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Chapter Text

Elain

The vision began with a beacon of starlight brilliant enough to illuminate galaxies and transverse worlds. 

Elain held her breath, just as she did each time the blinding light flashed from behind her eyes. Beneath her clammy skin, her entire body was rioting as she veered wildly between determination and doubt. 

It had found her once again, and this time she needed to figure out what it meant.

Just a few seconds away now…

This was another chance.    

Elain began to hear the familiar, muted tones—a voice. It was always the same voice—female, and strong—but muffled as if the speaker was far away, down a long hallway and locked behind a heavy door.

Harsh, sharp-edged words… and a second voice—a male voice Elain did not recognize. Beyond the undecipherable conversation she heard, she perceived nothing but misty colors blurred into complete obscurity. 

Elain tried to visualize the male and female as if they truly were locked away behind a distant door. She pictured herself running down the hallway, her slippered feet stamping across a long, narrow rug and stopping at the very end, pushing through that door…

Nothing. 

Elain shoved down the sharp stab of discouragement. She took a deep breath, centered herself, blinked away her frustration, and tried again. 

This time, she thrust all of her energy into reaching out toward the vision and pulling it toward her. She grasped and tugged and commanded it to come into focus. 

Instead, the vision blinked out of existence.

Gone. As if it had never been at all. 

Elain swallowed a cry of frustration as the murky haze melted away and her bedroom at the town house came back into focus around her. A book lay open on her lap. The fine text and illustrations of spring bulbs were illuminated by the setting sun’s golden light as it poured in through a tall, open window. 

Besides the soft ticking of the clock, it was silent. Entirely silent. Because the town house now belonged to Elain and she lived here alone. It had been a relief when Feyre had offered it to her two months prior. 

It was far easier for her when she didn’t have to mask her moods with cheery smiles, when she didn’t have to come up with excuses to be alone or force life into her face after her visions kept her up all night. No one was there to check on her or to ask questions she would rather not answer.  

Of course, she treasured the visits with her two best friends and her family, but Elain also valued her privacy. Especially at times like this, when she would slip into a trance and didn’t have to return to a room of faces staring at her, awaiting details of her most recent vision. She no longer had to disguise her sorrow after each failed attempt at navigating her powers.

This time, Elain had been ready. She’d met this vision armed with a strategy she’d practiced so diligently with Amren, but it only led to the exact same infuriating end as each of her past efforts. 

Elain dropped her forehead into her hands and blew out a sigh of defeat. 

Maybe if she’d been more confident in herself, more determined… But she hadn’t been, and now it was too late. 

Not focused enough. Not powerful enough. 

She only wanted to be enough. 

The following morning, Elain sat on the familiar timeworn divan in Amren’s apartment, with slanted beams of sunlight streaming in through two enormous windows at opposite ends of the loft. Elain recounted the details of her vision, and admitted to her failure. 

Amren listened without speaking, her silver eyes sharp and attentive. “And the other vision?” she asked when Elain had finished. 

Elain pulled a notebook from a hidden pocket sewn into the interior of her cloak. She carried the small book with her wherever she went, so that she might scribble down notes on her visions while they were still clear in her mind. 

Her nimble fingers quickly flipped to the page with the top corner folded inward, and Elain recited the words that had been spoken into her mind two days prior. “When sword and dagger—mighty twins of ancient power—sing to each other once more, pluck the eighth string to herald the new dawn of dusk.”

“The Harp and the missing Dusk Court,” Amren stated without hesitation. 

“I figured as much,” said Elain, pensive as she sifted through her thoughts. Her brown eyes flicked to Amren. “But which sword and which dagger?”

“We must start by recovering Narben,” Amren said definitively. Elain knew the blade was rumored to possess a dark, incredible power, but it was lost long ago. “Narben and Truth Teller are the only ancient blades that remain in this world. But it would be wise to test Nesta’s weapons as well. They are new, but it’s possible the power inside them is much older.”

“I’ll search for Narben,” Elain offered, trying to hide the brightness from her voice. Scrying to pinpoint an item’s location was the one skill with which Elain had any measure of frequent success, and she couldn’t help but feel embarrassed of how eager she was to prove herself useful. 

Amren nodded and strode across the room toward an ornately carved wooden desk that stood against a wood-paneled wall. It was scratched and scuffed with wear, and made a jarring sound as Amren wrenched the top drawer open to begin rifling through the contents within.

Elain had first knocked on the door to Amren’s apartment many months ago, determined to finally learn to wield her gift of Sight. 

For so long, Elain had hidden from her visions, drowning them out in sunlight. At one time, this was what she’d needed, back when she was scarcely able to eat, or speak, or make it through each day without dissolving into tears and succumbing to her misery. During those bleak and harrowing days, she had been overwhelmed and too afraid to face them. So much had changed since then.

At first, Elain had merely hoped to master her powers enough to stifle the cries of the Firebird that resounded through her head every time she grew still, to vanquish the persistent scenes of horror that invaded her dreams each night. 

But there had been a change in her recently—a shift in her state of mind that she’d come upon as gradually as the spreading of jasmine vines.  

For the first time, Elain felt brave enough to do more with her powers than to merely withstand them. She wanted to put them to use. To make a difference in the world, in whatever way she could. 

At last, Amren pulled out a folded piece of  parchment and spread it out on the low table that sat before the divan. The map looked as if it could’ve been centuries old, with cities and landforms labeled in elegant script, the features of the land and sea colored in hues of sepia, teal, and veridian. 

“Well,” came Amren’s clipped voice, pulling Elain from daydreams of ships and sailors and the grand adventures of those who might’ve used this map long ago. “What are you waiting for, girl?”

Elain closed her eyes, and began to search. She released the eager energy of her sight—sent it  fanning out like tendrils of mist, sweeping over every square inch of the map, exploring every town and each wild, forgotten place in Prythian, plunging into the black depths of the seas and to unfamiliar lands beyond. 

“There,” Elain finally proclaimed, pressing the tip of her finger to the worn parchment. Her dark eyes met Amren’s.     

If Elain was correct, Narben was located a few kilometers off the eastern coast of the Winter Court, beneath the frigid sea water.

“A task for Feyre, then,” said Amren, as she marked the spot with ink. Elain’s sister had the ability to shapeshift, and could surely transform herself into a creature that could brave the cold depths to retrieve the legendary blade. 

Amren nodded toward the map. “Now do the same and locate the female from your starlight visions.” 

Starlight visions. It was the name others had given to those hazy, undecipherable visions that began with a flare of starlight. It seemed much too fanciful of a name for the sum of what had been testing Elain’s patience and dominating her mind to the point she could hardly sleep at night. There was seldom a moment, in the waking world or in the realm of dreams, that she wasn’t consumed by them.

Elain had seen veiled and mist-shrouded images before, but only in response to her own questioning and searching, never sent to her completely unsought, as these were. Never before had she received visions quite like this, and the most uncanny part of it all was the way they kept appearing more frequently as time passed.

It felt much like a stranger was sending cryptic letters to her house, and each week brought more than the last, as if the sender was growing increasingly desperate for her to understand and respond. There wasn’t a moment Elain didn’t feel the urgent demand to make sense of these peculiar messages. The pressure was unrelenting, and Elain had become plagued with an eerie sense of dread that seeped into even the most lovely moments of peace. 

Her visions often carried warnings of danger or clues that were vital to changing the path of the future. These clouded visions could be harboring such warnings as well, but Elain would never know unless she could provoke the messages to reveal themselves. 

Amren went on, “If you succeed in finding this female, we can travel to her location and see if proximity will make your visions clearer. At the very least, we could send our spies to learn who she is and what wards may be surrounding her—whether she is a danger to you or to any of us.”

Elain nodded obediently and sent her power forth once more—seeking, searching, focusing on the female from those visions, on her voice and fierce spirit.

When her first attempt didn’t yield any results, Elain tried again, attempting to quell her disappointment.

“Not a trace of her,” Elain said with a frown.

Amren pursed her lips. “I presumed she wouldn’t be found so easily, but we would’ve been fools to simply avoid trying.”

Elain’s gaze drifted over the creased and faded surface of the map, as if the answers she sought would spell themselves out before her in looping cursive script between lakes and valleys. 

She hadn’t sensed the faintest tug or glimmer. The entire map was devoid of even the slightest hint of her. Empty. As if the female was warded so thoroughly, no trace of her existed anywhere in the world.

Then it all slipped into place. 

“What if she isn’t showing up on the map because she isn’t anywhere on this map…” Elain began. “What if these visions are coming to me from beyond this world? From another realm or plane of existence? Another planet?”

“The orrery,” Amren breathed, her shrewd eyes glittering. “Rhys has a model of other worlds in his study.”

As neither Elain nor Amren could winnow or fly, they began to walk the pale cobblestone streets that led to Rhys and Feyre’s sprawling riverside mansion. 

Once inside, Elain led Amren into the familiar space of Rhys’s study. While she’d never taken the liberty of exploring the two-leveled atrium, she occasionally visited to inform Rhys of any visions that required his attention.

Fitted into an alcove and taking up the entire floor of a raised dais, was a magnificent model of planets, moons, and stars, cast in bronze and ticking as the planets and moons spun slowly in their orbits. 

Each time she caught a glimpse of it, the orrery captured Elain’s imagination, but seeing it up close was astounding. She imagined the hundreds of tiny gears inside, turning in perfect time, spurring on the dance of the celestial spheres—metal replicas of so many worlds full of their own magic and rich histories. 

With a curt but encouraging nod from Amren, Elain stepped up to the orrery, looking out across the entirety of it, as if she were a conductor before an orchestra. Once she let her eyes drift shut, her power surged outward as it raced past stars and circled planets, exploring and searching like a lively team of wolves freed from a cage. 

Between the light of stars and the empty blackness of space, flashes of landscapes and civilizations filled her mind, passing by so quickly she could hardly commit any of it to memory. 

Elain marveled at the scope of her sight and the foreign worlds that rushed past her eyes, anxiously waiting for her power to isolate one of these planets as the source of that mysterious voice. 

Suddenly conscious of the time that had passed, Elain’s shoulders drooped as discouragement crept in. Her heart sunk entirely as one final image appeared—a flicker of the dusty, barren surface of some distant moon that faded into a gray fog.

“I’m sorry,” Elain murmured as she closed her eyes in shame. A hopeless emptiness took up the space within her chest, and for the first time since this had begun, Elain wished to be done with all of it. She’d had enough of the struggle and the disappointment and the restless thoughts that swam through her head at all hours of the day.

It was up to her, of all people, to shoulder the weight of this responsibility. How her mother would’ve laughed to see her middle daughter, who’d never been anything more than a pretty face, given a miraculous power she was too incompetent to use. 

“What if our task is impossible?” she asked, her voice ghostly thin. 

“That is not out of the realm of possibility,” said Amren thoughtfully. “Either it is impossible and we will never succeed, or it is possible and we continue until one method proves to be effective.” Amren met Elain’s tired eyes before continuing. “The question is—are you willing to accept defeat and risk that some disaster lies ahead that could’ve been prevented had we continued?”

Elain’s hopes of abandoning the entire endeavor deflated in an instant. She couldn’t take that chance. If harm came to her family or friends because she was too weak to persist with this task, she would never forgive herself. She could imagine nothing worse. 

“So long as you have the endurance for it,” Amren continued. “We will exhaust all possible perspectives and avenues of information. In fact, I would like for you to begin consulting with others as well, starting with Azriel.”

That name sent a jolt spearing through Elain’s body, quick and searing. She tried to keep the quaver from her voice as she insisted, “Surely, my progress would be best guided by someone who has knowledge and wisdom that spans millennia, who has overseen this process from the beginning.”

Amren smirked. “Do not attempt to work your charm on me, girl. Your work with Azriel and others will take place in addition to our weekly meetings. Azriel has extensive experience with the dark realm that seems to interlace with your visions.”

“Nuala and Cerridwen have powers linked to mist and shadow,” Elain tried. “Perhaps I could begin by asking them for help.” 

Elain didn’t mention that the sisters had already shared their best suggestions with her, but Amren instantly retorted, “Their abilities are nothing like yours.”

“Maybe Rhys—”

Amren shook her head, sending the black hair of her short bob swaying. “I believe you should meet with Rhys eventually, if other avenues do not yield any results, but I insist we begin with Azriel, as we do not know if time is on our side. Daemati are infiltrative. They burrow into the mind and take what is there. Shadowsingers and seers receive and decipher information. Azriel learned to interpret the language of shadows thoroughly enough to receive and understand complex messages in the same way you must receive and find meaning behind the obscure visions that appear to you. And as he sends his shadows to search for information, you must command your sight to probe for the answers you seek.” Amren leveled a brusque look at her. “Is there a reason you are opposed to accepting Azriel’s assistance?”

“No,” Elain lied as she began to fiddle with a loose ringlet of her golden-brown hair. “Not at all.”

Her stomach tightened apprehensively. She would soon be face to face with the male who she’d been so carefully avoiding over the past months.

She would have refused and insisted upon traveling far and wide to beg for help from anyone else, but Elain had the sinking feeling that time was running out. She needed to unravel the message behind these visions before catastrophe could seize its chance to pounce on them. 

If facing Azriel could give her a chance at preventing unknown terrors—at keeping her family safe, then she would do it.

She was not angry with Azriel. 

After Solstice, she was confused and upset, stung by the pain of watching him disappear completely from her life, after she’d trusted him with her heart and finally opened herself up to love once more.

Over the span of an entire year, they had become irreversibly intertwined, growing ever-closer as they worked and relaxed in the garden, while taking their morning tea on the rooftop patio and talking in the sitting room late into the night… Through all this time, they had learned vulnerability by exchanging tiny pieces of themselves—a glimpse of the past, a discreet hint of affection, an honest thought. 

But even before Solstice, Elain had questioned whether Azriel would ever allow himself to accept her love, or if he would always find another reason to keep a safe distance between them—to convince himself he didn’t deserve her.   

She had wished to speak to him of his beauty and virtue until he had no choice but to see it himself, but as much as she wanted to flood him with her love, she knew it would make no difference if he’d made up his mind that he was unworthy of it. 

Suspecting there were scars he carried deep in his heart, Elain had been patient with him, but she would never again chase after someone who turned her away.

She’d long suspected his self-contempt was at the core of his choice to deprive himself of the affection she so readily offered him. But perhaps he no longer felt a relationship with her outweighed the obstacles between them, despite the bleary eyed promises they made to each other nearly a year ago as they knelt on the deck of that ship—promises to wait, to never lose hope. 

Whatever the reason behind his sudden change of heart on Solstice and his avoidance of her afterwards, Elain would not let any man or male break her ever again. She was no longer the same female who’d permitted Graysen’s humiliating rejection to destroy her spirit.

Elain had spent the past few months building a fortress around her heart and trying to forget every lovely facet of what had grown between her and Azriel. She’d tucked away her dreams and so many treasured, glimmering memories, but trying to let go of the past had been an endless struggle when it seemed that everything that surrounded her, from the extraordinary to the mundane, was somehow connected to him.

One spring, many years ago, Elain had scattered seeds that grew into a carpet of flowers with white centers and delicate, pale pink petals. She could still recall the charming fragrance that emanated from the blossoms. 

The following year, they had spread far past the space she’d allotted for them, overtaking large swaths of the flower bed and even springing up here and there throughout the sparse lawn. Elain was given no choice but to begin tearing them out, one by one, but she’d soon discovered that her efforts weren’t enough to tame them for long. The stubborn flowers grew back from a web of spreading roots beneath the soil, and any fragment left behind was enough to allow them to multiply and take over the flower bed once more. 

Elain considered that her feelings for Azriel were all too similar to those unruly flowers. No matter how she toiled to suppress the memories and weed out the feelings and desires from her heart, they only resurfaced when she least expected them.

Even so, she could not harbor anger toward Azriel when he had saved her twice, once from the terrifying prison of her own mind, and again from a horrific fate at the Hybern camp. He had listened and understood her when no one else had, and brought her comfort and happiness with his presence in a way she’d never known. He had looked beneath the face she displayed for the world and had readily embraced each piece of her that he found there. 

After everything, she cared for him too much to ever resent him, but that was what made this so difficult. 

She still loved him. 

Chapter Text

Azriel

Azriel brushed his thumb over the necklace and delicate rose pendant that rested in the palm of his hand. His entire chest tightened as he remembered the way Elain had shuddered beneath his touch as he’d fastened it around her neck, how her eyes had drifted shut as she anticipated his kiss. 

Most days, Azriel kept the necklace tucked away in the drawer of his nightstand, along with the headache powder and ear plugs Elain had given him over the past two Solstices. 

This was all he had left of her. The only proof she had ever cared for him. Beyond revisiting the blissful memories that haunted him, gazing upon these three items was the only way he could feel close to her now. 

Months ago, after the annual snowball fight with his brothers ended with his own infuriating defeat, Azriel had been desperate to rid himself of the necklace, the physical evidence of the hurt he had caused her

Az wasn’t sure why he’d been compelled to discard the necklace by leaving it to a priestess at the library. Perhaps in his misery, he’d hoped to discover himself capable of sending some small joy into the world, even while such things as happiness and peace seemed likely to always remain far out of his reach. 

Distraught he was, all he’d truly known was that he’d needed to get the necklace far away from him before he lost his godsdamned mind over it.  

But afterward, he’d only tossed and turned beneath his covers all night, regretting his impulsive decision. So the following morning, he’d gone straight to the library at the House of Wind, hoping he wasn’t too late.  

Clotho had welcomed him with a knowing grin, and revealed she’d kept the necklace instead of giving it away as he’d requested. The wise priestess claimed to have known he’d be back for it. Azriel had thanked the Mother for this small mercy. 

He’d been wrong to think he could return it to the jeweler or give it away on a whim. 

He couldn’t let it go.

He couldn’t let her go. 

Six months had passed since that Solstice night when Azriel felt everything precious in his world crashing down around him. It had been six long months since Elain had allowed her perfect eyes to look his way. 

As he’d always feared, he had destroyed everything beautiful between them.

Azriel looked down at his scarred hands as they cradled the necklace, and wondered if he would always be destined to ruin everything he touched.   

He’d had so much time to think about all that transpired between them, to dissect his thoughts and his most shrouded feelings. There was too much he regretted. 

Instead of spiraling into despair, he should have found her and explained himself. He should’ve told her he loved her before it was too late. 

When he’d taken on this isolation and misery, he’d thought he was granting her the chance to fall in love with someone else who would stand a chance at being worthy of her. At the time, he hadn't realized that by doing so, he’d taken away her choice. 

Azriel had always feared that Elain would never choose him in the end, but she had chosen him each time she invited him to join her in the garden, when she confided in him about her innermost thoughts, when she nurtured his heart with her gentle caretaking, and with every brush of her fingertips against his. She had chosen him all along, and he’d believed it to be so impossible, he hadn’t noticed that she’d laid it out so plainly before him.

He’d once compared Elain to the soft light of the rising sun, and he’d thrived in the warmth of her gentle glow. Ever since he’d shuttered the window to that light, he had withered in a darkened prison of his own making. 

After Solstice, Azriel had hardened into a numb shell of himself, resorting to that same ice-encrusted armor that had always been his greatest defense. But it wasn’t enough.

Elain deserved the truth, and he needed to apologize for the hurt he’d caused before the guilt consumed him entirely. 

For weeks he’d failed to find the words. He knew she hated him now—knew she would turn him away the second she saw his face, and he wouldn’t blame her for it. She had every reason to refuse to speak to him, and he feared there was nothing he could do or say to convince her otherwise. 

Still, no amount of logic or reasoning would smother the small flame of hope that still flickered within him. 

When Amren had contacted him and told him his help was needed in unraveling the mystery of Elain’s unusual visions, Azriel had wondered if the Mother had heard his pleas and granted him this opportunity. 

Yet ever since, fear had spread its roots through his optimism and had given rise to dread over the dozens of ways this could all go wrong. Azriel knew his heart couldn’t withstand it if he saw Elain look at him with hatred in her eyes. 

He had no more time to worry about it, though. If he waited any longer to leave his apartment, he would be late to meet her. Azriel tucked the necklace away in his nightstand drawer, muttered one last prayer to the Mother, and sent himself straight through his shadows to the front door of the river house. 

Azriel made his way to Rhys and Feyre’s personal library and spotted her instantly. She was sitting at a circular table, wearing a simple dress of midnight blue and watching the rain pour down through the nearby window. Azriel reminded himself to breathe. His legs somehow continued to carry him forward across the library floor. 

When he reached the large, wooden table, her head finally turned toward him. Elain’s dark eyes flicked up to his and she offered him a fleeting smile that was no more than an arch of her lips. There was no feeling, no warmth behind it. Her eyes were distant as they peered into his, patiently awaiting his instruction, offering little hint of whatever she might be feeling—if she still felt anything for him at all. 

Azriel’s heart wrenched remembering the way she used to look at him, as if he had been someone worth knowing, maybe even worth loving. She had once shone with joy and affection every blissful moment their eyes met, but all of that was gone now. 

Ruined. 

Like him. 

Every beautiful thing that had grown between them was ruined by him. Because of him. 

Azriel was suddenly too hot, the air around him entirely too heavy. He felt the cool touch of his shadows as they silently reminded him to shut out these feelings before he could be completely inundated by them. 

Elain’s face was still impassive, and Azriel knew she would see his own as equally blank, with all of his anguish expertly hidden. 

Her gaze did not stray from him. 

Azriel didn’t know what to say. Apologies, confessions, explanations whirled within him, fighting to escape from his mouth before he could ever think through them. 

Calm and resigned, Elain stated, “I’m ready when you are.” Despite her unfaltering composure, sadness bled through the serene mask that was painted like a glaze over her features.

Azriel clenched his jaw, stemming the rush of feelings that threatened to sink their savage claws into him. He nodded absently.

This was hell. This was punishment for his every sin—for what he’d done to her, and he deserved every aching second of it.

Through all of the dismal months he kept himself away, he wanted to see her, wanted nothing more than to have her near him again… but not like this. 

“Azriel…” she said with an air of forced calm. 

The sweet sound of his name on her lips rendered him useless. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. It took all the strength he could summon to remain standing—to not fall to his knees before her and beg for her forgiveness. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she murmured gently. Elain averted her eyes, gazing down at the massive rug that covered the library floor as she awaited his reply. 

Words failed him completely. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do this now, in this state, and risk that it would all go wrong. He would have one chance, and he knew whatever desperate apology he could manage in this moment wouldn’t be enough. 

“I can’t.” His voice was low, emotionless. 

He swore disappointment flickered in Elain’s soft brown eyes. “Okay,” she said. The words were thin and brittle as a dried rose petal. Fragile. 

Their hearts, and their words, and even the air between them—it was all so painfully fragile.  

Azriel was losing his grip on himself. Elain hated him, he was sure of it, but all he wanted was to cross the short distance between them and hold her, despite knowing he would only fall to pieces in her arms. 

Not now, Azriel, his shadows warned him. You cannot let yourself succumb to this now. Breathe, Azriel… Begin your instruction, as you’ve planned.

The starlight visions. The reason he was here…

Az forced his mind to focus—reminded himself to breathe. With each measured pull of air, he hardened himself into something cold and solid until he could form the words, “Amren informed me that your Sight is connected to the same dark realm as my shadows.” Elain nodded and he went on, “I’ve done some of my own research and reviewed everything Amren has covered so far, and I have a few leads on where we can begin.”

Azriel led her through each visualization exercise he’d carefully designed for this evening. He guided her to imagine herself blending into the darkness and reaching outward in all directions, searching across the populated and desolate lands of their world. He told her to watch and listen for anything trying to reach back toward her, but this had only resulted in so many concurrent visions vying for her attention that it overwhelmed her senses entirely.  

Next, he told her to concentrate on the starlight that found her with each vision, to imagine the feel of it, its exact color, and any feelings the visions conjured within her. He guided her to search for that light while imagining it calling out to her. 

When that didn’t result in anything, he methodically talked her through each of the remaining visualizations he’d come up with, but no matter what he tried, it led nowhere. Azriel hadn’t expected to see success so soon, and had come prepared with more strategies in addition to these, but he could tell Elain was growing restless and discouraged. The fine muscles in her face and arms were clenched tight and he had the sense that propriety alone kept her in the stiff, wooden chair and not walking out, straight through the double doors of the library. If she remained tense, her emotions would distract her from her task, and any mental barriers that were standing in her way would continue to fall into place. 

“Let’s sit by the fireplace,” he said, rising from his wooden chair. 

Elain hesitated as she eyed him skeptically, but she stood and pushed her chair in without a word. 

Once they were both seated at the tall, tufted chenille armchairs on opposite sides of the opulent fireplace, he explained, “The more you can relax, the more receptive you’ll be to the message that’s trying to reach you. I’m going to burn an herb known for its ability to induce a deep, meditative state. Through my research, I learned of an ancient group of clairvoyants. It is said they inhaled the smoke to relax and deepen their trances, making their visions clearer.” Elain only gave a faint nod, so he continued. “I want you to sit with your back and head resting against the chair and both feet on the floor.”

As Elain uncrossed her ankles and adjusted her position, Azriel reached into his shadows and retrieved a bowl, a small bundle of herbs, and a page of text he had copied down earlier. He held one end of the bundle up to the blaze housed in the fireplace, and once it ignited, he blew out the flame and set it in the bowl on the small table beside Elain’s chair. He could smell the scented smoke wafting through the air as he returned to his chair.

“Now close your eyes and focus on calling forth the female from your visions,” he said while dimming the faelights. “As you do, I’ll recite a prayer to the Mother, calling upon her to guide you in your search.”

It was a lengthy, beautiful prayer, and Azriel read the words aloud as Elain closed her eyes and summoned her power. He had no way of knowing if they were making any progress. Each time he looked up at Elain, her body was entirely still besides the subtle movement of her eyes shifting beneath her eyelids. 

When he finished the prayer by expressing his gratitude to the Mother for her guidance, he slipped the piece of paper to his shadows and sat back in his chair to wait. 

When the sky had grown entirely dark and Azriel checked the clock, he began to worry. 

“Elain,” he said gently. “Are you okay?”

His question was met with nothing but the sound of the rain still falling outside. He knew she could hear and speak while accessing her sight, but Elain did not respond. She sat with her hands in her lap, completely still aside from the gentle rise and fall of her chest with each slow breath she took. A chill slid down his spine. Had she traveled too far into that murky realm?

“Elain?” he tried, a bit louder. 

“Hmm?” She shifted in her seat and her eyes fluttered before she settled back against the armchair and her breathing slowed again. She was asleep. 

Relief rippled through him, but Azriel studied her unconscious form with concern. Was she so deprived of regular, restful sleep that she dozed off within minutes of sitting down in any darkened room? Did she still spend each night agonizing over what went wrong between them, as he did, or did her visions disturb her slumber?

Azriel was unsure what to do. Waking her was out of the question, as she was clearly in need of rest. And he surely couldn’t slip his arms beneath her and carry her to bed. 

Az left a shadow to watch over her while he searched the nearest rooms and retrieved the first throw blanket he could find.

Azriel’s breath caught as an especially treasured memory flooded his mind. One afternoon, over a year ago, Elain had helped him find sleep by reading to him from a book of poetry. He’d been resistant to her offer, but in the end he couldn’t decline when she looked at him the way she did, when he realized her wish to help him was entirely genuine. 

Back in the library with Elain, he draped the soft, quilted blanket over her, careful not to touch her. She wouldn’t want that, he acknowledged dismally, not as she once had. 

As he meticulously tucked the blanket into the creases at both sides of the armchair’s cushion, Azriel felt an overwhelming rush of satisfaction. It felt too good to take care of her like this. 

Through all of the many years he’d spent in this world, Elain was the only one who had ever broken through the icy walls he kept around himself, the only one who managed to truly connect with him—who had reached deep enough to meet his soul. Even if she despised him now, nothing would take that away. 

So he did something his heart had urged him to do for a very long time. 

“I love you,” Azriel whispered, his voice as gentle as raindrops sliding over flower petals. 

His near-silent profession would be completely lost to her memory, but this was the only way he could tell her the truth about how he felt. 

Content that the blanket was tucked snugly around her, Azriel took a step back. 

This was the closest he’d been to her since the night of Solstice, and he couldn’t bring himself to move any further from her just yet. This close, he was still fully surrounded by her scent and it was stirring up so many memories and feelings inside him, like piles of fallen leaves swirling in a gust of autumn wind. 

Azriel thought of all the time that had passed since he’d been near her like this. He noticed a soft bronze glow to her skin and knew she’d spent plenty of time beneath the sun this summer. He wondered how many seeds her elegant fingers had planted, and how many miles her legs had carried her through the sun-dappled forest trails she liked to explore just outside the city. He gazed upon the features of her face and hoped she’d found plenty of reasons to smile in the time they’d spent apart.  

Knowing he couldn’t remain here like this, Azriel finally turned from her and returned to his chair by the fire. He reached into his shadows to collect his reports, and began seeing to the paperwork that had come in throughout the day. 

The first time he paused his work to glance at Elain, a wistful longing bloomed in his chest. He could nearly imagine that they shared a home, and she had fallen asleep early after many hours of toiling in the garden earlier that day. As the rain fell steadily, he would finish the last of his work, and soon he would wake her gently with the cool caresses of his shadows and soft kisses against her neck. Azriel didn’t permit his thoughts to delve any further into his fantasy because Elain was certainly not his wife, and from what he could tell, she would rather be nearly anywhere else than here with him.

Somberly, Az returned to his work, flipping through pages and scribbling his notes and replies.

Azriel wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she began to stir. 

As if startled by her surroundings, Elain’s gaze swept across the room, fretful and disconcerted.

“Elain, you’re okay,” he said. “You’re in the library at the river house.”

Elain blinked quickly and creased her brow. 

“You met me here,” he reminded her. “We were experimenting with your visions when you fell asleep.”

Her perfect posture wilted as the realization sunk in. “I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be. I’m sure you needed the rest.”

“Lately I just…”

“You don’t sleep well,” Azriel finished. 

Elain looked at him with sadness welling in her eyes. “Neither do you.”

Azriel was jarred by the accusation, but it wasn’t hard to assume she’d noticed the faint, darkened half moons beneath his weary eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

“I’m fine,” Elain said as she tucked a lock of her wavy hair behind one arched ear. “Thank you for letting me rest. And for the blanket.”

“I’m glad you got some sleep.”

“We can stop there,” she said as she stood and began folding the quilt into a neat rectangle and draping it over the back of the chair. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

A ‘waste of time’ was the last thing he would ever think to call it. He’d been able to see her for the first time in months, and he hadn’t been met with the anger and disgust he’d expected to find in her eyes. He’d heard her voice again, and she had spoken to him without contempt. Azriel was thankful for this chance to be close to her, to tend to her while she slept. 

“It’s alright,” he assured her. “I used the time to complete work I would’ve done later on tonight.”

“You could’ve left…”

“I didn’t want to leave,” he said simply. 

Elain considered him with wary eyes, evaluating his comment. Azriel desired to stay with her as often as he could, for as long as she would allow. He’d spoken the truth. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to hide his own secrets any longer. Not from her, at least. He couldn’t change the past but he could be honest with her now. 

“Would you like to try once more with your power?” he asked. 

“I don’t know, I—” She shook her head and sighed. 

“What is it?” 

“We can, it’s fine… if you don’t mind this taking up any more of your time.”

The months apart hadn’t dampened his ability to read the shifts of her face, the altered tones of her voice. 

He looked into her eyes. “It’s okay that you fell asleep. It’s okay that we haven’t figured it out yet,” he told her gently. “This type of work takes time.”

Elain looked away and wrapped her arms around her waist. “It’s difficult when I don’t know exactly what I’m trying to do.”

Azriel knew that sense of helplessness, for he’d once experienced the same feeling before he’d mastered his own power.

“I think we’ve done enough for tonight,” Elain said stiffly. “I’d like to go home.” 

Azriel didn’t think before he spoke. “It took me well over a year to fully understand the language of my shadows,” he told her quietly. “I still remember the months I sat in darkness, hearing their whispers as they tried to make me understand… all while I tried and failed to make any sense of their words. Many days I felt like giving up. And there were plenty of others when I thought I had lost my grip on reality.”

“You were in darkness for months…” she said, with heartbreak etched across her face. “You were alone?”

So no one had told her. And she had not asked, for if she had, those that knew wouldn’t have hesitated to tell her. Truly, he respected her for never pressuring him to tell her of his past, and for not delving into his personal history with others. 

“I was kept in darkness for years when I was very young,” he explained. “Confined underground in a cell within my father’s keep. I saw daylight for one hour a day. And I saw my mother for one hour a week. It was during that time that my shadows first came to me.”

“I didn’t know,” Elain whispered. She did not shy away from the harshness of his story, and deep in her eyes, he felt he could almost see a part of her that wished to reach out to him. 

“I had little else to do, so I looked for patterns in their language, sounds that kept repeating more often than others—words,” he said. “I tried to make connections between what was happening around me and these words that were being spoken. Eventually, I began making sense of it, one word at a time.”

Elain nodded, with sadness and admiration reflecting in her eyes. “So you figured it out—all on your own.”

He nodded silently. “Your visions don’t have words to translate, but they require a similar kind of interpretation.” 

“My starlight visions are different,” she said. “There isn’t much to interpret when I can hardly hear or see them.”

“Your sight and my shadows aren’t the same. But I believe both our powers are influenced by our willingness to receive them. When I first heard the whispers of my shadows I tried to shut them out—to deny that this was happening to me. Only when I accepted them and grew curious about them did I begin to understand.”

“I tried to hide from my visions, too,” she admitted. “Lately, I’ve been trying so hard to let them in, but it hasn’t made much of a difference.”

“I know it’s difficult,” he said, wishing to reach for her hand. “It can be isolating. And frustrating. There’s no one to turn to—no one who can understand exactly what you’re going through—no one to give you the answers.”

Elain’s eyes met his. “That’s exactly how it feels.”

“I don’t understand what it is to be a seer, to receive visions like you do, but I know that feeling, and I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

Elain nodded. “Thank you, Azriel.”

“Would you like to try again?”

She agreed and Azriel pulled a circular slab of smooth, black volcanic glass from his shadows. It was held by an ornate metal stand and so dark it appeared opaque at first glance. 

“From what I’ve read, this is a divining tool that can be used to enhance the quality of visions.” He set it on the table beside her, next to the bowl of charred herbs. “If it works, you should be able to gaze into the surface of this dark mirror and it should reflect your visions back to you with enhanced clarity.” 

As Elain stared into the mirror, Azriel noted her posture—saw the tense jaw and clenched fists. He shook his head. “Stop.”

She turned to face him so quickly her curtain of loose curls flung back over her shoulder. “Why?”

“You’ve already given up,” he said plainly. 

Elain’s brow creased and she blinked in irritation. “I have not.” 

“Yes, you have,” he insisted with a soft voice. “You doubt yourself. You don’t think it’ll work. Why?”

“I’m hopeful it will work,” Elain said. “I have hope every time. But I also have good reason to doubt myself. I have high expectations for every new, promising idea… I feel so assured that it will be the answer, but each time, it leads nowhere.” 

“Every attempt is something new. Our lack of success with the previous attempt has no bearing on the next. But your beliefs and expectations for yourself might influence more than we realize.”

“Okay,” she said tightly. 

“Why do you doubt yourself?”

“I just told you.”

“It’s more than that.” When she remained silent, he added, “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it might be crucial to know whether a mental block is standing in the way of your progress.”  

Elain nodded absently, staring into the crackling fire. 

“I’d like for you to think through it,” he said as he stood from his chair. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with tea.”

Her shoulders sloped downward. “I promise I won’t fall asleep while you’re gone,” she said tonelessly. 

Azriel halted his steps and turned toward her. “Elain, if you need sleep, I want you to sleep. I would take you home right now if you want to rest.”

“No, that isn’t necessary.”

“Because you aren’t tired, or because it wouldn’t do any good since you’d struggle to sleep if you tried?”

Elain crossed her arms—not a gesture of anger or impatience, but one of self-protection. “It doesn’t matter why, Azriel.”

“If you want to sleep and worry you can’t, I would light the herbs again.” He didn’t care how it sounded. “I would read to you until you fell asleep. We’re surrounded with books. You could pick any one of them. I would stay here as long as you need.” 

“It… means a lot to me—that you would offer to help me sleep.” Her eyes softened toward him. “But I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll get the tea,” Azriel said as he disappeared into his shadows. 

When he returned with a small tray and two steaming cups of herbal tea, Elain thanked him before taking hers and they both sat, sipping their drinks in silence. 

“I fear I’m not capable enough to do it,” Elain finally said, unable to hide the shame from her eyes. “I’m scared that I’m going to keep trying week after week, but in the end, I won’t be clever or strong or powerful enough to make sense of any of this.”

“Who made you feel that way?” Azriel asked. 

“I did.”

Azriel knew there was more to it if she would look deeper. Her gaze drifted down to the ground and he waited. 

“When I was young,” she said at last. “My mother didn’t see any value in me beyond my outward appearance. I was treated as if my only purpose was to secure an advantageous marriage.” Her voice was hollow and expressionless. Azriel’s heart was already aching with every word. “No one ever expected anything remarkable to come of me and my family believed I had no depth or ambition. I was beautiful, lovely to look at and nothing more. I always preferred peace over defending myself, and I knew they always considered me to be spineless for it… and maybe they were right. I am not fierce or strong like my mother and sisters. Nearly everyone treats me like I’m simple and breakable, and I’m not blind enough to believe there isn’t a reason for it.”

“Your mother was wrong about you,” he said firmly. “They were all wrong about you.” Anger roiled inside him at the thought of her own mother diminishing her, of anyone making her feel inferior enough to deem herself so inadequate. He stifled the impulse to go to her side and offer a soft touch of comfort. “You are beautiful,” Azriel said. “Exceptionally beautiful. But you’re so much more than that, Elain. You are kind, but anyone who believes you are shallow or fragile because of it is mistaken. They may think they see weakness when they look at you, but it’s easy to be angry and it’s easy to harden yourself—to grow bitter; it takes true strength to face the darkness of the world without allowing it to strip you of your gentleness… your light.” Azriel didn’t keep the feeling from his eyes as he said, “If you saw half of what I see when I look at you, you wouldn’t question how extraordinary you are.”

Elain shut her eyes tightly and then met his gaze as she said, “And if you saw yourself the way I do, you wouldn’t question your worth.” Azriel could only stare back at her. Elain did not waver. “It is unfortunate,” she continued, “for me to be sure of my own goodness but doubt my strength, but it is equally tragic for one to be confident in his strength but unable to see his own goodness.” 

Azriel’s throat constricted. He remained frozen while his insides were swimming. How was it possible? How could she see anything good in him after what he’d done to her? 

Once he could form the words, Azriel said, “I don’t disagree. Especially when such beliefs led me to do something that I regret more than anything.”

He didn’t care if she realized he was talking about her—of how he’d caused her pain and squandered his chance at a future with her. He might have admitted more had Elain not turned ashen and averted her gaze from him, her heart thumping loud and quick.

“I should be going,” she murmured faintly. 

Azriel could only give a halfhearted nod. 

Don’t go, he ached to tell her… Don’t leave, because this wasn’t enough time and I’m afraid I might not have another chance…

There had to be something he could do—something he could say to allow himself just a few more minutes with her. “Can I take you home?” he asked quickly, realizing too late that he’d failed to hide his desperation.

Elain chewed her lip and gave a tense nod. She’d agreed, but Azriel still held his breath as he walked toward her and extended his hand. 

Elain placed her hand in his as she stood from her chair, and Azriel could hardly remember what he was supposed to be doing as he curled his fingers around hers. He knew it meant nothing to her, but to Azriel, it felt like an answered prayer.

He summoned shadows that cloaked them in darkness before sending them to the town house—Elain’s new home. 

On the front porch, Elain slipped her hand from his grasp and took a step toward the door. 

“Just because we didn’t succeed today doesn’t mean you’ve failed,” he told her. “Don’t lose faith in yourself. The Cauldron knew exactly what it was doing when it granted you these powers.”

“Thank you,” she said. “For tonight. For trying to help me.”

This was their goodbye. As a sense of urgency hurtled through him, Azriel was painfully aware he still needed more time. 

“Would you… could we do this again?” he asked softly.

“I’ll check with Amren to see whether she thinks it would do any good.”

Azriel nodded. Of course. Because this wasn’t about them, or fixing what was broken; it was an assignment from Amren. To decipher her visions.

If Amren deemed their progress unsatisfactory, he wouldn’t be granted another opportunity to meet with her, and only the gods knew when he might ever have the chance to apologize. 

“That isn’t what I wanted to ask,” Azriel told her, his low voice wholly sincere. “Elain… can I see you again?” She went entirely still. “I know I don’t deserve your time, but there’s so much I need to tell you—so much I need you to know.”

He waited, with his palms sweating and his fragile heart racing as Elain swallowed and looked back at him with eyes full of sorrow. “I want to say yes, but I’m not sure if I should,” she said delicately. “I’ll need time to think about it, Azriel.”

He wasn’t sure whether to rejoice or despair. “I have an assignment in Spring,” he began. “I’m unsure how long I’ll be away, but if you decide you wouldn’t mind it, I would love to see you when I return.” 

“Send me a letter when you’re back in the city,” she said guardedly. “So I’ll know whether you’ve changed your mind.”

Azriel rustled his wings, unable to prevent the reflex. It stung. It was his fault she doubted him—entirely his fault she knew nothing of his devotion to her. 

“I will write to you the second I land in Velaris—I promise you.” Azriel ran his fingers through his hair. “Is there… is there anything you need before I go?”

“There isn’t. Thank you for bringing me home…” Her eyes met his and the rest of the world ceased to exist. “Goodnight, Azriel.”

“Goodnight, Elain.”

She slipped behind the door and closed it so gently it barely made a sound. 

Azriel stood there on the front porch so he could catch his breath before he sent himself back through shadows, to his apartment on the other side of the city. He would contemplate every word that she said, every glance they exchanged—for the rest of the evening… and most of the night, and truthfully, each day that followed. Until he saw her again.

Chapter Text

Azriel

Dear Elain,

I’ve just returned from my assignment in the Spring Court. I’m writing to ask if you’d give me a chance to see you again. I owe you an apology. There’s so much I need to explain and you deserve to know the entire truth. I understand why you might not want to see me, and I realize you may need time to make your decision. I’m painfully aware that I don’t deserve an opportunity to speak to you, but I truly hope you know my intentions are good and I believe this conversation is important for both of us.

When we spoke on your front porch, you seemed to doubt whether I would still want to see you when I returned, and I know your reluctance to believe me is wholly my fault. If you give me permission, I will do everything in my power to earn back your trust. 

Azriel

Azriel had sent the letter nearly five days ago, but no response had come. After checking for mail no less than eight times each day and having to force himself through his work while completely preoccupied with this, there was no denying that it was eating him up inside. 

He smoothed out a small crease in his bedspread and glanced out his bedroom window. A useless impulse. Az knew he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of Elain’s wavy golden-brown hair or her breathtaking figure as she walked the streets below. He knew this for certain, as his shadows were under strict orders to notify him immediately whenever she wandered anywhere near his apartment, yet he still couldn’t stop himself from searching for her.   

Restless energy rippled through his body, coaxing him to do something to rid himself of this awful feeling, but Azriel hardly knew what he could possibly do to put an end to it. He resisted the urge to check for mail again, certain that nothing had been delivered in the past fifteen minutes.

There could be many reasons for the delay, Azriel told himself. Elain could be taking her time with her decision, or perhaps she’d been busy or feeling unwell. His heart sank at the thought she was intentionally trying to make him hurt, keeping him anxious and waiting for words that would never come, just as he’d done to her. It would be a punishment he rightfully deserved. 

At this point, Azriel couldn’t know how many times he’d analyzed and replayed the events of their last meeting in his mind, but he’d come to the conclusion he’d been much too overbearing when he’d met with her at the river house. 

This was far beyond his grasp. At no point in the past few centuries had Azriel felt so unprepared to navigate a single situation. His only relevant experience was whatever had once existed between himself and Mor, which meant he might as well have had no experience at all. He didn’t have the slightest idea how to show Elain how he felt without also smothering and overwhelming her. 

Tell her this, a shadow murmured. Tell her…

Azriel smiled sadly. How could he? Should he send yet another letter? If only he had Elain’s gift of sight so he could consult with the divine source of that power to determine which threads he needed to pull—what he needed to do or say to culminate in a future where she might look at him the way she once did. 

A shadow was suddenly winding around his wrist. Azriel’s stomach turned leaden, for this was the specific shadow Rhys had ordered him to leave with Elain in the days following the war, meant to trail her and only report back to him if she were in danger or faced with a dire emergency.

Hurry! it said as it anxiously raced over his chest to circle his neck. Help! Elain… Town house garden! Hurry! Go!

Azriel didn’t spare a second before he disappeared into shadows and reappeared in flight high above the town house. He spotted her immediately, kneeling along the garden path in an airy brown dress. He let his shadows carry him once more, depositing him directly at her side as his heart hammered away beneath his ribcage. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his entire body thrumming with panic.

Startled by his sudden appearance, Elain gasped and scrambled back from him, eyes wide and chest heaving. She looked him up and down. And then she laughed— a bright, silvery laugh with her eyes squeezed shut and her hand covering what was surely a wide grin.

“My shadow…” he said, his eyes frantically scanning her for injury, for blood or distress. 

“Your shadow is a sweet little soul who overreacted to a minor scrape,” she said, still grinning as she stood and brushed the soil from the coffee-brown fabric of her skirt.

Azriel chuckled and got to his feet as well, while the anxious shadow continued to race in circles around the taloned tip of his wing. Help! it pleaded. Help now!  

“See. That’s all,” said Elain as she showed him the palm of her hand which was crossed with shallow scratches and pierced by two brown thorns that still protruded from her skin. “I’ve already removed three of them.”

“Here, let me,” he said, offering his hand. 

Elain looked at him with hesitance, pulling her closed fist in toward her chest as if she wanted to hide it from him. A cutting pain swam through his gut. 

“It’s okay,” she said. “I can take care of it myself.”

Azriel tipped his head toward the shadow, still winding around his wing. “He might not settle until I assist you.”

It wasn’t a lie. But the shadow’s anguish was nothing to the need inside him.

Elain glanced up at the panic-stricken shadow and reluctantly placed her hand in his with her injured palm upwards. “Okay, but only because I don’t like the idea of him all worked up... I’ve grown rather fond of him.”

Aware of every breath between them, Azriel gently eased the first brittle, brown thorn from her torn skin. He didn’t dare inhale too deeply, prone as he was to becoming completely overtaken by her enticing scent. Elain didn’t tense or flinch, only watched as the broken skin slowly knitted itself back together, never lifting her gaze from her slender hand that rested lightly in his.

“I was sitting outside,” she said. “And when I noticed the alyssum was overgrown, I began to rip some of it out. I didn’t see that it was tangled into this dead cane that branched out so far from the rose, so I grabbed and pulled and, well… I’m sure you can guess the rest.”

“You ended up with a hand torn up by thorns and an uninvited guest spoiling your tranquil morning in the garden.”

Elain’s lips twitched upward. “Something like that.”

Now that the dizzying surge of adrenaline was subsiding, Azriel found himself thankful for the opportunity to see her, for the sense of peace and purpose that settled over him as he cared for her. 

He expertly removed the final curved thorn from beneath her skin and tossed it into the mulch of the flower bed and it was done. 

“Thank you,” said Elain, tucking her hands into the side pockets of her dress. “He seems to have calmed down now.” Azriel acknowledged her thanks with a bow of his head. “Sorry for bothering you over this,” she said. “I’m sure you have much more pressing matters to attend to.”

Hardly. There was nowhere else he’d rather be. “Don’t apologize,” he said gently. “I’m glad I could help.” Azriel dragged a scared hand across the back of his neck. “And I’m sorry for frightening you. I'll be sure to have a discussion with my shadow regarding the definition of ‘dire emergency.’”

The corners of her lips curved upward once more. “It’s alright.” 

At the sight of the faint smile that lingered upon her face, Azriel felt an echo of the way it had once been between them, but like a misty blanket of fog spreading between the forest trees, a tense silence gathered in the space that separated them. He could tell by her posture, with her arms wrapped around her middle and her gaze aimed downward toward the flagstone garden path, that she did not want him there. 

He knew he should go. With both thorns removed and his shadow settled peacefully within one of the darkened folds of her skirt, Azriel had no reason to remain at her home. The acceptable thing to do would’ve been to politely check if she needed any further assistance and then bid her farewell. 

Yet he remained, still as the cypress tree behind him, holding his breath as he waited to see if she would send him away. 

But then her perfect lips formed the words, “Would you like me to show you the garden?” She asked the question so delicately, as if her words might shatter if she spoke them any louder. 

The world went still and Azriel’s head emptied of all thought. “Yes,” he replied, utterly solemn and stunned with disbelief.

As he walked alongside her, Azriel remembered many mornings spent much like this, when she had talked openly with him and turned toward him with one vibrant smile after another as she led him along the garden path. Now, her entire demeanor was cautious and distant, in a way she’d never been toward him within this flourishing, shielded space. 

It was more than he should’ve expected. More than he deserved. But Azriel ached for the way it had been. He longed for those blissful days when they had found peace in the company of one another and Elain had told him about every flower, tree, and shrub. 

It was here, in this garden, that they had let down their defenses and learned to trust each other. Within these brick-walled borders, and along the garden path, among the plants and petals—this was where he’d fallen in love with her. A crushing wave of need swelled within him and he knew it shone in his eyes as he glanced over at her. He did nothing to erase it as he said, “Tell me about them.” His deep voice was velvet-soft. “Please.”

Elain went still. Azriel swore that the wind itself settled and the leaves quieted their rustling. 

Perhaps she only did so because she could sense his desperation, but Elain cleared her throat and directed his attention to a patch of cosmos, telling him that she’d grown them from seed and they would begin blooming any day now. And before long, she was going into detail about the thriving garden that now belonged entirely to her—how the plants were faring this year, changes she’d made within the flower beds, and the tasks she had accomplished this spring. 

Azriel could nearly imagine that the time had not passed and there was nothing strained or broken between them. Her soft voice soothed the miserable ache inside him, and gradually, even his darkest shadows faded away. Today was an impossible dream that had come true right before his eyes. 

As they turned the corner along the garden path, the sun chased Elain’s shadow from where it sheltered itself between the folds of her skirt, and to Azriel’s horror, it darted up her arm, ducked just beneath the wavy curtain of her hair and began nuzzling her neck.

“I’m sorry,” Azriel blurted, watching in disbelief as the shadow slid over her skin with slow, intimate strokes. In the language it spoke, he hissed, Stop that at once!

Cauldron boil him . Up until that point, the morning had been going shockingly well. Elain had tolerated his presence without appearing as if she wished to bolt from him at any second, and in fact, there had even been moments when she actually seemed to want him there with her. He would be damned if he would allow one of his shadows to ruin this for him.

The errant shadow obeyed his harsh command and no longer rubbed against her like a needy cat, but it still clung to her, nestling in against her neck. Safe, it murmured contentedly. The warmth of her skin… the sound of her heart…

Azriel sighed. Exasperated as he was, he couldn’t blame his shadow for wanting to be close to her, for finding comfort in her warmth. “No, it’s okay,” Elain insisted. “I’m used to it… he does that fairly often.” Her cheeks flushed until they were as pink as her roses. 

Unable to recall any time in the past hundred years he’d been this mortified, Azriel replied with grave seriousness as he told her, “He shouldn’t do that at all… I can replace him with a different one, and I can give it specific orders to remain at least one foot away from you at all times.”

She couldn’t meet his gaze as she insisted, “He’s fine. He was only trying to hide from the sun on a bright afternoon.”

Azriel nodded, trying to disguise his embarrassment beneath a mask of cool indifference. He hoped Elain realized that he hadn’t ordered the shadow to behave this way.  As much as he wished to take the shadow’s place, for it to be him among Elain’s curls with his mouth on her neck, to suck and caress that very spot until she was shivering with pleasure, his shadow’s habits had little to do with his own desires.  

He’d believed that the shadow mostly slunk along unnoticed and unseen by her, never suspecting that the sneaky little bastard had set about endearing himself to Elain, had become so close to her that he felt at home against her soft skin. “If you ever have any problems with him, don’t hesitate to tell me,” he told her.

“He’s sweet,” Elain said as her lips curved into an affectionate smile. “I enjoy his company.”

Azriel tried not to bristle with jealousy over the fact that his shadow was currently in better standing with the female he loved than he was. 

But he would fix that. He wouldn’t rest until he had mended every tiny fragment of what had gone wrong between them, until he apologized and begged for forgiveness…

But where could he even begin?

He’d been so close to confessing everything when they met at the river house, but she had been visibly unsettled by his words. It would be too risky to attempt it again and chance upsetting her so deeply that she would refuse to speak to him again. She hadn’t responded to his letter but seemed surprisingly open to his visit today, and Az couldn’t begin to fathom what that could mean. 

But today was good. This felt good. For the first time in months, Azriel could feel his heart lighten and the stagnant gloom inside him begin to clear away. 

Elain paused to watch a luminescent butterfly with glittering wings that had perched itself upon a flower, and Azriel couldn’t stop himself from taking a moment to admire her beauty. Mother above, she was gorgeous. And here in the garden, surrounded by lush foliage and an abundance of blooming flowers, she looked as if she were some goddess of the earth and all things that grew from its soils. 

His gaze slid over the dips and curves of her body and he had to force himself to look away before need tore straight through him. 

Needing a distraction, Azriel reached into a shadow. “I found these at the Summer Court this week,” he said, opening his hand to reveal an assortment of small shells and a piece of ice-blue sea glass he’d hand-picked for her. “My work was in Spring, but I was stationed in Summer.” Knowing how fascinated she was by the foreign lands he traveled to, he’d once made a habit of returning with items he’d collected from the places he visited—usually wildflowers, leaves, and fruit. Her face would brighten every time he presented them to her, and she would listen, thoroughly captivated as he described the landscape in vivid detail. Unsteadily, he asked, “Would you want them?” 

Elain glanced at him, weighing her decision before she nodded once and held out her hand. Azriel placed his empty hand beneath hers, holding it still as he let the shells cascade from his palm into hers.

She turned them over with the tips of her fingers, studying them with fascination glimmering in her eyes.

He told her of long, sandy beaches that disappeared into tranquil, turquoise seas and he described the small, peculiar creatures that collected in shallow pools when the tide receded. Enchanted as she was by his every word, Azriel couldn’t help but dream of taking her there. He imagined how her smile might sparkle when she finally saw the tropical paradise in person, wondered what her exquisite body might look like in the light, airy styles of the Summer Court. If he ever had the chance, he would take her everywhere—anywhere she ever wanted to go. Just to watch her eyes light up as she took in the beauty of every far-off destination, to experience every city’s finest offerings with her.  

It was a bold hope for the future, especially when he considered the wreckage that laid just behind them. Looking out over the expanse of the garden, Azriel was reminded of how much he had missed—her joy as seedlings sprouted, the hours she would’ve spent spreading mulch throughout the flower beds, the colorful sea of so many flowering spring bulbs.

“I didn’t see the tulips this year,” he remarked solemnly as they continued through the garden. 

They’d planted dozens upon dozens of tulips together nearly two years ago. It was a memory he revisited often—an afternoon of working in the garden, tender glances, and shy smiles that ended with the two of them retreating from the cold and drinking hot tea beneath a warm blanket until dinner time. 

Last spring, Azriel had been stunned to see the result of those hours together in the form of sprawling drifts of soft pink flowers that brightened the awakening flower beds.

Elain glanced back at him from over her shoulder. “They’ll be back this spring, if you’d like to see them again.”

It was entirely possible she was just being polite, but to Azriel, it felt like a second chance. 

“I won’t miss them again,” he swore. 

If she somehow cared to see him again, there was nothing that would stand in his way. Not her bond to Lucien, not his own self-doubt, and certainly not Rhys’s order to stay away. If Azriel had to fight to love her, he would do it without question, and if alliances were broken and his actions exposed his court to the wrath of Autumn, then so be it. But if Elain could find it in her heart to welcome him back into her world, he would be there. If against all odds, she would give him another chance to be close to her, he would take it without hesitation. Gods, he’d already wasted so much time. But uncertainty hindered him from taking the next step. He still had no idea what she thought. What she wanted.

“Elain…” he began. “I’m sorry if I was too forward when we met in the library. I didn’t mean to upset you… but I want you to know I’m trying.” Azriel’s eyes shuttered. They’d both halted their steps in the middle of the garden path, and when Elain turned to face him, he looked deep into her gentle brown eyes. “I’m trying to be honest about how I feel. To you… Only for you.” Her expression remained open and patient. She shared in peaceful silence with him as he gathered his next words. “I want to prove that I can open myself up to you, but I’m unsure if that’s something you want from me. I’m afraid of overwhelming you. The last thing I want to do is cause you any more pain than I already have.

“I know the right thing to do is to give you space and time to decide what you want from me… to figure out whether you want to hear what I’d like to say to you. But it terrifies me to think that my absence might lead you to believe I’ve stopped caring.” Azriel pulled his wings in tighter. “I’m not sure what you want me to do, but I will do anything you ask of me.”

“It wasn’t intentional that I didn’t respond to your letter, if that’s what’s troubling you,” Elain said gently. “I’ve been out of town and didn’t see it until late last night.”

Azriel’s fears were quelled, but his blood went cold as new ones arose. He was tempted to ask about her travels, but he was afraid to find out who had accompanied her, or who she might’ve been visiting. 

“It’s alright,” he told her. He was certain to keep his face blank and his tone unaffected. “Take your time. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Her gaze drifted to the ground. “I’m not ready yet… to hear what you have to say. But it feels okay to have you here.” She looked into his eyes and Azriel was completely disarmed. He felt as if he was drifting in the deep sea, with her words as his only tether. “I’ve missed you, Azriel. I’m not ready to hear your apology… but I think I’d like to be your friend again.”

He released the breath he’d been holding. It was more than he could’ve hoped for. He would accept anything she offered.

“I’ve missed you too, Elain.” 

His friend… always his friend. They had cared for each other as friends before he’d ever dreamed of belonging to her, of making her his . And he hadn’t stopped being her friend when he fell in love with her… but the love he felt for her wasn’t something that could be reversed. It had altered the fabric of his heart and nothing would ever serve to undo it. Even now, there wasn’t a fiber in his body that wasn’t urging him to hold her. But being her friend… he wasn’t sure what she was expecting of him. He needed to ask what it meant to her, but before he could speak, a shadow curled around his ear. 

You are no longer alone, it whispered. The half wraiths are approaching. 

“You have visitors,” he said.

Elain took a step back, as if she was suddenly aware of how close they stood, and they both turned their heads toward the town house to see Elain’s two friends as they walked straight through the thick wood of the back door. Matching expressions of surprise flashed across their faces before the two sisters vanished entirely.

“Wait! Come back!” Elain called out to them. Cerridwen materialized immediately, followed seconds later by her sister. “I didn’t forget about the pies. I got a bit scratched up in the garden and the shadow that trails me alerted Azriel.”

“We could come back later if you need more time,” Cerridwen offered as her sister nodded. 

Azriel forced himself to say. “I’ll go. I didn’t intend on interfering with your plans.” To Elain, he softly told her, “I’ll see you again soon.” The words were a promise.

She nodded. “Thank you, Azriel. For your help with the thorns.”

“Thank you, Elain.” For this morning together. For this glimpse of her sunlight after so many darkened days. 

He commanded his shadows to deliver him to his apartment, where he stood, entirely unsure what to do with himself.

He was her friend… A friend who thought of her endlessly. A friend who dreamed of showing her the world and making love to her in every city.

He couldn’t know what she was thinking. He had no way to guess whether she would ever agree to listen to his apology… whether she might give him another chance. But hope had sunk its roots down deep, and after months of languishing in self-inflicted misery and loneliness, this morning had felt as miraculous as the pattering of rain on parched soil.

Seeing Elain today had made him feel awake in a way he hadn’t been in a very long time. Her scent, her smile, her words wrapped him up in a dreamlike haze that had begun condensing and melding into desperation deep within him. 

He needed her. He needed her so much that his entire body was demanding to plunge into shadows and return to her garden so he could take her in his arms and confess everything to her. Azriel’s body tensed, straining as he denied the impulse and held himself back.

It wouldn’t be easy, but he could withstand these temptations and the burden of controlling them if it meant he could keep her in his life. He would love Elain silently, secretly, even if it tore him up apart inside.

Elain

After leading Nuala and Cerridwen inside, Elain took a moment to rush up to her bedroom and braid her hair. She’d invited the two sisters over to bake blueberry pies today, and had lost track of time after Azriel’s very unexpected arrival. 

She’d seen the twins the evening before as well, when they’d stopped by, eager to welcome her home and hear about her travels. Her friends had listened intently as Elain told them how the summer heat had vanished the instant Rhys winnowed Elain and Amren into the heart of the Winter Court. Elain had never seen anything like the towering, snow-dusted pines that cast periwinkle blue shadows across glistening carpets of snow, and she had quietly delighted each time she’d spotted a new creature bounding through the still, icy forest beyond the windows of the bedroom she’d occupied during her stay. She’d especially enjoyed the stout, thick-furred cats that played chase and rolled about in the snow, and the round, downy-feathered, puffed-up birds that began each morning by whistling a sweet song that summoned the quiet forest to begin its waking. 

The frigid mornings were for curling up in the velvet chair by the window with a book, a cup of tea, and a warm, fur-lined blanket. When the sun rose high in the sky and the land began to warm, Elain would share lunch with Amren and then go out on her own to explore the city, watching as magnificent reindeer pulled sleighs through the streets, and stopping to browse through shop after shop in the marketplace. When the sun began to sink low in the sky, Elain would bundle up in layers and climb aboard one of the beautifully carved sleighs which carried her to her instructor’s residence, and each evening she would remain there until well past dark. 

Upon greeting the ancient female she’d journeyed to visit, with her otherworldly aura and pale blue eyes colored with wisdom and kindness, Elain had taken a liking to her at once. Her name was Arella and she had been born with the rare ability to call to the souls of the dead and speak with them. Although the time they spent together made no headway in Elain’s pursuit of understanding her clouded visions, the knowledge Arella had shared with her had been invaluable in renewing her sense of purpose, and her methods and practices had given Elain a better understanding of her own power. 

Over her many years of life, Arella had solved mysteries, unearthed valuable secrets, and helped hundreds of people find closure through the use of her abilities. Her life’s work and compassion for her people had provoked Elain to reflect on all she might accomplish—the difference she could make if she continued down this path. Beyond that, the female had given Elain a most precious gift—one last opportunity to speak with her father. 

When Amren had explained Arella’s abilities, Elain hadn’t dreamed of asking her for any sort of favor, but when the motherly female had offered to demonstrate her powers and asked if there was anyone Elain wished to contact, she’d offered up her father’s name without hesitation.

Arella had served as the bridge between Elain and her father, existing in two realms at once, delivering messages between them.   

From the moment Arella had given her a nod to confirm her success in locating her father, tears began streaming steadily from Elain’s eyes and she’d made no attempt to stop them, knowing the effort would make little difference. Arella had reached out and held Elain’s shaking hands while she conveyed her father’s words—an emotional apology for failing Elain and her sisters. 

“Tell him I forgive him,” Elain had whispered through her tears. “Tell him I love him and I’m so thankful for the love he gave me. Tell him thank you—for saving us all in the end. Tell him I would’ve loved him the same even if he hadn’t.”       

Elain would never forget the advice he’d given her. She’d preserved the words deep in her heart— Please learn from my mistakes, my sweet Elain. Do not allow your sadness to steal your life from you. When the world feels like too much to bear, do not block it out and hide yourself away. You are strong enough to handle anything that comes your way, if you only believe in yourself.

“Tell him I’m trying,” she’d said as she trembled. “Tell him I won’t give up.”

She had told her friends nothing of what her father had said. Elain would share her father’s apology with her sisters, but the advice he’d given her would remain hers alone. 

Once Elain finished braiding her hair and returned to the kitchen, she and the twins fell into a familiar rhythm of preparing for a late morning of baking, with Nuala pulling ingredients from the cabinets, Cerridwen picking out measuring cups and spoons, and Elain gathering all that was left—bowls, pie tins, a pastry blender, and rolling pins. Nuala and Cerridwen knew exactly where to find what they needed, and went about it as seamlessly as if they were in their own kitchen, which wasn’t surprising in the least. Though Rhys and Feyre had gifted the town house to Elain, the twins had called it home for decades. Centuries, perhaps. 

Elain turned off the sink. She wasn’t exactly sure why she’d turned it on in the first place. Again, she reminded herself of the job at hand and what she was supposed to be doing. The list of tasks kept fading from her mind, as if there was little room left to hold onto any thoughts that didn’t revolve around what just took place in the garden. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking of the way Azriel had looked into her eyes, his beautiful hands as they gently tended to her punctured skin, his deep, soft voice… gods, his voice… 

Cauldron damn her. She shouldn’t be thinking about him like this… She’d promised herself she’d be disciplined and rational—had been so determined not to let herself be influenced by the pull of him. She was stronger than this, wasn’t she? Had she truly learned nothing? 

A brush of cool mist slid across her cheek—the sweet little shadow who sought to comfort her. Elain smiled. She truly did enjoy his companionship, as heart-wrenching as it was to have such a constant reminder of his master.

“So…” Nuala said as she dropped a heavy bag of flour onto the work table that stood in the middle of the kitchen.   

Elain waited. She knew exactly what was going through Nuala’s mind, but she wasn’t keen on launching into a discussion about Azriel before the question had been asked outright. When Nuala didn’t pry further, her sister did it for her. “Are you going to explain to us what we walked in on?” 

Elain could already feel the heat rising into her face as she pulled a stack of mixing bowls from a lower cabinet. “I explained it when we were out in the garden.” 

“Yes, all that about the shadow fetching Azriel,” Nuala said dismissively. “But I’m pretty certain it was more than that… He was staring at you as if he was ready to kneel down and worship the ground you walked on.”

“He should after what he’s done,” Cerridwen chimed in, her whispery voice nearly identical to her sister’s, only more level in tone. 

Elain shook her head. “He looked tired.” He’d seemed equally sleep deprived when she’d seen him at the library, to the extent she’d spent the days that followed fretting over his well-being more than she’d like to admit. 

“He always looks like that these days,” Nuala told her, already pouring the first cup of flour into a large mixing bowl. Her fine-boned face twisted into a wince. “And he’s even more irritable than usual with all of us,” she added, surely referring to herself and her sister along with the other spies under his command.

“He’s always busy, always overworked, and his job is demanding and stressful,” Elain said, as if that explained everything. 

Nuala turned to her. “He seems sad.”

“I hope you don’t presume I should know why,” Elain replied casually. “You know we aren’t close anymore.”

Her friend gave her a sympathetic look. Nuala and Cerridwen were the only ones to know how heartbroken Elain had been over Azriel, and Nuala had been the one to wonder if there was more to the story, some missing piece that would explain why Azriel had stopped a kiss that he’d clearly wanted before vanishing for months. It had been Nuala who’d encouraged Elain to speak to him about what had happened—for clarity, for closure… Elain had refused, of course. But she knew Nuala firmly believed that Azriel had been equally devastated after this past Solstice. 

After seeing him twice in the past few weeks, Elain could say she suspected the same, though she couldn’t conclude the reason why. This had been his choice, after all. She had her suspicions, but she wouldn’t know why Azriel had seemed so haunted unless she caved to her curiosity and agreed to hear his apology.                 

“What are those?” asked Cerridwen, looking down at Elain’s hand that was tucked into the pocket of her dress, absently toying with the small shells inside. 

She was too perceptive. They both were. Nothing made it past the two sisters.

“Shells,” Elain replied simply. 

“Shells from Azriel?” Cerridwen raised her brows while using a pastry blender to cut the butter into the powdery mixture in the large bowl. “If he thinks a handful of seashells fixes anything, he’s sadly mistaken.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Nuala interjected.

“I’m sure he doesn’t expect me to forgive him because he brought seashells from the Summer Court,” Elain said, sprinkling flour over the work table. “And besides, he already said he wants to apologize. I told him it’s not the right time.”

“So that’s what the letter said, then?”

Elain nodded. Mere seconds after her friends had entered the foyer the night before, Nuala had spotted the letter from Azriel mixed in with the rest of the mail sitting out on the circular table beside the staircase. Elain had been hopelessly curious, but wouldn't have dared to open it with an audience. “Yes, that’s mostly what it said. I wasn’t sure what to think, but today I told him that I’m not ready to hear his apology but I’d like to see him again. As friends.” The twins exchanged a look and Elain glanced between them. “What?”

“Do you really want to know?” asked Nuala sincerely. 

Elain nodded. She did. She appreciated that her friends never hid the truth from her. Never treated her as if she was too delicate to handle it. 

“Elain,” Nuala began sympathetically, her dark eyes peering into hers. “I’m fairly certain your friend is still very much in love with you, and you’re going to need to decide what to do about that sooner or later.”

Elain chewed her lip. She knew. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes for anything but desperation and longing. Elain was well aware that Azriel’s desire to apologize was likely an attempt to repair what went wrong between them, and that’s exactly why she couldn’t let it happen. Not yet. 

If she listened to his apology now, Elain was unsure whether she would abandon her last scrap of dignity by recklessly forgiving him without a second thought, or if she would allow her anguish to overwhelm her until she commanded him to never speak to her again. 

Right now, she felt much too unsteady to put herself into that situation. So she would just have to wait. She would wait until she felt calmer, until she could manage to rein in her emotions. And she would wait to see whether Azriel would disappear again or if he would prove himself true to his word. Until she was certain he wasn’t going to abandon her without warning, Elain knew she couldn’t allow herself to become attached to the idea of a future with him. She couldn’t withstand having to go through this same heartbreak twice. 

She wouldn’t give him false hope or keep him waiting for long. If she came to the decision she wanted nothing to do with Azriel, she would tell him so. Because ultimately, there were only two possible outcomes—this would end with the two of them together or severed entirely. Elain loved him too much for it to be anything in between. It wasn’t a decision she could make impulsively. She needed time. She had to prepare herself to give him everything or nothing at all. 

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.”

Chapter Text

Azriel

Azriel had been prepared for a wide range of possible scenarios, both peaceful and violent, when he first saw the red-haired female crashing down onto Rhys’s back lawn. But what happened soon after—his dagger glowing with dark light as it hummed in response to the female’s sword… this had not been one of them. 

At Rhys’s order, Azriel had taken the invader to Elain’s empty town house. He was to begin her interrogation there and move her to the Hewn City if she became uncooperative. 

She now sat in a chair in the middle of Elain’s sitting room, surrounded by the others who had since arrived. Her manner of dress was unusual and she’d been doused with blood that was not her own. Amren assessed her with keen eyes while Cassian and Nesta stood nearby with their weapons held at the ready. Rhys had confiscated her sword, and Azriel stood beside her with Truth Teller held against her throat. 

Rage was smoldering quietly inside him as he waited impatiently for answers about her involvement with Elain. 

Azriel couldn’t deny there was a part of him that would be satisfied to make the stranger pay for the look of fear on Elain’s face when he last saw her, for the weeks of torment and frustration she’d endured while trying to decode the female’s messages, for the hopelessness and despair that shaded her eyes after so many sleepless nights. 

If she so much as displayed a hint of ill-intent toward the female he loved, Azriel would end this invader’s life in a matter of seconds and plead forgiveness to Elain later on for ruining her rug and armchair. The world-traveler was already leaving blood on the velvet chair as it was, but he was certain Rhys could remove the light stains easily enough. He hoped Elain wouldn’t hold it against him when she found out. Az would replace the entire thing if it was what she wanted. 

So far, the stranger seemed panicked and eager to cooperate. She had given them her name willingly—Bryce Quinlan. Beyond that, they knew she had appeared holding the ancient blade, Gwydion, which had been missing from their world for millennia, and she was searching for someone known as Prince Aidas after failing to make it to a planet called Hel. 

Azriel felt Rhys’s invisible claws at the barrier that surrounded his mind, scraping against those thick stone walls encased in ice. He allowed him entrance.

In a voice as dark and smooth as midnight skies, Rhysand spoke to the female in the Old Language.

You’d better have a very good explanation for both your arrival on our planet and the blood on your clothes, Bryce Quinlan. The translation of Rhys’s words appeared in Azriel’s mind. It wasn’t hard to guess he was doing the same for the others as well, with the exception of Amren who also spoke the same ancient language.

With desperation painted across her face, Bryce Quinlan gave her answer. Though Azriel couldn’t understand a word the female spoke, his shadows read and reported on her emotions while Azriel monitored the interplay of her heartbeat along with the tone of her voice and the subtle shifts of her face and body. 

She came here unintentionally when trying to reach Hel, a world inhabited by demons, Rhys explained. She’s looking for a male named Prince Aidas. She believes this prince will supply her with armies of demons who will fight at her side to save her world from beings called Asteri. Before she escaped to find help for her world, she was covered in the blood of an enemy. She did not make the kill, though she would’ve been happy to. 

All truth. 

Amren crossed her arms over her chest and spoke to the female. Her words were followed by Rhys’s voice in Az’s mind a moment later. Where did you get that blade? And how did you learn to speak this language?

Prepared to act at any moment if given the order, Azriel held still and awaited Rhys’s translation. 

Her brother retrieved it from a cavern and it answers to her. She is destined to wield it. She is royalty—a princess—in her world, Midgard, and was taught the ancient language because it is a part of her people’s history. Her ancestors made the crossing into Midgard from their home planet thousands of years ago and brought the sword with them. She is descended from Theia, High King Fionn’s queen. She possesses Theia’s starlight.

Pieces of her story and their world’s history were twisting and connecting as they all fell into place. This female was descended from the Fae who had disappeared from Prythian about fifteen centuries ago. They had survived for just as long on this foreign planet, Midgard, and now some race of malevolent beings called Asteri threatened their existence. Out of this upheaval, at least the meaning of Elain’s prophecy was now entirely clear. 

When sword and dagger—mighty twins of ancient power—sing to each other once more, pluck the eighth string to herald the new dawn of dusk.

The sword was the long-lost Gwydion, returned to Prythian by this world-traveler, and the dagger was his own blade. 

“Translate for me,” Azriel demanded when he couldn’t stand to remain silent for a moment longer. Rhys nodded and Az looked down at the intruder with narrowed eyes that offered no mercy. “What do you want with her?”

The female uttered one short word and Rhys provided the translation—Who?

Darkly, Azriel responded, “For weeks you’ve been contacting a female from our world. I’m giving you one chance to explain why.”

He observed her closely as she listened to Rhys’s translation and gave her reply. He noted no physical tells of deceit in her posture or face, no damning changes in her heart rate.

Desperation, confusion, fear… his shadows whispered. No malice. No deception.

Whatever she spoke, it was the truth. 

She swears she was not contacting anyone from our world deliberately, Rhys said. She was told the scar on her chest is a beacon to the homeworld of her Fae ancestors. Perhaps this beacon has been reaching Elain unintentionally.

Azriel nodded, and spoke into Rhys’s mind, Don’t speak her name in the presence of this female. His unrest had not abetted entirely, but he felt he could ease up with the rigid grip he kept on the dagger against the female’s throat. 

The female began speaking frantically and Azriel didn’t need to speak the Old Language to know that she was begging them for something. 

Rhys gave his response. Give me one reason why we should help you. 

As the female spoke, Rhys’s eyes widened and Amren’s face went slack. 

The Asteri wish to return to this planet to usurp power and feed upon our magic once more. They seek revenge. 

“The Asteri and Daglan are one and the same,” Amren said aloud. 

——

Azriel laid in his bed with a pounding headache. When it became clear that they would need to cooperate with this female in order to protect their world and all they held dear, Rhys had ordered Azriel to stand down and the group relocated to the river house to begin calculating a plan of action. 

The circumstances of the foreigner’s arrival had been worse than Azriel imagined. Had she sought to harm Elain or this planet, he could’ve ended her life and they could’ve moved past all this without a second thought, but this… this was not quite so easily dealt with. 

With fifteen thousand years between the Daglan’s last appearance in Prythian and the present day, Azriel had always thought of the parasitic race as a legend of the past—enemies vanquished by a great hero long ago—not an active threat, poised to attempt reinvasion at the first opportunity that should arise. 

Their entire world was scrambling to spread the news, with Rhys and Feyre working relentlessly to contact allies far and wide, urging them to ready their armed forces and prepare for the possibility of a hostile invasion from an unseen, distant enemy. The Daglan knew that Bryce was the key to opening the gates between worlds, as she possessed the ability to create and close portals. If she returned to Midgard and failed in her mission, the Daglan would be sure to use Bryce’s abilities for their own devious plans, which included a swift return to this planet, the one they coveted more than all others.

The Daglan had to be eradicated, and the obvious next step was to contact a demon known as Aidas, Prince of the Chasm. 

Late last night, once Elain and Nyx had been taken back to their homes, Bryce had been moved to a heavily guarded room in the House of Wind, and the Inner Circle had been called to the river house to privately discuss the matter of getting a message to the demon prince from Hel. 

They believed Bryce Quinlan when she said this Prince Aidas could supply armies that would be essential in her plan to eliminate the Daglan on her home planet. If she managed it, then her world would be saved and their own world would be spared from conquest. But the question had gone unanswered—what methods could they possibly use to contact a being from another planet? 

Rhys had deemed it too dangerous to put the Harp in the hands of a stranger. Azriel had agreed. Trusting an outsider with a magic item of such immense power was too great a risk, especially after the Harp proved to possess something of a will of its own. But most of all, there was nothing to stop the female from stealing it and making use of it in her world once she’d finished the job. 

The princess explained that she could create a portal if enough power was directed at the tattoo on her back. The inked design contained the pulverized remnants of the Horn, the fourth item of the Dread Trove, but it was uncertain if magic that existed outside of her world would be suitable to activate it correctly. 

Even if it was, she was clearly incompetent with this power, as she had transported herself to this world instead of her desired destination. To send her through a portal would be to chance that she could end up lost or killed on another planet, unable to raise any army to eliminate the Daglan. And if she failed to close the portal correctly, their world would be left completely vulnerable.    

All other political matters were put on hold while the court prioritized this disaster. Azriel had been ordered to do whatever it took to get inside information on the plans of other courts and lands, scoping out whether adversaries had any plans to try and win influence over the newcomer, and whether foreign rulers were scheming to take advantage of the pandemonium so that they might move to seize power while the world was distracted.

He’d been in contact with his spies until the early hours of the morning, but he needed to at least try and get some sleep before he began another day of this. 

Azriel sighed and flipped onto his other side, adjusting the pillow beneath his head. He knew it was hopeless to think he would be able to relax enough to sleep tonight. Not with so much weighing on him.      

His eyes snagged on his nightstand drawer. It didn’t take long before he caved to temptation and reached for the metal knob, opening the drawer and feeling around the inside until his fingers landed upon the item he was searching for.

——

Despite the heavy burden on his mind, Azriel woke with a rare feeling of contentment, pleasantly drowsy and achingly hard, with Elain’s scent lingering in the air, surrounding him like a cloud of sweet honey and jasmine. His lips formed a lazy smile until he realized that the female he loved did not share his bed. 

A quick command to his shadows had them scouting the area until they confirmed she was nowhere within the walls of his apartment, and had never been there at all. It had taken him one short, heart-wrenching moment to realize that what he’d hoped were memories—the evening he’d spent worshiping Elain’s body, making love to her slowly, the way he’d drifted off to sleep as she blessed his bare skin with loving strokes of her fingertips—it had been nothing more than a heavenly dream. And the lovely perfume clinging to the air around him—it was his comb. The same comb that he’d swept through Elain’s long hair just the day before, the precious comb that still held her enchanting scent. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep with it resting on his pillow beside his face—had meant to stash it away in the drawer of his nightstand so he might stand a chance at preserving the fragrance for a little while longer before it faded away. He was vexed by the thought of Elain’s scent disappearing into nothing, just as his perfect dream had. 

Gods, it hurt. It was cruel that his dreams could show him everything he’d ever wanted and the morning would steal it all away the instant he opened his tired eyes. 

He’d been close, so close to being able to tell her what she meant to him. Each time he’d seen her, Azriel had clung to every smile, every glance, every word that she shared with him. And now, after all of this, his need, his hope had taken on new life until it eclipsed all reason. Azriel could scarcely be forced to remind himself that she was every beautiful thing in this world that he would never deserve. But he wouldn’t stay away this time, not so long as she still wished to see him. 

And maybe… perhaps he’d finally realized that the love he had for Elain outshined the loathing he felt for himself. 

That’s exactly what it was… After all this time, his need to love her spoke louder than the voice that told him to continue punishing and denying himself. He needed to know what it was to be hers, even if it meant exposing the truth of himself and lying it at her feet, to be embraced or rejected by her. If she gave him the chance, he would offer himself to her and face the outcome, whatever it would be. 

The same thoughts still hounded him. Did she want him? Would she keep him if she knew of his darkest thoughts, of the horrific things he’d done? Would he be enough to make her as happy as she deserved to be?

Azriel often wondered—if he opened up to her, as her rosebuds did, would she have the patience to let it happen in its own time? Would she tolerate his reticence in the same way she didn’t rush the roots in the frozen ground to send up flowers before their season? 

Truly, none of that would matter if she couldn’t forgive him for the hurt he’d caused. Before anything else, this was the concern that kept him awake at night. And now, after the way his last, unplanned visit had ended, he had to worry whether she would entertain the idea of seeing him at all. 

Azriel spent the majority of his morning overseeing the complex operations of his network of spies in the aftermath of the Starborn Princess’s arrival. With as much as he had to manage and coordinate, it wasn’t enough to stop thoughts of Elain from remaining at the forefront of his mind. 

He could hardly think of anything past his memory of her scent and the way she’d moaned as he’d dragged the brush over her scalp, through her damp, gold-tinged hair. When he’d sat behind her on the sofa, tending to her as if he were her lover, it had taken every bit of his will to smother his desire, but that sound of pleasure had shattered the firm hold he had on himself, and the heavy scent of his pent up need had flooded the air while he’d been helpless to stop it. 

Hardly a moment passed that he wasn’t plagued by shame for caving to such a terrible lapse of self-control. And now he wasn’t sure if it made more sense to write her a letter in apology or to pretend it never happened. He was furious with himself. Azriel had spent over five hundred years mastering restraint and composure, and it had all meant nothing the moment that sweet and sinful sound escaped her mouth. 

Nothing and no one had ever held such power over him, not until Elain had swept into his life like a soft springtime breeze, stirring up feelings within him that were unlike anything he’d ever known. She held his heart in her lovely hands and if she cared to keep it, he would let her have it. All of it. 

A sensation of restless energy gripped him, spreading like a shiver down his arms and spine. Suddenly, this couldn’t wait for another day. He knew it wasn’t the right time, amidst the preparations and panic that were spreading across the world. He didn’t care. This would be settled today, and there wasn’t a thing that could stop Azriel from doing what he should’ve done months ago.

Fifteen minutes remained before the meeting at the river house was set to begin. This wouldn’t take much time. With that buzzing energy urging him forward, Azriel sent himself to the river house. In seconds, his shadows had located Rhys, reporting that he was already in his study, along with Feyre, Bryce Quinlan, and Amren. Azriel reappeared just before the door and entered.

“Rhys,” he said. “I need to have a word with you. Privately.”

Rhys nodded, with a look of concern aimed at Azriel, at the shadows that swirled around him in an angry flurry. He crossed the room and grabbed Azriel’s shoulder before winnowing them to a quiet sunroom, decorated in light, earthy tones. Rhys seemed as if he was waiting for Az to take a seat at the long sofa before them, but he remained standing.

Without one bit of remorse, Azriel leveled a cold glare at his High Lord and stated, “I’ve defied your order and I’ve been visiting Elain.” His voice held an undercurrent of icy bitterness. Rhys stiffened, as if poised for an argument, but Azriel continued before his brother had a chance to speak. “By the grace of the gods she is allowing me to see her, and until she turns me away, I will continue to do so. I don’t give a fuck what you think about it, or what Lucien thinks about it.”

“Azriel—”

Wings fanned out and shadows whirling, he forced his breathing to remain regular and steady, kept his voice flat and devoid of emotion. “If you insist on standing between us, then I will leave this court and find work elsewhere. But I suspect you need me to oversee operations until the unrest subsides, and yesterday gives me reason to believe my dagger may be of importance as well.”

Rhys blinked, his authoritative mask slipping. “You believe I only care to keep you in this court so you can carry out responsibilities?” Rhys asked, thoroughly composed yet incredulous. 

“I won’t be discussing this further,” Az stated dismissively before he commanded his swarming shadows to deliver him to the roof of the river house. 

Seated on the shingles of the slanted rooftop beneath a cloud-covered sky, Azriel blew out a heavy sigh. He needed fresh air, a moment of solitude before he joined the others in the meeting room two stories below. Despite his cold mask and unwavering composure, Azriel was ablaze with the need to move, to release the roiling anger that had built up until it surged beneath his skin. His siphons flared with blue light as his body ached for a fight. But he was tired. So hopelessly tired. His shadows soothed him, running over the hot skin of his face. They had no words for him, only the comfort of their cool touch. 

Azriel. It was Rhys, speaking into his mind. Azriel clamped down his mental walls as a fresh rush of adrenaline barreled through him, as it almost always did when he thought back to that night, to the words his High Lord had fired at him, the words that still haunted him, still tore at him. Words that could stoke his temper in seconds if he gave them any attention.

He shut Rhys out. Shut it all out. Let the familiar chill settle into his skin and bones, extinguishing the heat of his rage, freezing the adrenaline that coursed wildly through his veins, bringing him down from this volatile state until he could once again think clearly. 

Like a pond with ice spreading over its surface, Az allowed himself to be encrusted with an impenetrable, frigid armor.

When he was sure he’d be late if he remained on the roof any longer, Azriel sent himself inside, back to Rhys’s study. He nearly halted mid-step as he entered the room. Feyre was seated at the end of one of the two long tables, Nesta along the side, and it was Elain who sat between them at the corner. 

Azriel silently cursed the Cauldron as he walked past Rhys’s desk, toward the tables that were laid out before a set of bookshelves. He’d been counting on securing himself the chance to address what happened between them before they would’ve crossed paths again, to apologize if she was upset with him. Elain’s presence here was the last thing he’d been expecting. He’d never known of a previous instance of Rhys and Feyre inviting her to these meetings. 

He’d often wondered if the exclusion upset her or if she’d requested to be left out, but he’d never asked, considering the question too intrusive. Azriel supposed that the High Lord and Lady had extended this rare invitation because of Elain’s role in detecting the foreigner who’d flung herself between worlds. 

Mercifully, she gave him a subtle smile before returning to conversation with her sisters. Azriel took a seat beside Cassian, on the same side of the table as Elain, knowing that he would’ve spent the meeting thoroughly fixated on her if she was within his line of sight. 

Mor breezed into the room, shutting the door behind her before sliding into an empty seat beside Amren. 

“That’s everyone, then,” Rhys declared from beside him, at the end of the table opposite Feyre. Despite the words they’d just exchanged in private, there was a spark in his brother’s eye—of satisfaction and determination. “We have excellent news and a promising development in our quest to contact Aidas, Prince of the Chasm,” he announced, violet eyes scanning the attentive faces of those who sat around the table. The room was completely silent, as everyone anxiously awaited details of a solution that had seemed out of reach just a handful of hours ago. “Bryce has brought it to our attention that in Midgard, there are mystics that are blessed with the gift of sight. They do not perceive the future, but they are able to see across the world, exactly as Elain does.” 

Every muscle in Azriel’s body went rigid. His shadows began to swirl and dive around him as Rhys continued with his explanation. “These mystics are capable of seeing far across the cosmos, projecting their sight past the boundaries of their world to visit and communicate with beings on other planets. After a preliminary experiment this morning, we’ve discovered that Elain’s sight can work in the same way.” Azriel blinked. He’d never once heard of any ability like this. 

“Magic is weakened in Midgard,” Rhys went on, “And these mystics must work in groups of three and require advanced technology to accomplish this feat. But here in Prythian, magic is much stronger, and Elain has already proven herself capable of projecting her sight past the atmosphere of our world and into the depths of space. We’re confident she can send it further to find Aidas and speak to him on our behalf.”

Azriel was frozen, in awe that this power existed in their world and had been mastered by Elain so easily, but also gripped with fear over the possible pitfalls in Rhys’s plan—what this might mean for Elain and her safety. Azriel was skeptical that it was truly this simple. This type of magic seldom was.

Azriel casually leaned forward enough to catch a quick glimpse of Elain, who appeared to be a portrait of calm, revealing no trace of what she was thinking or feeling about the task that stood before her. 

“Absolutely not,” Nesta snapped. “You will not use Elain for this.”

“There are protections put in place,” said Feyre. “And we feel confident that there is no significant risk to her safety.”

“So there are dangers, then,” came Nesta’s clipped voice. “There must be, if this protection is needed to begin with.”

“Yes, but—”

“You,” Nesta said sharply, cutting off her sister to address the world-traveler. “You’ve seen this in practice? Have you known it to go wrong?”

Bryce’s face in response to Amren’s translation said enough. She had witnessed it at least once—had possibly seen it go awry herself. 

“No,” Azriel said, immovable as stone, before the princess could say a word. “The risk is too great. If this doesn’t go as planned, the outcome could be disastrous.”

“Elain is projecting her sight only,” Rhys told them. “Her physical body will remain here with us. There is no reason to believe she would be harmed in any way.”

Azriel shook his head. “You have no idea what you’re doing. You’re sending Elain between worlds to Hel, a planet teeming with demons, on the premise that what you’re doing might be the same as something this stranger has seen on an entirely different planet.” With the ice in his blood honing his anger into something cold and sharp, Azriel aimed his lightless eyes at his brother. “This is reckless, Rhys, and you know it.”

“Elain has looked across our world with great success,” Rhys said confidently. “What she will be doing tonight is not much different. We are only sending her farther with added protections to account for the increased distance.”

“No.” Azriel’s voice was cool and unforgiving. “Elain is not some asset to be exploited. It is not your right to gamble with her like this.”

He couldn’t allow this to happen. His mind was generating one devastating scenario after another—Elain, unable to find her way home, demons attacking her mind, her sight and consciousness held hostage on some distant planet… He fought off a shiver as his body broke out in a cold sweat.

“There will be disastrous consequences for everyone in this world if we do nothing,” Rhys said firmly. “With our plan, the danger to Elain is minimal, but she and every single one of us will be doomed if the Daglan return. Elain is aware of the risks and she has accepted them.”

Azriel’s fists clenched beneath the table. With cold authority, he said, “I won’t stand back and watch this happen.”

“Then when it begins tonight, do not come,” Elain replied placidly.

Her gentle order stunned him enough to extinguish his escalating temper. In a low, toneless voice, Azriel ground out the words, “I’ll be searching for alternatives,” before he vanished into shadows. 

Chapter Text

Elain

As Cerridwen and Nuala looked on, Elain rummaged through the dresses and gowns that hung in her ornately carved rosewood armoire. She couldn’t wear anything too bulky or heavy, nothing too formal. No fine fabrics that would be ruined by saltwater. Unusual as it seemed, safely projecting her sight to another planet would require Elain to be fully submerged in saltwater, so she needed to select a dress to wear into a bathtub. 

Her day had passed too quickly and the time was drawing near. After Azriel’s exit from the meeting earlier that day, Rhys and Feyre had gone into detail explaining the task Elain would be undertaking. After addressing questions and concerns—most of which had come from Nesta—they’d all been dismissed. 

Elain had gone straight to her garden and immersed herself in her work, knowing it was the only thing that stood a chance at bringing any peace to her mind. She pulled out stubborn weeds and pruned brown, wilted blooms from green stems, and as her hands moved and her body fell into a rhythm of flitting from one task to the next, the sharp pang of fear in her chest dulled until it felt comfortably contained. Distant. 

Afterward, Nuala and Cerridwen had taken her out for tea and dinner in the city, providing her with a distraction that she very much needed. They laughed together and talked about a great number of things, none of which involved bathtubs or planets or demons. But now, it was getting late and all the distractions in the world wouldn’t delay her journey to Hel. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to do it. She did. If only she could calm her body and convince her mind to settle. If only she could be a bit braver…

Elain stepped back and eyed the rack of dresses with a judicious tilt of her head. “The newcomer said the mystics wear white,” she said thoughtfully. 

Nuala raised her brows and shook her head quickly. “A white dress in a bathtub? I wouldn’t, not unless you’re comfortable with everyone seeing straight through it.”

Elain turned crimson at the thought. She wouldn’t wear white, then. And she could rule out the soft pastels and delicate floral prints as well. The deep blues and purples seemed too stately for this task. The berry reds and wines were dark enough, but red was the color of passion, an emotional color. It wasn’t a good fit when she needed to drown out emotion to focus on her power. 

So many times, Elain had contemplated and selected the perfect gowns for balls and events of all kinds, but never before had she been required to determine which color of dress was best suited for the occasion of space travel. She considered which color would best connect her to her sight. Elain closed her eyes and considered the darkness there, just behind her eyelids—the blank canvas that her visions were painted upon. 

Black. She would wear black. 

A knock sounded at the front door and Cerridwen vanished in a puff of smoke, returning no more than three seconds later. 

“It’s Azriel,” she said. “Do you wish to speak with him?”

Elain chewed her lip as she pondered over the possible reasons for Azriel’s visit. “Yes,” she decided, when curiosity won out over common sense. 

“We’ll give you some privacy,” Cerridwen offered.

Hesitantly, Elain asked, “Do you think either of  you could find a black dress for me? I know I haven’t left you with much time, but…”

Nuala’s dark eyes glimmered like stars. “We’ll find you the perfect one.”

Elain smiled and gave each of them a tight hug. “Thank you both. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Nuala grinned. “Without us, you would’ve selected a dress that becomes see-through the second it goes into the tub, and they would’ve never let you travel through space again—your projection would’ve caused a riot from the moment you made it to Hel.”

Elain couldn’t stop the genuine laugh that broke free from her mouth. “And I’m endlessly thankful you’ve spared me from that embarrassment.”

Once the two had disappeared into mist and shadow, Elain walked briskly toward the front door, reassuring herself with a deep breath before entering the antechamber.

Azriel’s weary eyes searched hers. “Elain…”

“Come in,” she said with distant formality, unable to meet his gaze. “Would you like some tea?”

“No. I don’t want tea,” he said carefully, looking at her as if it was inconceivable that she was offering it at a time like this. “Elain… I…”

“If you’ve come to talk me out of this, it’s too late,” she said, quiet and calm, but unmovable. “I’ve made up my mind.” 

“I apologize if I upset you during the meeting today,” he said, shame darkening his face. “I only worry we’re rushing into this too quickly when we might find another way to contact Prince Aidas if given more time. I could send my entire team across the globe to find another solution. I would search Helion’s libraries myself.”

“We don’t have time, Azriel.” She looked up at him. “Do you think I will fail?” she asked, unable to hide the heartbreak from her eyes. “Do you believe I’m not capable enough to do it?”

“This has nothing to do with your competency,” he said firmly. “I don’t want to risk any harm coming to you, Elain.”

“I’ve agreed to do this because it needs to be done,” she said, lifting her chin. “There is no other way. You have no right to come here and attempt to cloud my mind with doubt at a time when I need to summon my own confidence.” Elain swore she saw a discreet flinch from him. 

“I spoke up because I couldn’t bear it if anything were to happen to you,” Azriel said. “I came here because I care about you…”

Elain shook her head, glossy curls swaying. “This is more important than just me.”

Fierce hazel eyes bored into hers. “There is nothing in this world or any of the others that’s more important than you,” he said with steeled conviction. “Not to me.” 

Elain stared back at him, stunned, before her face crumpled with hurt. ”How can you say that?” Her fragile heart fluttered uncontrollably beneath her ribs.

“I care for you just as deeply as I did the night we spoke of our feelings on the ship,” he told her. “I never stopped.”

She shook her head again, trying to hold the brittle, rattling pieces of herself together. “I don’t believe you.” The words were a weak whisper.

Azriel’s eyes were pained as he squeezed them shut. “I understand why you’d doubt me,” he admitted patiently. “But I swear it’s true.”

“Then why did you leave me on Solstice?” Elain demanded softly, but not timidly. “Why didn’t you do anything in the months that followed to even hint that you still cared?” This wasn’t the way she’d wanted to have this conversation, but she couldn’t stop herself. Like a rock that tumbled down a cliffside, she was gaining momentum with little care that she was racing toward an impact that could shatter her completely.

“You thought I didn’t care?” Azriel swallowed hard. “You thought my feelings could vanish so easily?” His low voice remained calm and cool, but Elain could see the clear evidence of his emotions running rampant beneath the surface—it was all there, written in his perfect  eyes, etched into his face.

“What else was I supposed to think, Azriel? I waited. I waited for you to come and find me… to tell me that what we had wasn’t a mistake.”

“That isn’t—I didn’t mean it like that,” he said tightly. “I’m sorry.” He took a step back, closing himself off, and Elain couldn’t stand it. “I shouldn’t have come here. You need to prepare for tonight and it isn’t the right time for this.”

“Then leave!” she ordered him miserably. He froze, as if rendered motionless by her harsh tone. Elain did not soften, nor did she relent. “And then you can avoid me for another six months until you change your mind and decide I’m desirable to you again. But when you do, I will not be so foolish to put myself through this a second time.” This was it. This was how it all ended, like lovely magnolia blossoms destroyed by frost, crumpled and browned before they’d ever had the chance to unfold. 

“No.” Azriel’s eyes were half-wild and completely frantic. Shadows billowed around him like a dark, raging storm. “I won’t. I won’t leave you. Elain… I’m trying. I’ve been trying…”

Elain wrapped her arms around herself. “You shouldn’t have to try to love me,” she said softly. “So don’t. I’ll never be enough for you.”

“That’s not what I—” Azriel took in a shuddering breath. “I’m trying to show you how sorry I am. I’m trying to show you how much you mean to me. I’m trying to show you that what I did to you on Solstice has been the greatest regret of my life. I will never leave you again, Elain.”

Elain’s world went still as she was granted the promise she had once prayed for over so many torturous weeks. 

It was not enough. 

“Why now?” she asked. “Why after all this time, when you had every chance to fix this months ago, before the damage had been done?”

“Elain, I—”

“You knew I was heartbroken,” she murmured, her voice trembling as silvery tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “You could’ve said something. You could’ve sent a letter. You could’ve spoken to me at any point… But you didn’t. You knew what I’d been through and you knew exactly what your rejection would do to me.”

“I’m so sorry…” He reached toward her with a shaking, scarred hand before forcing it to his side. “I wasn’t—I never wanted to hurt you.”

He had, though. He’d hurt her, and these past few weeks of reconnection, the shared smiles and his kindness—it all felt so far away. In this moment, she couldn’t feel anything past the aching, empty pit in her heart—a hole carved out from the place he used to be, a wound that had never healed completely. 

“Do you want to know why I haven’t agreed to hear your apology?” she asked soberly as she held herself tighter. “You want me now, but I’m scared that you will never care enough to stay. Not for long. And I don’t think I can live my life in fear of the day you change your mind about me again.”

“Elain…” The shadows grew darker, wilder. Through their whirling veil of darkness, she could see the devastation on his beautiful face. “Elain, please…”

“All I ever wanted was for you to do something, anything to show me that you cared.”

“I cared…” he choked out. “I always did.”

She shook her head sadly. “You didn’t care. You always held back. You never cared enough to show me—”

She said nothing further because Azriel’s hands were cupping her face and his mouth was meeting hers, and she hadn’t seen it coming through the tears clouding her eyes. And gods, his kiss was desperate, born from frantic need and feelings he’d hidden for much too long, but his lips… his lips were gentle.

Elain froze, and then with a whimper, she kissed him back, melting into him, her pain not forgotten, but unwilling to stop her arms from wrapping around his broad back. Azriel’s trembling fingers slid into the hair at the base of her scalp and stroked the nape of her neck over and over, as if he was making sure she was still there, as if he was reassuring himself this was real. 

“I’m showing you now.” Azriel spoke the words against her mouth. Then he kissed her again, and when his tongue brushed the seam of her lips, Elain yielded to him, and as he deepened the kiss, she caressed his back with long, steady passes of her hands. However much he would give, she wanted it all. Even if it ravaged her entirely in the end, even if this was all he would ever give her.

Because in her arms stood the male who’d risked his life to save her—the male who asked her what she was thinking of, just to discover the thoughts she kept to herself. This was a male who was kissing her like he loved her. Elain never wanted him to stop. 

She clutched at Azriel’s lower back, tugging greedily until she felt the satisfying press of his hips and cock against her, and then he moaned, a low rumbling arising from deep in his chest. It was the most beautiful sound Elain had ever heard. 

Between her legs, she was aching, and now she was nearly dizzy at the feel of his hard length against her stomach. She needed more. 

Still, Azriel kissed her, working the most exquisite magic against her lips, magic that she could feel shimmering in every empty chasm beneath her skin. Azriel dipped down to hoist her up into his arms and Elain hooked her legs around his back, the light fabric of her skirt bunching as she weaved her fingers into his silky black hair. 

He stepped forward until Elain’s back was pressed against the wood paneling that lined the walls of the antechamber, never ceasing with his lavish cascade of kisses—ravenous kisses that left her moaning and gasping and dragging her hands over his handsomely sculpted body, just to feel him, just to claim him for however long she could. 

There was nothing but Azriel, and like this, with his feelings an endless river, streaming into her through every touch, every untamed kiss, Elain was completely enraptured. His rich, woodsy scent was all around her and she inhaled it until he was every breath in her lungs, every thought in her head, every heartbeat in her chest. 

“Now can you tell that I still care?” he asked breathlessly, his lips parting from hers as he stroked her cheek. “Can you tell that I’ve thought of little else but you each day I had to stay away, and hundreds of days before then?” His eyes drifted shut as he sucked the rosy flesh of her plump lower lip. “Thoughts of you consume me.”

He kissed her again, his tongue meeting hers, her whole body answering the command of his own, savoring the soft press of his hips and the feel of rough hands that touched her so wondrously.

“You’re right,” he said, pulling back enough that Elain could see the entirety of his face. “I shouldn’t have waited. But I’m showing you now. And I’m telling you that you are everything to me.”

Elain’s gaze swept across the features of his face, taking him in, seeing all of him—the striking hazel eyes darkened with need, his magnificent wings, spread wide enough to span the width of the antechamber, gilded by soft beams of sunlight filtering in through the fogged glass windows… and she saw beneath a chest that rose and fell with heavy breaths, saw all the way to his heart—unfettered and laid bare before her for the very first time.

“I missed you, Azriel,” she breathed. 

His brows creased with feeling. “Gods, Elain, I missed you too.”

But as she held his face and traced his soft lips with her thumb, an unwelcome realization jolted through her. 

Rhys’s plan.

As Azriel leaned in for another heated kiss, Elain halted him with one gentle hand on his chest. “Azriel, I… I have to get ready…” She shook her head as if she was breaking free of a spell, unhooking one leg from around him and searching for the floor beneath her with her bare foot. 

Azriel carefully helped her down, studying her face. “Something’s wrong,” he said, pulling in his great wings as a flicker of fear went streaking through his eyes. “What is it?”

Elain tipped her head forward, resting her forehead against his chest. “I wanted to go into this calm and settled. And now my head is spinning…”

“I’m sorry…” Shadows began encircling him like bands of smoke, their return drawing Elain’s attention to the fact they’d been completely absent just a moment ago. He ran his hands down her back with one long, soothing pass after another. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you wanted…”

“I’m not upset with you,” Elain said, stroking the scaled leather armor that covered the sides of his ribcage. She felt him relax at her touch. “But Azriel, I’ve spent the last few months building walls around my heart, trying to learn how to be happy without you. I’m overwhelmed. And now, I have to travel to an entirely different world in one hour and I feel like I’m falling apart.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Elain.” With one hand still resting on the small of her back, he dragged the other through his hair. “I didn’t mean to make this harder for you.”

“You really don’t think I can do this?”

He shook his head. “It’s not that…”

“Then what is it?” she asked gently. “I thought you had faith that I could master my powers and use them to help others. But when I have a chance to do exactly that, you appear at my door to tell me I shouldn’t.” 

“I do believe in you,” he said. “I believe that you will master your gift and become the most accomplished seer Prythian has ever known. But I will always want to protect you and keep you safe. That’s who I am. And this…” A flash of emotion crossed his face and Azriel looked away. “This frightens me. It feels… too unpredictable. It’s difficult for me—when something so important is out of my control.” His eyes settled on hers once more. “I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you, Elain.”

“What if I end up lost?” she said, her gaze dropping to the marble tiles that covered the antechamber floor. “What if these Princes of Hel aren’t the saviors we think there are and they try to trap me on their planet?”

His siphons flickered, casting the antechamber in a cold, blue light. “Then I will find you,” he vowed, shadows gathering like menacing serpents. “I will destroy anyone and any part of the galaxy that stands in my way, and I will bring you back.” His strong arms encircled her and he pulled her in close against him. “If you need me, I will come for you.” Elain settled into his warmth, resting her cheek against his chest and folding her arms around him. 

Elain couldn’t remember the last time anyone had held her like this. Couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so safe. She knew he would be lying if he’d promised her that nothing would go wrong. She knew the possibility of anyone being able to help her while she wandered the depths of space was nearly nonexistent. But she trusted him. If there was anyone who stood a chance of finding her out in that endless, empty void, it would be Azriel. 

Elain prayed it wouldn’t come to that. She would never forgive herself if he had to gamble with his own life to save her for a second time—couldn't fathom the thought of anything happening to him. 

She wanted to do this on her own, wanted everyone to see that she was not as weak and helpless as they believed her to be.

“I really must get ready,” she murmured distantly. “I can’t be late.”

“Would you like me to stay?”

Elain shook her head. “Nuala and Cerridwen will be back soon with my dress for this evening. And I need some time alone before then.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding her tenderly against him. “I know I’m at fault for upsetting you today.” He stilled and took a cautious step back. His eyes found hers, uncertainty muddling them. “Do you still want—is this okay?” he asked, anxiously.

“Yes.” The feeling of him pulling away from her, even for a moment, left a heavy knot in her stomach. “As long as you want to. As long as this isn’t you changing your mind…”

“No,” he said, bending to nuzzle his face against her neck. “Never. I won’t let anything keep me apart from you again.” He pressed a gentle kiss against the side of her throat. “I won’t stay away unless you ask it of me.”

As much as it hurt her heart, she had to say it—“We have a lot to talk about, Azriel.”

He tensed. “I know.”

“But we will,” she told him, softly. “When tonight is over, we’ll talk about everything.”

Azriel nodded with relief. “Thank you.” With his hand at her waist, he stroked her side with his thumb. “I know you need to be alone right now, but I never want you to feel that I’m leaving you again. I won’t go until you tell me to.”

Elain’s anxious heart settled. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words, though perhaps Azriel had known. She suspected he was fully aware of each raw edge left overexposed inside her.

“I’ll see you tonight, Azriel.” Placing one hand on his chest, Elain balanced on her toes and wished him goodbye with a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” he promised. “We all will.” He held her close. “I have faith you will travel to Hel safely and the Mother will watch over you as you find your way back home.” And after one long, lingering kiss pressed against her forehead, he vanished. 

Before her thoughts had a chance to rise up into a towering wave, Elain’s attention was drawn toward the sweet shadow that accompanied her, who was now rushing in rapid circles around her wrist. He behaved in this way each time Azriel winnowed away, and she wasn’t quite sure if he was reacting to her own feelings or protesting over Azriel leaving. 

She smiled at him, appreciating the levity he brought to the moment before her fears began creeping in like common periwinkle, invasive and smothering. She could feel the seconds slipping away, disappearing too quickly, bringing her closer to the inevitable task that awaited her.

Elain lowered herself to the ground. With her legs bent in front of her and her skirts draping down from the peak created by her knees, she eased herself backwards until she was lying on the antechamber floor with her palms pressed flat against the icy marble beneath her. The tile cooled her overheated skin.

A lady knew better than to degrade herself by lying in the middle of a dirty floor. But tonight she was not a lady, she was to be a world-walker. And she was overcome with dread because she still didn’t know the first thing about being fearless.

Chapter Text

Azriel

He’d kissed her… Azriel had kissed Elain and he no longer knew what to do with himself while he wasn’t kissing her…

Half-dazed and incapable of trusting his legs to carry him anywhere, he stood motionless in the middle of his sitting room as he worked to catch his breath. 

To kiss her had been to taste divinity. Azriel’s body was still alive with it, as if her kiss had worked its way into his skin, seeping deeper until it colored the blood that ran through his veins. And now, there was nothing he could do to subdue the all-consuming need for more of her. 

In half a second, Az winnowed high into the air above his apartment before dropping downward and catching the air in his wings, sending himself into flight over the city of Velaris. He had to do something to redirect his body into thoughtless motion. Without such a distraction, he feared he would resort to desperate measures to put a stop to Elain’s journey to Hel, and once he’d accomplished this, he’d likely send himself to her front door to beg for one more kiss, one more chance to run his hands over her skin, for a single moment to give her anything she would willingly accept from him.

Azriel barreled through the sky with the vermillion sunset at his side, heading toward no destination at all, as if he could somehow escape the fear and yearning that blazed through him like wildfire. 

Az had spent an inordinate amount of time envisioning his first kiss with Elain. He’d intended it to be soft and patient—slowly exploring her mouth with gentle lips while worshiping the tantalizing curves of her body with loving strokes of his hands. Azriel had veered wildly from his plan, but the kiss had been everything he’d needed—the transcendent result of what had been building between them for years. He could only hope that some part of it had been what she’d needed, too.

It was possible that with a bit of space between them, Elain now considered his actions to be disgraceful. She had every right to feel furious over his dreadful timing and the liberties he’d taken with her. 

He’d surrendered to impulse and had acted rashly… Despite his good intentions and improbable good fortune with her over the past few weeks, he kept finding new ways to unintentionally sabotage his chances with her. 

When he’d knocked on her front door minutes ago, he certainly hadn’t meant to kiss her… He hadn’t meant to overwhelm her before she had to face one of the most daunting challenges of her life. Azriel had lost control of himself entirely. 

Azriel kept his gaze fixed on the horizon, looking without seeing, for he could focus on nothing but that miraculous kiss as it replayed in his mind, and he did not care to direct his attention to anything that wasn’t her. 

Still restless despite his flight, Azriel entered the library beneath the House of Wind, having timed his entrance so that he would be one of the last, but not the very last to arrive. While he valued punctuality, he wasn’t in the mood to be dragged into conversation with anyone. 

The library was pervaded by an unsettling quiet that hung in the cool air that filled the space. All potential guests had been turned away and the priestesses that worked there had been vacated to the dormitories for the evening—all of them protected and kept out of harm’s way while Elain would be sent millions of miles away to negotiate with a demon from another planet, blindly hoping for mercy and aid. Even Azriel and those of their group who stood among the most powerful Fae in Prythian were to be little more than bystanders. 

Azriel knew better than most that this was the price one paid for possessing a rare and valuable gift. Once Azriel’s shadowsinger powers had manifested and he’d reached the age of maturity, it hadn’t taken long for Rhys’s father to begin subjecting him to perilous tasks of surveillance and espionage while commanding him to commit gruesome acts of torture in his interrogations. For so many years, Rhys’s father had kept Azriel at his disposal for use as a living weapon, unconcerned with the toll it had taken upon his soul. 

While Rhys was nothing like the cruel and cold-hearted leader his father had been, Azriel knew there was a fine line between choice and obligation. The heat of his temper simmered inside him whenever he began to speculate on how much free will Elain truly had in her decision.

With his wings rigid and tucked in tight, Azriel approached those who had already gathered around an elongated bathtub on the uppermost floor of the library. The tub, which was filled with saltwater and bordered on all sides with a thick stone ledge, looked as if it had been taken straight from an alcove of one of the many luxurious bathrooms within the House of Wind. Knowing that Rhys was easily capable of moving furniture from one place to another, Azriel presumed that it likely had. 

Azriel exchanged one inhospitable look with Rhys and took up a spot with his back facing a tall bookshelf, his shadows half-veiling him from sight as they surged around him. He stood straight across from the tub, which sat before a red stone railing and the steep drop into the dark pit far below. 

With the two half-wraiths at her side, Elain appeared, making her way along the sloping path that spiraled upward through the subterranean library. 

One glimpse of her knocked the wind from Azriel’s lungs. 

Her hair was pinned into an elaborate braid and she wore the most exquisite black dress Azriel had ever seen. The bodice’s neckline arched over her breasts, meeting in a subtle V between them, and the dress itself flared out from her clipped waist. The entire gown was covered in a layer of fine tulle embroidered with deep black lace shaped into elegant, trailing sprays of roses. This delicate lace continued past the bodice and formed a scalloped neckline that cut across her chest, leaving her collarbone and shoulders exposed. Fitted, sleeves of that same lace sheathed her arms and were held closed by a neat row of black silk buttons that swept down each slender wrist. She looked like the living personification of an enchanted night-blooming garden.

Elain greeted her sisters, who showered her with compliments, but everyone’s attention was soon drawn to Cassian, who strode toward the group carrying a small, plush blanket. It wasn’t hard to conclude he’d fetched it from the upper floors of the House for when Elain emerged from the tub after her journey. 

“Got it,” Cassian announced as he passed the pale blue blanket off to Nuala and stood next to Azriel, acknowledging him with a casual half-smile and nod of his head. 

“That’s everyone,” Rhys declared. “Elain, Feyre, and I have thoroughly prepared for this, but I want to be sure that everyone here knows what to expect today. Elain will be using her sight to contact Prince Aidas in Hel on behalf of the Starborn Princess, and she will attempt to recruit Hel’s armies for the fight against the Daglan.” His brother glanced toward Bryce Quinlan. The female occupied a finely carved wooden chair near the foot of the tub and leaned toward Amren, who spoke to her quietly, translating Rhys’s words. “The salt in the water and Feyre’s light will protect Elain in her travels and I will go along with her, inside her mind, so that I can monitor her journey and serve as an interpreter when she speaks to Aidas. During this negotiation and throughout her mission, I can share these images and conversations with all of you as long as you let me past the gates of your mind when I make the request.”

Azriel clung to the small bit of reassurance he felt at this revelation. He would be able to witness every minute of Elain’s travels as she crossed the galaxy. He would be able to maintain this precious connection to her the entire time.

“When Elain gets to Hel,” Rhys said, “the room will cool and she will react to the change in temperature. Feyre will warm her water. She may move or flinch at times during the journey. This is normal.”

Azriel didn’t miss the pointed look Rhys gave to both himself and Nesta, as if to imply that any overreaction from either of them would be unwelcome. He turned toward Elain. “We are all grateful to you, Elain, for doing what is needed to protect our world and save another.” 

“I’m ready,” she said, her tone nearly unreadable. “I would like to begin now.”

Rhys offered his hand. “If I may?”

Taking his waiting hand, Elain allowed her sister’s mate to escort her to the bathtub, relying on him to help her balance as she lifted her skirts to step inside. She gracefully entered the water, and when her dress spread out around her, Nuala and Cerridwen smoothed and tugged at the fabric so that Elain’s legs were covered as she lowered herself into the tub. 

Feyre moved to the head of the tub and dipped one hand into the water to summon light that illuminated it from within. Meanwhile, Nesta and the two half-wraiths sat along the thick stone ledge that wrapped around the tub. 

Without a word, Rhys extinguished the faelights, and the only source of brightness that remained in the entire building was the light Feyre cast into the water.

Elain was about to leave him—she was about to leave them all. In minutes, she would be so far away that no one on this planet could truly help her, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Azriel’s stomach tightened and his shadows darkened, racing faster.

As they all offered their well wishes, ranging from Cerridwen’s short prayer and Cassian’s warm words of encouragement, Azriel remained still and silent. His heart was caught in his throat. He was numb, as if he were witnessing the horrors of a nightmare with his body frozen and his mouth sealed shut.

“Are you ready, Elain?” Feyre asked gently.

For a second, Elain glanced over at Azriel before nodding once to her sister. 

“Wait,” Azriel called out, as if he’d broken free of some trance. He crossed the floor and knelt at the side of the bathtub, uncaring that every pair of eyes in the room had turned toward him.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said in a low voice that was nearly a whisper. “If you need me, I will find you.” 

Elain carefully smoothed the layers of her skirt beneath the water. “I’ll be okay, Azriel.”

Azriel nodded. “If demons are an intelligent species, all of Hel will bow before you upon your arrival.” He looked deep into her rich brown eyes. “You are magnificent, Elain.”

For one blissful moment she looked at him as if captivated by whatever she found gleaming in his own eyes. Too soon, her eyelids fluttered, blinking quickly as she thanked him with a shy smile and subtle nod of her head. Azriel rose and returned to his spot by the bookshelves. He turned just in time to see Elain as she reclined and submerged herself within the long, glowing bathtub. Feyre manipulated the water to form a bubble over the bottom half of Elain’s face, quickly adding a channel to the surface so that she could breathe while beneath the water. 

Tinged with the faint blue of the water and surrounded in a gentle, glowing light, Elain was a picture of ethereal beauty. 

“She is searching,” Rhys told them.

Azriel felt claws scraping at his mental barriers. He allowed Rhys entrance without hesitation, eager for his brother to share his connection to Elain’s mind. The lead weight in his stomach lightened as infinite, star-dusted darkness came into view. 

Elain

Elain followed the pull of her sight, keeping her mind centered upon the essence of what she knew of the planet Hel—a dark and frigid world inhabited by demons and their princes—a tiny orb made of bronze that was affixed to Rhys’s orrery.

She was moving through the black emptiness of space impossibly quickly, yet it nearly felt as if she remained in one place as the rest of the solar system breezed past her. She had the sensation of floating in one place—in the same way her body was floating inside the tub back in the library. Even now, she could feel the warm water against her skin. It was not all that different from the way she let herself drift beneath the water when she swam. 

Elain felt nearly disconnected from the experience, as if she really was floating peacefully beneath the water of the lake and this was nothing more than a fanciful daydream. It seemed too unbelievable that she was capable of such a feat—that she was somehow managing it without the slightest struggle. 

Relaxing a bit, her mind began to wander and she fought back the flashes of memory that threatened to spring up unbidden, memories that would leave her mortified if she were to accidentally share them with her brother-in-law, who accompanied her from within the chamber of her mind. Besides her embarrassment, any distractions could interfere with her travels, and her sight could pull her off course or attempt to guide her home, to send her straight back to him—a male who currently needed to remain barred from her thoughts.

Hel, she reminded herself. Dark, cold, demons, Aidas…

There was no way to know whether she was on a course aimed toward her destination, not when she could hardly differentiate one segment of deep space from another. She had to simply trust that the strong tugging sensation she felt was her sight leading her to where she needed to go.

It really was beautiful, Elain thought. Upon a backdrop of velvet blackness, she saw stars shining with unexpected colors, planets and moons reflecting the light of their great stars, and swirling tendrils of galaxies. Elain couldn’t know how far she’d journeyed into the void of space, but she wondered how long this starry abyss stretched onward. How far could her power take her? Would her power be strong enough to carry her to her destination today? She had experimented with leaving the atmosphere of her own planet just this morning, had made it to the moon and back. But this was exponentially farther, almost impossibly farther.

She focused her attention once more. Prince Aidas, fifth level of Hel, the Chasm…

The Starborn Princess had explained that Hel had seven levels, each overseen by a different prince. When Bryce divulged that she’d visited mystics that were stationed upon a platform with seven floors beneath their tubs, they’d all realized the library would be the perfect place to emulate this, as it also had seven different levels that descended along one long, spiraling pathway. 

The Starborn Princess had promised that this prince was trustworthy, but Elain still worried about the demons that prowled this world—would Prince Aidas protect her from them? Was there anything they could do to harm her in this state? It was much too late to ask now. 

There. 

The tiniest dot appeared straight ahead of her. This was Hel. She knew it. Her power could feel it as it drew her in like she was a fish hooked on a line. The dot—the planet—grew larger while Elain’s heart pounded at a frenzied rhythm inside her chest.

This has to be it, Elain said to Rhys from within her mind. 

Excellent, he replied, able to see the planet looming before her, just as she saw it with her own eyes. You’re doing wonderfully, Elain.

Somehow she was. It was hard to believe that she had come upon the planet almost effortlessly. It felt as if Hel was speeding straight for her, though realistically, Elain knew it was she who was hurtling at full speed through the cosmos, nearing the inhospitable world with every passing second.

She approached the surface of Hel with its barren, rocky plains that stretched on for miles, and then she was being sucked down, deeper and deeper into darkness. It was cold. So unbearably cold and getting colder. Instincts told her to get as far away from this place as she could. Before she froze to death. Before the demons could sink their vicious jaws into her throat. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t turn back now when she was so close. 

Fifth level, Chasm, Prince Aidas…

Elain felt as if she were shivering, yet her projection did not quake and her teeth did not chatter. 

Warm her. It was Azriel’s deep voice that gave the order.

I am, Feyre replied with a convincing but forced calm that Elain could spot even from the depths of an entirely different planet. If I heat the water much more, I’d risk burning her skin.

As if he’d appeared out of nothing, a male stood before her—an elegant, youthful man with wavy blond hair and unnatural, glistening blue eyes. Prince Aidas.

She didn’t know how she managed to speak, but she recited the words in the Old Language as she’d memorized them, and she did so with all the eloquence and confidence she could summon. The message she delivered meant, “Hello, I am a messenger from the homeworld of the Fae, and I have been sent to contact you on behalf of Bryce Quinlan.”

Elain couldn’t make any sense of the prince’s reply, but Rhys could hear every word and he soon provided her with sets of short phrases that she repeated aloud to the demon prince. There was a certain solace in knowing this part of her task was completely out of her control. So long as this conversation continued, she needn’t fret about failing them all, for if anything went wrong at this point, it would not be due to any inadequacy of hers. Elain could only convey messages to the demon and pray that he found the words reasonable enough to let her walk away unscathed. 

During pauses between Rhys and Prince Aidas’s exchanges, she could hear Bryce and Rhys speaking to each other from her body back in Velaris. It was a comfort to have this connection to them all, to know she could hear every sound made by her family and friends, even while they were so incredibly far away.

He has agreed to provide aid, Rhys said into her mind. We have settled upon an agreement and a plan is now in place. You’ve done an excellent job. Come home, Elain.

Unsure how to conclude such a meeting, Elain  curtsied deeply, looked up at the prince, and told him, “I thank you sincerely, Prince Aidas.” 

She knew he did not speak her language but hoped she’d managed to convey her gratitude. Elain shifted her thoughts toward home, picturing her body as she’d left it and setting a course to return to it and become whole once more. 

It was done. She had found Prince Aidas and her job was finished. For so long she’d been dedicated to making sense of indecipherable visions, and weeks of defeat had deteriorated Elain’s confidence in both herself and her powers. She felt only relief.     

Elain barely glanced at the sparkling celestial marvels that passed her by. She would not lose sight of her path home. She envisioned the warm welcome that was waiting for her back in Velaris, the smiling faces of her friends and family. 

But instead of feeling comforted, Elain was gripped by an arresting sense of dread. A sudden chill crawled up her spine. She resisted the temptation to look around, afraid of diverting her attention and falling off course. 

Home. Elain urged herself onward, moving as quickly as she could manage. Velaris. Uppermost level of the library in the House of Wind. 

She considered using her power to search for answers about the strange feeling that plagued her, but she couldn’t be sure whether this use of her sight would interfere with her journey home.

Rhys, something doesn’t feel right.

Stay calm, Elain, came Rhys’s strong, reassuring voice. What are you sensing?

I don’t know… Elain took a shaky breath. I feel like someone is watching me. I feel like I’m not alone anymore… I don’t feel safe here.

Don’t stop moving, Elain. Keep your sight trained on the library. You’ll be home before you know it. 

“Hello Fae traveler, so far from home…” The emotionless voice came from just behind her, but Elain did not divert her gaze from the dark, star-filled view ahead of her. From the corner of her peripheral vision, she could just barely make out the form of a tall, skeletal female as she advanced to join Elain at her side.

The female appeared as a projection of herself, just as Elain did—partially transparent and floating as if suspended in a giant, black sea that stretched on endlessly. 

“I am a mystic from the planet Midgard, sent on behalf of the Asteri,” she said. “Answer our questions and we will part ways amicably.”

Amid hushed murmurs from the others back in Velaris, Rhys spoke into her mind. There’s nothing she can do to you. Don’t let her intimidate you. 

“Go back to where you came from,” Elain said dismissively, masking her terror. “I’m protected in the same way that you are. I know that you cannot hurt me.”

“We cannot harm you physically, this is true. But I can still slip inside your mind and view the secrets that you keep from us, information about your world and what keeps it so… protected. How that protection might be undone…”

A cold wave of terror jolted through her. She hadn’t known that the mystics wielded such an ability. Through her panic, Elain was unsure if she truly possessed the information the mystic sought, but if the female could access Elain’s sight while within her mind, there were no limits to what she might be able to discover. If the Daglan learned how to return to Prythian now, before Bryce and Hel’s armies had a chance to destroy them, countless fairies and humans would be killed—their world would be conquered and left in ruins.     

“You don’t want to do this,” Elain said gently. “I know you are sold into this life, that you have no free will in being here. My heart aches to think of the pain you have known.”

“Then you know I have no choice but to do as they command. I will be quick as long as you cooperate.”

“I’m trying to help you,” she said sincerely. “If my mission out here was successful, you will soon be freed from those who oppress you. Tell them whatever you must about me, but please let me go.” 

The mystic gazed at her with hopeless eyes. “I am sorry, lovely traveler.”

Elain held her mental shield firm and strong as she felt the mystic begin to pry at the small gap she had left open for Rhys’s access. 

She knew what she had to do. 

Rhys, I can’t keep her out with the gates of my mind left open for you, Elain said judiciously. I love you all. I’ll be home soon. 

Elain, wait—

I can’t.

As Feyre had taught her, she forced Rhys from her mind with one great shove and closed the gate.

Chapter Text

Azriel

His access to Elain’s view of darkness and stars had been the only thing holding Azriel together, and when it winked out completely, he erupted into motion, instantly charging toward her body. 

A wall of muscle blocked his way. Cassian’s arms locked around Azriel’s upper body, holding him firmly in place. Az threw his weight into a quick maneuver to break free of his brother’s unyielding grip, but as Cassian’s hold wavered, another pair of hands grabbed him, holding him back. Fucking Rhys. Gods, he would throttle them both. Over the roaring in his own head, Azriel could barely hear the Starborn Princess shrieking at him. 

“You cannot take her from the tub!” Amren snapped just inches in front of his face, likely in echo of what Bryce had been saying in her own language. Had he been rushing over to pull Elain from the water? He’d only known that he needed to get to her. Needed to do something. 

“If you remove her from the water you will shatter her entire mind,” Amren spat, glaring at him with  ferocious eyes. 

He hadn’t known. Shock arrested him entirely. Cautiously, Cassian and Rhys released him from their grasp.  

Heavy breaths sawed from Azriel’s chest. Her mind… Her entire mind. Fuck. This was so much worse than he’d thought… 

Nesta stared Rhys down with violent rage. “Get back to her!” she commanded. “Get back to her NOW!”

Cassian brushed past Azriel on his way to Nesta’s side and everyone went quiet as they looked to their High Lord. 

“I can’t,” Rhys replied tightly before looking at Elain with sorrow in his eyes. “She’s shut me out. There is nothing I can do until she nears our world and opens her mind to me again.”

Unless already connected to someone’s mind, Rhys’s powers could only reach so far, and Elain was vastly beyond this range. 

Feyre wore her distress on her face, but she looked to her mate with understanding. “Keep trying,” she told him, reaching out to lay a tattooed hand on his arm. “Once the mystic leaves, Elain may be close enough to allow you to re-enter her mind.”

Azriel remained deathly still, churning through possibilities in his head. If he had the ability to wield one Made weapon, perhaps he could make use of another…

“Bring me the Harp.” His gaze shot toward the foreigner. “She can create a portal.”

“Azriel, don’t be impulsive,” Amren chided. 

“You can’t expect me to sit back and do nothing.”

“Your plan is senseless,” Amren said, disdain glinting in her harsh, silver eyes. “Elain is likely on her way home as we speak. You won’t do her any good getting yourself lost between worlds.”

He wouldn’t hear it. His focus and drive—the promise that he could reach her and bring her back home—it was all that kept him from shattering. 

Azriel’s gaze slid to Rhys, sharp and vicious. “I told you…” he said, voice ice cold and fists clenched at his side. “I told you the risks were too great.”

Shadows slid over his skin, but there was no calming him now. Nothing could ease his suffering while his entire world was falling to pieces and his love, his brave and selfless Elain, was worlds away, defending herself against a vicious attack on her mind. 

One wrong word from Rhys and Azriel wouldn’t be able to hold back his fury. And Cassian knew it, because he was suddenly beside him, quietly telling him, “Not now, Az… You two can have it out later.” Cassian laid a comforting hand against his shoulder. “She’ll make it back, brother,” he said with calm confidence. “She’ll be okay.”

Feyre looked up from the tub and scanned their faces. “We have lost our connection to Elain but she is safe,” she told them. “She knows how to return and I’m certain she’ll make it back to all of us very soon.”

Bryce began speaking and Amren provided the translation; “Even if her mental shields fail, the mystic cannot harm her. The most she can do is search through her mind.”

Feyre nodded. “Even if the mystic refuses to leave on her own, she will be forced from Elain’s mind the second she passes through the wards.”

“But does Elain know that?” Azriel asked solemnly.

Chilling silence spread through the room as they all arrived at the same conclusion. No, it was highly unlikely that Elain was aware of this. 

Would she return if she thought there was a chance of dragging the foreign enemy along with her? Would the mystic use tricks or threats or powers unknown to take Elain back to her world?

Azriel shook his head. “I’m going after her.”   

Exasperated, Amren leveled a stern look at him and said, “You have no way of finding her and you know it.”

He scowled back at her. “You’re wrong.” 

He would find her anywhere. He would find her and bring her home. 

“Would you play a melody?” Amren asked derisively. “Would you pluck the sixth string or the sixteenth?” 

Azriel stood motionless, seething. He didn’t know. He had no godsdamned clue how to use the Harp, but he knew, as surely as he knew his own heart, that nothing would keep him from Elain if she needed him.

“Elain is clever and she is strong,” said Feyre resolutely. “She’s going to be okay.” 

“She needs you here, Azriel,” came Nuala’s wispy voice. “She will make it back, and when she does, she’ll be looking for you. She would be devastated to find you missing, and you know she would send herself straight back out there to find you.”

The thought clawed at his aching heart. He imagined Elain returning to her body, distraught and searching the room for him, only to be told that he was somewhere out in the galaxy trying to find her. The thought of Elain having to put herself at risk for a second time to rescue him, just because he’d been too impatient—it was unthinkable. But he was gutted by the thought that she was in danger at this very second, silently, desperately praying for him to save her. How long would she hold onto hope before she would conclude he’d broken his promise and abandoned her?

It was his fault. For standing back and letting this happen. He’d known this was a terrible plan—a poorly designed experiment with Elain set up as the potential sacrifice. He should’ve done more, should’ve fought harder… he could’ve gone to Rhys and Feyre himself to put an end to this  before it had even begun. But he hadn’t. And now Elain was out in the cold, inhospitable darkness of the universe, struggling to escape the mystic, scared and alone. If he’d been holding the Harp, his rage would’ve been enough to turn it to ash in his hands.

Tiny fists were beating uselessly against a cold metal door. The broken cries of his mother echoed from the stairwell. As did the cruel, thunderous words that spewed from the monster that had sired him. His mother and father were at least two levels above him in a house that was little more than a prison. A small, hoarse voice screamed and begged his father to stop… 

His pleas went ignored. As they always did. But he couldn’t give up… he had to try… There was no one else who cared enough to stop it. He cared, and he loved his mother with everything he had. But he was so small…

Gritting his teeth, he beat at the door of his cell with all his might, the impact stinging his skin, jarring him straight to the bone. 

“Stop it!” he screamed. “Let me out! Someone let me out!”

He stepped back from the door, trying to shake the ache from his hands, hissing in pain as hot, angry, hopeless tears filled his wrathful eyes. 

He needed to protect her, but he never could… 

He couldn’t make it stop…

It was his fault. All his fault…

The painful memory faded away, but the feeling remained. Hundreds of years had passed, and Azriel was not that boy anymore. But now, with his siphons and shadows, and all the strength and power that loomed within him, he had still failed to protect Elain. 

After all this time, he was still worthless. He was still ruined. He was still useless—each word struck him like a stab straight into his gut.

With Elain entirely out of reach, there was no way of knowing what she needed from him, and if he chose wrong, he could be responsible for dooming her to a terrible, unpredictable fate. He felt just as helpless as he had so many years ago from behind that metal door. 

Azriel couldn’t let himself feel. If he allowed the beginnings of emotion to slip through, he would compromise the rational, sensible part of himself that held the logic and drive he would need to get through this. 

He locked eyes with Rhys. “I need you to remove the wards on the Harp.”

“Azriel, I’m begging you to wait,” Rhys said with a softness to his eyes. “Give her a chance.”

“It might already be too late,” said Azriel gravely, terror snaking through his body. “You will remove the wards and give me the fucking Harp,” he demanded, his voice icy and detached. “If you try to keep me from her again, I swear I will walk away when this is all over and you will never hear from me again.” 

Rhys blew out a heavy breath before grabbing Azriel by the arm and winnowing them both to the river house. 

Azriel waited impatiently as Rhys worked to undo the wards and spells that fused the Harp to its place atop an alabaster pedestal. 

“The Harp is defiant and unpredictable,” Rhys said grimly. “It seems to enjoy causing mischief. Is this really something you can trust when it comes to sending yourself out into the galaxy—when it comes to Elain?”

“You really think I haven’t thought of that—that I haven’t calculated the risks?” he asked, eyes narrowed as he took the Harp from Rhys’s hands. “I wish there was another way but this is my only chance of reaching her. I refuse to stand around and do nothing when Elain is out there at the mercy of the Daglan’s puppet.”

With the Harp held at his side like a weapon, Azriel looked into his brother’s eyes. “If this goes wrong, and she returns before I do, do not let her go after me.”

“Azriel—”

“I need your word.”

Reluctantly, Rhys nodded and sent them both back to the top level of the library.

He noted that the twin half-wraiths now knelt on opposite sides of the tub, reaching into the water, each of them holding one of Elain’s hands beneath the surface. Elain had once told Azriel that when her two friends held her hands, the contact felt like an anchor while she was adrift in that dark realm of mysterious visions and voices.

Azriel’s fierce gaze found the red-haired princess. She was the reason Elain was in danger. She would help undo it. “A blast of power aimed at her back will open the portal—am I correct?” Azriel asked, siphons flickering as he looked to the others for confirmation.

“Azriel, wait,” said Feyre without looking up, all her attention focused on her sister.

“Take her hand,” Nuala said, moving to the side so Azriel could take her place at the side of the tub. “Keep it beneath the water.”

He looked at the half-wraith apprehensively before crossing the floor and kneeling in the space Nuala had vacated. Watching Elain’s face for any tells of distress, he dipped his hand into the tub. Az flinched, surprised to find the water bone-chillingly cold. 

Elain

Elain had to think of some way to rid herself of the mystic who drifted along beside her, clawing and prodding, trying to force her way into her mind. She tried to tune out the hushed whispers of those back home, as she could still hear a medley of muffled sounds from the library, from her body so far away.

“Your shield is strong but it is sure to falter eventually,” the mystic said. “Allow me entrance now and I will not need to follow you home.”

Elain’s stomach turned, but she found the strength to say, “Follow me all you like. Our world is protected from intruders like you.”

“Is it? Are you so certain the wards around your planet will keep me out—especially with you here to show me the way?”

Elain’s entire body went rigid. Could this be possible? She had no way of knowing… Elain had not needed to pass through any portal to leave her home. Perhaps the gates and boundaries between worlds were irrelevant to those who traveled the galaxy as she and the mystic did.  

If the female could somehow enter Prythian, then the world’s secrets would be hers for the taking and nothing would stop her from delivering them straight to the Daglan. 

Elain halted, floating in the middle of the blackness between worlds. She couldn’t risk the peace and safety of her home, yet she didn’t know where else to go. She was only familiar with one other world, so she turned around and set a course straight back to Hel.

She had to hope that Prince Aidas would come to her aid once more, that he wouldn’t turn against her for escorting an enemy to his planet. If Bryce felt confident this prince and his demons could defeat the almighty Daglan, then perhaps a mystic would be little more than a harmless pest to them. 

“Please…” the mystic began. “Please do not lead me to Hel.” Elain winced at the fearful tremble in the female’s voice, but she remained silent. “I cannot pass into your world,” the mystic confessed as they both sailed closer to the icy planet. “It was a lie that was fed to me by the Asteri—to sway you into granting me access to your mind. The wards will prevent my entry. We will be parted high in the atmosphere above your home. You must believe me…”

Elain frowned and shook her head. “I do not trust you. I cannot risk the collapse of my home based solely on your word.”

“I can tell you are kind…” the mystic said, with enough hope in her voice that Elain’s heart twinged. “Please do not bring me there… Please have mercy on me.”

“I’m not forcing you to follow me,” said Elain gently but distantly. “If you do not wish to journey to Hel along with me, then return home.” She couldn’t let empathy for the stranger sway her into altering her decision. She was already bracing herself for what she would have to do to escape her. 

“I cannot. If I abandon my mission, if I refuse, the punishment that awaits me at home is far worse than the torture I will endure in Hel.”

“I would never wish to cause you harm,” Elain said sincerely. “But I am left with no other choice. I will not compromise those I love.”

Resigned to her fate, the mystic spoke no more, though she began clawing savagely at Elain’s mental walls, shredding handfuls of the sleeping flower buds that were woven into the iron gates that shielded her mind. 

By the time Hel appeared as a tiny orb far off in the distance, Elain didn’t know how much more she could withstand. With her power taxed from traveling for so long, she had thrown all of her remaining energy into holding the gates shut and could feel her strength beginning to falter. 

As they traversed the remaining miles to Hel and descended into its icy depths, the metal gates that protected her mind began to creak, the bars straining against the mystic’s assault. 

Close. So close…

As long as Aidas was willing to help her, she would be okay. Metal groaned and Elain trembled, frantically pouring the last of her strength into holding her shield steady. With a jarring clang, one bony hand pried the gate open and shot inside. Beside herself with panic, Elain sent thick vines shooting out toward the infiltrator, wrapping around the female’s wrist and pushing with all her might until she was forced out completely. Elain slammed the iron door shut, but had little energy left to fortify the gates much longer. 

Her mind was racing as true fear flooded in. Nearly to the Chasm, Elain called out to Prince Aidas, crying out his name between shaky breaths until he appeared before her. “I beg of you…” she pleaded, grimacing with the effort it took to keep her mental shield from buckling. “Please help me.”

The demon prince’s gaze flicked from Elain to the female beside her, not understanding Elain’s words, but reading the terror in her eyes. After a single command from him, demons surrounded the female mystic. Without one lethal, clawed hand touching the female’s translucent skin, it was evident she was pinned in place, unable to move. 

And then her long, thin-framed body curled in on itself as she whimpered and clutched at her skull. Elain, still laboring to catch her breath, looked on in horror as the female began to scream—shrill, piercing screams, one after another, with heaving sobs between them.

“I’m sorry…” Elain told her, through the tears forming in her own eyes. She floated to the mystic’s side, the demons seeming to halt their attack as she drew closer. “I promise, Bryce will return to Midgard soon to free you,” she said, rubbing a hand along her back, sliding over the bumpy knobs of her spine. “One day soon, you will live your life as you choose… You will never need to serve them again.”

The mystic only gasped for breath before covering her eyes with her hands.

“I’m sorry,” Elain whispered again, feeling as if part of her chest was caving in. 

Though she meant every word, Elain knew her apology meant nothing. She could tell Prince Aidas to put an end to this. She could spare the female from this pain, but she wouldn’t. She had to protect her world, her family, and she would have to welcome this stain into her heart in order to do so.

Prince Aidas was suddenly beside her and she didn’t need to understand his language to know that he offered to go along with her, to guard her as she made her way back home.

“Thank you,” she told him, even as it destroyed her to leave the female behind. As they departed the Chasm and the tortured screams faded into silence, Elain knew the sounds of the female’s pain would haunt her every second of the journey home.

Two slender hands were suddenly clasping hers. Elain looked down to see her ghostlike fingers pass through nothing, but she could still feel the warmth of two slim hands interlaced with hers. She knew at once the sensation must belong to her body back home. As she was still able to hear muted voices from within the library, it made sense that she was able to feel the soft pressure of touch against her skin as well.

She could just barely hear the words of a prayer spoken in unison by Nuala and Cerridwen. Elain gripped their hands tighter, hoping they could feel it, hoping they knew she was thankful for the reassurance they granted her through their grounding touch and soothing words.

Nuala called out her name and Elain squeezed her hand in response.  

“Elain, can you hear me?” 

She gave Nuala’s hand another gentle squeeze.

“Praise the Mother! Elain, are you safe? Squeeze my hand once if you’re okay!”

One after another, her loved ones spoke to her from the library, encouraging and praising her, looking for confirmation that she was alright. The twins were first, then Nesta, followed by Feyre, Cassian, and Amren. Even Bryce wished to speak to her, to thank her, with Amren as her translator. 

And then one hand released hers and was replaced by a much larger, rougher hand that could only be Azriel’s. 

Azriel

Azriel found Elain’s hand beneath the frigid water. “She’s gone back to Hel,” he said as he folded his hand over hers. 

Cerridwen nodded. “She must have gone to Aidas for help.”

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief.  

She was okay… In the midst of her panic, she’d devised a clever solution to escape the female mystic. With the hushed whispers of the others around him, he could do nothing but gaze at Elain’s beautiful face. 

“You can speak to her,” Feyre said, still deep in concentration, lighting and warming the tub.

Azriel blinked, the only outward sign of his surprise. He looked down at Elain’s eyes, closed and peaceful, as if immersed in a tranquil dream. 

“Elain, it’s me,” he told her softly. “I’m here.”

Her grasp tightened and relaxed against his hand, and Azriel’s eyes flared in disbelief. He hadn’t expected her to truly hear him… Wouldn’t have thought she would have any control over her body from so far away. “Are you—” Azriel swallowed, struggling to remain composed. “Are you okay?”

Elain stroked her thumb in gentle circles over his. Azriel fought back the tears that threatened to well up from the corners of his eyes. 

Thank the gods…

“I won’t let go,” he promised her. “I’ll be waiting right here at your side, until you come back to me.” He caressed her hand softly. “You can do this, Elain… It’s going to be okay.” 

Azriel bowed his head and silently, desperately, he prayed. He prayed for her safety and her swift return. He prayed to the gods, to the Mother, to anyone who might hear his words, praising them and beseeching them to bless her journey home.

Come back to me, he pleaded silently. Come back to me, my love, and everything will be okay.

Elain

Passing through that infinite ocean of darkness, Elain let the hands holding hers become the tether that drew her back home, to the place she belonged. 

Her heart raced faster as her world appeared and grew ever-closer. Aidas separated from her when they reached the protective wards that shielded Velaris and she called her thanks after him graciously. 

With a sudden lurch, Elain was sitting upright in the tub, gasping for air as the glowing water sloshed around her. Azriel’s arms were there in an instant, pulling her from the water and holding her against his chest as he sat on the ledge of the tub. 

“It’s okay,” he told her, repeating the words over and over while hugging her dripping, shivering form tightly against him. She closed her eyes, wishing to block out everything but the comfort of his body against hers. 

The darkened faelights brightened to a dim glimmer and everyone gathered around her, touching her, speaking to her all at once. She needed to calm herself, needed space to breathe and settle her racing heart. Rhys quickly used his power to dry the saltwater that covered both Elain and Azriel while Nuala wrapped the soft, light blue blanket around her, diligently tucking it in around her. The fabric was unnaturally warm against her clammy skin, as if Rhys had just heated it with his magic. 

“Are you hurt?” Azriel asked between deep breaths. 

“No,” she replied weakly. She tried to fend off the memories from Hel, the image of the mystic’s face as she cried out in the throes of her suffering. 

The cold and despair clung to her as if it had burrowed deep in her bones, but Elain was warming quickly, the heat of Azriel’s body and the plush blanket chasing away the chill that had settled into her skin. Surrounded by Azriel’s strong arms and familiar scent, she was exactly where she needed to be. 

Home… 

She was home. 

Azriel

Azriel held Elain against his body, letting her scent wash over him, ducking his head to press his cheek against her forehead. His desperate prayers had been answered. 

“You went back to Hel,” Rhys said, and Elain nodded, her face still pressed against Azriel’s chest. 

“Aidas helped me.”

“Will you show me?”

“No,” Elain said distantly. “Not now.”

Bryce told her thank you over and over—two of a handful of words she’d managed to learn over the past few days.

His eye caught on the shadow he’d lent Elain as it flitted about in a panic. Azriel swatted it away, not wanting the chill of its touch near Elain while she was still fighting off the cold.

He lowered Elain onto his lap, letting her legs drape down so he could better fold his arms around her. His eyes shuttered as he stroked her back. He didn’t care who was watching, didn’t care what they thought. 

The peaceful moment was interrupted as Rhys asked, “Is there anything that we need to know immediately?” 

Azriel couldn’t stop the low, threatening growl that made its way out from deep in his chest.

“No, nothing,” Elain answered, her voice tremulous. “There’s nothing.”

Gods, what had happened to leave her in this state? It wasn’t fear that laced her scent, it was sorrow.

Elain shifted her body, turning inward toward him as if she wanted to hide her face from all those who gathered around them. Azriel wrapped his wings around her protectively, shielding her from view. She sighed against his neck, her arms encircling him.

Azriel looked up with sharp hazel eyes. “Get out,” he commanded. “All of you, leave the library.” When Elain was ready, he would send for them with his shadows, but he knew she yearned for space and quiet, yet wouldn’t ask for it herself. 

Azriel let his eyes fall shut again as he breathed in her scent. She was okay. It would all be okay. 

He knew Elain well enough to realize she would consider everyone else’s feelings before her own, deeming their desire to be close to her as more important than her own need for privacy. She would detest the thought of so many people witnessing her vulnerability, but wouldn’t want to disappoint them by asking them to leave while she pieced herself back together. 

So Azriel had given the order. Because he didn’t care if they were offended or disappointed or angry with him. Elain had braved the unknown and put herself through this torment for all of them, for the well-being of two worlds, and he would give her anything she needed to settle the storm inside her. 

To his aggravation, the low sound of mumbling voices still surrounded them. “I told you to leave,” Azriel said without opening his eyes, his low voice terrifyingly calm. “Now.”  

No one spoke another word. As the sound of footsteps faded off into the distance, and with Azriel’s hand moving continuously up and down her back, Elain’s shallow breaths became deeper, more controlled.

“That’s it,” he told her, murmuring the words into her hair. “Just breathe.” Elain nodded, holding him closer.

Despite his immovable, frigid exterior and the cruelty promised by his seven siphons and the shadows that trailed him like a dark curse, Elain was embracing him as if he possessed some abundant wellspring of peace and warmth at the heart of him. At one time, he would’ve believed himself to be too flawed, too damaged to be the one to give her what she needed, but he saw it now—for reasons he might never understand, she found something she wanted, something she cherished within him. 

“What do you need, Elain?” he asked softly, his wings still encircling her. “I’ll do anything you need, anything you ask.”

“Don’t let go,” she said. “Stay like this… for a little while.” 

“I’ll hold you,” he promised as his heart cracked open wide. “For as long as you want, for as long as you’ll let me.”

Azriel exhaled a shaky breath. He needed this, too. 

When the connection to Elain was severed, something inside him had broken along with it. His own anguish had been an inconvenience—a liability he’d had to smother so that he could lend his strength to her. But perhaps she could read the stiffness in his posture, because her fingers began trailing up and down along his back. 

With a shudder, Azriel sighed and allowed himself to relax against her, clinging to her like she was a dream he feared would slip away. 

After all she’d been through, she still had the strength and willingness to attend to the frayed, ragged pieces of himself that he so often neglected. 

She kept a careful distance from his wings, enough that he didn’t need to worry over whether her fingers might graze them, and while her touch held that same soft and lovely tenderness that always emanated from her, her hands against him were steady—soothing him, grounding him enough that he could lower his guard and lose himself to the feel of it. With each gentle caress, he was melting. 

Azriel drew in another deep breath. 

Elain was okay. 

She was home and this terrifying ordeal was over. Everything was okay… Peace filtered in through his skin and began to settle into his heart.

Azriel didn’t know whether it had been a minute or an eternity that they sat together, finding solace in each other’s arms. He would’ve held her for hours if she’d allowed it. He would’ve collected each cushion from the library’s sofas and arranged them before one of the fireplaces. Covered in the warm blanket, he would’ve held her there until morning… 

“Thank you, Azriel,” Elain whispered, as if anything louder would’ve dissolved the calm quiet that surrounded them. “I’m okay.”

Just as softly, he asked, “Would you like me to call the others back?” 

“No,” she said, burying her face into the crook of his neck, “I’d like a bath. A normal bath… at home. I can still feel the salt on my skin.”

“I’ll take you home.” Shadows swirled around them as he slipped his arm beneath her knees and stood with her cradled against him. A moment later they appeared in Elain’s sitting room.

“Can you send for Nuala and Cerridwen?” she asked, shifting in his arms as if she wished to stand on her own two feet. 

Ignoring the pang of dissent that jolted through him, Azriel gently helped her down before nodding and silently sending two shadows off to summon the twins. It shouldn't have surprised him. He understood why she would want the pair of sisters with her—of course he understood… The two females were her closest friends and had been by her side through each joy and sorrow ever since she’d been Made. Even when he hadn’t been. The twins had been there to comfort Elain when he had been the source of her pain—a realization that made his whole chest ache. He had no right to feel the way he did, but he couldn’t quiet the part of himself that revolted at the thought of being separated from her. 

Two swirling orbs of smoky darkness flew straight through the door to the front antechamber and Cerridwen and Nuala materialized in the foyer, running to Elain and throwing their arms around her.

His discontent eased at the sight of the three females as they embraced. The twins readily began offering their help to Elain and Azriel knew he should go so Elain could bathe, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave for his apartment. Not yet.

“I’ll bring you something to eat,” he told Elain. “I could bring back the soup you like from Oridian’s or a pastry from Zirella’s. Anything you like.”

“I don’t have much of an appetite,” she said, shaking her head apologetically. 

“I’ll make tea,” he said plainly, turning toward the kitchen. 

“Azriel, we’ve got it from here,” Cerridwen insisted, smiling. “You don’t have to worry. She’s our best friend—we’ll take good care of her.”

“She’s—” The half-formed retort rose up from within him, but Azriel wasn’t sure what he’d been about to say. There wasn’t a word he could use to define what she was to him, and he hated it. He wasn’t her mate or lover or anything else that would take precedence over her two best friends. Azriel reined in his feelings before his wings could rustle in dismay. “I’m fully capable of helping her as well.”

Elain ran her hand down his forearm until their fingers met and intertwined. “You’ve already helped more than you realize, Azriel. I’ll be okay here with Nuala and Cerridwen.”

“I would wait down here while you bathe,” he offered, hiding his need behind an expressionless mask. 

“It’s late,” she said, stroking the palm of his hand.  “You've been spread so thin and who knows what tomorrow will bring. Wouldn’t you like to get some rest?” 

His body protested at the dismissal, kind and considerate as it was. She wasn’t wrong. He’d been overtaxed ever since the arrival of the foreign princess, and it wasn’t as if he could’ve possibly expected to stay and help with her bath, to unbraid and wash her hair as she soaked in the tub, but… “I’ll return in an hour, if that’s okay.”

Elain nodded before softly saying, “Thank you, Azriel.”

Nuala and Cerridwen diverted their gazes and wrapped themselves in shadows, granting him some illusion of privacy. Az didn’t know how he could convey what he was hoping for, but Elain must’ve understood because she closed the space between them and wrapped both arms around his lower back, just beneath his wings. 

Azriel held her, hoping enough of her scent had sunken into his skin to stay with him for the hour they’d spend apart. He savored every second of this closeness between them, dreading the moment she would step back from him and he would return to his apartment without her.

She wasn’t his. But she was whole and safe and home. He gave his deepest thanks to the Mother for this blessing. 

Chapter Text

Elain 

Elain had already scrubbed her skin and washed her hair, yet she continued to sit, unmoving, reclined against the sloped back wall of the bathtub. 

I’m okay… I’m safe. 

Regardless of what she told herself, stepping out of the tub still felt like an impossible task. The bathwater was so hot it would likely leave her skin pink and tender when she emerged, and she wished to remain here in this warmth. She didn’t want to shiver—didn’t want to feel the cold again. 

It’s over, she reminded herself, breathing in the calming scent of lavender soap that filled the steamy air. The cold of the air will not be the cold of space, the cold of Hel… 

Elain’s long, deep breaths did little to soothe any part inside her, and it seemed as if the mystic’s projection had shifted into a phantom that drifted through the corridors of her mind. When she closed her eyes, when she stared at nothing, Elain saw her—the female whose frail, emaciated body curled in on itself as she screamed in agony. Over an hour later, her piercing cries still resounded in Elain’s head, replaying over and over. 

Guilt prodded her, nipping away at her insides. The mystic was an innocent, sold into her situation for being born with a power that was not so different from Elain’s own. But this female was made to suffer for it, was starved and deprived of all the joys and freedoms of a normal life.

And because of Elain, she was tortured by the merciless demons of Hel, her mind seized and turned against her. It was a violation and cruel punishment for her attempt to intrude past Elain’s mental gates. The female was given no say in her actions; had been forced to do this against her own will.  

Sympathetic as she was to the mystic, Elain had been terrified when the female appeared beside her… had almost lost herself to panic when the mystic had nearly clawed her way into her mind. 

Despite the hot water that enveloped her, Elain shivered. It felt as if the fear that had gripped her so thoroughly was still running loose inside her, rippling through her body and trying to find its way out. 

At the slightest touch of soft fingers against the gates of her mind, Elain gasped, her hands scrambling, clutching at the cool porcelain sides of the bathtub. 

Elain? 

Feyre’s voice. Not the mystic’s.

Yes? she replied, voice high and flimsy as she gulped down a mouthful of air.

Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you… Nesta and I would like to see you but I wanted to ask if you were ready first. 

Sure, Elain said quickly, steadying herself. Yes, I’m fine. I’m in the bath but I’ll be out in a few minutes.

Can we bring you anything?

I don’t need anything.

A pause and then, We’ll be right over.

Elain sunk back down into the water, her heart still stamping out a rapid beat that pounded loudly in her ears. She felt as tangled up as dense, knotted roots in a tiny pot. And that was even before she considered Azriel…

She’d dedicated so much time to burying her unrelenting thoughts of him; spent so many days trying to drown her hopes for a future with him. She’d hurt and grieved, fought her heart and shamed herself for feelings that wouldn’t subside no matter how much she willed them to.  

Thoughts of you consume me, he’d told her, and Elain could still hear the conviction in his deep, soft voice as he’d spoken the words. You are everything to me… 

He’d kissed her as if he’d been starved of her. He’d held her and made the vicious, hard edges of the world melt away. 

Grudgingly, Elain extracted herself from the warm water and dried her damp skin with a fluffy, white towel. The goosebumps that covered her skin felt like a threat. The cold air seemed as if it might swallow her up and never let her go.

Stop that. You’re fine. You’re just fine. 

She could hear the subdued hum of voices from the living room one floor below as she slipped into a casual dress of crisp, pine-green muslin. Elain’s skin craved the soft silk of her nightdress and the warmth of her heaviest robe. But she needed to at least look composed and presentable. She added a pair of simple gold earrings and a necklace for good measure. 

Her stomach tightened at the thought of facing her sisters after all of this. She couldn’t bear to see their eyes scanning hers with pity, judging her as the weak and delicate flower they’d always considered her to be. She was certain Feyre hadn’t wept in the tub after she’d nearly drowned retrieving the Book of Breathings, and she knew Nesta hadn’t returned from the Bog of Oorid shaking and clinging to a male for comfort.   

Elain arranged the loose, wet waves of her hair before a large, oval mirror that was bordered in bronze with intricately embossed vines of moonflower. 

She studied her own face. While both of her sisters had been born with an iron will and fierce spirit, Elain had inherited her father’s soft heart. And she’d seen where it had led him—confined to his chair, heartbroken and despondent, whittling wooden figures while his children starved. 

Elain crept down the stairs silently, the action now automatic after so much practice with Nuala and Cerridwen. But silencing her movements wasn’t the same as being invisible. There was no hiding when she reached the bottom of the staircase and walked into plain sight before Nesta and Feyre, who awaited her in the sitting room. Nuala and Cerridwen were nowhere to be seen, but she could hear their whispery voices and the gentle clattering of spoons and mixing bowls coming from the kitchen.

Her sisters’ faces were taut with worry as they turned their heads toward her in unison.

“I’m fine,” Elain said, taking a seat in an armchair and gazing toward the floor. 

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Feyre said from the middle of the long sofa opposite Elain. “What you did today—what you went through would’ve been terrifying.”

Eyes still tracing the intricate patterns that were woven through the rug, Elain replied, “I made it back. I’m unharmed. I did what was needed.” 

“I’m proud of you, Elain,” her younger sister said, eyes full of warmth.

Elain’s gaze flicked up for a second as she offered a half-hearted smile. Feyre’s kind words should’ve brought her peace, but they only made her gut twist. Elain had done nothing worth commending. Not when she’d returned as a teary-eyed, quivering mess. She knew both Feyre and Nesta would’ve found some way to escape the mystic without running to anyone else for help. They would’ve fought back and saved themselves. Elain was nothing more than a female who’d been granted a rare gift which would’ve been better off in the hands of someone else—someone worthy of that power.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Feyre asked. 

“I’d prefer not to,” Elain said, guardedly. 

Nesta was unusually silent as she sat in the armchair beside her, tension emanating from her rigid form. Elain wasn’t surprised. Few things could ruffle Nesta more than knowing Elain was upset or put in harm’s way. 

She looked back to her younger sister. “Did Nyx fall asleep at a reasonable hour for Mor?” 

Feyre gave an amused smile. “She didn’t say and I knew better than to ask.” 

Elain’s cheeks twitched. She knew from her own experience that her nephew resisted bedtime for as long as he possibly could, as if he couldn’t stand to let himself sleep while the rest of his family was still awake. “Hopefully he’ll sleep through the night tonight, so you and Rhys can get some rest.”

“I hope so, too,” Feyre said glumly. “This past week has been terrible. He was sleeping so well, and I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

Nesta and Elain sympathized with their sister, and they beamed to hear of Nyx’s delighted reactions to some of his newest favorite things—the way he would go still and wide eyed when Feyre quickly raised and lowered the brightness of the faelights, and how he would babble and kick his chubby legs when he saw the musicians playing in the city streets. 

And then Elain had gotten Nesta talking about the Illyrian females who had recently begun training with the Valkyries. According to her sister, there was a small group of strong-willed females who’d shown no hesitation when taking Nesta and Emerie’s invitation to begin working with the female fighting unit, and Nesta was hopeful that others would soon be inspired to follow suit.

“It’s been a long day and I’m sure you’re ready to have some time to yourself,” Feyre said knowingly. 

Elain nodded. “Thank you both for the visit.”

Then, as if Nesta had reached the conclusion of some internal debate, she suddenly stated, “It’s too soon for them to demand anything more from you.” Her face was unyielding. “When the time comes, I’ll use the Harp in your place.”

Elain shook her head. “I saw the vision,” she said plainly. “It has to be me.”

“Elain—”

“Today didn’t turn out the way I imagined, but I’ll be okay,” she said gently.

From the uncompromising look that lingered on Nesta’s face, Elain knew she didn’t intend to concede on the matter so easily.

“Get some rest, Elain,” Feyre told her. “Let us know if you need anything.”

“I will.”

She wouldn’t. 

It hadn’t been that way between them in a long time…

But when she felt both of her sisters wrap their arms around her, Elain could feel the connection that still bound the three of them, neglected and worn thin, but unbroken.

After Feyre had grasped Nesta’s hand and winnowed the two of them away, Elain took a moment to collect herself. Once she’d cleared the feeling that lingered, she set off down the hall to see what Nuala and Cerridwen had been working on while she’d spoken with her sisters in the sitting room.

“We made waffles so you could reheat them in the morning,” Cerridwen said as Elain entered the kitchen. Both sisters were at the sink washing and drying glinting steel bowls and measuring cups. 

“Thank you…” Elain said quietly, lost for words and touched by their thoughtfulness.

“How are you feeling?” Nuala asked, drying her hands on a dish towel and glancing toward her.

Elain gave a listless shrug. 

“It’s okay if you need to let it all out. And it’s okay if you’d rather not.” Nuala took a seat at one of the wooden stools around the long workable, with Elain and Cerridwen promptly taking the two seats beside her. 

Elain had already spoken to them of the kiss she’d shared with Azriel. She’d been left without any chance of avoiding that conversation when the twins returned from the Palace of Thread and Jewels to find her alone in the antechamber and surrounded by the scent of what had happened there just minutes before. And they’d been there to witness what occurred between her and Azriel after he’d pulled her from the tub upon her return from Hel. 

But no one in this world knew what went on out in the galaxy after she’d expelled Rhys from her mind, and it felt like a transgression to share the weight of it when it should be hers alone to bear. 

Azriel

Azriel stood before his writing desk, roughly flipping through a stack of papers before reshuffling them. His gaze snapped over to the clock once more. The time was not passing fast enough, and he couldn’t think of anything but his need to return to Elain and fill the empty cavern in his chest. With each minute away from her, he could feel another piece of his composure crumbling away. 

He could be holding her; he could be helping her. 

The same images flashed through his mind again—the moment the window to Elain’s mind had gone black, the way she shivered in his arms when she awakened, and a hundred different scenarios he’d imagined to fill the missing time between. 

He needed to know what had been done to her, and exactly who was responsible. 

He wanted retribution. For Elain. For each horror-stricken tremble of her limbs as he’d pulled her from the tub, for every tear that had fallen from her eyes, for every gods-damned second of sleep she would lose over this. 

Despite the pleasure he’d take in drawing it out, stretching this punishment into hours of agony for those beneath the blade of his knife, Azriel knew his fury had grown far too much to be contained.  For Elain, he would destroy whoever was responsible for her suffering and leave the mangled, bloody pieces behind like a worthless pile of refuse. 

Adrenaline sharpened his every sense. He clenched his fists, his hands restless without a dagger in his grip or a target for his vengeance. 

Had the Daglan been searching for Elain long before she’d left the planet? Were they hunting her now?  

Azriel’s racing stream of thought was broken when he felt the familiar scratch of Rhys’s talons along the walls that encircled his mind. He braced his mental shields, fusing them shut before he thought better of it. What if Elain was in danger… what if intruders from Midgard had been dispatched to track her down? Anxiously, he cracked the gates open. 

Azriel, I’d like to speak with you. I owe you an apology. 

Az stiffened. With cold, razor-edged formality, he uttered his reply; Find out if Bryce was aware Elain could be targeted by Midgard’s mystics. If the female knew, tell her she would be wise to leave this planet before I cross paths with her again. 

And with that, he bolted the gates shut. 

There it was—an offer for a long overdue apology from his High Lord… So it had taken what he’d witnessed in the library for Rhys to finally believe that his intentions with Elain weren’t lecherous and self-serving. His brother’s remorse made no difference. Az could only feel a bitter rage roaring through him like an icy wind. It was too late and there was nothing Rhys could say that would make a difference now. 

Azriel’s sharp, hazel eyes found the clock again. He would be three minutes too early if he left now, but he couldn’t bring himself to wait any longer than he already had. With anticipation eddying through him, he allowed the darkness to deliver him to Elain’s front porch.

A careful twist of the brass doorknob and he let himself into the antechamber to knock against the interior door. 

It was Cerridwen who answered, her face drawn and apologetic. “Azriel, I’m sorry but you can’t see her right now.”

Azriel’s tense wings flinched. Perhaps Elain needed more time to relax in the tub. “I’ll wait on the roof until she’s ready.”

“I mean you can’t see her at all. Not yet. Not tonight.”

Azriel felt his anger rising like a vicious wave inside him. In a voice that was frighteningly calm, he asked, “Did Rhys command you to keep me away from her?”

Cerridwen’s dark brows creased. “No, Rhys has given us no such command. Elain is taking no more visitors tonight.”

Azriel shook his head impatiently, knowing there must be some mistake. “I promised to return to see her,” he said. “No more than an hour ago. She wanted me to return after her bath.”

“What happened during her voyage was… deeply unsettling. It has taken a toll on her.”

So Cerridwen knew… 

Azriel’s expression hardened further. “Tell me what happened to her.”

“I will not be the one to tell you that,” Cerridwen said fixedly. “Be patient with her, Azriel. She needs to rest.”

Azriel clenched his jaw before flatly stating, “I’ll be on the roof.” He could think of at least a dozen reasons Elain wouldn’t want to see him and he would respect her wishes. But he couldn’t leave. He promised he would return, so he would stay. 

Cerridwen met his eyes with a sort of softness that rarely crossed her face. “You can’t stay on her roof.”

Something ugly inside him reared its head at the  order. He swallowed it down as Cerridwen continued, “My sister and I are about to leave so Elain can rest for the night. It would be wise for all of us to give her space until she asks us to return.” 

Azriel could only try and purge the anger and pain from his eyes as he sternly vowed, “I won’t seek her out. I promise you, she will not notice my presence.”

He wouldn’t dare disturb her, but he couldn’t force himself to leave. And he couldn’t explain why he felt this way, couldn’t rationalize it. 

Elain was suddenly in the foyer, with Nuala following closely behind her. He’d been so preoccupied with his own feelings, he hadn’t sensed their approach. 

“Come in, Azriel,” Elain told him, meeting his gaze with weary eyes. 

She’d certainly overheard the conversation, along with his embarrassing refusal to leave. Shame flooded him. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to trouble you.”

Elain’s eyes rounded with concern. “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she told him sincerely. Her attention shifted to the twins as she pulled each of them into a tight hug. “Thank you for everything,” she said to the two half-wraiths as she released Cerridwen from her arms. “I’ll let you know about tomorrow.”

The three said their goodbyes and once the pair of sisters vanished into orbs of dark smoke and floated through the door, Elain turned toward him.

“Sit with me,” she said, leading him into the living room.

“I can go,” he offered gently as he followed after her. “I’m sure you need to rest.”

“Not yet.”

Azriel shook his head as he sat beside her on the sofa. “I don’t want you to worry about me.” He stopped himself from covering her hand with his, unsure whether she would still welcome his touch. “I’m alright.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Her keen eyes assessed his face. “You know I can tell.” 

He brushed away the small shock that jolted through him at her words. “All that matters right now is that you get the peace and rest you need tonight.”

She looked up at him with her calm, patient face. “What you need matters, too, Azriel.” 

He opened his mouth to disagree, but before he could insist that he wouldn’t take up any more of her night, she softened her voice to a near-whisper as she told him, “You know I never pry or persuade you to talk about anything you don’t want to, but I won’t be able to sleep until I know you’re okay.”

Words escaped him. He sat, unable to do little more than stare at the floor and calculate what his next move would be. He refused to let himself be the reason she would lose sleep tonight, but he couldn’t possibly burden her with his own trivial concerns after all she’d been through. 

Her warm hand found his lower back as she began to rub soothing circles against his armored jacket. “What do you need, Azriel?”

He was wasting her time. And worse, he was adding to her distress, giving her cause to worry about him, which was exactly the opposite of what he’d come here to do. The longer he stayed, the longer he would continue to inconvenience her. “Elain, I only wanted to help you, to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m okay,” she assured him. “It might… take a while. To feel normal again. To feel safe. But I’m doing as well as I can after what happened today.”

She felt unsafe… He couldn’t have that. “What would it take to make you feel safe again?” He felt a spark of hope that she might ask him to stay and monitor the building while she slept. She might send him to hunt down whoever had directed the mystic to pursue her. Or give him anything to do other than pace around his apartment, aching to be near her.

Instead, she simply said, “Time.”

Azriel swallowed. “Would it help if I stayed to watch over the house tonight?” he tried.

She smiled sweetly. “There’s nothing else that can be done to help me tonight.”

There was, though. He could stand guard for her. He could protect her. But despite the fear she had just admitted to, she didn’t want that from him. She wanted him to go.

Elain pulled back, just enough to look deep into his eyes. “That upsets you.”

Azriel pulled his wings in tighter. “Elain, I’ve already taken up enough of your time. I didn’t mean to impose upon you, and it guilts me to think I’ve worried you. All I wanted was to help you. If I can help you most by leaving, then I can do that, too. I don’t want you to worry about me.”

She didn’t say a word, only resumed caressing his back as shadows whirled around him. Azriel didn’t know what to make of her silence, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything that would bring an end to the calming way she touched his body. 

Was this something she needed? Was she waiting for something from him? Guilt twined through him as it suddenly made sense. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t go after you,” he finally said, his voice low and toneless. “I failed you. I broke my promise to you.” He couldn’t blame her for not wanting him to return after that. For not trusting him enough to accept his protection.

“Azriel…” she whispered softly, sorrow in her eyes. “None of that is true.” 

His insides were churning, protesting the release of a confession he should’ve kept to himself. 

“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” she said. “If you’d gone after me and I’d returned to find you missing, it would’ve been worse than anything that happened out there. You said you would come for me if I needed you, but I didn’t need anyone to save me this time. You were exactly where I needed you.”

In a voice that was deep with regret, he said, “I should’ve stopped this from happening.”

“No,” Elain insisted. “There was no stopping it.”

His arm settled around her, tucking her in against him. Her hand found his chest while the other continued tracing comforting circles over his lower back. Az knew he should pull himself together and get out of her way. It was selfish to continue consuming her attention. But right now—her hands… the way her hands moved against him… the way it made him feel… 

Azriel closed his eyes. Every thundering voice inside him, his fears and restlessness, his whispering shadows, his anger at Rhys and the demands of his work… it all quieted until it was replaced with a calm, beautiful silence. 

Without warning, Elain’s hand paused in its trail along his back and she settled into an unnatural stillness. Azriel kept her wrapped in his embrace until her eyes fluttered open. 

“A shining strand of light in the dark,” she murmured distantly. “Like a golden tightrope strung through an empty night sky.”

“A good omen?” he asked, gently swirling his fingertips over the side of her waist.

“I believe so.”

Azriel shifted his wings. “Elain, forgive me, but I can’t stand to leave you like this. I can’t leave you unprotected.”

Elain blinked self-consciously. “I know that there are many things we need to discuss, and so much is weighing on me as it is. Tonight, I need some time alone. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you here—I do. But Azriel…” Her gaze strayed to his lips before darting toward a vase of flowers on the low table before them. “I don’t think we should be alone together tonight…”

Azriel shook his head solemnly. “I would never—”

“I would.” 

He couldn’t stop the fiery surge of need that swept through him at the mere thought of it… of Elain wanting him; of her being tempted by him… He would’ve never initiated anything with her while she was in such a state, but if she sought comfort from his body, he knew he would give her anything she asked of him. 

“I don’t want it to be like that…” she said softly as his mind continued spinning. “With me not thinking clearly. As an escape from what just happened. But if you need to stay, I want you to stay. I could ask Nuala and Cerridwen to return so they could ensure we weren’t left alone. We could figure something out.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her, gathering his composure. “I’ll go. I should go…” He ran his fingers through his dark hair. “I’m sorry, again, for taking up your night.”

“Azriel…” she said, reaching out until she was cupping his cheek. “Please don’t apologize… The way you feel is not a burden to me.” 

Staring back into her perfect eyes, Azriel felt his armor slipping away. And then she was leaning in, and suddenly her lips were sliding gently over his, and he couldn’t stop from capturing her luscious bottom lip as he greedily tasted her again. 

Her scent… her lips… He wanted her too much. He had to leave. Now. Before this went any further. 

Fighting against the heightening need inside him, he asked, “Can you send me a letter when you’d like me to return?”

Their mouths met again and Elain nodded as she deepened the kiss. Azriel laced his fingers into her hair and dipped his tongue into her sweet mouth. 

This female… Mother above, he loved her…

With Elain’s hands caressing him, sliding down his chest, her lips parted from his just enough to breathe the words, “Goodnight Azriel.”

He brushed a soft kiss against her lips, one last time… “Goodnight Elain.”

Azriel disappeared into darkness, spearing straight to his apartment before his restraint could collapse entirely. Alone in his bedroom, with Elain’s honeyed scent still clinging to him, Azriel felt like a meteor, barreling through the galaxy and unable to take control of his path. 

There was no way of knowing whether he would burn to pieces in her atmosphere or land safely in her arms.

Chapter Text

Azriel

Two days had passed without an invitation from Elain, and Azriel was slowly and steadily drifting into a state of near-constant rumination. Sleep was impossible, and his racing thoughts had turned vicious and unending.

He’d passed the time by keeping up with the demands of his work, which had increased exponentially ever since the arrival of the world-walker. But even complex assignments and long hours hadn’t been enough to divert his mind for long. 

Kissing Elain, feeling her arms around him had felt like lying on a sunlit shore after months of struggling against a raging current. After all they’d shared, the distance made him feel as if he’d been cast back out into that frigid, merciless sea. With everything inside him, he wished to return to her. Every beat of his heart called out to her. But she had closed herself off to him and with every hour, he felt her slipping further away. He was terrified for her—that what she’d been through had sent her back into the despondent state she’d entered after she’d been Made. 

Suddenly, Rhys’s talons were sliding along the walls of his mind. Searing rage rushed through him like venom in his veins. 

Azriel threw his strength into the frosted stone fortress that guarded his deepest thoughts. He met Rhys’s gentle scrape against them with his own icy silence, just as he had with each of the many times his brother had tried to contact him over the past few days.

It wasn’t that Azriel understood nothing of the complexities surrounding the bond between Lucien and Elain—the dangers, the tenuous alliances that hinged upon it. He’d studied and analyzed the situation from every possible angle imaginable. He was well aware of the risks involved—all reasons he had distanced himself from Elain in the first place. He had been angry at Rhys for forcing him away from Elain that night, but he knew why he’d done it. 

What enraged him was the implication that Azriel didn’t care for Elain past the desire for one night with her, that he would ever use Elain, would find pleasure in her body and discard her as if he thought of her as some nameless whore. His own brother hadn’t even considered his love for her as a possibility. 

Perhaps he believed Azriel to be so damaged he was incapable of it. Or he thought it impossible that Elain would ever want anything to do with him—with a male that was ruined and menacing, withdrawn and peculiar… The thought of it stung him deeply.

If Rhys had met him with anything but disgust and accusations—if he’d so much as offered him a chance to explain himself, he would’ve admitted how he felt. 

He’d tried… He’d shared an intimate secret with his brother—had confessed to his conviction that the Cauldron had made a mistake in pairing Elain and Lucien. He could think of no other explanation for the depth and intensity of the connection that existed between himself and Elain. He couldn’t fathom how destiny would trap Elain with such an ill-suited match when she fit with him so perfectly. 

But Rhys had only twisted his words and thrown them back at him, reacting as if Azriel had implied he was entitled to Elain, when his brother should have known that Azriel fought cruel and constant battles against himself to feel deserving of anything. 

He could still hear the contempt in Rhys’s voice as he’d told him, If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her. The words cut into Azriel and reawakened a cold, vicious anger that slept in the deepest trenches of him.

He needed to know what had happened to Elain, but he refused to go to Rhys for answers. It was possible Cassian had heard something by now. Unlike Nuala and Cerridwen, Cassian would tell him whatever he knew. At this hour, he would be with Mor and Nesta, training the priestesses and a group of Illyrian females at a camp in the Illyrian Mountains. 

Azriel opted to fly, using the journey as a means of burning off some of the restless energy that buzzed along his bones. 

Lost in thought, the time passed quickly and he soon descended upon Illyria, scoping out the group’s location and beginning his descent. From the corner of his eye, Azriel tracked the movement of hands that waved to him from the ground below, Nesta and Mor surely among them, but Azriel couldn’t bring himself to look at them, to smile or wave or force his face into anything but a hardened, empty scowl. 

Az landed within feet of Cassian, his back to the others. “I need to speak with you privately.”

His brother shot a quick glance at Mor, who was currently leading the females through an exercise. 

“Go,” she told him with an air of relaxed confidence. “Nesta and I can take it from here.”

Cassian turned to Azriel. “My place?”

Az nodded and clasped Cassian’s shoulder as he winnowed them to the modest residence Cassian kept in the mountains nearby. A fire sprang to life the moment they entered the space. It was cozy, warm, yet unadorned—a place to serve a purpose more than any sort of home. 

They both sat in dark leather armchairs across from a fireplace that lighted itself upon their appearance. 

“What happened to Elain?” Azriel asked tonelessly, crossing his arms across his chest. “I’m certain you know something.”

Cassian paused, as if considering a strategy for his response. “She led the mystic to Hel and turned her over to Aidas.” Azriel had guessed this much. When he remained silent, Cassian continued, “The demons tortured the female so Elain could escape; it was some sort of attack on her mind… Rhys said it was brutal. He said Elain blames herself for it. The mystic was enslaved because she has powers just like Elain’s—she feels guilty for putting the girl through that.”

Azriel felt as if a lead weight had fallen into the pit of his stomach. Of course Elain would’ve been tormented by her role in this, especially after what she’d been through. The demons’ attack on the mystic was too similar to the pain she’d suffered while trapped in the black waters of the Cauldron, when she was torn apart and Made anew; too close to the agony she endured when she believed her own mind had turned against her. 

He needed to hold her, to do anything he could to soothe away her pain.

And then a blunt realization crashed into him. Azriel himself was just as cruel and merciless as the demons from Hel. It was no surprise Elain couldn’t bear to be near him now… 

His brother looked at him with heaviness in his eyes. “You and Elain… I didn’t know.”

Azriel gave him a curt nod. “I’ll see you around.”

Cassian didn’t acknowledge the dismissal, just quietly asked, “How long?”

Azriel’s insides recoiled from the question that was too personal, too intrusive. He turned his head and cast his gaze toward the hearth, watching the flickering flames. “Two years.” 

A look of devastation flashed across Cassian’s face. Despite the many times he’d had Cassian pummel him in the evenings to work out the feelings that clawed away at his insides, he’d never pieced it together. 

“I’m sorry, Az.”   

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Azriel said blankly, eyes still aimed at the fire. His brother was not at fault. Not when Azriel had been purposely hiding his feelings from his family. 

“You wanna go for a round?” Cassian offered, certainly aware that the only semblance of peace Azriel found these days was working himself to exhaustion in the training ring. He was relieved Cassian hadn’t questioned him further, as he surely didn’t intend on discussing it past what he’d already disclosed. 

Before Az could reply, he felt the cool brush of a shadow against his hand. It was the shadow that watched over Elain, but it wasn’t crying out for help this time. It simply dropped a slip of paper into his hand and disappeared. 

Elain’s elegant cursive stretched across it. 

Will you meet me in the garden?

The invitation sent his heart racing. “I have to go.”

“Alright, but if you—”

Azriel didn’t hear the end of Cassian’s sentence because he was already gone, swallowed up by darkness, his path set and his thoughts swarming.

Stepping free of a dark flurry of shadows, he stood beside the large fountain in the town house’s back garden. Elain was nowhere in sight. Of course she wasn’t… He felt foolish as he realized she’d sent the note from the writing desk in her bedroom and would still be making her way outside.

Azriel’s mouth went dry. He didn’t know what version of Elain would come to greet him. It would crush his heart to see her as numb and hopeless as she’d once been, and he would be equally destroyed if she met him with disdain. 

He didn’t want to hear her explain that what happened between them meant nothing, that the kiss that shifted the axis of his entire world was something she regretted. He couldn’t stand the thought that he’d been little more than the closest warm body when she returned from Hel, and the way she’d sought shelter in his arms had been a need for any form of comfort, not a need for him. 

Azriel knew that he was about to expose his most vulnerable thoughts to her, and she could very well listen to them and crush his heart in return. 

He’d hurt her and abandoned her when she needed him. He’d overwhelmed her. He hadn’t spared her from the horrors that found her so far out in the galaxy after he’d promised to protect her. He’d fucked this up so many times he didn’t know how she would possibly forgive him after all of it. And he knew himself well enough to realize that he would be forever lost and broken if she didn’t. 

His throat constricted and his shadows edged in closer, cooling him as they flitted over his skin and armor. Azriel had stepped onto battlefields with more confidence and composure. 

He saw her then, quietly slipping through the back door, wearing a lovely dress of burgundy cotton. 

He took long, hurried strides toward her, assessing her posture, her face, unable to read past the veil of calm over her eyes.

Elain

Elain stepped out into the garden, greeted by the perfume of flowers carried on a soft breeze. The sky was clouded, filled with large, tufted islands of white and silver separated by cracks of blue between them. 

Azriel was there before her. His expression was entirely blank, but Elain could see the tension in his shoulders, the uncertainty that quavered in his gaze.

He didn’t speak a word, only watched her as if searching for some evidence of her mood, of how this conversation might go. And Elain began to wonder if the hesitance in his eyes masked fear—fear of heartbreak, of what she might say to him.

Without another thought, Elain looped her arms around him, turning her head to rest against his broad chest. 

Azriel exhaled at once, the rigidity melting away from his frame as he curved his arms around her.

“Are you alright?” he murmured into her hair. 

“I’ll be okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Silently, Elain shook her head as she kneaded his back with her fingertips. 

When she parted from him, she took his hand and led him to a bench beneath a young dogwood tree in the back half of the garden.

Once Elain had adjusted her skirts and settled with her hands in her lap, she turned to him. “Tell me what happened, Azriel.”

He took a measured breath and somberly, he began, “Elain… the night of Solstice, I never intended to leave you. Rhys discovered us and spoke into my mind. He called me to his office…” He paused, shadows darkening his eyes. “And he commanded me to stay away from you.”

Ice crystallized in her veins. “What?” The hushed word slipped past her lips. Shock gave way to crushing pain. 

How could Rhys betray her like this? Had Feyre known?

“I was wrong to listen,” he went on. “But a part of me believed it would be best for you to be angry at me. I knew that if you hated me, you would be free to move on… so you could find a better male who deserved you.”

Blinking, Elain’s brows creased. “You didn’t free me. You didn’t erase the way I felt for you… You only hurt me, Azriel. Badly. You broke my heart and you left me there, alone and confused, to pick up the pieces.”

“I know…” he said sadly, his gaze shifting toward the ground as his grip tightened on the bottom edge of the garden bench. “You gave me a chance at everything I’ve ever wanted, and like a coward, I ran from it. Worst of all, I caused you pain and left you to suffer with that pain for so long when I should’ve been the one to take it away. I’ll never forgive myself for what I’ve done.” 

Shadows surged through the air, coiling tightly around him, entire bands of black obscuring him from view. “I thought I was doing the right thing for you, and it took me too long to realize I’d made an awful mistake, the most terrible mistake I’ve made in my life.” His eyes met hers, sorrow and remorse churning within them. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I know my words are not enough, and I know it’s far too late… But I am so sorry, Elain.”

Even though she knew why he’d done it, the memory of her heartache still released a sharp flare of anger and sadness within her. To hear it all from his lips… it left her swimming in relief and frustration, lamenting the wasted time, the needless anguish they’d both gone through.   

“I always knew that this was difficult for you—the bond, the secrecy,” she told him. “I knew you struggled with yourself—questioning whether you were deserving of the way I felt for you. So I tried to be understanding. I waited. I waited for you to explain. If you’d only told me, I would’ve understood. If you would’ve told me the truth of how you felt, I would’ve told you I need you. Just as you are.” Azriel went entirely still, as if stunned and horrified that all of this could’ve truly been that simple. “But you didn’t tell me. You shut me out entirely. As if I was so worthless I didn’t deserve an explanation or an apology. Like I’d never meant anything to you.”

His entire expression shifted and it was pure devastation she saw swirling in his eyes. “I did this because you are worth so much more than what I can give you, Elain.” A muscle quivered along his jaw. “I’ve done atrocious, terrible things. I’ve survived horrors that still invade my dreams and I have suffered in ways I cannot bear to confess.” Elain knew all of this. Had guessed it long ago. Quietly, he added, “Deep down, I can't help but fear my soul has been permanently changed.” 

Her heart ached for him, for the horrific abuse he endured and the gruesome memories that haunted him. He truly could not see the beauty of his own heart beneath the pain and shame that clouded his view of himself. 

She looked down at Azriel’s hand beside her, still clamped around the lower lip of the bench and covered it with her own. “I don’t know everything you’ve been through, but I know you are a miracle for making it through what you did to become the male you are. I’ve seen who you are, Azriel. And I know your heart is good.”

He released the iron of the bench from his grip so he could lace his fingers with hers. “My life has changed me in many ways that cannot be undone, and I will always carry that with me. I can’t help but feel selfish for thinking of forcing all of it upon you.”

Elain frowned. Could he still not see that she’d wanted him all along? Not just the parts that were easy to love, but all of him. “It isn’t up to you to make that decision for me,” she told him. “I’ve had enough of everyone pushing me away and trying to decide what’s best for me. I won’t stand for it anymore.” 

“I’m sorry,” Azriel whispered. He held her hand tighter, as if he was afraid she might pull it away and couldn’t bear the loss of her touch. “I was wrong. I know I deserve your anger for what I did to you.” He pulled his wings in tight. “But please… please know that there hasn’t been a day I haven’t torn myself apart for what I did to you. There hasn’t been a single night I haven’t gone out of my mind from missing you. Please know that I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you.”

Elain’s breath caught in her throat. “I understand why you did it, even though I’m still mad that you did,” she began delicately. “My anger doesn’t change what you mean to me. It doesn’t tarnish the memories I have of you, of the time we’ve spent together.” She stroked her thumb over the side of his hand. “Azriel… I want you. And if you ever doubt that again, just ask me and I’ll tell you I do… But I can’t be with you if you’ll leave me the moment you start to worry about whether I would want someone else or deserve someone other than you.”

For a moment, Azriel closed his eyes and kept them shut tight. “Elain, I swear I will never do that to you again. I feel that I may never be worthy of you, but if you somehow still want me after all of this, I will never let anything come between us again.” His fingers moved against hers, stroking them softly. “From the moment I met you, I was captivated by you. When I got to know you, I felt at home with you, in a way I’ve never been with anyone else.” 

Elain felt the unbending places inside her melt into softness. She’d always felt the same way about him… Needing to touch him, she rested her hand against his lower back and he turned his head to meet her gaze. 

His grip tightened on her hand. “I love you,” he said, raw desperation heavy in every feature of his face. “With all that I am, I love you, and I’m sorry. If you give me a chance, I will never stop showing you how much I love you.” 

Elain’s eyes began to prickle with unshed tears that welled up within them. Before she could speak, Azriel continued, blinking quickly as his calm, level voice began to waver. “I understand if you need time. I understand if I’ve overwhelmed you. There’s so much I regret and I don’t want to regret never telling you that I love you.” He squeezed his eyes shut again as the first tear plummeted from the corner of his eye and streaked down his face. “And if it’s too late, and this is how it ends, then at least I’ve finally learned what love is. At least I’ve been blessed to know you, to know how it feels to love you.”

Tears began rolling down his cheeks, leaking from beneath the dark fringe of his eyelashes, as if he’d finally relaxed and everything he’d held back for so long was coming to the surface for the first time, spilling over through cracks in barriers that had remained strong for so long. 

“I love you, Azriel,” she told him for the very first time, with her hand cupping the side of his face, her thumb gliding through a glistening trail of tears as she stroked his cheek. “I don’t need time. I’ve had enough time… too much time.” Elain blinked away tears that blurred her view of his beautiful face. 

“I love you,” he whispered, hazel eyes brimming with awe and disbelief. “I loved you every day I kept myself away from you. I loved you long before then. You have been every heavenly dream shining through my darkest nights. And I swear I will be relentless in showing you what you mean to me.”

He swept her into his arms and Elain settled against his warmth. “Azriel… You were the one who found me when I was lost. You freed me and breathed hope back into me when no one else could reach me. You were the only one who could ever understand all of my heart, and I’m so happy you found your way back to me.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” His voice was rough as he spoke through his tears, stroking his hand down the waves of her long, gold-tinged hair. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Elain rubbed slow circles over his back. “I forgive you,” she told him. With those simple words, a looming heaviness inside of her faded away, leaving a sparkling promise of hope and healing in its wake. “I want to move past this,” she said as she clung to him, feeling fragile and clean like a peaceful sunrise after a midnight storm.

She felt him inhale as if he might speak, but he only nodded against her, his chest stuttering as he choked back a sob. 

“It’s okay,” she soothed him, holding him so close within the shelter of her arms. It was okay for him to let himself feel, to allow her to stay with him as the most delicate, buried parts of him were uncovered. It was safe for him to trust that her gentle hands would hold his fractured pieces together when he couldn’t do it himself. Without judgment. Without expectations. 

It was okay. 

Everything was okay. 

Elain could sense the clashing emotions within him. Enfolded in her arms, he basked in sweet relief and peace while in the middle of a cruel sea of horror and shame, still furious with himself over what he’d done to her and the way he’d lost control over his composure. 

For as much as she felt rising to the surface in her own heart, she knew Azriel had met her with a volatile battle raging between the walls of his chest, rooted in centuries of self-loathing and fueled by scars that remained from long ago. Elain’s decision had been made before she’d sent her note, but he had come to her and left his heart in her hands, uncertain whether she would keep it or tear it apart.

Elain brushed a gentle kiss over his cheek and her palm drifted upward to cup the back of his neck. 

Beautiful is what he was. Every bit of him. The glistening light that illuminated his kindness from within, the quiet darkness that clung to him, and his precious, lovely heart. A heart that was just as strong as it was gentle. And she would be his refuge for as long as he needed her to be.  

Elain knew that beneath a solid, unwavering surface, Azriel concealed a deep well of buried emotions that gathered into a silent storm inside him. She knew she couldn’t dredge anything up for him, and she couldn’t chase it away herself, but she could lend her own strength when it broke free and became too much for him to carry. She would do anything she could for him. Now and always. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his breathing now slow and even. “I didn’t mean to…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence for Elain to know he was attempting to apologize for letting his emotions overtake him. For needing her to comfort him.

Still holding him close, Elain shook her head. 

No. She would not allow him to apologize for this. 

“Would you kiss me?” she asked. 

Azriel drew back enough to meet her gaze. Anticipation simmered inside her as she watched his face, his parted lips. He wove his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and stroked her scalp, his fingertips gently sliding along her skin. Heat bloomed deep inside her at the intimacy of the touch, at the look of need and devotion in his eyes. With one of his hands still warm against her hip and the other buried in her hair, he tilted her head and brought his lips to hers. 

His kiss was a soft caress, tender and loving, slow and patient. As if they had all the time in the world and he intended to make use of every precious minute. His darkening scent enveloped her, blending with hers as their lips moved together; a flawless harmony between adoration and need. 

She could feel the deep intention beneath the way his lips moved against hers; this kiss was a promise, an unfolding of something pure and new… 

The start of forever. 

He moved to the side of her throat with sensuous kisses trailing down her neck until he was gently sucking the skin into his mouth. Elain made no effort to subdue the soft noises of pleasure that he wrung from her.      

“Elain…” His voice was velvet on bare skin. “I need to know how you taste.”

A wave of need swept through her. There would be no more distance or barriers between them. There was nothing to consider past his offer and the way she yearned for him. Azriel awaited her reply, his breaths soft against her neck as his thumb skated over the curve of her jaw. 

“Yes.” Her own voice felt far away through the dreamlike haze that enveloped her. Birdsong had quieted and the flowers and greenery had long since faded into a distant memory. 

Azriel pressed one last lingering kiss against the side of her throat before he was kneeling on the ground before her, taking the hem of her dress and carefully rolling it upward—each fold of the fabric revealing more of her legs until the layers of fine cotton were gathered in her lap. She was aching for him—her every thought centered upon the male before her and the pulsing between her legs. 

Without a word, Azriel removed the dainty slippers from her feet and then his broad hands were gliding along the outsides of her shins, up her thighs, her body awakening beneath his touch. His hands trailed back down her legs, fingers digging in to massage her calves before sweeping back up until they were nearly close enough to touch the fine fabric that covered her dripping sex. His rough hands were warm against her and Elain savored the sensation as he dragged his fingertips along the insides of her thighs, her breaths growing shallow. 

“So often, I’ve wondered… how your hands would feel, gliding over my skin…” Elain mused, carding her fingers through his thick hair. “I don’t know how I’ll ever part from you now.”

“You don’t know how desperately I’ve longed to see you just like this, to touch you… For as long as you allow it, the purpose of my existence will be your pleasure.”

Elain gave a contented sigh as his hands caressed her inner thighs. His fingers wandered higher, hooking over the bands of lace at her hips and carefully pulling the delicate, blush pink fabric down her legs until the scrap of lace was lying on the flagstone at her bare feet. His hands were instantly on her legs, the firm muscles of his arms shifting and bulging beneath his leathers as he resumed his lavish massage of her skin. And then he ran his palms along her inner thighs, out to her knees, spreading her legs apart as his fingers crossed her skin. 

A low sound came from deep in his chest as his gaze settled between her legs. “You look divine, Elain.” His deep voice slid down her spine. “My goddess, dripping wet for me…”

His fingers were finally between her legs, rubbing soft circles against her as she hummed with satisfaction. He grasped her hip with his other hand and guided her to the edge of the bench. Elain leaned back, using one arm to hold the bunched layers of her skirt against her stomach.        

With her eyes closed, she felt his sensuous lips meet the inside of her thigh, pressing kisses along her skin, sucking that skin into his mouth. She grew impossibly wetter at the sound of his moan as he dragged his tongue in long, languid strokes over her center. 

“You’re perfect,” he said, sighing against her. “Elain… fuck… If this is a dream, then I hope it’ll be the one to end me…”

Elain whimpered as his mouth descended upon her once more. His hand drifted over her hip and settled at the side of her waist, his fingers stroking the fabric of her fitted bodice. Elain laid her hand over his, her thumb gliding over the coarse ridges of his scars, reminding him that she was here with him and every second was theirs—all of it entirely real. 

He circled her clit with his tongue and Elain squeezed his fingers as her stomach tightened. When she glanced down, she met his intense, hazel eyes looking up from beneath dark lashes as his mouth moved against her. The image was branded into her mind, of Azriel just like this, with his face between her legs, entirely entranced as he watched her. 

Oh gods, she was going to burn up from the inside out… With a needy whine, Elain tipped her head back and her eyes flickered shut.

Azriel’s grip tightened at her waist, and as his tongue swirled over her clit, he closed his lips around the small bud and sucked. With a short gasp, Elain clung to the edge of the garden bench, moaning as he did it again. And again. 

She felt her release building with each rapturous pass he made, her entire body hurtling toward a marvelous rush of ecstasy. 

Azriel’s hands swept behind her, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her backside, pressing her sex into his face and smothering the deep, needy sounds he made against her. The next strokes of his tongue sent her over the edge, her orgasm crashing through her in one blissful wave after another as she moved against his face. She couldn’t suppress the sounds that broke free from her as she lost herself to pleasure that tore  through her over and over.

Panting, Elain sagged against the garden bench, closing her eyes as she tried to reorient herself to her body and the world around her. 

“Beautiful,” Azriel murmured as his lips left her still-pulsing center. “You’re so beautiful when you come for me.” He pressed a soft kiss against her inner thigh. 

“Azriel…” She lovingly combed her fingers through his hair. “Let me take you in my mouth. I’d like to taste you, too.”

He shook his head, rubbing slow circles through the wetness between her thighs. “I’m not finished yet, my love.”

His eyes drifted shut as he lowered his face to her center, lapping against her as his hands slid beneath her legs and wrapped around the tops of her thighs. Elain’s will to protest vanished as she was overtaken by the pleasure of his wondrous mouth against her.

His tongue traced her opening unhurriedly and when he slipped it inside her, Elain cried out at the blissful sensation of him thrusting into her, filling her. Her fingertips found his hair, diving into the silky, dark waves as she moaned.  

As pleasure built deep within her, Azriel slid his tongue back up to her clit and slipped one finger inside her, curling it against her inner wall. Elain knew it wouldn’t be much longer until she was unraveling once more. 

He was relentless in the way he stroked the sensitive spot within her, ravenous in the way he tasted her. This was how he unleashed himself after being deprived of her. 

She’d been deprived of him, too…

Never again would she need to deny herself of him, of everything she’d needed for so long.

She leaned into Azriel’s face, gently rocking against him, and at once, she felt the hand that still wrapped around the back of her thigh pulling her in with each wave of her hips, urging her to continue moving for him.

And then Elain felt the satisfying stretch as he plunged two fingers inside her. She tightened around them, every sense narrowing to the feel of him inside her, of his tongue stroking her clit. She heard herself murmur his name and then she was coming for him—glorious surges of bliss that washed through her, one after another. Azriel moaned as he worked her through each rise and fall until she was limp and breathless and her legs were trembling and entirely boneless. 

He slid his fingers from inside her and tenderly kissed the swollen bud of her clit. “My love,” he said, his eyes glazed with lust. “My sensuous, beautiful queen.”

With hunger in his eyes, he gazed up at her as his tongue returned to her slick sex. 

“Azriel—” she started as she tensed her legs around him.

He halted, eyes glancing up at her attentively. “Do you grow weary of the way I worship you?” 

“Not at all,” she replied around heavy breaths. “I only wish to kiss you.” 

He quickly wiped his face on his sleeve and rose up on his knees so he could wrap his arms around her. He met her with a kiss that stole the air from her lungs. He tightened his hold on her and she hooked her legs around his back until she could feel his hardened cock against her, bulging beneath his fighting leathers. 

“Take me inside,” she whispered. Effortlessly, he stood and lifted her in his arms, shadows enfolding them as he followed her command.

She hadn’t expected to appear just inside the back door, as if Azriel hadn’t wanted to presume what she was asking for, where this would lead. 

Elain forced her lips to part from his, need coloring her voice as she specified, “My bedroom…” 

Still holding her in his arms, with her ankles crossed behind him and ringlets of her hair catching on the pauldrons of his armor, Azriel kissed her deeply, even as they sailed through the darkness together. 

When her room surrounded them a moment later, he took slow steps toward the side of her bed and set her down on the soft comforter, his mouth never leaving hers. Her hand found the back of his neck and she pulled him down along with her as she reclined until her head rested on her pillow. His kiss grew ever more heated and hungry as he covered her body with his. Elain’s heart glimmered at the contact, of how the world around them, down to the very air that surrounded them, seemed to shift into place as their bodies aligned.

Her hands made broad, sensuous strokes over his back and he drove his hips into hers, as if he’d been unable to defy the impulse, and then he was kissing his way down her neck, over her chest, pressing a tender kiss to the top of her breast as his hand cupped the soft swell of flesh through the fabric of her dress.

Azriel’s lips left her skin and his deep voice was gravelly as he told her, “I want to see all of you.”

The delicious weight of him disappeared as he raised his body from hers to kneel beside her on the bed. Elain sat up and hastily reached for the lacing at the back of her bodice, but his hand captured her wrist, suddenly encircling it with gentle, scar-flecked fingers.      

“No,” Azriel gave the soft command. “I’d like to do it myself.” He reached toward his thigh. “Would that be okay?” he asked gently as he removed Truth Teller from its sheath.    

The knife.

He wanted to… 

Heat engulfed her. In the romance books she’d read, none of the males had gone about undressing their females like this, but the thought of Azriel cutting her out of her dress made her dizzy with need.  

“Do it,” she told him, lowering herself back against her pillow. “Please.”

He bunched the bottom hem of her dress in his fist and lifted it so the skirt went taut over her and from beneath, he pushed the tip of the blade through the fabric that hovered just over her sex. In one smooth motion, he pulled upward and Elain heard the material shred as he cut straight through it before slicing through the hem with one more quick tug. She tightened, needing him to move faster, needing to be fully unclothed with him inside her.

He lifted the dress from her skin once more, tenting it over her stomach and sliding the knife into the fabric of her bodice. The black metal reappeared above her navel before it swept upward, lengthening the slit he’d carved into the dress.

There was no violence in the way he carefully cut through the layers of burgundy fabric while gazing down at her with dreamy-eyed reverence. 

“Hold your breath,” he directed as the dagger passed beneath the cinched waistline of her dress. She followed his command and another swipe of the blade tore the dress up to the bust line. “That’s it,” he told her. “That was perfect, Elain.”

He angled the knife between her breasts, and with one sharp snap of the blade, the front of her dress was split in two. He made no attempt to part the fabric, just slid his gaze along slivers of exposed skin between the frayed edges of torn cotton. He made quick work of cutting through the thin sleeves of the dress and tossed the knife to the rug. 

And then he ran one finger down the gap in the dress, lightly trailing between her breasts and over her stomach, Elain’s breath hitching as goosebumps spread across her skin. From her hips, he pushed the fabric aside until her legs and bare stomach were exposed. Bit by bit, he uncovered her, his hands exploring and caressing her until she was nearly delirious with need.

“Every inch of you is utter perfection,” he said, entirely captivated as he drank in the sight of her wholly naked before him. Elain tracked his gaze as it wandered across her body, his eyes glazed with admiration and yearning. 

He brushed his fingertips against the delicate skin of her lower stomach with long, featherlight strokes that turned Elain’s insides molten. 

She lifted her hips until she could pull the dress out from beneath her and tossed it over the side of the bed as his hands cupped her breasts, stroking his thumbs over her rosy nipples. 

She pushed herself upright and her fingers began roaming over his Illyrian leathers, searching for a way to remove them. As she began undoing one of the buckles along his leather gauntlet, Azriel pressed two fingers against the cobalt siphon on his opposite hand and Elain watched in surprise as his armor peeled away, vanishing into thin air, revealing the tattooed, golden-brown skin beneath. 

His body was magnificent, as if an artist’s hand had chiseled him into a masterful image of male perfection. Elain’s gaze drifted down his muscled chest, over his finely sculpted stomach. New wetness gathered inside her as she admired his cock—just as perfect as the rest of him—long and thick, arching upward and leaking at the tip. Breathless, Elain looked into his eyes. “You are gorgeous, Azriel.” 

Elain ran her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, down his biceps, stroking his firm muscles. His exhale became a low hum of pleasure as she caressed him. Her fingers trailed down his stomach, eager to take his cock in her hands, to coat it in the wetness that gathered and dripped down his shaft, but just as her fingers traced the deep, grooved lines at his hips, his mouth was over her breast, his tongue circling her peaked nipple as he positioned his body over hers and guided her down to the mattress. 

Her legs parted as he settled above her, feeling every bit of his stiff erection and its slick wetness pressed against her stomach

“Are you sure?” he asked, and Elain felt her heart buckle, knowing he sought her consent because he believed there was a chance she would refuse him, even now. 

“Yes,” she told him with all the sincerity in her heart. “Of course I am.” Beyond his need to ensure she truly wanted him, there was suddenly the faintest hint of vulnerability about him, as if there was something new to this, something unknown to him, and Elain wondered if he’d ever truly made love to anyone—if he’d ever joined his body to another’s with intention, as an expression of love that went beyond the physical act of sex. 

Her hands moved across his skin tenderly. Patiently. “I love you, Azriel,” she told him, with a voice as soft as the first light of dawn. “For so long, with every piece of my heart, I have loved you.” From the look in his eyes, she knew what her words meant to him, how he’d needed to hear them. “I have no doubts, no second thoughts. There is no part of me that hesitates to give myself to you. I’m yours…” she said, combing her fingers through his hair. “All of me is yours.”

“I’ve always been yours…” he rasped. “Always.” She understood because she felt it, too—that what existed between them was so strong and so  beautiful, it felt as if they’d been shaped to find and complete one another from the time of the universe’s first breath. 

“Show me,” she coaxed him. “Show me what it is to be yours.”

His lips captured hers and he kissed her one last time, thoroughly, unhurriedly, before he shifted his weight to one arm and reached down between their bodies, his hand wrapping around his hardened length and guiding the tip between her legs. Her arms settled around him as he dipped the broad head of his cock into her wetness and swept it over her clit. 

He was watching her again, and Elain was overcome as she realized he wanted to witness the emotion and pleasure on her face as they joined their bodies together for the first time. 

She held him as he began sinking into her, slowly, so slowly. The feel of him, the stretch of his cock sliding into her had her eyes fluttering as she fought to keep them open, determined to meet his gaze while he looked into her eyes. He was devouring the sight of her as he cupped her cheek with one hand, each gentle surge of his hips taking him deeper inside her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his low voice rough with pleasure and restraint. She knew he was taking care to enter her gradually, to allow her to adjust to his size without causing her pain. 

“Yes,” she told him. “I want more… I want all of you.”

He lowered himself, his whole body blanketing hers as he buried himself further inside her until his entire length was sheathed in her. 

She was mesmerized by the sight of his face consumed in bliss as he withdrew to the tip in one long, indulgent pull. 

“Gods, you feel incredible, Elain…” he said, his eyes drifting shut. 

Elain stroked his back, treasuring the beautiful feeling of wholeness that settled into her heart as the male she loved moved inside her. What had begun as a long-simmering, secret longing had ignited into something consuming, unparalleled, and perfect. They would no longer hide it from one another. From anyone. 

With every inch of him filling her, he slipped one hand beneath her spine, arching her back until her hips tilted, and when he slid out of her, Elain moaned as the length of his cock dragged along her sex. She moved with him as he did it again, meeting the long, smooth thrusts of his hips while she lavishly caressed his skin.

And she felt as if a sparkling ocean was pouring into her, filling her veins until there was no place in her body untouched by it. The way they moved together transcended all of the magic known in this world and the galaxy beyond, bathing her in euphoria unlike anything she’d ever known. 

She touched him for every brush of their fingers that should have been more, savored the feeling of him filling her so completely to eviscerate the emptiness that had settled into every place she’d needed him across so many lonely nights.  

His broad chest rose from hers and his head tipped forward, tousled black fringe falling over his face as his gaze dropped to where their bodies joined together. Elain let her eyes drift down to watch as his handsome cock slid out of her, shining from her wetness, and disappeared as he drove it back into her, his defined muscles shifting with every slow, sensual thrust of his hips. 

Whimpering softly, she watched the way they made love to each other. When she dragged her gaze away, she found his eyes locked on hers.

“Tell me this is real,” he pleaded. 

“It’s real,” Elain whispered, stroking the back of his neck. 

His thumb drew soft lines across her cheek. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she said as she pressed her lips to the side of his neck, kissing him sweetly before sucking against his skin until she was blessed with the sound of his deep moan.

With each exquisite roll of his hips, Elain felt his body speak of his unending devotion, an unstoppable current rushing outward from the depths of his heart. And like a blossom unfolding, Elain’s heart opened fully to his, embracing every facet of him as her hand slid far down his back and pulled him in deeper. The strands of love that bridged them wove themselves into a beautiful, unspoken vow, flowing like sacred, silent poetry between them. 

She breathed his name—a veneration, a desperate plea—while she laced her fingers into his thick hair, edging closer to her release.  

Elain could feel the exact moment Azriel’s inhibitions faded away and he became truly lost in her, his movements becoming wholly free and unrestrained, as if what remained of the walls around his heart had finally crumbled into nothing. Her arms wrapped around him, cradling him against her like the treasure that he was. 

He reached down between them, his thumb rubbing her clit as his breaths grew shallow. Elain moaned as she tightened around him, fingertips digging into his powerful back, uncertain how her body could withstand such pleasure. 

Azriel dipped his head until his forehead rested against hers. “Elain…” His voice was desperate as he angled his mouth over hers and kissed her deeply. Elain eagerly parted for him and returned the first sensuous stroke of his tongue, but she was already coming for him. Her lips broke apart from his, sounds of ecstasy filling her mouth as an infinite cascade of pleasure overcame her, immense and glorious. He had plummeted into his release along with her, his face tucked into the crook of her neck, clinging to her, spilling himself inside her as their souls melded together. They surrendered entirely to each other as they moved as one, bodies yielding to rising and falling torrents of bliss that seemed unending. 

A burst of shimmering gold erupted behind Elain’s eyes as something flared to life deep inside her chest, like a luminous, gilded sun. 

The feeling lingered, her body continuing its soaring even as Azriel stilled inside her, his mighty wings draping over the bed. She touched him unceasingly, writing her love across his skin with gentle caresses across his back. 

Catching his breath, Azriel slid his arms beneath her. He held her tightly before gradually relaxing against her, murmuring her name again, as if he might voice some veiled thought, but instead, he brushed a soft kiss against the side of her neck. Elain understood. For it was impossible to form words beautiful enough to describe any part of what they’d just shared. 

So they held each other, luxuriating in tranquil silence and the afterglow that encompassed them. To Elain, it felt as if time was suspended and they existed alone in this dream-like pocket of joy and love and contentment. Both of them fulfilled and together. After all this time. 

When Elain finally grew too curious, she whispered, “Do you feel something different… inside you?” She searched for words to explain what she had felt, bright and golden within her chest. “Something that happened… between us?”

She didn’t want to hope… She knew it was impossible, but…

Azriel’s eyes were soft and contemplative as they met hers. “I’ve never felt anything like this,” he said, blinking in awe. “Nothing even close. He shifted, untucking his arm from beneath her so he could stroke the side of her face with his fingertips. “For the first time in my life, I feel peace… I feel whole.” He didn’t try to hide it as his eyes filled with tears. “For the first time, I feel I am not lost or alone.” He kissed her lips with heartbreaking gentleness. “Because of you. Because I belong with you.”

Tears ran down her cheeks as Elain held his enormous body to all of her delicate softness. 

“You belong with me and I will never let you go,” she promised. Elain kissed him soundly and he was instantly hardening inside her. She let out a long moan as his hips began rocking against her, her insides singing with reawakened need. 

Nothing existed beyond them. Beyond this. As they finally shared their love at last. 

Chapter Text

Azriel

Azriel woke to the soft music of birdsong. A quick flicker of his lashes and his eyes slid shut again. He was enveloped in a cloud of gentle perfume and he inhaled the sweet, intoxicating scent deep into his lungs, his cock growing impossibly harder. 

He felt her then. 

Elain. 

Her head rested on his chest and her delicate fingertips drifted over his bare skin. Eyes still shut, he rolled to face her with a sleepy groan, pulling her in until her breasts and stomach were flush against him and their legs intertwined. She hummed contentedly as his hand swept up and down her back.

Az refused to open his eyes, determined to hold onto this ephemeral, half-dazed fantasy for as long as he could…

He woke in her arms again, unsure of how much time had passed.

Heaven. This was heaven…

“Good morning, my love,” Elain murmured. He could think of no melody as beautiful as her soft, sleepy voice as she greeted him from within the loose ring of his embrace. 

The warmth of her skin against his was no fleeting illusion… She was there, gazing up at him with love glimmering in her eyes. 

She was truly there… Wholly naked. And entirely his.

Her fingers stroked the back of his neck. “What did you dream of?” 

“Nothing,” he said, closing his eyes and savoring the blissful feeling that had settled into his bones. “Nothing at all. And it was perfect.”

In all the centuries of his existence, he’d never known peace like this. It felt too good to be true; to wake with her, to feel her fingers lazily skimming over his skin, to know that the love they’d made hadn’t been a dream. 

He’d grown so used to the frigid emptiness that had carved him up from the inside, that this newfound happiness and warmth felt foreign as it scattered the darkness and filled the void within his chest. He wasn’t sure whether his body was built to withstand this feeling. 

It wouldn’t take much more until he was pushed past the edge and drowning in it. It would be an exquisite end and he would welcome it happily, wholeheartedly…

“What is it, Azriel?” she asked, as if she could sense him slipping further into his thoughts.

Trying to find the words to say, Az turned over onto his back, pulling Elain with him until her head rested on his chest and her leg hitched up over his thigh. 

He took a slow, deep breath. Another. She let him have the silence, her palm pressed to his chest and her thumb gently stroking his skin. 

“It’s happened too many times…” he began as impassively as he could manage, his hushed tone too loud in the delicate quiet of her bedroom. “You would tell me you wanted me, and I would spend one utterly magnificent night with you. But when the sun rose, I would wake to find you missing from my bed.” He kept his voice low and level, hiding the pain that bled into his chest as he recalled the memories. “And then I would have to face the truth that everything I’d found in my dreams had never been.”

“Never again,” she told him, her fingers still sweeping lovingly over his chest. “Today, and through all the days that follow, you will wake with me beside you.” 

A beautiful promise. Too perfect, too incredibly wonderful for someone like him. 

Every morning… just like this with her… His chest felt as if it might cave in. 

“I never thought—” he began, halting abruptly when emotion stoppered his throat. He fought it back down, working to keep the shameful quiver from his low voice. “I never—” 

Fuck, he couldn’t… 

It was too raw, too much. He clenched his jaw, squeezing as if it could harden this feeling into something firm and stable. 

What was happening to him…

“I know,” Elain said gently, her arms tightening around him as she pressed a kiss against his chest, right over his blooming, battered heart. “I love you, Azriel.”

He took in a breath of her calming scent, letting her serenity wash over him. He palmed the back of her neck, holding her close before caressing down the length of her spine. 

Each time he held her like this, every time their eyes met, with the slightest touch of her skin against his, he couldn’t help but feel as if she’d been made for him. And when he’d made love to her, he’d felt as if he was shattered and remade, all of his pieces whole and resplendent in her arms. 

Sex had never felt like this before… Meaningful. Beautiful. A sacred oath cast out from his heart. He had never dared to dream that something like this could be possible for him. 

He grasped her hips and shifted them until her slim body was centered over his. She propped herself up to meet his gaze as she combed her fingers through his hair. Azriel’s eyes closed with a long hum of satisfaction. 

This was real…

He glanced back up at her and knew that everything in this world paled against her beauty—her perfect face with eyes that were deep and warm like a rich cup of tea; the thick ringlets of hair that were glowing golden beneath sunbeams that streamed in through her window; her lovely, graceful neck; and the gentle curves of her breasts as they pressed against his chest.

Az had been thorough in exploring every inch of that gorgeous body, learning which touches made her shiver, which made her beg.

When he hadn’t been inside her or mapping the intricacies of her body with his hands and mouth, he and Elain had been wrapped up in each other’s arms, exchanging soft words or drifting off to sleep under silky, tangled sheets. 

He’d only parted from her to winnow to the heart of the city and back so he could return with contraceptive tea and something for them to eat beyond the cookies and muffins Elain kept in the kitchen. 

“I want you,” she whispered temptingly, tilting her head down to suck at the side of his neck. He wove his fingers into her hair, gently holding her in place against him, hoping she might continue. He wished he could speak the words aloud; Don’t stop… I need to feel you like this… I need to know that your heart is still mine…

He wondered if she knew—if she realized that this meant everything to him…  

As her mouth worked against his skin, a long groan escaped him. He slid his hand down her back, kneading his fingers into the flesh of her luscious backside. Elain made a sweet, pleading sound against his throat.

Gods, she was bewitching, so sensuous and needy as she gave her love to him. 

“I will never tire of this,” he told her. “I will never have enough of you.”

Azriel drew his fingers up along her back and began a slow path down her shoulder, his fingertips skirting the side of her breast, sweeping idly over the side of her waist. He marked every sound that passed through her lips, along with what he’d done to cause it. Tucking away each precious secret of her. Etching every nuance of her body into his memory. Of all the ways he could please her. 

He slipped his hand between their bodies until he could drag his fingertips over her clit. With a gorgeous moan, her lips parted from his neck as she rolled onto her back and opened her legs for him. 

An invitation he would not refuse. As he slid one finger inside her, his mind went entirely blank. 

Fuck…

She was so wet… dripping wet and ready for him… Gods, he’d hardly touched her…

Azriel’s hardened cock pulsed so fiercely it was nearly maddening. He restrained himself, fighting the need to settle between her legs and push himself straight into her. 

Only her… only Elain could drive him to react so impulsively.

He focused on slowing the pace of his breathing until his head felt a bit clearer, his fingertips keeping a steady rhythm as they traced circles over her clit. Azriel’s gaze wandered across her body. He was mesmerized by the sight of her laid out before him, the soft sounds she made. 

With a sharp hitch, his breath caught in his throat. Elain’s hand had found the broad expanse of his inner thigh. Her palm dragged over his bare skin, massaging the muscles beneath. 

Her touch disarmed him. His eyelids flickered as warmth and lightness rushed through him. Without meaning to, his strokes quickened against her center. 

Azriel swallowed a desperate moan before it could leave his throat. Elain’s dainty hand inched closer to the base of his cock and Azriel’s stomach tightened. 

In one quick movement, his hand locked around her wrist, sweeping it upward until he’d pinned it to the pillow above her head. His hips pressed hers down to the bed.

“Impatient, my love?” he asked calmly as he ground himself against her.

Did she know what an enchanting temptress she was? She was making ruins of his plans to touch her until she was delirious with need, to make love to her gently, to bring her to the edge so slowly that her release would crash through her like a storm set free from the clouds. 

A shaky breath passed through her lips. “I need you, Azriel…” 

The way she said it, the way her brows drew together and her head tipped back… 

His plans, the drawn-out symphony of pleasure he yearned to give her—there would be time for that later. Now was not the time to deny her of anything.

“I’m yours, Elain.” He kissed her fully, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “I’ll give you everything you need.”

He trailed kisses down her jaw as he carefully twisted her hips, turning them until her tantalizing backside was pressed against the length of his cock, her body nestled into the curve of his.

“Like this, Elain?” he offered smoothly, one finger gliding lazily over the side of her waist. 

“Yes,” she breathed. “Like this—anyway you like it—I just…” A short exhale. “I need you inside me…”

Elain arched her back and Azriel gripped his cock and angled himself until he was nudging against her sex, coating the head with her wetness before he slowly pushed himself into her. 

Mother above… 

He could hardly breathe when she felt like this. He loved her so completely, needed her so desperately, entering her was nothing less than transcendent. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispered in her ear. “You take me so beautifully, Elain.”

She blew out a blissful sigh, tension leaving her body as he filled her. “You feel so good, Azriel.” Her light, breathy voice skittered down his spine. 

His heart swelled with contentment. This was how it should be. This was what they both needed. He hoped she was anticipating another day of this, as he was… He could hardly take one look at her without wanting more. 

Elain reached behind her head, finding the disheveled waves of his hair and lacing her fingers into them, swirling her nails over his scalp. It still took him by surprise—how eager she was to touch him, how generous she was with her affection. 

He couldn’t help the way his hips strayed from their rhythm with one heavy thrust. Elain moaned as she twisted her fingers into his hair, tugging gently. The sensation melted all sense from his mind.  

Driven by need, he traced slow, exploratory lines over her stomach before he cupped and caressed her breast, rolling his thumb over her pink nipple. Her skin was luxurious beneath his fingertips, so smooth and soft. He could touch her for hours, just like this, and he’d still want for more the moment they parted. 

Elain moved in time with the slow waves of his hips, a stream of whimpers and moans flowing from her mouth. He savored each one. She was so sensitive, so delightfully expressive. 

For so long, he’d wanted nothing more than this—to touch her and please her, to let his body speak of the depths of what he felt for her. He gave himself to her. To his beautiful Elain—the one who had reached down through the most hardened layers of him and wrapped her lovely hands around his heart; the one who saw him as he was and still found something precious within his soul. 

The rocking of his hips grew freer, quickening with his need. The inviting scent of her neck summoned his lips until he was brushing them against the graceful column of her throat. He was rewarded with a sweet whimper and Azriel began to suck at her soft, fragile skin. He gave her more. Sucking deeper, thrusting faster as her moans grew desperate. He caught her earlobe between his lips, his teeth grazing it lightly until it slid free from his mouth. 

She twisted back toward him, clasping the back of his neck, desperately searching for a kiss. He captured her mouth, greedily slipping his tongue past her lips and devouring what she offered him. Hungry. Reckless. 

Kissing her as he moved inside her… there was nothing that undid him faster. 

Azriel ran his hand along the inside of her thigh, lifting her knee until her legs opened. He slid his fingers down to her clit, circling it as she moaned into his mouth. He smoothly shifted onto his back, pulling her with him so her body draped over his, her back against his chest. Her head tipped back until it was cradled between his shoulder and his neck, and she settled with her cheek pressed against the side of his jaw, her legs spread wide and hands clutching at the white sheets beneath them. 

His fingers still working between her thighs, Az palmed her breast as he thrust up into her, heated and unrestrained. “Is that what you want?” 

Elain nodded quickly, her voice breathless as she begged him, “Please don’t stop…”

Gods, she would be his downfall…

Never. He would never stop. His every day would be shaped around giving her as much pleasure as he could. 

Fuck, the sounds she made… He could tell she was close, and he was right at the edge. He needed to hear her come for him, needed it more than his own release. He would make it last as long as she needed, would give her anything she wanted…

His voice was rough as he asked, “Are you ready to come for me, Elain?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “I’m so close...”

He rubbed her clit with quick, smooth strokes and felt the squeeze of her inner walls around him. “That’s it,” he said soothingly. Her body clenched again and Azriel’s eyes rolled back at the feel of her tightness.

With a sharp cry of ecstasy, she sailed into her release, grinding down against his cock as she met his quick, stuttering thrusts. There was no holding back. Azriel came inside her, groaning, clutching her tightly as his hips rocked up into her until he was entirely spent.

Together, they stilled. Elain worked to catch her breath and Azriel wrapped both arms around her waist, holding her firmly to his chest. She grasped his forearms as if he were her anchor. His heart was soaring. The way his wings carried him through the skies was nothing when compared to this. 

Azriel pressed a tender kiss to her cheek. Another. “Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered as his lips arched into an easy smile. 

She turned her face inward toward his and nuzzled against him with a soft sound of contentment. 

His senses narrowed to her breathing, her scent, the new memory of her writhing as she came above him, and Azriel’s cock began to harden inside her. 

“We don’t have to,” he assured her. “If you’re hungry, I can bring something in from the city.” He still worried she’d be overwhelmed by him—the stamina of his Fae body and his relentless desire for her. 

“I want more,” she insisted with that breathy, sex-hazed voice he couldn’t get enough of. “I want you again.”

Azriel nearly groaned aloud. He wanted to hear those words for the rest of his immortal life.

“How do you want me?” she asked as she began to grind against his fully hardened length. 

Before he could lose all sense of his intentions, he reached for her hips. “Lie back on the pillow for me,” he said before helping to ease her down from his chest to the mattress. 

He wouldn’t confess it, but he wanted the intimacy of her embrace this time… wanted to feel her arms around him as he found his pleasure deep inside her. 

Without her warmth surrounding him, the air in the room felt cool and harsh against his sex-slickened cock, his bare chest. The absence of her was unbearable. He propped himself up over her body and slid straight into her with one long thrust, a sigh of relief rushing past his lips. 

Elain gasped. Her hands immediately found his skin, just as he’d hoped they would—one at the small of his back and the other wrapping behind his neck, her fingers weaving into his hair. 

He lowered his chest to hers and made love to her slowly, thinking of nothing but the bliss of his body joining hers, the way he filled her so perfectly, the patient, steady love they’d built that had led to all of this. 

It wasn’t long before the soft noises she made became short gasps and desperate whimpers. The cadence of Azriel’s hips had grown faster to match the building need within him. Grinding against him, Elain wrapped both arms around his shoulders, moaning over and over as she came beneath him. 

She nearly had him losing control of himself, but Azriel resisted the urge to quicken his pace and chase his release, keeping a steady rhythm as she came down from her high. 

A marvelous feeling shone from deep in his chest. He was the one who had been blessed with the chance to make her feel like this. She had chosen him, against all odds, despite the powerful song of fate that sought to call her away from him, she had not been swayed from sharing her heart with him. 

Azriel pumped into her harder as her roving hands trailed over the hard muscles of his arms. He dragged his tongue up the side of her neck as she sucked in a breath.

“Elain…” he breathed. Everything but her had faded into nothing. Azriel shifted, rolling his hips with the angle he knew would undo her, needing to have her just as desperate as he was. At once, she dug her fingers into his skin and whimpered. 

Perfect. This moment was perfect.

His chest pressed to hers, Azriel could feel the beat of her heart as it returned the call of his own. He dipped his face into the crook of her neck and her hand found his cheek, stroking it with her thumb. He was overcome by her gentleness. 

Azriel was nothing but pleasure and emotion, need and adoration as he drove himself deeper. Everything he’d buried for so long rushed to the surface and he lost himself in it, in what he felt for her. 

His orgasm flooded him, engulfing his body in ecstasy. He gave her everything he had, spilling into her over and over as she surrendered to her own euphoria, caressing his face while she rode out the waves of her release. The edges of the world around him dissolved and eddied around him, like a flurry of shooting stars that spiraled around their bed, slowing and blending until they were both awash with the soft glow as he settled inside her. 

Azriel panted, feeling whole and hazy and cracked wide open. Elain held him, her hands gentle and soothing as they glided up and down his back. His face still against the side of her throat, he left soft kisses there, one after another.

They remained like that, for how long, he didn’t know. He didn’t care… would’ve stayed that way forever. 

When he raised his head to meet her gaze, she smiled at him with a dreamy look on her face, love and trust shining from her eyes. 

A perfect start to the most exquisite morning he’d ever had…

When they finally rose from bed, Elain covered her bewitching body with a silk robe. It was a damn shame. Like closing the curtains to hide the most magnificent sunrise. It took all his strength to refrain from untying the bow around her waist, unwrapping her, and burying his face between her legs. 

Azriel pulled his own robe from his shadows and they made their way down to the kitchen where they finished what remained of the muffins and cookies on the countertop.

After breakfast, he followed her as she led him to the bathing room and began to fill the tub. She let her robe fall to the floor and he undid his own, opening it with a silent offer. Elain’s lips curled into a smile and she slipped her hands into the space between his skin and the fabric, looping her arms around his low back as he folded the robe closed, wrapping them both up together. He held her as the bathtub filled with steamy water, her bare skin against his. 

Without leaving his embrace, Elain reached down and grasped the bronze faucet handle, turning off the water with a twist of her wrist. When she stepped into the water and lowered herself into the tub, Azriel watched, his eyes dark with hunger, as the surface of the water passed over each of her curves.

With a sigh of satisfaction, she settled into the hot water, Azriel’s cock twitching at the sound. 

“Join me,” she said, taking his scarred hand in hers. 

He nodded without thinking. Not caring that even with the oversized tub, it would be a tight fit with his wings.

He removed his robe and passed it off to his shadows before he stepped into the porcelain tub and lowered himself to his knees. His hands skimmed over her legs beneath the water. He knew exactly what he wanted to do.

“Rest your head against the tub,” he told her. “Close your eyes.”

She showed no hesitation before following his command.

“Just like that, Elain,” he said softly. He lifted her ankle until he could rest the back of her heel against his shoulder. Then he covered his hands in soap and slid them over her smooth skin. 

The sides of his lips twitched upwards. “To think you’ve been hiding such enchanting legs beneath your skirts all this time…” 

Her soft laugh broadened his smile. “I won’t hide them from you anymore,” she said, her eyes meeting his. He caressed her thigh as their gaze held. Her eyes shifted, simmering with unexpected heat and intensity, before she added, “Especially if you touch them like this.” 

“I want all of you,” he said, quiet and demanding. “I want each part of you, every day. To hold and touch and taste as I desire.”

“Then that’s exactly what you’ll have,” she told him as her eyes drifted shut again. A contented smile lingered on her lips. She knew exactly what her words did to him. 

He nearly swept her up in his arms and carried her back to the bed, but he was determined to help her relax, to take care of her until any tension that remained had melted from her body. His fingers dug in deeper as he raked them over the sensuous flesh of her thighs.

When he’d finished with her legs, he moved to the tantalizing curves of her hips and her tight, slender waist. 

With slow, lavish strokes, his hands explored her body, and when his fingers traversed the sensitive skin of her lower stomach, Elain let out a low, seductive sigh. 

A thick lather of soap failed to hide his scars. Azriel tried not to notice how grotesque his ruined hands looked against her supple, flawless skin.

The thought was forgotten when his fingers again brushed against her low stomach and she shivered. He could hardly believe he had the privilege to touch her like this. He was captivated, watching the expressions that crossed her face, every hitch of her breath and every sigh. 

He lathered his hands again and slid them from the bottom of her ribcage up to her beautiful, pert breasts, trailing his fingers lightly over her skin before cupping the soft flesh and kneading it in his hands. With her eyes still closed, Elain exhaled slowly and Azriel began to swirl his thumbs over her peaked nipples.

He continued until a sweet moan rose up from her pretty mouth and Azriel felt nearly drunk with satisfaction.

He continued as she arched into his touch, his name a breathy plea on her lips. Between his legs, his stiff erection throbbed insistently. Ignoring the demands of his body, Azriel swept his hands up to her shoulders and down the sides of her upper arms, retracing the same path until he was cupping her breasts once more.  

“Your hands…” she said breathlessly. “They feel so good…”

Azriel felt a pang in his chest. His hands. His ugly, mutilated hands…

“I’ve never felt so loved as I do when I’m with you,” she told him. The words wrapped around his heart and squeezed tightly. He reached for her hand and her eyes flicked open before he eased her into his embrace. He knew he didn’t need to say it aloud for her to know he felt the same—that nothing had ever come close to this for him. 

When he could finally stand to part from her, he guided her to face away from him so he could massage her back thoroughly and wash the thick tresses of her hair—something he’d yearned to do ever since he’d gently untangled and brushed her soft curls weeks ago in her living room. 

As he rinsed the last bit of fragrant suds from the long curtain of her golden-brown hair, she turned her head back toward him, allowing him to gaze upon her face once more. 

“Will you lie back for me, Azriel?” she asked. “I’d like to touch you, too.”

He shook his head. It was unnecessary that she should concern herself with appeasing him. “You don’t realize, Elain—there is nothing that could bring me more satisfaction than watching you enjoy the pleasure I give you.”

Disappointment flickered in her warm eyes. Only for a second, but he hated himself for being the one to cause it. “You can’t see that I want to feel that, too?” she asked softly. “To feel your body relax beneath my hands… to watch you enjoy the way I touch your skin…”

He let the words sink in.  

“Forgive me, my love,” he told her. “I did not mean to deny you.”

“There is nothing that needs forgiven,” she began. “But please let me take care of you. I want you to lie still and let yourself enjoy my attention, just as I did for you. I want to help you relax.” 

Azriel nodded, adjusted his wings, and reclined against the back wall of the tub, resting his head against the glossy porcelain.

Elain lathered her hands and held his gaze as she straddled his thighs. Her hands began a slow exploration of his chest and shoulders, with indulgent strokes that made his blood run hot and fast. Azriel gripped the edges of the tub, fighting against the impulse to reach out and cup her lovely breasts. He closed his eyes to remove the tempting sight before him, so he could focus on the divine sensation of her hands caressing his skin.

But to his dismay, he soon found it wasn’t entirely easy. He knew why. Azriel had never once surrendered control of his body to another. Not willingly. At the thought, flashes of memory rose up from the deep pit where he’d buried them. Memories of darkness and pain and humiliation. A cold, dirty cell where he had no say in anything, in what was done to him…

No. 

He would not allow this. Not here with her. 

He knew it was illogical. The way she touched him now was hardly different from the way she’d just done so in bed, but there was a minor, yet significant difference—the way he needed to keep still, the limits on what he could do with his body. It wasn’t a simple task for him to remain entirely passive, to allow anyone, even his gentle, patient Elain, to have this sort of power over him. Even so, he truly hadn’t anticipated that any of this would’ve risen up between them. 

Azriel had always relied on his shadows to fully restrain his partners, allowing him to remain in control at all times, preventing unpredictable and unwanted contact from them. From females who only sought him out for the unique experience he could offer them. 

It wasn’t like that with Elain. He hungered for her touch. But now that this irrational thought had surfaced, he couldn’t simply will it out of existence. 

He could tell her to stop, and he knew she’d go along with whatever he asked without an interrogation or opposition. But that wasn’t what he wanted. 

“Azriel.” He opened his eyes to find Elain staring back at him. “Is everything okay?” Her hands were still, resting at the sides of his waist. He hadn’t noticed when they’d stopped moving. 

“Yes,” he said convincingly. He didn’t want to worry her. Didn’t want her to know of the shameful thoughts that had overtaken him. Beneath the water, he let his broad hands span the tops of her thighs. He squeezed once and allowed his thumbs to slide back and forth over her skin. He hoped the contact would be what he needed to settle his thoughts. 

It was her. This moment was theirs and he refused to let his mind steal it from him. Gently, he told her, “Please continue, my love.”

He kept his eyes open this time, watching her instead of letting the darkness spin unwelcome horrors into his mind. 

Elain’s eyes were heavy-lidded as her gaze wandered over the muscled planes of his body. With her hands at his waist, her thumbs swirled in slow, decadent strokes against the hard ridges of muscle that lined his stomach. The things she made him feel with her beautiful, slender hands…

She made him feel incredible. She made him feel too good.

He didn’t deserve it. 

He should be touching her, showing his appreciation instead of reclining lazily, taking her affection for granted. His limbs were suddenly crawling with the need to move, to give back the pleasure she’d given him. 

This wasn’t normal, was it? 

A normal male wouldn’t have these thoughts—would accept the attention and simply enjoy it. Rhys, Cassian, Varian—they surely wouldn’t have to endure any of these fucking miserable thoughts in the middle of something like this. He tried to lock it all away, to not think about why events that had taken place over five centuries ago still held him in their grasp. 

Why now, when everything was perfect? When her hands felt so godsdamned good as they glided across his skin. 

He told himself it wouldn’t always be like this. He needed time. Weeks, months later he wouldn’t be dealing with any of this. One day, these thoughts would leave him in peace…

If she stayed. If the dark stain inside him didn’t chase her away. If her mating bond didn’t pry her from his arms…

He slid his thumbs back and forth where they rested against her thighs. She was here. She was his. He didn’t have to be still unless he wanted to. 

Elain was massaging his shoulders. He drew his attention to that. Her soapy fingers trailed lightly up and down the sides of his neck, then down his chest and back up to his shoulders. Azriel groaned as she kneaded at a particularly tense muscle between his shoulder and the base of his neck. 

She touched him as if she knew how deeply he yearned for it, as if she needed it just as much. While her hands explored his body, Azriel’s eyelids grew heavy and his lips parted. A low rumble rose up from deep in his throat.

By the time Elain’s soft voice directed him to sit back up, Azriel felt a bit groggy. She reached for the soap again, and when her hands were slathered in foamy bubbles, she cradled the back of his head, guiding him to lean forward until his cheek rested against her shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her as she began massaging his upper back, rubbing small circles into the muscles with her fingertips. He sighed and allowed his shoulders to sag as he relaxed against her. Her hands methodically worked their way down his back, and Az couldn’t decide which he craved most in that moment—the chance to make love to her again or to fall asleep in her embrace.  

“Would this be okay?” she asked as her soap-slick hands edged closer to where his wings flared out from his upper back.

Azriel went rigid—his shoulder blades tugging inward, wings clamping shut as his whole body tensed. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, he hadn’t meant to do that…

Azriel was still astonished that she cared to touch him at all, that she could find him worthy of any of it. She touched him as if every stroke of her hands spoke of unending adoration. He could feel it now, with his head on her shoulder and her hands caressing his body—he knew that she loved him. Even when his mind turned on him and doubt sank its fangs in deep, he knew it was still true from the way she touched him. 

Eventually, Azriel sat upright when Elain reached for the ceramic pitcher she kept beside the bathtub. She rose up on her knees, her breasts teasingly close to his face, and tipped his chin up with two fingers. Brushing his hair back from his forehead, she carefully poured the pitcher of warm water over his blue-black waves until they were slicked back and dripping. As she massaged a rich, soapy lather into his scalp, Azriel could feel the need building beneath his skin. He exhaled with a low hum and Elain pressed a tender kiss to his lips. There was no need for her to continue rubbing the soap into his hair, but she went on, as if she’d realized how he enjoyed it.  

She leaned forward with another gentle kiss and a soft sound escaped him as he fused his lips to hers and kissed her possessively, his hand sweeping from her thigh up to the swell of her backside. 

She returned his passionate kiss before cupping his face and holding it in place as she reluctantly withdrew from him. “I can’t take you to bed with your hair full of bubbles.”

“No?” He smirked. “Do you find the bubbles unappealing?”

“I find the bubbles most alluring.” Her voice was wholly serious, but her lips twitched into a close-mouthed grin. She kissed him again. “But I fear we’d have a dreadful night of sleep if we soak the pillows with sticky soap.”

“Hmm,” he began thoughtfully. “Then I suppose I’ll let you rinse them out before I ravish you.”

Her dark eyes sparkled. “I’ll be quick.” 

She straddled his lap until her low stomach was pressed against his cock before submerging the pitcher to fill it with water. As she shifted her body to rinse his hair, she canted against him, and Azriel had to hold himself back from pulling her firmly against him and rutting up into her. 

“Almost done,” she said as she filled the pitcher again. 

The moment she’d finished, Azriel couldn’t help himself. He took her hand and led her from the tub, carried her across the room, set her down in the middle of the wide ledge of the bathroom counter, and plunged himself into her warmth. With her legs wrapped around him and bath water dripping from their bodies to the floor, he drove his pulsing cock into her over and over as Elain moaned and dug her fingers into his back. He stole glances into the large, oval mirror behind the sink, watching how he made love to her. 

When they had both found their pleasure, Azriel carried her to the bed and they climbed beneath the covers. 

He kissed her tenderly, his hand caressing her breast before slipping between her thighs. 

Azriel. 

Rhys’s voice was suddenly in his mind and Azriel would have none of it. 

No, he said firmly, his fingers tracing slow circles over Elain’s clit. Not now, Rhys.

Where the fuck have you been, Az? 

Azriel offered no answer as he sucked at her full bottom lip. 

I need you here now. River house. My study. 

It’ll have to wait. 

This cannot wait. I need you here immediately. 

Azriel deepened the kiss and eased two fingers inside her. Elain’s answering moan went straight to his cock. She felt so good, so wet and tight against his fingers.

Unless you want me to send Elain to the Prison Island without your protection, then you’ll attend this meeting to plan for it.

Damn you, Azriel swore, but Rhys was already gone. 

Elain squeezed her legs shut and Az knew Rhys had just entered her mind. Their conversation was short, because a moment later, she sat upright and told him, “I guess this will have to wait.”

Plainly, he told her, “I have no intentions of leaving this room until you’ve been properly satisfied.”

“What about you?” 

“Later,” he said brusquely. “Now lie back down for me and let me taste you, Elain.”

Chapter Text

Azriel

Azriel landed before the grand front doors to the river house with Elain cradled in his arms. This isn’t over, he reminded himself. The meeting was a small, unwelcome interruption, and then they could retreat to her bedroom and block out the rest of the world again. 

He helped Elain to her feet, his hand lingering against her back as he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. The alluring smile she offered him made Azriel forget where he was. What they were doing.

Elain parted her wild, windswept hair into sections and swiftly began weaving them into a loose braid. She’d asked him to fly rather than winnow there, so the air and sun could dry her damp hair, but if Azriel was being honest, he’d needed the time in the air even more than she had. 

Mere minutes ago, he’d been kneeling on the rug at the side of her bed, stroking his cock as she found her bliss beneath his tongue. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her face as she lost herself to pleasure, and after the last echoes of her orgasm had quieted and he’d released his hardened length from his grasp, Elain had carded her fingers through his hair and told him, “Don’t stop.” 

“Later,” he said, sweeping his palms up and down her thighs. 

But then she eyed him with ravenous heat and said, “I’d like to see the way you touch yourself, Azriel.” 

Elain lowered herself from the bed and knelt between his spread knees, kissing him soundly, his need heightening until it was impossible for him to silence it. 

He gripped his cock and slid his fist over his length while Elain caressed him softly, her fingers dragging over the swirls of dark ink that trailed across his arms and chest, watching him raptly, uttering words of adoration as his body shuddered and he came into his hand.

So delicately, Elain had taken his closed fist in both of her hands and uncurled it, lifted it to her face, glanced up at him through the thick fringe of her lashes, and licked up his release. 

Damn him straight to hell, he didn’t think the image would ever be far from the forefront of his mind… 

As Elain plaited the long, lustrous mass of hair that draped over the front of her shoulder, Az stood behind her, grasping her hips and tenderly pressing his body to hers as he left a long, slow kiss against the exposed side of her neck. “You don’t have to rush,” he told her, rubbing circles with his thumbs against her dress, right where he knew twin indents marked her low back.

“We’re already late,” she reminded him, as if she wasn’t entirely sure whether it mattered. 

He pressed another kiss to her neck. “Don’t worry about that.”

Azriel had never once arrived late to a meeting due to reasons within his control. But today, he didn’t care. If he thought Elain would allow it, he would sit outside with her and thread flowers into her long, silky braid until she pulled him through the front door. 

After she tied a thin ribbon at the end of her hair, Azriel opened the front door, and together they entered the river house. He winnowed them directly to the study, and those sitting at the long, wooden table halted their conversations at once. 

Rhys’s nostrils flared almost immediately as he scented the air. Az felt every pair of eyes in the room swivel toward him and Elain, but he didn’t look away from his brother. Rhys met Azriel’s harsh gaze, and the heaviness he found in his brother’s eyes did not reflect anger, but severity. He knew Rhys was cataloguing every potential consequence of what he and Elain had just done. One scent of either of them would leave little doubt over what had occurred between them, and if the wrong male or female happened to catch word of it, there wasn’t much that could be done to stop the news from making its way to Lucien.

Rhys had not averted his eyes, even as Azriel’s icy glare grew sharper, but it was Elain who spoke first. 

“You were wrong to command him to stay away from me,” she said with the same gentle strength he’d always admired. He dragged a knuckle down her spine. It tugged at something in his heart to see her rise to his defense. 

Feyre’s gaze snapped to Rhys, her eyes wide with shock. 

To Elain, Rhys replied, “I know. I owe you an apology. Both of you.”

Azriel’s hand drifted to Elain’s hip and his fingers tightened against her. He needed her steadiness as his anger surged beneath his skin. Coldly, Az replied, “I don’t care to hear it.”

Rhys nodded, conceding, surely knowing no amount of persuasion could convince Azriel to back down from a grudge.  

“I want you both to know I’ll be prepared to handle any retaliation from Autumn,” he said decisively. “I’ll speak to Lucien myself while the two of you remain here in Velaris. Until then, we’ll take all measures necessary to hide this from Lucien and those who may inform him.”

“There’s no need to hide anything,” Elain said plainly, with a bitter edge to her voice. “I rejected the bond three months ago.”

Azriel’s knees nearly buckled beneath him. 

The room was a blurry, swirling haze. He fought against his lungs, trying to force his breathing into something close to a natural rhythm.

How could this be?

He needed to be alone with her. Every bit of his body was pleading to winnow her away and question her about this. 

Why hadn’t she told him? 

Azriel’s heart thundered in his head. No one spoke a word. They all sat, stunned, looking to Elain expectantly, but she remained tight-lipped and silent. 

Without a care for what anyone thought, without speaking to her own family, she’d gone through with this entirely on her own. She’d kept the secret for months. But why? He dragged his thumb intimately over the arch of her hip bone. 

Rhys gathered himself and stated, “We’ll discuss this at another time.” 

Suddenly aware he and Elain were standing in the middle of the floor while everyone else was seated, he led her over to a pair of empty chairs at the table, his arm still curved around her back. Azriel pulled one chair out for her, and then took his own, impatient and unsmiling.

With a discontented sigh, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Let’s get this over with.”

As he continued to glare at his brother, Elain’s hand found Azriel’s knee below the table, her touch tempering the unspoken rage that circled like a predator within his chest. 

Those at the table were putting considerable effort into pretending nothing was out of the ordinary. Cassian was grinning to himself and Mor was chewing on her lips and fighting a smile, as if she was holding herself back from saying something. Azriel knew the scent that clung to himself and Elain hadn’t come close to dissipating, even after the flight over.

His eyes scanned their faces, dark with a silent warning that it would be a mistake for them to voice their opinions on it. Now was not the time. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with their teasing—or even their happiness. And he didn’t want to learn from their faces whether they judged him to be an unworthy match for Elain—if any of them were lamenting that they no longer held her as a fucking bartering chip when it came to Lucien and his connections. 

Az didn’t want to be here. This meeting had interrupted his perfect morning, and his sole priority was figuring out how to ensure it concluded early so he could leave this room and have Elain to himself again.

Beside him, she sat as poised and tranquil as if she’d just joined the table for a formal dinner party. He couldn’t stop the corners of his lips from lifting into a subtle grin. So elegant. So refined… Such a contrast to how he’d had her mere minutes ago, riding his face as she came, his name a blissful cry on her lips—the way she’d moaned as her tongue slid over the ridged skin of his palm and fingers, greedily licking up his release. 

From his other side, Amren cleared her throat. Azriel didn’t acknowledge her, but promptly redirected his thoughts from the image of how fucking erotic Elain had looked as she’d taken his scarred finger into her mouth and sucked. 

“Weeks ago,” Rhys began. “Elain pinpointed the location of the legendary blade, Narben, beneath the sea off the eastern coast of the Winter Court. Her prediction was accurate. As the blade was also hidden, warded, and bespelled, obtaining it came along with many challenges, but due to my mate’s range of skills and her clever mind, we were able to retrieve it together.” He glanced toward Feyre, admiration brightening his eyes, but she returned her mate’s smile with the slightest hint of unease. 

So she hadn’t known what Rhys had done on the night of Solstice, and was pissed at him. Az held back the smirk that tugged at his lips. He didn’t doubt Feyre would corner Rhys and have it out with him the minute the meeting ended. It didn’t do anything to diminish the anger he felt towards his brother, but he took some small satisfaction in the idea that after what he’d done, Rhys would be enduring Feyre’s outrage at the same time Az would be living out his fantasies, making love to Elain in the peaceful sanctuary of her bedroom.  

Rhys continued, “In three days’ time, we’ll travel to the Prison Island—Elain with the Harp, Bryce with Gwydion, Azriel with Truth Teller, and myself with Narben. We all know how unpredictable the Harp can be, so we’ll take no chances this time.” 

The Harp, in Nesta’s hands, had undone the gates of the Prison and set Lanthys free. Nesta and Cassian had just barely escaped death that day, and now Elain would be taking her chances with it, hoping that it would somehow be more inclined to obey her. 

“It has to be sooner,” Bryce said impatiently. “I’ve been here long enough.”

She used their language effortlessly…

“A deceiver.” Azriel’s Siphons flickered menacingly. “She spoke our language all along and deluded us into thinking she could not?”

Rhys turned toward him, a tense look on his face. “While you were unreachable, we took her up north. A witch performed a complicated spell that will grant her complete fluency in our language for as long as she remains on this planet.”

“Which shouldn’t be much longer,” Bryce muttered.

“First,” Rhys began sternly. “We need to clean up the mess you’ve caused us and address the fact that most of the world believes your appearance on my doorstep to be part of some plan to seize control over Prythian and the kingdoms beyond. Second, we need time to prepare to rehome, clothe, and feed an unknown number of faeries who have been frozen in time for thousands of years. Third, Elain’s powers were strained by her last journey across the universe, which she undertook at your request. We won’t ask her to tax herself like that again, unless we’re certain she has made a complete recovery.”

“Yes,” Bryce said, sighing. “And in exchange, I’ll protect her at the Prison—we’ve been over this.”

“Then you know there’s nothing left to discuss.”

As the two eyed each other disdainfully, Feyre began, “We know there are members of the ancient Dusk Court that now reside on Midgard—some that may wish to return. But we also have reason to believe that there are others who remain trapped, frozen in a perpetual sleep within the walls of the Prison.” No one knew for certain. But it was the only theory that could explain why the very walls of the Prison echoed with life, why Nesta had seen a vision of ancient faeries being trapped behind the stone. “Freeing them will be the first step in resurrecting Prythian’s fallen court.”

Feyre and Rhys went on, explaining how it was possible that the ancient faeries might become volatile upon awakening, as their last memories would’ve been of terror and chaos. It was also unknown whether any of them would require healing or medical care. 

Their roles and responsibilities were discussed, and plans for housing and caring for the survivors were outlined. Azriel listened carefully, certain to memorize every detail of the plan, but then he felt a change in Elain—a shift in her breathing that meant she’d slipped off into the mist-veiled world of visions. 

“Stop,” he ordered, his gaze fixed on Elain. 

Her eyes met his before she allowed them to drift shut, and Azriel tightened his grip on her delicate hand. 

Her breaths came faster. Her brows creased and her full lips parted. As she squeezed his hand, he slid his thumb over her skin. He knew she didn’t like this—when her visions came to her in the middle of a crowded room. 

Slowly, Elain’s eyes blinked open and Azriel stroked her hand soothingly. Her gaze landed on Rhys, seated at the opposite side of the table. “Poison,” she said, her voice wispy and thin. “Coursing through your blood, like a dark stain bleeding through a crystal stream. Spreading like a blight through the fields.”

“You’re certain it was me in your vision?” Rhys questioned. 

Elain nodded. “You…” She turned to the side until her dark, haunted eyes found Azriel’s. “And you.”

Azriel fought off a shiver that gathered in his spine.

His face contemplative, Rhys looked down at the dark wood of the table, his wings twitching apprehensively. “Az and I will be cautious. We’ll accept no offers for food and drink outside of this court.”

Elain closed her eyes and opened them a short moment later. “It will not be enough.”

It’s okay, he wanted to tell her. We’ll figure it out together. There was no way in hell he’d let anything take him away from her now.

The meeting resumed as if Elain’s vision wasn’t looming over their heads like a heavy, black cloud, and once all questions were answered and discussion had subsided, Rhys told Azriel he was needed at the border to meet with the agents stationed there, and afterward, he was to join the search for infiltrators.

“It can wait until tomorrow,” he said with disinterest. 

“It can’t.” Rhys’s eyes softened. “Listen, Az, I'd give you this time if I could. But Autumn’s spies have been caught crossing our borders and rumors about our alliance with Bryce have begun to spread. Vicious rumors. The southern courts and the kingdoms overseas are beginning to suspect that we’re plotting to take advantage of the power we now hold. They believe that the Night Court is preparing for conquest and that I seek the title of High King. We need to put an end to this now before our allies begin turning against us.”

“Fine,” he said flatly. He extended a hand to Elain, and she laced her fingers into his.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Nesta and Feyre making their way toward their sister, but he winnowed her away before either of them could say a word or ask her to stay.

Alone in Elain’s sitting room, his chest felt instantly lighter. Azriel’s gaze slid to the ground. “I’ll take you back if you want to talk to your sisters.”

“No,” Elain said. “Not in front of everyone…”

He’d assumed as much, but he wanted to make sure he hadn’t misjudged her wishes.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay,” he said, gazing into her eyes as he tucked a loose curl behind her pointed ear. 

“Don’t worry about me.” Elain placed a hand against his low stomach and rose up on her toes to quickly press her lips to his. “You’ll find me here when you’re done?”

“I will.” He furrowed his brows. “You rejected the bond.”

Elain reached for his hand and held it with loving tenderness. “Even when I believed there could be nothing between you and I, I knew the bond was wrong for me and it was wrong for Lucien. It was bringing us nothing but misery and I wanted to weaken the influence it had over us. I wanted us both to be free from the expectations.”

“You didn’t tell anyone.”

“Up until today, I had told only Nuala and Cerridwen.”

His expression hardened. “Why?”

Elain raised her chin. “It never should’ve been a public matter to begin with.”

He couldn’t disagree. But it still didn’t sit right with him. His voice low and even, he said, “You rejected it well before we began speaking again. In all those weeks we spent together, growing closer, you never thought to tell me?”

“Azriel, at that time, I didn’t trust that you would remain interested in me, and I didn’t want to tell you and have it influence your decision. I didn’t want to worry that you felt an obligation to be with me because I rejected it.”

It was entirely his fault, but that didn’t make it sting any less. She hadn’t trusted him. She still didn’t trust him… “We were together all morning. All night. Yesterday…” The muscles of his wings drew in tighter as the walls began rising up around his heart. “After everything that happened between us, you didn’t believe this was something I should know?”

She shook her head solemnly. “Yesterday and this morning had nothing to do with the bond. Or him. Talk of this had no place in the middle of what we shared.” Her voice was soft but definitive. “Would you really have wanted me to discuss my bond to another male in the same breath I promised myself to you? To hear his name on my lips as your seed was still leaking from inside me?”

The thought of it sent Azriel’s Siphons blazing with a flare of blue light. “No,” he said quickly. He blew out a long breath, running his knuckles down her side. “No, I wouldn’t have wanted that.” 

They stood in silence, his hand tracing the side of her waist between her hip and ribs until his breaths came easier and his body relaxed into hers. 

“I promise I would have told you once everything had settled a bit between us,” she told him gently. 

“I believe you.” Azriel held her closer and dipped his head so he could better inhale her scent.

“Ever since you brought me to my bedroom, I've been consumed by you,” she said as she caressed his lower back. “I hope you will not hold it against me.”

“I won’t,” he murmured against her shoulder. “I understand now.” Azriel dragged his nose up the side of her neck. “I’ll return to you as soon as I can.”

“I’ll be waiting,” she said, as if she was already yearning for his return. 

He bent to kiss her goodbye, humming as her tongue met the sweeping passes of his own. If he didn’t leave within the next ten seconds, he would surely find himself doing whatever it took to get his head between her gorgeous legs again.

Elain

The laughter in the streets and the bright sun overhead did not match her mood. Elain usually took her time when strolling through the city of Velaris, smiling at those who passed, stopping to talk to those she recognized, admiring the quaint shops and the musicians playing their instruments. But not today. 

She could’ve sent for someone to winnow her straight to the river house, but she’d wanted the walk to cast off the restlessness that fluttered about in her stomach. When she couldn’t stand to sit alone with her fury any longer, she had made the decision to confront Rhys. And although the thought of this conversation made her insides feel as if they might slip out through her mouth and slither straight back to the town house, the feeling that had been building inside her wouldn’t allow her to turn back now.

As she neared the front porch, two dark spheres of shadow and mist shot through the front door, and from them, Cerridwen and Nuala materialized before her. Nuala met her first and pulled her into a fierce embrace. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, stepping back to assess her expression. 

“Did you know?” Elain’s voice was as tremulous as reeds in the wind. “Did you know Rhys told him to stay away from me?”

“No,” Nuala assured her. “We swear we did not. That Solstice, we’d been up before dawn with the cooking and baking, so we retired early that night and overheard no whispers of it afterward. From what we heard in the aftermath of today’s meeting, it seems clear that neither of them spoke of it with anyone.” She shifted anxiously. “There has been much discord in the river house since the two of you left…”

“You’re here to speak with him?” Cerridwen guessed. 

Elain nodded and bit her lower lip. “Before I do, I have something to ask you. Something… private.” 

Nuala’s eyes widened, guilt-stricken. “It’s normal,” she said reassuringly. “It’s different with Fae males, and it’s entirely normal for them to continue after they’ve found release, with no rest in between.” Elain tensed and looked around to ensure no one was nearby to overhear. “I’m so sorry Elain, we should’ve told you this ages ago. We know it’s not the same with human males, and we should’ve said something before you were caught completely off-guard—”

“No,” Elain cut in quickly. “That… that wasn’t a problem.” She tried to halt her mind from wandering to memories that would have her scent darkening in seconds. Her cheeks were burning but she went on. “But is it normal for there to be a golden burst of light? Something you feel and see inside you?”

Both sisters looked perplexed by the question. 

“I haven’t experienced anything like that and I haven’t heard of it, either,” Nuala said. 

“In mates,” Cerridwen began. “It is said that the mating bond is a bridge between souls that can glow golden when the two make love to each other.”

“There was no bridge,” Elain said sadly. And the golden light had appeared to her, alone. It had shone brightly just once, but sometimes she could swear she still sensed it there, somewhere deep inside her. “Would it even be possible… for one female to have two mating bonds?”

“I’ve never heard of this occurring, but that doesn’t mean it is impossible. You know what the bond feels like. Do you feel the same between yourself and Azriel?”

Elain felt a small flicker of hope blinking out. “No,” she said, distantly. “The two feel nothing alike.”

“Neither of us have found our mate, so we can’t speak to how it is to lie with him or her,” Nuala said. “Maybe someone who has found his or her mate could explain how it’s supposed to feel—if a flash of gold is a part of it.” 

Elain was unsure whether Nuala was making some attempt to preserve her hope, or if she truly thought it would be worthwhile to take the embarrassing question to her sisters. 

“Perhaps what you felt could’ve been an awakening of new powers?” suggested Cerridwen. “Sometimes the first time an untapped power makes itself known is during a time of powerful emotion.”

Elain blushed again. That was certainly possible. A new power… yes, that was exactly what she needed when she hardly knew how to manage the first… 

Gold. Perhaps her power was gold, to match Nesta’s silver…

“Do you know where I might find Rhys?” she asked. 

The two sisters informed her that Rhys was alone in his study and offered to accompany her there. They linked arms with Elain and used their magic to walk her through the front door, without bothering to open it.

When they reached the study, Nuala and Cerridwen left her with a hug and a promise to visit once she had made it back to the town house. 

Elain knocked against the door—three gentle taps. She frowned. She should’ve made them louder. More forceful. To match the feeling that burned furiously within her. It was far too natural for Elain to make herself small and quiet, polite and unobtrusive. Especially in situations such as this. 

“Come in,” came Rhys’s voice from inside.

Elain knew it was a bad sign when her body ran hot with anger while her eyes threatened to fill with tears. A single word had yet to leave her mouth, and she was already floundering, nearly overwhelmed by feelings that fought to escape her.

She swallowed. “Azriel may not want to hear your apology, but I do.”

“I take it you already know that I came across you and Azriel in the foyer on Solstice night and told him to stay away.”

Elain responded with one shallow nod of her head. 

“I will not make excuses for what I’ve done.” His voice was weary and remorseful. “I was wrong, and I’m sorry, Elain.”

She shook her head. “How could you? Why would you do that to him? To me?”

Rhys’s solemn eyes became shaded with sorrow. “This past Solstice, I was lost. I had never been so deeply lost and desperate as I was then. I could not imagine shouldering both the impending death of my mate as well as Azriel risking his own life in a duel to claim you. It was too much for me. I knew I couldn’t hold myself together while managing the upheaval of my court and our alliances at the same time. I was not thinking rationally, and I regret the way I handled things that night.”

A wave of sadness swept through Elain as she remembered the constant fear that had shadowed her after learning of the risks to her sister and the tiny baby still in her womb. “I understand why you were struggling, and I have nothing but sympathy for the pain you carried and everything you went through, Rhys. I do. You know I do. I was there.”

She had comforted both Rhys and Feyre, prayed with them, cried with them, had tried to lift their spirits in any little way she could. And all the while, he’d never once thought to confess to what had happened that night.

“But you must’ve known I was hurt and heartbroken, with no explanation, no closure. You didn’t tell me what had happened, and you’d forbidden Azriel from getting near enough to tell me. But you should’ve spoken to me. I can’t think of any reason why you didn’t address us both that night… unless you believe that I am unable to grasp such things? Do you find me so simpleminded that you didn’t think I would’ve comprehended the issues if you’d sat down with me and explained why you’d interfered?”

Rhys shook his head. “No, that wasn’t why I left you out of it, Elain. I was angry. I was furious at fate for putting Feyre’s life in danger while leaving me powerless to help her, and I was angry at the potential of having yet another disastrous situation on my hands. I regret that my anger fell upon Azriel. But I left you out of it because I didn’t want to unleash it upon you.”

“You should have,” she said. “I was just as responsible for what you witnessed in the foyer.” Rhys remained silent and Elain continued. “I can understand that in the moment, you had been overwhelmed. I do not hold that against you at all. But long afterward, when the terror had passed and peace had returned, did you not see what you’d done to him? The way exhaustion and despair clung to him, the dark circles beneath his eyes, his isolation. I don’t know what was discussed after you called him away that night, but whatever you said to him changed everything.”

“If he has not told you of our conversation, I will not repeat it,” he said, looking especially grim. “I regret the way I spoke to him. I know my words affected him deeply. I did attempt to speak to him afterwards, once Nyx was born and everything had settled, but by then it was too late. He refused to hear what I had to say. And maybe I shouldn’t have given up so easily. But when Azriel decides to shut someone out, it’s nearly impossible to get through to him. And I regret to say, it was too easy to put the situation aside when I had my concerns for both of you, especially because of your bond to Lucien.”

“The bond means nothing to me.”

“I know. I know that now.”

After a moment of silence, Elain went on, “He’s your brother, Rhys. You have to keep trying.” Rhys nodded and she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “But it goes far beyond this. Azriel kills and tortures and runs himself ragged for you. Do you not see what it does to him? Do you not notice that he returns from the Hewn City and has to completely numb himself or hide himself away in order to go about his day afterwards?” She hadn’t intended on taking it this far, but she couldn’t help the way the words had tumbled from her mouth.

“Azriel has never expressed dissatisfaction with the work he does.”

“Of course he hasn’t.” Her blood pumped so quickly, Elain felt herself losing her grasp on her own restraint. “He hasn’t spoken a word to me about it either, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t obvious. He won’t tell you and he won’t tell me, because he feels his worth lies in what he can do for everyone else. But I see how it tears him apart, and as his brother, I thought you could see it too.”

Rhys’s eyes churned and Elain knew he was facing difficult truths he’d likely shoved aside for decades. “If I attempt to alter his role in this court, he will only see it as an insult to his competence. Especially now. I will try to talk with him about it once he calms down, but he is… unlikely to be receptive to anything I suggest.”

Elain frowned. She knew this was true. No matter how much Azriel currently suffered, she could still imagine the way he would insist on leaving his responsibilities unchanged. She worried that he would rather continue to torment himself in his current role than abandon his work in the dungeons while having to wonder whether the decision spoke of some intrinsic weakness, or failure, or unworthiness. 

Rhys didn’t meet her eyes as he asked, “Do you think he’ll forgive me?”

Elain’s shoulders sagged. “Not any time soon.” Softly, she told him, “I wish it could’ve been different. I wish you would’ve told me… and we could’ve figured this out together.” Everything could’ve been so different if he’d called them both aside on Solstice night…

“I’ve been trying to reach him,” Rhys said, turning his focus toward the future. “Ever since the night at the Library. He refuses to speak to me and I don’t know how to convince him to give me a chance to apologize.”

Elain thought. “Don’t push him, but don’t give up,” she said before adding, “And don’t lose your temper with him.” Nothing would cause him to close himself off faster.

“I’m thankful he has you,” Rhys told her. Elain guessed at everything he wasn’t saying—that even while he was lamenting what had happened between them, he was glad that Azriel had finally let someone get close to him, that he had someone to confide in. Elain’s thoughts drifted to Azriel’s beautiful face, to how he made her feel.

“I’m thankful to have him.” 

After Elain had left Rhys’s study and was making her way toward the front door, Feyre spotted her from down a corridor. She called out to Elain and hurried over to embrace her, her sister’s tattooed arms wrapping around her with a tight squeeze. 

“I hope you tore into him,” Feyre said bluntly.

Elain could only offer a pinched, half-smile. She wasn’t ready to laugh about this yet. 

“I’m happy for you,” her sister told her. “For Azriel, too.”

She smiled sincerely this time. “Thank you.”

Feyre’s blue-gray eyes turned curious. “How long has this been going on?”

“A long time.” Elain ran her fingers down the bottom half of her braid. “We knew we couldn’t act on our feelings so we kept them hidden.”

“Elain, I hope you know you don’t have to hide anything from me. If you’d told me, I would’ve been by your side. I would’ve helped both of you through this.”

Elain had no doubt she would have. But that hadn’t been the reason she’d kept the secret from either of her sisters. “You don’t confide in me, either,” Elain said delicately. “I don’t see how this is any different.”

It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to. For so long, Elain had felt overwhelmed by the vulnerability of sharing her feelings with her sisters, not wanting to expose her sensitivity, fearing that it would only encourage them to see her as fragile and helpless.

A disheartened frown settled onto Feyre's face. “I’m still sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

Elain shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You couldn’t have known.” She forced herself to meet Feyre’s gaze as she said, “I hope that it can be different in the future. Between the three of us.” She wasn’t sure how to break the pattern of distance they’d fallen into, but she did hope they would find a way, in time. 

“I do, too,” Feyre said, as if she wanted it just as much, but was equally unsure of where to begin.

The question arose from the back of her mind—about the golden flash of light, and Elain supposed now was as good a time as any…

“I have something to ask you,” Elain started.

Feyre looked at her with concern before nodding quickly. 

“When you…” Elain bit her bottom lip anxiously. “Has there ever been…” She smiled politely. “Never mind. I should be going,” she concluded suddenly, in disbelief she’d nearly asked her own sister such a question. Really, she would be less mortified asking the question to any one of the elderly females she visited when helping with their gardens. 

“Is everything alright?” Feyre asked. 

“Yes,” she said lightly. “I’m fine.”

And she was, even without asking her question to her sisters or to the elderly faeries. Elain let her curiosity fizzle out as she put the concern behind her. 

There was nothing she would change. Nothing she wanted for. It didn’t matter what the golden light was, or what it was not. Her heart was full, and the sudden flare of light was insignificant when compared to the joy that shone so brightly inside her when she considered the future.

Chapter Text

Azriel

Azriel woke, bleary-eyed and tranquil, with his cheek pressed to Elain’s chest and her fingers entwined in his hair. The steady beating of her heart was a lovely rhythm beneath his ear—a bridge between sleep and a reality that was far better than a dream.  

He would stay here, just like this, until her eyelids blinked open, for each time Elain woke, she would smile and her eyes would shine with a lovely softness upon realizing he was with her. He couldn’t risk missing it. 

Without warning, an unexpected jolt of alarm crashed through him. 

Fuck. 

How long had he…

His gaze shot to the small clock that sat atop Elain’s nightstand and he eased out a breath. Not as bad as he’d feared—as long as he moved quickly, he needn’t worry about falling behind in his plans for the day.

It hadn’t been his intention to let sleep draw him back down into its grasp. He and Elain had risen early and made love as the first light of day filtered in through her sheer, gauzy curtains, and afterward, he’d closed his eyes for a moment as she ran her fingers through his hair. That was all it took to lull him into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. 

In an attempt to rise from the bed without waking her, Azriel carefully slid his hands out from where he’d tucked them beneath her shoulder blades, but at the very second he pressed his palms into the mattress and lifted himself off of her, she began to stir.

He kept still, waiting to see if she would drift back into her slumber, but he wasn’t disappointed when she did not, for he was presented with the gorgeous smile he’d been anticipating. With a sleepy sigh, she looped her arms around his neck and Azriel lowered himself until his body was covering hers once more. 

“And where do you think you’re going so early?” she asked in a honeyed voice. 

Reluctantly, he told her, “I have to meet with Dawn’s spymaster.”

Elain looked up at him with enough sadness in her eyes that it made his heart twist. “You hadn’t mentioned it.”

“I’m sorry,” he told her regretfully. “I fear it must’ve slipped my mind.” He lowered his face so he could press his lips against the inner curve of her breast. “I’ve been terribly distracted.”

At that, her smile finally returned and she made a small, contented sound as she began slowly combing her fingers through his hair.

Azriel closed his eyes at the blissful feel of her nails gliding over his scalp, and offered the words, “Pack what you need for an overnight stay.”

“May I ask why?” she asked sweetly, running her hands down his shoulders and along the backs of his arms with sensual fluidity. Azriel fought the glaring need to tuck his face into the crook of her neck and rut into her. If she kept this up, he’d never make it through the door…

He raised his head from her chest. “I’m taking you to the Dawn Court with me,” he said through the misty haze of desire that was quickly and thoroughly seducing his senses. “I’ll get the meeting out of the way, and then you and I will have what remains of the day afterward. We’ll return home tomorrow in the early afternoon.”

Happiness brightened the entirety of her face, and her beauty stole the breath from his lungs. “I would love to go to Dawn with you,” she said, her voice soft and lovely. 

Azriel smiled, sincerely and open-heartedly, before capturing her lips with a languorous kiss. With every time she’d asked about his travels and had listened, mesmerized by his detailed descriptions of landscapes and cities, he had prayed to the Mother for this. 

They bathed quickly and packed what was necessary for an overnight stay. Once they’d finished, shadows swept in to transport their luggage. Before leaving the Night Court behind, Azriel winnowed them both into town for a quick breakfast at one of Elain’s favorite restaurants.

It was a breezy morning, the sky a patchwork of blue sky and clouds, so they chose to eat at one of the small, wrought iron tables on the patio just outside the back of the building. 

Halfway through their meal, in the middle of conversation, Elain slipped away into a trance, her eyes going glassy and gray until she closed them completely. Azriel waited, not moving an inch until her eyes blinked open and lucidity returned to her completely. 

“Fionn… the High King…” she began, her voice subdued. “The stories are wrong… He was not killed by his queen. He is the one who trapped the Fae in the walls of the Prison.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed. “He betrayed his own people?”

“No.” A quick shake of her head. “He saved them. As many as he could.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, her face contemplative. “That part came to me in pieces… I saw Fionn strumming the Harp, Fae locked away in the Prison walls, and then tears of sorrow and joy—his people weeping as peace returned to the land.”

As they mulled the vision over in silence, Elain gazed over the vibrant landscaping that surrounded the circular, stone patio, her eyes narrowing as they snagged upon a particular area of the garden. “Azriel… Do you see the bushy plants over there?”

He turned his attention to the corner of the garden that had captured her interest. “I do see them.”

“There are four of them,” she said with a tilt of her head. “But this is one of the gardens I helped repair two summers ago. And we only planted three.”

Azriel took a sip of his tea. “Do you believe someone planted another recently?”

“No. I still check in with the owners to see if they need any help with the garden, and no one planned to add anything new here this year. Besides, they’re baptisia, and this new one is just as large as the others—larger even, and I don’t see why anyone would take the chance of severing the taproot to move a mature plant, not when adding the fourth only makes them look crowded.” She frowned at the leafy bushes. “It’s odd. I can’t think of an explanation for it.” She gave the garden one last disconcerted look and then resumed cutting into her pancake. 

Azriel brought a neatly cut portion of omelette to his mouth and halted, the fork hovering just before his lips.  

Dammit. The fourth bush—it was a spy from Autumn. A Phyllonian. A lesser faerie that could transform into a shrub or plant at will. With their willowy limbs and placid demeanor, they were poor warriors, but their other abilities made them exceptionally valuable to Beron. 

Sighing, Azriel set his food-laden fork onto his plate with a clink of metal on porcelain. He would have to apprehend and question him. But not until Elain had finished with her breakfast. As she ate what remained of her pancake and mixed berries, he was sure to divert their conversation away from anything he wouldn’t want overheard. Phyllonians had excellent hearing and could process multiple conversations at once. 

Elain had just told him that something was amiss, and the agent had certainly heard her. If Az left to winnow her back to the townhouse, the spy could shift and run off in the time it would take him to return. 

As Elain folded her napkin and set it on the table, he told her, “I want you to get a head start to Ambretta’s. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.” 

They had no plans to stop at the tea shop. His gaze flicked up to hers, hopeful his weighted look would signal that something was wrong here—that he wanted her to remain a safe distance away while he took care of it. The perplexed look on her face gave way to understanding as she pushed her chair back with a coarse scrape against the flagstone beneath. 

Leaving his napkin beside his plate, Azriel rose to meet Elain at the opposite side of the table and gave her a quick, but affectionate kiss. Her delicate hand slipped from his and Az watched as she walked away, not taking his eyes off her until she’d passed through the restaurant’s turquoise-painted door and disappeared from sight. 

He strode to the low, iron fence that bordered the garden and stepped over it, mindful to avoid crushing any of the flowers. Unsheathing Truth Teller, Azriel’s eyes narrowed as he approached the disguised male. “I know what you are,” he said, his voice a bored, discontented monotone. “My orders are simple. Shift and do as I say, or I’ll kill you where you stand.”

Green leaves began to quiver, and stems grew and fused as the male’s true form began to take shape. With his transformation nearly complete, Azriel grasped his arm roughly and winnowed them both onto the patio.

Scowling, Azriel retreated a step and flung a writhing mass of shadows at him, the dark tendrils wrapping around his ankles, binding them together while the others encircled his wrists and secured them behind his back. The male lost his balance, wobbling gracelessly before falling to his knees with a low grunt. 

Elain would be pleased to know the flowers remained unscathed. The thought brought a quick smirk to his face.

The patio was empty now, as the last of the patrons were scurrying through the back door to escape the violence that would likely follow.

Azriel wasted no time as he confiscated two short daggers—one strapped to each of the agent's thighs—and carelessly tossed them to the side, the pair of weapons clattering as they skidded over the stone. At his order, shadows gathered in twin pools that engulfed the daggers and carried them elsewhere. The male wouldn’t be getting them back.

He sent the same shadows slithering to the Autumn male, coiling around him and heaving him into a nearby iron chair, before securing him tightly to it. With slow steps, Azriel approached the spy and held Truth Teller to his green-skinned throat. 

“I have a few questions for you,” he began, with cool indifference shading his voice. “You would be smart to answer them, as I’m sure you’re aware I have other ways of persuading you to speak.”

The agent’s face was set in an expression of defiance, even as his long limbs trembled. “If I confess anything to you, then Beron will surely kill me when I return. I’d rather die a martyr than a traitor.”

“Hmm. You do realize that Beron will only know of your betrayal if you confess to it yourself… or if I do,” he began smoothly. “Tell him I found you and decided to make you my messenger—that I sent you back to convey the order that Beron should remove his spies from Velaris, unless he’d prefer to face retaliation from the Night Court. If you answer my questions, this ends and no harm will come to you. Beron need not know the details of our conversation.”

The male turned his gaze to the ground, squirming anxiously in the iron chair. Az saw the expression upon his face and knew it well—he was struggling to decide upon his next step, was already considering giving in to his demands. As he’d predicted, this would be over quickly. If the male didn’t break right away, a few slow, carefully placed incisions would be enough to sway him. 

“Beron knows of my methods,” he went on. “Your skin does not yet bear the telling marks of my interrogation. He may not suspect anything if you speak before I decide to change that.”

Nothing. The male remained tense and tight-lipped. 

Azriel frowned. “You see, I’m running on a tight schedule this morning. My female is anticipating my arrival, and I don’t intend to keep her waiting,” he said. 

Silence. 

The male had run out of time. 

Azriel angled Truth Teller against his cheek, the edge of the blade barely biting into his skin. The agent winced and closed his eyes.

Just then, a shadow darted up to his ear.

She has returned. 

Elain was suddenly behind him. She’d approached so silently, he’d barely heard her while preoccupied with Beron’s spy. 

“My love,” he greeted her, in a silkened voice that contrasted sharply to the cold indifference he’d saved for the male. “I was not expecting your return.” 

With wary eyes, her gaze slid to the Autumn Court spy. “That male possesses an item that looks like a pen, but it can be triggered to release a cloud of toxic powder; he plans to use it when you release him. It would render you unconscious and erase your memory of the past hour.”

Azriel’s brows rose—all the surprise he would let himself show as he began to consider how he would make the agent pay for his deception. “And where is he hiding this?”

“In the satchel attached to his belt.”

Slack-jawed and wide eyed, the male looked between the two of them, staring. 

“Thank you, my love,” Azriel told Elain as he sheathed his blade. One step toward her, and he was lacing his fingers into her hair, drawing her into an indulgent kiss. The sweet taste of maple syrup lingered in her mouth. 

Delicious… always so delicious… 

He sucked at her lower lip, releasing it only so he could address the male. “Such a remarkable talent she has,” he stated smugly. “Wouldn’t you agree?” His hand still buried in her hair, Azriel stroked her scalp with his thumb, meeting her gaze with eyes that simmered with desire and admiration. “Is he concealing anything else?” 

Elain’s eyelids drifted shut, and when she looked back up at him, she gave one subtle shake of her head. 

“Wait for me at the tea shop,” he said, raising her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss against her knuckles. “I won’t be much longer.” He turned toward the Autumn Court male with a look that promised pain.

As he drew Truth Teller from its scabbard, Azriel’s insides went quiet, blanketed in cold and calm. The sounds of the city faded away until his focus was honed in on nothing but the blade in his hand and the information he had to uncover. The male begged him to wait, and Az fought to block out the awful stench of fear that emanated from him. Now that the spy was overcome with panic, Azriel would offer him one last chance to cooperate, and then he would begin. 

But Elain… Elain had not left. 

A fissure spread through the silent, empty void in his chest as he glanced back to find her eyes shut as she looked inward, summoning her power.

Her rosy, full lips parted as she began to speak, her hushed voice putting an end to the agent’s pleading. “There is a female who awaits you in a small house near a shallow stream, beneath the canopy of a sycamore tree. She fears for your safety… as she always does when you’re away. She watches over a young boy with olive green skin and deep brown hair, just like yours. His eyes are golden, like hers. He plays with a set of wooden animals. Two tiny squirrels, a chipmunk, and a rabbit.” Her lips curved into a slight smile at the scene she saw unfolding from the center of that mysterious window within her mind. Slowly, her eyes flickered back open.

“Elain Archeron,” the male said with a mix of awe and surprise as he looked her up and down with disbelief. “The Night Court’s seer.”

“Talk to him,” she said soothingly. “And give them a chance to see you again.” 

Azriel understood. This was no vision of the future. She had used her power to locate what family the male had, to get beneath his skin with something personal, to remind him of what he stood to lose. His knife would be quicker, but he would see where this led.  

With a guarded expression hardening his features, the male turned to Elain. “Use your power, then, and tell me—if I do as you say, will Beron spare my life?” 

Azriel’s anger rose up and coiled in his gut. Bearing no evidence of his temper, he firmly asserted, “You’re in no position to make demands of her.”

Elain’s voice remained gentle and soft as she told him, “I don’t need to use my power to know that Azriel will kill you if you refuse to answer him, and your life will end here this morning. If you cooperate, then you will at least have a chance of going home to your wife and child. Isn’t that a chance worth taking?”

The Autumn Court agent seemed to have given up on retaining any illusion of calm or control. “How do I know you two won’t kill me once I’ve told you everything you want to know, and deliver the message to Beron yourselves?”

Azriel shrugged carelessly. “My lover would prefer to see you live. She is troubled by the idea of a child needlessly robbed of his father. And I am currently inclined to keep you alive because it would please her. But if you attempt to give her orders again, I will slit your throat and feel no remorse about it.” Though the male wore at his patience, his voice remained impassive with the same icy disinterest. “This is your final chance. If you want to live, then tell us why you were sent here.”

The male winced and quietly forced out the words, “To listen for gossip involving the Starborn Princess.”

Azriel’s shadows confirmed that it was the truth. “For what purpose?”

The spy swallowed. “To assess whether she poses any threat to the Autumn Court.”

A lie, his shadows murmured. Azriel shook his head. “Try again.”

“He can tell when you lie,” Elain said, her eyes still tender with sympathy. “And he’s run out of patience with you. Just a bit more, and this will all be over.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, the male exhaled with a great heave. “Beron seeks to form an alliance with her.”

“Why?” Azriel asked dryly.

“I don’t know!” His voice broke as his head bowed down toward his chest, dark hair falling over his eyes. “I swear I don’t know.”

Truth, came the airy whisper of a shadow that perched upon his shoulder.  

“Go straight to Beron,” he commanded. “Tell him to pull his spies from this court. You have twenty-four hours to retreat from our territory. After that, Elain will locate any remaining agents with her power and I will slaughter them on sight.” He called to his shadows and they released the male before returning to circle at Azriel’s feet. “Go.”

“I thank you for your mercy,” the spy said feebly, his gratitude directed more toward Elain than himself. 

Together, they stood in silence, watching the green-skinned male as he fled. 

Elain’s eyes were troubled. Whether she worried herself over what would become of the male, or the potential fallout of Beron discovering she had taken a lover that was not his seventh son, he did not know. Any plans Beron once had to take advantage of Elain and Lucien’s mating were now spoiled, and it was impossible to guess how he would react upon receiving the news. Az would send his best agents to learn what might be discovered in the Autumn Court, and he would spare no effort in ensuring Elain’s safety. 

But for right now, he didn’t know why her heart was aching, only that it was, so when the spy was no longer in sight, Azriel took her hand and poured comfort and strength into his touch, as his fingers tightened around hers and his thumb traced smooth strokes over her hand. It was a language they both understood. A moment apart from the rest of the world, still and silent, even while the bustling city moved and breathed around them. Peace descended upon them both and settled in slowly. 

“Why did you stay?” he finally asked, when Elain suggested they move on before it got too late. She could’ve left after she’d delivered her warning, when he’d promised to meet her at the tea shop.

She turned toward him. “I was curious to see if I could alter his fate.”

Azriel stiffened. “I killed him, then,” he stated tonelessly, as a wave of bitter cold rose up inside his stomach, swelling and roiling until he felt he’d be sick from it. The male was the unfortunate victim and Elain had been his rescuer. Azriel—with his ancient blade, his shadows, and cruel, emotionless eyes—had been the heartless executioner. That was how she saw it. And he didn’t fault her for it. 

“I saw him die beneath your knife, yes,” she confirmed, her voice serene and gentle as always, “just after I had the vision of his hidden weapon.” Azriel swallowed, shoving down the voice that reminded him this was inevitable—that she would eventually see him for the monster he was. Even more softly, Elain added, “I’d hoped that it might be a relief for you… if I could find a way to spare you from having to take his life.”

In the span of one breath, the tension drained from his face as his ironclad defenses crumbled. She had done it for him. To help ease the burden on his heart…

In the space created by his silence, Elain went on, “When you return from the Hewn City, you don’t seem like yourself—I see it in your eyes, in the way your shoulders tighten and the way your spirit seems muted.” She had noticed. All along. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but it moved him all the same. “You feel so far away on those days,” she said with sorrowful eyes, “and I didn’t want you to be pulled away from me today.” 

He pressed his lips to hers with a delicate caress of a kiss, followed quickly by another, just as sweet, just as soft, before he wrapped her in his arms. 

“I thank you for it. For all of it.” She returned his embrace as he held her close and savored her warmth. “Let’s not linger here,” he said. “We have much that lies ahead of us today.”

Elain

As Azriel bent low and gathered her into his arms, Elain allowed herself one deep inhale of his rich, woodsy scent before he winnowed them into the sky, high above the ridges of mountain peaks and dense woodlands that spanned the southern border of the Dawn Court. She clung to him, smiling during the free fall, before his massive wings stretched wide and leveled out, sending them soaring along with the prevailing winds.

Adrenaline still pumping fiercely, her eager gaze scanned the jagged mountains and miles of forest until she saw something that made the world go still around her. Elain blinked as if to clear her eyes, to make sure she hadn’t imagined it. 

“Azriel,” she breathed, her eyes wide with wonder. “A real waterfall…”

“Is it still true that you haven’t seen one?” he asked, shifting the angle of his outstretched, leathery wings to begin their descent. 

A tender smile took shape upon her face. “I have not.” She had told him once, of her desire to visit a waterfall. It stunned her that he would’ve remembered such a trivial confession after all this time; she’d mentioned it well over a year ago, as they’d worked side by side in the town house garden, when he’d asked her to tell him of something she wished for, something that no one else knew. 

“You’ll be late,” she fretted.

With a sly grin, Azriel shook his head. “Not when this was always part of my plan.”

Her heart shining from within her chest, Elain leaned in to press a delighted kiss against the side of his beautiful, self-satisfied face. 

The powerful sound of steady, cascading water grew louder as they closed the distance to the lofty canopy of trees below them. With admirable precision, Azriel carefully descended through a gap in the branches until they landed in the middle of a small, majestic clearing.

As Elain took in all that surrounded them, her mind went still and her lips parted in awe. Never before had she seen a place of such beauty. From high above, a long column of water poured down into a deep pool that reflected the blue of the skies and the green of the lush foliage that surrounded it. The tall, concave slope of the cliff face stood as a backdrop behind it. A wandering, glowing orb caught her attention, but with a better look, Elain realized it was a squirrel with a caramel brown coat, haloed with a constant, golden ring of light. 

The entire clearing was flourishing with life. Iridescent orange and yellow dragonflies flitted and hovered near ferns that grew beyond the pebbled edges of the shore. Bordering a sparkling stream that spilled from the plunge pool, lovely masses of wildflowers were in bloom, all in shades of light pink and apricot, dappled in sunlight that filtered through the leafy canopy of towering trees above them. 

Azriel stooped to collect one flower with blush pink petals before tucking it into her hair, just behind her ear. Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled Elain in against his side and bent his head to rest his cheek against her temple as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. 

“Thank you,” she said with depthless sincerity. 

“I want to show you more than this—beautiful places, wildflower meadows, secluded lakes, colorful cities… anywhere you dream of going—I’ll take you there.” 

Her heart was spilling over. “I would love nothing more than to see the world with you, Azriel.” More beautiful destinations such as this… as she drank in the enchanting wilderness that surrounded her, she could hardly imagine what else could compare. “I would stay here for days, if I could…” she told him dreamily. 

A regretful frown appeared upon Azriel’s elegant face. “I apologize, but we cannot stay much longer. The delay with the Autumn Court bastard consumed too much time to allow for the plans I had for you here.”

At the blatant heat that began to kindle in the gold of his eyes, Elain smiled coyly and slowly ran one hand over his sculpted chest, dragged it down further, before skimming her knuckle back and forth over his stomach, just above his belt. She could feel his hard muscles contract beneath his fighting leathers, could hear the change in his breathing as it grew shallow. “I find myself very curious to know the details of these plans of yours,” she crooned sweetly.  

The corner of Azriel’s mouth tugged up into a seductive grin. “Is that so?” he asked, eyes transfixed upon her lips.  

“Mhmm.” She looked up at him with innocent eyes and a devious smile as she went on caressing his low stomach. “It would please me ever so greatly if you would tell me.” Elain wished to reach lower, until she was cupping the enticing bulge that strained against his leathers. She wished for much more than that… 

His fingers trailed delicately down her spine as he  brought his lips to her ear. “For months, I’ve imagined bringing you here, pressing your palms against the rock face over there.” She followed his gaze to the place where the edge of the shore met the banded layers of stone that rose up behind the falls. “I would drop to my knees before you so I could worship your body with my hands, my shadows, my mouth, my tongue… until your cries of pleasure rivaled the roar of the falling water.” Elain clung to every word as Azriel spoke, her body growing eager for the satisfaction he promised. “And then,” he continued, “once your legs were trembling too much to stand, I would carry you to the meadow and lay you down on a blanket. I’d make love to you there, slowly, so thoroughly, that there could never again be any sliver of doubt that you are mine and I am yours.”

“Soon?” she said almost dazedly, fully aware he could scent exactly how much she yearned for him, for the joining he’d painted into her mind. 

“Soon,” he swore resolutely. 

Curiosity snaked about within her. “You fantasized of me often?”

He pressed a lingering kiss against the side of her throat. “Every night, Elain.”

A wave of need built between her legs as she imagined him lying in his bed, pleasuring himself to fantasies of her. Elain’s cheeks flushed a shade of rosy pink as she confessed, “I thought of you, too.”

“Did you?” he asked seductively as he returned to her neck, trailing soft kisses down toward her shoulder.

“Constantly…” Biting her lip, Elain leaned into his strong frame, her neck arching as his mouth pulled against her skin. “Often more than once a day…”

“Fuck, Elain…” His entire body tensed as he tightened his grip on her hips, his harsh breaths warm against her neck. “I want you to tell me how you imagined us,” he demanded, his voice deep with an intensity that weakened her knees. “I want to know exactly how you envisioned me satisfying you. Not now. Not when there isn’t time for me to please you in the way that I want to. But very soon. I want you to tell me everything.” He leaned back until she could see the unyielding sincerity in his eyes. 

“I will,” she said, her gaze hungrily following her own thumb as she slid it over the seam of his lips. 

Azriel’s mouth parted as his eyes drifted shut. “We’ll return,” he told her gently. “Soon.” 

Nodding slowly, Elain took a deep breath as she stifled the heat of desire that coursed wildly through her veins, and allowed herself one last indulgent look at the exquisite beauty that surrounded her, as if she could draw in some of its magic and carry it with her.

“Would you like me to take you into the middle of the city,” he asked, “or would you like to get some sleep in our room?” 

Elain caught the way he looked into her eyes with an attentive softness, and she knew he was recalling the way visions had disrupted her sleep throughout the night. Each time she’d awoken with a pounding heart and a head full of torturous, racing thoughts, he’d pulled her in against his chest and slowly caressed her back with his beautiful hands until sleep had welcomed her back into its dark embrace. 

“I would love to see the city,” she answered. It would be an awful shame to sleep through her very first opportunity to discover the unique sights and experiences the Dawn Court might hold. 

Azriel gave a quick nod. “I’ll leave you in the finest quarter of the market. Though I’m afraid it will pale in comparison to the pleasure I could give you here, with my hands on your skin and my mouth between your legs… but I hope you’ll find it to be an enjoyable way to pass the time until I return.” 

Elain smiled candidly, enamored with the glint of unabashed confidence and humor in his eyes. “I’m certain you’re correct. I can’t imagine any market, no matter how grand, could compare with the things you’re capable of with that sinful mouth of yours.” Her gaze fixed upon that very same mouth, which had indeed shown her bliss beyond what she’d imagined to be possible. “But I’m sure I can make my time there more interesting by passing through the market while envisioning the ways I might like to use my own mouth to pleasure you.”

Azriel made a low sound that was so erotic it awoke a deep, aching need inside her. “My beautiful temptress…” came his smooth, dark voice. “Do you realize how difficult it will be to sit through this meeting, trying to clear my mind of what you just said… to think of anything that isn’t you walking through the city while fantasizing of the ways you want to please me…” He took in a shuddering breath. “I will not apologize for the male I become when I get you alone tonight,” he said before running his tongue over the outer edge of her ear. Elain moaned as he took her earlobe between his lips, slowly running his teeth across it as he released it from his mouth. “You make me absolutely ravenous.”

She kneaded her fingers into the muscled flesh of his lower back. “However you want me tonight, you will have me.”

Azriel kissed her, with a sensuous meeting of their lips and a demanding sweep of his tongue into her mouth. “You make it unbearable to part from you,” he said as he reluctantly took a step back from her, taking both of her hands in his. “Let’s get this over with then.”

In seconds, they were standing at the end of a quiet alley, overlooking a market square that was erupting with color, from the covered booths and the layered robes donned by most of the faeries who milled about the heart of the city. 

The rows of stalls were bedecked in jewel toned fabrics—ruby, aquamarine, sapphire, and amethyst among them. Most were embellished with gold in the form of tassels or table runners or painted wooden posts that propped up vibrant fabric canopies. In the center of the square was an enormous tiered fountain, stunningly carved from a light colored stone with a faint sheen that reflected delicate pastel colors, much like an opal. 

“Dawn is known for its innovation and metalwork,” Azriel told her, “and you’ll find many fascinating clockwork creations and finely crafted jewelry here.” 

They paused briefly at a few displays of clothing and soaps before he led her to a merchant’s stand near the dazzling stone fountain. Displayed upon a table draped with royal purple silk, were rows of tiny, metal creatures, sculpted in fine detail in shades of brass and silver. Elain’s eye was drawn to a brass spider, with spindly, jointed legs. “Each of them has a key,” Azriel said, “and if you wind it up, gears and mechanisms inside will make it move, without any magic at all.”

Elain picked up the spider, and as she twisted the turn key, she could hear the ticking and spinning of the small parts inside it. With no surface to walk upon, its legs waved uselessly in the air. With a casual grin on his face, Azriel turned to survey the clockwork creations on display. He reached for a small, metal box with intricate designs etched into the silver frame, and opened it to find a metal bird inside of it. The bird was suspended by fine metal rods, and when he turned the key at the back of the box, the bird bobbed up and down as its wings folded and extended, flapping up and down in a flawless imitation of flight. Lifting it carefully, he inspected it with a look of pure concentration, his face contemplative and scrutinizing, as if trying to discern how it worked—what exactly was inside of it. He held it closer to his face, trying to peek through the tiny gaps in the base that gave space for the movement of thin metal bars that connected to the body of the bird. Elain tucked away her amusement. 

Azriel gently returned the box to the silk-covered table and said, “I’ll send my shadows to find you as soon as the meeting ends, and I’ll meet you wherever you are.”

He did not hesitate as he leaned down to kiss her goodbye, even as a busy crowd of faeries strolled around them. In truth, he kissed her as if they weren’t there at all. Azriel’s lips were fully pressed to hers as he was enveloped in darkness, unwilling to part from her before his shadows sent him away. With the warmth of his full mouth still clinging to her lips, Elain surveyed the vendors and shops that filled the market square, as well as those that lined the city streets. 

She easily filled the time, drifting from one stall to the next, appreciating the arrays of skillfully crafted merchandise. The wares and food were far different from what existed in Velaris. Elain couldn’t help but wonder how the other courts compared, what novel items they offered.  

And just as she’d suggested to Azriel, she did indeed imagine the many ways she would like to pleasure him, her body growing needier the longer she allowed her thoughts to roam freely. Though she also found herself contemplating his reluctance to receive this sort of intimacy from her, despite his eager response when she spoke of it. When they were alone, he seemed to melt beneath her touch. Elain couldn’t help the way her insides heated as she envisioned the sounds he made when she ran her hands over his beautifully sculpted body. 

But even amidst his sure signs of pleasure, he was quick to halt her from going further. Elain’s heart sunk into her stomach as she wondered over the reason—what may have happened to him, what beliefs kept him from allowing her to give her love to him fully. 

Chapter Text

Elain

Upon Azriel’s return to the marketplace, Elain spotted him instantly, his sheer size and ebony leather armor standing out starkly against the golds and gemlike colors favored by the Fae of the Dawn Court. He had no need to weave through the crowd, as the faeries parted before him and kept well out of his way, with shuffling feet and uneasy expressions upon their faces. But Azriel did not seem to notice as he made his way to her, staring into her eyes as if he were wholly spellbound.  

“You enjoyed the market?” he asked as he greeted her with an embrace that was so effortlessly tender, Elain couldn’t help her dreamy sigh as she held him and rested her head against his chest.

“I missed you every minute, but I had a nice morning,” she said as she stepped back and reached into her bag, pulling out a brass music box and opening it so he could hear its cheery melody and see the small metal horse within as it galloped in a circle. “Isn’t this delightful? I bought it for Nyx.”

The light drained from his eyes. With a quick upward flinch of his lips, he attempted a smile that settled into a grim line across his face. 

Elain took his hand. “It’s not too late,” she assured him gently, as she stroked his palm with her thumb. “You can still be a part of his life—become close with him… When you’re ready.”

Azriel only replied with an empty nod, averting his eyes as if he was scanning the rows of booths that surrounded them. But Elain knew he wasn’t looking at the clothes, or the jewelry, or decorations. He was thinking. Ruminating over the way he was slowly becoming a distant stranger to his nephew.

She reached back into her small bag and pulled out two velvet pouches, each containing a copy of the silver bird he’d been so transfixed with earlier that morning. 

“These are for you,” she told him with hopeful anticipation. “They’re identical—one for you to keep, and one for you to take apart.” 

He took one bag and uncinched the opening so he could see the gift inside. The corners of Elain’s lips rose as she remembered the slight scrunch of his eyes as he’d examined it so meticulously. “I could tell you wanted to know how it was constructed on the inside.”

As a faint blush and an easy smile spread across his face, Elain’s own chest lightened. 

“Thank you,” he said with a gentle kiss against her cheek. 

After Azriel had tasked his shadows with delivering Elain’s shopping to their room, he took her to lunch in an opulent quarter of the city past the market. As they walked along the outskirts of the city afterward, Elain spotted a wide stone bridge that arched over a shimmering blue river. When she commented on its beauty, Azriel led her toward it, pausing only when they stood in the very middle of the bridge, both of them resting their hands on the parapet.

“What a lovely view,” she remarked, watching small ruby and gold painted rowboats gliding downstream past luxurious storefronts and graceful willow trees. The river was much narrower than the Sidra, but Elain could tell it ran fast and deep as it wended along the border of the city. Beside them, Elain watched with curiosity as a small group of Fae dropped handfuls of… something into the water below.  

Azriel noted her interest. “This river flows into a lake that is home to a serpent with golden scales,” he began. “Supposedly, the beast has a particular fondness for the daybreak berries that grow in the forest nearby. They say that if you stand on this bridge, throw a handful of berries into the river, and make a wish, the serpent will grant your wish in return for the offering—but only if some of them should actually make it all the way to its lake without being consumed by other creatures.”

It sounded like a children’s tale, but Elain no longer lived in the mortal realm, and within the courts of Prythian, magic was woven into the land and its creatures in the most unexpected ways. “Does it work?” she asked contemplatively. 

“I’m unsure,” he replied as he stepped behind Elain  and wrapped his arms around her.

“Have you tried it?”

“No,” he said, as they both gazed out over the winding ribbon of water that bordered the city. “I have not.”

“I’d like to try it, then,” she said, turning in his arms until she was face to face with him. “It should be a lovely excuse to see the wilder parts of the land, regardless of whether it’s true or not.” She slid a warm hand down his back, mindful not to brush his wings. “If I do it, will you?”

Azriel shrugged and glanced down at her with unexpected emotion swimming beneath the hazel of his eyes. “My greatest wish has already come true.” He softly grazed his knuckles down her cheek and then took a step back, offering his hand as if he intended to winnow them directly to the forest’s edge. 

The male before her was so often rushing from one place to the next… always fighting to keep up with the demanding pace of his life as it took shape around him.

“Let’s walk,” Elain said as she stepped forward and slid her fingertips from his elbow down to his wrist, leisurely, delicately, until she was lacing her fingers with his. “Very, very slowly.”

There was nowhere they were expected to be. No one and no schedule to dictate what they had to do or how they must spend the day. So why shouldn’t they take their time?

Azriel’s gaze found hers with a silent question etched there, just under the surface. She looked deep into his beautiful eyes, and gave the slightest squeeze of his hand, as if to gently tell him, Yes, I see the weight you carry, and the pressure you put on yourself, and I want you to know it’s okay to leave all of it behind for a little while… For today, with me, it’s okay to take it slow. 

Azriel let out a soft breath, his rigid shoulders sloping faintly. He gazed back at her with a calm easiness just beginning to filter into his face, a look of peace that Elain had rarely seen outside of her bedroom.

She brought her fingers to his cheek. The icy shield he locked in place to hide the softest parts of himself—it began to thaw, so gently, like fresh snow beneath the morning sun. What a beautiful thing it was when he let the layers of his armor down. 

How magnificent you are, her eyes told him. How precious you are to me…

Side by side, with Elain’s hand tucked into the crook of Azriel’s elbow, they meandered along the river’s edge and followed one of the smaller tributaries as it guided them through wide-open meadows, bursting with grasses and tall wildflowers that swayed in the soft breeze. Their conversation was lighthearted and joyful, each enamored glance from him provoking a delightful fluttering low in her stomach. 

Along the sandy, winding trail, they had paused more than once for the chance to steal sweet, unhurried kisses from each other. And when Elain’s darling shadow companion hid from the bright sunshine by diving into her bodice and nestling in between her breasts, Azriel, stunned and silent, had blushed furiously while Elain covered her face and laughed. 

As the path led them into the forest through a narrow break in the trees, Elain was drawn to a ledge that rose up a few feet above the bank of a shallow stream. 

“Lets sit,” she said, gathering up the lightweight fabric of her skirts as she sat, her legs not quite long enough to reach the small, sandy shore below. “You’ve given up your search for the daybreak berries so soon?” Azriel asked with an amused arch of his brow. 

“Certainly not,” she said resolutely, turning away from him and gazing through the clear water, hoping to spot a fish. “I’m not leaving without them.” Elain smiled to herself. “But it’s lovely here.”

Gentle footfalls grew nearer until Azriel was adjusting his wings and settling in beside her, his hip against hers and one arm slung around her back. “So it is.”

Together, they relaxed beneath the patchy shade of river birch trees overhead, lulled by the tranquil music of birdsong and flowing water until the world seemed as if it was an enchanting waking dream. Elain let the quiet closeness wrap around her, sinking into her skin like sunlight.

“I don’t know if I can,” Azriel said quietly, pulling Elain from her peaceful reverie. “I don’t know if it would bring about anything good. For him.”

Elain blinked. He was talking about Nyx, she realized, after a moment of puzzlement. “What makes you say that, Azriel?”

“I’m not like Rhys or Cassian with children… I…” He paused as his shoulders sunk lower, his face guarded, yet uncharacteristically forlorn. “I don’t think my influence would be…” he tried as his great wings folded tightly inward. “It doesn’t matter.” There was a detached frigidity that had hardened within the deep baritone of his voice, as if he was securing his defenses into place after the raw, unguarded honesty that had just slipped through. Scanning the rippling waters of the stream, he said, “Even if I tried coming around the river house again, I’m certain Rhys would put a stop to it. He seems to find it necessary to dictate who should or should not be exposed to me.”

Sorrow spilled into Elain’s eyes. To hear him talk this way… The cynicism, the way he’d implied his presence would be a harmful burden to his nephew...  

She put a steady hand against the small of his back. Elain knew what this was. He had been hurt. Deeply. Whatever happened with Rhys had surely burrowed into the unhealed wound carved out by his greatest insecurities and ripped it wide open.

“There is no reason to believe your influence would be anything but a blessing to Nyx,” she said with a calm surety as her palm moved in slow circles over his low back. “It would be a wonderful thing for him to grow up knowing and loving you.”

When he remained still and silent, Elain squeezed his forearm. “Azriel, look at me,” she said, as she turned toward his sun-dappled face—a mottling of shadow and warm, golden-brown sunlit skin. He met her eyes with hesitancy, but still, the cold mask from a moment before had vanished from his face. 

“You are kind-hearted, and so strong.” She swept her fingertips through the short hair just behind his temple, her thumb resting at the edge of his cheek. “You are selfless. And caring. And brave. There is nothing wrong with who you are. I understand if you need time before you join everyone again, but please don’t let these fears be what holds you back. There is so much good you have to offer your nephew.”

When Azriel reached out to take her hand in his, Elain felt a shift in his sullen mood, but a moment later, a short, weary laugh escaped his lips. “Good luck convincing Rhys of any of that.”

“Rhys cares about you, no matter what happened between the two of you.”

He eyed her skeptically. “If you knew what he said to me, you might think otherwise.”

“I don’t know what he said,” she began softly, “because you haven’t told me.”

Azriel’s eyes darkened with so much pain she could feel it in her own chest. “It should not be repeated.” “You don’t want to hear his apology,” she said, in gentle observation.

“No. I don’t.” Beneath his forced indifference, she glimpsed a sliver of the icy rage he harbored toward his brother. Elain met it with her own gentle acceptance, delicately tracing the ridges of scars that traversed his large, calloused hands. 

Quietly, with the slightest tinge of doubt, he added, “You think I should hear what he has to say.”

“No,” she said simply. “I don’t believe it would do any good for you to discuss it now.” His pain ran too deep, and his anger burned far too strong. If he spoke to Rhys now, it would likely end with harsh words and Azriel retreating deeper into the cold fortress within himself.

“I may never act like it,” she began mildly, her gaze downcast, “but I can’t seem to forget the hatred in Nesta’s eyes as she blamed me for our father’s death. I can’t stop hearing the echoes of words she used to insult me.” She glanced up to find Azriel’s typically impassive face flooding with anguish. Elain rested a reassuring hand on his thigh. ”I knew how much she was hurting after the war,” she continued, “and I tried to be understanding of the way she lashed out and wished for solitude… I tried to help her, but every time I attempted to reach out, even gently, she pushed me away, saying the words she knew would cut deepest. Words that were carefully chosen because she knew how they would tear me apart inside…” Azriel’s siphons pulsed a deep blue light, his face both raw with heartbreak and blazing with protective fury. “Or she would ignore me, as if I was so worthless I did not merit a passing glance.” She began to relax as Azriel stroked her back rhythmically. “Logically, I understand why she acted the way she did, and I know I should move on and put the pain behind me, but no matter how much I pretend that everything is okay, no matter how I try to convince myself to let it go, it still hurts. As much as I wish I could, I can’t bring myself to fully trust her again.”

“You don’t have to,” he insisted with an unrelenting firmness in his eyes. “You have no obligation to forgive her or grant her your trust. Especially if she’s done nothing to earn it back. As it is, you’re far more generous with your forgiveness than most would ever be…” He paused, shame sweeping across his face. 

She could feel the words he’d left unspoken as clearly as if they hung in the air between them. 

“Azriel… you apologized, and you showed me again and again that you meant it,” she said, stroking her thumb against his thigh. “Nesta and I… We talk now, but we’ve never talked about what happened.” Elain pursed her lips as she faced the uncomfortable decision of whether she should confront her sister or avoid addressing the unresolved divide between them. “But deep down, I sometimes fear that Nesta might believe every cruel word she said to me. I fear that neither of my sisters will ever embrace me as their equal. I worry that they will always see me the way our mother did. Foolish and empty-headed. Weak and shallow.” 

“You are none of those things, Elain,” he told her adamantly.

“Then maybe we have to refuse to let the words and actions of others alter the way we view ourselves,” she said. “Just because we fear it, that doesn’t mean it’s the truth.” When their eyes met, it was with recognition of the similar heartache they shared. Elain wasn’t sure whether Azriel meant to offer her peace or find his own, but he swept her into his arms and held her until her churning thoughts quieted and her heart was clear of sadness.

They found they were both able to leave the heavy weight of their worries behind as they set about their search for sunrise berries, which Azriel had described as small, round berries that grew in long sprays, fading from purple and vibrant pink to a bright, dandelion yellow at the tip. The search would’ve been much easier had the berries not been well-hidden beneath large, heart shaped leaves, but Elain soon spotted a cluster of the bushes growing beneath a canopy of dogwood trees. 

She carefully picked the berries one by one until she had enough to fill her hand. To her surprise, Azriel unsheathed Truth Teller and sliced off a heavy, drooping cluster of them and passed it off to a shadow. 

Not wanting to delay dinner too far into the evening, Azriel winnowed them back to the bridge, where he quickly dropped his offering into the swift current below. After a moment of thought, Elain made her wish—that both she and Azriel would again find peace and closeness with their siblings—and tossed her handful of berries over the edge of the bridge and hoped that there was some truth to the tale of the berry-loving, golden serpent. 

Azriel took her to dinner at the top of a tall tower made of the same golden stone that was so common in the area. There were many similar buildings in the city, easily reached by the Peregryn of Dawn and any other faeries that could winnow or fly. Winged staff were there to carry those who could not make it to the upper levels on their own, and Elain had smiled with amusement when Azriel had seemed a little too eager to tell the offering Peregryn male that it was unnecessary for him to carry Elain to the restaurant’s entrance at an upper balcony. 

The interior of the restaurant was outfitted in gold and white, with silky, draping curtains, sparkling chandeliers, and a spectacular mural painted onto the recessed tray ceiling. Elain soon found out that the food was every bit as delicious as Azriel had boasted. Afterward, he flew her to the balcony of their own room in the countryside to watch the sun as it began to dip down toward the towering peaks of far-off mountains. 

After a full day and the noise of the city’s crowds, the silence was exactly what she needed. Leaning into Azriel’s side as they stood at the rail of the balcony, she fully wrapped her arms around him with a gentle squeeze, thankful for the way he mirrored her own nature.

As the sun descended to meet the mountaintops, 

Azriel’s hand began to move against her hip, his rough fingers stroking the thin cotton of her dress. Elain gave a hum of pleasure as desire awakened beneath her skin. Eyes shining with adoration, Azriel cupped her cheek and angled her face toward him as he lowered his mouth to hers. His lips moved in slow passes, as if he’d hungered for her deeply and needed to savor the taste of her, as if he wanted it to last. She didn’t expect it when he cupped her cheek and drew his face back from hers.  

“Elain…” He spoke her name with delicate reverence as he looked deeply into her eyes, a sea of wanting gathering behind the elegant features of his face. “It is my deepest desire to marry you.”

Elain’s breath caught, and the warm summer air crystallized around her, as if the moment was an illustration in a storybook, beautifully still and suspended in time, forever preserved in all of its perfection. 

“I want nothing more than to belong to you for the rest of my days,” he said, stroking her face. “I don’t expect an answer from you, but I need you to know that all of me is entirely yours, and if you ever feel the same, I am here and ready to pledge myself to you for all of eternity.”

She stared back at him, and saw the male who had become the shelter for her heart and the sunrise to her soul. “I wish to marry you, Azriel,” she breathed. “Immediately. As soon as we can.”

Emotion overtook his face as he angled his lips over hers and kissed her like a waterfall that rushed forth with no end, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, his strong arms folding around her. She felt his mouth curve into a smile. “I love you,” he professed as he stroked the nape of her neck. “I love you with all that I am.” 

As tears welled up behind her eyes, Elain’s chest warmed with a wondrous surge of golden light as she cradled the back of his head, twisting her fingers into the dark waves of his hair, kissing him deeply. 

Desire built between them until he forced his lips to part from hers. “If you need more time for me to prove myself to you, I would understand,” he whispered, gazing down at her through damp lashes that clung together. “I promise I will do everything I can to make sure you will never doubt my love for you again.”

“I meant it when I said I forgive you, Azriel,” she assured him. Softly swirling her fingertips against his scalp, Elain’s eyes slid shut as she leaned in until her forehead rested against his. “I forgive you. I want all of you. I love you… and I want to be married to you.”

A blissful exhale escaped him as he reached a shaky hand into a pooling mass of shadows. “I have a ring for you,” he said, retrieving it from the small orb of darkness and carefully sliding it onto her finger. The delicate, golden band had been shaped into intertwining vines and delicate leaves that met to clasp a round, faceted stone of stunning moss agate. 

“Azriel, how did you…” She blinked in disbelief. “When did you…”

“The ring caught my eye as we were passing through the market this morning, and I knew it had to be yours,” he explained with a gentle smile.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, gazing down at the gem that now adorned her finger. “It’s perfect, Azriel… Everything is perfect.”

Azriel

Azriel had never invested much hope into luck or legends. He’d never been favored by the deities that presided over this world, hadn’t been granted an easy path to anything he’d truly wanted. Now, he wondered if all of his luck had been gathered up across the centuries and hidden away for safekeeping, so that it could be returned to him at the time when he needed it most. There was no other way to explain how this blessing could have found its way to him—against all odds and against the design of fate. 

While he had doubts over the truth behind the tales of the lake’s wish-granting serpent, the second he threw the berries into the river, he knew he was desperate for the stories to be true—for there to be any little bit of magic that could urge the universe to work in his favor. Because he’d kept a ring concealed within his shadows for hours, and had made a wish that Elain would never regret choosing him—that he would always be enough to give her the beautiful life she deserved.

She had given her heart to him, piece by piece, over years and across seasons, never losing patience with his restraint and the barriers he’d kept around his heart. Despite his flaws and failings, Elain still wanted all of him. 

But he could see it now—she had trusted him, all while he feared she would be happier without him. 

She forgave him, even as he continued to dread a future in which she would leave, looking out for the tiniest shred of evidence her heart was readying to shut him out.

He had loved her for so long, so completely, that he valued her happiness above his own. But he had chosen his unrelenting fears, and self-protection, when he needed to choose her. 

He wanted to marry her. To be bound to her for the rest of his life. He’d dreamed of it endlessly. So he had promised himself to her, had silenced his persistent self-doubt so she could finally know that he chose her above all else, and always would. 

And now she was lying beneath him, her exquisite body flush with his, wearing nothing but his ring. 

His wife… 

She would be his wife…

No matter what fate had decided, this was what she had chosen. This was his miracle. 

As Elain returned his heated kiss and lovingly swept her hands over his body, Azriel’s heart strained, fighting to contain the feelings that pooled and surged within it. 

He couldn’t deny himself of the urge to suck at the tender skin of her graceful neck. The soft sounds she made drove him to rashness, and the pull of his mouth grew strong and needy against her flesh.  A low groan rumbled from deep in his throat and he made no effort to suppress it.  

Azriel’s chest clenched tight with yearning as he summoned his shadows from where they rested, peaceful and content, inside him—the shadows that lightened in her presence, that had always been soothed and enchanted by her gentle grace. His shadows had always been the mirror to the darkest parts of him—parts that she’d met with such tenderness. 

He sent them out, a long black stream that snaked up the side of her leg. “Is this okay, Elain?” he asked in a low, velvet voice. 

Her fingers delicately skimmed along his back. “I would love to feel the touch of your shadows, Azriel,” she said with a lovely softness, looking up at him as if she understood what it would mean to him.

As his shadows traced circles against the side of her waist, Azriel pushed himself back to his knees, a faint grin curving his lips as he caught sight of the mark he’d left at the side of her throat. With reverent gentleness, he gripped her knees and eased them upward toward her waist, spreading them apart until he’d exposed her pink sex and the delicate skin of her inner thighs, his eyes glazing over as he took her in. 

“Shadows will take the place of my hands,” he said, almost dazedly, and he waited for the nod of her head before sending forth three more bands of shadows, two to circle her thighs just above her knees, and a long, dark rope that slid behind the back of her neck before linking to each of the shadow cuffs, securing her legs just how he wanted them. 

“Does this feel okay?” he asked, needing to know whether she was comfortable with this before he went any further.

“It’s fine, but I can think of a few ways it could feel even better,” she said innocently, a sultry glint in her eyes. 

Azriel smirked before responding darkly, “As can I.” He began running his broad palms over her thighs as his shadow circled her rosy nipple. “And I’ll gladly show you… as long as you can be patient.” Elain’s eyes drifted shut with a lovely sigh as she reveled in his affection. 

His body was drawn tight and aching for her by the time he bound her delicate wrists above her head, anchoring them to the bedposts. But he wouldn’t allow himself to touch her. Not yet. 

His gaze roved over her luscious thighs, her slick sex, her enticing, pert breasts with peaked nipples that rose and fell with each shallow breath—all of her bared before him. Such incomparable beauty… She looked so enchanting, marked and bound by him. He couldn’t help the possessive satisfaction that swelled at the thought. 

Azriel watched with anticipation as he sent his shadow downward from her breast to the flat plane of her stomach. 

For the first time, his shadows were not a means of distancing himself, or ensuring he remained in full control. This was something entirely different. 

This was an offering. A confession. At a time when words were not enough. 

Elain

Elain’s focus narrowed to the ribbon of darkness as it caressed the sensitive skin below her navel. She murmured his name as her back arched, tugging against the shadow restraints that anchored her in place.  

“Do you like the feel of my shadows against your skin?” Azriel asked in a husky voice. 

Elain nodded eagerly, praying he would use his shadows, his hands—anything—to see to the aching need between her legs. 

With a deep exhale, Azriel’s chin tipped up as he reached for his cock, and Elain moaned at the magnificent sight of him, the sensuous glide of his fist as he stroked himself, his gaze never straying from her body. 

As the first shadow brushed light, teasing, maddening strokes over her low stomach, two more emerged to massage the insides of her thighs. Elain’s skin erupted in goosebumps, and her desperation grew as the shadow at her stomach slowly inched its way lower. She was seconds away from begging for relief as it finally dipped down to glide over her sex with long, indulgent passes. Elain moaned appreciatively, luxuriating in the sensation of his shadows caressing her in tandem.

“How patient you’ve been,” Azriel said appreciatively, as he sent out a black flurry of shadows that crept over her face, forming a thick band that shielded her eyes. “So sensitive to the touch of my shadows...” Eyes fully covered, Elain felt the bed move as his body shifted. “But when you come,” he added, “I want it to be mine.”

She moaned at the feel of Azriel’s scarred fingers sweeping against her center as his shadow slithered up to her breast. The warmth of his hand felt delicious after the chill of his shadows. He began to circle her clit at a lazy pace, bringing her down from the edge of release, making her impossibly hungry for more—more heat, more of his body against hers, more pressure from his fingers working her faster. 

As shadows continued their cool caress of her skin, Elain adjusted to the slow slide of Azriel’s touch, and frustration melted into overwhelming satisfaction. Only when her soft moans blossomed into more and she began moving against his hand, did he finally begin to quicken the controlled, languorous rhythm of his strokes. 

Elain’s body tensed as she neared her release, but the glide of his fingers slowed, and as they drifted down to caress her opening, the lovely buildup dissipated into an insistent pulsing at her center. Her disappointment lasted but a second until Azriel slid two fingers inside her, her breath catching before he began to pump them steadily. Just when the new sensation had pulled her under its spell, he slipped his long fingers out and dragged them over her skin, leaving a slick trail running up to her navel. 

For a moment, nothing. Just the loss of contact, the sound of her own soft panting, and the darkness of shadows covering her eyes. Then the warm slide of Azriel’s tongue tracing the line he’d made, licking up her wetness with a low hum of pleasure against her skin. Elain gasped. 

His mouth… The feel of him… 

He was a beautiful force in the way he pleasured her, precise as a sculptor, relentless as the sea. 

His soft lips continued working their way up her body until Azriel paused to press delicate kisses beneath her breastbone.

A needy huff of air breezed past Elain’s lips. “Azriel…”

“Trust me,” he said, before swirling his tongue around her nipple. “I’ll make you come, Elain. And when I do, the wait will be worth it.”

Elain relaxed and her heart softened as she realized his intent was wholly selfless—his every move was precisely chosen to drag out her pleasure and build up to a climax that would take her breath away. 

Azriel lowered his body to meet hers, his warmth and the press of his shaft between her legs relieving the cold feeling of emptiness that had encroached when his fingers left her center. 

As their kiss deepened, his palm followed the length of her arm, grazing her skin, stopping at her bound wrists and holding them to the mattress. His kisses descended along her neck, lower, shadows following in their wake, flowing down her arms like trickling streams and covering her body in a web of intricate designs, their beauty something Elain could only imagine from beneath her shrouded eyes. She could feel his power thrumming through the dark bands that wove together like fine lace; the sensation was a rippling pulse, a delightful current that coursed across the surface of her skin. 

To Elain, it felt indulgent to be restricted like this. She was exposed, entirely at his mercy. Her only purpose in this moment was to let herself be touched, caressed, adored… 

It felt selfish. 

It felt decadent. 

And what mattered most was that he knew it would… He had planned this… had orchestrated every kiss, every brush of his shadows. He had crafted a masterpiece of touch and magic and sensation to profess his devotion to her. And she craved to return it to him tenfold… whatever he would allow… if he would ever allow it at all…

“Elain…” he gritted out, as if whatever control he had over himself was being tested. “You are so beautiful it’s devastating.”  

She hoped that Azriel felt only satisfaction as he watched his dark shadows covering her skin—that the image would not feed his long-held fear that he tainted her; she prayed he could see the joining of him, his magic, and her bare body for the exquisite perfection that it was. 

“We are beautiful,” she whispered lightly. “Together.” 

Azriel’s hands tightened where they grasped her hips. Kisses low on her stomach that were dripping with slow indulgence grew urgent before he finally closed his lips around her clit, sucking it fervently as his shadows teased her nipples. 

As his tongue began to stroke her center, Elain knew this would be it. She could feel it in the hungry way he moaned against her, as if he’d finally torn through the last tethers of his restraint. Her stomach went taut, suspense building as his mouth moved against her. Deep inside, she felt as if her body was a restless sea retreating from shore as it gathered strength. And when Azriel’s swift, blissful strokes sent her over the edge, she plummeted. 

Her ties to the earth shattered as she descended into limitless ecstasy that churned through her in torrents, entirely unashamed of the sounds that came from her mouth. Elain’s climax unleashed itself relentlessly—great flares of pleasure that illuminated bursts of sparkling color behind her eyes, her body writhing with each fierce wave. 

Only when the final swells of her release passed did Azriel’s mouth part from her center, his shadows releasing her from their grip and fading into lightness. His perfect, golden-green eyes were reverent as he drew his body upward to lie against her chest. Elain’s eyelids swept shut as she enfolded him in her embrace.

“I love you,” the quiet whisper of his voice breezed over her skin. Elain echoed it back to him, closing her eyes as she tightened her hold on him. No other words were needed. They spoke in the cadence of his gentle breaths that swept over her chest, in the unhurried slide of her palms along the length of his back. 

As the pulsing at her center faded like the last flickering embers of a dimming fire, Elain found she could not escape a keen longing that coiled inside her chest, tugging at her until she grew restless from it. A spark of hope dared to ignite, inciting her courage, even as she braced herself for rejection. 

“Can I touch you, Azriel?” She spoke the delicate words into his hair before biting her lips and holding her breath. 

Azriel stilled and Elain instantly yearned to reverse time and take it back… But unexpectedly, he gave a shallow nod, kissed her softly, and rolled onto his back, his head settling against the plush, silk pillow. His eyes held a quiet intensity as he looked toward her—a deep longing with hushed uncertainty just beneath the surface. Her heart pounding with anticipation, Elain’s gaze fixed on his, letting him see the whole of her unending desire, her infinite love for him. She’d fantasized of kneeling before him, but she craved more closeness than that would allow, so she moved in closer and fitted her body to his side. 

Azriel’s arm wrapped around her and she began trailing her fingertips over his stomach, gliding over the crests and valleys of hard muscles, listening to his breaths as they grew weightier, faster. She swept her hand down to his thigh, massaging the long, densely corded muscles until the tension in his jaw had eased. 

She leaned in for one heartfelt kiss before she wrapped her hand around him, high on his shaft, and gently slid her thumb into the clear, pooling liquid at the very tip, swirling it over the head of his cock. Gazing up at his face, Elain watched as his lips parted with a blissful sigh and he looked back at her through desirous, heavy-lidded eyes. She moved her fist down his length with one smooth slide and worked her way back up even slower, tightening her grip ever so slightly as she passed over the head of his thick cock. 

As he drew in lengthy inhales of her scent and tightened his grip on her backside, Elain couldn’t help the eager moans that came from her upon witnessing the way he responded to her touch. She kissed his chest lovingly before nuzzling back in against him, adding a gentle twist to the stroke of her hand. Azriel received it with a deep groan that had Elain’s inner muscles tightening, her anticipation continuing to climb along with the evidence that his powerful body was edging toward release. 

“Elain,” he began, his deep voice gruff, “if you keep doing that—” The remaining words were stolen by a swift inward breath.

“You’ll come for me?” she whispered readily. 

He nodded as his body tensed further. He was holding back, she realized, but Elain was desperate for his release. Unable to hide the desire from her voice, she asked, “Would you let me take you in my mouth so I can taste it?”

Azriel made a guttural, needy sound as the hard muscles of his stomach cinched in tightly. Yet his pause told her everything. 

Before Elain could react to his decision, he gently grasped the hand that encircled his hardened shaft, peering into her eyes with a weighted look of yearning. “Elain, would you…” 

Her gaze locked on his as he carefully guided her hand to the sleek upper arch of his wing. 

The air hung in suspense around her. 

She knew what it meant for an Illyrian male to offer up his wings. For a moment, she scanned his face for any sign of reconsideration, and when she found none, Elain eased her body over his, straddling his hips and lowering one hand to the mattress beside his head. Eyes a sea of wonder, as if seeing this part of him for the first time, she placed her palm against the bony upper ridge of his wing and brought her thumb and forefinger together on opposite sides of the smooth membrane just beneath. She watched his expression attentively as she slid her fingertips down toward his shoulder. “Like this?” 

Azriel shuddered, his head tipping back as his wings snapped in tightly to his sides. 

“A reflex,” he said apologetically between heavy breaths. 

Elain nodded, eager for a second attempt. To get it right this time. She combed her fingers through his hair comfortingly. “How do you like it?” 

Gazing into her eyes, Azriel settled his fingers against her ribcage and lazily circled her nipple with his thumb, admitting, “I do not know.” 

Even as her breath stuttered, delighted by the building sensation at her breast, a whirlwind of feelings swirled about within her at what he’d just implied. 

Five hundred years. 

Azriel had existed in this world for over five hundred years, yet she was the only one to ever touch him like this… There was absolutely nothing that would deter her from properly satisfying him. 

“I’ll figure it out,” she calmly assured him, before reaching toward his wing with unwavering determination. She prayed that he would let her… that he wouldn’t change his mind…

She dragged one knuckle over the membrane, along the outer curve of his wing, yet this only coaxed another shiver from him before his wings clamped shut once more. 

“I’m sorry,” he said with an anxious puff of air that slid past his lips, embarrassment gleaming as bright as the pink stain across his cheeks.  

“No, it’s okay,” Elain said calmly, smiling gently as she caressed his chest with soothing strokes of her palms. She let him see the certainty in her eyes. “I promise I’ll find out what feels good for you.”

She could sense his frustration with himself, his spiraling thoughts—as if he believed his sensitivity was a shameful inconvenience. She refused to let him succumb to any of it. “You’re perfect,” she told him, her voice soft and sure. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, don’t let it pull you away from me.” Her hands traveled from his chest to his arms and shoulders, sweeping over them just as tenderly. “Just relax for me, Azriel.”

Perhaps it would not overwhelm his senses if the caress of his wings was simply one part within a combined harmony of pleasure, so she took her focus from his wings and began a lavish massage of the muscles between his neck and shoulders, kneading until the tension seemed to drain from his body. Her need for him had not settled, and it wasn’t for his pleasure alone that Elain began moving gently against his cock. 

Slipping her forearm beneath his neck, Elain draped her body over his, still rocking against him as she cupped his cheek and brought her lips to his, kissing him slowly and deeply. With Azriel’s sensuous hum of contentment against her mouth, Elain reached for his wing and dared to stroke the membrane with her fingertips. A brief flinch of his shoulders, and Azriel finally relaxed beneath her. She continued her rhythmic caress, kissing his neck as she moved softly against him. 

“Gods…” he murmured as her fingers slid across the dark, sensitive skin. “Oh gods…”

Gradually, her strokes turned faster and firmer. As if guided by an impulse he couldn’t resist, Azriel extended both wings. Each of his heavy breaths became a moan of pleasure, and his taut, outstretched wings began to quiver. A rush of new wetness arose within Elain as she bore witness to the bliss she had coaxed from him. 

“Elain, let me…” Azriel began, trying to slip his hand between their bodies to stroke her clit.

She shook her head. “Will you come for me, Azriel?”

He didn’t manage an answer beyond a wispy attempt at her name before his hips began to rock against her and a powerful groan of ecstasy tore from his throat. Elain continued tracing broad strokes against his wing as his seed spilled between them in great, rhythmic spurts. 

Once he was fully spent, both wings were there at once, wrapping around her back and holding her tightly against him. With her head on his chest, Elain wove her fingers into his hair and massaged his scalp adoringly, brushing light kisses against his skin. 

“You are breathtaking,” she murmured, awestruck, raising her head to meet his gaze. “I hope you know how I’ve dreamed of this…” 

Azriel’s lips parted, his eyes flickering with deep, thinly veiled emotion, but when words evaded him, he cradled the back of her head and stoked the nape of her neck, guiding her face to his. There was a new weightlessness that had descended upon him, a quiet unburdening of his heart.

Elain laid with him, stroking his flushed cheeks, the two of them sharing breath, up until his body began to shift. “I’ll be right back,” he said, but she raised herself upward and halted him with one slim hand against his muscled chest. 

“I don’t want you to,” she said. “I want you to wait here for me.”

When he read the immovable look in her eyes, he lowered his head to the pillow. 

Elain returned with a warm, dampened washcloth and knelt beside him on the bed, sweeping it over his stomach, unhurried and tender, until she had gathered up the entirety of his release. His shadows quickly swarmed around it, the washcloth vanishing from her hands. Elain suppressed a small laugh, amused by their prompt assistance. She wished to continue warming and cleansing his skin, but settled for her own bare hands to resume the leisurely exploration of his body. Azriel was unable to remain idle, his fingers coasting smoothly along her thigh. 

“I want to know every inch of you,” she mused as her hands roamed over his chest and shoulders. “I want to learn every secret that your body keeps.”

“All of me is yours,” Azriel promised, rising up to claim her lips. His hand cupped the back of her neck, pulling her down to the mattress with him. 

She kissed him unreservedly as he guided her body over his until she was kneeling astride him. 

Elain swallowed a moan, finding him perfectly hard and ready beneath her. 

“I want you,” she told him openly. 

“Then take me inside you, Elain,” he said, sliding his hands down to her hips. “Just like this.”

Her eyes shot to his, disbelieving and soft. “Are you sure?” she asked, thoroughly aware of how it unsettled him to cede control, thinking she had already led him to the farthest brink of his limit today. 

“You move beautifully,” he said with sincere admiration. “Would you continue for me?” Beneath the stoic elegance in his eyes, a fragile, beautiful curiosity gleamed.

Elain nodded, her eyes welcoming his delicate request. She kissed him with her heart fully ignited, an unmoored piece of her settling into place inside her.  

When she could wait no longer, Elain leaned back and rose up on her knees, closing her hand around his hardened cock. Azriel’s heated gaze was instantly riveted to the space between their bodies. He watched, transfixed, as she notched him at her entrance and took him in slowly, inch by inch. Even as his eyelids threatened to slide shut, even amidst the low moans that came from him each time she rose up along his shaft, his ravenous gaze did not stray from her.   

With her hands braced on his shoulders, Elain slid along his length, her hips rolling smoothly as she rode him. And Azriel watched as if he was mesmerized by her. As if he wanted to devour her. 

His hands began to explore her body as she moved—his strong, commanding, gentle hands—skirting along her sides, stroking her nipples, squeezing her breasts. 

Elain leaned in and kissed him adoringly, yet mere seconds after her tongue dipped into his mouth, she had to pull back to catch her breath…

The sensation dawned upon her like an awakening—all-encompassing and radiant. Elain couldn’t think past the delicious side of his cock against her inner walls and the irrational fear that something had to be wrong because it was impossible to feel this much so quickly… 

The release building deep inside her sparked wariness in her chest, as Elain was certain her body couldn’t possibly contain much more pleasure than this… As the feeling began to consume her, and the rocking of her hips grew shallow, Azriel grasped her backside with both hands and thrust upward into her until the sparkling edge of release rose up before her. Her body craved it, even as she tried to resist, but there was no stopping the pleasure that came upon her like an avalanche rolling and surging through her entire body, her cries of ecstasy blending with his appreciative groan. 

But even after her release had ebbed, Elain had no reprieve—still bathed in pleasure, right on the edge once more, her next climax building impossibly quickly. 

“Oh gods,” she whined as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, their bodies still moving together seamlessly. Short, needy sounds rose up from her throat while the sensation climbed ever-higher, overtaking her until she was coming again, boundless pleasure eclipsing her senses as it claimed every inch of her body. 

“Elain… oh fuck…” Azriel muttered blissfully, as his steady thrusts carried her through her climax, his rough hands gripping her tighter.  

Elain was vaguely aware of her lips forming his name and her own whimpering as she plunged straight from her release back into that transcendental state of euphoria. Even as she moved against him, wanting more, an irrational part of her was edged with panic—she was drowning in so much pleasure, she felt as if she might never escape it. 

Azriel slowed the perfect, rolling thrusts of his hips. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” she said firmly, riding his cock, unwilling to let this feeling slip away. 

His hand swept over the curve of her hip, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” She could feel herself tightening around him, the next release hovering just within her grasp.

“I want to try this,” he said, grasping her hips and sliding out of her as he guided Elain to lie on her stomach. Ear against the mattress, she waited as he angled her hips, her empty core throbbing persistently, until she was pacified by the weight and warmth of his body settling over her. He entered her with one long, luxurious slide of his cock, and Elain sighed at the feeling of wholeness as he filled her, at the intimate closeness of his muscular body wrapping around her. With the first deep, arcing thrust, Elain yielded to him, eyelids fluttering shut as he found a lovely rhythm. The same, otherworldly feeling began to rise up inside her. 

“It’s okay,” Azriel murmured soothingly, sensing the sudden tensing of her body, leaving soft kisses at the back of her neck. “Relax, Elain.” She managed a nod before her lips parted and her light, breathy moans began to slip from them. “I’m here,” he told her. “You can let go.” 

With his strong body molded to the contour of her back, it felt too easy to surrender to the unwavering command of him. 

“Does this feel the same as before?” he asked patiently.

Elain nodded, already lost to the bliss he gave her with each thrust of his hips. She let herself melt into his embrace, the steady comfort of him. A stream of golden light began to glisten beneath her eyes as the surreal feeling of bliss rose to its full strength inside her. She let her climax rush through her, a flood of euphoria that engulfed her thoroughly. Azriel moaned softly against her ear as she came, as if her pleasure was something tangible shared between them.

“Beautiful,” he whispered into her hair. “Again for me, my love.”

She began to move against him, as much as she could from beneath him, the harmony of their bodies weaving through her until she was swept away by another full-body release that left her feeling as if she hovered somewhere high above the clouds, bathed in a pure, iridescent light. Gasping and panting, Elain’s body sagged as much as it could while held between the bed and Azriel’s heavily muscled frame. She had returned once more to that limitless pool of heavenly bliss, still cycling though the rise and fall of pleasure that felt so unending, her body scarcely knew what to do with it. 

Azriel groaned and reached beneath her, palming her breast as he drove himself into her, bringing his mouth to the back of her neck and sucking deeply at the delicate skin. Whatever this was, her entire heart wanted to share it with him. If any barriers had remained between them, they were surely gone now, eviscerated into nothing. 

She could feel the invisible threads that bound them deepening, shining more brilliantly than ever. Safe and whole, enveloped by his intoxicating scent and warm weight, Elain moaned in ecstasy as she surrendered to another exquisite release that rippled into every open space inside her. Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes as she felt something sealed within her heart unlocking. 

“I’m almost there,” Azriel said around shallow breaths. “Can you take any more, Elain?”

Beyond the point of forming words, she nodded, desperate to feel him spilling into her. To complete the beautiful exchange of pleasure between them. The quickened pace of his deep thrusts had her coming at once, clenching around him until his gritty moans accompanied her own, their combined release coalescing between them like a promise of enduring devotion and trust. Something in her heart solidified, an incomplete part of her made whole as he tucked his face against her neck and they ascended into blissful oblivion as one. 

As the waves of their pleasure subsided, Azriel slowed above her until his body draped along her back, the remnants of the magic between them still glimmering within her. 

Shadows rushed to soothe and cool her, brushing her cheek, darting into the scant crevasses of empty space between their bodies. Achingly needy, she whispered his name on a tremulous breath, though what she needed, she did not know. Arousal still glinted at her center, but she’d never felt so entirely and utterly spent. She was hovering so high, unsure whether she would sink down from it softly, or simply shatter into a thousand pieces.

“It’s okay,” came the velvety gentle command of Azriel’s deep voice. “I’m right here with you.”

Ragged breaths escaped her lungs as her body began its gentle descent.

“Slowly,” he said, and with effort, Elain matched the pace of his long, measured breaths, shuddering with each exhale. Never before had she felt so vulnerable with him, with anyone—her only relief was found in the steady stream of comfort he provided her, in the sanctuary of his body as it protectively cradled hers.

“That’s it,” he said as he kissed her cheek. “Just like that.”

Elain still felt as if they existed somewhere miles away from solid ground. “What was that?” she breathed, still unprepared to open her eyes.

“It was bewitching,” he professed dreamily. “Indescribably beautiful.”

Just beginning to clear through the cloud of unsteadiness that threatened to overtake her, Elain finally felt herself relax against him, a warm sense of peace beginning to sink into her heart.  

“I love you,” she whispered. There was nothing more to say. 

His soft lips again met her cheek. “I love you, Elain.” There was a weighted pause of silence, as if he worried over disrupting the moment before he spoke again. “I’d like to face you,” he murmured the soft words into her hair. “Would that be okay?”

She nodded, reluctant to lose the satisfying fullness of his length sheathed inside her, but longing to bury her face in his chest and breathe him in from the shelter of his embrace. 

He slowly slid his cock from inside her and Elain felt the chill of his body parting from hers before he was gently coaxing her onto her side and pulling her in against his chest. As she wrapped one arm around him, Azriel cradled the back of her head and ran one hand over her back with steady, reassuring passes. 

A soft sound of gratitude was all she could manage. He continued stroking her back, pausing to rub firm circles against the muscles that bordered her spine. 

“That feels nice,” she said through a dreamlike haze.

“Good,” he said, smiling against her cheek. “I always want to make you feel good.”

As he continued his diligent massage of her back, he quietly asked, “Are you okay?”

She nodded against his chest, listening to the precious drumming of his heartbeat. “It’s never happened like that before.”

“You did so well,” he said again, his voice soothing and deep. “You were so perfect…” He brushed a kiss against her forehead. “So gorgeous every time you came for me.” 

Elain nuzzled against his chest with a sleepy sigh. They held each other close, and Elain began to feel the weight of sleep guiding her down into its inky depths.  

“Goodnight, my love,” Azriel said gently.

Elain chewed her bottom lip. “I should try looking for answers with my sight.”

“Worry about it another time.” His low, drowsy voice seemed to darken the air around her, making sleep’s lure even more irresistible, especially as his fingertips circled against her scalp.

“My visions are clearest at night,” she lazily protested, stroking his side. ”I fear I may miss a chance to search for answers, to try and figure out how the vision of you and Rhys might be prevented.”

Her stomach drew tight as the memory of the haunting vision resurfaced in her mind. She fought off a shiver as a chill ran up her spine. 

Azriel began to sweep his hand up and down her back, chasing the eerie feeling away. “You’ve spent many weeks losing sleep in favor of using your power to help everyone else. You deserve a break from it. You deserve to sleep free of guilt. There is no current threat to either of us. You can rest tonight, Elain.”

Reluctantly, Elain nodded and settled in against him. Azriel’s fingers tightened against her bare skin. “We are beautiful together,” he said devoutly, just as she’d told him while wrapped in his shadows. 

As his words sunk into the center of her heart,  Elain was filled with a sense of peace that floated blithely through her veins. 

Tears sprung up in her eyes, because after all this time, he saw it… After the months he had hidden himself away like a shameful secret, after fighting against his heart and despising himself, he could finally see it—amidst whatever darkness and light existed in the both of them—they belonged. They were meant to be just as wildflowers were meant to blanket the soil, just as the sky was meant to hold the clouds. 

Undeniable. Inseparable. For as long they lived and through whatever came after.