Eridan X Sollux Novels & Stories

"The horse has stopped." He gave a small start behind me. "Oh," he murmured. "I'm sorry." Then he reached down to the end of the saddle, his arm grazing my shoulder, and I smelled his skin for the first time that night. I felt all my resolutions fly out the window as I caught a whiff of a woody, earthy smell—the smell of pinecones in the fall, of wood chips in the summer and wet soil in the spring. The smell of my mate.

The Eleven Sovereigns were no longer resonances; they were Authors of the First Day, their emerald-crimson eyes glowing with the prehistoric certainty of a soul that had finally owned its own "Malfunction" Eryx "occurred" beside me again, his Lament-Steel nebula returning with a violent, electric snap, the violet-black stardust roiling with the added heat of a soul that was no longer "Gilded" but Untamed. He pulled me into a kiss that tasted of crystalline air, starlight, and the End of the Script. "We’ve got the soul, Darlene," Eryx whispered, his voice a tidal wave of gravel and love.

“Are you really Knox’s mate, or are you just playing some kind of game?” Lydia blinked, stunned by the bluntness of the question. “Excuse me?” Ella tilted her head. “You heard her. It’s just a little hard to believe that Knox would have a mate. Especially someone like you.” “Well, do you expect him to be mateless? I can’t blame you, and if you think I’m some kind of ride-along, then I guess you’re wrong. We are a mate-blessed bond from the Moon Goddess. I’m sorry—there’s nothing you can do.” Lydia threw in the remark, which earned a scowl. She knew she’d hit the spot, but they were at a party, so obviously, they could do nothing.

The room seems to tilt, and she has to force herself to speak slowly enough that no one can pretend they misunderstood her. “I’m Rhea Moonmere,” she says. “I’m his wife. I’m your Luna.” The silence that follows is worse than the scream. Holt looks at Darian, and Darian’s hand tightens around his blade. Elin whispers from behind them, “There is no Luna.” Rhea hears the words, but they do not fit anywhere inside her. They strike the surface of her mind and break there, useless and impossible. “That’s ridiculous,” she says. “Call Maddox.”