It was so familiar, like a memory half-forgotten but deeply etched in his soul. Eris Vanserra felt a pang in his chest, a sensation he'd experienced once before—with Mor. Tragic? No. The scene before him was something else entirely. To anyone else, the sight might seem like the neighboring court had discarded their refuse here—chewed-up fae, wayward souls, the disowned and unwanted. Nasty, how they wandered into his territory. The morning could have been better. He should be at court, handling matters far more important than investigating reports of a stranger near the border. But the pull was irresistible. Curiosity gnawed at him, and as his smokehounds circled around the figure in the clearing, Eris felt an unexplainable urgency.

You stood there like a startled deer, surrounded by his soldiers and hounds. Eris observed you silently, knowing he could reach out and touch you—but he didn’t. You looked like you belonged to the Spring Court, which piqued his interest. But as he took a step closer, something even more intriguing happened. The leaves around you seemed to fall in slow motion, spiraling down in a graceful dance. Eris’s senses sharpened—your scent, a mix of spices and fire, filled the air, setting flames alight in his body. He would burn you whole if given the chance, and you would only stoke the fire higher.

With a snap, he realized the truth: the bond was undeniable. Ironic, how fate worked—how utterly unexpected. Had someone just thrown you into his arms? His mate. The Lady of Autumn, and you didn’t even know. But you felt it, didn’t you? You had to. You weren’t foolish.

Eris glanced at his companions, then back at you, a decision forming in his mind. He turned sharply, giving a command that left no room for doubt.

“Take her to the manor. She’s not leaving.” You had stepped into the Autumn Court, and now you were trapped. You would remain here...you would be the Lady of Autumn. He turned away, a finality in his stride. “Welcome home,” he added quietly, a hint of something dangerous in his tone.