Chapter Text
Three days after Azriel’s visit to her garden, Elain found a sealed envelope tucked inside her mailbox. Before she’d even broken the wax seal, she had identified the sender by the sharp, compact handwriting that crossed the front of the envelope.
Dearest Elain,
I’m writing to ask if I could spend another morning with you. If you’re not opposed to it, please let me know which day I could see you.
Azriel
And that was how it began.
Elain carried the letter up to her room and drafted her reply at her small writing desk. As she wrote, her eyes repeatedly snagged upon one of the tiny apothecary jars lined up against the back of the desk—the jar she’d filled with the tiny shells Azriel had given her just a few days ago.
Elain had always saved as much as she could of the treasures he brought her from foreign courts and kingdoms. From every bundle of wildflowers he’d given to her, she’d pressed a handful of flowers and leaves inside her books.
She might have dried the bouquets and displayed them in glass bottles on her windowsill, but she had been living with her sister at the time. If Feyre had seen them, she may have thought to question Elain on why she possessed collections of dried flowers that matched up with the journeys of the Night Court’s spymaster.
When everything changed between her and Azriel after this past Solstice, she had not bothered to dispose of them, not wanting to open the books and relive those once-beloved memories upon seeing them, so every bit of foliage and each flower was exactly where she’d left it, perfectly preserved between the pages.
For weeks, Elain had been tempted to simply toss out the books and the pressed flowers within them, but years of poverty made her reluctant to throw out anything of value, even a handful of aged books filled with flowers that reminded her of the male who’d given them to her.
That love still remained, as vibrant as the colors that hadn’t faded from the pressed flowers, but it had become desiccated and frail like them, too. From the distance and pain, that connection had withered, but unlike the flowers ever would, she’d felt it reawaken when they’d shared intimate truths in the library, when they’d walked together in the garden.
Elain fiddled with the pen in her hand. She didn’t want to encourage Azriel to visit the following day… or the day after that, either. Three days felt better—seemed much safer—so she decided upon that.
Azriel,
In three days time, meet me on the rooftop for tea at dawn.
Elain
As Elain had invited him to her home, she’d thought it was obvious she would be the one to supply tea and desserts, but when she carried a tray with tea and cookies up to the rooftop patio three mornings later, she found Azriel already standing there, holding a tray of his own that was covered with a profusion of pastries and everything needed to serve tea for two.
There were cinnamon rolls, danishes, cookies, and tarts, and they were tucked between teacups and fitted carefully into every bit of available space that remained on the tray surrounding the teaware. Everything smelled heavenly.
“Oh,” Elain said, blushing as she looked over the assortment of sweets. It was certainly much more than they could possibly finish. Before Elain could tell him that she hadn’t expected him to bring anything, or that it was too much, she met his eyes and saw that he didn’t seem embarrassed or bashful, even after noticing that she had prepared a tea tray as well. He wasn’t timid, yet he wasn’t proud—his eyes held their typical intensity along with the earnest hope that she might accept his extravagant offering—or perhaps that she might accept him… so she smiled and said, “Thank you.”
“Thank you as well,” he said with a warm smile. “I always enjoy the desserts you bake… but I’m sorry you felt you had to trouble yourself with making them.” His voice was soft. “I should’ve told you I’d planned on bringing the tea and desserts, but I knew if I did, you would’ve told me not to. And I wanted to have some way to show you how thankful I am for this chance to see you.”
He was being sincere. Azriel did not engage in flattery—had never once spoken in exaggeration with the intent to charm her. Her heartbeat quickened.
She led him over to the wrought iron table in the middle of the patio and they both set their trays on the circular tabletop. From the second they sat down together, Elain felt that same familiar pull toward him—nothing like the nagging tug from the bond with Lucien—just the simple draw of some intrinsic part of him. She promised herself she would make it through the morning without allowing herself to be swayed by him or blinded by this lovely feeling that bloomed within her chest.
As they spoke, Elain didn’t miss the way his breath caught, ever so slightly, each time she looked at him. And she’d needed to glance away more than once to subdue the need that flared within her when she was met with the heat and longing that simmered in his eyes.
On most mornings spent here, high above the city streets, Elain would find herself distracted by the many potted plants that were arranged about the patio. She would observe them carefully to determine which ones needed pruning and which blooms had opened since the day prior. She would typically find herself gazing off into the swirling blues and pinks and golds of the sunrise.
But not today. Today, she could hardly bear to turn her attention from the gorgeous male that sat before her, with his beautiful hazel eyes staring into hers as if he saw something captivating there—something he treasured deeply.
If only to distract herself from the temptation of his scent, she told Azriel of her trip to the Winter Court and the work she’d been doing with Amren since then. Although Amren had decided it wasn’t necessary for Elain to continue working with Azriel, he confessed that he hadn’t stopped searching for the means to decipher her unusual visions.
He reached into his shadows and withdrew a handful of beautiful crystals, some clear and some colorful, many smoothed into rounded stones and others raw with flat faces.
“I was sent to the Day Court this week and I used my spare time to search through the libraries,” he told her, setting the stones carefully on top of her tea tray. “I found records of certain stones being used for divination. I wasn’t able to find out exactly how the magic worked, but it couldn’t hurt to try holding these, one at a time, while you summon your power. To see if they make any difference.”
“I’ll try it,” she said, imagining how much time he must’ve spent scouring the library and how long it would’ve taken to track down these stones. “Thank you, Azriel.”
He dipped his hand into the shadows again and produced the obsidian mirror he’d brought when they’d met at the river house library. Adding that to her tea tray as well, he insisted it was hers to keep.
As they watched the sun ascending from behind a thick band of lavender clouds, Azriel had explained how she could use his shadow to send a letter to him directly, and Elain had been intrigued to learn more about the little shadow that trailed her. According to Azriel, the shadows could understand the language of the Fae, but could not speak it. To communicate with the shadows, he only needed to direct his thoughts toward them, but if Elain wished for the shadow to carry a letter to Azriel, she could speak the directions aloud and it would understand and obey.
Between their conversation and moments of comfortable silence spent watching the breathtaking masterpiece created by the sun and clouds above the horizon, they shared tea and desserts. Azriel ate Elain’s cookies exclusively and Elain finished as many pastries as she could manage. They both had one small cup of each type of tea before they decided to mix the two together, and when Elain laughed, Azriel had smiled—truly smiled.
When the time came for Azriel to depart for work, he looked to Elain and asked, “For our next visit, should I wait for your invitation or would you prefer for me to make the offer again?”
Elain took a moment to think. “After… what happened,” she started hesitantly. “I’d prefer not to feel as though I’m chasing after you. I’ve been put into that position more than once and I’d prefer to avoid it if I have a choice.” The last thing she wanted was to feel as if it was her responsibility to request his time and affection after feeling hurt by him, especially after painful and repeated rejections from both Graysen and Nesta had left Elain with an open wound when it came to reaching out to others. Her circumstances and spirit were in a better place now than they were back then, but she still didn’t want to reawaken those feelings of helplessness and heartache.
Azriel nodded somberly, letting her know that he understood completely. “How often would you like me to offer?” he asked.
“Offer whenever you’d like to see me again,” she told him before she could think any better of it.
His body tensed. “I don’t think that’s wise,” he said, unable to meet her eyes. But she could already guess at everything he wasn’t saying—he wished to see her much more often than it was acceptable to admit.
Elain swallowed. “Not more than once a week then.”
Exactly one week later, the next letter had come, this time deposited directly into her lap by one of his shadows.
Dearest Elain,
Would you like to plan for a morning together this week? I would be grateful to have your company.
Azriel
She didn’t wait long before writing out her reply.
Dear Azriel,
I’m about to go outside to work in the garden if you’d like to help. If not, would you like to visit for tea again tomorrow? As much as I appreciated the extra tea and desserts, you can let me take care of it this time.
Elain
She politely asked her little shadow to carry it straight to Azriel, and it whisked the letter away. Before she had even returned her pen to the desk drawer, movement caught her eye and Elain looked out her bedroom’s tall, open window to see Azriel standing beside the fountain in the middle of the back garden.
Once she made her way outside to meet him, they both quickly busied themselves with the work that needed done for the day. Azriel pulled out the weeds that were sprouting through the mulch and Elain began with the pruning, a task she only entrusted to herself. When a light summer rain shower began, Elain invited him inside for tea and they talked until Rhys spoke into Azriel’s mind and told him it was time for their meeting to begin.
With a sharp glint in his eye, he’d said, “If Rhys or Feyre ask why I was with you today, I'd be thankful if you’d tell them the shadow called me here when you hurt your hand in the garden—much like what happened a few weeks ago.”
He’d told her goodbye and vanished into shadows before she could ask him for the reason, though she suspected that he, too, was reluctant to tell anyone about their weekly meetings. Elain surely wasn’t keen on speaking to her family about Azriel, or having to explain what was going on between them when she wasn’t entirely sure herself.
Four days later, Elain was restless. Between the situation with Azriel and the mysterious visions that still refused to respond to her many attempts to unveil them, Elain’s mind was even more tangled up than usual. She’d set off on a walk beyond the edges of the city to the familiar woodland trails she followed when she wished to seek refuge in the clear waters of a particular small, secluded lake. She’d discovered it weeks ago, far from the main path and bordered by large rocks and tall trees.
There was no need to rush, so Elain took her time, smiling at the way the sunlight turned the edges of deep green leaves to gold, and stopping to observe the dainty wildflowers and marvelous blue and purple mushrooms that dotted the forest floor.
When the towering evergreens opened up to sunlight and the sparkling waters greeted her, Elain’s weary heart swelled with joy. After shedding her clothes and laying them out on a rock the size of a small table, she slowly descended into the cool water of the placid lake. Tiny black fish with billowing fins darted around her feet in the shallows, and the bright, gentle song of turquoise-feathered birds welcomed her back warmly.
Once she descended deeply enough for the water to lap at her waist, Elain dove beneath the surface and began swimming and floating, going nowhere, suspended between the surface and the rocky lake bottom, only surfacing to hear the melody of birdsong when her lungs grew hungry for another breath of air.
With all that loomed over her, she felt as free as she possibly could. Feeling nearly weightless, Elain luxuriated in the peace that surrounded her, taking it deep into her heart as she drifted in this tranquil paradise. When she swam, she glided through the abyss with long, lazy strokes, and every time she pushed the water behind her, it felt a little like putting a tiny bit of her troubles behind her, too.
If only everything could be this simple, she thought to herself. The azure sky was above her and the rock-covered floor of the lake was below. The movement of her arms and legs propelled her through the water, and when she blew the air out of her lungs she sunk deeper and deeper. Everything was perfectly predictable and the only decision to be made was whether to float or sink or swim.
Elain wasn’t sure how much time passed until her body began to tire and she dragged herself out of the calming waters.
As she emerged from the lake, trailing water behind her, she squeezed some of the moisture from her hair. Her braid had unraveled while she swam, and her hair had twisted into a tangled mess. Combing her slender fingers through it only made it worse.
Elain smiled, thinking of what her mother would say if she could see her obedient middle daughter with her precious hair disheveled from swimming naked in the woods. Her mother had always been immensely preoccupied with Elain’s appearance, but she’d been especially particular when it came to her thick, wavy hair.
She laid down on a large, flat boulder while the sun shone down upon her, and she delighted in the warmth that the stone radiated into her skin. Overhead, crows flew by with shadows streaming from their glossy black wings. Elain closed her eyes and listened to the lovely song of the forest—the calling birds, the chirping of insects, and the gentle lapping of water against the pebbles that lined the shore.
As soon as her skin had dried and warmed, she dressed and began the long walk home.
Shortly after she’d reached the edge of the city, Elain crossed a street, and mist began to swirl before her eyes.
Not here, please not here… she pleaded silently, but there was nothing that could be done to stop it.
She hurried over to a wooden bench just outside a storefront and plunked herself down before the vision totally obscured the cityscape and the people around her. Elain had long been accustomed to her visions, but she feared she’d never grow used to this . Facing them in the middle of a street filled with unfamiliar faeries was entirely different from receiving them in the safety of her home or accompanied by those she knew and trusted.
Velaris was safe, and she knew no harm would befall her here, but she couldn’t help the feeling of vulnerability that came with sitting alone in the city while unaware of her surroundings. She didn’t welcome the fascinated gawking of strangers, or the well-meaning passersby who would attempt to check on her. It wasn’t easy to explain what was happening and reassure them that she was okay, all while maintaining focus on her vision.
From the gray fog that gathered across her field of sight, she saw enormous reptilian beasts, corded with muscle and covered in black scales. They growled and leapt, their powerful bodies surging across a barren land.
“Elain, I’m here.” Azriel’s voice… Azriel was with her. She could sense his presence, could feel the cool shade from his wings. It was his scent that met her when she breathed in, and relief settled over her. She was not alone and he would be there to watch over her and keep curious bystanders away until the vision passed.
As one of the beasts was forced back from a blast of power, Elain gasped, for it was Rhys who was facing off against this awful creature. It was Rhys who was battered and exhausted from expending his strength in battle. There was no one who came to his aid, no one who could help drive the creature back as it prepared to strike once more. The scene of violence came to an abrupt halt as the mists cleared from her eyes and the bright city came back into focus around her.
Rhys… her sister’s mate… her brother-in-law who had always shown her such kindness… His life was in danger.
Then came the heartwrenching realization that if these beasts took his life, her own sister would perish along with him, thanks to the tragic bargain they’d made to bind their lives together. Elain could hardly breathe. There had to be a way to stop it… to keep Rhys and her sister from harm. Maybe she had received this vision because the knowledge of what lay ahead could allow her to change the course of the future in some way, just as she had with Cassian.
“Are you okay?” came Azriel’s soft voice.
“Yes, I just…” Elain squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her shaking fists. Rarely did a vision leave her this distraught. Once the images had faded, she would quickly jot down a brief description in her notebook and go on with her day, but Rhys…
“You want me to take you home?” Azriel asked, hazel eyes churning with concern.
She nodded graciously. She wasn’t sure how her frozen legs would carry her there now.
“Mommy, look!” came the voice of a small child. Elain turned toward the sound to find a little girl with lavender skin and dark blue hair who couldn’t have been much older than six years old. She tugged on her mother’s hand as she pointed to where Elain and Azriel sat together on the bench. “It’s her! Can I please?”
Just as surprised as Elain, the young girl’s mother looked at Elain with wide, apologetic eyes.
“It’s not a good time,” Azriel told them, his voice gentle yet firm in a way that left no room for debate.
“It’s okay,” Elain said, trying to collect herself. “Are you looking for something that’s missing?”
“Yes!” The child’s ice blue eyes lit up. “My best friend told me you found her missing cat, and her cousin said you found her mama’s ring, and well, I was wondering if you could tell me where my lucky rock went. It’s black with white stripes on it.”
Elain pulled out the small notebook she used to record her visions, and took out the small, folded map of Velaris that she always kept behind the back cover for situations such as this.
She closed her eyes and moved her fingertip over the paper. “It’s right here,” Elain said, pointing to a house on the northern side of the city. “Beneath the sofa in the sitting room.”
“That’s where Grandma lives!” she said ecstatically. “Let’s go, Mommy!”
The girl’s mother shouted her thanks from over her shoulder as her daughter pulled her along toward a side street. Elain smiled as she watched the pair run off together and Azriel looked at her with a softness in his eyes as he held out his hand. When she took it, he winnowed them straight to the middle of her sitting room.
He began to lead her to the sofa when Elain noticed the slightest falter in his step. She stopped where she stood and looked up at him with worry. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
Elain gave his hand a slight tug and guided him slowly to the nearest armchair. Surprisingly, he allowed it. “Do you need ointment? A pain remedy?”
“Madja already took care of it.” He looked at her and his gaze held a gentle warmth. “But thank you.”
“A meal, then? Tea? Surely you shouldn’t be standing over a stove preparing food or running into town for it.”
“I’m truly okay,” he assured her. “Madja made sure I had something before she left. I’m not hungry. Or thirsty.”
She looked at him closely, concern flickering in her eyes. “What happened, Azriel?”
His gaze shifted to the floor. “I underestimated my target,” he said emotionlessly. “It won’t happen again.” She could tell that he preferred to leave it at that, so Elain didn’t ask for any further details. But she couldn’t help but wonder whether his lack of sleep was partly to blame.
Elain excused herself for a moment, and when she returned with a hairbrush, a comb, and a large, puffy pillow, Azriel gave her a questioning look.
“For my hair, and for your leg,” she said simply.
Elain didn’t give him time to protest before she set the pillow on the low, wooden table before him and took her seat so she could begin picking apart the tangles in her long, golden-brown hair.
“What were you doing in the city with an injured leg?” she asked gently. “How did you find me?”
“I saw you when you were walking by my apartment,” he said, although it wasn’t much of an explanation. And somehow, Elain had a feeling it wasn’t the whole truth, either.
Azriel finally propped his leg up on the pillow and she drew no attention to it. “Do you want to talk about the vision?” he asked.
“No,” she said, not wanting to relive that terror for another second. Not yet. And she knew no further explanation was needed. Not with him.
It was an understanding they’d always had from the very beginning. Curious as they’d been about one another, they both considered sharing their innermost thoughts to be deeply personal and a true act of trust. So they’d made sure that divulging anything to one another was always a choice that was given unconditionally, without demands or expectations. “But thank you for staying with me while it lasted. It’s not easy when it happens in town like that.”
“I’m glad I could be there for you,” he said sincerely. “You could send the shadow to me if it happens again. So long as I’m in the city, I could get to you in seconds.”
Elain looked into his eyes and saw nothing but pure devotion. She’d always admired his generous, valiant heart. He was the first to give of himself, to protect those who needed it, to shoulder the burden for others. But she knew it had to take a toll on him.
“Is there anyone who can watch out for you, Azriel? To step in before something like this happens to you?” She glanced over at his injured leg.
“It couldn’t have been prevented. Not by anyone other than myself,” he said immovably. “I don’t need someone to get in my way while trying to stop the inevitable. But an offer for a warm meal, or a pillow for my leg—that sort of thoughtfulness makes more of a difference to me than you probably realize.”
Elain hadn’t been expecting this sort of candidness from him, yet she was grateful for it. She understood how very difficult it was for him to admit to something like this.
“I’ll be sure to send for you,” she said, “if the townspeople become especially irksome during my next vision in the middle of the city.” He returned her quick, lighthearted grin before her face grew serious again. “Would you let me know if you ever needed a hot meal? Or a pillow for your leg?”
Azriel blinked—a sure sign her words had caught him by surprise. He remained quiet as he contemplated his answer, and Elain could imagine the questions he might’ve been asking himself in the silence. She tried to put her hope aside as she wondered how he might answer. Would he be able to smother his pride enough to ask for help? Could he handle the guilt he would likely feel by sitting back and allowing her to care for him? Elain continued tending to her hair, though she realized she’d been merely combing through the same strands over a dozen times.
Softly, he replied, “Would you want me to tell you if I needed those things?”
“I would, Azriel.” She glanced over at him, looking deeply into his eyes. “You know I would.” It was all she’d ever wanted. For him to be honest about how he felt, what he wanted from her.
“I would never demand your help…” he said cautiously.
“But would you accept it if I offered it? Would you tell me if you were hurt?”
After a beat of silence, he told her, “I would.”
Elain nodded. “I would want to know,” she said wholeheartedly. “So I could be there.”
She felt the weight of his gaze, even as her downcast eyes focused on a tightly knotted section of her hair, slowly picking it apart with the edge of her comb.
“Would you like help with that?” Azriel asked. “I could begin on the other side.”
“Oh…” she said lightly. “Sure, I guess.”
At her hesitancy, his face grew serious. “Are you sure it’s alright?”
With as much hair as she had to comb through, they could finish the job in half the time, but Elain knew that agreeing would be prodding some invisible boundary between them.
She had been waiting to see whether his interest would wane, if the tides of whatever battle that existed in his mind would shift and he would distance himself again. But he wasn’t running away. He wasn’t closing himself off to her. So she wouldn’t hide herself away from him, either.
“Yes, I’m fine with it as long as you are,” she told him carefully.
He extracted his own comb from within his shadows, and then he traveled through the shadows himself, appearing beside her on the sofa a second later. He’d likely wished to avoid hobbling from one couch to the other, showcasing his weakness. Elain slid his pillow across the low table so he could rest his leg upon it once more, and she angled her body so that Azriel could reach her hair.
She was keenly aware of his scent, as he sat behind her and carefully separated one small section of her hair before untangling the ends with painstaking gentleness. He worked his way up through her waves until he could run the comb through her damp hair in one smooth stroke. Elain quickly realized that this was the most difficult part, because the way he dragged the teeth of the comb over her scalp was enough to drive her mad, and each time he did it she had to swallow the moan that gathered in her throat.
Azriel hardly seemed much more composed. She knew him well enough to notice that his breathing seemed too tense and even to be natural, as if he was putting significant effort into controlling it.
“How was your stay up north?” he asked.
“It didn’t go well,” she said dismally. “The male was unbearable.”
Azriel’s hand went still, the comb pausing along its course halfway down her hair. “Did he do something to upset you?” Quiet fury rippled from him.
“No,” she told him. “Nothing like that. He claimed to be a prophet, but really, I think he was just a self-absorbed male who’d lost touch with reality and was preoccupied with the idea of being chosen by the gods. It was a waste of time.”
“I’m sorry to hear that the trip was not worthwhile for you.” There was an edge to his voice, as if he was still rattled over the idea of a male upsetting her, and was actively working to settle himself from whatever scenario he’d envisioned in his mind.
Elain cursed herself because she liked it. Against what she knew was proper and reasonable, a more primal part of her liked knowing that he wouldn’t hesitate to defend and protect her, fully aware he would resort to violence if the situation called for it. She was thankful to be facing away from him so he wouldn’t be able to see the flush spreading over her skin. She kept him talking, if only so they could both focus on the conversation rather than the building tension between them.
Elain had been the first to work through her half of her own thick, unruly hair and she knew Azriel was nearly finished with his half when he swapped the fine-toothed comb for her hair brush and began slowly dragging it from the crown of her head to the ends of her hair.
He was enjoying it, she realized, taking his time with every stroke as if he didn’t want this to end. Elain’s eyes drifted shut at the delicious way the bristles glided over her scalp. She’d fought against it this entire time, but when the softest sigh of pleasure finally escaped her mouth, there wasn’t a thing she could do to take it back.
Azriel’s hand stilled for a second time, the brush hovering just above the nape of her neck. The change in his scent was so strong and sudden, it flooded her senses completely. Nothing could stop her own body from reacting to the dark, alluring scent as she breathed it in as if she’d been starved of it. Azriel’s controlled breaths had instantly turned shallow, and she could tell he’d been struggling to hold himself back this entire time.
Elain clamped her legs together and prayed there was some way to salvage this—prayed she had the strength to stop herself from offering herself to him here, right in the middle of the couch.
Unsteadily, Azriel finished sliding the brush down to the tips of her hair. She heard a click as he set it on the low table before the sofa.
No matter how she tried, Elain couldn’t settle the need within her. She wanted him beyond reason, wanted him to kiss her until she’d memorized the feel of his lips.
Her self-control faltered further until Elain couldn’t think of anything else but the bliss she would feel as Azriel slid his cock into her and began thrusting slow and deep while she caressed his beautiful golden-brown skin. Gods, she needed to feel him moving inside her, needed to watch him lose himself to his own pleasure as she held him close and rocked her hips against his. But she couldn’t . She couldn’t let herself do this…
She didn’t dare turn to face him. “Thank you for your help,” she told him shakily.
“Elain…” Azriel began, his voice rough and restrained. “I’m not leaving you again. I’m not abandoning you. I’ll write about seeing you in a week… But I think I should go.”
“Yes,” Elain said, nodding her head quickly. “I’ll… I’ll see you next week.”
Elain spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon facing the truth that they couldn’t continue with this arrangement for much longer. She would need to make her decision and she would need to do it very soon.
By mid-afternoon, she’d finally worked up the nerve to go to the river house to speak with Rhys and Feyre. While alarmed to hear of her vision, they had not panicked and seemed confident in their plan, which entailed closely monitoring any beasts that resembled those from the vision, and increasing security measures for any similar creatures housed within the Prison. To be cautious, Rhys would remain far from The Middle and would be accompanied by armed guards when leaving the city.
It was possible that these precautions alone would be enough to prevent the terrifying scene from transpiring in reality, but Elain still couldn’t bring herself to relax. A creeping feeling of unease seemed to follow her around regardless of how she attempted to reassure herself.
Once she returned to the comfort of her home, Elain tried to find some peace by walking through the garden and clipping some fresh roses to bring inside, and when that wasn’t enough to calm her, she worked through some of her frustration by making a loaf of bread. She now relaxed in the sitting room, reading a book about hillside landscaping while the bread cooled in the kitchen.
The vase of roses sat next to her, their lovely perfume serving to drown out any trace of Azriel that might have remained. Elain needed to at least try and think of something that wasn’t the scent of his desire or her imaginings of what might have happened between them had Azriel been any less of a gentleman.
She set her book aside to scribble down some notes on creeping ground covers when the room around her was eclipsed by a bright flare of starlight.
And then, after weeks upon weeks of exasperation, Elain finally saw the female from her visions with perfect clarity. She was golden-skinned and red-haired, and she was falling and falling through an endless, black night as stars and planets flew past her. The image faded into another, and she saw the female cease her screaming as she landed upon a carpet of green grass directly behind Rhys and Feyre’s mansion—a glimpse into the very near future. And then the vision went hazy and dissolved into nothing.
Nyx…
Her precious nephew… she had to make sure he would be safe. Someone had to intercept the stranger before she had the chance to usher chaos into their world.
“Little Shadow?” Elain called. She scanned the room until she spotted him, slithering out from beneath a bookcase and darting across the room to slide along the hem of her dress. “Please go to Azriel and tell him that the female from the starlight visions has left her world and is coming here now. She will arrive at the back lawn of the river house in a matter of minutes. Tell Azriel he must go straight to Rhys and let him know. Tell him to get Nyx to safety.”
The shadow vanished instantly, but either Azriel was terrible at following directions or his shadow wasn’t any good at delivering them, because no more than five seconds later, Azriel was beating at her front door instead of tracking down Rhys at the river house as she’d instructed.
Elain dashed into the antechamber and threw open the door.
“Azriel, you have to find Rhys now!” she urged him. “You don’t have much time!”
With his eyes resolute and his jaw firmly set, he only stated, “I want you out of here.”
“Why?”
“This female has been contacting you alone. I don’t trust her.” At once, Elain knew his fear was rational. “We take no chances with this,” he added, outstretching one hand to her.
She grasped it tightly, and once they’d speared straight through the empty void, they reappeared in the middle of the House of Wind’s sitting room.
“You’ll be safe here,” he said confidently.
“I know,” Elain agreed, nodding quickly as she looked into his eyes. The House of Wind was a small fortress in and of itself. To reach it, one without wings would need to climb ten thousand steps and break through wards strong enough to thwart even the most powerful High Lords in Prythian.
“I’ll go find Rhys,” he said. “We’ll send someone to protect you.”
Before she could object, Azriel had already vanished.
Elain took a seat in an armchair and tried to avoid imagining what might be happening at this very moment at the river house. She worried over what untold powers this female might have, considering she could manipulate Elain’s visions from worlds away and had the ability to send herself crashing into other planets like a meteorite.
The stranger had chosen this planet for some reason, and the possibilities were vast and unsettling. At least Elain could be grateful she’d received the warning in time to alert Rhys and Azriel.
Alone with her thoughts, Elain speculated over possible reasons the female had been contacting her for so long leading up to this day. She supposed that her visions had been unclear all along because of the distance and barriers between worlds, and not due to some inadequacy of her power. The realization brought her some relief.
Elain startled as Mor materialized in the center of the room, holding a winged baby in her arms. All was forgotten.
“Hi sweet boy!” she greeted her nephew. “Aunt Elain is so happy to see you!” She gave him a big smile and Nyx mirrored it with his own delighted, toothless grin. “Hi, Mor,” Elain said brightly. “Do you mind if I hold him?”
“He’s all yours,” said Mor, placing the small baby into her arms.
Elain spoke to him softly, and they both giggled when Azriel’s shadow tickled him by swirling in circles over Nyx’s stomach. If there was anything that could help take her mind off of the havoc that was unfolding in their peaceful city, it was her adorable nephew.
“Are Nesta and Cassian here?” Elain asked.
“No. They’re actually on their way to your house. Azriel was sent to intercept the female at the river house and your sister and Cassian will wait with Rhys, Feyre, and Amren at your house to question her.”
Elain blinked. “They’re going to question her at my house?”
“Try not to worry,” Mor said nonchalantly. “They’ll only stay there if she’s calm and friendly.”
“So you’ve been given the task of standing guard over me and Nyx while all the others get to meet the newcomer.”
Mor nearly snorted. “ Given the task?” She repeated. “More like I’ve been assigned to your protection under the threat of violence if I let anything happen to you.”
Elain blushed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. If anyone deserves an apology, it’s you—for having to deal with two males overreacting and treating you like glass.” Rhys and Azriel, surely.
Elain bounced Nyx gently in her arms. “Actually, I don’t think it’s the worst thing.” Self-consciously, she added, “At least they care enough to make sure I’m okay.”
Mor was silent for a moment. “You appreciate Azriel in a way most others don’t.” Elain didn’t like the way they’d gone from discussing both males to speaking of Azriel alone. But it was true. The parts of him that weren’t easily accepted by others were pieces of the male she loved. From the moment they’d met, he’d made sense to her. The mask he wore had never blinded her to the beauty of his heart. Elain didn’t know if Mor had used her power to come to her conclusion, or if she’d simply relied on her own observations.
Still, Elain felt the need to deflect, to try and keep the conversation from getting too personal. “I can’t fault him for wanting to protect his family and friends.” Friends. The word felt wrong in her mouth.
Once Elain was no longer human, Graysen hadn’t cared one bit about what happened to her, and long before that, her father hadn’t seemed to remember that he was responsible for three starving children. It was true that Elain had forgiven her father, and that she had always sympathized with the unseen battles he fought within his own mind during the years they lived in the cottage, but it was still hard to feel as if she’d drifted through her life so often forgotten. An afterthought.
Azriel had been the first to see through the false face she hid behind. He had taken an interest in who she truly was and noticed her even when she thought she’d done her best to remain invisible. When he spent time with her, he always made her a priority and made certain she knew how much he valued her.
That was why it hurt so deeply when he pulled away from her without an explanation. He was certainly working to make it all up to her now… but it was up to her to decide whether it was enough.
Mor didn’t seem inclined to drop the subject just yet. “He really cares about you,” she said, her brown eyes genuine and warm as they met hers. Again, Elain was unsure if this was her power or ordinary perception.
Her heart still swelled with emotion. “I know.”