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Chapter Text

Gwyn

Gwyn took off her glasses and put her hands over her face, rubbing at her eyes. She had been working on the spreadsheet for literally hours, converting pure data into something digestible for the masses – or in her case, the higher ups at Night Corp., who had the audacity to ask for the regional growth estimates for the next five years at 4:30 p.m. and needed the information the first thing in the morning.

Nesta Archeron, Gwyn’s best friend who worked in Legal, had popped into her office at 5:15 p.m., already wearing her coat.

“Since you are still nose-deep in your screen, does this mean you won’t make it to happy hour with Em and I?” Nesta asked. Em was Emerie Carynthian, their other best friend and one of the few people she knew that didn’t work at Night Corp.

Gwyn put her head down on her desk briefly. “Amren asked for a bunch of reports for the exec meeting like 30 minutes ago. There are at least 12 sources of information I am going to have put together, calculate and forecast out.”

“Sounds boring. So this means I should reconsider asking you to be my maid of honor, is that right?”

“This means you should leave me alone or I’ll never get out of here tonight. And I am sorry and will definitely make it up to you. Give Em a hug for me.”

Nesta blew Gwyn a kiss that morphed into a middle finger, then breezed off with a cackle.

That was five hours ago. Checking her phone Gwyn realized it was nearly 10 p.m., way past dinner or any reasonable time to still be at work. All the other offices were dark. She quickly typed out an e-mail to Amren and attached the spreadsheet, sending it off before finally logging out. Gwyn got up to stretch and start gathering her things when she noticed the motion-detector lights in the hall turning on as someone walked over.

Gwyn sat back down quickly but knew she had already been spotted. Her office was the only one with lights still on. She swallowed down a groan and ran a hand through her long auburn ponytail while her other hand smoothed down her grey skirt.

Night Corp. comprised of an entire office building in downtown Velaris. The executive team was located on the top floors, followed by Legal, Finance, Marketing. The analysts like Gwyn were located in the lower levels, on the same floor with the company’s IT and security groups.  

And the person who ran cyber security for Night Corp. happened to be the only other person insane enough to still be in the office at ten at night. Gwyn often saw Azriel Singer prowling the halls on her level, working closely with his tech teams – it seemed to her that he would rather hide out in the server or security control rooms than sit with his executive peers in their glass-walled gilded cages on the upper floors.

“You’re here late, Berdara.”

“I could say the same for you, Singer.” She wouldn’t have dared address another member of the Night Corp. executive team so flippantly, but it was too late in the day for office etiquette. Plus it was just him.

“I’m heading out now.”

“Same.” Gwyn slipped the strap of her tote over her shoulder and grabbed her coat as she left her office.

They walk to the elevator in silence, their path illuminated by the overhead lights. While Gwyn carried her tote, her empty coffee tumbler, phone and coat, Azriel held nothing and just walked along, hands in the pockets of his sleek dark trousers. Gwyn did not fail to notice that Azriel was in his trademark black, his tall frame covered by one of his meticulously tailored suits, paired that day with a navy button-down and matching silk tie. The only signs that it was the end rather than the beginning of the day for him was that his tie was loosened and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone.

Nothing about Azriel went unnoticed to Gwyn. From his glossy dark hair cut short on the sides and left a little long on the top, to his hazel eyes that glowed against his tanned skin. From the sharp cut of his jaw to the fine line of his straight nose. She knew he had dimples because they also showed up when he grimaced. She knew from social outings that he hated crowds. That he didn’t like crushed ice in his drinks. She knew from the gym that underneath his usual strait-laced attire he had swirls of dark tattoos that covered his arms, shoulders and chest.

 She kept an eye on Azriel because she didn’t trust him.

Azriel pressed the Down button, then put his hands back into his trouser pockets as they waited. Eyes on floor numbers over the elevator doors, he finally deigned to address her again.

“So, what’s Merrill asked you to do to keep you here so late?”

Gwyn adjusted the strap of her tote as the elevator arrived with a ding and the doors slid open. Azriel was kind enough to hold the door to let Gwyn enter first, but then he pressed the B button for basement level, where underground parking was located, without asking if she was going to the same floor. (She was. So she chose to not say anything).

“It wasn’t Merrill this time, it was Amren. She asked for some growth projections for your executive team meeting in the morning.”

“Ah, she’s got you dumbing down figures so we can understand them.”

Gwyn could have laughed politely and said nothing – or have said anything else. But instead, she replied quickly with an “Exactly.”

Azriel let out an amused huff in response. Which was as close to a laugh as Gwyn had ever heard from him at, or outside of, work. She was standing right next to him, and the elevator never felt so large or so small. When Gwyn turned her head in his direction, she could catch a faint whiff of his cologne which smelled expensive – it made him smell like night-chilled mist and cedar. Whatever that meant.

And the smell must have gone completely to her head, because she briefly forgot where she was and who she was with when she asked, “Hey, if you haven’t eaten yet, we could maybe grab a bite at the  –”

“I’ve got a – date.”

“A date? Isn’t it a little late to take out – ”

“It’s not that kind of date.”

Gwyn saw Azriel clench his jaw briefly. She couldn’t help herself. “What kind of date is it if you’re not taking her out?”

 “Do you really want me to spell it out for you?”

He reminded her very quickly why they weren’t friends.

Thankfully the elevator finally reached the basement level and the doors slide open. As they stepped out, Gwyn’s eyes went immediately to the only car still left in the reserved executive spots close to the elevators – a sporty black Mercedes sedan with tinted windows. Of course that’s what he would drive.

Gwyn adjusted her shoulder strap again and nodded briefly in his direction. “Well, have a good evening then.”

Azriel responded only with a tip of his head before he pressed his key fob and his car roared to life remotely.

Without looking back, Gwyn walked to the only other car still parked on the garage level - her blue Honda Civic – several rows back. She fumbled through her tote for her keys and finally got in, locking the door behind her. Before her, she could see Azriel’s ultrabright headlights flash as he pulled out of his parking spot and headed to the exit.

Gwyn rolled her neck as if she could roll that exchange right out of her mind. That went as she should have expected. She referred to every time she and Azriel spoke as ‘exchanges’ because they could definitely not be considered as conversations.

Under any other circumstance they should have been at least friendly, if not already friends. Gwyn’s best friend Nesta was engaged to Azriel’s brother, Cassian Lord, and they were going to be maid of honor and best man at their wedding. They saw each other all the time socially, they even went to the gym together since Cassian trained her, Nesta and Emerie. Hel, they worked at the same company.

Plus, Gwyn was friends with everyone. Because she was a nice person. Damn nice. People told her that unironically to her face. All the time. And everyone found her damn charming. Except for damn Azriel Singer.

Gwyn’s drive home wasn’t long, only about 20 minutes. She lived in a fifth floor one-bedroom apartment that was a new-build, directly across the hallway from Nesta – who happened to have a larger place with the better view. Though not for much longer. Nesta spent half her time at Cassian’s penthouse now anyways and would be moving in with him after the wedding. Gwyn could not have been happier for her dear friend, but did not like to think about what it will be like when a stranger was living across the hall from her instead of the closest person she had to family in the world.

It was past 10:30 when Gwyn finally made it home and there was not much time left in the day to do anything except to change and wash up. Dinner was a bowl of cereal eaten while standing in her small kitchen. She then padded from her kitchen to her living room filled with her mismatched furniture – a combination of thrifted pieces and Ikea – to grab her phone and the novel she was halfway through reading before retiring to her bedroom. Gwyn’s phone dinged just as she settled into her queen-size bed.

Nesta: r u still at work or did u ditch us

Gwyn: I hope you both had a terrible time without me. I’m home and going to bed.

Emerie: We missed you. I can’t handle Bridezilla w/o backup

Gwyn: I’ll make it up to you both. Good night.

Nesta: spending the night at Cass, luv u

Emerie: Love you losers

Gwyn plugged in her phone and turned off her bedside lamp. The book laid untouched on the bed beside her. Sleep usually found her easily enough, but she knew she’d be wide awake during the single digit hours of the night. Gwyn drifted off to sleep to the sounds of nothing, one hand pressed against her chest, feeling the steady beating of her own heart.

Chapter Text

Azriel

When his alarm went off, Azriel was already wide awake, lying in bed with his eyes closed, feigning sleep. He rolled over and turned off his phone with a groan, swinging his long legs off the bed. It didn’t help that he didn’t get home until two – or three, was it – in the morning, thanks to the blonde who took him back to her apartment last night.

Azriel padded to his bathroom and assessed himself blearily in the bathroom mirror – he had dark rings under his eyes and needed a shave, but at least his abs looked good. Azriel didn’t consider himself a vain male, but he was well aware of how eyes followed him almost everywhere he went, and he couldn’t help but to play into it sometimes. He was young, successful and an executive at Night Corp. after all – a representative for Rhysand Night and his illustrious family. He needed to look and live the part.

Azriel made sure he was always immaculately dressed, took care of his body, and ensured that every single thing in his life was streamlined and done with precision. It was exhausting sometimes. But he didn’t remember a time where this wasn’t his life.

After getting ready, Azriel got into his Mercedes and left for work. He liked to drive in silence – it gave him time to collect his thoughts and mentally prepare himself for the day. Which he had needed more of because he wasn’t at his desk for 10 minutes before Amren Drake stormed into his office, Cassian and Nesta in tow. Amren was Rhysand’s second, his chief finance officer and a spitfire in the form of a petite Asian female with a penchant for Armani and red lacquered nails that looked as deadly as her gaze.

“What have you done about your security breach?”

“Good morning to you, Amren,” Azriel murmured, looking up slowly from his screen.

“Well?”

Azriel leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. His gaze did not leave Amren’s. “The breach has been identified, vulnerable systems shut down and nothing major has been adversely impacted. Ops, Legal and you can stand down.”

“Rhys wants an internal audit done and I agree. What if we have a bigger issue next time? What if intellectual property gets out?”

“Isn’t that what Nesta is for?”

Nesta had been standing in the back of the office by the door, looking at her nails, but her head picked up at the mention of her name. Cassian interjected.

“We’re just trying to be proactive here, brother.”

Azriel could have held Cassian at a standstill all day, but he knew better than to try to be assertive in a room where both Amren and Nesta’s steely gazes were fixed on him.

“Fine, I’ll get my –”

“No, we’re going to assemble a cross-functional team for this. I want you involved directly, not one of your little spies, and you’ll work with Ops and Legal –” Amren gestured to Cassian and Nesta “– along with our strategic research team.”

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck. “Is this all really necessary –”

“You can tell Rhys if you disagree. He’s speaking at the CEO Summit today, but I’m sure he’ll find some time to address your little concern.”

“Never fucking mind,” Cassian groused. “I’ll ask Ananke to clear my schedule.”

Amren turned her silver gaze to Nesta. “Clear your schedule too. And your friend Gwyn’s.”

Azriel made a face, asking, “Shouldn’t we ask Merrill? It’s her team. Maybe she would prefer to assign someone else –”

“I want Gwyn. She did a good job with our forecasting a few weeks ago. Plus, I fucking hate Merrill.” Amren pointed a gleaming red claw at Azriel. “You go tell her. And our first meeting is tomorrow at eight sharp.”

Amren stormed out, brushing past Cassian. Nesta stepped aside just in time to get out of her way.

The three of them regarded each other silently. Azriel turned to Cassian with a heavy sigh. “A little warning would have been nice.”

“There was no time, brother. She’s on a fucking warpath.”

“I don’t have time for this.” Azriel ran his hand through his hair.

“And we do?” Nesta spoke up, hands on her hips. “We’ve got our regular jobs, a wedding in a month, and now your damn mess to tidy up.”

“I’m sorry. This is a security issue, my team and I will do the heavy lifting.”

“You bet your ass you will. And you still need to get back to Gwyn about the wedding shower stuff.”

“I – ”

“And about this audit team bullshit too.” Nesta pivoted on her stiletto heels and marched out of Azriel’s office.

“While we’re all piling it on, we’re also training tonight, don’t forget.” Cassian threw the last comment in with a wink before following Nesta out.

Azriel leaned back against the headrest of his armchair and finally let out the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Fuck me,” he muttered as he rubbed his temples. And it was only 8:30.

He hadn’t had any interaction alone with Gwyn since that evening leaving the office weeks ago. He remembered having been a bit snarky to her, but he wasn’t one to pretend to be nice if he hadn’t felt like it. They had seen each other socially a bunch of times since then anyways. She had seemed fine.

In fact, over brunch last weekend, he and Gwyn had agreed to co-host and organize the wedding shower with Cassian and Nesta but had not had a chance to discuss it further. Azriel saw an e-vite go out a few days ago and had assumed that Gwyn must have already had the shower arrangements firmed up and planned down to the minute. He’d write her a check to cover his share of the expenses, then some.

At work, Gwyn was smart, quick and meticulous, of course she’d be perfect for this team. The problem was that between being friends with Cassian and Nesta, helping with the wedding planning, and having her work on the same floor as most of his team at Night Corp., he already saw entirely too much of Gwyneth Berdara. The thought of now also having to be stuck in a meeting room with her for hours on end was already making his heart beat strangely in his chest.

Nesta was right. They needed to talk. So Azriel did the thing he thought made the most logical sense at the time and sent Gwyn an Outlook meeting request for lunch.

Which she didn’t end up declining, but also never responded to.

And at 12:15, after having sat in his office for 15 minutes with two unopened boxed lunches that his assistant had ordered and no Gwyn in sight, Azriel grabbed the containers and marched himself down to the eighth floor where the research group was located.

Most of the offices and cubicles were empty but sure enough, Gwyn’s light was on and door closed. Azriel helped himself through the door without knocking and stopped in front of her desk, dropping the containers with a thud on some of her folders.

  Gwyn peered at Azriel over the glasses she wore for computer work but did not give him a greeting.

“Did you not get my meeting request?” Azriel asked, exasperated. “I can tell you opened it.”

“Sounds like you’ve answered your own question.” Gwyn turned back to her monitor.

“We need to talk. Like about the internal audit team that you’ve been added to.”

At that, Gwyn paused and took off her glasses. Azriel could tell that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Do I have a choice about that?”

“Amren requested you specifically, so no. First meeting’s tomorrow at eight. You’ll need to reschedule everything else.”

“Oh Merrill is going to love that,” Gwyn muttered, rolling her teal eyes with a sigh. “Is there anything else? Or was this one of those ‘meetings that could have been an e-mail?’”

“This is not a meeting, this is supposed to be just fucking lunch, Berdara,” Azriel growled out.

“Then don’t call it a meeting and send a meeting notice, just ask me to lunch like a normal person would!”

“Look, I – ” Azriel paused, voice quieting as he searched for the right words. “I assumed you wouldn’t have accepted a lunch invite from just me.”

Gwyn looked at Azriel like she was waging an internal monologue of what insult to throw at him next. But she surprised him when she didn’t say anything at all and instead moved some of her folders and books off her desk to make room for the lunch containers. She even grabbed a box of tissues and set that down.

Azriel took that as a sign of a momentary ceasefire and offered up some plastic forks and two bottles of water he had pilfered from the executive level kitchen and shoved into the back pockets of his trousers. He sat down on the visitor’s chair next to Gwyn’s desk as she got up and walked around him to shut her office door. Azriel felt the air shift around him as she passed him, the whisper brush of her loose auburn hair breeze past his head.

Over salads, Azriel and Gwyn talked about the wedding shower and the arrangements that had already been made (caterer, bar, rentals) and the ones that still needed to be determined (DJ or no DJ, the kind of games they should play). Debated whether it would be too cheesy for them to coordinate outfits since they were co-hosting. Speculated what Rhys and Feyre might have up their sleeves for the bachelor and bachelorette parties. Bet on when Cassian would start crying on his wedding day (definitely before the ceremony).

They spent an hour and a half over the ‘lunch that wasn’t a meeting’ while Azriel had his phone shoved into his trouser pocket on silent mode and Gwyn ignored the at least dozen Teams messages that popped up on her screen. Though the exchange was surface level, it was also the longest and most amicable conversation the two of them had ever shared without the presence of others. Gwyn had genuinely laughed at things he said. Azriel may have smiled in her presence.

A tentative knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Roslin, Azriel’s executive assistant, was appropriately apologetic when she reminded him of a scheduled video call with Beron he couldn’t miss.

After checking the time on his phone, Azriel got up from his seat and reached for the empty food containers. “I guess duty calls. Thank you, Berdara, for your time … and company.”

“Thank you for lunch.” Gwyn reached over her desk to Azriel and put a hand on his forearm, a soft smile on her lips. Her teal eyes stared into his. “And Singer? You assumed wrong.”

Something sparked in Azriel’s chest at that, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He couldn’t stop picturing it though, as he made his way back to his office. How Gwyn looked at him with such unabashed warmth. But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly.

Chapter Text

Gwyn

Gwyn took a long sip of her spicy Bloody Mary and let her eyes roll back. “Mmm, this is exactly what I needed. This, and four more of this.”

“Good thing I’m the one driving,” Nesta chuckled, stirring her iced tea. “But agree. This week has been absolutely soul sucking.”

They were one week into Amren’s internal audit team meetings and so far Rhysand’s second had been brutal. Regardless of what information Azriel presented about assessed potential threats and proposed follow-up courses of action, Amren demanded the data to be recalculated and re-reviewed by the team, with all the supporting documentation. There were so many acronyms and codes involved that by the end of each day, not even Cassian felt like pushing everyone to go to the gym.

Thankfully it was finally the weekend, and that meant no heels, no spreadsheets, and plenty of chatter over brunch with Nesta and their other best friend, Emerie. Emerie lived in Windhaven, a town nearly an hour’s drive from Velaris, but she still made the effort to come into the city to train with Cassian and see her friends at least once a week.

“Oh you poor corporate drones. Listening to you two whine about your jobs makes me feel so glad I work for myself,” Emerie smirked, taking a bite of her veggie omelet.

“Yes, but at least we have tech support,” Gwyn replied, cutting into her French toast.

“By tech support, do you mean Azriel?” Emerie teased, brown eyes twinkling. “Is he who you call when you need your ‘toner replaced?’”

Nesta cackled into her tea while Gwyn regarded Emerie flatly. “You know that’s not what he does. And how did you manage to make that sound filthy?”

“Hey, your mind went there, not mine.”

Gwyn rolled her eyes and stabbed at her breakfast.

“I’m kidding,” Emerie acquiesced, reaching over and putting her hand on Gwyn’s shoulder. “I know you don’t do casual, and Azriel Singer is the furthest thing from serious.”

“He’s not that bad,” Nesta offered.

Emerie pointed her fork in Nesta’s direction. “Azriel may not be a bad guy, but he is a fuckboy with a capital F.”

“Hey, I’ve messed around a lot myself. Remember me two years ago? I was pretty much open to sleeping with anyone with a dick.”

Gwyn remembered when she had first met Nesta. She was fairly new to Night Corp. at the time, working in the archives, when in walked Nesta Archeron looking like she wanted to burn the entire building down. Gwyn had only heard about the Archeron family through office gossip at that point – that Rhysand took in the three sisters after their father died and family business collapsed. Rhysand moved them to Velaris and had set them up in one of his family homes. Though Feyre and Elain acclimated to their new lives quickly, Nesta, the oldest sister, was deeply hurt, resentful – and absolutely self-destructive.

But deep in that dusty repository Nesta and Gwyn befriended each other. Nesta introduced Gwyn to Emerie. And somehow over smutty books, gym workouts, lots of late-night takeout and not a few tears, the three of them forged a friendship that helped to heal them all and carry Gwyn through these last years.

Gwyn looked softly at Nesta. “You were going through a lot then. And then you started healing and remembering your worth and found the love who deserved you.”

“While Azriel is just a grown-ass-man in his 30s who should know better by now,” Emerie added matter-of-factly.

“Maybe he just needs to meet the right person,” Nesta offered with a shrug.

“Does he even hang around any single female long enough to know anything about her except for her first name and bra size?”

“Well, he hangs around Gwyn plenty.”

Two pairs of eyes turned in her direction. Gwyn felt suddenly like she needed another drink.

“I mean, Azriel’s not … unattractive … but we have zero interest in each other,” she responded, unable to stop the sudden flush to her cheeks. “Plus, you know I’m not even thinking about dating right now anyways.”

Which was the truth. She hadn’t seen anyone since she and Balthazar broke up a few months back. And Emerie was right, Gwyn was not one for casual. And that was all someone like Azriel would want from her. Not that he would want her at all.

But Gwyn also didn’t miss the looks that Nesta and Emerie gave each other at that moment, so she decided it was time to change the subject. “Can we not talk about fuckboys anymore? I’d much rather hear about what Nesta is going to make Cassian wear to their wedding shower. It’s in, like, a week.”

Nesta’s eyes lit up and the conversation for the rest of brunch was successfully diverted away from Gwyn. Nesta and Emerie were more than her best friends – they were Gwyn’s chosen sisters, the two most important people in the world to her. She trusted them implicitly (and Gwyn didn’t trust anyone). However, she never wanted to be the subject of their combined focus.

By all outward appearances, there was nothing out-of-the-ordinary about Gwyn – she was social, smart, funny. Some people even considered her attractive. But very few people knew the real Gwyn behind the carefully cultivated easy-going façade.

The one who literally moved across the country under the cover of night to escape her demons. The one who secretly hated birthdays and holidays because she had no one to spend them with. The one who spent her nights in silence because the thoughts running rampant through her mind already made enough noise. The one who couldn’t date casually because she was ashamed of how long it took her to feel safe enough to trust someone else with her body.

And once brought back to surface, those were the thoughts that haunted Gwyn’s mind for the remainder of the day. Even though she continued to smile and joke and nod attentively in public. Until she was home in her bed, trying to will her mind to shut itself off.

Which was how at two in the morning, Gwyn found herself alone at the gym, Radiohead’s Creep blasting through her wireless earbuds, trying to beat the shit out of one of the heavy bags.

Something soft hit her back and she turned in surprise to find a balled-up gym towel on the ground. The assailant was none other than Azriel, standing a few feet away in slim black trousers and a matching crewneck sweater. There was a gym bag slung over one shoulder. His dark hair was unstyled and fell forward in front of his eyes. Azriel offered her a nod of greeting as she took off her punching gloves and removed her earbuds.

“We always seem to run into each other at odd hours, Berdara.”

“This isn’t an odd hour for me. I do my best work in the middle of the night.” Azriel raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t say anything. Gwyn bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smirking as she reached for her bottle of water. “You’re a little overdressed for the gym.”

“I was – out.”

“Ah, got it. You had one of your ‘dates.’” Gwyn emphasized the last word with air quotes. “You think you’d be worn out by now.”

“It’s been a long week of sitting. I could use a good pump.” Gwyn snorted, and Azriel shook his head in mock disapproval at her. “Behave, Berdara. I’m going to go change real quick.”

Azriel went into the locker room and returned a few minutes later wearing a black sleeveless tee and grey shorts. His strong shoulders and arms were on display, accentuated by the swirls of his dark tattoos. Gwyn swallowed hard and became very interested in undoing the wraps on her hands as she felt her face heat up.

“So, what are you doing here?” Azriel asked as he started loading weights onto a barbell. Luckily he hadn’t seemed to notice the effect he and his biceps were having on her. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping … or something?”

“I don’t sleep well. And what do you mean by ‘or something?’”

Azriel threw her a look. “We’re both adults here, Berdara. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t like to go out and just pick up random people.”

“How do you get to know anyone if you don’t put yourself out there?”

“Your definition of putting yourself out there and mine are very different,” Gwyn scoffed, rubbing at her palms. She felt herself inching closer to Azriel as her irritation level rose.

“Are you saying that you think you’re better than me, Berdara?”

“I didn’t say it. But I do think I put a little more thought into who I date than you.”

“Well, you must have pretty lofty requirements then. As far as I know, you don’t date at all. You broke up with that Bart-guy months ago, didn’t you?”

“His name was Balthazar.” Azriel made a face at the name, to Gwyn’s chagrin. “And what’s your point? One-night stands aren’t dates either.”

“I just skip to the good parts.”

“The buildup is the good part!”

“The buildup just leads to unrealistic expectations and disappointment.” Azriel finished loading his bar and turned to Gwyn with an assessing look. “So what do you do when you get an itch you need to scratch? You’ve been single for months. You can’t tell me that you’ve gone all this time without –”

“Mind your fucking business, Singer,” Gwyn snapped. “I’m not so desperate for approval that I just go bang the first person that looks my way.”

Azriel took a step towards Gwyn, weights forgotten. “Is that what you think.”

Gwyn could feel her hair sticking to her neck as instant regret set in. “It’s not. It’s just … don’t you want more than some random hookup every other night?”

“Why the fuck would you care about what I want?” Azriel snapped back.

“You’re right. I’ve overstepped.” Gwyn backed off, throwing her hands open. “I’m just trying to get to know you better … and I’m doing a shit job at it.”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately, but the anger that had flared in his hazel eyes seemed to go out. He made to turn back to his weights, but stopped short and inclined his head to Gwyn, before asking lowly, “What is it about me that triggers you so much?”

“What? You don’t – I – I’m going to go.” Without waiting for a response, Gwyn grabbed her bag and headed to the exit, trying her hardest to walk away at a normal pace and not break into a run like she wanted to.

She groaned loudly when she finally made it outside, feeling foolish, embarrassed and still a little bit angry. Gwyn walked to her car quickly, realizing she hadn’t bothered putting her hoodie on and it was freezing out. She considered briefly going back inside and begging forgiveness for acting like a prude bitch but didn’t. Azriel hadn’t followed her out – heobviously wasn’t going to apologize for his remarks, so why should she? They ended things at an impasse, like they did almost every other time they spoke to each other.

As she drove away, Gwyn still couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that lodged itself in her throat. They were both angry and said stupid things, but they’ve snarked at each other plenty before and went about their days like nothing happened. Why were Azriel’s last few words to her bothering her so much? His words hurt her. And the reason she felt badly was because she could tell that he was hurt when he when said them.

“What the fuck,” Gwyn muttered to herself, gripping the steering wheel. When had she started considering Azriel Singer’s feelings?

Chapter Text

Azriel

It was late afternoon on Wednesday, or better known as, Day Eight of Amren Drake’s Leadership Hel Camp. The internal audit team had been holed up in the executive boardroom for a week and a half now and there was not enough caffeine or sugar in all of Prythian to raise morale. Nesta was absent-mindedly crumbling up a cookie on her plate, while Cassian had his chin propped up with his elbow on the table, eyes unfocused. Gwyn did an admirable job of staying attentive but even she was looking worn down as the afternoon progressed. Azriel was presenting, trying to go through his slides as succinctly as he could, but things screeched to a halt every time Amren had a question – and she had a lot of questions.

When the clock hit 6 p.m., Amren got up from her seat and put a hand up to stop Azriel from talking. “We’re close to the finish line, but there are still a few more systems to go over. However, I’ve got a meeting with Summer Corp. I need to attend tonight –”

“I call bullshit, you’re ditching us for a booty call with Varian,” Cassian called out, perking up from his daze.

“Don’t be crass,” Amren shot back. “But yes, I am.”

While Cassian started getting up from his chair, Amren pointed to a pile of boxes stacked on the sideboard. “Before you guys go though, all that paperwork needs to be collated and copied by tomorrow for the board meeting.”

“Are you fucking kidding?!” Cassian exploded, at the same time that Nesta slammed her palms down on the conference table.

“You can’t expect us to do all that. Cassian and I have a meeting with our wedding planner that we already had to reschedule twice.” Nesta was seething.

“Look, I can stay and do it,” Azriel volunteered, trying to keep the peace. “You guys go, we don’t all need to be here for this.”

“Don’t you have any interns or techies you can call in to do this?”

Azriel looked at Cassian flatly. “I’m not going to pawn this shit off on other people.”

“You’re an executive, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do!”

“I can help too,” Gwyn offered, starting to clear the empty water bottles and coffee cups off the table. “You guys go do your wedding thing; Amren go do your – Varian.”

Nesta and Cassian gave grateful hugs to Gwyn and Azriel before departing quickly. Amren had already slid out the door without a word.

Gwyn stood across the room from Azriel and offered up an encouraging smile. They hadn’t talked about what had happened at the gym at all. The more days that passed, the more awkward it felt to bring it up at all.

“So …”

“Sorry for ruining your evening plans, Berdara.”

“Good thing for you I didn’t have any plans to ruin, Singer.”

Azriel’s lips twitched in response. He decided to take his suit jacket off, loosened his tie, then proceeded to undo his cuffs and roll up his sleeves. Azriel almost never took his jacket off at the office, much less did anything to reveal any hint of his tattoos. He was usually all business all the time at work. But it was going to be a long evening and he didn’t have anyone to impress.

Or did he? He caught Gwyn staring at his exposed forearms and politely cleared his throat to knock her out of her thrall. Pink flushed across her face immediately as she looked quickly away, reaching to grab her phone. Azriel turned to the boxes on the sideboard, trying to suppress the self-satisfied smirk that crossed his face.

“Well uh, since we’ll be here a while, I’m going to order in some food. You have any requests?” Gwyn asked, nose still in her phone.

“I’m not picky.”

“Then I’ll order from that Thai place down the block if you’re good with it. What would you like?”

Gwyn spoke casually, but Azriel couldn’t help feel like it was a bit of a peace offering. He loved Thai food. And they’d had enough meals around each other that she most likely remembered that.

“Chicken pad thai and summer rolls.”

“Extra peanut sauce?” Gwyn never missed anything.

“Yes, thanks.”

They spent the next hour amicably working together, sorting through boxes. Azriel organized and collated files while Gwyn scanned and copied. When the food delivery arrived, Azriel ran down to the lobby to grab it. When he returned, he didn’t fail to notice that Gwyn had twisted her long hair back into a loose bun and removed her cardigan, leaving her in a silk sleeveless blouse that revealed a smattering of freckles on her shoulders.

Once they settled into their meals, they started talking about the upcoming wedding shower. Nesta and Cassian had decided to hold it at Cassian’s penthouse since they wanted to keep it small, and they were going to spend the morning of the party away with Feyre and Rhysand while Azriel and Gwyn set up.

“Do you need me to bring anything over to Cassian’s?” Azriel asked, wiping his mouth.

“I don’t think so, whatever’s not already piled up in his living room will be brought over by the caterers. We’ll need your help pretty early on that day though,” Gwyn responded, poking at her noodles with her chopsticks. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with setup and not able to play golf with Rhysand and Cassian.”

“Just part of the responsibilities of being best man,” Azriel shrugged. “I’m happy to do whatever we need to make it a good day for Cassian and Nes. Plus, Cass is a shit golfer, Rhys is going to have a miserable time.”

Gwyn smiled softly. “I think it’s so great how close you brothers are.”

“You know Rhys and Cassian aren’t technically my brothers by blood, right.”

“I do listen sometimes, Singer.” Gwyn rolled her eyes, her expression light. “Cassian told me that Rhysand’s family took you both in when you were kids.”

“And Rhys’ mom raised us. We’ve been pretty much inseparable since - went to the same schools, played the same sports, even joined the military together.”

“And now you all run Night Corp. together too.”

He nodded. “You can understand why I am so loyal to them – I owe them everything.”

Gwyn’s lips quirked. “I can understand that nepotism figured in there somewhere.”

Azriel couldn’t help his chuckle at her irreverent comment. “I’d do anything for Cassian and Rhys.”

Gwyn grinned back in return. “I feel the same way about Nesta. And Emerie.”

He nodded in understanding. This evening wasn’t turning out half-bad. They were talking amicably and opening up to each other. Gwyn’s smiles appeared genuine. This was good. Azriel tried to keep the momentum going. “What about you? I don’t remember if you’ve ever mentioned any siblings?”

“One. I had a twin.” And just like that …

Azriel didn’t fail to miss the past tense. “I’m so sorry. To have brought that up. We can talk about something else.”

“It’s alright. It’s not off-limits to ask about my family.” Gwyn’s voice was soft, staring at her container of noodles. She set her chopsticks down. “I just don’t have much to share … not much that’s positive, anyways. I never knew my dad, mom’s gone, lost my sister. My twin. I stuck it out in Sangravah as long as I could take it, then ran off to Velaris when I couldn’t. And that’s that.”

It was not an unusual thing to not be close to one’s family. That’s why he had never given it a second thought before when Gwyn had not been forthcoming in sharing anything about them. He hadn’t realized there was so much she had been keeping to herself. And he knew that she was just glazing over things in an effort to be nonchalant. Azriel’s eyes never left Gwyn’s face. Her expression was stoic, but she let him lay his hand gently over hers on the table. He opened his mouth to say something, but Gwyn cut him off.

“I don’t need your pity, Singer. I love my sister very much. I miss her all the time. But it was a long time ago.”

Azriel tried again, his fingers squeezing hers. “I know that. But there’s no timeline for healing. Or specific method. It’s okay to –”

“I don’t need to be coddled,” Gwyn retorted, pulling her hand away from his. He felt its absence. “Everyone tells me to take my time, go at my own pace. I am capable of doing whatever I want, when I want to, in spite of everything.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

Gwyn nodded back lightly, her lips a line on her face. After a moment of pause, she set off in motion again, clearing off the food containers. Without looking at Azriel, Gwyn said, “Break’s over, Singer. These papers won’t scan themselves.”

Azriel did not press or offer further apology. She already found him irritating enough, he didn’t want to needle her about her past as well. He offered her a hand, but she didn’t seem to want him to be a shoulder to cry on. He would accept that.

The next three hours passed tediously slow, despite the efficient routine that Azriel and Gwyn adopted. When Azriel put the final cover back onto the last box, there were 20 neatly copied and bound reports sitting on the conference table.

Gwyn leaned back on her chair, looking around the room gratefully. “Paper cuts aside, you’re not a half-bad intern, Singer.”

“Don’t make me blush, Berdara.” Azriel walked over to pick up his suit jacket and offered Gwyn his hand. “It’s late, shall we get out of here?”

Gwyn looked up at Azriel. “Don’t tell me, you’re late for another one of your ‘dates.’”

“No,” he responded, dropping his hand. He busied himself with rolling his cuffs back down. “You don’t know me as well as you think.”

“Sometimes I don’t think I know you at all,” Gwyn remarked with none of her usual bite. “But I would like to try to.”

Azriel huffed a laugh and looked away from her to brush off the comment. “I think you’re too nice for your own good.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re stuck dealing with people like me.” He turned back and leveled his eyes at her. “And you’re still kind.”

“You could be less terrible if you tried to be, Singer. Who knows, someone may actually end up liking you,” Gwyn smiled kindly as a faint blush rose on her face. She started gathering her things.

“I don’t have any trouble meeting women, Berdara.”

“Oh you meet them just fine. But then you also go through them like their feelings are disposable.” Her off-hand comment had a bite that set Azriel on edge.

 “Feelings don’t have to be involved when it’s just sex.”

“Is it ever more than just sex for you?” Gwyn slung the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder and assessed him frankly.

Azriel shrugged, brushing off the irritation. “Does it need to be?”

“Don’t you ever want something more meaningful?”

This woman. “You’ve asked me this question multiple times, Berdara, and the answer is always the same. I don’t want complicated.”

“Are you really that afraid of having feelings for someone, or are you afraid of someone having feelings for you?”

“I didn’t ask for a fucking therapy session,” Azriel gritted out.

Gwyn threw a hand in the air and started marching towards the door. “No, you just shut the fuck down if I try to talk to you. Excuse me, if I can’t even  –”

Azriel’s temper flared and he cut her off, blocking Gwyn’s exit with an arm across the doorway. She was tall and wearing heels, but Azriel still towered over her as he leaned in and snarled at her lowly.

“Haven’t you ever met someone that just drives all rational thought from your head? Someone you take just one look at and want so viscerally that you can’t think about anything else?” Azriel was inches from Gwyn at this point, his eyes hooded as they swept over her face. They were standing so closely that if she inhaled they would be touching. Gwyn seemed to be trying not to breathe, not to move at all. “All you can think about is the way they look, the way they sound, the way they move, the way they smell … all you want is to know is how they taste, how they feel, how they react when …”

Gwyn inhaled deeply then and Azriel’s resolve all but crumbled. Her lips were parted. She felt warm and a soft pink flush was creeping up her neck. Her eyes weren’t focused on his, instead looking intently at his mouth.

“Keep going,” she whispered breathily. Azriel screwed his eyes shut and bit down on his lower lip. She was so close.  He could feel his heart beating through the fabrics of their shirts. Or was that hers?

“Haven’t you just wanted someone, Berdara?”

“Yes,” she murmured in response, jutting her chin up so their faces were even closer. Her teal eyes peered into his hazel ones. “But I want to be respected and valued more. I'm not just some quick fuck.”

She put a hand up in between them then and lightly pushed him – or was it herself? – back, then quickly ducked her head under his still-outstretched arm and walked away into the darkness of the hallway.

Chapter Text

Gwyn

Saturday morning was a blur of activity to get ready for the wedding shower. Gwyn showed up early to Cassian’s penthouse wearing sweats and primed to work. Azriel, of course, had beaten her there and was already moving chairs around when she walked in. He had also gotten them both coffees and a bag of pastries. Gwyn greeted him with a small smile as she accepted her almond croissant. Azriel gave his usual nod, small quirk of the lips, as he sipped his coffee.

There were so many things they needed to say to each other, so many mixed up and messed up feelings to sort out between them. They were friends (maybe?) but there was also something simmering underneath, something that seemed to have them both clawing and swiping at each other whenever the other showed any semblance of vulnerability. Like they enjoyed the pain. And as was almost always the case, they left things unsaid, letting it build until they set each other off, then promptly ignored it.

Today was a good a day as any to swallow down their own confused misery and distract themselves with the task of fabricating other people’s happiness. In the form of balloons, champagne and endless yards of tassel garland.

The rental companies, caterer, and florist all showed up in short order after that. They helped to turn Cassian’s penthouse into a setting any party planner would have been proud of, complete with photo booth, deejay, food displays and full bar. Tea lights and elegant floral arrangements were everywhere.

Azriel lived three floors below Cassian so he went home to change. Gwyn used Cassian’s master bath. Despite them both having agreed that it would be completely cheesy, they did end up coordinating their outfits – subtly. Gwyn wore a strappy midi-length dress with a blue and white floral print. Azriel deviated from his usual attire and wore a navy suit with a crisp white tee. He had a pocket square in the same blue and white print as her dress. How he managed that, Gwyn had no idea.  

The guests of honor showed up early. Nesta cried when she walked into the apartment and practically choked Gwyn and Azriel with her hugs. Cassian tried to be more stoic, but Gwyn saw him dabbing at his eyes when Azriel walked him out to the terrace, which they also decorated. Holding the shower meant that it was another day closer to the wedding itself.

Rhysand and Feyre arrived with Elain in tow. Gwyn didn’t know the middle Archeron sister well and what little she did know she heard about from Nesta. Elain never visited Night Corp. and Gwyn rarely saw her socially, but she knew that Elain was a talented florist and baker who had an on-again off-again relationship with the handsome restaurateur Lucien Vanserra (they were currently off-again). Gwyn always thought that Elain was easily one of the most beautiful women that she had ever seen – her golden-brown hair flowed in loose ringlets down her back and her wide brown eyes were ringed with thick lashes. That day she wore a softly ruffled pink dress that showed off her slender figure.

Gwyn watched Nesta greet her sisters with squeals and hugs even though they had just spent the morning together. Her heart wretched briefly at the thought of her own sister. She swallowed down her pang of sorrow and continued to busy herself with arranging the monogrammed cocktail napkins into a uniform pile.

“At some point you’ve got to stop obsessing and just enjoy it.” Emerie sidled up beside Gwyn and offered her a glass of wine. “Nes and Cass are thrilled, everyone who matters is here and they’re all having a great time.”

“I am enjoying it. I just am …”

“… a perfectionist? Overzealous? Far too amiable for your own good?”

“Just wait until you get engaged. Nesta and I are going to shut down all of Velaris to celebrate you.”

“Well someone’s got to find me a lucky lady first.”

“Whatever happened with you and …” Gwyn’s voice faded off when out of the corner of her eye she noticed Elain approach Azriel. He was looking at her, a gentle smile on his lips. Elain put her hands on Azriel’s shoulders close to his collar and stood up on her tip toes to plant a soft kiss on his cheek … and lingered there … for two seconds … three seconds … oh for fuck’s sake … and then finally pulled away, slowly lowering herself back to her heels while she held his gaze. 

 The snap of fingers in front of Gwyn’s face brought her back. Emerie held a look on her face that was a combination of annoyance and concern. “Where did you go?”

“I was just … thinking about running out … of fruit.”

“What are you talking about? We don’t even have any fruit …” Emerie’s voice trailed off as she followed the direction of Gwyn’s eyes to Elain and Azriel, still standing close to each other. “Ohhh … does that concern you?”

“No, of course not. I feel bad … for Lucien.”

“Oh, right, they’ve broken up again, haven’t they.” Emerie picked up a plate and started putting cheese cubes on it. She gestured back. “I wonder if Az and Elain ever had a thing, they look awfully cozy.”

“Awfully is right …” Gwyn muttered, turning away from the pair and taking a long sip from the glass of wine Emerie had passed to her earlier. The fine vintage that Rhysand selected from his own cellar for the party tasted like acid going down her throat.

“I mean, they’re both so damn pretty, they would look good together, wouldn’t they …” Emerie prattled on, but Gwyn had tuned her out. For some reason she didn’t want to - couldn’t bear to – listen.

Maybe Elain would be the one to thaw Azriel’s inaccessible heart. Maybe she was the someone he had mentioned wanting the other day. Wouldn’t that be serendipitous for the three brothers to match with three sisters? It would be so tidy. Like they were fated.

The thought felt like a burning knot in the center of Gwyn’s chest and every flickering ember singed at her insides. Jealousy was a bitter pill and Gwyn was holding it in her mouth. Chewing at it slowly and letting the asperity of it fill her and threaten to choke her where she stood. 

Gwyn excused herself from Emerie and escaped to the terrace. It was a little chilly out, but the bright sun and cool breeze felt good. Her mind was spinning. What the fuck was happening? How could she possibly be jealous over Azriel? As if he even wanted her – as if she wanted him! Why should she give a shit about Azriel and his soon-to-be-maybe-already-is lover?

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

Gwyn turned at the sound of the warm, mellifluous voice behind her. And beheld the most beautiful man she had ever seen approach, radiating grace and ease. His violet-blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Hello, Rhysand.”

“Hello, Gwyneth.” The head of Night Corp. flashed her a brilliant smile. He gestured to her glass. “Enjoying the wine?”

“It's delicious, thank you for bringing it,” Gwyn lied. She had no doubt the wine was good but hadn’t been able to register the taste of even a drop of it.

“I’ve heard that you and Azriel have been pulling a few late nights together with this audit business.”

“We have.”

“You two work well together.” Rhysand picked at a fleck of lint on his dark sports coat and gestured around. “As evidenced by the reports, and this party.”

“We’re compatible ... in that regard.”

Rhysand nodded with understanding. “Well, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time, but Feyre asked me to find you.” He leaned into Gwyn and whispered conspiratorially, “I think she means to introduce you to someone, so if you really don’t want to, we can make a break for it.”

Gwyn chuckled. She remembered being tongue-tied by the intensity of his gaze the first time she spoke to him at the coffee shop she worked at when she was new to Velaris. The shop was down the street from Night Corp. and Rhysand would show up often in the afternoons, when it wasn’t busy. They exchanged niceties that eventually turned into full-blown conversations while he drank his Black Americanos. Rhysand was the first friend Gwyn made in Velaris, the one who offered her a job at Night Corp., and the only person outside of Nesta and Emerie who knew the entirety of her background.

“I appreciate the warning. I doubt Nesta would let either of us get very far though.”

“Gwyn!”

The pair turned to see Feyre and Emerie approaching, a guest in tow. “I sent Rhys to go find you, and of course he ends up hiding out with you instead.” She gave her husband a teasing grin before turning back to Gwyn and pulling her forward.

“Gwyn, I want you to meet a good friend of mine, this is Tarquin. Tarquin runs Summer Corp. – he’s the youngest president they’ve ever had. I’ve been meaning to introduce you two for ages. Tarquin, this is Gwyn, she’s a dear family friend. And you just met Emerie as well.”

She vaguely recalled Feyre mentioning some guy that she thought Gwyn would be interested in at dinner a few weeks back and Gwyn was supposed to have reached out to him via text, but she had conveniently forgotten all about it.

And now she was looking up at the same 'some guy' standing next to Feyre and tried not to gawk. Tarquin looked like a fantasy romance character. He had long white dreads that he had half pulled back, giving Gwyn a clear view of his startling turquoise eyes and strong features. His skin was rich brown and looked almost gold-dusted in the afternoon sun. He wore a light beige suit and white button-down that accented his tall, fit figure.

Emerie slipped next to Gwyn, leaning in close so only she could hear. “When Feyre pointed out Tarquin, I had to come with. I’m not into men, but damn, I might change my mind for this guy.”

Gwyn’s cheeks pinked and she smiled shyly, reaching out a hand to Tarquin. “It’s nice to meet –”

“I’m sorry, but any friend of Feyre’s is a friend of mine. And I hug my friends,” Tarquin interrupted smoothly, taking Gwyn’s hand and pulling her into him before wrapping his other arm around her. He was very warm. And … sturdy.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you both,” Tarquin continued, loosening his hold on Gwyn but still staring at her intently. He shifted his startling gaze to Emerie and gave her a deep hug as well. Emerie hugged him back, taking a long inhale of his hair before letting him loose with a sigh.

“Tarquin,” Azriel said by way of greeting, as he suddenly appeared next to Gwyn and handed her a fresh glass of wine. He murmured close to her ear, “Everything all right?”

“Azriel Singer! So nice to see you again,” Tarquin responded with a broad smile. He made no motion to hug Azriel.

“I was just introducing Tarquin to Gwyn and Emerie,” Feyre offered brightly.

“So you were,” was Azriel’s flat reply.

“You have so many enchanting friends, Feyre.” Tarquin smiled charmingly. Emerie preened at him. “I know we’ve all just met, but I’d love to invite you to Adriata sometime, I have a place there on the cliffs overlooking the half-moon bay.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Gwyn said, at the same time that Azriel responded with, “Sounds crowded.”

Feyre came up and linked her arm through Azriel’s. “Az, I think Cass needs us to go do something for him.”

Azriel shot a cursory glance in Cassian’s direction. “He looks fine to me.”

Feyre responded by poking Azriel on the side and staring hard at him. He glared back at her and didn’t budge.

“It’s a little chilly out, no?” Tarquin spoke to the group but was only looking at Gwyn. “Shall we head back inside?”

Gwyn’s eyes flitted to Azriel, but he was staring very intently at his drink.

“Sure, I could use something warm.”

Emerie wagged a finger at her as Gwyn let Tarquin guide her back inside with a light touch to her elbow. He led her to an unoccupied cocktail table and stood right next to her, his fingertips still grazing her arm.

“I apologize for pulling you away, but it was getting a little crowded. I had hoped for a quieter setting so I could get to know you better.”

“You mean Feyre didn’t already tell you everything about me?” Gwyn hadn’t meant for her words to sound the way they came out, but Tarquin laughed politely nonetheless.

“She’s told me some. Enough that I wanted to know more.” He scrutinized her intently. “You work at Night Corp. as well?”

“Yes, I’m an analyst there.”

“An analyst? Brains and beauty, what an enticing combination.”

They chatted about Gwyn’s work, Tarquin’s home, the cold weather in Velaris, the floral print of her dress. Tarquin was talented at keeping the conversation going and mood light as they spoke uninterrupted. Gwyn suspected that Feyre has something to do with keeping their nosy friends at bay.

Gwyn was flattered at the idea of Tarquin. He was handsome, successful, charming and most importantly, interested in her. He was right in front of her with only her in his eyes and saying all the right words. He wasn’t trying to irritate her, not trying to challenge her, definitely not embracing middle Archeron sisters in rooms full of people.

That made up her mind.

“Can I borrow your phone?” Gwyn decisively extended her hand out to Tarquin, palm up. Without hesitation he reached into his pocket, unlocked his phone and handed it to her. Gwyn entered her number on it and sent herself a text.

Tarquin took his phone back with a grin. “And now we have each other’s numbers.”

“Yes.”

“I can make good on my promise to show you Adriata.”

“That’d be … lovely.”

“Unfortunately I’m leaving tomorrow but I’ll be back for the wedding. Maybe we can spend some time together at the reception? And perhaps you would also like to have dinner around then too, just us?”

“I’d … like that.”

“So would I.” Tarquin reached over to take her hand and lift it up to his lips. His kissed her knuckles lightly, his bright calming eyes never leaving hers. “It’s been my greatest pleasure meeting you, Gwyn.”

Chapter Text

Azriel

Azriel checked his phone for the fifth time in as many minutes. How long were wedding showers supposed to last for? The people had shown up, had eaten the food, had watched their presents get opened and oohed aahed appropriately. Now they were just draining all the alcohol and standing around aimlessly enjoying themselves.

His apartment was just three floors down, maybe he could slip out and –

“The best man is supposed to stay until the end and then help with clean up. Don’t even think about it.”

Azriel turned to address his party co-host. “I wouldn’t dare bail on you, Berdara. I was just going to ask you to come with me.”

Gwyn snorted. “I wish. My feet are killing me.”

“Then come on.”

“We can’t seriously leave!”

“We’re not going to leave; we’re going to take a break.” Azriel took Gwyn’s hand and led her, not out of the apartment, but down the hall, away from the party, to the third room on the right. He opened the door and peeked in, then pulled Gwyn in after him. “This is one of Cassian’s guest bedrooms. They’ll never know we’re here.”

Gwyn sat down immediately on one of the armchairs. “Oh, thank the Cauldron!” She took off her heels with a grateful sigh. “I never learn my lesson about new shoes.”
 
Azriel leaned against the dresser with his hands in his pockets. Gwyn’s long auburn hair tumbled over her shoulder in loose waves as she crossed her legs and reached down to rub the sole of one foot.

“You know I’ve been told that I give excellent foot massages.” Azriel didn’t know what came over him to offer that. Only that he wasn’t able to keep the words from tumbling from his mouth when he saw her long legs and cascade of hair. “Totally friendly, of course. I mean, I’ve even given Rhys massages before.”

Gwyn eyed him skeptically.

“They were short ones.”

“Fine, but I think foot massages are kind of weird.”

“That’s probably because you’ve never been given a good one before.” Azriel sat on the edge of the bed across from her and Gwyn slowly extended a foot towards him. He took her foot in his hands and started kneading with gentle but firm motions, squeezing her finely curved arch and moving up to her calf, then down again. It felt intimate to be alone in a bedroom with an attractive woman and caressing her bare skin. Azriel noticed that Gwyn had relaxed under his touch, her foot flexing under his ministrations. “Nice color.”

“Hm?” Gwyn’s eyes were closed.

“Your pedicure. Red looks good on you.”

“Oh.” At that Gwyn opened her eyes and straightened up on the chair. She pulled her foot back.  “Thank you, that was –”

“I’m not done. Give me your other foot.” Gwyn stared at him but extended her other foot. Azriel took it in his warm hands and started caressing her ankle, eyes focused on the long line of her leg. “So, you met Tarquin.”

“That was all Feyre’s doing.”

“She planning the engagement party already?”

“Oh please. She just thought we’d get along.” Gwyn shrugged, pulling her hair over one shoulder. “You don’t like him much, do you?”

“I just don’t see you two getting on too well.”

“Why not?”

“He’s too nice, you’d eat him alive.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.  Who would you have me go out with then?”

“Well, what about me?” The words left his mouth before he had a chance to stop himself.

Gwyn pulled her foot back. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be, Berdara.” Azriel’s heart started a low strumming in his chest.

“Have you run out of other women in Velaris?” She hastily put her heels back on and started making her way to the door.

Azriel stood up and blocked Gwyn’s path. “Can you stop walking away from me?”

“I’m not some easy lay, Singer. I’m not going to be another notch on your belt.”

“Why do you think so little of me?” Azriel stood in front of Gwyn with disbelief in his voice. “That’s not how I see you at all.”

“Did Elain turn you down earlier, is that why you’re suddenly interested in me?”

“What does Elain have to do with this?”

“You two looked pretty cozy.” Gwyn tried to go around him. Azriel didn’t budge.

“We’ve known each other a long time. She’s just … affectionate. She’s also involved with someone else.”

“I bet that hasn’t stopped you before.”

Azriel leaned in close to Gwyn and snarled, “Are you this vicious with everyone else, or do you just enjoy using me as your target?” 

She turned to face him then, teal eyes blazing. “Get out of my way, Singer.”

“Why do I piss you off so much. Do you hate me this badly?” He couldn’t help the edge of vulnerability that crept into his voice.

Gwyn paused. Her bravado faltered, the fire in her eyes fading. “I don’t hate you.”

“Then why are you always fighting me?”

“Does it really matter?”

“Yes, it fucking matters. To me.”

They stood toe-to-toe, assessing each other closely like two combatants. But this time Azriel’s bravado was all show – he might have looked as if he wanted to fight her, but deep down some part of him would have preferred to kneel in submission in front of her.

There was any number of things that Gwyn could have said, any number of visceral responses that Azriel would not have faulted her for, but to his surprise, she was similarly done fighting him. Her voice was soft when she spoke again. “You’re the most sought-after man in Velaris, you literally have your pick of anyone, why would it matter what I think.”

“It matters because I want to know what you think. Every day I want to know what you’re thinking. About every single thing.” His heart was now beating wildly through his chest at the admission.

“I don’t want to like you, Singer,” Gwyn said hesitantly. “You make me feel vulnerable and I don’t want to be that around anyone. I don’t trust myself around you.”

“We’re more alike than you think.” Azriel’s took Gwyn’s hands in his own, internally thanking the Cauldron that she was letting him. “Please stop pushing me away, Berdara. The last thing I want to do is to hurt you.”

“I’m not sure I know how to. This is a lot.”

Azriel pulled her close, tipping her chin up with his fingertips so she would look at him. “It is. And I have to admit don’t know what I’m doing. It’s a lot easier to keep things superficial, but I’ve been out of line with you. I’ve said some shit things to you because I didn’t want to get close. I’m so sorry for all of that. And I’m tired of trying to keep you at a distance.”

“Gods, we are both so messed up,” Gwyn remarked, eyebrows furrowing almost comically. “Maybe we’ll get a discount if we go see the therapist together.”

Azriel snorted. “Your sarcasm appears to be unharmed.”

“My skills at self-deprecation are unmatched, Singer.”

“So what would you like to do now?”  Azriel let go of Gwyn’s chin but they still stood close, intently assessing each other. “You like me … but you don’t want to.”

Gwyn’s lips twitched. Her eyes scanned his face, and then peered up into his through her lashes. She leaned closer.

“I like you …” and then she kissed him.

Azriel probably kept his eyes open longer than he should have, but he was too surprised to react. They had been edging towards something these last few weeks and just admitted to their mutual attraction, but still he was caught off guard. Gwyn kissed him. Gwyn was still kissing him.

Light, tentative touches at first as if she was testing the feel of him against her soft lips, then firmer, longer presses as their mouths became acquainted and desire bloomed. Azriel pulled her into him, his hands splayed around her waist and hips while Gwyn gripped his shoulders. Their kiss deepened as she opened her mouth against his, teasing the inside of his lips with her tongue. He ran his hand up Gwyn’s back and into her hair, pulling it lightly so he could angle her head to deepen their kiss.

Azriel walked them backwards until the back of his legs hit the bed. He sat on the edge and pulled her down with him. Not breaking their kiss, Gwyn climbed on top of him until she was straddling him, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck.

He could feel it low in his gut, the tension and warmth that was beginning to build as their pent up emotion was finally spilling into something tangible. Like Gwyn’s lips against his, her hands on his neck, his hands on her hips, their wet tongues against each other. Azriel broke their kiss with a gasp for air.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

Gwyn kissed him again. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I am ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Let’s be ridiculous.” Azriel’s lips slanted over hers again and again to punctuate each period.

Gwyn was breathless.

Azriel ran his hands down her waist, over her hips, letting them come a rest over her firm rear. He traced his fingers along the crease between her ass and thighs. He was so close to her core and knew Gwyn was well aware of that by the way she exhaled a long slow breath into his mouth.

“Oh you like that,” he rumbled against her lips.

“Shut up.”

Azriel responded by grabbing her behind the knees and pulling her flush against him in one quick motion. She could surely feel him now, how he was starting to strain beneath his pants, pressed against her center.

And instead of being shocked or offended, Gwyn let out a gasp of pleasure and canted her hips over his.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” Azriel gritted out, ghosting kisses along her jaw, nipping at her ear lobe, while he held her close.

Gwyn was softly panting, panting, against him, letting him ravage her jaw and neck as she gripped the lapels of his jacket. He could feel her nipples through the fabrics of their clothes against his chest. The thin straps of her dress had fallen off her shoulders. Azriel ran one hand up her waist and let it rest at the underside of one breast.

“Please,” Gwyn breathed out.

And with that one word, Azriel moved his hand up to cup her breast completely, squeezing it gently. He could feel her hard nipple against his palm. He lowered his head and started trailing kisses down Gwyn’s neck and across her collarbones, laving his tongue over the tops of her breasts.

His hand pulled down the top of her dress and pushed up her breast to expose a pale pink nipple. Azriel looked up at her through his lashes to gage her reaction when he started pressing kisses over her breast, exhaling hotly on her hard pink tip. She stared back at him with hooded eyes, chest rising and falling with her soft pants. He lapped gently at her nipple with his tongue, teasing her, feeling his cock twitch when her eyes fluttered at the sensation of his mouth on her. He closed his lips fully over her and kissed and sucked and nipped while Gwyn mewled, now carding her fingers through his hair. Emboldened, Azriel pulled the top of her dress down further and repeated the same action on her other breast.

He couldn’t put into words how much he wanted her at that moment, how seeing her so impassioned by what he was doing to her was driving him over the edge. His cock was fully hard in his pants, pressed up to his waistband as Gwyn sat flush against him. With every move of her hips on him, he swore he could feel the heat of her core through his pants.

Oh she wanted him.

And he wanted to be consumed by her. If this is how it felt now, what would it be like when they were pressed skin-on-skin and he could finally fully feel exactly how much she wanted him.

Azriel’s fingers found the zipper on the back of Gwyn’s dress and started pulling it down.

“Stop.”

He froze.

“We can’t. Not here. The people.”

Azriel laid his forehead down on the crook of her neck, trying to catch his breath. Gwyn was still gripping his hair, still pressed against him but no longer moving.

“Berdara, I –”

“Don’t.” She pulled on his hair so that he picked his head back up to look into the teal depths of her eyes. Her pupils were blown wide. “I wanted to as much as you did.”

“I still do.”

Azriel shifted his hips underneath her so she could feel how much he still wanted her. Gwyn’s breath hitched and her grip on his hair tightened.

“The people,” she gritted out.

“Right.”

Gwyn leaned away from him and adjusted herself back in her dress, pulling the straps back over her shoulders. She set one foot on the ground and stood up slowly on unstable legs, hand on his shoulder.

Azriel cleared his throat and adjusted his pants. “I’m going to need a minute.”

Gwyn huffed a laugh and tried to smooth her dress. “Nesta is going to know something’s up immediately.”

“Would it be so bad if she knew?”

“At her wedding shower? In Cassian’s guest bedroom? While we’re supposed to be out there hosting and entertaining people?”

“This would be pretty entertaining to people.”

“You’re disgusting,” Gwyn shot back with a roll of her eyes.

Azriel grinned.

They regarded each other with mirth in their eyes and a newfound lightness in their presence with each other. Whatever this was, Azriel wanted more of it.

“Do we really need to go back out there?” he asked, pointing a thumb at the door.

“Someone’s got to run the games.”

“There’s plenty of free alcohol. I think they can deal.”

Gwyn huffed a defeated laugh and covered her face. “We’re shit hosts.”

Azriel pulled her back towards him until she was standing between his legs while he was still seated. “Then we should be fired and replaced. Immediately.”

“Be serious.” Gwyn admonished playfully. She looked at him sincerely, her teasing demeanor fading into something shy. “I don’t know what got into me. I don’t just do that. I don’t just throw myself at random men.”

“I didn’t think I was just a random guy.”

“No, you’re …  Tell me this wasn’t a mistake.”

“No, of course not.” His hands gripped hers. “We’ve known each other for years.”

“We’ve been acquaintances.”

“Maybe we should try to be more,” Azriel offered.

“I don’t do casual, I can’t handle that.” He could already see her mind start to spiral.

“I want you. I like you.”

“Right now, sure. While I’m right in front of –”

“Gwyn.”

That stopped her right there. They so rarely ever called each other by their first names. Her resolve crumbled.

“Gwyn,” he said again slowly, softly. He was still holding her hands, not letting her go. “Will you let me take you out this week?”

“Like a date?”

“Yes – or no.” Azriel suddenly felt nervous. “We could just go outside … together. And do … things.”

“Like a date date?”

“Yes, but not a ‘date’ date.” He emphasized the last words with air quotes.

Gwyn’s lips twitched. “And if I refuse?”

“You can. But then I’ll sneak out here like I wanted to do an hour ago. You’ll have to handle Nesta all by yourself.”

“Well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice otherwise then.” Gwyn leaned over him and brushed a gentle kiss on his forehead. His nose. His lips.

Azriel smiled broadly.

And it wasn’t until many, many hours later when the party finally ended, apartment tidied, and guests of honor appeased that Azriel finally found himself back in his apartment.

It was late. He had been laying on his bed with holding his phone, unable to fall asleep just yet. There was one more thing Azriel wanted to do that day. He had had her number saved on his phone for two years but had never texted her directly. Until now.

Azriel: Hey

Gwyn: Hey you

Azriel: Made it home safe?

Gwyn: Yes.

Gwyn: I didn’t think you knew how to text in a non-group chat setting.

Azriel: You mean this isn’t Cassian?

Gwyn:  🤡

Gwyn: We did good today.

Azriel: You did good. You must be exhausted

Gwyn: I am.

Gwyn: I bet you are too.

Azriel: I could sleep

Gwyn: Nesta and Cassian owe us BIG.

Azriel: They do. Have a good sleep. Dream of me.

Gwyn: You wish 🙄

Gwyn: Good night

Gwyn: Azriel

Chapter Text

Gwy

Nesta and Cassian’s moods were infectious. It was one week until the bachelor/bachelorette weekend that Rhysand and Feyre were planning, which meant it was only two weeks from the big day itself. The pair was giddy, exhausted, exhilarated and overwhelmed. Which meant everyone around them was feeling the same way, especially their beleaguered maid of honor and best man.

But there was one silver lining amidst the chaos and it was that Amren was finally sufficiently satisfied with the findings of the internal audit and considered the project completed. Cassian might have tossed his papers into the air in relief when she closed out of her last presentation slide. Nesta just threw her entire set of report copies in the shredder bin before storming out of the conference room. Gwyn and Azriel were left, as usual, cleaning up after the pair.

“They get two more weeks of grace, then I’m going to set their shit on fire if they keep acting like this,” Gwyn grumbled, gathering together the reports and papers scattered around the conference table, while Azriel cleared off the empty water bottles and coffee cups.

“We could really stick it to them and just disappear for a week,” Azriel suggested with wink.

“That’d be brave and stupid, Singer. Nesta knows where I live, she’s got a key to my apartment.”

“Will I get to see your fabled apartment? Azriel asked lightly, throwing the plastics into the recycling bin. “When I pick you up? For our date tomorrow?”

“Are we officially calling it a date now?”

“We can call it whatever you like. As long as you remember you promised me the day.” Azriel walked over to where Gwyn was standing in the otherwise empty conference room.

“Will you tell me what you have planned?”

“You’ll find out. Wear pants and a jacket though. We’ll be outside.”

They stood a foot away from each other, looking for all purposes like colleagues, not touching. But the hairs on Gwyn’s arms were standing straight up already. “Mysterious and bossy. Lucky me.”

Azriel’s answering smirk was downright devilish. “Just wait for it, Berdara.”

Gwyn was barely able to ‘wait for it,’ her insides strumming with anticipation for the rest of the day and through the evening while she stood in front of her closet, finding absolutely nothing to wear. Under normal circumstances she would have called in a wardrobe emergency to Emerie or Nesta but she had not told either of them about her ‘date’ with Azriel. Or any of what had been transpiring between them.

It was easier for Gwyn to let them think that she and Tarquin had hit it off at the party and any momentarily lapse in mindfulness was because she was daydreaming about the head of Summer Corp. than to know the truth. She wanted this for herself for now, whatever this was. No one needed to know that she had spent the past week feeling like an exposed wire every time she saw Azriel at the office. That every time she caught him looking at her felt like a jolt to her chest.

In the morning a giddy Gwyn finally decided on a pair of faded ankle-length jeans, lace-up black boots and an ivory drop-shoulder top underneath an old leather moto jacket. She wanted to mix a bit of sexy with a mix of tough and hoped she got it right.

Azriel was supposed to arrive at 10 and a minute past time there came a knock on her door. He stood at her doorway looking casual, a little wind-swept and a lot delicious. Azriel’s dark hair fell loose over his eyes and he was wearing jeans, light sneakers, and a black henley top that did everything to enhance his broad-shoulders. He had his jacket draped over one arm and was holding two coffee containers and a paper bag. Gwyn’s greeting to him might have come out a little breathlessly.

She showed him her apartment, cheeks warmed by his sincere appraisal of how ‘homey’ her place looked and his astonishment at her wall of filled bookshelves. They drank the coffee and ate the pastries Azriel brought over on her kitchen table before heading out.

“Now will you finally tell me where we’re going,” Gwyn pleaded as they walked out of her building lobby.

Azriel shrugged nonchalantly, slipping on his jacket. “To the Rainbow, check out a few shops, have lunch.”

“Why did you ask me to wear pants then …” her voice trailed off as Azriel stopped walking in front of glossy, all-black Yamaha sport bike with two helmets sitting on top of it.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Azriel said with a small smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “The weather is supposed to be beautiful today and I thought you might enjoy the ride.”

“Ohhh …” Gwyn walked towards the motorcycle and ghosted her fingers over the front fairings. “It’s so …”

“I mean, if you don’t want to –”

“No, no, I’ve just never been on a bike before.” Gwyn slid her hand over the gas tank and leather seat. She had never seen anything so elegant and powerful before. Her teal eyes sparkled. “Is it fast?”

Azriel smirked. “It is.”

“How fast have you gone on it?”

“The speed limit.”

Gwyn couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes at his response. She never thought of Azriel being a biker boy, but the more she looked between him and the sleek lines of the motorcycle, the more it made sense. Both were highly-tuned, precision machines that were formidable and hard to handle. And sexy as Hel.

“I bought over one of my extra helmets for you. And we’ll just be cruising around town, not going very far or fast. If you enjoy it, maybe we can take longer trips and we get you fitted for your own helmet and some gear …” his voice trailed off as he realized he had been caught babbling, talking about a possibility that surpassed anything either of them had dared to consider yet.

“That sounds nice, Singer.” Gwyn smiled sincerely. Then she pointed to the helmet he held in his hands. “Will you show me how to put that on?”

Azriel nodded and helped put the helmet down over Gwyn’s head with the visor up. The fit was tight but not uncomfortably so.

“Once I turn the bike on we’re not really going to be able to hear each other, so let me tell you a few things now.”  Azriel helped Gwyn to secure the chin strap on her helmet. “Keep your hands on me or the gas tank, and feet on the pegs at all times. When I make a turn, lean with me. If I tap you on the thigh, that means we’re going to accelerate, so hold tight. If you want me to stop, tap my thigh and we’ll pull over immediately. Sound good?”

“Yes, sir,” Gwyn’s response was muffled in her helmet.

Azriel put on his own helmet, then his riding gloves. He swung his leg over the bike and motioned for her to get on the tiny passenger seat behind him. Once seated, Gwyn was practically molded to Azriel’s back, her arms and hands essentially gripping his waist. He rubbed her thigh encouragingly and then started the bike. It roared to life beneath Gwyn and she felt a rumble of adrenaline flow through her.

Gwyn knew that Azriel was meticulous in almost everything he did in life and riding a motorcycle was no exception. He rode steadily and smoothly, and it felt both freeing and intimate being on the bike with him. The wind whipped around them as they rode down the road, the strum of a powerful engine between their legs. Her hands had nowhere to go except to his abs and she could feel every hard ridge and dip on his well-muscled midriff through the thin fabric of his shirt. Every so often he would reach back with his left hand and caress her knee and thigh. She ran her hands over his shoulders and along his obliques in kind.

After about 30 minutes of cruising around, Azriel pulled over to a shaded spot near the Sidra. It was nearly deserted and they could hear the rushing water of the river in the distance. Azriel turned the bike off, set the kickstand down and turned to Gwyn.

“Fucking Hel, Berdara. You’re killing me,” Azriel gritted out, flipping his visor up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Gwyn …” Azriel put his hands on top of hers to stop their roaming. Her hands had just been under his shirt, idly trailing up his abs and then down, down, down past the waistband of his jeans over his hips. “You don’t want to know the things I want to do to you over this gas tank right now.”

A wicked thrill ran through Gwyn and she pulled her hands from Azriel’s and splayed them over the hard muscle on the tops of his thighs, moving them forward and squeezing so her nails dragged slowly along his inner thighs.

Azriel jerked and grabbed her hands, setting them firmly on his chest over his clothes and holding them there. Gwyn couldn’t tell if he could hear her giggling under her helmet.

“Fucking behave,” Azriel growled. “Or I’ll make you regret it later.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Does anyone else realize what a gods damn menace you are?”

“They’ll never believe you.”

Gwyn could only see Azriel’s eyes under his helmet but she could already feel his trademark smirk. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you. Tell me, is it me that’s turning you on or the bike?”

A noncommittally hum was her response, then a playful tap of her helmeted head against his.

Azriel turned back around and flipped his visor back down. She could have sworn he muttered something about her being the death of him as he started his bike again.

They rode to the Rainbow, the popular arts district, without further ‘mishap,’ to Gwyn’s chagrin. Then parked and strolled around to check out some local galleries and artisan shops. Grabbed a late lunch at Suriel’s Tea Shop and then visited the infamous Bryaxis Books, named after the owner’s ancient misanthrope of a black cat. Despite seeing at least half a dozen titles there she wanted to bring home, Gwyn kept her hands to herself. The downside of riding a motorcycle was that there was nowhere to put anything.

“We’ll drive here next time,” Azriel promised her. Gwyn’s heart might have stuttered.

Gwyn had enjoyed herself a lot more than she thought she would have. She and Azriel had always gotten along amicably as the friends of, but little did she realize until after they put their animosity aside how compatible they were. Their banter and conversation flowed smoothly, despite both of them generally being more introverted personalities. And his deadpan humor was sharp. Gwyn had always known Azriel to be smart, but smart and funny? Add to that his riding a motorcycle (of which she was now very much a fan) and looking like the dictionary definition of ‘gorgeous male,’ Gwyn knew deep down she was in trouble.

After the Rainbow, they decided to go for another ride even as clouds were coming in over the mountains. Gwyn’s ass was also numb and her back was starting to hurt, but she wouldn’t have traded this for anything.

Azriel meandered, taking the long, windy way back to their part of Velaris, but their lazy sojourn was soon interrupted by fat drops of rain that started hitting their visors. He tapped Gwyn’s thigh for her to hold on as he sped up a bit, but there was nothing they could do to avoid the downpour that soon enveloped them.

It felt like an eternity later when the unlucky couple finally pulled into a covered parking structure. Azriel parked the bike and they both climbed off, soaked to the bone.

Azriel helped Gwyn undo her chin strap and remove her helmet. “I’m sooo sorry. The weather forecast said it was going to be clear all day.”

Gwyn tried to wring out her tangled hair. She looked around. “Are we at Cassian’s?”

“Kind of. I live in the same building, remember,” Azriel answered. “I was trying to make it back to your apartment, but the rain doesn’t look like it’s going to let up any time soon and my place was closer. Sorry for the unplanned detour.”

“No, it’s totally fine, I’m just glad to be inside.” Gwyn shivered as the cold started hitting her.

“You’re freezing, Berdara – come on, we’ll get dried off and you can borrow something to wear and I can drive you home in a bit.” Azriel led her to the nearby elevator.

A few minutes, as Azriel held his door open for her to enter, Gwyn realized she had never seen his place before. They had only ever seen each other out or at Cassian’s. Azriel’s apartment might not have been the penthouse unit, but it was still massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city and the mountains in the distance. It was modern and moody, with dark walls and expensive-looking furniture.

“Rhys’ cousin, Mor, decorated the place. I don’t really have an eye for that kind of stuff.”

“It’s … sleek.”

“Mor called it ‘masculine minimalism.’”

“I can see it.” Gwyn’s eye roamed from the rich leather of his dark couches to the massive flat screen in his living room to the giant granite expanse of his kitchen island in the open floor plan.

“Sorry, I don’t usually have people over …”

Gwyn couldn’t help herself. “Not even your –”

“No, never here.”

“Oh.” Gwyn chided herself mentally for even bringing it up. But now she knew she had entered unknown territory with Azriel. This was her first time in his personal space, and she was potentially the first date he had ever invited in. The live wire feeling returned to her skin, enhanced by the proximity to the source of her titillation. Gwyn shivered again.

Azriel had taken his jacket off by that point and slung it over a dining chair. His henley and jeans were sticking to his tall frame. He helped Gwyn shrug off her moto jacket to put over another chair and turned back around to her. And froze.

Gwyn had thought the leather jacket would have kept her ivory top fairly dry. The off-shoulder top she had made decision not to wear a bra under because she hadn’t wanted the straps to show. The ivory top whose entire front was drenched and practically sheer. And she was very, very cold.

She saw Azriel’s throat work as he swallowed hard, eyes glued on her. Gwyn stared back, knowing that she should have felt embarrassed about the situation, she should have covered herself, she should have apologized. Gwyn opted to do none of the above and instead stalked towards Azriel.

And as soon as soon as she was within his reach and tilted up her head, he descended upon her, arms wrapping around her waist and lips falling over hers. There were no cloying, gentle kisses this time. They were almost clumsy in their want, teeth clicking and tongues hot as they pressed their mouths bruisingly against each other.

“I’m f-freezing, I need to take this off,” Gwyn gasped, tugging at her shirt. Azriel helped her pull the thin silk over her head before pressing her to him again. She jolted at the feel of his wet top against her bare chest, protesting against his lips as she clutched at his henley. “This needs to go too.”

Azriel pulled back, breathing heavily. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I want it off.”

In one fluid motion Azriel rid himself of his shirt and stood before her, the dark swirls of his tattoos fully visible as they flowed across his broad shoulders and defined chest. He leaned back into Gwyn and the sudden sensation of his bare skin pressing against her pebbled nipples was enough to elicit a shaky moan from her. Which Azriel greedily swallowed as he slanted his mouth back over hers.

Without breaking their kiss, Azriel gripped her under each thigh and pulled her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He walked them to his bedroom, carrying Gwyn as if she weighed nothing. And gently set her down at the edge of the bed where he kneeled in front of her and proceeded to unlace and remove her boots and socks. Looking at Gwyn with darkened eyes, Azriel unbuttoned her jeans, gripped the waistband and pulled them slowly down her body. They were both shaking, but not from the cold.

“You’re beautiful,” Azriel whispered reverently as his warm hands caressed their way up her bare legs. She was only left in a pair of blue lace panties. “I’ve wanted this for weeks. Wanted you.”

Gwyn’s skin prickled as Azriel’s hands made their way over her hips, waist and up, cupping and kneading her breasts. He leaned into her from his kneeling position, flicking his tongue from one peaked nipple to the other.

“I’ve wanted to do this since you got on my bike,” Azriel breathed onto her chest, one hand splayed across her lower back to keep her upright, the other holding a breast close to his mouth. “You almost fucking killed me with your teasing earlier today.” He bit down on her nipple, making Gwyn cry out and grip his hair. “I owe you.”

Azriel rose from his knees and prowled over Gwyn, making her shuffle back until she was laying in the center of his bed. His king-size bed with the crispest, whitest sheets she’s ever seen. They were about to make a mess of them.

He settled on the bed between Gwyn’s legs, holding himself up with his arms on either side of her. Which gave Gwyn the perfect opportunity to look down and see the clear hard outline of him through his damp jeans. Gwyn felt her mouth start to water as she reached for Azriel’s waistband and managed to undo the top button before he grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her hands away.

“I said the day is yours. And I owe you for the bike ride.”

Gwyn’s hands ended up on either side of her head as Azriel gripped them and lowered himself over her body. He kissed her deeply once, twice, before moving along her jaw, down her neck. She loved the feel of the weight of him on top of her, and lower … where her legs were parted and the thick length of him was now pressed against her inner thigh. Gwyn squirmed slightly and her core was beginning to throb with want. She was sure her panties were soaked through.

Azriel sucked her nipples into his mouth one at a time and rolled his tongue over them, making her back arch off the bed. He made little nips over her breasts before laving his tongue over them to soothe her flushed chest. He let her wrists go as he traveled lower, dipping his tongue into her belly button and then running his nose along the edge of her panties. As Azriel trailed his hands up her inner thighs, Gwyn could feel herself quivering, could feel the press of need building in her lower belly. He ran one thumb right up her covered center and inhaled sharply while Gwyn’s hips canted into his hand.

“So fucking wet for me.” Azriel leaned in and exhaled hotly over her. Pressed a kiss to her mound as his thumb ran over her center again. Gwyn made a strangled noise at the sensation. “Will you let me taste you?”

“Gods, yes.”

She thought he mumbled out a ‘fuck yes’ but nothing else really registered in her brain except for the feel of her sticky panties being pulled off of her and Azriel spreading her thighs open with his hands before lifting her hips closer to his face. And then that hot wet tongue of his licking a stripe right up her center to her clit. Gwyn moaned, grabbing at her breasts while Azriel parted her lips and dove his tongue into her pussy.

“You look fucking divine. You taste fucking divine.” He rasped out as he devoured her and lapped up every bit of slickness that came out of her.

Gwyn’s breathing was ragged while Azriel was insatiable, spreading open her lips with his fingers so he could dip further into her. If this was what being ravaged was, then that’s what she wanted, always. It was only afternoon and she was fully nude and splayed out across a handsome male’s bed while he was still dressed and paying homage to her, making her writhe on his expensive white sheets.

“More,” she moaned, feeling her inner walls fluttering as Azriel’s talented mouth sucked and flicked at her swollen clit.

“Driving me crazy … can feel how much you want me … perfect little pussy …” It was like he was drunk on her, mumbling almost incoherently to himself. When he plunged two fingers into her, Gwyn cried out and thrusted her hips off the bed so far that he had to splay his free hand over her stomach to keep her still.

She felt herself fluttering around his fingers immediately as he moved them within her, making no attempt to hide the sounds of her pleasure. He was groaning in response, as if he was wringing out as much satisfaction as she was. His tongue on her clit, his fingers curling inside of her.

“Gods, Azriel, I –” Gwyn couldn’t hear anything else over the slick, squelching noises his fingers made as they thrust in and out of her, coated in her arousal. The warm pressure low in her abdomen was coiling tightly as she felt her release approaching.

“I want you to cum for me, Gwyn,” Azriel commanded silkily and it only took a few more laps of his tongue in her before she threw back her head and tensed as the dam of pleasure within her burst, sending her pulsing and spasming around his fingers. Azriel’s eyes were nearly black, focused wholly on the sight of her climaxing.

“Fucking beautiful,” he whispered as he slowly pulled his fingers out and pressed soft, soothing kisses on her clit and lips, tongue flicking out with gentle licks in her still-twitching pussy. Gwyn was so sensitive and limp from pleasure that she came again weakly, whimpering softly.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he said quietly as he crawled beside her and pulled her into him, wrapping his corded arms around her. They kissed each other lazily, Gwyn tasting herself all over Azriel’s tongue, lips, chin. They might even have dozed off like that, waking finally when the sky was a darker shade of grey. It was still steadily raining.

Azriel gave Gwyn his Velaris University tee and pair of soft shorts to wear. He changed into a grey tee and black sweatpants. They decided to order pizza and watch a movie while they waited out the rain – it seemed as good an excuse as any to Gwyn to prolong their date.

Half-way through the second movie Gwyn dozed off again. And when she woke up, she found herself back in Azriel’s bed, this time under the covers. He was within arm’s reach, turned towards her as he slept. He looked so boyish then, face smooth and brow unfurrowed. This was the man he was usually too guarded to let others see, the one behind the façade of the unfeeling playboy executive. Gwyn shifted and Azriel reached out an arm to pull her closer to him, his lips pressed against her forehead as he sighed softly. She closed her eyes.

It was the feeling of stubby hair brushing across her face that woke her up again. Gwyn blinked awake and was met with a close-up view of the most beautifully warm green-ringed amber eyes she ever saw. She smiled as Azriel nuzzled against her again.

“Is this still part of our date?” Gwyn asked sleepily.

“This whole weekend can be our date.” He was already wide awake, sitting on the bed.

“Hm …” she stretched her arms over her head and rolled her neck. “Has it been raining all this time?”

“On and off all morning.” He passed her a steaming mug of coffee. “How did you sleep?”

She accepted it gratefully, taking a small sip. “Through the night, which I normally never do.”

“Same.”

Gwyn grinned and ran a hand up to her hair – and realized what a tangled mess it was. “Would you mind if I took a shower here?”

“Of course. I already have extra towels in there. And use whatever products you like.”

She looked at Azriel gratefully and leaned over to him a peck on the cheek as she got out of bed. “Um, would you like to join me?”

“I would,” Azriel answered slowly, eyes never leaving hers. “But you know what’s going to happen if I do, and I want something to look forward to next time.”

For some reason that response made Gwyn’s insides flip more so than if he had just readily agreed and followed after her.

Gwyn luxuriated in Azriel’s massive shower, sniffing through his expensive skin and haircare products. She came out towel-drying her hair to find that he had laid out a fresh tee for her, which resulted in her giving him another sweet peck to his cheek before Azriel went to in wash up.

Gwyn was clad in his oversized VU Lacrosse tee, perusing her phone on his bed, when Azriel came out of his bathroom with only a towel around his waist. She couldn’t help but to look him over appreciatively.

“My eyes are up here, Berdara.”

Gwyn huffed a laughed, pink flushing across her cheeks. “Do you know we’ve known each other for two years? And done a shit job of getting to know each other. Until recently.”

“Believe me, I’ve wanted to, but I didn’t think you were interested. You were always busy with some boyfriend or the other. Like that guy, Bert –”

“Balthazar,” Gwyn corrected.

“– and that old man, Daglon –”

“Devlon,” she amended with an eyeroll.

“– the weird military guy that worked for Feyre’s old boyfriend, Bran –”

“Bron.” Gwyn groaned out. “Have you always been this obnoxious?”

“It’s my job to know things.”

“For work. I hadn’t realized you kept such sneaky-ass tabs on me.”

“I keep tabs on all the people I care about.”

Gwyn’s cheeks pinked again at the comment, but she couldn’t help but to continue to tease him. “Congrats then, you’ve officially earned yourself the nickname of Spymaster of the Night Corp.”

“That title sounds so stupid.”

Gwyn’s laughter was interrupted by a faint knocking at the front door.

Azriel, still in his towel, shrugged. “I don’t know, I wasn’t expecting anyone. I just know it’s not Cassian because he usually just tries to beat the door down.”

“I’ll go get it, you’re still indecent, sir,” Gwyn volunteered, receiving a playful swat on her ass on her way past him.

Gwyn padded through the living room in bare feet wearing only Azriel’s oversized tee, not a stitch of makeup on her face and long hair still wet. And didn’t think much about any of it as she swung open the front door.

Standing there, looking resplendent in a lavender sweater dress with her golden-brown hair falling in soft curls over her shoulder, was Elain Archeron. Her expectant doe eyes fell at the sight of Gwyn but was quickly masked over by a bright smile.

“Gwyn! I was not expecting you here.”

“Oh. Elain. Hello.”

“Is Azriel here?”

“He’s in the bedroom,” Gwyn responded neutrally. She probably should have greeted Elain more warmly. Asked if she needed help with the containers she was holding. Stepped aside and welcomed her in. Maybe offered her a coffee and a comfy chair while they waited for Azriel.

Instead Gwyn stood rigidly in the middle of the doorway essentially blocking Elain’s entry into an apartment she probably had more right to be in than her.

“Well I was just upstairs with Nesta and Cassian and usually after I see them, I stop by and pay Az a visit. I made his favorite blueberry muffins; he was begging for some last time. If I had known you’d be here, I would have brought more, sorry.” Elain was carrying a lidded glass container with at least half a dozen muffins in it.

Gwyn’s stony silence was her only response as she finally stepped away from the entry and Elain breezed inside, a beautiful scent of jasmine and honey trailing behind her.

Elain went directly to the kitchen and opened the cupboard to the left of the stove, taking down a few plates. Then reached into another cupboard by the sink and took out two mugs before pressing the button to grind fresh beans in his fancy espresso-maker. Like it was her apartment. Like Gwyn wasn’t standing in the middle of Azriel’s living room wearing his shirt.

“Hey, who was that at the door –”

“Elain’s here,” Gwyn spat the words out as she stormed back into the bedroom where Azriel was still getting dressed. She grabbed her jeans off the floor and started putting them on.

“What?” Azriel’s eyes went wide.

“I guess you two have a standing date or something. I’ll get out of your way. I’m sorry my time with you had run long.” She wrenched her boots onto her feet and yanked at her laces.

“Gwyn, wait, no, that’s not –”

“Fucking save it.”

Gwyn stormed back into the living room and snatched her jacket off the chair, rushing past a wide-eyed Elain.

“He's all yours.”

She all but hissed out the words right before she fled, slamming the door to his apartment. Right in Azriel’s face. And headed straight for the stairwell to avoid the humiliation of being caught waiting for the elevator while the tears threatened to fall from her eyes. By the time she made it to the lobby, she was breathless and panicked. Gwyn sprinted outside, lungs burning, forcing her legs to move. And then stood shivering in the downpour on a corner two blocks away while waiting for her Uber. Soul cleaved, she felt numb at that point and couldn’t tell whether the droplets falling down her face were from the rain or her own tears.

Chapter Text

Azrie

“Elain’s here.”

Azriel was half-way through buttoning his shirt when Gwyn stormed back into the bedroom, the lightness from mere moments gone. Her face was impassive, and eyes focused intently on anything but him as she swiped her jeans off the floor and started putting them on.

“What?” Azriel turned to Gwyn in bewilderment.

“I guess you two have a standing date or something. I’ll get out of your way. I’m sorry my time with you had run long,” Gwyn snapped as she wretched her boots onto her feet, yanking at her laces.

Azriel reached out to her. His heart was suddenly in his throat. “Gwyn, wait, no, that’s not –”

“Fucking save it,” Gwyn snarled out, a storm brewing in her eyes. She turned away too quickly for Azriel to stop her, to take a breath, or to even get his mind fully wrapped around what was going on. He trailed Gwyn out into the living room and could only watch as she snatched her jacket off the dining chair and brushed past a wide-eyed Elain.

“He’s all yours,” she spat the words at Elain before leaving, promptly slamming the front door in his face.

Azriel’s eyes snapped to Elain’s. “What the fuck just happened? What are you doing here?”

She blinked back in surprise. “I came over to bring you some muffins. I had no idea – you never – are you and her –”

Azriel was barefoot, wearing only a button-down and jeans, but he jerked his door open and dashed out before Elain could finish speaking. He thundered down the hall to the elevator, pacing and cussing to himself while he waited. The elevator car was thankfully unoccupied but to the ride down felt like it moved at a glacial pace. He dashed through the lobby and ran outside, feet splashing through the puddles as he desperately searched for any sign of auburn hair. Then doubled back through the parking level, Gwyn’s name reverberating off the concrete walls as he called out for her. Nothing. No one.

He marched back to his apartment, defeated and soaked through. Azriel swore loudly as he slammed his door. Elain was still there and jumped at the sound. She was standing over two plates of muffins and coffee on his dining table.

“Were you just outside? You’re soaked, let me just …” Elain grabbed a kitchen towel and offered it to Azriel.

“Don’t. It’s fine,” he gritted out, looking around for his phone.

“I went to see Nesta and Cassian earlier, so I thought I would stop by and see how you were doing. Plus, I made these, they’re blueberry, your favorite,” she offered with a soft smile, gesturing to the plates.

“Isn’t it a little early to just be ‘stopping by?’” Azriel asked brusquely as he dialed Gwyn on his phone. It went to voicemail. He redialed. Again. And again.

“I wanted to bring them while they were still warm.”

“Elain, I couldn’t really give two shits about muffins right now,” Azriel interrupted firmly. He clenched and unclenched his jaw, trying to reign in his irritation. Elain had always been the most thoughtful and considerate of the Archeron sisters, always so kind to him and his family. She didn’t deserve to be the outlet for his frustration. But … “I’m sorry. That was … very nice of you. But I’m not Nesta or Cassian. You can’t just come over whenever you feel like it.”

Azriel didn’t want to do this right now. Not when there was only one thing, one person, on his mind. One person that would still be standing in front of him if Elain had not knocked on his door moments earlier.

Gwyn Berdara managed to render him mute the first time that Nesta brought her to training two years ago with her startling looks - tall and lithe, with copper brown hair that shone like fire in the sun, smooth porcelain skin smattered with freckles, and eyes a dazzling mix of blue and green. Azriel never thought he had a type until she walked into his life.

But it was when she set her brilliant smile in his direction that he really felt stunned. Gwyn was quick and always managed to catch him off-guard one way or another. Sometimes it was with her melodic laugh that was as beautiful as it was infectious. Other times it was her biting irreverence, or her encyclopedic repository of a brain that seemed to know and process almost everything immediately.

And he was not the only one who have noticed. Gwyn attracted men to her like a moth to a flame, though she never seemed to realize it. For two years he watched her have her pick of beaus, and Azriel had not once acted because he knew that someone like him would never have been able to hold her interest. And just when he dared to hope ...

He started to text.

Azriel: Gwyn, where are you

Azriel: I need to talk to you

Azriel: Call me

Azriel: Please

Azriel turned to Elain, who had been quietly gathering up the glasses and plates that he and Gwyn had left on the coffee table and kitchen counter from the night before. “Elaine, please stop. You don’t have to do that. Seriously.”

“I didn’t mean to disturb you. I wouldn’t have come if I had known you had someone – her – over.”

“Gwyn.”

“I – yes, Gwyn.”

“I didn’t just have her over. We spent the day together. We came here when it started raining. We watched some movies,” he said absent-mindedly, trying her number again.

Azriel’s expression was stony, but his mind was racing. He considered briefly calling Cassian or even Nesta but neither he nor Gwyn had made any mention of their growing closeness to their friends. If he told Cassian what happened, then Nesta would know immediately. If Nesta knew, he would be murdered first, questioned later. And Emerie would help to bury his body.

“That sounds really lovely.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t want to have this conversation now, he didn’t want to have any conversation right now, unless it was with Gwyn.

“It also sounds a lot like a date.”

“It was.”

“I thought you didn’t date.”

Azriel sighed. “I don’t.”

“And you had her over. I didn’t think you ever brought anyone over, much less spend the night with them,” Elain said lightly, wiping the counter.

“You’re right.” Azriel put his phone down.

“She must be special to you then. For you to have done all that with her.”

Azriel paused, considered. “She is.”

Elain nodded, then picked up his car keys and held them out to him. “What are you still doing here then?”

Chapter Text

Gwyn

Gwyn took the most expensive Uber ride of her life out of Velaris into the Illyrian Mountains. She stared blankly out the car window as the city blocks transitioned to single-family homes and then to a windy two-lane road up the mountains. The rain had finally stopped. She sat in complete silence for over an hour until she got to the popular town of Windhaven and her car stopped at a small storefront with a bright yellow striped awning.

Before she made it across the sidewalk, the shop door swung open and Gwyn was immediately enveloped in a tight embrace. She was too numb to return the hug, but she finally let her shoulders sag in relief as she felt the warmth of Emerie surround her.

“Good gods, Gwyn, you’re freezing.” Emerie rubbed Gwyn’s arms up and down. She was still damp and chilled from standing in the rain even though her driver had been nice enough to turn the heat on for her. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

When Emerie answered her phone earlier that morning, all Gwyn had been able to say was that something happened, she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet and she didn’t want to go home. Emerie didn’t balk, just told Gwyn to come to Windhaven and even offered to get her.

And now Gwyn was bundled in some of Emerie’s sweats sipping her second mug of hot tea. Emerie had ordered her to take a hot shower and then braided her hair to keep it off her face. They sat on the couch with some reality TV on low in the background. Gwyn could not have been more grateful for her friend, though she didn’t have the words at the time to express it. Emerie offered her warmth and compassion and did not pepper her with questions, did not try to fill the silence with chatter. They knew each other well enough to know that Gwyn would talk when she was ready.

Her phone remained off and untouched in the pocket of her jacket. She didn’t dare look at it.

She didn’t know if Emerie had mentioned anything to Nesta, didn’t ask. She’d deal with any repercussions later.

Gwyn didn’t go home that day. She spent the night on Emerie’s couch, alternating between fitful sleep and mindlessly skimming through some murder mystery novels (no fucking romance). The next morning, she called in sick to Merrill and didn’t go into work – the first time she had ever done that at Night Corp.

By noon, Gwyn’s hurt had developed into embarrassment over her own naivete. What had she expected? She thought she had made it obvious that she didn’t want to be a one-night stand but all it took was a fast bike and easy smile before she was throwing herself at him. And did she really think that she could have hoped to hold a candle to the beautiful middle Archeron sister?

By that afternoon the embarrassment had evolved into something closer to anger. Why was she running, hiding, from her own life when she did nothing wrong? She had spent a perfectly lovely day and had a perfectly lovely orgasm from a perfectly handsome man. And that was all that was. And now they would go on their individual ways and he’ll be perfectly fine with it, so shouldn’t she?

They just needed to get through two more weekends of wedding activities and then she and Azriel could relegate themselves to being acquaintances once again.

Emerie drove Gwyn back home that evening. She left her with a grateful hug and promise to talk to Nesta.

When she walked into her apartment, she found a folded note that had been slid under her door. From Azriel. She dropped it (unread) into the trash.

She went to the office early the next day, early enough that she did not see a certain black Mercedes parked in one of the executive spots yet, and exiled herself to the archives level under strict orders to not be disturbed.

Gwyn was at a table in the furthest corner of the archives, going through centuries-old manuscripts, on a wild goose chase of a project that she specifically asked Merrill to put her on. It meant hours, if not potentially days, of sorting through the oldest – and mustiest – files, but it also meant time sequestered away in the authorized access only levels of Night Corp. It was as far away from everyone else at work that she could get.

A light cough cut through the quiet of the room.

Standing at the doorway was a familiar figure. Outfitted in another beautiful dress, this time muted green with gently puffed shoulders, while her golden-brown curls were pulled away from her face. And looking completely out of place in the dark, stuffy room.

“Oh. Hi.” Gwyn was surprised. She had never seen Elain at Night Corp. before, much less in the lower levels.

“Hello, Gwyn,” Elain greeted in return with a placid smile. “I hope I am not disturbing you?”

“No, it’s fine.” Gwyn stood up from her table and removed the gloves she wore for handling the older manuscripts. “How did you know where to find me?”

“I asked Merrill,” Elain answered, a small mischievous grin appearing on her face. “I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”

“You would have to be to get anything out of Merrill.”

Elain looked to Gwyn’s table, piled high with boxes and books. “Could we talk?”

“Okay.”

Gwyn pointed to the chair across from hers and cleared some of the boxes out of the way. Elain took the seat, and they regarded each other in awkward silence. Gwyn didn’t offer anything and sure wasn’t planning to speak first, it was Elain who sought her out after all.

“Az has been trying to talk to you,” Elain started, using Azriel’s nickname in such a casual, easy way that it made Gwyn bristle immediately.

“I don’t know why he would want to, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“You’ve been avoiding him.”

“Well, you’re as observant as you are persuasive,” Gwyn retorted, her anger blooming. She tried to tamp it down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean – I’m not – actually, I am upset with you. At Azriel’s apartment – you showed up like you owned the place. Like I was the one intruding. And whether you meant to or not, you made me feel like shit.”

“You have every right to be upset with me,” Elain acquiesced. “When I saw you there that morning, I was surprised. I wasn’t very nice to you, and I had no right to be. For that, I’m sorry.”

Gwyn had not expected an apology so quickly. Frankly, she had not expected one at all. Her anger waned immediately, but she didn’t quite know how to respond back to the middle Archeron sister.

Elain held up a small hand to Gwyn. “You know that I’ve been seeing Lucien Vanserra for a while now, right?”

Gwyn shrugged indifferently. “Only what I’ve been told – that you two are off and on.”

“Things with Lucien are … complicated. On account of how close he is to Feyre and who his family is. Feyre introduced us – and she was so enthusiastic about us getting together. But with Lucien’s career, he’s gone a lot. And Lucien’s family runs Autumn Corp., and they would like nothing more than to be aligned with Rhys’ company. There were so many outside forces that wanted us together that sometimes I feel like I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

Gwyn could not help but to listen sincerely. “Do you not want to be with him?”

“I think I do. Most of the time I do. He’s a good man. And been very patient with me as I work through things.” Elain’s eyes took on a faraway quality, like she was picturing Lucien before her. “I just wish that us getting together had really been more on our own terms.”

“But if you really want to be with each other, does it matter how you got together as long as you two are?” Gwyn offered. “As long as you guys have been upfront with each other and want the same things?”

“Az says the same thing.”

Gwyn quieted.

“Az has been – is – kind. This whole time to me. After everything that happened with my family and the move here. After Lucien. Didn’t judge, didn’t push. It was so nice.” Elain’s brows knitted together as she looked to Gwyn. “And after Feyre married Rhys and Nes found Cassian, we kind of third-wheeled together. He’s been a very good friend. And since he hasn’t really been in a relationship, I guess I got used to having him for myself. Until you.”

“We’re not in a relationship.”

“Not yet.”

Gwyn shook her head. “No, we were just – it was a one-time thing.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth as she said them. “I’m not here to stand in your way, Elain.”

“Stand in my way?”

“You – and Azriel.”

Elain’s beautiful face grimaced briefly. “There was a time that I might have felt a certain way for him, but we’ve never … no. Az and I are close but we’re not anything. Though I admit that I may have been getting too comfortable with him and been overstepping.” Her wide brown eyes looked right at Gwyn. “I’m with Lucien. Despite how complex things may be around us, I’m with him.”

She realized she had had things wrong. At least half wrong. Elain had always just been her sweet, nurturing self. It made sense that Azriel would find himself drawn to her beauty and gentle nature despite her connection with the youngest Vanserra son. Everyone else had just been a distraction because he could not have her.

Gwyn caught Elain observing her as she continued. “After you left, he was frantic. He went looking for you. He went to your apartment and waited all day for you. Don’t misunderstand. He likes you, Gwyn.”

“I don’t think –”

“I haven’t seen him like this with anyone else. He’s different with you and that means something. That’s why I’m here; I wanted to try to make up for the way I behaved on Sunday to you both.” Elain reached across the table and laid light fingers over Gwyn’s hands. “What you decide is up to you, but I hope you go see him, talk with him.”

Gwyn started to feel a lightening of the weight on her chest, though her heart was still lodged in her throat. “You’re right. I do owe it to Azriel to talk to him. I’ve been …” she sighed heavily. “I appreciate what you’ve told me, Elain, and for coming this way.”

They chatted for a few more minutes before they saw Merrill stare them down as she walked past the authorized access only section. With a quiet smile, Elain took that as her cue to depart with a promise to visit Gwyn again soon – and to expect her own batch of muffins. 

Gwyn put her gloves back on and opened another handwritten ledger to review. Though she stared so long at the first page that the black swoops and loops of script turned themselves into bold swirls of Illyrian tattoos before her eyes. She put her face in her hands, inhaling and exhaling deeply. The ball was firmly in her court now. Azriel had tried to see her, tried to explain, but she had dodged him again and again. She needed to be the one to go to him now and hope that he was still open to her.

Swallowing down her heartbeat, Gwyn did the only thing that made sense at the time and sent Azriel an Outlook meeting request.

And then purposefully left her phone face down on her desk immediately after hitting ‘send,’ physically fleeing as far from her phone’s presence as possible. And then …

“Gwyneth Berdara!”

Gwyn cringed at the sound, cussing at herself for thinking it was safe to grab a snack at the bakery across the street from the office. She turned to find Nesta stalking towards her, stilettos clacking loudly against the pavement.

“What happened to you? I was about to call Velaris PD on you.” Nesta stopped right in front of her, eyes glowing silver in the sun. “I had to hear from Emerie that you were up in Windhaven and skipped out on work? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Everything’s fine,” Gwyn appeased. “You’ve got enough on your plate.”

“Gwyn, you know I would drop everything for you.” Nesta snatched Gwyn’s coffee and took a long sip. “Is this about Az?”

Gwyn swallowed as she took back her cup. “Why would you say that?”

“When I got home the other night, I found him parked outside your door. Being broody and uncommunicative as usual. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, really, there’s just been a misunderstanding.” That was the wrong thing to say to Nesta.

“Between you and Az?” Her eyes narrowed. “What did he do?”

“No, it’s nothing like that, seriously,” Gwyn explained. “He and I just need to talk about some things. It’s fine.”

“It's not fine, but I will give you time to do whatever it is you need to do. And then I will go maiming and bring you back a souvenir should you ask.” Nesta enveloped Gwyn in a big hug. Gwyn might have been the taller one, but Nesta always hugged those she loved like she wanted to squeeze the hurt out of them.

“Words like that remind me what a lucky man Cassian is,” Gwyn wheezed out, pulling away.

“You know it.” Nesta smirked, peeking into Gwyn’s pastry bag. “You’ll come talk to me, later? After you’ve settled whatever ‘this’ is between you two?”

Gwyn sighed and reached into her bag to hand Nesta a lemon cookie. “Yes, I promise.”

By the end of the day, Gwyn considered herself lucky for having survived Merrill, a surprise visit from Elain and the scrutiny of Nesta. All that was left was …

She had sent him a meeting request for seven at her place. She rushed home 30 minutes early, thinking she had some time to tidy and freshen up, but a tall shadow was already looming by her front door.

She had never seen Azriel less than perfectly put-together before, but there he was, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. His slim dark suit was rumpled, white collared shirt open, tie hanging loose. He gripped his bike helmet in one hand with his riding gloves shoved into them and was running his other hand through his obsidian locks. His light eyes were unfathomable, but he seemed more nervous and not angry like she expected him to be.

Gwyn fumbled for her keys as she tried to juggle her tote, coffee tumbler, phone and bags of takeout.

He sprung forward to help her with her bags, but she still managed to drop her keys and phone.

“I’m such a klutz –” she started, as the same time as Azriel said, “Let me help you –”

They smiled awkwardly at each other as they got back up and Gwyn opened her front door. Suddenly she felt too shy to meet his gaze.

“I guess you got my meeting request.”

“I did.” Azriel followed her quietly into her apartment, setting the takeout bags on the kitchen table.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to come,” Gwyn said lightly as she put down her tote. “You never responded to my invite, even though I could tell that you opened it.”

Azriel’s lips quirked.

“You’re early, by the way. I’m not even prepared yet.”

“Shall I go back outside and wait?”

“No, I’m sure my neighbors have probably had enough of your lurking by now.”

Azriel huffed a laugh.

“Have a seat. I just need to freshen up.” Gwyn went into her bedroom, leaving her door ajar so they could continue to talk. “You look like you need a refresher too.”

“This suit is new, Berdara. Though in retrospect, I don’t recommend riding in merino wool.” She could hear him moving around in her kitchen.

“I bet you got a few looks like that.”

“If I did, I hadn’t noticed, I was too busy freezing my ass off.”

Gwyn came back to the kitchen with her hair twisted into a loose bun, white tank with a loose denim shirt over it and black leggings. “Sorry, I had to change. I spent all day in the lowest level of the archives. I think I was the first person there in at least 50 years.”

Azriel had taken off his suit jacket and removed his tie. He had also pulled out all the takeout containers and had the bags neatly folded on the counter. “I wanted to help but didn’t want to presume …”

“Then you already know it’s sushi, so presume away.” Of course Gwyn got sushi because she knew he loved it. She grabbed some plates and motioned for him to sit across from her. Also offered him a glass of wine, but he only took water.

They chatted as they ate, keeping to light, inconsequential things as they both politely avoided addressing the one topic on both their minds. Gwyn felt the words jumbled up on the tip of her tongue and didn’t know how to bridge the gap. They might end up having to verbally battle it out like they did with almost everything else, but that wasn’t what she wanted anymore.

“So, you rode your bike to work today,” Gwyn said, setting down her wine.

“I did.” Azriel reached over with the bottle and refilled her glass.

“You don’t usually do that.”

“No, but I like to ride when I need to clear my head.”

“Ah.” Gwyn pursed her lips.

“You didn’t come home,” Azriel broached the subject lightly.

“No.” That wasn’t a sufficient answer. “I went to Emerie’s.”

“And you didn’t come to work.” He said it like a mere observation.

“No.”

“And then when you did, you were hiding. The entire day.” Azriel’s tone was still even, light. It did not sound like an accusation. Gwyn still pushed her dinner plate away from her nervously.

“I just needed some time to process.”

“You wanted some time to spiral,” he admonished quietly. And Gwyn could not even be upset with him about it. She liked that he didn’t handle her lightly as if she was something delicate, that he was aware enough of her to call her out on her bullshit, but did so kindly. “Are you done?”

She nodded once. “I know you came here, tried to see me.”

“Gwyn, I was worried sick.” She heard the emotion finally crack through Azriel’s impassive front. “I couldn’t get a hold of you, didn’t even know where you went, I couldn’t even talk to Nesta because I wasn’t sure what you may or may not have told her about us –”

“I know. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for pushing you away and running from the situation. I’m sorry for not being willing to hear you out,” she let the words out in a big push of breath.

“I understand. You needed to come back on your own terms.”

Another big breath. “Azriel, I don’t want to run from you anymore.”

“That would be preferred,” he responded, his eyes soft and glowing faintly amber in the late afternoon light. “Where did this change of heart come from though?”

“Elain came to see me.”

“At the office?” He was surprised.

“Yes. She asked me to talk to you, to not run away from this.” Gwyn took a quick sip of her wine. “She was right.”

“She’s a good friend.”

“Is that really all she is to you?” Gwyn asked, trying to sound casual.

“Elain needed as much support as her sisters did after they came to Velaris. But she was scared and quiet and looked over. She just needed someone on her side.”

“And that someone had to be you?” Oh, she could never help herself.

Azriel’s eyes twinkled as he looked at her. “Are you jealous?”

Gwyn could not help the roll of her eyes either. “She’s pretty familiar with your apartment. And your baked goods preferences.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “She’s had her delivery privileges revoked.”

“I should hope so.”

“Gwyn, what I feel for her is in no way similar to what I do for you.” Azriel pushed his own plate away and reached out his hand to tentatively touch hers against her wine glass. “I have liked you from the first time you walked into the gym with Nesta two years ago. I have liked you more and more with each passing day since.”

“You liked me all this time? You’ve barely even spoken to me directly until recently; you’ve been dating half the damn city –”

“I wasn’t dating, I was distracting myself. From you.”

“If you liked me so much why didn’t you just tell me? Or just ask me out? Why keep it from me?” She hooked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Lightly twisted the wine glass on the table with her other hand.

“You were always in one serious relationship or the other. I didn’t feel like I stood a chance. I didn’t have a way to earn my time with you.”

“What do you mean?” Gwyn raised her eyes up to meet his. His handsome face was looking back at her almost imploringly.

“You already know that Rhys and Cassian and I were raised together, that Rhys’ mother took us in. What you don’t know was that it was because my blood family didn’t want me – I was a bastard, and my existence was a daily reminder that my father and his new family didn’t want. My stepbrothers were cruel. The Nights didn’t just take me in, they rescued me from a terrible situation. I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if they hadn’t come along. They helped to give me a semblance of belonging. But because of who I was and who they are, I can never forget that I have to pay a price to belong. To be useful and dutiful. Every day I have to earn the right to have this life.” Azriel’s sharp jaw ticked at the last sentence.

“Azriel, I don’t believe Rhysand thinks you owe him anything to be part of his life. You’re his chosen brother, like Cassian.” Gwyn brushed her fingers lightly over his jaw to soften his face. “But I get it. You don’t realize how much I understand.” Deep breath. She was going to do this.

“During college, Catrin – my sister – and I met a group of guys at a bar. She wanted to go home early but I convinced her to stay. I thought they were … cute. We were with them until the place closed and then when we tried to leave, things got … out of hand. They were really drunk, and we got into a fight and – I lost her and got assaulted on the same night. I couldn’t save her and became a victim.” Gwyn spoke as her eyes unfocused, and she stared off at nothing. She couldn’t bear to look at him while she laid out her truth. She felt him shift though, drawing himself closer to her yet untouching, as if to show support by radiating his warmth.

“I stayed in Sangravah as long as I could after that – there were lawyers, a trial, lots of therapy, and in between that, I somehow managed to finish school and get a job. But when I found out that the guy who – that he was getting out early for –” she swallowed “– good behavior, I packed what I could fit in my car and left in the middle of the night.”

Gwyn finally looked up into Azriel’s eyes, ready to flinch at any sign of his pity, but instead was met with his resolute gaze. His steadiness was a comfort more than anything. “It’s taken me a long time to feel ‘normal’ again. That’s why I am so serious about who I give my time to, why I don’t do casual. I’ve been given this second chance and I need to live it, earn it. For her.”

“And I never thought you could ever want anything from me but casual.” Gwyn’s hands were palm up on the table and it was then that Azriel reached out tentatively and enclosed both her hands into his. “I didn’t think you even liked me.”

“The other women were … meaningless. There was never any consideration beyond one night. Even Elain … she was just someone who needed an ally. But you … I don’t think I could ever do enough, be enough, to earn your time, Gwyn.”

“My time is not earned, Azriel. It is given. Freely.”

Gwyn’s eyes were wide as she stared at him. She was hiding nothing. He gazed back at her with open affection on his face, his eyes searching hers.

“I’m not broken.”

“No.” It came out as a whisper from his lips.

“You’re worthy.”

Azriel swallowed in response.

She got up from the table then, hands still entwined with Azriel’s and led him slowly to her living room couch. They sat down again, this time right next to each other, close enough that the outside of his thigh pressed against hers.

“I’m sorry I was so stupid.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. We needed to have this conversation. You’re …” Azriel’s eyes searched hers. “Stronger than I even realized.”

Gwyn’s brows furrowed. “Don’t you dare –”

“I know. I’m just in awe of you.”

Azriel was staring at her with an intensity that made it impossible for her to not blush, the heat creeping up her neck. Gwyn reached over to brush a stray lock of hair off his brow while her eyes traveled over his face, from the thickness of his dark lashes down the fine line of the ridge of his nose, to soft curve of his lips. She was suddenly overcome with the urge to trace over his cheekbones and along the sharpness of his jaw with her fingers. To follow that with her lips.

“What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours, Berdara?” Azriel murmured teasingly, his head angled towards hers.

“Just trying to not let my intrusive thoughts win.” Gwyn swallowed as her eyes honed in on his mouth, as he lifted one corner of it at the same time that he bit down on his lower lip.

“How’s that going for you?”

“You know exactly how, Singer.” Their foreheads were almost touching at this point as they leaned into each other. Gwyn could feel Azriel’s exhale of air near her mouth. She closed her eyes at the smell of his expensive cologne, the faint wisps of night-chilled mist and cedar. When she felt the light graze of his chin across her jaw, she reached up and grasped his face in her hands, tilting his mouth down over hers.

She poured ever bit of her regret and remorse into that kiss, opening her mouth against his. Azriel’s arms enveloped her, turning her so that one of her legs ended up draped over his while they leaned back into the seat cushions. Gwyn could feel his hand roam, up her thigh and over her ass, gripping firmly. She squirmed in his hold, wanting the feel of more.

Gwyn wrapped one hand around the back of his neck so she could play with his hair. Her other hand traveled over Azriel’s shirt and pulled it out of his pants so she could undo his buttons. She let her thoughts overcome her as she pressed kisses along his jaw, before drawing a sharp wet line down his throat with her tongue.

She heard a deep, low rumble from Azriel as she shifted and moved over him, his head tilted back against the couch so she could have easier access to press wet, sucking kisses over his neck and across his traps as she peeled his shirt off his shoulders.

More. She wanted more today, and a little bit of payback. Gwyn played with the buckle of his belt, undoing it and then the button of his trousers. She watched the quick rise and fall of Azriel’s chest as his wide eyes stared down at her as she pulled down his zipper at the same time that she sank to her knees in front of him.

“Gwyn, you don’t have to –”

“Of course I do, Azriel.” She said his name like a promise. “I owe you.”

Chapter Text

Azriel

Azriel had lived his entire life with the intent to never be beholden to anyone but his chosen brothers, but the prospect of another evening with Gwyn was enough to make him rethink his entire ideology about duty and obligation.

His first time with her had purely been about her satisfaction and comfort. Despite what he instinctively wanted to do, he opted to savor his time with her and wrought as much gratification from pleasing her as if he had found his own release.

And after the chaos that had erupted the following day, little did he think that he would ever again be where he was at that moment, with his auburn-haired siren kneeling between his legs, intent on paying him back.

Gwyn’s teal eyes were wide when he lifted his hips and helped her pull his trousers and briefs down. She ran her hands up his legs, nails dragging along his inner thighs, grazing past his balls. Gwyn’s hair was falling out of her bun, and he felt loose strands brush against his thighs as she leaned into his lap and exhale hotly along his length, making him twitch in anticipation.

His cock was hard, bobbing gently as he leaned back against her couch, breaths deep and slow. He gripped himself and pumped once, twice, watching her stare at his motions like she was mesmerized. Gwyn wrapped a slender, firm hand around the base of his shaft, and he pulled his own hand away as her pink tongue darted out from between her lips and flicked at him, drawing a long, wet line from his base to tip. Azriel tried to swallow down a low growl at the feel of her on him.

Gwyn peered up at him through her lashes as she closed her lips over his head and swirled her tongue, her bright eyes never leaving his as her mouth engulfed his cock. And all Azriel could feel was her wet tongue, the hot suction of her mouth as she hollowed her cheeks, the feeling of him hitting the back of her throat as she swallowed him. Her hands roamed over his thighs, up his obliques, clawing lightly down his chest and abs.

They didn’t exchange words – he was beyond making any sounds except for the soft gasps that morphed into deep, throaty groans as he felt the heat pooling low in his abdomen. Azriel didn’t know what to do with his hands, resisting the urge to grip her hair and thrust up into her mouth. Not this time. Instead, he gripped his thighs, clutched her couch cushions, at one point even latching onto the fabric of her shirt.

She looked up at him so innocently but the way she moved against him made Azriel think that she knew exactly how to elicit the specific reactions she wanted out of him. Especially as she took him again and again deep into her mouth, her eyes watery with her effort, her tongue continuously stroking the sensitive underside of his shaft. Her hand was gripped around the base of his cock, pumping what she couldn’t fit into her mouth.

“Gwyn, I’m going to –” he stuttered out.

He wasn’t going to last long, and he knew Gwyn was well aware of it. She worked him faster, head bobbing, making a low hum in the back of her throat that drove him crazy. Azriel tried to lift her head off him as he got close, but she only grabbed his thighs to brace herself. He felt his cock swell in her mouth and pulse as his body tensed over her in his release. Azriel groaned deeply at the sensation, shuddering in the wake as Gwyn swallowed every bit of him before slowing her motions and then releasing him from her wet, swollen mouth. He reached over and brushed the loose hair from her face.

“Gods, that was – you are –” He had never been a man of many words, but no one had ever left him stumbling for coherence like her.

He pulled Gwyn up onto his lap, keeping her close as he pressed kisses up her neck and behind her ear before covering her lips with his own. His hands trailed up her sides and cupped her breasts over her tank, thumbs brushing across her peaked nipples. She arched into him, biting back a moan, as she placed her hands over his.

“Azriel, please,” she said headily, stopping his hands from moving. “I want you, but … I want something to look forward to next time.”

Next time could not come soon enough.

Unfortunately, next time wasn’t going to come anytime soon, thanks to Nesta and Cassian and all the last-minute activities that their best man and maid of honor had to help with. Azriel and Gwyn managed to see each other fleetingly through the work week, kept a respectful distance from each other at the gym, texted daily. Azriel wasn’t sure what Gwyn may or may not have told her friends, but he had been surprised that no one peppered him with questions yet. Nesta though, seemed to glare at him more than usual.

Nesta and Cassian had thankfully decided to keep their wedding parties small, but Azriel had still conveniently forgotten that Cassian had asked Bert/Bart – yeah, that guy – to be a part of it. He and Cassian had been in the same special forces unit in the military and gotten close. In fact, Cassian was the reason Gwyn and Balthazar had ever gotten together and they had still been dating when Cassian had asked him to be a groomsman months ago. Fortunately, since the breakup Balthazar had been away on assignment these last few months, but now … Azriel groaned at the thought of his presence over the next two weeks.

Rhysand and Feyre had generously volunteered to organize the combined bachelor/bachelorette party, and much like with the wedding shower, it turned into an all-day affair. The ladies convened at Feyre’s for mani-pedis and to get ready. The men met at Cassian’s.

Azriel had rarely seen his brother so amped up and ready for a party; outfitted in jeans, a white button-down and a tan sport coat that Nesta no doubt picked out. Cassian’s dark hair was pulled back into a loose knot and the shit-eating grin had not left his face all afternoon. Azriel was more casually dressed in trim black trousers and a slim-fitting black pullover. His grin had no plans to eat shit that day.

Rhysand showed up first, dressed in a black suit, no tie, carrying a case of whisky from his personal cellars. They cracked into it immediately. Varian and Lucien arrived next, the former surely direct from Amren’s apartment, the latter having just returned from an extended trip to the Continent where he was opening a new restaurant. Helion, head of Summer Corp., also showed up to join in the festivities.

The men were well into their third glasses of whisky when Bert – okay, Balthazar – finally arrived, his normally boyish face bearing a new close-cropped beard. Cassian got up from his seat and embraced the younger man immediately. “Baz! It’s about time you showed up.”

Balthazar greeted everyone warmly and Rhysand handed him a glass of whisky.

“How’s it going?”

“Not bad. I’m looking forward to coming back to Illyria. I miss the mountains.”

“Are you finished with your assignment in Valhallan?” Rhysand asked.

“Soon, just a few more weeks.”

Cassian grinned widely. “Sweet, I look forward to us finally being able to hang out again, brother.”

In the background, Varian pointed between Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel. “I thought only those three got to call each other ‘brother.’”

Lucian appeared nonplussed. “I don’t get to call any of them ‘brother,’ and I’m dating one of the sisters.”

Helion shrugged. “It’s probably an Illyrian thing. They’re likely all related somehow.”

The trio continued to chatter and laugh in the background as Rhysand refilled the glasses for the others.

Balthazar took a sip of whisky and asked casually, “And how are the ladies doing?”

“Are you actually asking about all the ladies or just one in particular?” Cassian teased.

Azriel bristled immediately.

It was widely known that Gwyn broke up with Balthazar months ago and was single. It was not known that she was currently seeing someone, specifically him. They hadn’t discussed what, if anything, they were going to mention to their friends about their ‘situationship.’ Azriel suspected though that between him, Gwyn and alcohol, someone was going to figure something was up that evening.

“I’m just being polite, I haven’t seen any of you in months,” Balthazar defended. “Plus, Gwyn and I ended things on good terms.”

“Alright, but just don’t make it weird tonight,” Cassian advised. “If anyone’s going to ruin my night, it’s going to be me.”

“Spoken like a true future husband to Nesta Archeron. Cheers,” Rhysand toasted.

Rhysand arranged a party bus to take everyone to Sevenda’s where their entire terrace had been reserved to the group for dinner. The weather was perfect, the drinks flowed and when the ladies showed up, every male heart in that building dropped to their stomachs.

They looked stunning. Nesta wore a flippy white dress, and instead of the usual bridal sash or tiara, she had a spiked gold crown on her head. Feyre wore black to match Rhysand and Mor was in her trademark red with a plunging neckline. Amren looked elegant in silver, Emerie purple and Elain was in light pink. Gwyn though … she wore a sapphire blue silk slip dress with a high slit, her auburn hair in loose waves over one shoulder and her lips painted red. Azriel’s hands itched to feel the smooth silk between his fingers.

The ladies obviously had a few drinks while they were getting ready, as evidenced by the pink blush across Gwyn’s face as they all greeted each other. She was easy and comfortable with everyone, except when Balthazar approached her, and they shared an awkward half-hug.

Azriel’s hands lingered on her back when they finally had the chance to greet each other.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured into her hair.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she replied playfully.

“You okay?”

“Better now,” Gwyn grinned at him with a wink. “Save me a dance later?”

“I’ll save all my dances for you, Berdara.”

Dinner was around a massive rectangular table and Nesta motioned for Gwyn to sit next to her, in the free spot between her and Rhysand. Azriel unfortunately ended up near the other end of the table, next to Amren. Amren was typically great company except whenever Varian was around – and he was – so Azriel was stuck talking to the person on the other side of him … Balthazar.

“You and Gwyn seem rather chummy,” Balthazar commented casually to Azriel once everyone’s food arrived.

“Friends are chummy,” he responded carefully, cutting into his fish.

“Mm-hm,” Balthazar nodded, taking a bite of his steak.

“Aw, is Bazzy lonely?” Cassian interjected from across the table. “I think Helion is unattached. And I hear he’s a good time. Right, Mor?”

“Shut it, topknot.” Mor shot Cassian a murderous look before turning back to Emerie with a sweet smile.

“Oh, we’re spicy tonight,” Cassian grinned, working his way through his sixth – or seventh? – drink.

“I mean if you’re more than friends, I wouldn’t blame you,” Balthazar said quietly to Azriel, taking another bite of his dinner. “Gwyn’s a great girl, she deserves something beautiful.”

“She certainly does.”

Balthazar’s next words were a murmur. “And if you hurt her, just remember that I care about her, and I have a very particular set of skills.”

Azriel didn’t try to hide his smirk. This kid. “I think we understand each other perfectly.”

After dinner, a chaotic party bus ride brought everyone to Rita’s where Rhysand had the VIP section blocked off for them and bottle service at the ready. Cassian had lost his sport coat somewhere between dinner and the dance hall. Nesta’s crown was already sitting askew on top of her head. Amren and Varian had disappeared immediately onto the dance floor. Rhysand was carrying Feyre’s shoes, and Feyre was dancing on the booth seats. Helion and Balthazar were engaged in conversation with some of the pretty bottle service girls. Emerie and Mor had sat next to each other at dinner and were now dancing, looking very friendly. Elain had given Gwyn a small smile when she saw her but stayed mostly close to Lucien through the evening. They sat in one of the VIP booths, Lucien playing with Elain’s soft curls as they spoke quietly.

Cassian had his sunglasses on and was singing at the top of his lungs with Nesta on one side of him and Gwyn on the other. Gwyn had a few glasses of wine with dinner – and who knows what before that – and now was sipping from a tall glass of clear liquid over ice that most certainly was not water. Azriel inched closer to the trio.

“Singer! Where have you been!” Gwyn’s melodic voice called out as soon as he approached, a wide toothy smile on her face. She went to him, hips swaying, and threw her free arm around his neck. “Come on, I want to dance.”

Azriel ignored Cassian’s knowing smirk as he let Gwyn lead him off into the throng on the dance floor.

“You look hot tonight, Singer.” Gwyn looked up at him through her lashes as she wrapped her lips around her straw and took a sip of her drink. “You’d look hotter if you lost the shirt.”

“Manners, Berdara,” he admonished teasingly, his hands on her waist. Gwyn’s free hand was running appreciatively over his bicep. “You’re handsy when you drink.”

“I’m only handsy with you.”

“Oh the things I want to do to you with my hands right now ...” Azriel’s large hands traveled down to brush over her ass before moving back up. The silk of her dress was so smooth and thin under his touch. Her backside firm.

“Why don’t you show me, Singer.” Gwyn hooked her finger into Azriel’s waistband and pulled him closer.  

Azriel’s lips ghosted over her ear. “You’re going to kill me on this dance floor, aren’t you?”

“Not in front of our nosy friends,” Gwyn smirked. “They’ll talk for sure.”

“I don’t care if they talk, as long as I have you to myself.” Azriel’s deep voice was husky in her hair.

“You can have me any way you want to yourself,” Gwyn murmured, a wicked twinkle in her eyes.

Azriel sighed heavily as he pressed a kiss to her head. “You truly are going to be the death of me, Berdara.”

Gwyn’s answering smile was all he needed to see.

As the evening wore on, Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel ended up having to ‘rescue’ Feyre, Nesta and Gwyn from dancing on top of the bar with Helion more than once. Cassian ended up with Nesta’s crown and Rhysand was trying to convince him to keep his shirt on, despite his own being near fully open. Feyre had somehow managed to drag Lucien away from Elain and was dancing with him barefoot. Helion had lost his shirt somewhere between his fifth or tenth shot and was letting the waitresses ogle him appreciatively as he flirted right back. Amren, Varian and Elain were giggling over drinks at the booth. Balthazar was talking with a very pretty blonde at the bar. Emerie and Mor – were they still off together somewhere? And Gwyn …

As much as Azriel enjoyed himself in a dance hall, he had never been much of a dancer. But a tipsy Gwyn was also unappeasable unless she was moving her body to the music, so in both of their best interest, he danced with her. Then danced some more. And though he was enjoying the Hel out of it, he was also hard as a rock through his pants. Gwyn was driving him absolutely crazy, and she absolutely knew it. The way she pressed her hips or ass into him had him gritting his teeth, and that gods damn dress was so thin, he could clearly see the way her nipples pebbled through the material. Her skin appeared to glow with a thin sheen of perspiration as she moved, her scent heady. She practically ground into him as they danced, and Azriel felt like he was going to crack his jaw with how hard he was restraining himself.

It was least three in the morning by the time Rhysand and Nesta cajoled what was remaining of the group back onto the party bus. Lucien and Elain had left hours ago. Helion chose to stay at the dance hall. Amren, Varian, Balthazar and a very friendly Mor and Emerie rode back with everyone else but most of them said their goodbyes in the front of the building.

Rhysand, Feyre, Nesta, Cassian, Emerie, Gwyn and Azriel were the only ones that ended up back at Cassian’s penthouse after Rita’s. The mood was still light, but there was only so much adrenaline could do against the effects of copious amounts of alcohol and sheer exhaustion. One-by-one they started drifting off. Emerie stumbled into one of the guest rooms not to be seen again. Feyre was curled up on Rhysand’s lap while he nursed a glass of whisky, the gold crown now sitting on his head. Cassian was fully stretched out on the couch with an arm over his face, Helion’s shirt clutched in his other hand. Azriel was in one of the armchairs and Gwyn had started at the edge of the arm, but now she was fully in the chair with him, leaning heavily, her long legs draped over his. He did not mind it one bit.

Nesta, the only fully sober person in the group, looked over to Gwyn who just grinned very broadly back at her with half-opened eyes.

“Oh gods, she’s drunk. We’ll just put her in one of Cassian’s guest bedrooms and –”

“She can stay with me,” Azriel volunteered quickly. He and Nesta shared a long silent stare across the living room.

Nesta’s eyes never left his when she turned to address Gwyn. “Hey, Gwyn, sweetie, it’s time to go to bed. You’re going to sleep in one of Cass’ guest rooms for the night, okay?”

“Nesta, I said –” but she silenced Azriel with a look that was nearly a snarl.

“I don’t think Gwyn wants –”

“I’m staying with him.” They both looked over to Gwyn, who had her head nestled comfortably in the crook of Azriel’s neck. Her words came out low, but clear.

“She said what she said,” Rhysand spoke up with a cheshire grin. Nesta fumed.

“I will see you first thing in the morning,” she mouthed, standing over Azriel. “If you so much as touch a hair on her head –”

They were interrupted by the sound of Gwyn yawning loudly then snuggling even closer into Azriel as she gripped his arm.

“She’ll be fine, Nes. It’s Azriel,” Rhysand offered.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” was Nesta’s muttered response. But she helped Gwyn to stand up even though she was still intertwined with Azriel and said clearly to her, “Good night, Gwyn. You’re going to go with Az, like you said you wanted. But you can call me if you need anything and I’ll come right away, okay?”

“So loud, Nesta,” Gwyn mumbled, her brow crinkling.

Azriel kept his arm firmly around her as she leaned into him, her legs taking wobbly steps.

“Good night, guys,” Azriel said. “See you in the morning, Nesta.”

“Sweet dreams, Gwyneth,” Rhysand called out.

He could feel Nesta staring daggers into his back as he and Gwyn made their way down the hall. He gave a little wave of his fingers as they waited for the elevator and Gwyn blew Nesta a sloppy kiss. Azriel knew that Nesta would likely have his balls the next day but the urge to take care of Gwyn outweighed everything else. Including Rhysand’s teasing that would surely follow.

Getting Gwyn settled into bed proved to be more difficult than he anticipated, however. She was mostly awake, but tired and very affectionate. All giggles and nuzzling into his neck. Like she was trying to burrow into his pullover kind of affectionate. By the time they made it to Azriel’s apartment, he was practically carrying her. And she was slippery in that silk dress.

She pulled off her shoes as she crawled onto his bed. He helped to remove her hoop earrings and pulled the pins that secured her hair over her shoulder as she settled under the covers. He nestled her in amongst his pillows and sheets, then sat on the bed, watching as she laid there contently with her eyes closed, soft lips parted slightly. He leaned over her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Stay,” she murmured, lashes fluttering against her cheeks. Her hand reached out and grasped his. “Please.”

Azriel’s hand stayed firmly entwined with hers as he settled himself next to her over his sheets, toeing off his shoes. He put his free arm under his head and angled himself towards Gwyn’s prone form so he could be closer. He squeezed her hand gently and replied in a whisper, “Always.”

Chapter Text

Gwyn

Someone was breathing too loudly.

Gwyn tried to open her eyelids but all she saw was white. She tried to yawn but inhaled a mouthful of cloth instead. Tried to lift her head but ended up engulfed. She was tangled in fabric and had to thrash around blindly before she realized she was face first in a sea of white pillows. She finally twisted herself into an upright position with a gasp of breath, eyes blinking in protest against the sunlight.

“Good morning, Berdara.” An amused, rich baritone voice greeted her from the doorway to the bedroom. “If I had known you were trying to suffocate yourself in my sheets, I would have checked on you earlier. How are you feeling?”

Right. She had spent the night at Azriel’s. And as far as she could recall at the moment, nothing had happened. Gwyn ran a hand through her hair to try to smooth it down. One of the straps of her dress slipped off her shoulder and she did not fail to notice his eyes track that as he handed her a mug of coffee.

“I feel about as good as I must look,” she said, her voice hoarse from last night. She took a sip from the mug and tried to clear her throat. 

“Well, you must feel sexy as Hel then.” Azriel looked freshly showered and was in a grey hoodie and black sweatpants.
 
Gwyn snorted. “Did you forget to put your contacts in this morning?”

“I have perfect vision, thank you.”

“How are you able to stand there looking like that after the night we had.” Gwyn gestured in his direction, looking appreciatively at the way his damp hair flopped over his brow.

“Just because I’m naturally incredibly attractive doesn’t mean I don’t have a splitting headache. I’m assuming you do as well, so I also brought you this.” Azriel put down a glass of water on the nightstand along with two orange pills. Gwyn rolled her eyes but took the ibuprofens gratefully.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He stood over her as he spoke, looking down at her with unabashed interest. Even in her current state, she could feel her face heat. “Sleep well?”

“Like you have to ask. I’m sure I drooled on your pillows.” Gwyn pulled the thin silk strap back on her shoulder. She noticed his eyes track that as well. “You?”

“Seems like I can only sleep through the night when you’re in my bed.”

“Alcohol could have had something to do with it.”

“It wasn’t the alcohol, Gwyn.”

Something about the way he said her name always made her heart skip. She smiled up coyly at him. “Maybe we need to try it again, make sure it wasn’t some fluke.”

Azriel’s answering smile revealed his oft-hidden dimples. “I’m open to repeating this experiment as often as you’d like.”

He leaned over the bed to press a soft kiss to her lips. Then another. And another as she offered no resistance, her head tipping back. He tasted like coffee and mint and Gwyn immediately thought it was the best flavor in the world. But then she pulled away quickly and covered her mouth, aghast at the thought of what her own breath must be like after a night of drinking.

“If you’re that worried, I have an extra toothbrush in my bathroom. And some fresh towels if you want to shower.” Azriel didn’t appear the least bit phased.

“The service and amenities here are top notch, I’m going to give you at least four stars,” Gwyn said, getting up from the bed.

“What’s keeping me from the full five stars?”

Gwyn walked to the bathroom and turned back to Azriel with a simper. “The blueberry muffins were a little too sweet.”

“Ouch, Berdara.” Azriel put his hands to his heart, his brows high. “You wound me.”

She smiled sweetly at him as she closed the door.

And savored the gleaming luxury of his white marble bathroom for a second time. Gwyn was wrapped in a fluffy white towel, using another one to dry her hair when there was a light tap on the bathroom door.

“I have some clothes for you; I’m going to leave them on the bed –”

“You can come in,” she responded quickly, straightening up her stance in front of the mirror.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m decent.” Gwyn figured that her body wrapped in a towel certainly couldn’t be any more salacious than the slip of silk she wore out last night.

He entered, a bundle of clothes in one hand, eyes sweeping from the ground up her form slowly.

“I wouldn’t call you ‘decent’ looking like that.”

She waggled her brows at him. “I even brushed my teeth.”

Azriel grinned at her as he set the clothes down at the edge of the bathtub and then stalked silently over to her until he could cage her in, her backside pressed against the counter and his arms on either side of her. Their foreheads were nearly touching as she looked up at him through her lashes.

“That’s a good girl.” Gwyn was staring raptly at the curve of his lips as he spoke. “You look good like this.”

“You mean clean?” she teased.

“I mean in my towel. You’d look better out of it though.”

“That’s so chees –”

His mouth descended onto hers before Gwyn could complete her sarcastic remark. Azriel’s lips were both soft and firm, his tongue warm and wet as it swept inside her mouth. He kissed her the way she never knew she wanted to be – gentle yet demanding, guiding her so he could taste her more fully, putting enough pressure on her to make her yield into him. He had no right to be such a good kisser.

Azriel grabbed her by the waist and hiked her up to sit on the edge of the counter. The cold marble hitting the back of her thighs made her gasp, the inside of her knees squeezing into his hips. Here we are again, Gwyn thought, Azriel fully dressed and pressed between her legs while she was practically naked, this time with her bare ass on his marble top. She didn’t mind it one bit.

His hands glided up the outside of her legs and then moved under the towel where they gripped her hip bones. His fingers were hot, firm on her. Gwyn arched into him, her hands in Azriel’s hair, angling his head so they could deepen their kiss, their tongues slowly lapping against each other.

Every shift of movement as they were pressed against each other threatened to loosen the towel around her, and as his hands caressed over her hips and ass, the more she wished it would slip. She couldn’t get enough of him and had no reason to deny either one of them. Gwyn hooked one bare leg up to Azriel’s waist to pull his hips flush against her –
 
They were interrupted by a loud knocking on the front door.

“Open up, Singer. I want proof of life!” Nesta.

Azriel froze, then slowly pulled his lips from Gwyn’s with a groan.

Gwyn flopped her head down onto his shoulder. “You’re going to have to move. Somewhere the Archerons can’t find us.”

He laughed into her hair and Gwyn could not help the answering smile on her face, but the banging on the door started again.

“If I don’t answer that, I’m afraid she’ll kick my door in.”

“Oh she’ll do worse than that,” Gwyn murmured, as Azriel helped her off the counter and smoothed down her towel.

He gestured to the clothes at the edge of the tub. “Put those on, then please come rescue me.”

Azriel had given Gwyn a dark blue hoodie and matching sweatpants, plus socks, to wear. Everything looked ridiculously oversized on her, but it was soft and smelled faintly of his expensive cologne. She braided her damp hair and was immediately suspicious at how quiet it was outside. Gwyn walked out to the living room to find a pissed off Nesta with her hands on her hips facing off against a bored-looking Azriel who had his arms crossed.

Nesta flitted her blue-grey eyes to Gwyn with a concerned frown. “Are you okay?”

“Good morning, Nesta,” Gwyn said voice dripping with saccharine. She knew her tone would irritate her to no end. “Of course I’m okay.”

“I wanted to check on you. Plus, we have brunch soon and your clothes are upstairs.”

“Thank you for checking in and reminding us. That was so nice.”

Gwyn watched Nesta glance between her and Azriel like she could pull the answers to all her unasked questions by sheer will alone. Usually, it worked. However, Azriel wasn’t budging an inch.

So Nesta decided to take the more direct route and reached over to take Gwyn by the hand and pull her towards the door. “Okay, great, we’ll go get ready now. See you later, Az!”

Gwyn barely had time to meet Azriel’s surprised eyes before she was pulled away. And as soon as they got to Cassian’s penthouse, Nesta dragged Gwyn right into one of the guest bedrooms where Emerie was already waiting.

Emerie sat up on the bed with a pillow on her lap, her long dark hair spilling out of her braid. “Alright, spill it, Gwyn. We saw you and Az last night.”

“You were so wrapped up with Mor last night, I didn’t think you noticed anyone else,” Gwyn retorted with a smirk, sitting down close to Emerie.

“Well, I saw you and Az last night too,” Nesta added, sprawling out at the foot of the bed. “Everyone did.”

“How long has this been going on, Gwyn?” Emerie asked.

Oh, the inquisition has begun. Gwyn’s cheeks pinked but chose to answer honestly. “Since the wedding shower.”

“What?” Nesta’s eyes went wide. “But I thought you liked Tarquin.”

Emerie appeared flabbergasted. “You two have been hooking up for weeks now?”

“We haven’t been hooking up –” Gwyn tried to explain.

“You two haven’t had sex?”

“Not technically –”

“Wait, so what really happened between you and Az last week? Why were you so upset?” Nesta sat up, eyes narrowing. “What did he do?”

Gwyn tried to answer everything. “We haven’t been just hooking up. And last week wasn’t his fault. We had a misunderstanding, I overreacted. It’s fine now.”

“He's a total fuckboy, Gwyn.” Emerie looked furious. “How do you know he’s not just gaslighting you? Or playing you to get in your pants?”

Nesta straightened up, hesitating. “Well, Az isn’t a complete –”

“You didn’t see her when she came to Windhaven,” Emerie exclaimed. “She was so hurt, Nes.”

The rapid-fire conversation from her friends was beginning to wear on Gwyn. “What the Hel is going on, guys? I didn’t realize how little you thought of me or Azriel. He’s practically your brother, Nesta.”

“Of course,” Nesta answered, throwing a look at Emerie. “We adore Az, but we just hope you’re careful.”

Emerie sighed. “Gwyn, we don’t want to see you hurt, is all. We’re just being protective of you.”

“I don’t need to be protected,” Gwyn cried. “Especially not from Azriel. You don’t know how he is with me – he’s different with me, we’re different. You said you saw us last night; he’s been nothing but a gentleman –”

“He looked a little gropy to me,” Emerie mumbled.

Gwyn rolled her eyes.

“We love you and support you, Gwyn, and if you and Azriel are together, we will support that as well,” Nesta said, her voice softer.

Emerie leaned over to give her a hug. “I’m sorry Gwyn. I know Az is not a bad guy, but I’ve just never seen him in a relationship, I’m not sure he knows how to be in one.”

Gwyn answered with a shrug. “I’m not sure I can say that we’re in a relationship yet. We’ve been on one date. But I guess that’ll be something for us to figure out together.”

“Well, you could do worse than Azriel,” Nesta said with a wink. “He is the hottest brother.”

“Nesta you’re marrying Cassian.”

“So what?” Nesta smirked. “Cassian is the manliest. And Rhysand the most handsome.”

Emerie nodded. “She’s not wrong, Az is hot.”

“You’re a lesbian.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate male beauty,” Emerie grinned. “Tarquin, Azriel … Tarquin and Azriel …”

Gwyn groaned. “You two are seriously the worst.”

The trio shared a big giggling hug on the bed. Gwyn had wished on more than one occasion that Catrin could have met her chosen sisters. She would have taken to them immediately. They didn’t always agree on things, but it was never a doubt that they would support each other through it all. Gwyn knew that her twin would have been proud of the new life she made for herself, the new family she found, and the potential for a future that at one point she didn’t think she would have had.

“Come on, we’ve got to get ready. We’re all late for brunch,” Nest said, untangling herself from Gwyn and Emerie. “Gwyn, I’ll go get your clothes. And then someone needs to help me get my Illyrian baby out of bed and dressed.”

“Oh, gods no,” Gwyn grumbled.

“Doesn’t he sleep in the nude,” Emerie objected.

“Is he still wearing your crown?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out,” Nesta said with a sharp smile, pulling on Gwyn and Emerie’s arms. “Don’t be jealous, girls, let’s come on then!”

Chapter Text

Azriel

Azriel sat on the armchair, watching Cassian adjust his cufflinks for the thousandth time. He took a slow sip of his vodka-soda as Cassian moved to the mirror and started looking over his freshly shaved face and checking his slicked-back shoulder-length hair. Aside from the deep frown he was currently wearing, Cassian looked dashingly handsome in his white dinner jacket with his black tuxedo pants and a red rose boutonniere tucked into his lapel to match Nesta’s bouquet.

Not that Azriel and Rhysand hadn’t told him that at least a dozen times already.

The rest of the groomsmen wore traditional all-black tuxes with bow ties. Rhysand, Lucian and Balthazar sat on the big leather-tufted couches in the study, bonding and nursing drinks while killing time before the ceremony – and keeping an eye on Cassian in case he imploded from nerves.

“You sure you have the rings?” Cassian asked, again.

Azriel nodded reassuringly at his nervous brother. “Left chest pocket.”

“Not just the box, you made sure the rings were in there, right?”

“Yes, the rings are in the box in my left chest pocket.”

“But you checked recently, right, because –”

“We all checked. Here, take this.” Rhysand passed Cassian a small glass of whisky. “That’s one. You can have up to two before the ceremony.”

Cassian downed the drink quickly. “Thanks. I’m sorry if I’m a bit freaked out, I just want everything to be perfect.”

“We understand, brother. You can’t wait to become Mr. Nesta Archeron,” Rhysand said with a wink, adjusting Cassian’s bow tie, his own tuxedo already immaculate.

“You’re a very lucky man, Cass,” Balthazar came up to pat him on the back with a grin.

Cassian smiled, all dimples and white teeth. “Don’t I know it.”

“Nesta is just as lucky to have you in her life,” Lucien added.

“We all couldn’t be more thrilled for you, brother,” Azriel said softly.

They were interrupted by a polite cough from the doorway, where the blond-haired wedding planner now stood, holding the door open. She held her clipboard close to her chest and smiled sweetly.

“Gentlemen, it’s time.”

The formal garden overlooking the Sidra at the River House was where the ceremony would be taking place, with the reception in the back lawn. The ceremony setting was simple and elegant, with a floral arch designed by Elain framing the view to the river and white chairs to seat a hundred of their closest friends and family. With the sky clear and the temperature moderate, it was a picture-perfect day for a wedding.

Cassian stood nervously in front of the arch, alongside the priestess who would be officiating the vows. To his right was Azriel, then Rhysand, Lucien, Balthazar. Cassian shot a giddy grin in Azriel and Rhysand’s direction, which they returned in kind. When Azriel glanced over at Rhysand, he noticed his eyes soft and lined with silver. He wouldn’t have bet on Rhysand being the first to start the waterworks.

The live quartet started playing and all the groomsman straightened up in anticipation. Azriel put his hand on Cassian’s shoulder and squeezed it in encouragement as the bridal party appeared. After the flower girls, Emerie, Elain and then Feyre took their turns walking down the aisle, all wearing beautiful dusty blue gowns.

Then came Gwyn as the maid of honor and that was when Azriel’s breath hitched.

Gwyn was in a silver-blue one-shoulder gown with floral beading in the same hue woven through. Her long copper-brown hair was pulled away from her face and fell in soft waves down her back. Her smile was tranquil as she walked down the aisle looking from the faces of the guests to the wedding party, then at Cassian. But when her teal eyes drifted to Azriel, they sparked, and her smile bloomed – she had always been beautiful but at that moment he could swear that he had never seen another woman as stunning as she. He swallowed the lump building in the back of his throat.

Azriel had never dared to consider the potential of his own wedding day before – had actually done everything in his power to avoid the possibility of it – but that was all before Gwyn Berdara blew into his life and upended everything. All the relationship firsts he had previously steered clear of now appeared before him in a different light; all the good, even the bad, the complicated. He wanted that now. Even though part of him had no idea what to do, how to do it. But Azriel’s heart swelled at the idea of – dare he even think it? – having a partner in his life, and she was the one who sparked it in him.

He knew with sudden clarity that he wanted more than this situationship.

Azriel’s attention shifted to Cassian once the quartet switched to Pachelbel’s Canon in D. The smile on Cassian’s face died as soon as Nesta appeared at the end of the aisle, looking regal in her beaded, ivory off-shoulder gown with a deep v-neckline and tulle skirt. It was replaced with a look that was full of loving devotion. Azriel heard Rhysand sniffle at his side.

The ceremony was beautiful, and the couple wanted to include their own vows. Cassian, having not been able to find his own words to describe the depth of his devotion to Nesta, instead chose to read the declaration of love from one of her favorite romance novels. It had Nesta and the entire bridal party in tears.

Azriel did not forget the rings. And after the ring exchange, the couple joined hands and the best man and maid of honor wrapped a strip of silk ribbon around them, an Illyrian tradition symbolizing their newly tied lives. The ceremony concluded with the kiss where Cassian wrapped an arm around Nesta’s waist and dipped her back to lock lips dramatically. The crowd clapped and hooted.

The next few hours were a whirlwind. Though Gwyn was close by during all the activities, they hardly had a moment to do more than exchange a quick smile. There were the bridal party photos while the guests enjoyed cocktails, then the bridesmaids disappeared to help Nesta change into her reception gown. The reception itself was set up inside a massive tent on the back lawn with a draped ceiling, hanging twinkle lights and possibly every red rose in Prythian made into centerpieces. There was a live band, dance floor and it felt like the service staff may have outnumbered the guests. Nesta and Cassian had certainly spared no expense for their reception.

The wedding party shared a massive table with the bride and groom for dinner which was multi-course. Then there were the heartfelt best man and maid of honor speeches from Azriel and Gwyn, a humorous toast from Rhysand, and the cake-cutting ceremony (no brides or grooms were harmed in the feeding of the cake). Elain caught the bridal bouquet, which had her and Lucien blushing furiously at each other.

After dinner and the first hour of dancing, Azriel knew that Cassian and Nesta weren’t going to last through the end of their own wedding. They were wrapped in each other’s arms on the dance floor, swaying slowly as the guests bopped around them.

A tumbler of whisky suddenly appeared in front of his face.

“I give them five, maybe 10 minutes tops before they are doing it in Rhysand’s office.” Azriel took the proffered glass as Gwyn sat down next to him at the now-deserted head table. Everyone else was on the dance floor. His brows were high at her remark. She crinkled her nose at him. “You know I’m right.”

“I’ll give them 20 minutes and in the study.”

Gwyn gestured towards the River House. “The study is on the other side of the house, they’ll never make it that far.”

“Excellent point.” Azriel took a sip of his drink. “Didn’t Feyre prepare them a wedding suite at the house?”

“She did and hopefully it’s as far away from her own bedroom as possible or she and Rhysand will get no sleep tonight.”

Azriel chuckled.

“It was a beautiful ceremony. Cassian looked handsome.” Gwyn smiled, her hair falling over one shoulder. “You look better though.”

“You flatter me,” Azriel grinned. “You are stunning. Truly.”

A lovely blush appeared on Gwyn’s face. “Thank you.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Rhysand’s mellifluous voice came up from behind the pair. He ended up standing between them, his bow tie undone and top buttons to his shirt open. “I was wondering what my two favorite people at the table were up to?”

Gwyn looked up at him and smirked. “We’re just wondering how much longer the happy bride and groom will be able to manage being out in public before they need to ‘retire for the evening.’”

Rhysand winced. “It was Feyre’s idea to offer them a bedroom at our house for the night. I wanted to get them a suite at the Four Seasons.”

“Do you think they’ll be able to make it all the way to the bedroom?”

“I mean, it's just upstairs –”

“Oh gods, there they go!”

The trio watched with rapt amusement as the amorous-looking bride and groom drifted away from the dance floor and started making their way to the River House. Cassian had one hand firmly on Nesta’s rear while she led him by the lapel of his jacket.

Azriel nudged his brother. “I hope you locked your office.”

Rhysand looked quizzically at Azriel before it dawned on him. He groaned. “Oh gods, surely they can make it to the bedroom. I have legal documents on my desk.”

“I hope they aren’t the originals.”

Rhysand grabbed Azriel’s whisky and downed it. “I don’t want to think about that. Maybe Feyre and I should use that hotel room instead.”

“Well, as long as they remember to close the door …” Gwyn muttered with a giggle. Both Azriel and Rhysand groaned.

“Alright then … and how do you both feel? Your wedding helper duties are finally over.”

“They won’t be over until tomorrow at exactly 11:15 when their flight to Cretea takes off and they can’t get cell service anymore,” Gwyn answered with a wink.

Rhysand chuckled and picked at an invisible stain on his lapel as he addressed Azriel. “How do you feel about being the last single brother standing?”

“Actually, I am hoping not to be single for much longer.” Azriel looked to Gwyn, who pinked.

“You two make a good pair. And not just as professional Nessian handlers.” Rhysand smiled sincerely. “I hope you see that.”

Right in front of Rhysand, Azriel reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. Gwyn looked at him in surprise, her blush deepening.

“We do – or at least I do. I can see that now.”

Rhysand put a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, a tender smile on his face. He leaned into his ear and said lowly, “treat her with kindness and respect, brother.”

With a dip of his head, Rhysand went to find his wife on the dance floor.

Azriel kept Gwyn’s hand in his. He turned to her fully, his eyes open with the vulnerability he usually never showed. “I meant what I said. Berdara – Gwyn – I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind for weeks. You’re brilliant and funny and incredibly infuriating, ridiculously irreverent. And I love all of that about you. You’re also the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

“And I’ve never done this before, so I’m probably going to fuck this up.” Azriel huffed a nervous laugh. “Gods, I’m scared to death.”

He locked eyes with Gwyn. “I’ve been a fool for years. I’ve kept myself from you because I didn’t think I was worth your time. I don’t think I’ll ever be worthy of you. But I want to try to be, every single day. For as long as you’ll bear with me. And even beyond that.

“It’s you, Gwyn. I only feel this way about you. I have and could never feel the same way about anyone else. I don’t want to question what we have anymore. I want us to be together, if you’ll have me.”

Azriel’s heart thundered in his chest as Gwyn sat in silence.

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” she asked tentatively.

He swallowed. “Is it too soon?”

“Do you mean it? You don’t want to keep your options open anymore?”

“I mean every word, Gwyn. I only want you.” Azriel gave her hand a squeeze. “But if you think it’s too much –”

“No, I don’t think it’s too much. I want it, with you. Azriel, I  –”

“Wait,” he interrupted. “What did you call me?”

“Your … name?”

He smiled broadly.

She smiled quizzically back at him. “What is it?”

“You never call me by my name.”

“Would my boyfriend prefer to be called something else?”

“Your …”

“Mm-hm.” Gwyn leaned into Azriel and laid a hand on his jacket, gripping around his lapel. He let her pull him closer to her until their faces were next to each other, their noses touching. Azriel felt her lashes move against his cheek.

He tipped his head up and met her lips with his own.

Azriel let his free hand move up until he was holding the back of her neck, fingers in her hair, thumb brushing her jawline. He angled her head so he could deepen their kiss, tongue lapping against hers. Gwyn dragged her teeth across his lower lip, her grip on his lapel tightening. Azriel shifted, wrapping his arms around Gwyn and pulling her off her chair and onto his lap. She made a small squeal of surprise which he swallowed and felt her wrap her arms around his neck immediately.

“I don’t have the best confidence that this rental chair is going to hold up with us both on it,” Gwyn mumbled between kisses.

“I’m more worried about your dress – the skirt is huge, I can’t tell where your legs are,” Azriel replied. He could feel her smiling against his lips.

They parted to the sound of wolf whistles by the bar, where Lucien, Elain, Mor and Emerie were grinning furiously and waving at them. Elain held her champagne flute up in a silent toast.

Gwyn dipped her head onto Azriel’s shoulder. “Damn busybodies.”

“Would you like to get out of here?” he asked into her hair.

She picked her head up and gave him a heated look. “Please.”

Gwyn and Azriel got up off their chair and held hands as he led her back into the River House, ignoring the whoops and cheers from their friends at the bar. When they got to the main hallway, they paused briefly, straining their ears to try to figure out if Nesta and Cassian were in any of the public spaces. Thankfully it at least sounded like they made it to a room with a door. With a giggle, they moved on, Azriel leading Gwyn up the stairs to where the guestrooms were located. The River House was massive, and the Night estate had no shortage of space for family. Azriel opened the fourth door on the left, his usual room when he stayed over. It was secluded and had a view of the Sidra.

When the door was closed behind them, Azriel and Gwyn embraced immediately, Gwyn’s back against the door while he braced his arms on either side of her.

“Azriel,” she said breathily.

“Yes, Gwyn, anything.” He started trailing kisses over her jaw and along the side of her neck.

“I want you.”

His jaw set at her words. “I owe you from last –”

“No, we don’t owe each other anything.” Gwyn held his face in her hands, and she picked it up so they could look into each other’s eyes. “But I want you, I want to feel all of you. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

“Gods, yes.”

“I want you too. In whatever way you’ll have me.” His eyes searched hers. Gwyn’s eyes were deeper blue than usual, she looked determined.

“I want you, Azriel, and I don’t want you to hold back.”

A thrill went through Azriel that he felt low in his gut, his answering smile purely wicked. One hand traveled up from her waist, dragging his palm over her midriff, between the valley of her breasts, over her collarbones, until he could close his fingers around Gwyn’s delicate neck. He applied light pressure, pulling her closer to him as her chest heaved once.

“Whatever my girlfriend wants, she’ll get.” Azriel pressed his hips closer against hers, notching one thigh between her legs. “Now take that dress off before I do it for you.”

Chapter Text

Gwyn

The wedding was everything Gwyn had hoped for Nesta and Cassian. She had never seen her chosen sister so soft as when she was walking down the aisle towards the love of her life. Or Cassian with such love in his eyes as when he set his eyes on his future bride. It made her heart feel so full at the potential for their lives together.

She hadn’t dared to hope before, but there were now thoughts of such potential for her own life. It was still so early on but no one else had ever made her heart beat with such elated speed but Azriel. She had shared furtive smiles with him through the vows, danced with him at the reception, was openly affectionate towards him in front of their family and friends. And now at evening’s end, Gwyn found herself alone with him in his very room, led there by the feeling of rightness in her heart, the reaction her body had to each look, each touch, each exhale of breath from the man looming over her.

Gwyn complied to Azriel’s command, fumbling for the zipper on the side of her dress as her eyes never left his. His hand gripped her neck, caressing lightly even though he still kept her firmly pinned against the door. Once she had the zipper undone, she pulled her one-shoulder gown off her, letting it slide off her body and pool at her feet. She was left only in a sheer, nude strapless bra, matching panties and her silver heels.

She watched with hooded eyes as Azriel looked down and then back up at her body appreciatively, his strong thigh once again notched between her legs and applying firm pressure to her center. He squeezed her neck lightly, moving in closer to apply another kiss to her lips, this time more forcefully. Gwyn practically whimpered under his touch, resisting the urge to cant her hips over him.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he rasped into her ear as he began trailing wet kisses across her jaw and his hands moved to grip her high on her waist, thumbs brushing across each covered nipple. Gwyn arched into him, laying the back of her head against the door as she felt the dull throb building in her panties at every slight shift of his thigh right against her core. Azriel pulled the sheer cups of her bra down and grasped a breast in each large hand, kneading and squeezing them as they peaked under his caress.

“Oh Gods,” she moaned weakly, rocking her pelvis back and forth slowly across his firm thigh. Gwyn felt him growing hard against her hip and reveled at the thought of it, at the relief she wanted from him. She reached her hand over to cup him through his trousers and rubbed her palm back and forth across his length. He was big. Her core clenched in anticipation at the realization.

Azriel let out a choked growl and the deep sound of him sent shivers down her spine.

“See what you do to me, how much I want you,” he gritted out. He jerked his thigh up at her core, making Gwyn close her eyes at the sensation. “No, keep your eyes on me.”

It was difficult for Gwyn to open her eyes, she already enjoyed too much the feel of him against her, but he started pulling away, keeping his hands on her as he walked backwards and led them to his bed. Azriel sat down on the edge, legs wide, and Gwyn stood between them, his hands now traveling over her ass.

“As good as you look right now, take it off, all of it.” His eyes gleamed in the dimly lit room. “Show me how much you want me.”

Gwyn trembled, eyes never leaving his but a blush spreading up her neck and over her face at the intensity of Azriel’s gaze on her. She reached back behind her, unhooking her bra and dropping it to the floor. Then with a mischievous grin, she turned her back to him, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down, bending low at the waist while keeping her legs straight. Gwyn heard Azriel’s deep groan, felt his hands as he ran them up the back of her thighs to cup her ass, before he suddenly gripped her hips, turning her back around and pulling her to him until she was sitting astride on him. He was fully hard under her.

As one arm was firmly wrapped around her waist, Gwyn took his other hand and sucked his middle fingers into her mouth, sucking and licking them lightly. She released his fingers, then guided them down her front, over one breast and lower, across her stomach and down to her core. She stared intently at him as she pressed his fingers into her, at her hot arousal there. Gwyn gasped when Azriel started moving his hand, rubbing it across her clit and dipping his middle finger into her.

“So fucking wet,” Azriel rasped roughly.  “Is this what I do to you?”

Gwyn started moving against his hand. “Yes. All the time.”

“During those fucking audit meetings –”

“Yes.”

“Our dinners –”

“Uh-huh.”

“When you rode on my bike –”

“Gods, yes,” she gasped out, her ears filling with the sounds of his heavy breaths and her slick arousal on his fingers.

Gwyn felt Azriel lap his tongue up her neck and then bite down lightly on her earlobe. He breathed into her ear, “I want to feel you, I want you to cum on my cock.”

The words alone made Gwyn flutter around his fingers in excitement as her heart beat wildly. She managed out a strangled, “Please.”

In a fluid motion, Azriel flipped them around on the bed until Gwyn was on her back, propped on her elbows, legs bent. He stood before her and finally started removing his clothes, pulling off his tie and undoing his cufflinks with aching slowness. The jacket went next, then his shoes, socks, the glacial unbuttoning of his shirt. Gwyn squirmed impatiently.

Azriel tsked at her with a devilish grin. “Patience.”

He finally peeled off his shirt, revealing the muscular expanse of his tan chest, his broad shoulders and strong arms, all covered with his beautiful Illyrian tattoos. Gwyn’s eyes traveled down to his trousers, to the hard outline of him through them. Azriel undid the top button of his pants, then stopped. He leaned forward over Gwyn, his hands rubbing her knees, considering.

“How do you want me, love?”

Gwyn swallowed hard. “On top. This time. I want to feel you overwhelm me.”

Azriel’s answering dark chuckle sent a pulse of arousal between her legs. “Open your legs for me then. Let me see you.”

She did as she was told, splaying her knees wide for him. Azriel’s sudden inhale of breath at the sight of her sent another pulse through her and she leaned up onto her hands on the bed, hair tumbling around her. His eyes were focused on her core as his hands went back to his pants and he divested himself of his trousers and underwear at the same time. His cock sprang free, hard and already drooling.

He reached to his jacket on the floor and pulled a condom from the pocket, eyes still intent on Gwyn’s own as he ripped the foil wrapper with his teeth. Gwyn moved further back onto the bed, her breaths coming out faster as Azriel prowled closer towards her, rolling on the condom efficiently and then pumping himself once, twice.

“Are you ready for me?” His voice was low, deep.

Gwyn could only nod her assent as her heart was stuttering in her throat. She wanted this – him – so badly at the moment that she could hardly keep herself from trembling even though he wasn’t even touching her.

Azriel grabbed a pillow and placed it under her hips, then pulled her closer to him as he kneeled before her. He leaned in to kiss her deeply while one hand still gripped his cock, moving it forward until he could press his head against her wet entrance, rubbing it up and down languidly against her lips to coat himself thoroughly in her arousal. Gwyn mewled at the sensation, her legs immediately gripping his hips to feel him closer.

The initial feeling of him pushing into her pussy, spreading her lips and stretching her as his cock glided inside, was deliciously filling. They both groaned into each other’s mouth, Azriel’s elbows now propped on either side of her head while Gwyn wrapped her arms around his torso, her nails raking across his back.

His push into her was so achingly slow that Gwyn could feel every inch of him within her until he was fully seated. Then the deliberately unhurried withdrawal before Azriel pushed back in and stretched her again. Over and over.

“You feel so fucking good,” he hissed out, hips canting as he drew in and out of her. “You’re so hot and tight on me.”

Gwyn’s mind was reeling with everything and nothing at the same time as she gave herself over to the moment. The feel of his cock in her was like nothing she had experienced before – she had never felt so full before, her inner walls already fluttering at the sensation of him, the heat building in her lower abdomen. She tipped her head back into the bed as Azriel laved his tongue along her neck.

“Gwyn, look at us.” She looked to his face to find him alternating between grinning and gasping. Azriel looked down between them. “Look at how beautiful you are. How well we fit together.”

She opened her legs wide while they laid on the bed and he above her, and they both watched raptly as his cock undulated in and out of her slick heat. The room was filled with the sounds of their joining.

“I can’t get enough. I want you closer,” Gwyn panted out as Azriel started thrusting faster into her, her legs tightening around his hips as her hands gripped his arms. She realized she was still wearing her heels. Azriel put more of his weight on her and it was delicious feeling his finely muscled chest dragging across her nipples as they moved.

He hooked one of his arms under her leg to open her up further and was able to thrust into her at a slightly different angle, rubbing her inner walls in a way that made Gwyn lose all focus, her sounds of pleasure coming out uninhibited as the heat and pressure built in her core.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” Azriel gritted out next to her ear, his pace increasing, breaths uneven.

“M-Me too,” she stuttered, crying out his name suddenly as she felt her pussy clenching and fluttering around him as she started to come, nails digging into his arms as she tensed and arched under him.

“Say that again,” he demanded breathlessly.

Azriel. Azriel. Azriel. She panted out his name like prayers, as she trembled through her orgasm, as he continued to thrust into her, extending the sensation for her. Azriel. Azriel. She felt him tense over her, his cock swelling and pulsing as he came inside her, his voice a long, deep groan next to her ear.

“You are …” Azriel’s voice trailed off with another groan as an aftershock hit him and Gwyn felt him twitch in her. It sent a flutter of pleasure through her core as she panted, trying to catch her breath.

“Incredible,” she finished for him. Her hands ran up and down his back as he came down and started to relax, releasing her leg.

Still joined, Azriel pressed soft kisses along Gwyn’s neck and lips. He exhaled deeply.

“Is it too soon to say that I want to do that again?”

Azriel groaned good-naturedly. “I obviously didn’t bring enough condoms for the likes of you.”

With another kiss on the lips, he got up slowly and pulled out of her. Gwyn missed the warmth and fullness of him immediately. He padded to the bathroom to clean up and returned with a warm, wet washcloth for her. After he helped to clean her, Gwyn finally remembered to remove her heels.

They settled into the soft bed, wrapped in each other’s arms wearing nothing but their satisfied grins. They could still hear the faint sounds of the reception from outside.

Gwyn leaned her head on Azriel’s shoulder. “Gods, I hope no one heard us.”

“We always have the bride and groom to blame if anyone says anything.” He rubbed his forehead with his free hand. “But I feel a bit embarrassed – I never thought our first time together would be at Rhys’ house when there are a hundred people right outside.”

“Well, I guess you’ll just need to make it up to me,” Gwyn said with a shrug.

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “Hey, I thought we didn’t owe each other anything anymore.”

“Oh this is purely voluntary.” Gwyn started pressing soft kisses into the crook of his neck. “But I don’t think you’ll deny me.”

Azriel shifted as her hands started making their way down his body. “I’m beginning to think I won’t be able to deny you anything.”

The only thing that Azriel denied her was an uninterrupted night’s rest. By the time the sun rose over the Velaris sky, they lay thoroughly sated in their borrowed bed, wrapped in each other.   

Gwyn woke before Azriel, stretching her arms over her head while he maintained a firm arm around her middle. She managed to wiggle out of his grasp, then reached for his discard button-down shirt to cover herself. Once loosely buttoned, the white shirt hit her mid-thigh. She leaned over the bed to give Azriel’s prone form a soft kiss on the forehead.

“I’m going to get you coffee this time. I’ll be right back.”

Azriel mumbled something, but she was already out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. Gwyn padded barefoot through the long hallway, taking care not to wake anyone else. No one was going to be up early the morning considering how the drinks flowed at the reception last night.

She took ginger steps down the stairs as she realized how sore she was from their activities last night. Azriel’s appetite was voracious and his absolute certainty in what he wanted – and what he wanted was simply all of her – aroused Gwyn to no end. He didn’t treat her as if she was something delicate and easily broken, she liked that he used her for their mutual pleasure. Gwyn loved the feeling of being simultaneously worshipped and ravaged by him, so much so that she may have ended up having five – or was it six? – orgasms last night thanks to his attentive ministrations.

If her mind was not busy daydreaming about the filthy things she had done (and those she had yet to do) with Azriel, perhaps then she would have registered the sounds of movement downstairs. But Gwyn was too far gone in her own mind to think of anything relative to her surroundings until her bare foot took that last step off the stairs and six pairs of eyes in the kitchen turned to focus immediately on her.

Nesta and Cassian stood by the door with their luggage. Elain and Lucien sat at the big kitchen table with coffee and tea. Feyre and Rhysand were standing behind the kitchen island, setting out platters of food. All movement and chatter stopped except for Lucien who choked on his mouthful of tea. Elain covered her mouth, eyes full of mirth.

“Good morning, Gwyneth,” Rhysand broke the awkwardness, his brows high with amusement.

“Hi. Morning. I didn’t realize anyone would be down here yet,” Gwyn said sheepishly, crossing her arms in front of her.

Lucien snorted. “Obviously.”

Cassian grinned broadly. “Gwyn! You look well –” Feyre shot him a warning glare “– er, rested.”

“Could we interest you in some breakfast?” she asked kindly.

“I uh, was here for some coffee,” Gwyn answered sheepishly, suddenly shy around her closest friends.

A hand clasped hers from behind and Gwyn turned to find Azriel standing next to her, having come down the stairs silently. He was barefoot, wearing his tuxedo pants and a hoodie. Azriel squeezed her hand reassuringly and stepped forward to lead her into the kitchen.

“Morning,” Azriel said casually to his family, strolling with Gwyn over to the coffeemaker where he proceeded to pull two mugs and fill them. Gwyn shyly accepted hers, then let Azriel bring them to sit at the table with Elain and Lucien. Feyre set down a tray of pastries.

Cassian came up beside Gwyn and leaned over to give her a hug. “I knew it. You guys reeked of sexual tension for ages.”

“I would give you a hug too, but I don’t want to smell like debauchery on the plane,” Nesta sniggered.

“I fail to see what’s funny about being affectionate with my own girlfriend,” Azriel said flatly, reaching for a croissant.

Lucien let out a low whistle as Nesta and Feyre squealed, and Cassian grabbed Azriel from behind in a chokehold of a hug. Elain smiled widely and reached across the table to give Gwyn’s hand a gentle, excited squeeze. Rhysand didn’t say a word, only looking from Azriel to her with nothing but pure affection in his eyes. He placed his right hand over his chest and tipped his head in acknowledgement to Gwyn.

Her eyes searched Azriel’s face quickly for any sign of dismay or doubt, but he was grinning broadly, taking in his family’s good-natured jesting in stride. Gwyn couldn’t contain the pink flush that crossed over her face at everyone’s reaction. Couldn’t help the warmth that spread in her chest at Azriel’s openness and assurity to their new relationship status.

A few years ago, Gwyn was so broken that the prospect of love in any form was an impossibility. The idea of still having a life worth living after Catrin felt like a pipe dream. And now to have all this – Gwyn looked at every single person in that kitchen, at every single smiling face – her life was full again in so many ways. And to have him. The man that at one time she was afraid to admit to being more than a mere acquaintance was now someone she could possibly envision a very real future with.

She didn’t want to say the words because it was too much too soon, but she could feel it, those three little syllables that had begun to form on her lips. Maybe someday soon she’ll give in to the desire to sound them out with her mouth. To have him receive them; to know they came from the depth of her being. Because finally she knew that she was worthy, and he was worth it.

“I guess we’re ‘official official’ now. You okay with it, love?” Azriel asked gently into her ear, his hand warm and reassuring on her knee under the table.

Gwyn smiled in returned, lifting her eyes to peer into those of the handsome man before her. She pressed her thigh against his. “I couldn’t be better.”