Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was the Valkyries' first Solstice at the River House, and Gwyn was impressed by the effort put into making it a magical spectacle. Of course, with it being the High Lady's birthday as well, nothing less was expected. Rhys fawned over Feyre, showering her with gifts and affection. Gwyn had never been celebrated like that on her birthday.

There was love, of course, but rarely gifts, so she didn't feel like she was missing out there. The priestesses didn't believe in them, opting for a life free from attachments to material possessions. That's why she never wore the necklace she received from 'a friend'. She felt no connection to it. The only items that held meaning for her were her friendship bracelet and a few books.

Affection, though. She missed that... a lot.

While growing up, receiving it from her mother, sister, and other priestesses was enough, but now there was a different desire, a strange new need— which had been growing for some time now.

She wanted someone excited to spend time with her and celebrate her. Someone to share her body and soul with. She was ready for it. And the countless smutty romances she read didn't help. She was wound up like a spring, eager for release. She needed to get out more, meet some males... maybe find love.

Nesta had suggested the pleasure halls, but alcohol and establishing boundaries didn't seem to mix. She needed a male who understood her need to be in control if they had sex, at least for the first time. She'd rather meet new people in sober environments, like a café or gallery. Maybe that would be her New Year's resolution: to put herself out there.

She nodded affirmatively to herself and knocked back the champagne she'd been cradling for too long. Once she emptied her glass, she went to grab another.

Half paying attention, her fingers brushed against the cool, rough ridges of a hand she knew well.

"Sorry, shadowsinger. After you," she said, retracting her hand from the same glass he was reaching for.

He didn't say anything, just picked it up and handed it to her before grabbing another one for himself. She nodded a thanks as he downed his and went for another.

"Bad night?" she quipped, observing as he effortlessly drank glass after glass of Rhysand’s finest champagne.

"About to be," he answered flatly before turning his attention toward the centre of the room where most of his family were situated, just finishing up the present portion of the evening.

Gwyn had received some thoughtful and practical gifts she would use: exotic spices from Emerie, romance books from Nesta and Cassian, and a reading faelight from Azriel, the same one he had given Nesta that Emerie and herself often tried to steal.

She didn’t have enough money herself to buy anything, so she had sung as a gift before dinner.

It seemed like something everyone enjoyed immensely, including Azriel's shadows, which danced around her during each tune. Feyre had cried, grabbing her for a tight hug when she finished. Rhysand had insisted it became a tradition and joked that Azriel would join her next year. She flushed slightly at the thought, remembering back to the previous Solstice when she’d asked him about his singing abilities. She thought it would be nice to have a duet partner for future events and made a mental note to tease him into submission for next year.

Someone clinked their glass lightly to grab everyone's attention.

"This will be quick. I promise," Elain said in her airy voice. "As you know, my mate has been very patient with me, allowing me the time to get to know him as my dearest friend before becoming my greatest love..."

Lucien grabbed her left hand, kissing the engagement ring he had placed there only a few weeks ago.

Elain turned to Lucien, gazing adoringly at him. "My love. Starting a new tradition, I actually got you a gift this year!"

A couple of people laughed, but she had no idea why that was funny.

Elain let go of his hand to reach for a small square slice of Feyre's birthday cake and stood before Lucien with her offering.

"My handsome mate, please accept this food as a token that I wish to accept our bond."

Lucien looked like he was going to cry, grabbing the sides of Elain's face to place a passionate kiss on her lips before stepping back to look at the cake in her hand.

"Right here?" he quipped, and another burst of laughter, especially from Cassian, rang through the room.

Gwyn guessed he had the mating frenzy on his mind.

Elain laughed. "Just eat the cake, Lucien!"

He chuckled and opened his mouth so she could feed him. All their family and friends cheered, offering the mates their congratulations… except for Azriel.

"What’s the matter, shadowsinger? Do you have an aversion to love?"

He snickered, taking a healthy sip of champagne before answering. "Just hard being surrounded by it."

She could certainly agree with that. Nesta and Cassian were not discreet with their affections, and Emerie and Mor were like horny teenagers since they started dating. Training was literally foreplay for the couples. And she wasn’t afraid to admit she was jealous.

Some of the other priestesses had started to date too, which irked her a little more. She was the first priestess to sign up for training, she was the first one to become a Valkyrie, and now others were going to surpass her in allowing males back into their world. That would end in the new year. Love, and sex, had to be waiting for her; she just had to go find it.

"At least we have each other to keep company," Gwyn quipped, raising her glass toward him. He chuckled, taking another sip. With centuries of tolerance under his belt, he was already multiple glasses ahead of her, while she felt a pleasant buzz after just one and a half.

He smirked in response. "Don't go falling in love, and you can stay my friend!"

"Friendship with conditions, how appealing!" Gwyn laughed, enjoying their banter as always. There was something about Azriel that brought out a playful side of her that few others ever saw.

"Seriously, Berdara. My shadows know a lot of secrets, including yours!" he teased, squinting at her with mock suspicion.

Gwyn feigned surprise. Of course, a spymaster would hoard secrets like treasure. "Enlighten me," she retorted with a grin.

"You're looking for a ‘special’ someone," he whispered, leaning a little closer than usual, perhaps courtesy of the alcohol. Despite herself, she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. She wondered how they’d figured it out. Maybe they could read minds!

"Tell them they're busybodies!" she exclaimed, shooting a stern look at the shadows lurking from behind his wings.

They dispersed in a flurry of movement as he replied with a smirk, "They already know that."

She chuckled, the sound low and teasing. "So, what if I am! You can’t expect me to be alone forever. And I'll never meet anyone hiding in the library."

Azriel's dark eyes sparkled with mischief. "You met me."

A slow, suggestive grin curled her lips. "True. But I want to meet someone who I can... train in other areas with!"

His smirk deepened, a playful glint in his eyes. "I hear I'm a good teacher."

A rush of heat flooded her cheeks, and she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Are you propositioning me?"

His responding chuckle sent shivers down her spine. "Depends on your answer."

Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed into his smouldering eyes. "Let's say I was interested... what would our first lesson include?" Each word dripped with anticipation, her pulse quickening with every passing moment, the champagne giving her the courage to be more flirtatious than usual.

Azriel leaned impossibly close now to whisper in her ear, his breath hot against her as he listed all the filthy things she’d only read about in her books. She blushed uncontrollably as he told her what he planned to do with his fingers, his tongue… his cock. And she wanted it… all of it. Gwyn's heart raced as Azriel's words stirred a fire within her, igniting desires she had hoped would spark again.

As he pulled back, the air around them seemed charged, and she found herself unable to tear her gaze away from his piercing eyes.

With a shaky breath, she took a step closer to him, her voice barely above a whisper. "We should leave then," she managed to rasp out, her mind swirling with a heady mix of excitement and nervousness.

Azriel's smirk widened as he reached out to take her hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her veins. No one would miss them. Everyone was already coupled off in dark corners doing gods knows what anyways.

As they walked towards the front door, Gwyn's thoughts raced, her mind consumed by the tantalising possibilities of what awaited them. She couldn't believe she was about to have sex with Azriel! Sure, they liked flirting with each other, but he never gave her any indication that he wanted anything more. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that she had a huge crush on him for months.

Once outside, it was just a few more steps until they passed the wards, and they could winnow back to the House of Wind… to Azriel’s bedroom. He turned to face her, his gaze still intense as he reached toward her to gently brush a lock of hair away from her face.

"Gwyn," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down her spine. "Are you sure about this?" All teasing was gone, as if he’d sobered up to what they’d just agreed to do.

But she knew without a doubt that this was what she wanted, and that Azriel would be the perfect teacher. With a nod, she leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches away from his.

"I've never been more sure of anything," she whispered, her voice filled with a raw hunger that matched his own.

In a rush of heat and desire, their lips met in a searing kiss. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in each other, the world around them fading away until there was only the two of them, consumed by the flames of passion, surrounded by a shield of shadows. Azriel gripped her waist as she ran her hands over his chest, feeling his heart thundering like her own.

As they finally broke apart, he took her hand once more, and together they disappeared into the dark, reappearing just outside the House of Wind wards. Azriel smoothly flew them down, and they raced to his bedroom in a flurry of kisses and touches.

Once inside, Gwyn's heart pounded in her chest as she stood before him, her body trembling with nervous excitement. She made her way straight for his bed, letting the buzz of champagne fuel her confidence. Azriel's eyes bore into hers, stalking her across the room. He seemed to pause for just a moment, just a beat to let her change her mind. But she wouldn’t. As he closed the distance between them with long, purposeful steps, she reached for the buttons on the front of her powder-blue silk dress. He was faster.

“Let me,” he whispered, his voice like honey.

With Gwyn's body quivering beneath his touch, Azriel's fingers deftly worked the buttons of her dress, each one coming undone with ease under his professional touch.

As the fabric of her dress loosened, Azriel's lips trailed a path of feather-light kisses along the exposed skin of her neck and chest, igniting a trail of fire in their wake. Gwyn arched into his touch, a soft sigh escaping her as she surrendered herself to the intoxicating sensation of his lips against her skin.

The warmth of his breath ghosted over her bare shoulders as he tugged the fabric down, sending shivers of pleasure racing down her spine.

As the last button of her dress came undone, Azriel's lips found the sensitive hollow of her neck, his kisses growing bolder as he explored every inch of her exposed skin. With each touch, Gwyn felt herself falling deeper under his spell, lost in the ecstasy of him.

He pulled her dress lightly from the waist, causing the fabric to fall and pool around her feet. She gasped as the cool air hit her now-exposed breasts, swiftly changing to a moan as Azriel’s mouth sucked and licked one of her peaked nipples. His hand tweaked the other, the bite of pain sending waves of pleasure to her core. She could feel herself getting slicker with each touch from his calloused hands, from each flick of his tongue.

While moving back up her body, he gazed at her and then gently caressed her cheek, sending more tingles throughout her entire body. Gwyn's breath hitched in her throat as she leaned in to feel his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt his calloused fingertips tracing along her soft skin.

Azriel's kiss, perfect and passionate, ignited a wild fire inside her, threatening to engulf her completely. With a soft moan, Gwyn pressed herself closer to him, her hands tangling in the fabric of his shirt as she deepened the kiss, getting completely lost in the moment.

Their kisses became more intense, more desperate, as they surrendered to the fiery passion that ignited between them. Azriel's hands moved across her body, tracing the shape of her figure with a reverence that erased any worries from her mind.

With a sudden burst of self-assurance, Gwyn boldly grabbed Azriel's shirt, her hands shaking as she undid the buttons and removed the fabric to uncover the chiseled lines of his chest and abdomen. She had witnessed it before, but the sight of his skin illuminated by the gentle moonlight coming through the tall windows took her breath away. She had never seen anything more beautiful than him.

Azriel's eyes burned with longing as he took in her flushed cheeks and widened pupils, his own arousal evident in the way his chest heaved with each ragged breath, and his cock strained against his pants. He lifted her into his arms with a gentle tenderness that stole her breath.

As he lowered her onto the mattress, he watched her intensly. She reached up to trace the contours of his face, committing every detail to memory as if afraid she might forget any detail of this night.

Azriel smiled, a slow, seductive curve of his lips that sent a thrill racing through her veins. He lowered himself down to claim her in a kiss that left them both breathless and hungry for more, pushing his hardened length against her, making her moan into his mouth.

Thoughts eddied from her head as she let all the euphoric sensations take over. Azriel began to kiss and lick a path down her body before settling between her legs. She couldn’t help but look, having read this scenario so many times in her books. The lived experience was already proving so much better.

He kissed the sides of her thighs, over the fabric of her underwear before his hands came to the waistband of them. He looked up at her before proceeding further. She gasped at the sight of him, his tousled hair and burning eyes. It was so glorious she felt halfway to finding her pleasure already. She nodded for him to continue, and his answering smirk had her almost bucking upwards to get her core closer to his mouth.

As he pulled down her undergarments, exposing her fully to him, he took a moment to just look at her, making her feel too exposed and vulnerable.

“Everything okay down there?” she joked. Teasing was their easiest form of communication and seemed especially appropriate right now.

“Just appreciating the view,” he quipped back. He didn’t give her a chance to answer before pressing his lips against her sex, his tongue reaching out to circle her clit. She gasped out at the first contact, understanding why the females in her books loved this so much. Azriel’s skilled tongue worked her until she was a panting mess. When he brought his fingers up, running them through her slick centre she moaned so loud she was thankful no one was home. As he pushed them inside her, it took only moments before she shattered, coming hard against his tongue, panting out his name over and over. He worked her through the waves of her climax until she was breathless and thoughtless.

He kissed his way back up her body, giving her that damned smug look that he knew she hated.

“Everything you dreamed of, priestess?” he teased.

She smirked. “It was okay.”

His hand returned to her clit, massaging it until she was coming again, unable to maintain the smirk on her face anymore, gripping his shoulders as she threw her head back to moan out in pleasure.

"Prick!" she panted out as she came down from her second high.

"I’m just getting started, Berdara. How do you want it?"

Even the way he talked was turning her on, feeling her core tighten once more, needing him inside her.

"Let me be on top… for the first time," she told him. This was the control she needed. She’d read it in books with females who had experienced similar trauma to hers. This was a reclaiming of her body and sexuality, and her being on top was optimal for that.

Azriel didn’t question it as he moved off the bed quickly to divest of his trousers and undershorts before moving them to the position she’d asked for. Her mouth went dry as she took in the whole of him. He was a god walking among mortals. She had to shake her head to get back into the moment, stop worshipping his body with her eyes.

She hovered just over his straining erection as he waited patiently for her to make her move. She took a few breaths.

In theory, she was definitely ready… but now…

“We don’t have to, Gwyn,” Azriel assured her, rubbing soothingly up and down her thighs. Looking at his unique scars eased something inside her. She would know those hands in the dark; they made her feel safe. No one had them, and although she knew he hated his scars, she loved them.

She took them in her own and placed them on her breasts where she could feel, touch, and see them.

“Keep them here,” she told him, and he nodded in acknowledgment.

She took one more calming breath before lowering herself down slowly. They both moaned at the first contact as the tip of his cock pushed inside her. Her cunt wanted more, her mind agreeing as she sank further down, loving the fullness of him inside her. His hands squeezed her breasts lightly, and she guessed he felt the same. His eyes were closed, his mouth open to moan out as she went all the way down until they were fully joined. She groaned in relief before she started moving.

“Fuck, Gwyn. You feel amazing,” Azriel panted out, and it only spurred her on more. She began to ride him as he played with her breasts, squeezing her nipples. The sensation of it all was driving her wild. She canted her hips, her clit trying to find more of him to rub against.

“Let me use my hand,” he begged, and she nodded.

Azriel’s hand flew to her clit, applying gentle pressure exactly as she needed. She gripped the hand against her breast as she rode against the other. It felt intense in the best way.

“I’m close,” she cried out.

“Me too,” he answered.

A few more strokes and thrusts, and they were both coming in a symphony of moans and groans. She felt Azriel’s warm release rush inside her, and he continued to circle her clit as her walls clenched tightly around him. They continued to pleasure each other until every last drop of ecstasy was wrung out.

Gwyn collapsed in a panting mess onto Azriel’s chest, his arms encircling her, rubbing her back. He moved to kiss the top of her head in a gentle gesture, one she was sure people rarely saw from the feared shadowsinger. She lay contently on top as they both tried to catch their breath.

“Was that ‘okay’?” Azriel teased after a few moments.

Gwyn laughed against his chest. She carefully extracted herself and collapsed beside him on the bed.

“We'll have to do it again so I have something to compare it to,” she quipped back, and Azriel pulled her close to kiss her.

“Agreed,” he said against her lips before rolling over onto her. How his cock was so hard again already, she had no idea, but as he pushed himself back into her, she became a writhing mess once more as he coaxed out orgasm after orgasm.

They continued that way for hours. She didn’t know where they got the stamina, but the sun was almost rising by the time they fell asleep, completely spent in each other's arms.

She awoke a few hours later, letting out a content sigh, the ache between her legs a reminder of the amazing night she had. She rolled over to see if Azriel was up for another round before she left, but he was already gone. She tried not to take it personally and moved to find her crumpled dress on the floor. They had made no promises. Maybe he just wanted that one night.

She dressed quickly, sneaking through the house down to the library, thankful no one saw her, and tried very hard not to feel the sting of rejection.

Chapter Text

Seven weeks had passed since that unforgettable night with Azriel. She dreamt about it every night, recalling how he had made her feel, everything she had learned... and how he was gone the next morning. She was still sour about that part. Although, that bitterness was being overshadowed by the wave of nausea she had been feeling all morning.

She just needed to get through these last few squats, then she could sit down. Come on, Gwyn, just three more, she encouraged herself inwardly. But her body had other plans.

The wave hit her fast, and she ran, clutching her stomach, toward the side of the ring where a bucket of water sat. That would have to do. Without a second thought, she stumbled toward it, falling to her knees, barely managing to reach it before she doubled over, retching violently as her body rebelled against her. She hadn’t vomited like that in years. Her whole body was sweating in the bitter chill of winter as she emptied the contents of her stomach over and over.

Nesta, Emerie, Cassian, and Azriel rushed to her side, concern etched on their faces as they watched her struggle. "Oh gods! Gwyn, are you okay?" Nesta asked, her voice laced with worry as she placed a comforting hand on Gwyn's back, rubbing circles as she continued her struggle.

Gwyn shook her head weakly, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she tried to regain her composure. "I-I don't know," she managed to choke out, her voice hoarse with exertion. "I just–I felt sick."

Azriel knelt beside her next, his brows furrowed with concern as he reached out to brush a lock of hair away from her face, which was deftly stuck to her from the sweat. They hadn’t spoken properly in weeks, and now this was his first proper look at her. She thanked the Mother for nothing.

"Maybe we should get Madja to take a look at you," he suggested gently, his voice filled with unease.

Gwyn shook her head stubbornly, the thought of seeking medical attention making her feel even more nauseous. She hated going to healers. The last time was after Sangravah, and they had such pity in their eyes for her it made her sick.

"No, it's fine," she insisted, trying to force a reassuring smile despite the queasiness still churning in her stomach. "It's probably just... food poisoning or something. Just give me a minute."

But Nesta was having none of it. "Azriel’s right," she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You need to get checked out. Just to be sure."

Reluctantly, Gwyn nodded, knowing that there was no point in arguing with Nesta when she had made up her mind about something. With the help of Azriel, she managed to pull herself to her feet, feeling weak and unsteady as she leaned heavily against him for support.

"I’ll take her," he said to the group as they looked on in concern. Nesta and Emerie hesitantly nodded, not wanting their friend to be alone. But it was nothing serious, so Gwyn reassured them it was fine. She’d be back at training in no time.

___________________

Together, they made their way to Madja's office, where the healer greeted them with a concerned frown as she took in Gwyn's pale complexion and clammy skin. "What seems to be the problem?" she asked, her voice gentle as she ushered them inside.

Gwyn hesitated, feeling a surge of anxiety knotting in her stomach, along with another wave of nausea, as she struggled to find the words to explain what was happening to her.

“She got sick at training. She thinks it might be food poisoning,” Azriel answered for her. She tried to smile at him gratefully, but all movement seemed to threaten another vomiting episode.

Madja nodded, patting the examination bed as Azriel helped her up onto it gently. She kept her eyes closed, trying to concentrate on her breathing.

“I’ll wait outside,” he whispered, before squeezing her hand. It was the most contact they’d had in weeks, and she already missed it as he left. She finally felt her stomach calm enough to open her eyes. Madja waited patiently until she was ready, clipboard and pen in hand.

“Now, Gwyneth. It’s probably nothing serious, but I’m just going to run through a couple of questions with you, okay?”

Gwyn nodded in acknowledgement.

“Can you describe your symptoms?”

Gwyn reflected on the past few weeks. She had been fine until one day she wasn’t. Her breasts were tender, but with her period approaching, that didn't raise any concerns. She wasn’t sleeping great, but chronic insomnia was nothing new for her. She had been working harder than usual… so, that seemed to be the only thing she could flag.

“I’ve just been feeling run down lately. I’m always tired. My appetite has been really low. But, I’ve been training a lot, and working longer hours in the library. Sometimes I just forget to eat. And… I’ve been feeling sick the last week. Then at training this morning, I couldn’t stop it. I threw up… Maybe there’s a bug going around?”

Madja only nodded, jotting down what Gwyn had told her.

“And when was your last period?”

“It’s due in a few weeks, so the last one was about four months ago… maybe a little longer.”

Another scribble of the pen on paper, and Gwyn’s anxiety was growing.

“When’s the last time you had sexual intercourse?”

Gwyn’s cheeks flamed, and she almost choked before answering. “… about seven weeks ago.” She glanced at the door before turning her attention back to Madja, who was smiling slightly.

Madja looked up from her clipboard with kind eyes. “Do you mind lying on the bed so I can examine your abdomen?”

Gwyn nodded and lay down, while Madja ran her hands over her stomach. She noted the white light emanating from her hands, wondering how her healing magic worked, if it was like the priestesses who channelled their power through invoking stones. It only took a few moments before Madja thanked her and let her sit back up.

She made a few more notes before giving Gwyn a more serious look. Her stomach was doing somersaults with anticipation for what she’d found.

“Everything you're describing is consistent with the early stages of pregnancy… and my examination has confirmed it. You’re seven weeks along. The baby is looking very healthy,” Madja reached to grab one of Gwyn’s hands. The look on her face of pure shock must have been enough to raise Madja’s concern that she might faint. “If this is not welcome news, we can talk through your options.”

For a moment, Gwyn was speechless, her mind reeling as she struggled to process the news. Pregnant? It couldn't be possible. She had been careful, hadn't she? Well… no. But surely, Azriel was drinking the contraceptive tea?

“Are you sure?” she whispered, her eyes getting glassy with unshed tears.

Madja nodded, stroking her hand. She knew Gwyn’s history and had treated her after Sangravah. Gwyn already knew the procedure… the cleansing tea she needed to drink if she didn’t want to continue the pregnancy.

More tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as she tried to wrap her mind around the enormity of what this meant. A baby. A life growing inside her. It was overwhelming, terrifying, and yet… there was something secretly lovely and beautiful about it. So many loved ones had been taken from her too soon. She had a lot of love to give to someone… and maybe this baby was a gift from the Mother.

Madja continued speaking as Gwyn continued to run through everything in her mind. “You don’t have to tell the father straight away. You have another week before your scent will change and others will notice. If you don’t want to keep it, we can schedule an appointment soon. It’s your body and your choice, Gwyneth. There’s no pressure either way.”

Father… Azriel… Would he want this with her?

Gwyn could only nod.

“Until you make your choice, we need to make sure you’re both healthy. I’ll give you some supplements to take, and would advise you to step back from strenuous work and training for the next few months. If you want to go ahead with the pregnancy, I’ll book you in for regular check-ups until the delivery. Does this all sound okay?”

Once again, she could only nod, still lost for words. Madja gave her some anti-nausea medication to take with her, along with the supplements before helping her toward the door.

“Speak soon, Gwyneth. Remember to get plenty of rest,” Madja said. Gwyn was sure she’d said that last part louder than her normal tone so Azriel would hear it. He nodded as he took Gwyn’s arm so she could lean on him for support.

“Everything okay?” he asked, the worry still evident in his voice. It was strange to have him so close again after weeks of pining for him. Rhysand had sent him away on a mission a few days after Solstice, and when he’d returned, she made no attempts to seek him out again. She assumed he regretted their night together… so, he certainly would not be happy about this situation.

“Yeah, food poisoning. Just as I thought,” she lied. She wasn’t ready to tell him. She needed to decide what she wanted first.

He smiled at her, seeming to breathe out a sigh of relief. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

She nodded and took his outstretched hand. He winnowed and flew them back to the house, landing more gently than usual to avoid upsetting her stomach any more.

“You can go rest in my room, if you like. I’ll go to the library and let Clotho know you’re not well,” he suggested. She was too tired to argue and nodded.

He made his way to the library, and she went to his room. Even though it was dark, it was welcoming and warm. Something in her purred with happiness to be surrounded by his scent again. She went over to his bed, crawled under his sheets, inhaling deeply, letting the feeling of calm surround her as she drifted off, one hand lying protectively on her stomach.

___________________

She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept, but she sighed in contentment when a cool feeling hit her brow. Opening her eyes, she saw Nesta sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a wet rag to her forehead.

“Azriel told me you were here. How are you feeling?”

Gwyn tried her best to lie, but this was her sister. As soon as she saw Nesta, all the emotions she kept locked down flooded out of her. She burst into tears. Nesta lunged forward to hold her as Gwyn sobbed into her hair.

“I’ve messed up.”

“Shh, it’s okay. Tell me what happened,” Nesta cooed gently, stroking Gwyn’s hair soothingly.

Gwyn tried to catch her breath to speak, to explain the situation. She pulled back from Nesta to look at her. “I slept with Azriel on Solstice,” she started, and Nesta’s face was already frozen in shock. “We–I didn’t drink any tea after…”

She knew Nesta would understand what she was saying, the female who had hers every morning with breakfast without fail. Although she wanted to be a mother one day, Nesta was in no rush, suggesting to Cassian they wait for a century or two.

Nesta’s hand clasped over her mouth in shock before removing it to ask, with a glance at Gwyn’s stomach, “Are you…?”

Gwyn nodded, tears streaming down her face. She saw something break in Nesta’s eyes. She grabbed Gwyn close to her again, and stroked her hair.

“It’s going to be fine. We’ll figure this out… maybe I still have enough magic to change you too…” Nesta mumbled, half-talking to Gwyn, half to herself as she tried to figure out the next steps.

It clicked for Gwyn then… Nesta was thinking about what had happened to Feyre. How she’d changed herself for Cassian. She was worried about Gwyn having a baby with wings. About possibly losing her sister.

“You don’t need to change me,” Gwyn said with a little wet laugh. Of course, what had happened to Feyre wasn’t funny, but Nesta being so concerned for Gwyn squeezed her heart.

Nesta pulled back to look at Gwyn, worry etched on her beautiful face. “But… what if the baby has wings?”

Gwyn smiled a little. “Nymph heritage, remember?” she quipped as she pointed at her eyes, and Nesta’s body sagged a little in relief.

“Are you sure? What if it’s not enough?”

Gwyn thought back through all her years in the priestesshood. She remembered all the different types of babies who had been born, with various types of wings and skin textures. When a priestess performed the Great Rite, the magic chose the male, so it was only fair that the Mother protected her acolytes during pregnancy. The temples had the highest fertility rates in the land, all thanks to the Mother’s blessing.

“I’ll wear my invoking stone during the delivery. The Mother will keep me safe. I promise!”

She hadn’t felt worthy of that stone in so many years, but if it protected her baby, she'd do what must be done.

Nesta breathed out, one she must have been holding, and cursed out some thanks of her own to any gods listening. Gwyn already felt lighter having told someone.

She squeezed Gwyn’s hands, “So… you’re keeping it?”

Gwyn already knew the answer the moment Madja told her she was pregnant. She loved children, and having her own was always a dream. If she had performed the Great Rite, she would have raised her child alone anyway... so maybe this was how it was meant to be.

“Yes.”

Nesta beamed at her and squealed in an excited tone that Gwyn didn’t know she was capable of. “We’re having a baby! Oh gods, Emerie is going to wet herself with excitement. They are going to be so spoiled and loved, Gwyn! This is amazing!”

Gwyn couldn’t stop her smile but she was still feeling a tinge of apprehension about the situation. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy… I don’t think Azriel’s going to be.”

“Why?” Nesta asked with a mix of rage and confusion.

“We didn’t exactly plan it… we’re not even together! It was just one night,” she explained.

Nesta nodded, seeming to understand. She had plenty of fun with males before Cassian, and never once wanted anything more than one night of pleasure. It wasn’t unusual among the fae to pursue gratification without commitment.

But, of course, Gwyn would get pregnant on her first try at having some fun.

Nesta reassured her again, “Well… it doesn’t matter what he says, or how involved he wants to be. This little kid is going to have so many aunts and their uncle Cass to love them.”

Gwyn couldn’t stop more tears from bursting out again at all the support she felt. She grabbed Nesta back into her arms to sob into her neck, and her sister was happy to let her. They stayed like that for a long time.

By the time the sun was setting, Gwyn’s stomach was rumbling. Eating for two now, she supposed. She needed to start taking care of herself more.

“Let’s go for dinner,” Nesta suggested. “I’m sure the House is going to stuff you full of food,” she quipped.

Gwyn laughed. That was true. She was sure it had been listening to their whole conversation.

“I don’t want to tell anyone else right now… not until I tell Azriel first,” Gwyn told Nesta, who nodded twice in understanding.

With that, Nesta helped her out of bed and held her hand tightly all the way to the dining room. Gwyn welcomed the support and let it ground her for the more difficult conversation to come… but that could wait until tomorrow.

Chapter Text

She had gone back to the library after dinner and mulled over the best way to tell Azriel about her… situation. Should she make a joke out of it? They loved banter... it might work for this. “Hey, looks like our teamwork extends beyond training now! We’re having a baby!”

Gods, that won't work.

Should it be serious then, maybe? No teasing. Just cold, hard facts?

Maybe she should have Cassian on standby in case he fainted… or needed a drink. She'd work out that detail with Nesta.

“What do you think, baby?” she whispered in the dark.

She held her stomach to see if there was any movement, a sign, but of course she felt nothing. It was too early.

“That's okay, baby. Your dad's not much of a talker either,” she joked, and couldn’t stop the wide grin that formed. She thought about what the baby would look like, whose personality they would have. Maybe they’d have rogue genes and look nothing like their parents. Endless possibilities. Perhaps they’d be able to sing like her and Azriel. That thought pulled tightly on her heartstrings, as if a confirmation from the Mother. It was a lovely thought.

Lost in the contentment, she started to sing, a lullaby her mother would sing to her and Catrin on stormy nights. The melodies were sweet and soothing, helping her drift off to sleep. She was so tired, but it was a welcome change from the years of insomnia. She’d almost succumbed to sleep completely before she felt a wisp of something cold brush against her cheek. A shadow.

She sighed against the welcome intruder. Had Azriel sent it to check on her, or did it come on its own? Was it trying to find something?

Her eyes shot open as Azriel’s words from Solstice rang in her ears, “My shadows know a lot of secrets, including yours!”

"No, no, no!"

She noticed it twirl in front of her face before darting across the room and slipping under the door. She leaped out of bed to chase after it, dressed in her long white nightdress. She didn't have time for shoes or a robe; she needed to stop it.

It skittered down the hall of the priestess dormitory, and she ran after it, continuing to chase as it ascended the stairs to the House proper until it was just a few steps from Azriel’s bedroom door.

“Shadow!” she whispered sternly. It seemed to stop to listen. Could it understand her?

She was almost on top of it now as it hovered just outside his room. “Don’t tell him!... Please, don’t–”

The door flew open suddenly to a bare-chested Azriel. Gwyn’s breath caught at the sight of him. She forgot how gods-damned beautiful he was. “Berdara? This is a nice surprise.”

He had that glint in his eye, the same one from a couple of weeks ago. Did he send the shadow knowing she would follow it?

Gwyn froze, caught off guard by Azriel's sudden appearance. She stood there, mouth agape for a moment, trying to collect herself.

“Do you want to come in?” he asked, stepping aside to let her enter.

Maybe this was the perfect opportunity to tell him. She was still at a loss for words, though.

She nodded and walked into his room. His scent surrounded her again like the most comforting hug, and she nearly sighed in contentment. She tried to hide the effect it had on her as she walked over to his desk, running her finger along the mahogany wood, and scattered spy reports.

She didn’t even hear him come up behind her. He ran a hand up her bare arm, and her eyes fluttered closed as a shiver ran up her body. He knew what he was doing. Bastard.

"So, are you talking to me again?" he quipped, and she whipped around to look at him.

"I haven’t been avoiding you," she said defensively. Azriel raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well… you were avoiding me first!" she quietly snapped, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks.

"What makes you think that?" he teased, a mischievous grin on his face, his hands continuing to roam the expanse of skin on display.

Gwyn narrowed her eyes, frustration bubbling up. "You’ve hardly talked to me since Solstice…"

"I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. When you left in the morning, I assumed you regretted it," he explained softly, a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

She huffed in annoyance, desperately avoiding the comforting sensation of the soothing circles he was making on her arm and the sparks that ignited in her chest from his touch. He was trying to distract her, to calm her down. But she wasn't in the wrong here. They hadn't talked because of him.

"You're the one who left?" she questioned, a tinge of bitterness evident in her voice.

"I thought I’d be back by the time you woke up," he admitted sheepishly.

"Where did you go?" She shouldn't even bother letting him explain. He had seven weeks to do so and had said nothing.

"It’s stupid," he replied, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"Tell me anyway," she urged, her voice stern.

"A snowball fight…" he confessed, a faint blush colouring his cheeks.

She couldn't help but gawk at him. Was he serious? "You left me for a snowball fight?"

"I came back! But… yes. It’s a yearly tradition I have with my brothers," he explained, meeting her eyes.

Seven weeks she'd been pining for him, and he thought she was the one with regrets?

"I thought that... perhaps you considered what we did a mistake," she admitted quietly, searching his face for any sign that she was correct. She couldn’t have imagined it?

"No," he said firmly, his expression softening. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist, gazing intensely into her eyes. She thought she would melt. “No regrets, priestess.”

He moved to bury his face in her neck, his lips ghosting over her pulse as he noted, “You smell different.”

Fuck! Madja said she had a week… although he wasn’t freaking out. Maybe it was too subtle to give away her secret.

“New hair oil,” she lied, her heart racing. This didn’t feel like the right time to tell him. She’d been aching for his touch for weeks. As he began to kiss her neck, she gasped in relief. She needed this, the feel of him against her. She clawed at his shoulders, pulling him closer. He groaned as his hardened length met her aching core.

He moved to lift her onto his desk in a swift motion, and they gathered up her white nightdress to give him better access. His hand moved to feel how wet she was for him, and he growled in pleasure at what he found.

“You’ve missed me then?”

“Yes,” she gasped out.

He pulled her soaking underwear down, throwing them across his room before kneeling in front of her glistening sex. He pulled her legs a little forward on the desk before he began feasting on her. He moaned into her core, licking and sucking her clit. Her body dropped backward onto the desk as she let the sensations and noises overtake her. She writhed against his face, the friction driving her crazy. Within moments, she was a panting mess as she climaxed against his tongue. She supposed she had the pregnancy hormones to thank for her quick response.

He seemed just as desperate as her. He didn’t wait for the wave of pleasure to fully dissipate before he moved to stand, releasing his straining cock from his laced leather pants and driving himself into her soaking core.

“Fuck, you're so wet for me,” he groaned out as he began to thrust into her.

She cried out in pleasure as she felt the build of her next orgasm already. He pounded into her at a punishing pace as he massaged her clit with his hand. Through hooded lids, she watched him, sweat dripping off his brow as he moaned and cursed while he worked her. It was enough for her to come again, Azriel not far behind her.

He gathered her body up against his own as they came together, both moaning and gasping for breath. She certainly hadn’t expected this to happen, but it was everything she didn't know she needed.

“I’ve missed you too,” he whispered into her ear when he caught his breath.

She should have told him right then… but she was selfish in that moment. She wanted just a little bit longer where they were just them, enjoying each other's bodies without… complications.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” he asked in a vulnerable voice she wasn’t used to hearing from him. His classic humour returned quickly though. “Promise not to leave you this time,” he quipped. She smacked his arm playfully before nodding.

He helped her off the desk, and she headed to the bathroom to clean up. He was already under the covers waiting for her when she crawled in beside him.

They adjusted until she was snuggled with her back against his chest. She hated how right it felt to be held by him, as if it was always meant to be this way. Would it still feel the same after he knew the truth?

Azriel nuzzled into her neck, inhaling her scent greedily as his hand came to cradle her stomach, driven by an instinct he wasn’t yet aware of.

Tomorrow, she'd have to tell him... and hoped he'd still want her after.

___________________

The next morning, Gwyn woke up tangled in Azriel's arms, just like he had promised, he was still there.

The morning winter sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. She turned so she could face him. He was still asleep, looking even more handsome with his tousled hair and softened features. She reached a finger to trace along his lips. He looked so much younger when he was like this, his usual stoic sternness gone, replaced by a heartbreaking gentleness.

She supposed in Fae years, he was still young. Centuries older than her, but they had millennia left. Was he ready for this? To be a father?

The doubts swirled in her mind, threatening to overwhelm her, as Azriel cracked his eyes open to look at her.

“I can practically hear your thoughts screaming at me,” he joked. Could he really? Were his shadows telling him her secrets again?

“Your heart is racing,” he told her, reading the inquisitive expression on her face. Of course.

Calm down, she told herself. This might be the perfect moment. They were relaxed and cosy together… but how to start the conversation was the problem.

She thought for a moment before asking, “Why are you not married already, with a horde of children? You’re too handsome to be single.” The playful flattery seemed like a safe opener, but her curiosity was genuine.

With a lazy yawn and a chuckle, Azriel responded, “Just waiting for the right person, I suppose.”

So… not her then. The room seemed to constrict around her, suffocating her with its silence. Gwyn fought to keep her composure, hiding the sharp pain of disappointment that stabbed at her heart. She had hoped, even if only for a fleeting moment, that maybe she could be the one Azriel was waiting for. But his words confirmed her fears – she wasn't the right person for him.

Pushing aside the emotions threatening to tear her apart, Gwyn forced a smile, determined to maintain a facade of cool indifference. "Well, whoever she turns out to be, she's a lucky female."

Azriel's gaze softened, an expression that almost resembled pity, and Gwyn hated it. His hand reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Gwyn–I…"

She didn’t want to hear his excuses, nor did she desire cheap explanations. It was plain on his face what he felt for her. She was just his friend, with some additional benefits. Nothing more.

Cutting him off, she cleared her throat and swiftly changed the subject, eager to divert from her own vulnerability. "We should probably get up. Cassian will have our heads if we're late for training."

Azriel seemed like he might say something, but he merely nodded, disentangling himself from her. "Of course."

She was already halfway across the room as he got out of bed. The walls were closing in, and she needed to get out. The father of her child didn’t want her… and she didn’t think her heart could handle one more moment in that room.

He might have called to her again, but she was already gone, rushing down the hallway as her tears welled up. Everything was such a mess. How was she going to fix this?

Chapter Text

“Nesta, I swear to the gods, get that thing away from me or else.”

Cassian and Nesta were in an unusually playful mood at training this morning. Nesta had a black sock puppet she was calling Bryaxis, which she was currently chasing Cassian with, telling him it was going to eat his soul. Cassian was freaking out, dodging and driving between priestesses to get away from her.

He came up behind Gwyn, grabbing her by the sides.

“Don’t make me use her as a fae shield, Nesta!”

Nesta did not heed the warning, instead lunging forward as Cassian grabbed Gwyn tightly around the middle, lifting her and twirling her around to keep Nesta away, the momentum kicking out her legs at his mate.

"Cassian, put me down," Gwyn pleaded, her voice tinged with panic, but he either couldn’t hear her or thought she was joking. It went on for a few more seconds before there was a choking sound behind her and she was being dropped, falling slightly forward. She managed to catch herself with her hands, which moved quickly to instinctively cling to her stomach once she was safe.

Cassian crumbled to the floor, gasping for air as Nesta screamed. Azriel stalked towards his brother, his eyes burning with rage that Gwyn had only ever seen once before at Sangravah.

“Azriel, stop!” Nesta begged. His shadows were choking Cassian, who clawed at his neck for them to release him. The whites of his eyes streaked with red veins as he struggled.

Gwyn rushed to Azriel's side. Despite the calm facade, Azriel's actions were causing chaos for his brother. He exuded no emotion, his body as stiff as a board as Gwyn grabbed his arm. He emanated an icy fury that chilled the air around them.

"Azriel, I’m okay," Gwyn said in a soothing but stern tone, willing him to hear her. "Let your brother go now."

He looked at her, and his gaze softened. She could hear Cassian gasp as he was finally able to get air, gulping it down.

As Azriel stared at her, she could see the questions rising within himself.

“What the hell was that?” Cassian rasped out towards his brother.

Azriel's face twisted in confusion. “I–I don’t know… I just reacted.”

Nesta rushed over to Gwyn and asked in a hushed tone, “Are you okay? Did he–”

Gwyn shook her head. “We’re fine,” she whispered back. “I just got a fright.”

Nesta nodded towards the water station so they could have a private moment. Azriel moved swiftly to help his brother, apologising profusely.

“You haven’t told Az?” Nesta observed with concern, probably now worried for the safety of her mate.

Gwyn pondered Azriel's potential reaction if he knew the truth. Was every male around her in danger of his wrath? Was protecting his offspring his top priority?

“I don’t know if I can…” Gwyn confessed.

Nesta shook her head. Azriel was as much a friend to her as Gwyn. He was her family. “You have to,” she begged.

There was a movement in the corner of Gwyn’s eye and she turned to see Emerie stalking over to them. “What are you two whispering about?”

“Can we at least tell Emerie?” Nesta asked.

Gwyn nodded her head. “Not here though. Can we have a sleepover tonight?”

Both of her sisters nodded in unison. After finishing their water break, they resumed training.

Gwyn was relieved to see Cassian was quick to forgive Azriel, both of them joking about something. Azriel gave her a few more looks during training, the unknown questions building in him. The weight of hiding the truth gnawed at her, yet in her current shaken state, she felt incapable of telling him right now.

___________________

"You're pregnant?" Emerie exclaimed loudly, causing Gwyn to jump and cover her mouth with a stern look to keep quiet.

She had filled Emerie in on the events of Solstice, Madja's revelation, and why she’d confided in Nesta.

“Yes… but Az doesn’t know yet, so please keep your voice down!”

Emerie giggled into her hand, nodding in agreement. “This is amazing news though! You’re happy, right?” Emerie asked when she was free to speak again.

Gwyn shrugged. “Yes… but it’s a lot.”

“You have us, whatever happens,” Emerie said, echoing Nesta’s sentiment.

“I know… I just…” Gwyn felt like she was going to cry, again. Pregnancy hormones had amplified her feelings to uncontrollable limits. She was constantly on edge. “I don’t want my baby to grow up without their father, like I did. I never thought I cared… but I don’t even know if he’s alive. He probably doesn’t even know I exist. I don’t want that for them,” she said, her hands rubbing her still flat belly.

“Then you have to tell him,” Emerie said with kind eyes, her gaze understanding. “And if he tries to run away, me and Nesta will kill him. We’ll tell the baby it was a tragic accident,” she quipped, lightening the mood.

Nesta nodded in agreement, her serious expression suggesting there was truth in that plan.

Gwyn couldn’t help but laugh at that.

After the excitement of her pregnancy faded, they settled comfortably to read the newest Sellyn Drake.

The house doted on them as usual but provided Gwyn with not one, not two… but three slices of pistachio cake. She had suggested it let her at least finish one piece before sending another, but that only prompted it to send some extra whipped cream and raspberries to go on top.

When Nesta and Emerie asked for extra helpings, they were sent plain bowls of porridge. That set them off in a fit of laughter, the house flickering the lights as if it was snickering along with them.

Gwyn held onto these precious moments, treasuring the nights spent in the comforting presence of her sisters, and hoped life would continue this way after her little one was born.

___________________

As it grew late, they settled into their beds arranged in the library. Gwyn listened to the deep breaths from Nesta and Emerie, both fast asleep. But she couldn’t settle. She knew she wouldn’t get a decent night's rest until she talked to Azriel. So she snuck out of her bed, slipped away into the hall, and headed towards his bedroom.

His shadows greeted her as she approached, circling and nuzzling against her belly. Well, they know, she thought to herself.

She knocked lightly on his door. He must be sleeping…maybe she should leave. But she could hear him moving around, heading towards her now. She took a deep breath.

“I was hoping it was you. I could get used to these midnight visits,” he said with a smirk, reaching for her hand.

Gwyn hesitated for a moment, feeling a surge of nervousness wash over her. She returned his smile weakly, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Can we talk?" she asked in a solemn whisper.

Azriel's smirk faded, replaced by a look of concern as he gestured for her to come inside. Gwyn followed him into the dimly lit room, her stomach churning with apprehension.

Once they were seated on the edge of his bed, Gwyn took another deep breath, gathering her courage. "There's something I need to tell you," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "Something important."

Azriel's expression grew serious, his eyes searching hers for clues. "What is it?" he asked, his tone gentle and encouraging.

Gwyn swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat. As she gazed into his burning hazel eyes, she readied herself for his reaction to the news. "I'm… Az, are you okay?"

Azriel’s eyes suddenly appeared distant, as if he wasn’t fully present. She waved a hand in front of him, but there was no reaction. It took another few moments before he blinked out of whatever trance he was in and returned to the present moment.

“What was that?” she asked, a mix of curiosity and concern.

He squeezed her hand, then leaned in to kiss her cheek. “It was Rhys… I’m so sorry, I need to go,” he said, moving from the bed and quickly dressing himself in his leathers. She could only watch in a daze. There was no way she could tell him right now… his job was too important.

Azriel must have sensed her disappointment at his departure. "Stay here if you want… I should be back by sunrise. I'm sorry," he said softly, planting another gentle kiss on her other cheek before swiftly exiting the room.

She sat there for a while, wondering if she should stay or go. Opting for fewer questions in the morning, she went back to her sisters, slipping into the cosy bed the house had provided.

Though her body craved rest, her mind was a whirlwind of questions and concerns. What had prompted Rhysand to reach out so late? She tossed and turned for a few more hours before her mind finally let her sleep.

Chapter Text

"We need to tell Cassian," Nesta whispered between squats.

Gwyn shook her head. She still had another day before her scent changed, and Azriel might be back that night. If she told his brother before him, he might never forgive her.

"Tell Rhys then; he'll get him to come home," Nesta suggested next.

It was tempting, but she couldn't. Azriel's job was important; he was protecting their court. She couldn't be selfish and ask him to return... but by tomorrow, everyone was going to know she was pregnant. What would she say when they asked who the father was?

She doubted he'd told his brothers about their time together. Nesta had mentioned before that he was notoriously private about his lovers. But who else would be the father of her child? She only knew a handful of males, and only Azriel was single. She'd just have to tell them... maybe they'd have advice for her on how to break it to Azriel, gauge how he might react.

"We have dinner at the Riverhouse tomorrow... if Azriel's not back tonight, I'll tell Cassian in the morning and Rhys later," Gwyn told Nesta, who nodded in agreement.

As Cassian got closer, they returned to their usual grunts and complaints as he ran them through various exercises for the rest of the session.

___________________

He hadn’t returned, and she was out of time.

She washed and dressed quickly before making her way to the mess hall to grab a quick breakfast before training. A few other Valkyrie priestesses joined her. She noticed them sniff the air, noting the change, but it was Clotho who came up to her and handed her a note.

“Congratulations are in order,” it said, in her flowery handwriting.

Gwyn could only nod. She didn’t know why she felt uneasy at that moment. Most of the priestesses in the library had come from destroyed temples, and a lot of them had participated in the Great Rite. Maybe some had even had children of their own... it was normal among these females... but it didn’t stop the nerves from twisting her stomach.

Clotho scribbled another note on the long dining table before handing it to her. “It’s a blessing, Gwyn. The Mother smiles upon you.”

Well, that set her off. Gwyn burst into tears, and within moments, she was being pulled into a body, as another wrapped around from behind, and other hands found her in comfort.

“It’s okay, Gwyn. We’re all here for you,” it was Deirdre cooing gently in her ear, one hand stroking her hair.

"The first baby Valkyrie," quipped Roslin. Everyone agreed, joyous laughter and talk surrounding her. It eased her heart. This baby was going to have the biggest found family ever.

She heard some more scribbling, but Clotho folded the note and placed it in Gwyn’s hands with a reassuring smile. The elder priestess clapped her hands so the others went back to their breakfast and on to their next duties.

When she had a private moment, she finally read it.

"Azriel will be overjoyed. Have faith," it said, and Gwyn almost cried again. She clung to those words and didn’t even question how Clotho knew. Maybe she could scent it, although all Gwyn noticed was her own smell mixed with something subtle; delicate and powdery.

She took a deep breath as she finished ascending the stairs and got ready to enter the training ring. This was the first of many encounters today, and she could only hope the others would be as supportive.

___________________

“You’re five minutes late, Berdara. Give me twenty laps—fuck! Why are you hitting me?” Cassian snapped at Nesta, who jabbed an elbow sharply into his ribs.

Emerie answered, “No more extra laps or extreme exercises for Gwyn.”

“Oh yeah? Are you her trainer now? She will do—” Cassian’s words cut off as Gwyn made her way closer. The wind picked up, and she noticed his nostrils flare.

“Gwyn… you’re?”

She nodded. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting next, but Cassian rushing to her, picking her up, and hugging her was not it. She forgot he only looked like a menace. Truthfully, he was the biggest softy.

“Gods! This is incredible! It’s Azriel’s, right? Am I going to be an uncle again?”

“You’re going to be an uncle,” she confirmed, and he hugged her just a little tighter. “How did you know?” she asked curiously.

“Because the broody bastard has been happy recently, and you’re the only person who does that to him.”

Gwyn blushed. She doubted that was true.

Cassian finally released her. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.”

“…He doesn’t know,” Gwyn confessed, and Cassian’s eyes went as wide as saucers.

“Wha—why?”

“Because he’s been away,” Gwyn quipped, trying to deflect slightly that she’d also been too much of a coward to tell him before it was too late.

Cassian ran a hand through his hair, “Tell Rhys, we can get him back here tonight.” It looked like he was attempting to mentally call his brother.

“No! Cass… I’ll tell Rhysand tonight, but I don’t want Azriel to come back. Let him do his job,” she reasoned. Cassian didn’t look convinced.

“He’s not going to be happy about this… he’d want to know.”

“Let’s just talk to Rhysand first. Maybe Azriel is due back soon. We need a plan.”

Cassian nodded reluctantly, and they went back to the others to start training.

“Nesta, Emerie. Ten laps each because Gwyn was late.”

The Valkyries groaned but went to the start line in the sand to begin their sprints.

“What about me?” Gwyn asked.

Cassian smirked, “Walk a few laps of the ring, nice and gentle! Don’t want anything happening to my little niece or nephew.”

Gwyn playfully rolled her eyes but followed her orders without complaint. She wasn't about to protest if it meant taking it easy during training for a few months. As she passed her sisters with a gentle pace, she winked at them, observing their vigorous sprints back and forth. Fortunately, they simply laughed it off. She was sure one day roles would be reversed.

___________________

They hadn’t made it past the foyer before Feyre was screaming with joy and running towards Gwyn, arms open.

Did Nesta tell her?

“Oh my gods, I remember that scent! Congratulations!! How did Azriel keep this a secret?”

Seriously, was it that obvious that they were…something?

Feyre was hugging Gwyn as she replied, “Well… um… he doesn’t know yet—”

“Rhys!” Feyre shouted, causing Gwyn to mouth oww as her ears rang.

“Yes, Feyre darling,” Rhysand replied, sauntering casually towards them.

“Call Azriel right now, he needs to come home,” she told her mate, a clear High Lady command.

“No!” Gwyn protested loudly.

Rhysand looked at her, a mixture of confusion and curiosity before he scented it. His hand flew to his mouth as his violet eyes found her, sparkling with stars.

“Mother’s blessing, a baby! Gwyneth… this is wonderful news.” His eyes were glassy, and it touched her heart to see the joyous emotion her news brought Azriel’s family.

Morrigan had copied Feyre, hugging her and kissing her cheek with whispered congratulations.

Once a round of hugs were done, they moved into the dining room, taking their seats. Rhysand insisted she sit beside him so they could talk more.

“So, Azriel doesn’t know?” he confirmed with her.

She shook her head.

“I can have him back tonight… just say the word,” he offered next, but she couldn’t do it.

“His court means everything to him, and his job is important...”

“You’re more important to him, Gwyn.”

She let out a laugh of disbelief. She was just a friend… a lover at most. Nothing more. Rhysand seemed to read her denial and moved to grab her hand.

“He’d want to be home… to be here for you. Let me bring him back,” he asked, and this time she found herself nodding. He smiled in return and said no more, correctly assuming that pushing the issue might make her change her mind again.

Feyre started with the questions next, asking about due dates and first-trimester symptoms. She gave Gwyn all types of tips and tricks to deal with the nausea and hormones, and Gwyn would be forever grateful.

“Wait until your second trimester, when that sick feeling goes and all you want is sex!”

Gwyn nearly spit out her drink.

“The rooms are sound-warded, right?” Rhys quipped to Nesta and Cassian, who laughed.

Gwyn was roaring red listening to them make jokes. She wasn’t sure sex was going to be on the table once she told Azriel… they weren’t even a couple. She had shared enough about the baby and felt their personal relationship, whatever it was, should be between them. So she laughed along with their banter, happy when it deflected to Cassian and Nesta being bombarded with kids' questions.

“Two more centuries,” Nesta quipped as Feyre replied, “I give it a year!”

The dinner went by slower than usual as Gwyn counted down the minutes until Azriel would be home and they could finally talk.

___________________

"Gwyn? Nesta told me you were in here. I’m sorry it's so late, I just–”

The sound of Azriel's voice cut through the candle-lit darkness in the small library where she’d been camping out. She knew sleeping wasn’t an option tonight, so had opted for a book which she failed to read as she waited for him to get back.

Without a second thought, she raced towards him, her heart pounding with relief at the sight of him. She launched herself, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding him tightly as if afraid he might disappear if she let go. "Thank the Mother!"

“Hi to you too,” Azriel chuckled, his warm breath tickling her ear as he returned the embrace.

“I'm sorry... I just–you're here!” Gwyn's voice trembled slightly with concern, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

“Yeah, I am... but I might have to go away more often if this is the hello I get,” he joked, his playful tone easing some of the tension in the air.

Gwyn moved to kiss him, overwhelmed with a need to be close to him. The heat between them ignited but fizzled quickly as Azriel halted. She pulled back slightly, searching his face for answers.

“What's wrong?” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as their lips still hovered inches apart.

Azriel's silence only deepened her unease, and she felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach. He could scent it.

But he said, “Nothing.”

His actions spoke louder than words, though. Gwyn could feel the tension of his body, the uncertainty clouding his features.

“Were you around Nyx today?” he asked, obviously trying to find an explanation.

“No,” she said softly.

His brows scrunched together, “But… you smell like–”

Gwyn’s face said everything she couldn’t. There was no need for words anymore.

“What... how long?...Is it mine?” Azriel exclaimed lightly.

That last statement ignited her anger. “Of course it's yours!”

With a swift movement, she pushed him away, needing the distance to collect her thoughts and rein in her emotions. How could he ask that!

“Gwyn... I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have–When?”

She gritted her teeth as she answered, “Solstice.”

“Th–that was two months ago... Why didn't you tell me?” Azriel's voice wavered, his own emotions laid bare.

“I tried... I only found out a few days before you left.” Gwyn's voice cracked slightly, the weight of her confession heavy on her shoulders.

“Fuck!” Azriel exhaled, thick with frustration and possibly regret. But before Gwyn could ease his conscience that she expected nothing from him, he launched into a flurry of plans and promises, each one ringing hollow in her ears.

“Don't worry. It's going to be fine. We'll get Clotho to marry us... maybe find a townhouse in the city with enough space. I'll tell Rhys no more extended missions…”

As he spoke of marriage and a forced future together, Gwyn felt a bitter laugh bubble up inside her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Where was the love? Dating, getting to know each other’s darkest secrets, making real promises. She didn’t want this.

“Azriel, stop,” she said flatly.

“What, Gwyn? I'm trying to be practical here,” Azriel snapped back.

“So romantic!”

He rolled his eyes at her, as if she was being ridiculous. “Well, we kind of skipped a lot of relationship milestones, but what’s done is done–”

“Do you even want to be with me?” she interrupted. She knew the answer. A big, fat no.

"Yeah... I mean, of course," he replied with little conviction, causing her heart to ache. "You're having my baby!" he added next, his tone carrying a sense of being trapped, as though he were being led away in handcuffs. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her, or perhaps she just wanted to laugh at how tragic it all was.

She maintained her mask of indifference, determined not to show any cracks. She had no intention of pressuring him into a relationship with her.

"So..." she said flatly, leaving the sentence hanging in the air.

It was clear Azriel was getting frustrated with her as he said, “So, I'll do the right thing by you…”

Gwyn couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her. “You’ll do the right thing by me? Don’t do me any favours. You're not stuck with me,” she snapped back.

“You’d be surprised!” he quipped sharply.

“What does that mean?”

Azriel lowered his head, refusing to meet her gaze as he answered, “There’s something I need to tell you…”

Chapter Text

Gwyn had a secret, but Azriel did too. One of many, but this one was perhaps the most paramount.

He had a mate.

Looking back over the past year and a bit, it seemed glaringly obvious now, but the shock of it all had knocked him. He had accepted that the Mother didn’t deem him worthy enough for one, and it was time to abandon the idea of a mate. His brothers were better males than him, which he knew, so of course, they got blessed.

He’d tried dating, contacted past lovers to see if maybe he’d ended their relationships too soon, if there was something to build on, but nothing. No female made him feel anything inside. No excitement, no spark.

Well, except Gwyn.

But she wouldn’t want him. She didn’t want any males as far as he knew. But he couldn’t stop himself from picturing what life with her would be like.

She would fit in so perfectly. They would date for a few years, take it slow… at her pace. Maybe one day get married, and he’d build them a house, somewhere quiet, near his mother’s home. They could adopt some children in a century or two, raise them with Nesta and Cassian’s kids.

It was a dangerous dream. She wasn’t interested, and he was falling back into the same patterns of obsessing in a one-sided relationship like he’d done with Mor.

But on Solstice, he saw an opportunity that he had to take. She was a little tipsy, and he had a lot of Dutch courage from all the champagne he’d downed. He wasn’t going to spend five centuries pining in a corner. He was going to take his chance, consequences be damned. If she was ready to have casual sex, it would be with him. He knew what she would need. Someone with patience and understanding; he could be her safe place to explore that side of her sexuality. Maybe after a night of mind-blowing sex, he could even ask her out on a proper date, and the rest would be history.

The sex had been mind-blowing, and well… much more than he’d expected.

Watching Gwyn on top, riding him into oblivion had awoken something ancient and enigmatic inside him. He felt that undeniable pull… the tug of the mating bond… and had almost lost it. She told him not to move his hands, but he was struggling as he watched frayed gold threads try to connect to their mate. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, flip them, and pound into her until they were both screaming in pleasure. But he couldn’t do that. She needed to be the one in control.

So instead, he begged her to let him use his hands to make her come because there was little chance he’d last much longer. The bond was intense in the best way, and fucking terrifying. He knew she didn’t feel it, and he understood why his brothers had hidden their bonds from their mates. How do you tell a female who wasn’t looking for a relationship that you’re fated to be together?

Gwyneth Berdara. The female he slaughtered for, the female who made his chest spark, the female who made his shadows dance. It seemed so obvious…but why would the Mother do this? Gwyn was too good for him.

He couldn’t be her mate.

She was a warrior goddess sent to defend the innocent, and he was Death on swift wings. She was all the light in the world, while he was the darkness. This couldn’t be right…

When he left the next morning, the snowball fight had been the perfect excuse. All the creeping doubts were settling into his bones. She doesn’t want you. You’re not good enough. She deserves better. Over and over, the thoughts berated him, and he just needed some distance… some time to think.

As Gwyn ignored him for weeks after that night, he thought perhaps he was right after all. She wasn’t interested in dating him. It was just sex, nothing more. It didn’t matter if they were mates, he would never force a relationship or the bond on her if that’s not what she wanted. He could love her from afar. Be her protector and friend. He would find a way to live with it.

When she had been sick at training, something else snapped inside him, though. It wasn’t the pull of the mating bond, but more that nauseous feeling of intuition that something wasn’t quite right. He’d always been told that males couldn’t scent pregnancy until the eighth week, but something inside him knew that day.

She had sought him out that night, and he thought he should tell her then about the bond. He wanted to be around her more, to protect her from unseen threats. But he was so overcome with need for her that he could hardly think, let alone talk. She smelled so divine, like his and more. The bond was straining towards her in excitement that he couldn’t stop himself from going to his knees for her. Always for her.

The next morning, as she looked at him with questions in her eyes, he could feel her emotions through the bond, her fear and worry mixed with curiosity. For her question about marriage, he should have said, “I’ve been waiting for you,” because that was the truth.

He had wanted a mate for as long as he could remember, someone to love him despite what he was…but this angel beside him needed someone better than him. He would ruin her. So he gave her a cowardly answer that he knew hurt her, and he pitied that she cared about him so much as he watched something break inside her. Why did she care about him? There was nothing to love.

She could have anyone she wanted; she didn’t need him. It would be settling to be with him. It didn’t matter that he loved her more than words could convey...and not just because of the bond. She was brave and courageous. She fought her inner demons with zeal, inspiring others to do the same. She was amazing. And it was because he loved her that he knew he shouldn’t encourage her to want more from him. But he really wanted her too…

The battle inside himself was constant and exhausting. The bond fought with his mind, both contending on the same side with different reasoning. The bond wanted their mate, his mind desired her protection. And it was driving him crazy.

Then she wanted to talk. He knew she was going to say she didn’t want to continue whatever was going on between them, that she needed more than just sex. He technically wanted that…well, no… he didn’t want that at all. But it was better if she told him to leave her alone. He’d respect it.

He thanked the Gods above for Rhysand’s interruption and flew faster than ever before to the Riverhouse.

His brother had questioned him, sensing something was amiss, but he shoved down his feelings, masked in calmness as Rhys told him about the mission that would have him stationed at Autumn for a while. He thought maybe the distance from Gwyn would help.

He hadn’t expected to have a change of heart though. There were hours to stew alone in his thoughts, and he came to the conclusion that perhaps, maybe… she’d be happy he was her mate. Or at least he had to tell her. She should have a choice too, and maybe there was a chance she would pick him.

They were great friends, had a lot in common. And the sex was…certainly the best he’d ever experienced. He was ready to tell her the truth. He’d commit himself wholly, he promised the gods, if they would just end this fucking mission.

It had only been six days without her scent, her laugh, her touch… and he was dying.

“Rhys?” he called in his mind.

“Hello, brother… any movement?” Rhysand answered promptly.

“Nothing. I don’t think the intel was correct. Maybe Eris was lying,” he stated, though he knew Eris wasn't. Something was happening at the Autumn Court, but Azriel didn’t care. He wanted to see his mate. Let this place burn, he thought to himself.

He heard Rhys chuckle in his mind. “Missing a certain priestess?”

“What? No…” Azriel murmured, unconvincingly. Of course, Rhys knew something was happening between them. The bastard knew everything.

Rhys chuckled once more. “Sure, brother! Well… if there’s no movement, you should return.”

Azriel thought for a moment. This was going to be their life if Gwyn chose him. He had to go on long missions, and he couldn’t run back to her every time he missed her. Maybe this was good practice for them both, even if he absolutely hated it.

“Just… tell me she’s okay?” Azriel asked, resigning himself to another who knows how many days stalking the perimeter of the Autumn Court.

“She’s more than okay.”

That piqued his interest. “What do you mean?”

Rhysand paused for a moment before answering, clearing his throat. “Nothing. She’s just thriving…as always. Eagerly waiting for your return.”

Azriel’s spymaster senses were tingling. “How do you know?”

“She asked me when you’ll be home.”

His heartbeat picked up speed.

“What did you tell her?” Some cautious excitement bubbled up in Azriel that his mate might have missed him as much as he missed her.

“That I’d get you back tonight.”

Azriel couldn’t hide the hint of surprise and joy in his voice. “...Really?”

“Really.” He could hear his brother smile. Azriel didn’t need to hear anything else, shutting up his mental shields. If his mate wanted him home, and he had the permission to leave his post, then he’d go straight to her. He spent a few hours briefing some spies to cover him before winnowing back to the House of Wind.

___________________

He was surprised to find Nesta heading towards the kitchen. She stopped to embrace him. “You’re home!” she exclaimed.

This was ideal really; he could have sent a shadow to get Gwyn, but Nesta would be more welcome. After a few pleasantries, he asked, “Can you do me a favour?”

“Of course,” she replied without hesitation.

“Will you go down to the library dorms and get Gwyn for me?”

One of Nesta’s eyebrows shot up in intrigue. “And why would I do that, shadowsinger?” she teased.

He rolled his eyes. “Nesta! Please… will you just…?”

She chuckled before telling him with a wink, “You’re in luck. She’s waiting for you in the private library.”

“What–why?”

“Go find out,” she said with a conspicuous smile, conveying she knew exactly why. Something had obviously happened when he was gone, but even his shadows were quiet and suspicious.

He gave Nesta a goodbye hug before making his way to Gwyn.

She was even more radiant than he’d remembered. Her hair gleamed like melted copper in the candlelight. And when she was in his arms, he was home. He never wanted to be anywhere else. His mate, his life, his love. She really had missed him…

How it all went downhill so quickly, he wasn’t sure.

His emotions were already all over the place with the secret he’d been keeping, and she had one of her own, just as monumental.

The panic he felt caused stupid things to come out of his mouth. Talking before he could think…and he could feel her emotions, all of them…and he hated himself. This was all his fault.

But apparently, marriage, or being with him at all wasn’t an option? Why was she pushing him away? It wasn’t just sex; she had to know that…right? It was a shock…but he was happy. His mate was pregnant. They were now bound by something. But…he still needed to tell her about the bond.

This was his chance…he needed her to understand that he wasn’t being forced to be with her because they were having a baby; they were meant to be together…written in the stars, fated…but she was so angry and he was an idiot.

“You’ll do the right thing by me? Don’t do me any favours. You're not stuck with me,” Gwyn snapped at him.

“You’d be surprised!” he quipped sharply.

“What does that mean?”

Azriel lowered his head, refusing to meet her gaze as he answered, “There’s something I need to tell you…”

He took a deep breath and prepared himself. He wasn’t sure how she would take this news, but he couldn’t hide it anymore.

Chapter Text

“Gwyn, you’re… you’re…” He paused, sniffing the air, his eyes panicked. “Bleeding!”

“What?” She smelled it then, the tang of metal. Her heart stopped. Azriel could have been talking to her, but all she could focus on was the drops of blood on the floor.

“Find Rhys. Get Madja here now!” Azriel was shouting at someone...something. She felt his arms around her body, scooping her up in an easy motion before they were on the move.

“You’re okay, my love. It’s going to be fine,” he consoled her as a few of his shadows nuzzled against her stomach. Tears streamed down her face, unnoticed until now.

Azriel placed her gently on his bed, whispering to his shadows about something and loudly begging the house for some water. It answered promptly, with a glass appearing on his nightstand.

“Drink this, Gwyn,” he said, placing the glass in her hand. It felt cool against the feverish temperature of her skin. What was happening?

Shadows twirled around Azriel’s ears, informing him of something before Rhysand and Madja appeared at the door.

“It’s okay, dear. I’m here to check you over. Everything is going to be fine,” Madja stated as she made her way across the room. It did little to help Gwyn feel calm.

Was she losing the baby? This was how most Fae pregnancies went; she’d known a few females who’d lost their babies…but she had been convinced she’d be protected by the Mother. Was she being punished?

“Azriel, go get some linen strips from Nesta,” Madja commanded before Gwyn screamed out, “No! Please…I need him to stay,” she begged through tears. His scent and presence at that moment seemed to be the only thing stopping her from falling apart.

“I’ll go,” Rhysand offered, squeezing his brother's shoulder as he left. Azriel moved quickly around his bed, manoeuvring himself beside Gwyn. She grabbed his hand to hold as he kissed her on the head, whispering that it was going to be okay.

Madja began her examination, working silently. Gwyn imagined she’d seen this thousands of times in her career. How did females do this? She already loved this baby more than anything. She couldn’t lose them. She had already lost too much.

Madja poked and prodded for a while, her face unreadable. Gwyn held her breath the whole time, afraid of the sobs that would be released.

She felt Azriel’s hand tighten around her, as his shadows began their whispers. This was it. They knew the truth.

Madja sighed, “Your baby is perfectly healthy. You have a slightly ruptured blood vessel on the embryonic sac. Nothing to be concerned about. But you should rest for a few weeks, and call me if it gets worse.”

Gwyn gasped out a breath, along with tears of relief. “So…they’re okay?”

Madja smiled at her. “They’re perfectly happy. Remember what we talked about, though—no stress. You need to create a calm space for recovery.” She glanced at Azriel with what seemed like a slight warning. Gwyn didn’t turn to see what his expression was. She was too happy.

“No more stress, I promise,” she confirmed to Madja.

“No stress…” Azriel repeated too, quieter than her.

Madja cleaned up and gave Gwyn a few potions before leaving them. Rhysand had returned briefly to drop off some linen strips before escorting Madja back to her home.

Gwyn couldn’t stop herself from grabbing onto Azriel once they were alone. He held her just as tight. They stayed like that for a while, quietly thanking the gods that everything was alright.

As she yawned for the third time, he whispered into her hair, "You should get some rest."

“You’ll stay with me?” It wasn’t as much a question as a demand. Azriel nodded.

He excused himself briefly to shower and change for bed before rejoining her. She was done pretending she didn’t need him tonight, wrapping her arms and legs around him, entangling their limbs.

“What were you going to tell me…before all this?” Gwyn asked him, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

Azriel gave her a small smile before moving to place a kiss on her lips. “Nothing. It can wait.”

Gwyn could only manage a nod, her eyes closing as sleep beckoned. She turned to snuggle closer into him.

“Sweet dreams, priestess,” Azriel said as he moved a wing to cocoon her while she placed a protective hand on their baby, his joining hers soon after.

She felt an overwhelming sense of safety wash over her, like a warm blanket enveloping her entire being. His reassuring presence and protective embrace were all she needed to feel secure, and maybe she could raise their baby alone…but in that moment, she didn’t want to contemplate it. She just wanted this.

___________________

The next few weeks passed quickly. Azriel was at her beck and call for everything; he’d hardly let her out of his bed. She felt like a mother bird trapped in a nest. But she couldn’t complain. He brought her food whenever she needed it, helped her bathe if she asked, fluffed her pillows without asking, filled her in on training, and how the new recruits were getting on.

She enjoyed just getting to know him more too, and all his little quirks that she doubted people got to see. Like the little noises he made when he was having a nightmare, and how running her hand through his hair stopped them. Or how he rolled out of bed, right into a push-up formation and did fifty before starting the day. And the way he put on his socks, right foot first…always. She wondered what he’d noticed about her.

They’d talked briefly about their relationship, or lack thereof, and decided to define it some other time to avoid any stress. But they did agree she’d stay with him, snuggled up right against him each night, where he could keep her safe, for the rest of the pregnancy. Gwyn felt herself becoming needier by the day, so she was thrilled with that arrangement.

Today though, she was going a little stir-crazy. She needed to get out of the room for a while. Madja had given her the all-clear to start moving around again, and she needed to be outside, to feel the sun on her face.

Gwyn moved towards the door to go to her room and find something more appropriate to wear other than Azriel’s T-shirts and sweatpants. Not that she didn’t love being wrapped in his scent…but she missed her leathers. Maybe she could just put them on, even if she couldn’t train.

As her hand twisted the knob and the door opened, she was met with a wall of shadows.

“Where are you going?”

She tried to feel through them, “Azriel?”

“Why are you up?” The shadows cleared enough for her to see the concerned look on his face.

She pushed past him and answered as he followed, “Madja gave me the all-clear. I want to go outside for a bit.” She turned to give him a flirty look to try to ease the tension on his furrowed brow. “You can help me get into my leathers!”

She saw the momentary rise of the corner of his lip as he contemplated it before his face dropped again. “You’re not training!”

She rolled her eyes. “I know that…I just want to put them on.”

He cocked a brow but followed her into her room. She would never admit out loud that she was enjoying how easy it was to boss him around these days. He was determined that she felt no stress, as Madja ordered. And maybe she was taking advantage…just a little.

Now she was thinking she should have just stayed in bed.

“Just keep pulling; the button is nearly closed!” she exclaimed as Azriel struggled to close the top buttons of her leather jacket.

“Gwyn…they’re too big,” he said, trying not to smirk at her breasts, which were perhaps a size or two larger than before.

“Laugh and you die, shadowsinger. Get my pants,” she demanded with a huff of annoyance, pointing to them. Her hormones had her running hot and cold, but luckily Azriel didn’t seem fazed as he diligently kneeled before her so she could step in.

Moments later, she was in a sweat as she panted, “What do you mean they won’t go up anymore?” Her trousers were stuck just below her bum, refusing to budge any further.

“We’ll get bigger ones,” Azriel said, avoiding her question.

She felt tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t want bigger ones…these are my leathers!” The ones Nesta gave her. The ones she wore when she became the first Valkyrie.

As she made the mistake of glancing at herself in the mirror, her pants stuck around her thighs and her jacket struggling to contain her growing breasts, she burst into tears at the ridiculous sight.

“Fuck…Gwyn, don’t cry! Please! You’re growing a baby, it happens,” Azriel reassured her, pulling the pants back down again. He went to her wardrobe to grab some leggings, probably praying they would fit.

Gwyn tried to stop her crying. She knew it was silly, but if she couldn’t wear her leathers anymore, it only solidified that she wouldn’t be training for months. And she missed it…missed being with her sisters every day, not that they didn’t visit whenever possible. But she missed having a purpose.

Azriel redressed her in silence, in comfy leggings and an oversized jumper. It made her feel a bit better. He pulled her in for a hug, stroking her hair until she calmed down.

“Still want to go up to the training ring?” he asked in a soothing voice.

She shook her head. The ordeal had left her exhausted.

“Want to go to the kitchen and eat chocolate cake?” he asked next. She could feel his smile against her hair.

She nodded.

___________________

They ate enough cake for three people... each, before heading back to his room. Gwyn could hardly keep her eyes open. No one ever told her pregnancy was so exhausting. It seems all she did these days was eat and sleep.

Her nap turned into a long sleep, but when she woke the next morning, she found a new set of leathers along with a note:

They just needed a little stretch! See you at training, Az xxx

As she dressed in her new leathers, she noted all the alterations that had been made: elasticated panels on the sides of the pants and jacket, leathers that could grow with her changing body. Azriel had listened to her and remade her leather. Something in her chest sparked as she tried not to cry again.

Chapter Text

Gwyn felt amazing in her new leathers, maybe even sexy, which was not something she’d felt in weeks. She and Azriel cuddled every night, sometimes kissed, but they had done nothing else. And Gwyn was beginning to feel…needy.

As she entered the ring, the shadowsinger flashed her a grin when he saw her donning her new maternity leathers. He was working with the new recruits on the other side, mid warm-up. She left him to it.

Nesta and Emerie were at her side in an instant, smothering her with hugs.

"The leathers are perfect," Emerie gasped, moving to twirl Gwyn so she could get a better look.

"Did you alter them?" she asked with curiosity. Emerie was the only seamstress she knew.

But she shook her head. "No, I just got the material. Azriel did the sewing." There was a gleeful smile on Emerie’s face, which told her Azriel had been teased mercilessly about this already.

Nesta snickered before coughing to hide her laugh.

It didn’t seem as funny to Gwyn, though. It made her feel things. “Azriel can sew?” Gwyn asked, swallowing thickly. The idea of him in deep concentration at a sewing machine, remaking her leathers to fit her new shape, had her clenching her thighs.

Emerie smiled knowingly as she nodded.

Gwyn glanced over at the shadowsinger again, who was currently topless on the sunny spring day. Sweat trickled down the muscular planes of his chest and abs, and as his scent hit her, she almost groaned out loud.

The male who took care of her, who listened to her needs, the father of her child. She felt her core tighten, feeling a desperate need to have him overwhelm her.

“Oh my gods! Gwyn!” Nesta exclaimed.

She looked at her sister in confusion. “What?”

“Keep it in your pants!” Nesta whispered with a smirk before gripping her nose between her thumb and index finger. Emerie let out a chuckle.

Gwyn’s cheeks flamed as she caught her changing scent then, the potency of it fanning the flames of her embarrassment higher. “Oh gods... I–I’m so sorry,” she stammered, desperately wishing the ground would swallow her up.

“Is he not doing his nightly duties?” Emerie teased with air quotes, causing Nesta to burst out laughing.

Gwyn rolled her eyes as she snapped, “We're not a couple.” She regretted her clipped tone immediately. Gods, no one was safe from her ever-changing hormones.

Emerie raised her hands in a peace gesture before Nesta chimed in, “But you're sleeping in the same bed?”

Gwyn just shrugged. “I like being close to him. It's good for the baby,” she said with a smile as she placed a hand on the little bump beginning to form. “Maybe sex would just complicate what we have going on right now.” It was the truth… mostly. Well… no. She really wanted the sex part too. But she didn't want to scare him off. She loved when he held her close at night, knowing he would keep her and their little one safe. Truthfully, she was crazy about him, and right now, she’d take any closeness over nothing.

Nesta looked at her with mischief glinting in her silver eyes. “Didn't Feyre mention that your hormones are going to make you super hor–?”

“Yes,” Gwyn sharply interjected, not letting her sister finish. She was all too aware of the new wave of hormones hitting her the last few days. As she glanced back at Azriel, her scent intensified once again, causing another burst of laughter from her friends.

“Seriously, Gwyn! You need to get him to sort you out.”

She glared at Nesta. “Just wait until you’re pregnant one day! I will have no sympathy for you.”

Emerie was kinder to her plight, pulling her in for a tight hug. “We’re sorry. We know it’s not easy for you.” She made sure Azriel wasn’t listening to them before she whispered, “Why don’t you just ask him to help you out… even just as a friend?”

“He wouldn't want to do that,” Gwyn tried to argue, but Nesta rolled her eyes as Emerie quipped, “He's a male!”

Gwyn let out a small laugh at that. They were probably right. Their sex life, or the few times they had done it, was amazing. She was sure he’d love this change in their relationship, or she prayed to the Mother he would, because she needed him… bad.

________

"I need to... talk..." Gwyn's voice trembled as she sat on his bed, trying to get the words out, her eyes darting away from Azriel's bare chest. “Fuck, can you put a shirt on or something?" she blurted out, her voice shaky. They were back in his room after training, and he hadn’t bothered, probably planning on showering. But she couldn’t concentrate with his muscles begging for her to touch them.

Azriel paused, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he reached for his t-shirt. "Em, okay..." he murmured, slipping it on with a casual ease. It didn’t help; Gwyn could still see the definition of his muscles beneath the white fabric. She tried not to moan, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

Gods, his scent, she thought, imagining herself covered in it. She almost purred in contentment.

“Are you okay?” he asked, moving to join her on the edge of the bed, noticing how strange she was acting.

“I’m fine… I’m just–" Gwyn exhaled, feeling a flush rise to her cheeks. She shifted nervously, unsure how to broach the delicate topic that had been weighing on her mind. Especially with his strong thighs brushing against hers. A shiver shot up her spine.

She groaned, "I, uh... I don't know if you've been reading up on pregnancy, but... um... my hormones are changing again... and I’m feeling… um…”

"Needy?" he guessed with a smirk, a playful glint in his eye. Although there probably wasn’t much guesswork needed with her desperate scent filling the room.

Gwyn nodded, biting her lip and clutching the sheets to stop herself from pouncing on him.

He leaned in close to her, his mouth so near her ear his hot breath ghosted over her already burning skin. His whisper was laced with lust, “You need me to take care of you, priestess?”

Gwyn moaned. "Gods... yes, Azriel. Please!" The words tumbled from her lips before she could stop them, her breath coming in quick pants of desperation.

His hands cupped her face, his lips impossibly close to hers now. "I'm happy to oblige, always," he assured her, his touch sparking something inside her.

"It will just be for a few weeks! Then they should settle and we can go back to the way things were," Gwyn promised, her lips brushing against his.

He sighed against her lips, a sound tinged with disappointment. “Right... of course.”

“You... do want that, right?” Her heartbeat quickened. He did just want to be friends...

He shook away his thoughts, a casual smile masking his true emotions. "Let's not worry about my wants. What do you want?"

"I want... I want..." Gwyn's mind raced as she grappled with her conflicting desires. She wanted his tongue to taste her, but she also wanted him to share all his darkest secrets. Fucking sounded great. Loving him sounded even better.

“I want you, Azriel… all of you,” Gwyn told him in an honest whisper, her heart pounding in her chest as she met his gaze, searching for reassurance.

Azriel's expression softened, a tender smile curving his lips as he reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from her face, delicately tucking it behind her pointed ear. "You have me," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to her insecurities.

Gwyn's breath caught in her throat, her fingers trembling slightly as they reached up to brush along his hand that lingered on her face. "For how long?" she couldn't help but ask, her voice tinged with a hint of fear.

Azriel's brow furrowed in confusion, his gaze searching hers for understanding. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... I’m not the one. I’m just the one, right now..."

Azriel's hand stroked along her cheek so gently, his eyes never wavering from hers as he shook his head slowly. "Gwyn… you’re wrong–" he insisted, his voice firm and unwavering.

"One day you’ll leave..." she interrupted, not wanting him to make promises he couldn’t keep. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach at the thought of never feeling his touch again as she nuzzled into his palm.

His thumb traced comforting circles on her face, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through her. "I’m never going anywhere," he vowed, his tone filled with quiet determination.

Gwyn wanted to believe that so badly. “How do you know?”

“You just have to trust me.”

“Az...”

“No stress, remember. I’m yours. I swear it… Let me show you,” Azriel murmured, deciding it was time for them to stop talking as he leaned in to press a tender kiss to her lips.

Gwyn melted into him, her worries momentarily fading away as Azriel's lips moved against hers with a gentle but firm assurance. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer, and she felt the warmth of his body seep into her, grounding her in the moment.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing heavily, Azriel rested his forehead against hers. "Gwyn," he whispered like a prayer, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer as she kissed him back with all the passion she had been holding inside.

Azriel's hands roamed over her back, gripping her tightly as they moaned into each other's mouths in desperation. Gwyn felt a warmth spread through her, a burning need that she had been trying to suppress for weeks.

"Azriel," she breathed out, breaking the kiss but staying close enough that their lips still brushed. "I need you... now."

He obeyed.

Their clothes soon became a forgotten barrier, their hands exploring each other with a newfound urgency. Every touch, every kiss, was desperate.

Azriel lay her back on the bed and began to kiss down her body. That wouldn’t do.

“No,” Gwyn moaned, “I need you to fuck me!”

He laughed against her neck, nipping her, kissing her, driving her crazy.

“Why don’t you show me how much you need it then?”

Gwyn loved the challenge in his tone. She pulled him up towards her, then pushed him back a little to flip their positions. She couldn’t even try to pretend she wasn’t desperate for him. She moved to grab his cock and positioned it at her entrance. They both groaned in ecstasy as she sank down onto him in one quick motion. Gwyn’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, an instant relief coursing through her body. This was exactly what she needed.

They had weeks of foreplay with the cuddling. She didn’t want to cuddle anymore. She wanted this.

Azriel was done playing too, his own craving evident. His eyes looked drunk with lust, the shadows around the room swelled and plunged them into near darkness.

“You look so good riding my cock, priestess. Show me how much you’ve wanted this,” he all but begged. And she obliged.

Gwyn canted her hips, the feel of him so deep and delicious inside her. She let her hands massage her sensitive breasts as she thrust herself back and forth on him. Azriel gripped her hips, keeping her movements steady.

The friction against her swollen clit, the rhythm they had created together, had her screaming his name out as she came. Azriel wasn’t far behind, her own name spilling from his lips as he found his release.

Gwyn collapsed forward onto his chest, breathless and spent. She snuggled into him, feeling his thundering heartbeat beneath her. "I love you," she whispered, the words flowing freely without restraint, without a second thought, lost in the moment.

Azriel's whole body tensed in response.

She pushed herself up, wide-eyed and panicked at what she’d just said. “I’m sorry, it just slipped out—” Gwyn exclaimed, while at the same time he confessed, “I love you, too.”

But she couldn’t believe that. This was the honourable male bullshit again, he didn’t mean it. “You don’t have to say it back…” she reassured him.

He moved to a sitting position, Gwyn still straddling his lap. Sweeping her hair away from her sweat-slicked brow, he gazed into her sparkling teal eyes and beyond, to her very soul.

“I love you,” he repeated, his voice steady and sure. “I’ve loved you for a long time, Berdara. Your strength, your kindness, your courage—everything about you is what I’ve always wanted, all I could have ever hoped for. You’re my home. And every day for the rest of our lives together, I will strive to be the male who deserves you and our baby.”

Gwyn could feel the truth in the words. And she was done fighting her doubts as she moved to capture his lips, kissing him with force, showing him just how much she wanted him, wanted everything with him.

As their desperate need and love confessions had them enjoying each other’s bodies once more, Gwyn felt a restless tug inside her, something begging to be released. What it was, she didn’t know. And as she made love to Azriel until the sun rose, she didn’t care.

Chapter Text

Azriel never knew true happiness until the last few months. As Gwyn’s belly grew, so did his love for her. Just when he thought he couldn’t possibly adore her more, she would scrunch her face in a certain way while reading a book she hated but insisted on finishing, or tell him that the meal he’d cooked was the best thing she had ever tasted. She would call it her new favourite dish, even though she said that about almost everything he made. Then there were the quirks that were uniquely Gwyn: repeating her mantra under her breath when she was nervous, doing a happy dance when she accomplished a new technique in training, and bringing a smile to everyone's face, especially his, which was no easy feat.

She was perfect. And she was his.

He thanked the Mother every day for blessing him with a mate like her. It didn’t erase the scars of the past, but having Gwyn by his side calmed a part of him—a part that had been restless for centuries, longing for comfort and acceptance. She gave him all of that and more. And he poured all his love and gratitude back into her, every single day.

They couldn’t change their pasts, but he knew they would fill their future with happier memories. As their excitement for the future grew, so did the preparations for the new arrival.

Their family had been a wonderful help. Rhys and Feyre gifted them all the essentials that now crowded Azriel’s room, a space he once considered quite big but was now dwarfed by a handmade crib, an intricately woven bassinet, an elaborate changing table, a beautiful wooden rocking chair, and an array of other items Azriel wasn’t even sure how to use.

Nesta and Cassian offered them a whole wing of the House of Wind for more privacy as a family. And although Azriel appreciated the offer, he was content with their current rooms for now. Gwyn’s bedroom, which she never used anymore, housed all the baby’s clothes, along with diapers, books, toys and other bits and bobs. Azriel was shocked that a baby could have so many belongings before they were even born—or maybe everyone was just being too generous.

The priestesses included who were busy sewing onesies, tons of them, designed to accommodate little wings—the ones they had found out about at their three-month check-up.

Azriel had wanted to spiral into overthinking and worry, with images of Rhys screaming and reaching for Feyre’s limp body plaguing his thoughts, but Gwyn refused to let him go there.

’No stress’, she would remind him.

She promised it would be fine, assuring him that her body and healing powers would prevent any issues during delivery. Her confidence was infectious, as if the universe had no say and Gwyn could truly control the situation. All he could do was hope she was right and pray that the Mother would keep her and their baby safe when the time came.

In his attempt to fulfil his promise to Madja of maintaining a stress-free environment throughout the pregnancy, Azriel still hadn’t told Gwyn they were mates. Sometimes he swore he could feel little tugs from her side, but the bond hadn’t snapped into place for her—another thing he tried not to dwell on too much. He believed it would happen one day, it had to… or at least, when the baby was born, he would tell Gwyn the truth and let her decide how they would proceed with the bond.

He didn’t mind if she didn’t accept it; knowing he had a mate was enough. But, he did want to marry her. He hadn’t brought it up again since that first time he asked in the heat of the moment, when he found out she was pregnant. She had assumed his intentions were for her honour, but in truth, he simply wanted to tie himself to her out of love.

There was another issue too, if they had no plans to wed; introducing Gwyn to his mother was going to be… tricky.

He loved his mother, but he worried about how she would view his situation with Gwyn. Having a child out of wedlock had devastated his mother's life. Of course, she had had no choice in the matter, but he feared what memories would be triggered if she found out about Gwyn.

But then again, wouldn’t his mother want to know about his future child? It might be the first of many they had out of wedlock. Was he going to hide his whole family from his mother?

When he expressed his concerns to Gwyn, she reasoned that they should be honest and go see his mother. She knew about his past and what he and his mother had been subjected to—the torture and neglect. She had cried and held him close as he shared things he had never told anyone. He had felt lighter after unburdening himself from some of his demons.

They vowed their child would always know they were deeply loved. They agreed that physical punishment was never an option; instead, they would communicate openly about their issues. Azriel admitted he had no idea how to be a good father and was terrified he would mess it up, but as Gwyn pointed out, as long as he did the opposite of his own father, he’d be doing a fine job.

He already knew Gwyn would be an exceptional mother; that was something he never doubted.

Now, they just had to break the news to his mother.

Today was the day they were going to tell her. Azriel flew them to a small village nestled on the border of Illyria, closer to the forests than the mountain peaks. The village was quiet, with only a handful of houses surrounded by high walls and fences. Azriel had chosen this place to build a sanctuary for his mother once he had grown strong enough to rescue her. She had refused to move to Velaris, not wanting to disrupt his life, but Azriel suspected she also desired solitude for a while. And so he built Rosehall Manor here, among a few dozen other females who had escaped similar situations. They supported each other while maintaining their independence. Males were forbidden from living here, but sons and male relatives could visit. Azriel had introduced himself to all the females in the village and assured them that if they ever encountered trouble, they could send for him. Fortunately, there had never been any incidents.

Standing at the front door of the manor, the dark mahogany wood gleaming warmly in the sunlight, Azriel felt his heart race as he played through countless scenarios in his mind. He hated disappointing his mother. What if she asked him to leave and never come back?

He felt the reassuring grip of his mate, their fingers interlocking as she squeezed in support. She must have sensed the nervousness emanating from him, or perhaps she was feeling it through their bond without realising. As Azriel looked at Gwyn—her coppery hair braided back, her freckles on full display, her teal eyes brimming with love—some of his worries began to fade.

Gwyn smiled warmly. "We're in this together, remember?"

Azriel nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Together," he affirmed, letting her reassurance guide him as he tucked away his worries and raised his hand and knocked on the door.
_______

After a moment's wait, they were met by his mother: a tall, graceful female with silver-streaked black hair and stoic brown eyes that softened only slightly when they landed on Azriel. Her wings drooped limply behind her, in worse shape than Emerie’s, from the years of beatings she had endured during the centuries she lived in his father’s estate. He made a mental note to get her a brace, like Emerie’s, if she wanted.

"Hi, Mama," Azriel said, his voice quieter and gentler than usual. He couldn’t help but feel somewhat small around his mother, despite being half a foot taller than her. He still felt like a little boy in her presence.

Her eyes flicked to Gwyn, assessing her with a slight, critical gaze. "This is Gwyn, Mama. Gwyn, this is my mother, Evi," Azriel said, introducing the two most important females in his life.

Gwyn stepped forward, offering her hand with a warm smile. "Lovely to meet you, Evi. You have a beautiful home."

Evi took her hand, her grip firm but not unfriendly. "Thank you," she said softly, glancing at Gwyn’s protruding stomach, before turning her attention back to her son, a glimmer of upset in her eyes. "Azriel, is this your wife?"

He cursed himself, knowing this was exactly what would happen.

Azriel shifted nervously, his hand squeezing Gwyn's for support for what was to come. "No, Mama…" he said a touch timidly.

Evi's eyes narrowed, her mouth forming a thin line of disapproval. "Well, that can’t be right. No son of mine would dishonour a female like this," she said, nodding towards Gwyn’s stomach this time. The early summer days were already balmy, so Gwyn had opted for a simple powder blue sundress that did nothing to hide her bump.

Gwyn’s hand shot to her belly, rubbing the swell protectively at his mother’s sharp tone.

"Can we come inside to talk, please?" Azriel asked, frustration evident in his voice now at his mother’s reaction and how it was making his mate uncomfortable.

Evi's expression softened a touch. She nodded, stepping aside to let them in.

“Was this a mistake?” Gwyn whispered as quietly as possible as they made their way to the kitchen, Azriel guiding her by the hand.

He pulled out a chair for her to sit down at a cosy wooden table. “We’ll make her understand,” he replied, squeezing her shoulder in quiet reassurance before moving to take a seat next to her.

Evi took the one opposite them, lacing her fingers together as they rested on the table, as if she was about to start her interrogation. Azriel wondered if this was how his prisoners in Hewn City felt when he was questioning them. His mother cleared her throat before she began. “How did this happen?”

Azriel could have laughed. How else were children made? “We’re not answering that.”

“Well then, tell me why you’re not married,” she countered, her voice laced with disapproval.

He tried not to take offence. His mother had been in an impossible situation once, and of course she wouldn't want that for any other female. But this was different.

“The baby wasn’t planned, Mama. And we want some time to get to know each other first,” Azriel began to explain.

Gwyn stepped in, her voice calm and respectful. "But Azriel was completely honourable. He offered to marry me when he found out. I refused his proposal."

He should have seen what was coming next. Even some of his shadows left him to wrap protectively around Gwyn’s wrist.

His mother’s gaze snapped back to Gwyn, her eyes narrowing to slits. "Is my son not good enough for you?"

“What–I–no,” Gwyn stumbled over how to reply.

"Mama, stop,” Azriel interjected, feeling the worry washing down the bond. “Stress is bad for the baby." He pulled Gwyn closer into his side, his arm looping behind her back to rest on the side of her belly.

Evi's eyes now moved to where Gwyn and Azriel’s hands lay on the bump. "How far along are you?" she asked softly.

"Six months," Gwyn replied with a smile, the one that usually put everyone at ease.

Evi couldn't resist returning it before eyeing her son again. "Azriel, you waited six months before telling me I’d be a grandmother." Gone was the disapproval, replaced with gentle excitement.

"Because I knew you would freak out," Azriel teased, thankful that the tension in the room was starting to dissipate.

Evi took a deep breath, her eyes glassy. "I just don’t want history repeating itself, my lovely boy. A child needs both of their parents. A stable home…" she trailed off, memories of the past haunting the present.

Azriel reached across the table with his free hand to grip his mother’s. He knew this would trigger painful memories of what had happened between her and his father, but what was done was done. His mother could create happier memories now too. "It won’t. I promise. I love Gwyn. She’s everything to me."

Evi's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Then get married," she pleaded, squeezing Azriel’s hand.

His heart cracked a little, but this wasn’t his decision. Azriel shook his head. "No."

He could sense Gwyn’s eyes darting from him to his mother, feeling the lingering pain from the past flowing between them. She sat a little straighter in her chair before speaking. “Maybe we should get married before the baby is born,” she suggested, her voice strong and unwavering.

Azriel snapped his attention to her, his eyes widening slightly as he searched Gwyn's face for any doubt. “You want to marry me?”

Gwyn gave him that golden smile that could light up a room and teased, “Well, you did kind of ask me first…”

Azriel felt every emotion in that moment, felt the world come to a standstill as he gazed at his mate. Surely, life couldn’t be this good; this couldn't really be happening.

A tentative smile bloomed on Azriel's face, and he leaned in to kiss her. It was a tender, heartfelt kiss, full of promises and unspoken words. A promise to cherish her until the end of their days. A promise to be a better male for her. “Really?”

“Yes,” she whispered against his lips without hesitation.

Azriel deepened their kiss, his hands gently cradling her face. “You’ve just made me the happiest male alive.” He could have cried. He had never been this happy before. Gwyn’s answering smile, her peppering of kisses, made him hope she felt the same.

His mother cleared her throat, a not-so-subtle reminder that she was still very much present. They laughed, breaking apart from their private moment to look at her, a beaming smile on her face too. “See, was that so hard?” she teased.

Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You meddle too much."

Evi gave him a wink in return. "I just secured you a wife!"

They all laughed then, the tension in the room finally dissolving into excitement and celebration. Evi moved around the table to hug them both, planting kisses on her new daughter's cheeks before placing a hand on Gwyn's belly to give the baby an Illyrian blessing and welcome it to their family.

His mother then insisted on making them a special meal, filled with traditional dishes, a few of which Azriel had yet to cook for Gwyn. And when his mate exclaimed, 'This is incredible. This is my new favourite dish,’ his heart swelled with more love than he thought possible as he gazed lovingly at his future wife.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure?”

They had just arrived at the River House, where the family had already gathered for their weekly dinner. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to share their latest news. Azriel held her tight as he flew them there, nuzzling her neck, smelling her hair, and asking the same damned question over and over.

Gwyn rolled her eyes. “For the tenth time, yes! I want to marry you.”

“We can lie to my mother, she’ll never know—”

His mother had scared her, just a little bit. She was definitely never going to lie to that female, ever, if she could avoid it. She huffed at him, “If you keep asking, I will change my mind.”

Azriel took the warning and shut up immediately.

She smiled at him in thanks, kissing his cheek as they landed outside the house. They never bothered knocking, the wards around the house recognising them. They walked into the foyer before making their way to the dining room that was already bustling with chatter. They were greeted warmly as they took their seats at the grand table.

It was a rare occasion that everyone was able to make it, including Varian and Amren, who spent a majority of their time in the Summer Court these days, and Elain and Lucien, finally home from their travels to the continent after their mating ceremony—a last-minute affair no one was invited to. Feyre couldn’t complain since she had done the same thing with Rhys. But Nesta was more vocal about being left out, exclaiming that they would receive no mating gift from her or Cassian now, since they had been excluded from the celebrations. Neither Lucien nor Elain seemed to care, as they were wrapped in each other's arms, the glow of their honeymoon still evident.

Gwyn sighed at the thought. Could she and Azriel squeeze in a honeymoon before their baby was born? Maybe they could go after the birth… although the thought of leaving their little one for any extended period of time almost had her crying. Stupid hormones. Maybe they would plan one in a few years. They weren’t doing anything in a traditional order, so it could wait.

The table was set with an impressive spread, and everyone was already digging in. Gwyn and Azriel only picked at a few bits, still stuffed from the feast his mother had made them.

Conversation flowed easily as always, with everyone sharing their latest ventures, court gossip, and future plans.

Varian had gifted Amren a luxurious villa in the Summer Court, right on the sapphire oceans. No wonder she was spending all her time there. She said it was better than any jewellery she’d ever received. The highest compliment from a female who hoarded her jewels like a dragon.

Cassian and Nesta filled everyone in on their plans to set up another Valkyrie training camp in Illyria so that clipped females could train, and join their ranks if they desired. Gwyn thought about the village where Azriel’s mother lived and suggested they exclude males from the facilities. Cassian took the suggestion, although said it might be hard to convince the camp lords to allow the females to train without supervision. But he would try.

Lucien and Elain shared details of their travels, while Feyre expressed her excitement about an art exhibition she was organising for her students. Mor and Emerie were too busy whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears to participate in the conversations.

Once they had reached dessert, Azriel grabbed a knife to ding his glass of wine to silence the room. "We actually have some news too," he began, glancing at Gwyn, who gave him an encouraging nod.

Cassian cut in first, though. “It’s twins,” he teased, eliciting laughs from everyone and a playful slap from Nesta to shut up.

Azriel chuckled, thanking his sister before continuing. "Gwyn and I have decided to get married."

There were a few shocked gasps before the room erupted in cheers and congratulatory sentiments. Emerie and Nesta jumped from their seats, running around the table to envelop Gwyn in a group hug, while Cassian went to pull Azriel into one too, whispering his best wishes and a very heartfelt, ‘she can do better, you’re incredibly lucky.’

Rhysand was kinder with his words as he hugged his brother next. "You deserve this, both of you!" He turned to Gwyn once he’d released Azriel. “You must let me plan the wedding… as your gift.”

Gwyn gawked in surprise, glancing at Nesta, who was shaking her head vigorously in warning.

“Oh–well–we really just want something very simple… and fast,” she stammered in response, her hand on her growing abdomen. They didn’t have much time to get it done. They had already discussed having a small ceremony among the priestesses within the next few days.

Rhysand waved off her concerns with a hand, already lost in thought with ideas for the big day. "It will be tight, but I think I can pull off something extravagant in three months, easily. I can call in some favours. Oh… I’ll hire Amaryllis to do the flowers. She did a wonderful job at Nesta and Cassian’s ceremony–”

“Elain, can’t you do the flowers… just a few bouquets?” Gwyn interrupted, trying to derail Rhysand’s already extensive planning. She didn’t even need flowers! But surely, Elain could gather a few blooms if Rhys insisted it was important.

But Elain only shook her head apologetically. "Actually, we won’t be back after tonight for a few months, I’m afraid. It’s early… and we were going to wait a few more weeks before telling anybody..." She trailed off, looking at her mate, pride radiating off him.

Lucien placed a protective hand on her stomach. "We have some news too," he announced with a wry smile.

Feyre was already screaming with joy, she and Nesta rushing to Elain to give her congratulatory kisses, placing a hand on her still-flat belly and thanking the Mother. Nesta even hugged Lucien, and she didn’t even look upset by it.

Azriel couldn't help his comment. "That was fast," he joked towards the couple.

Lucien quipped back with a sly grin, "You're one to talk," flashing a wink at Gwyn.

Azriel raised his glass to Lucien, acknowledging his quick wit with a smirk. They weren’t quite at the hugging stage, but their camaraderie was growing stronger.

Feyre summoned champagne in crystal flutes, and sparkling water for Elain and Gwyn. She raised her glass. “A toast,” she announced, drawing everyone’s attention as they reached for their drinks. “To Azriel and Gwyn, and to Lucien and Elain. For the new lives they are bringing into this world and the love that surrounds them.”

“Hear, hear!” Rhysand echoed, clinking his glass against Feyre’s.

The room filled with the sound of glasses meeting and a chorus of well-wishes.

Everyone settled quickly once more, breaking off into smaller conversations. Nesta was warning Elain that she would not be left out of this, that she and Cassian would visit the Day Court every month and she wanted to be present at the birth. Elain agreed to all her terms without hesitation.

Feyre and Rhysand engaged Gwyn and Azriel’s attention to talk more about the wedding.

“Three months is a tight turnaround, but we’ll make it work,” Rhys mused.

Gwyn thought about how big she was getting already. At six months, she already couldn’t see her toes. She probably wouldn’t be able to walk down the aisle in another three months.

“Rhys, I’ll be huge by then. We were just going to get married in a few days!” she quipped, squeezing Azriel’s hand for support and waiting for him to jump in. He didn’t, casually sipping his wine and avoiding eye contact with her.

She could guess why. Rhys was just like her—once he got something into his head, there was no stopping him.

“Feyre and I very much regret not giving our family a chance to celebrate our ceremony. Please let us do this for you. All you have to do is show up,” he pleaded, sounding like a petulant child.

He elbowed Feyre lightly to help convince them. “We’ll take care of all the details. You two just focus on each other and the baby until the big day.”

Gwyn thought back through the day. They were already getting married because of one person's demands, so was it really that much of an issue to let their High Lord and Lady throw them a lavish wedding? They wouldn’t get a chance to go on a honeymoon after all. Maybe this would make up for it. She relented.

“Fine! We’ll get married in three months.”

Rhysand was practically buzzing with happiness, his dark magic dancing around him in glee. Immediately, he began discussing grand plans with Feyre: exquisite venues, renowned chefs, and a guest list that included esteemed figures from all over Prythian. His enthusiasm was infectious. Gwyn couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement, imagining herself in a flowing white gown, making her way down the aisle to Azriel in a dapper black suit. Despite her initial reservations, she allowed herself to be swept up by Rhysand's vision for their wedding day, silently praying it wouldn’t turn out to be a huge mistake.

Chapter Text

It was a huge mistake!

"I don't care if they're ivory or cream, Rhys!" Gwyn snapped as Rhysand laid various napkins of different fabrics and colours in front of her.

Two months ago, she had foolishly believed the High Lord when he told her she could just sit back, relax, and he would plan everything. Although the big-ticket items were sorted without issue—the River House gardens for the venue, Starfall Delights for the catering, and Deirdre to perform the ceremony—the minute details were tripping up the High Lord.

Her pregnancy hormones weren’t helping. Long gone were the days of her and Azriel spending hours every day rolling in the sheets, replaced by a quiet rage that simmered beneath the surface, waiting to be released. Rhys was excellent at triggering it.

"And you are sure you want these flowers?" he asked for the fifth time that morning, holding up a sample bouquet of burnt-orange yarrow, burgundy roses, and dried eucalyptus. An autumnal bouquet she thought looked beautiful. Rhysand had been pushing for something a little more ‘Night Court.’

Gwyn glared at him, biting her tongue so hard she swore she drew blood. She answered through gritted teeth, "Yes, Rhys! I'm sure. Can we please move on?"

He held up his hands in defeat and grabbed the plate of cake samples that had been dropped off.

“Now, I know you wanted a pistachio cake, but don’t you think this strawberry sponge would fit better with the theme?”

“How about I shove it down your throat and we’ll see how good it fits?”

Rhys had the decency to look shocked at last. His eyes glazed for a moment before Azriel stormed into the room, a trail of agitated shadows following him.

He looked between his brother and fiancée, sensing a storm brewing between them. Azriel had become accustomed to playing referee the last few weeks.

"Gwyn, why don't we take a break? I think Nyx is awake from his nap. We can walk around the gardens?”

Gwyn sighed, her anger deflating as quickly as it had risen. Azriel’s presence always calmed her like a gentle breeze soothing a raging storm. “A break sounds good."

“So it’s a no on the strawberry sponge cake, then?” Rhys teased as she scowled, storming past him.

She supposed she should be grateful he wasn’t taking her outbursts to heart. She really did appreciate him and Feyre paying for their wedding. And in a few more weeks, it would all finally be over!

_______

Azriel wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

"You're doing great," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. He held Nyx in his other arm, the little lordling attempting to catch shadows as they made their way to the garden.

She loved the look of a baby in his arms. He was a natural.

Gwyn leaned into him, her frustration melting away. "I know. It's just... your brother is driving me crazy."

Azriel chuckled softly. "He tends to have that effect on people. He's just excited."

"Excited? He's obsessed," Gwyn muttered. "I swear, if he asks me one more question about the colour scheme, I'm going to kill him."

“I can take over the rest if you like.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You just finish growing our baby, and leave the details to me.”

“I love you!”

He moved to kiss her, but Nyx got there first, slobbering all over her cheek. She gave him a big wet kiss back, causing him to giggle hysterically. Azriel tickled his sides, prompting even more screams of delight.

Gwyn’s heart squeezed. She couldn’t wait for them to meet their little one, to hear their little laugh, and to love them so much they would radiate with joy, just like Nyx.

They spent an hour showing Nyx the various flowers his aunt had planted and watched as he tried to catch butterflies. It was the perfect break, exactly what she needed—and what she should have been doing all along, instead of wedding planning!

_______

They returned to the dining room, where Rhysand was deep in conversation with Feyre about the seating arrangements. Gwyn steeled herself, determined to get through the rest of the day without losing her temper.

As they approached, Rhysand looked up, a wide smile on his face. "Ah, there you are! I was just thinking, what if we added a few more guests? The more, the merrier, right?"

Gwyn felt her eye twitch. "Rhys, we already have a guest list. We don't need more people."

Rhysand waved off her concerns. "But think about it! More guests mean more gifts, more fun—"

She pinched her lips together. She had promised not to lose it, especially with Nyx in the room who was being passed to Feyre. “We don’t need more gifts. The guest list is done.” She tried to keep her tone polite, but there was an unmistakable tinge of anger she couldn’t hide.

Before Rhys could speak again, Feyre chimed in. “Of course. It’s your day!”

The High Lord gave his mate a disgruntled look before turning back to Gwyn. “It’s your day,” he agreed, a little reluctantly.

Gwyn was thankful to Feyre for reminding him of that fact. She nodded a thanks to her High Lady before they excused themselves. Gwyn had had enough of wedding planning for today. For a lifetime.

_______

As the wedding day approached, the stress only seemed to intensify.

Luckily, Azriel had stayed true to his word and took over dealing with Rhys, but Gwyn's emotions were all over the place. She found herself crying over the smallest things lately. This evening, she broke down in tears because she dropped her book and was too big now to bend down to pick it up.

"I can't do this," she sobbed, sitting on the edge of their bed. "It's too much. How am I going to walk down the aisle? I’m huge! I’m going to look like a waddling penguin instead of a beautiful, blushing bride."

She could hear Azriel trying desperately not to laugh as he wrapped his arms and wings around her, cocooning them from the world. “We can go down to the library and get one of the priestesses to marry us right now if that’s what you want.”

Gwyn cried a little harder. If only that was an option, but Rhysand had already shelled out a fortune on everything. And it was only a few more days. They couldn’t back out now.

She shook her head, trying to stop her tears. Azriel wiped them away, giving her a kiss intended to distract her. Gods, and it worked so deliciously.

Within moments they were ripping the clothes off each other in desperation. Azriel slid off the bed, kneeling between her legs, his tongue already buried inside her. She gasped, “Wait! Az!”

He stopped immediately. She couldn’t see him because of her ginormous bump, but she imagined he was looking at her, waiting for an explanation.

“Madja said we should avoid sex until after the wedding.” At her latest exam, the physician had explained with being so close to the ten-month mark, the baby could arrive any day, and refraining from strenuous activities was advised if they wanted to make sure the baby was born after the wedding day.

“Can’t I just make you come a few times like this?”

Gwyn wanted to cry again. “No. The contractions can trigger early labour. I have to remain abstinent until our wedding night.”

She felt Azriel’s breath sigh against her core, and it was almost enough to drive her over the edge. Just another reason why they should have eloped.

Azriel moved to join her on the bed, the two of them lying naked, staring at the ceiling.

“I can help you out, though?” Gwyn suggested with a playful tone.

Azriel shook his head. “If you can’t find your pleasure, then neither will I. We’ll wait for our wedding night. It will be romantic…” he said, trying to sound convincing.

“Nice spin, shadowsinger,” she chuckled before letting out a long sigh. “This sucks. I hate Rhys.”

“Me too, my love. Me too.”

_______

It was the day before the wedding, and Gwyn stood in the boutique dressing room, staring at the array of wedding dresses that had been meticulously tailored for her. Beautiful gowns in ivory, cream, and white. Lace, tulle, and silk. Stunning wedding dresses that any bride would die for… and none of them fit.

They had underestimated her size, and now she had a dressing room full of dresses that wouldn’t button, her huge baby bump a few inches bigger than expected. Fucking wings, Gwyn thought to herself. If the baby didn’t have Azriel’s stupidly perfect wings, she could have easily fit into the dreamy ivory silk gown she clung to. Her dream dress. What the hell was she going to do?

The seamstress fussed over her with a look of desperation, trying to make last-minute adjustments that seemed futile. Gwyn’s reflection showed a heavily pregnant bride, bulging out of the demure wedding dress. Nothing about the scene was remotely like the serene visions she had for this moment.

Feyre had tried to console her earlier, but now it was Nesta and Emerie who were taking over the mission of keeping Gwyn from a full-blown meltdown.

“I look like a white whale,” Gwyn muttered, trying to hold back tears.

“You look beautiful,” Nesta insisted, her tone firm but gentle. “These dresses just need a few adjustments.”

“More than a few,” Gwyn snapped, unable to help herself. “None of them fit. How did we miscalculate this so badly? The wedding is tomorrow!”

Emerie exchanged a look with Nesta before stepping forward. “Let’s take a breath, Gwyn. Stress isn’t good for you or the baby.”

Gwyn snapped. “Fuck the baby! They’ve had enough time. They’re welcome to leave my body any time they want.” She felt like a wretch the second the words left her mouth. Her friends only looked sympathetic.

Nesta put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll make it right. We’ve faced worse things than ill-fitting dresses. We can fashion something, maybe a nice cloak to go over the back? Or get a dress with a lace-up back?”

The seamstress excused herself, taking note of Nesta’s suggestions. “I’ll bring a few more options,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. Gwyn felt a pang of guilt for creating such a horrid atmosphere. But she was so fed up.

“Why did I agree to this?”

“Because you love Azriel. And Rhysand is a convincing prick!” Nesta smiled slyly. Gwyn chuckled.

The seamstress came back with a few more options, and Emerie took the dresses she offered. “Thank you. We’ll handle it from here.”

As the seamstress left with a thankful nod, Nesta and Emerie began sorting through the dresses, pulling out a few that seemed like they might have potential. Gwyn sat down, trying to calm her turbulent emotions.

This time tomorrow, she and Azriel would be married and counting down the weeks until their baby joined their family. She reasoned that it didn’t matter what she wore down the aisle; he’d marry her in a potato sack… not that one would fit! But still, she just had to get herself into something. Maybe they could redo their marriage in a decade or so, and she could wear the dress of her dreams then. She nodded to herself in resolution.

Her sisters mumbled among themselves, “I can take this bit of fabric and attach it down the back. That will mostly hide any skin showing there. I can make some matching sleeves too, to give it a beautiful flow effect, like a waterfall,” Emerie said, holding a beautiful ivory sheer gown.

Nesta nodded enthusiastically as she held another one, an ivory laced gown with a lace-up bodice. “Yes, oh that will be perfect. We can do the laces loosely, and no one will notice.”

Gwyn started crying as she watched them plan. Her sisters moved to surround her in an instant.

“No, Gwyn! It’s going to be okay. We’ll work our magic. You’ll be stunning!”

Gwyn smiled. “I know I will. Because I have you both.” She moved to grab a hand from each of them.

Emerie kissed her head, and Nesta squeezed her tighter. It didn’t matter what situation they were in; they would always have each other's backs, whether it was fighting off an Illyrian legion or fashioning a wedding gown out of scraps. Her chosen sisters were her saviours in every situation.

Gwyn assured them she was done crying, until tomorrow at least, and headed behind the curtain to shimmy into the lace gown. It was beautiful, hugging around her bump comfortably. Emerie draped the sheer fabric over and showed her the plans she had. Emerie told Gwyn she would stay up all night if she had to to make sure the gown was perfect, and Gwyn knew without a doubt she would.

One day, Gwyn promised herself, she would find a way to repay her sisters for all their kindness.

Chapter Text

The gardens of the River House were a vision of autumnal splendour. The crisp air carried the scent of fallen leaves and autumn blooms. Every seat and the dais archway were adorned with burnt-orange yarrow, burgundy roses, and dried eucalyptus, matching the bouquet Gwyn held in her hands. She smiled, thinking of how Rhysand had come through for them, creating an autumnal dream for their wedding day.

Seven bells rang out to signal the ceremony was ready to begin. Guests began to take their seats, their murmurs and laughter blending with the soft rustle of the leaves. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow over the scene. Gwyn couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day to marry the love of her life.

Nesta and Emerie appeared at her side. Gwyn had asked them to walk her down the aisle, and they had accepted with only a few tears, careful not to ruin the 'masterpiece' Mor had created. Their eyes were accentuated with black kohl liner, while their cheeks and lips blushed with rouge.

Gwyn peeked out between the curtain separating her from the guests and the aisle. She saw Feyre, with a giddy Nyx greeting guests, and Mor helping Azriel’s mother take their seats at the front of the aisle. She noted Helion sitting next to a red-haired male. She thought it might be Lucien, but he was paler. He glanced around with a scowl, his eyes meeting hers as he noted her curiously surveying the crowd. His mouth quirked into a devious smile. It reminded her of how Catrin would sometimes look when she was up to no good. Gwyn quickly looked away. If she thought too much of her sister, she really would ruin Mor’s masterpiece. She looked to the dais, hoping to catch a glimpse of Azriel, but Rhysand’s wings were blocking her. She wondered if he had heard her thoughts by accident and done it on purpose. Busybody, she thought.

Her sisters fanned the end of Gwyn's dress out and fixed the headpiece of baby's breath, pearls and eucalyptus leaves that adorned her head. Emerie had truly saved the day with her alterations. The ivory lace dress fit Gwyn in all the right places, complementing and celebrating her heavily pregnant frame. Her long ivory, sheer jacket and sleeves flowed around her like a waterfall, cascading into a long train. Emerie had even dotted crystals along the ends that shimmered when they caught the light. Gwyn had gasped in relief and happiness at her reflection in the mirror that morning after her sisters helped her dress. Emerie had worked her magic to make Gwyn look like a goddess.

"Ready?" Nesta asked, her voice full of love and adoration.

Gwyn nodded, taking a deep breath.

Nesta signalled to the string quartet to start playing, and the stewards to open the curtains.

With Gwyn in the middle, Nesta on her right, and Emerie on her left, they began the processional. There were collective gasps of awe as they walked down the aisle. Her sisters were resplendent in their matching cobalt blue silk dresses, the same colour as Azriel’s siphons, which seemed to be flaring slightly as he watched them. Cassian squeezed his shoulder, his grin wide and carefree. It made Azriel laugh as he locked eyes with Gwyn.

His gaze was so intense and focused on Gwyn that she almost felt a tug inside her, begging her to get to him quicker. Nesta had to put a hand on her arm to slow her down with a knowing smile.

If Gwyn was a goddess in ivory, then Azriel was a god in ebony. He looked otherworldly in his perfectly fitted suit, his shadows swelling around him in excitement, his wings flaring ever so slightly as she got closer. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, matching her own. As they reached the end of the aisle, Nesta and Emerie placed Gwyn's hands into Azriel's before stepping to the side to stand as her bridesmaids.

“You look so beautiful,” Azriel said, a bit breathless.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Shadowsinger,” she teased back, begging herself not to cry. He chuckled at her before placing a quick kiss on her lips.

Deirdre, the priestess officiating the ceremony, stepped forward with a serene smile. "Welcome, everyone. Today we gather to celebrate the union of Gwyn and Azriel. A love forged in trials and triumphs, as enduring as the moon and stars that light our nights."

The priestess spoke a little about love, traditions and their families, the ones they had found and the ones who sadly could not be there. It took everything in Gwyn not to burst out crying, Azriel’s grip on her hands tightened in comfort to steady her, as if he could feel every emotion within her and knew it was just what she needed.

“Our beautiful couple have prepared some words for each other. Azriel, please begin by reciting your vows to Gwyn,” Deirdre requested.

Azriel took a breath, before he began, gazing right into her soul as he did. "Gwyn, from the moment I met you, my life changed. Out of our darkest moments came the light. You light up all the darkest corners of my soul, you guide me to be better. Your strength, your courage, your heart have shown me a love I never thought possible. You’ve given me the greatest gift in this life,” he placed a hand on her stomach, and she could no longer hold back the tears. “I vow to stand by your side, to protect you, to cherish you, and to love you with everything I am, for all the days of our lives."

Gwyn gasped back a sob. She never thought she could be this happy again after all that had happened in her life. She really had everything she could possibly dream of.

Deirdre smiled, a few unshed tears in her eyes. “Gwyn, it’s your turn.”

“Just a minute,” she sobbed through a wet laugh. The guests joined, and Azriel smiled at her before wiping away a few of her tears.

Gwyn shook her head, letting a breath whoosh out of her. She was determined to get through her vows. She took a shaky breath and began. “Azriel… you have been my rock from the moment we met. You saved me from the darkness and brought me back to the light. If I guide you, it’s because you held out a hand for me to lead. You–fuck–” Gwyn doubled over, a sharp pain sucking the breath from her. A collective gasp of surprise reverberated through the guests.

Azriel's eyes widened in concern. "Gwyn? Are you alright?"

Gwyn winced, her hand cradling her bump as she attempted to straighten herself. “I’m fine, it was just… FUCK–” she screamed.

Another sharp pain sliced through her, and she collapsed into Azriel’s arms. His shadows whirled around her, trying to figure out what was wrong. Gwyn knew already.

"I think... I think the baby is coming," she gasped, another wave of pain hitting her.

Deirdre's calm demeanour faltered as she looked down at the growing pool of water on the dais. Azriel glanced down to see it before his grip tightened around Gwyn. "We need to get you to the house. Now."

Rhys was already on the other side of Gwyn, the two of them leading her down the aisle as guests looked on in concern.

"No, we can finish..." Gwyn weakly protested, trying to pull out of their grip. They said they would be married before the baby was born.

Azriel couldn’t stop his laugh at her stubbornness. "I’m sorry, my love. We can't."

Madja was trailing them now, along with the rest of their family.

As another contraction wracked through her body and she tried not to scream out in pain, Gwyn nodded in agreement… reluctantly.

Chapter Text

Inside the guest room, the atmosphere was a whirlwind of activity as Madja prepared for the arrival of Gwyn and Azriel’s child. The air buzzed with anticipation, filled with the mingling scents of medical herbs and the delicate fragrance of flowers adorning the room.

Nesta and Emerie helped Gwyn out of her dream wedding gown, then the beautiful lacy undergarments that would have thrilled Azriel, along with all the jewellery and the headpiece that adorned her. They wrapped her in a silk robe and settled her comfortably in bed, offering warm hugs, encouraging kisses, and soothing words before stepping out. From outside, Gwyn could faintly hear Rhys's voice urging Azriel to reach out if they needed anything. The High Lord sounded more anxious than anyone else, which she found understandable after his own experience with this situation.

The initial rush of labour had stalled a bit, giving Gwyn a brief respite. Yet, it only gave her mind time to race with worries.

“Why is this happening now? It’s too soon,” she asked Madja, her voice tinged with anxiety.

“It’s okay,” Madja reassured her with a calm smile. “Some babies are just ready a little earlier than others. They might be a bit small, but with love and care, they’ll be just fine.”

Azriel closed the door softly behind him and moved to her side. He brushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead, his touch gentle and comforting. “They’re probably just impatient like you,” he teased lightly, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves.

Gwyn managed a laugh, hoping to push away her lingering worries. Looking up at Azriel, her eyes were filled with determination and love. He always had a way of making everything seem better, always knew exactly what to say to ease her fears. She loved him so deeply, and it pained her that their wedding had been cut short. She grabbed his hand as she said, “I want Deirdre to come and marry us.”

Azriel blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Now? Gwyn, you’re in labour.” Madja seemed to understand their need for privacy and busied herself at the dresser with various bottles and medical instruments.

“I don’t care,” Gwyn insisted, her voice steady despite her discomfort. The cramping was creeping back, causing her to twist her body to try to ease the pains. “We promised we’d be married before the baby was born, and I intend to keep that promise.”

Azriel hesitated, his face growing a bit serious. He took a deep breath, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. “Gwyn… there’s something I need to tell you,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper.

Gwyn’s eyes widened, a flicker of panic crossing her face. “You don’t want to marry me anymore?”

Azriel laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Gods, no, Gwyn! I’d marry you a million times over if you asked. But there’s something I’ve been holding back, something I’ve wanted to tell you for months. Madja said not to stress you out, but with the baby coming now, I think it’s time you knew,” he reasoned.

Gwyn now tightened her grip on his hand, her heart pounding with anticipation.

“We don’t have to get married to be committed to each other.”

Gwyn’s expression turned puzzled. “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

He reached up, cupping her face in his hands, his voice tender and sincere. “The first night we were… together, it snapped for me. The bond.” His eyes gazed at her as if she were the most precious star in the sky. "I’m your mate, Gwyn. I made a promise to you already—to stand by you, to never leave you. And I meant every word. We can still have our wedding if it’s important to you, but know this: my heart and soul are already yours… I am yours.”

Gwyn stared at him, stunned. She had always felt a special connection with Azriel but had assumed it was just their well-matched personalities. But mates? How had she not figured it out? Why hadn't the bond snapped for her yet? Was something wrong on her end? Was it broken?

As she reeled through a million questions in her head, she realised he was right now to tell her. Now, she was stressed, wondering what was wrong with her.

“Wh–Why can’t I feel it?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

“I don’t know,” Azriel admitted, his fingers caressing her cheek with loving strokes. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re my mate, and I am yours. We don’t need a wedding ceremony to make this real. We have something even better.” His other hand rubbed against his chest, where he must have been able to feel their bond. Gwyn felt the faintest tug within her own chest and rubbed the same spot as him, wondering how strong it would feel when the bond snapped.

She wanted to ask more questions, but a fresh wave of pain sliced through her, cutting off her thoughts. Another contraction hit, and she cried out.

Azriel gripped her hand again as Madja rushed over, her expression serious.

“I think it’s time.” She helped Gwyn open her robe further, preparing for skin-to-skin contact once the baby arrived, then positioned herself between Gwyn’s legs to assess how far along she was.

“You’re fully dilated. You need to take a deep breath and then push as hard as you can on your next contraction, okay?” Madja instructed.

Gwyn nodded, steeling herself.

When the contraction came, Gwyn pushed with all her might, her scream echoing through the room. She was already exhausted, but there was no time to rest before the next contraction struck, forcing her to push again, another piercing scream escaping her lips.

By the third push, Gwyn felt utterly drained. Tears streamed down her face as she glared at Azriel in frustration. “I can’t believe I let you do this to me.”

Azriel chuckled softly, brushing his lips against her knuckles. “You’re doing so well, Gwyn,” he encouraged, his voice filled with admiration despite her harsh words.

As the fourth contraction hit, she screamed and cursed, gripping Azriel's hand so tightly he thought his bones might break. He didn’t care. All that mattered was Gwyn and their baby. He also knew better than to take her harsh words to heart, as she called him a ‘fucking bastard’ and swore she would never have sex with him again.

Madja gave Azriel a sympathetic smile. He was sure she’d heard it all before. “You’re almost there, Gwyn,” she said encouragingly. “Just one more push.”

Gwyn shook her head, sobbing in exhaustion. “I can’t… I can’t do it…”

Azriel leaned in close, pressing his forehead against hers, his voice soft and soothing. "Yes, you can, Gwyn. You’re the strongest person I know. Just one more, my love."

She nodded with tears. With a final, agonising push, giving it everything she had left, Gwyn half screamed, half sobbed as the baby finally came into the world. And then the room was filled with the sound of a newborn's cry, while Gwyn collapsed back onto the bed, utterly spent.

Azriel showered her with praises and kissing. “You did it, Gwyn. You’re amazing!”

Madja tied off the cord before carefully placing the crying babe onto Gwyn’s bare chest, placing a blanket over both of them. "Congratulations. Meet your healthy baby boy," she said with a joyful tone.

Gwyn gasped in awe and relief as she looked down at their son, watching him soothe instantly as she helped him latch onto her breast. "Azriel… look at him. He's perfect."

Azriel leaned in, his eyes shimmering with tears. “He’s beautiful, Gwyn. Just like his mother.” He pressed a kiss full of love to her forehead, filling her with warmth.

The baby had a head of dark auburn hair, teal eyes they could only glimpse as his sleepy lids stayed mostly shut, and a pair of little, velvety-soft wings tucked against his back. Gwyn gently touched one of the wings, marvelling at its delicate nature. “Just like his father.”

Gwyn looked up at Azriel, her eyes brimming with love. “What should we name him?”

They had discussed a few names but had never settled on any. They had decided on Catrin for a girl, but agreeing on a boy’s name had been more difficult. Now, all the names they had considered seemed too plain for something so special.

Azriel studied their son thoughtfully for a moment before smiling. “How about Theo?”

“Why Theo?”

“It’s an Illyrian name that means ‘gift from the gods’. And that’s exactly what he is.”

Gwyn nodded in agreement. It was perfect, just like him. "Hi Theo. Welcome to the world," she cooed at him, testing the name. Theo seemed to smile at it. So Theo it was.

As Madja cleaned Theo and dressed him in a onesie with the cutest little bat pattern, Azriel helped Gwyn bathe and dress.

Then their family was invited in.

Their faces lit up with happiness as they entered the room, eager to meet the newest member of their family. Feyre’s eyes filled with tears as Gwyn introduced Theo to everyone.

“Oh, congratulations,” she said, peeking at the newborn’s face. “He’s so beautiful.”

Rhysand's hands circled around his mate's waist, his eyes twinkling. "Makes me want another one." Feyre nodded in agreement.

Gwyn looked at them apologetically. “I’m sorry you wasted all that money on a wedding…”

Rhys waved her off. “We told everyone to stay and celebrate a birthday instead.” Azriel nodded his thanks to his brother.

Cassian was grinning from ear to ear as he took in his nephew. "Look at those wings! He's so cute."

Nesta rolled her eyes but smiled. "Don’t get any ideas,” she warned Cassian before turning back to her sister. “He's perfect, Gwyn."

“He’s freaking adorable,” Emerie sobbed out. “You two are going to be amazing parents.” Gwyn was surprised by Emerie’s emotional display; she was usually the rock among them.

Mor wrapped a supportive arm around Emerie’s shoulder, her own eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I’m so happy for you both.”

Amren gave a nod of approval as Varian extended his congratulations.

As the family shared stories and laughter, Gwyn felt a sense of peace wash over her. She had faced so many challenges, dealt with so much loss, but she had emerged stronger than ever. She had her baby boy. She had her mate. She had everything.

After a while, Madja gently ushered everyone out, insisting that the new parents needed some rest. Rhys cast a ward on the room to block out the sounds of the party happening outside, allowing Gwyn to get some much-needed rest.

Despite her exhaustion, she found it difficult to place Theo in his bassinet. As she held him close, inhaling his newborn scent and feeling the warmth of Azriel’s embrace, she wished she could stay in that moment forever.

Azriel pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his voice a gentle murmur in her ear. "I love you, Gwyn. Forever."

Gwyn smiled, leaning into his embrace. "I love you too, Azriel. Forever."

She thought about the mating bond and all the moments when it could have snapped into place. But maybe it didn’t need to, or at least she didn’t need to rush it. For now, it was enough to focus on their little family and all the new magical moments to come.

Chapter Text

7 Years Later

When they arrived at the River House, the air was alive with cheerful chatter and the warm hum of family voices. Azriel had barely taken a few steps toward the dining room before Nyx, eyes sparkling with excitement and wings flaring, ran toward him.

“Uncle Az! You promised me a flying lesson today!”

Theo, bouncing with the same enthusiasm, chimed in, “Oh, I want to go too, Dad! Please!”

Unable to resist their infectious joy, Azriel chuckled. “Fine! But just a quick one.”

The boys cheered, racing toward the gardens while Azriel followed, casting a playful glance back at Gwyn. Through the windows, she could see the gardens bursting with colour, blooming vibrantly under the golden summer sun, making the perfect backdrop for their flying lesson. She smiled warmly before heading toward their family.

Gwyn made her way over to Feyre and Rhysand first to offer her congratulations.

She fawned over the newest addition to the family: their newborn daughter cradled in Feyre’s arms. The little girl, with her raven hair and delicate features, was so beautiful. Gwyn couldn’t help but boop her tiny button nose before taking a seat between Nesta and Emerie, who greeted her with hugs and hand squeezes.

It wasn’t long before the door to the dining room swung open, and Elain walked in, a hand on her rounded belly which was impossible to ignore. The room went silent as all eyes turned toward her. Lucien followed close behind, carrying their two-year-old daughter, who had inherited her mother’s golden-brown hair. Their other three children six-year-old twin boys and a four-year-old girl, all sporting their father’s fiery red hair bounded in with uncontainable excitement. The twins ran straight to Mor and Emerie, who scooped them up with delighted laughter. Gwyn greedily wanted Rose to run to her, but she couldn’t help but smile as the little girl made a beeline for her favourite uncle, Cassian, who scooped her up and showered her with kisses, making her giggle.

Elain settled into her seat with a satisfied sigh, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around the table. “Well… we have some news,” she said, her voice brimming with playful anticipation, as if she were already savouring the reactions to come.

Cassian raised an eyebrow, grinning from ear to ear. “Again?”

Nesta’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Gods, Elain, you breed quicker than a rabbit!”

“One of us has to,” Elain shot back with a dramatic roll of her eyes. She looked pointedly at Nesta and Cassian. “Children are so rare!”

Feyre smirked as she teased, “Are you sure about that? Seems like a myth when it comes to you two.”

Lucien chuckled, leaning down to press a tender kiss to his mate’s temple before heading for an empty seat across from her. “What can we say? We’ve been abundantly blessed.”

As he passed his brother-in-law, Rhysand reached for their daughter Ivy, who Lucien happily handed off, eager for a break. Rhys gushed about how much she had grown, and Ivy smiled up at him with the same sweet charm as her mother.

Cassian hugged his mini Vanserra tightly, his tone mischievous as he said, “Maybe save some blessings for the rest of us, fireling!”

Elain’s eyes widened with excitement. “Oh my gods, are you finally trying?”

Nesta huffed out a laugh, shooting a withering look at Cassian. “He wishes! I’m thinking another 90 years of freedom before we even start talking about it.”

Mor and Emerie chuckled, nodding in agreement, while Cassian just grinned. He seemed pretty content with his favourite uncle role for now.

Elain threw Nesta another playful eye roll before turning to Gwyn, who was thoroughly enjoying the Archeron antics. “What about you, Gwyn? Are you and Azriel planning to have any more?”

Gwyn’s smile grew as she exchanged a warm glance with Elain, her friend and in-law through Lucien. Discovering her grandfather’s identity a few years ago had been a shocking revelation, but she had come to embrace her Vanserra heritage with pride. Especially now that Beron no longer tormented them and Eris was transforming the Autumn Court for the better. “If the Mother wills it,” she said, her voice soft and filled with hope.

She and Azriel had started using contraceptive tea shortly after Theo was born, not wanting any more unexpected surprises. But lately, the idea of adding another little bundle of joy to their family had begun to tug at her heart, especially with the arrival of Rhysand and Feyre’s baby girl. The sweet, newborn scent had her yearning for another tiny miracle.

Feyre glanced around the room and suddenly noticed a missing presence. “Where’s Azriel gone, anyway? Lunch will be served soon.”

Gwyn snapped out of her daydreams, a smile still lingering on her face. “He’s outside with Nyx and Theo. I’ll go get him,” she said, standing up and heading toward the gardens. She looked back at her family with a heart full of gratitude, feeling incredibly blessed to have them all in her life. Despite their busy schedules, they always tried to carve out this time for each other every week.

_______

As Gwyn stepped outside, a warm smile spread across her face. Azriel was in the middle of a flying lesson with Nyx, encouraging him to keep going as he flapped his wings and slowly lifted off the ground. Their son Theo clung excitedly to his father’s side, Azriel’s arm wrapped around him, pulling him close as they watched Nyx.

Azriel bent down to be eye-level with Theo. “Your turn, buddy. Are you ready?”

“What if I fall?” Theo asked, worry creasing his boyish features.

“Then I’ll catch you! I’ll always catch you,” Azriel promised, pulling his son into a comforting embrace. Once Theo was released, he ran over to where Nyx was practising and mimicked his movements, lifting a few inches off the ground before landing.

Azriel clapped and cheered for both boys, a proud, radiant smile lighting up his face. His eyes, full of love, made Gwyn’s heart skip a beat.

Then, she felt it—a sharp, undeniable tug in her chest that pulled her toward Azriel. She watched in awe as golden threads unravelled from her, stretching across the space between them to the male she loved so dearly. Azriel’s smile faltered as he clutched his chest, his eyes finding hers.

“Was that…?” he began, his voice a mix of disbelief and hope as he closed the gap between them, Gwyn rushing to be near him too.

Gwyn nodded, “The bond just snapped!”

Azriel’s response was instant—he grabbed her, lifting her into his arms and twirling her around in pure joy. Gwyn buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent greedily as a deep, primal need surged within her. “We need to ask Nesta and Cassian to babysit,” she gasped urgently into his ear.

Azriel set her down, studying her face as if seeking answers to a question he hadn’t yet asked. When the scent of her arousal hit him his eyes widened in understanding. The shadows quickly masked her scent from the others.

"Cabin?" Azriel asked. Gwyn nodded enthusiastically.

"Right now?"

Another nod.

Azriel didn't need anything more than that.

“Theo, come here, buddy!” he called out. Theo and Nyx ran over, curiosity in their eyes. “How do you feel about having a sleepover with Aunt Nesta and Uncle Cass? Mommy and I have some business to take care of.”

Theo shrugged nonchalantly. He was used to his parents going away on missions. “Can Nyx come too?”

Azriel nodded, knowing it would be fine, and the two boys high-fived before heading back toward the house.

Gwyn’s hand clung to Azriel’s, her desire for him growing more desperate by the second.

Inside the dining room, the table was set with a feast, the sound of laughter and clinking cutlery filling the air. Gwyn hurried over to her sister.

“Nesta,” she began, trying to keep her voice steady despite the growing urgency she felt. “I need you to mind Theo for a few days.”

Nesta smiled warmly as Theo took a seat beside her. Leaning in, she whispered in his ear, “Of course, I’ll mind my favourite little guy!” He laughed and wiped at his cheek where Nesta had kissed him. She then turned to look up at Gwyn, curiosity in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“The bond just snapped,” Gwyn whispered, barely able to contain her excitement.

Nesta jumped up from her chair, pulling Gwyn into a tight hug. “Oh my gods, congratulations!”

Various eyes turned toward them inquisitively. Gwyn noticed that Azriel was currently being crushed in a hug by his brothers. Azriel returned it, but his eyes were constantly darting back to Gwyn, the bond pulling at him, his thoughts clearly with her.

“Thank you,” Gwyn said with a laugh. “We should only be gone a day or two.”

Nesta chuckled. “No need to rush! Go have fun.”

Just then, Azriel joined them, his own need evident as his posture tensed and he tugged gently but persistently on the bond. “Can we go now?”

Nesta laughed as Gwyn replied, “Absolutely!” Her desire for him was nearing its boiling point. “You can fill everyone in once we’re gone,” she instructed Nesta, who responded with a nod and a wink.

After giving Theo a final hug and kiss, Gwyn and Azriel hurried off to the cabin, eager to accept the mating bond they had been waiting for.

They didn’t return until a week later.

Chapter Text

Azriel didn’t waste a second after they entered the cabin. His hands found Gwyn’s waist and lifted her effortlessly off the ground as her legs wrapped around him. Without breaking their desperate kiss, he navigated through the cabin, heading straight for the stairs.

As they reached the bottom of them, Gwyn suddenly gasped, breaking their kiss. “Wait! We need food.”

Azriel’s steps faltered slightly, his eyes narrowing in frustration, “Can’t it wait?” She could feel his straining length against her, begging them not to stop.

“It’s part of the bonding ritual,” Gwyn said with an innocent smile, batting her eyelashes for good measure. “I have to offer you food before we can complete the mating bond. It’s an important step.” She was 90% sure the food offering was more symbolic than anything and wouldn’t actually affect the bond, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. This was more fun.

Azriel blinked, clearly torn. He sighed and set her down gently. She always won. “Fine. Of course. Food.” He headed toward the kitchen, opening cabinets with swift, impatient movements.

Gwyn followed, her lips curving into a smile as she watched him, flustered and determined. It still amazed her how, after all these years, she could unravel him so easily.

“Fuck! This can’t be happening,” Azriel muttered, his frustration mounting as he opened another empty cupboard.

Gwyn’s amusement turned to concern. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s no food! Nothing… all the cupboards are completely empty!” he exclaimed, disbelief colouring his voice.

“What? There’s always food here!” Gwyn moved to the coldbox, opening it just in case. It was completely barren too—no leftovers, no forgotten morsels—nothing. She groaned in frustration. “Seriously? There’s nothing here.”

The cabin was mostly used in the winter, so it made sense it wouldn’t be stocked for summer, but the timing couldn’t have been worse.

Azriel leaned against the counter, a laugh escaping him despite the situation. Gwyn joined in, the absurdity of their predicament too much to resist.

“Well, we could always forage outside. There might be some wild berries or apples,” Gwyn suggested, though her gaze flicked down to the unmistakable bulge in Azriel’s pants. He might end up ravishing her outside if they left the cabin.

She noticed Azriel whisper and his shadows began to move with purpose, darting around the room and searching every crevice, corner and crack in the cabin. They returned with a buzz of excitement, one of them dropping a small, shiny object into Azriel’s waiting hand.

Gwyn squinted at the item. “Is that... a caramel?”

Azriel raised an eyebrow as he examined it. “Seems like it. My shadows found it under the couch.”

Gwyn gave them a nod of approval, and they danced from the praise. She took the caramel from Azriel, inspecting it. “It’s wrapped, at least. Maybe it’s not too old.”

“Only one way to find out,” Azriel said, his tone a mix of light-heartedness and desperation.

Gwyn unwrapped the caramel, giving it a quick sniff. It smelled fine enough. “Are you really going to eat this?”

Azriel nodded, a teasing glint in his eyes. “If it gets you naked quicker, then yes.” He grabbed her hand, urging her to continue.

She could have told him that the food offering probably didn’t matter, but she loved that he’d eat a mystery sweet off the floor just for her. With a mischievous smile, she asked, “Do you accept this food I offer you, mate?”

Azriel leaned forward, his mouth closing around the candy as he grinned. “Yes, I do, mate.”

His smile quickly turned to a grimace as he sucked on the hard caramel. His teeth met the rock-solid candy with a wince. He tried to bite down, careful not to crack a tooth. “I think this might be from quite a few winters ago,” he said, his voice muffled as he struggled with the ancient candy.

Gwyn couldn’t help but laugh, covering her mouth as she watched him. “I think a taste is probably enough! You can just spit it out,” she suggested, unable to let him struggle any longer.

Azriel spat the rock-hard caramel out dramatically, sending it flying halfway across the room before it rolled back under the couch. His eyes darkened as he took her in, a devious smile spreading across his face. “Get upstairs… now.”

His voice was low and husky, sending a thrill up Gwyn’s spine. She didn’t need to be told twice. She turned and ran for the stairs, with Azriel right behind her.

_______

Azriel had ripped away half of Gwyn's clothes by the time they tumbled onto the bed.

“Fuck! Can you feel that?” he gasped, their bond burning with an intensity that felt like the sun itself, threatening to burst out of their chests.

Gwyn pulled him down on top of her, kissing him fiercely as she used one hand to push down his trousers and boxers. His hard cock sprang free, eager and ready. She needed him inside her more than she needed air to breathe.

“Now who’s the impatient one?” he teased, his tongue and teeth licking and nipping at her jaw and neck. He gripped his throbbing length, nudging her underwear aside before thrusting into her slick entrance, with a force that drew a cry from her lips.

Gwyn arched into him, her breath catching as he began to move. His thrusts started gently but quickly grew desperate, matching the urgency of their need to connect in every possible way.

She clung to him, her nails digging into his back as she matched his rhythm. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, each thrust and breath pulling them closer, not just physically but spiritually.

Azriel’s growl of pleasure rumbled in her ear as he lowered himself to her level. “You always feel so good around me,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. Gwyn moaned at his words, her need for him intensifying.

The bond between them flared to life, golden threads of energy bursting from their chests to intertwine. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist; there was only Azriel—his touch, his scent, the warmth of his body pressed against hers. Mate.

Gwyn gasped, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions from him through the bond—his love, his devotion, his absolute need to protect and cherish her. She sent back all the love and desire she felt for him, knowing he would feel it too. He gazed at her in amazement, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

She traced the contours of his face with trembling fingers. “I’m yours,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over their mingled breaths.

Azriel’s response was a deep growl of satisfaction. “I’m yours, and you are mine.”

They moved together with growing desperation, their pleasure building to a crescendo. When it finally broke, it was like an explosion of shadows and light, a wave of warmth that consumed them both. Gwyn cried out, her body trembling with the force of her release, Azriel’s name on her lips as she fell over the edge. He followed a moment later, a low groan escaping him as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his body shuddering with the intensity of his climax.

For a long moment, they lay tangled together, their hearts pounding in unison as they caught their breath. The bond pulsed brightly between them, stronger than ever—a living, breathing connection that bound their souls for eternity.

Azriel finally lifted his head, his eyes shining with love and contentment. He brushed a stray lock of hair from Gwyn’s face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “I love you… more than anything,” he whispered, his voice filled with wonder as he gazed lovingly at his mate.

Gwyn smiled, her heart swelling with happiness. She replied with a kiss that deepened into an overwhelming need to have each other once more, as they let the frenzy take over their bodies and souls.