On My Radar

Azriel lifted his gaze only briefly from the sparring match unfolding before him. The shadows had been restless all morning. He spared only a moment to scan the ring. Just like everyone out there, Azriel had been watching Gwyn and Cassian slugging it out in the noon sun for the better part of the last hour. She was advancing at an impressive rate. It was remarkable. She was remarkable.

The Valkyrie before him barely resembled the brutalized priestess from Sangravah. He knew enough about trauma to know that the girl who he'd wrapped carefully in his cloak would always be in there somewhere. Just as he would always be the boy in the cage, hands aflame. And yet, he had watched her so closely these years. She had honed her craft, forged herself into something stronger, something nearly indestructible. Or so he hoped.

If you are done gawking, Lady Death is alone.

Azriel rolled his eyes at their intrusion. The shadows knew he'd planned to speak with Nesta and had spotted her leaning against the water station. His eyes found her quickly enough in another darting glance around the ring. She was gulping down water despite his repeated warnings to go slowly. Sweat dripped from her face, evidence of a particularly grueling morning session. She also watched the match intently, smiling as Gwyn executed a perfect defensive roll along the mat, away from a confused Cassian.

The shadows were correct. It was the perfect time to speak to Nesta. He needed to make some sort of progress on his newest mission to give it a real chance at success. What annoyed him was the shadows and their growing impertinence where Gwyn was concerned.

The basics of this mission had sparked in his chest way back at Solstice and had been increasingly occupying his every waking thought. He would have to be strategic and stealthy. Nesta, of everyone, couldn't suspect a plan in play.

Lady Death is quite observant.

I know.

She already suspects your plotting. Her eyes track you. Her brow is furrowed.

You see that I'm looking right at her, right? I can see her face. I know what it means.

They always did that. The shadows enjoyed imparting fairly obvious or arguably useless facts directly into his mind. It could be annoying and distracting. They shared information either verbally or on a more intuitive level, but it was nearly always inexorably woven in with nuggets of utter inanity.

Unfortunately, most of their intel was undeniably vital.

Azriel knew that people considered him quiet and aloof. How much of that was his natural personality and how much was necessity? He would never be able to guess after so many centuries. What he did know was that his life was rarely quiet. The shadows constantly peppered him with observations.

They had many different voices. Although Azriel had never detected distinct personalities, nor had he recognized a singular voice from one interaction to the next. The group of voices grew and shrank based on want and need. Some sounded older and those thankfully seemed to be more discerning in their interjections. Some sounded younger, eager, and somewhat random in their statements. They knew him and he knew them.

Sometimes he just became aware of a fact because they wanted him to know it. It had gotten better over the centuries. He had gotten better. Better at maintaining a conversation despite the incessant, underlying din in his head. If they had calmed, so had he. Initially, he could barely complete a sentence without losing his train of thought. Illyrians called him deranged, and maybe he was back then. Now, he'd grown accustomed to skirting conversations and lurking on the edge of social gatherings to make it less noticeable.

Elain had noticed though. She thought he suffered from headaches. He didn’t have the heart to correct her. If she had learned more about what it meant to be Illyrian or High Fae, she would have known that he doesn't suffer much in the way of physical ailments or chronic pain. She was right that he did rub his temples. It was a way to ease the stress from the constant barrage of information that the shadows compounded onto his already heightened senses.

Azriel had always been uniquely able to track the shift in scents as emotions ebbed and flowed across a crowded room. He heard bits of conversation across the hall or noticed the way Cassian’s left calf would rub against the chair leg because his nerves caused him to fidget as meetings dragged on. He noticed furtive glances or that an opponent favored their right side. It wasn’t just in the ring. Everyone was an opponent. Everything was on his radar, constantly. It had to be. His head was a noisy and exhausting place to try to live. Forget thriving.

Elain had noticed him though. That meant something. She saw him struggle and she tried to help. That wasn’t common for him. At least he’d used the headache powder for that particularly nasty hangover when Rhys dusted off the single malt as his inevitable peace offering.

Lady Death approaches. Assuming you are done feeling sorry for yourself. She saw you looking at her.

Fuck off.

Is that the legendary Shadowsinger eloquence?

I'm not considered eloquent.

Clearly.

"What's on your mind, Az?"

"Why does something have to be on my mind, Nesta? You're standing at the water station. Perhaps I'm thirsty."

"You know I'm not an idiot, correct?"

"You don't have to be an idiot to find me difficult to read."

"True, but I've got a couple things working in my favor on that front."

"As in?"

"Well, the way I see it, if Tamlin's glamor didn’t work on me, whatever this play-it-cool vibe you’ve got going on this morning has approximately zero chance of convincing me of anything. Also, I watched a certain redheaded priestess read you like a cheap paperback for many a moon, so perhaps I’ve picked up some tips along the way."

"She does seem particularly astute." Azriel looked back at the sparring match with something bordering on concern, if not mild panic.

"Particularly when you pique her interest." Nesta continued to watch Az, but he didn’t take the bait.

"I didn't know about Tamlin's glamor. I've never actually heard of something like that before." Azriel studied her.

"Yeah. So spill. What can I do you for?" It was Nesta's turn to evade questions that even she was too afraid to ask herself.

"I think Gwyn should move out of the library, but I’m not sure how to encourage her without interfering in something that isn't my place."

"So this IS about you being thirsty?" Azriel choked on his sip of water as Nesta continued. "Would it surprise you to know I’ve been thinking the same thing? I don’t think it is interfering to encourage her, by the way. She's a grown female who will do as she pleases, as you well know. We are her close friends. All we can do is tell her the truth and support her when she needs us."

Azriel was surprised by Nesta’s encouragement and shocked to be included as one of Gwyn’s close friends. Surprised to find that it was true and honored that Nesta thought so.

Lady Death is sincere. She is also correct. The Little Valkyrie is our friend. Lady Death spoke to gauge your response. Her eyes are reading your face. She is pleased that you are honored. She is sad that you doubt. She is also hungry. Lady Death needs to pee.

"So, what should we do now?"

"I'll talk to her."

"You will? Is it that simple?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Do you think she will consider it?"

"I hope so. It is the right move. She's ready. She won't grow anymore where she is."

"I hope so too. She's a fascinating person. I feel invested in her journey somehow."

"You did an amazing thing when you saved her, Azriel."

"I should have…"

"Don’t. You saved her that day. And, you're still saving her, in a way. It is quickly becoming my favorite thing about you, brother."

***

The Shadowsinger couldn’t shake Nesta’s words as he flew over the River House. He had been mostly avoiding it lately, but this meeting with Rhys was important and he missed his nephew almost painfully. Azriel had been focused on the front lawn, but at the last minute, he veered to the back of the house.

The shadows swarmed his face and he stumbled on his landing. When they finally cleared, he noticed Elain staring at him uncomfortably before politely averting her gaze to let him collect himself privately. He dusted off his pants legs and approached her cautiously.

"I have a meeting with Rhys."

"The High Lord is in his study, I believe."

Middle Sister is uncomfortable. She doesn't know what is appropriate. She is glad to see you. She doesn't want to show it. Her eyes are dilated. Her breathing is shallow. She smells of manure.

"The garden looks lovely, Elain."

"Thank you. It is exhausting to keep up though. Feyre doesn’t understand at all. Everything just grows so easily here. I spend all day weeding and wake up to find dozens of random plants that just sprouted overnight. It is basically a jungle."

Azriel looked again around the back garden to notice perfectly pruned roses and bushy cosmos. A fragrant herb garden of neat little rows sat conveniently near the kitchen door. Tiny wooden stakes marked each plant by name in an elegant matching script. Azriel detected nothing out of place as he turned, hands clasped behind his back and wings slightly stretched in the midday sun.

Middle Sister is unhappy here.

"You're blocking my sun, Azriel. I do so enjoy the feel on my face."

"I'm very sorry, Elain." Azriel stepped aside and pulled his wings in tighter, feeling ashamed at his obvious blunder.

"It isn't your fault. Wings are a bit cumbersome. I can tell. I still can’t get used to seeing Feyre just sprout wings right out of her back."

Middle Sister sees weeds in everything.

I have no idea what that means.

Clearly.

"I suppose I should be grateful that I still get to be close to my sisters. We shared a bed, you know, before Tamlin came. I always expected that I would marry though, like other girls in society, and move away to run my husband's house. That was common. We’d visit of course, as appropriate for family. I just never saw myself residing in my younger sister’s house for any length of time. Her court, I should say." Elain spat the word with such dignity that it would have been hard for anyone else to detect the resentment.

Middle Sister is unhappy here.

"You want that too. To move out from under this control. To start something of your own?"

"Rhys and Cassian are my family."

"Not your true family. Not blood."

Middle Sister cannot see.

She is literally a Seer. You remember that part, right?

Irony.

"What's so wrong about wanting a simple life that is my very own?"

"Nothing at all, Elain. No one here wants to deny you that." This conversation was getting so stressful. He was always so tongue-tied with Elain. He never knew the right thing to say to her and he cared so deeply to please her.

"I knew you agreed with me."

Middle Sister is wrong. You do not agree.

I don't know what is happening.

Clearly.

"You need to find your mate, Azriel."

"Excuse me?" Azriel’s warm body ran cold.

"So you can sever the bond. As loath as I am to let my choices be dictated by some primal magic, I won’t live my life looking over my shoulder either. I will not be turned aside again because of some Fae stupidity. I will sever this bond with Lucien, as soon as you sever with your mate and not a moment before. That is the only way we can live in peace."

"I don't have a mate, Elain." He’d been so sure before. Could he be again?

"You do. I can’t see it clearly, but I just know you do. She's out there and I refuse to fear her."

Nothing to add?

Not at this time. No. Nothing. Middle Sister is watching you. She expects an answer.

Azriel could barely process what she was saying. Could he have a mate? Would he be able to sever a sacred mating bond? Elain clearly wouldn’t understand. She wasn't really Fae.

"You would choose a life with no mating bond."

"You mean avoid rutting in the dirt like some beast. Surely."

You would enjoy rutting in the dirt with a mate. You would enjoy that a lot. Immensely and preferably repeatedly.

Thank you, but it doesn't seem like the time to quibble.

If not now, when?

Azriel didn’t have an answer for that. The whole conversation had gotten out of control. He wasn’t sure what he had been thinking. Did he think she would sever the bond and choose him and somehow that would make him her mate? Sitting in the middle of her manicured lawn, he couldn’t bring himself to argue. Something about Elain always stilled his tongue and he hated the idea of upsetting her.

"I'm not a virgin, you know?" Azriel’s head snapped up at her words. Mother save him. "I’m not afraid of sex and I don’t need saving, Azriel. But the whole frenzy thing is just beastly. I won’t do it. I will choose my life and it will be as close to the life I lost as possible. There is nothing wrong with wanting that. I won’t be made to feel ashamed."

"Nor should you be ashamed. I will help you if I can. But I don't see how I can be a part of what you want, Elain. I’m truly sorry."

The Shadowsinger bowed his head formally in farewell. As his feet took the stairs up to the study, he felt both an emptiness and a lightness. A dream that had been living inside him had just evaporated before his eyes with every word that spilled from her beautiful lips. But, it took with it his indignant rage and simmering resentment. In its place was a spark of hope.

Elain said he had a mate. She would sever a mating bond for him, but could he ever offer her the same? He had wanted her to choose him, but what would his choice be in her place? Would he take a lover over his mate?

You know the answer to that, Shadowsinger.

With every bit of who I am. I know the answer.

Good.

A familiar fragrance hit him as he approached his brother's study. Gwyn. At the River House. The smell was so comforting and familiar to him. There was no hint of fear or worry in it. He could scent most of her emotions at this point in their friendship. Her fear was the first one. One he never could forget and the only one he hoped to never encounter again. If Gwyn had been here, she was at least calm.

Little Valkyrie was here. She was calm. She was pretty. She smells of water lilies. Her robes swish with a melody when she walks.

Focus. She was here to see Rhys?

Yes.

Do you know why?

Yes.

Are you going to make me ask?

It is private.

Excuse me? You'll tell me that Elaine had squished earthworm guts under her nails and ate cabbage rolls for lunch, but you won't tell me why my Gwyn was just meeting with my brother?

Your Gwyn? And yes.

You know what I meant. Well. This is disconcerting to say the least. So you've been keeping secrets from me for centuries?

No.

Why now?

Little Valkyrie is different.

How so?

She belongs to us, as well as to you.

I have no idea what that means.

Clearly.

"So. What you're saying, Nesta, is that you have nothing concrete to report." Azriel was failing miserably at sounding nonchalant, and he knew it.

Shadowsinger is also failing miserably at being civil. Being diplomatic. Being strategic. Being stealthy.

"No. What I'm saying, you taciturn twat, is that I don't report to you. I did happen to share, out of my limited vault of generosity, that I spoke with Gwyn today and she likes the idea of moving into the House."

"Then what's the problem?"

Strong Brother approaches. He will not appreciate you antagonizing his mate.

Tough luck for him. I'm not tiptoeing around just because everyone else has a mate.

Unless you have one, of course.

You're wrong.

Shadows are incapable of being wrong.

Just cryptic and indecipherable then.

"We have a problem?" Cassian asked as he entered the living room to glares from both his mate and his brother.

"I was just telling Az that Gwyn likes the idea of moving in, but that she needs to think about it and run it by somebody with library administration or whatever." At least this time when Nesta said it, she sounded equally unnerved by that last part.

"She actually said library administration?" Cassian asked with a raised brow, and Azriel was pleased that they were finally coming around to the part that was sticking in his craw.

"Probably Clotho." Cassian continued as he climbed past Nesta to perch himself on the back of the sofa. Azriel shot his brother a disgusted look. He was surrounded by fucking amateurs.

You are behaving like an ass.

I am aware. Not a role I’ve shied away from in the past, now is it? Even with my brothers. At this point, I bet they would be more shocked by tenderness than anything else from me.

You are correct, but Lady Death is not an amateur.

"Maybe." Nesta drawled, sounding thoroughly unconvinced.

"Why maybe?"

"Because Ariel is right." She sounded pained to admit it. "There was just something odd in how she said it. I feel like if she meant Clotho, she would have said Clotho. You know what I mean?"

"No," Cassian answered, just as Azriel said, "Of course."

Cassian looked confused and Azriel was starting to think they should just change the topic. He wasn't sure why he was so curious about what Gwyn's life was like away from training. Although she always brought out his curious nature. She was a puzzle. Most noticeably, how could she be so cheerful, after so much pain and trauma?

"That reminds me, if she does decide to move in, you're gonna need to be respectful and not traipse around here half-naked all the time." Nesta leveled her best schoolmarm glare at her now shirtless mate.

"I thought you liked me naked."

"I do, but this will be her home and I want her to be comfortable."

"So. Full naked, all the time. Sweet!" Cassian looked between Nesta and Azriel expecting at least a smirk and sighed when he was met with only silent admonition. "Of course, Nes. I would never want Gwynie uncomfortable. I get it."

Strong Brother loves her too. Like a little sister. She reminds him…

I know of whom he is reminded. Don't say her name. They are not that similar.

Sly Brother sees it. Same brightness. Same joy. An ability to make you laugh. Frequently.

Fine. Maybe that is why I feel so curious. I'm looking out for her. Like a brother. Like Cassian and Rhys.

Hilarious. Incorrect. Borderline delusional.

"That includes wearing a shirt to the kitchen at night," Nesta added with a knowing look and a hint of a smile.

"Wait." Cassian pointed accusatorially at his brother. "Why aren't you warning Az to not get naked in front of Gwyn? He walks around here without a shirt just as much as I do."

"The goal is her comfort, not total sensory deprivation. She's a priestess, not a nun."

"What's a nun?"

"Never mind."

"Is it that you don't think seeing Az half-naked would make her uncomfortable or do you just assume he would have the sense to dress appropriately around her?"

"Both."

Strong Brother is not as dense as people presume. He plays it to his advantage. He is also being civil.

Azriel wasn't sure he wanted to explore the idea of being naked in front of Gwyn, at least not sitting there with Nesta and Cassian watching him ponder.

"Nesta, she probably doesn't want to have dinner in a dining room reeking of your sexual exploits either."

"Noted, Az. How very thoughtful of you to mention it?"

"Maybe I can offer to help her move?" Cassian blurted out, clearly not listening to their exchange.

His brother's face had brightened at his idea.

"I've seen her room. She doesn't have much." Nesta offered with an air of regret, as though realizing that she could have done more for her friend.

"Still. Would make her feel more welcome, don't you think?"

Little Valkyrie will not be comfortable. She wants you to help her move. She is too nervous to ask.

She owns nearly nothing but doesn't want to leave the library alone.

"Let me, brother. I've been down there more than you. Clotho knows me. I can be discreet." Cassian nodded his reluctant agreement, but Azriel could hear him grumbling that it had been his idea in the first place and something about stealing thunder. Whatever that meant.

Azriel's eyes met Nesta's inscrutable stare. She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it with a curt nod.

"I know! I'll hide chocolate in her room instead. Try to top that, brother!"

"Now we're talking, you sexy beast." Nesta beamed at her mate in a way that caused Azriel to shut his eyes tight and flee nearly instantaneously from the room.

***

Azriel had been watching her try to work up the nerve to ask for his help for weeks. It may have been a dick move, but she was just too adorable. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she practiced what she might say.

He didn't hide from her and found himself giving her every opening and opportunity, but something always got in the way. Today it was Emerie. He was fairly sure she was crossing the training ring with that sure stride and determined gleam in her eye, only to be intercepted and cajoled into helping her friend stretch. Azriel chuckled under his breath.

The likelihood of Little Valkyrie asking you herself is slim to none. She is nervous. You should help her. Offer to help her move into the House. Stop toying with her.

I'm not toying with her and you guys underestimate her. This is the priestess who saved all those children by putting herself in harm's way. She never gave them up, no matter what they did to her. She has grit.

She does have grit and you are defensive. You are angry at the accusation. She would save those children again, but she is asking this small thing only for her comfort. We hear her screams in the night. We wipe the cold sweat from her brow as she tosses in damp sheets. She hears the metallic clang of his belt buckle hitting the floor. She sees her sister in pieces. She smells that room in her sleep the same as you.

"Gwyn! Wait up! I've been meaning to talk to you." Azriel followed after the two females in an overly casual trot that only superior athletes ever made look remotely graceful.

"Yes, Shadowsinger? You can't make me do more laps. Training is over for today. The clock says you're no longer the boss of me." Azriel chuckled loudly. Gwyn looked very pleased with herself. Emerie, on the other hand, just looked confused, as though she had just heard a tomcat bark.

You don't laugh enough. You have a lovely laugh. Don't be shy. Little Valkyrie likes making you laugh.

"Not more laps, Priestess. I just thought you could use some help with your move tomorrow."

"Oh? I'm probably ok. I don't own much." Gwyn's face was bright red and Azriel was starting to question his timing. Maybe he should have waited until she was alone. They always seem to converse more freely when they are alone.

"What she means to say is: Thank you, Shadowsinger. That would be wonderful." Emerie was looking directly at her friend as she continued. "Yes, I did just do that, Gwyn. And until you learn to accept the help you need, I'll just keep accepting it for you." Gwyn rolled her eyes and shoved her friend affectionately with her shoulder.

"So it is settled then. Tomorrow after training. We move you into the House of Wind!" Azriel was pretty sure he was grinning.

***

"Are we taking the dresser?" Azriel hoped his tone was neutral given that he was ready to beg her to let him carry the thing. She had to own more clothes than this. He was helping her move and she could have done this in one trip herself. He was feeling very awkward in her private room with nothing to do.

"What? Oh. No. Not the dresser." Gwyn responded but her eyes never left the dresser, like she was afraid it would vanish into mist.

Is there something special about the dresser that I'm missing?

Little Valkyrie does not want you to know.

Why not?

She is ashamed.

Why? Is she hiding something scandalous there?

Bricks.

She is hiding bricks in the dresser?

Just the bottom drawer. The rest is empty.

"I don't think so. I mean, I didn't ask. It isn't really mine. It came with the room." Gwyn continued, but there was a question still in her eyes. "Will there be one in my new room?"

"There is a massive closet in every room in the House of Wind. They have a few built-in drawers that should suffice." Azriel was looking at the few dresses hanging in the closet and still thinking of the empty dresser. Maybe he should take her shopping. Maybe she didn't want to go with him. He could buy her clothes as a surprise. She would look stunning green. He could probably guess her measurements with some careful observation. To his horror, Azriel found his eyes turning to survey her curves as his mouth continued on without him. "You could fit a whole army division in there and nobody would have a clue."

You are babbling. You are terrifying Little Valkyrie.

"Not that there will ever be soldiers hiding in the closet or your room, or in the House of Wind at all, it is very secure. And if anyone tried, we would have more than a clue. Trust me, Gwyn." She still wasn't moving a muscle or saying a word. "I can check it for you, every night if you wish."

"What?! Am I five? Is that why you suggested this whole move to Nesta? So you could check my closet every night for Hybern soldiers?" She snorted with laughter and Azriel was fairly certain he had never heard a more beautiful sound.

"Of course not." Azriel had not been imagining checking her closet for her until that very moment and there was very little he wouldn't agree to do for her.

"So it was your idea?" Gwyn's face was smug.

"That was a guess? You didn't know it was me?" Azriel was surprised that she had tricked him, but mostly he was proud.

"Of course not, your little bestie Nesta would never rat you out. Why suggest it though?"

"I thought you were ready. Don't you?" Azriel deflected.

"Sure. But…" She wasn't going to let this go and he knew it.

"I figured if Nesta agreed, then she could mention it to you. And if she didn't, then I'd leave it alone. It wasn't my place to interfere anyway." Gwyn looked disappointed in his response for some reason.

"It doesn't really matter. If I need a dresser, I`ll just ask the House. The House loves me."

"Who doesn't, Berdara?" He needed to get control of his mouth or get out of that damn room and away from her piercing teal eyes and pouty bottom lip.

"I guess that is one of the benefits of moving into a sentient house, right? No possibility of a home invasion."

Her casual tone clanged in his ears and he looked back at the dresser one more time. His eyes finally fell on the years of scratches carved into the floor. He could picture it then. His favorite priestess pushing that beat-up old dresser in front of her bedroom door. The drawer of bricks adding heft and the security she craved so she could try and fail to sleep.

He was sorry then. Sorry for being too late to save her from their hands. Sorry for making her wait for his offer of help. Sorry that she wasn't going to let him carry her brick-laden dresser up all those flights of stairs. Sorry that he would never be enough for those for whom he cared so deeply.

You have no penance to pay. You are enough. Take the small box of her things that she is offering. Step forward with her. Climb the stairs home.

"Did you remember to actually invite Gwyn to dinner?"

Azriel gave Nesta a confirming nod from the other side of the dining room table. As usual, the House had set the table for only three. Nesta sat directly across from Az, with Cassian always to Nesta's left. Azriel usually found the House's dedication to the formal seating arrangements of mates infuriating. He had even tried to circumvent tradition once or twice only to have his plate, and every scrap of food, vanish. Tonight he was having enough fun that the detail barely registered. Azriel didn't have to even glance over at Cassian to know that he was also stifling a laugh as his mate tried and failed to get information out of his brother.

"The priestesses eat insanely early, Az. Did you know that? Did you tell her that we eat at seven and she should meet us here?"

Another slow, expressionless nod.

"You did see her today, right? You helped her move this afternoon?" Nod.

"Did she say she would come?" Nesta was nearly shouting and Azriel found it nothing short of delightful. He liked his brother's mate - respected her even, but Azriel wasn't above a little petty revenge when an opportunity presented itself. After this afternoon, he could use a bit of cheer.

Before he could grace her with another of his apparently infuriating nods, a new place setting appeared on the table just to the right of Azriel's own. Nesta huffed a sigh and slouched back in her chair, but Azriel found himself getting slightly nervous. Gwyn would be joining them after all, but Azriel wasn't sure he remembered the place settings being quite so close together in the past. Would Gwyn be comfortable with him so near?

Little Valkyrie speaks her mind. She is extremely easy to read. If she is uncomfortable, you will know. Assuming you pay attention.

A moment later, Gwyn burst through the door with a light sheen of sweat on her brow. Azriel noticed she was still wearing her priestess robes, but they looked oddly wrinkled. As though they had spent the majority of the afternoon in a pile on her floor. They were also strangely lumpy around her middle.

You are staring at Little Valkyrie's hips. Not the attention to which we were referring.

Then tell me what I'm seeing so I can stop staring at her body. You're gonna want to hurry, Shadows. She"ll notice any minute. You wouldn't want her uncomfortable at her first dinner, now would you?

Shadowsinger is bluffing. Badly. You would rather die than make her uncomfortable. Little Valkyrie is just nervous. Priestess robes felt inappropriate. She tried each option in her closet. Twice. Little Valkyrie wears her leathers underneath. She plans to train after dinner. She hopes you will join her. Little Valkyrie has enjoyed your other lessons. Your presence calms her. She is not currently calm.

"There she is!" Cassian bellowed just as Azriel felt his throat constrict at their words. This was the most the shadows had ever told him about Gwyn's private thoughts or actions, particularly as they applied to him. Did he really calm her? It must be true, but how? She had seen him kill before. Not just kill, but the full face of his rage.

He heard Cassian continue to tease Gwyn's tardiness, but his mind wandered back to that damn dresser and her four dresses. She’d stayed in her room all afternoon "unpacking". Shit. How could she stand to be so confined? She’d been in the library for years and locking herself up at night. His skin crawled with intense claustrophobia. Memories of his time in that cage bubbled up to the surface and threatened his good mood and appetite. How could she sleep like that? He needed the air. Elain was more like him. She hated to be inside and loved her garden under the open sky.

Middle Sister sleeps inside, behind closed doors just like most people. Little Valkyrie seeks the night air the same as you. People can do what they must do, without wishing or wanting it to be.

"I'll be leaving for a few days to the Hewn City. I"ll miss training, so anyone who wants to train tonight should feel free to join me after dinner."

"I'm in!" Gwyn blurted barely before Azriel had a chance to finish. At Nesta's smirk, Gwyn continued. "I'm just a bit nervous in the new room." The confession brought color to her cheeks, and Azriel was ready for the deflection when it came. "So, what are we having for dinner?"

"The House serves you whatever it wishes to serve you, but it might have special rules for you, Priestess." Just as the words left Azriel's mouth, food appeared on each of their plates. Steak and smashed new potatoes for Cassian and Nesta. Though hers included a fragrant drizzle of fresh herbs, chilis, and oil. Fish and greens for Azriel and Gwyn. He was stunned.

"Ooh. I love fish! I don't recognize this at all though." Gwyn beamed, but Azriel couldn't speak.

"You wouldn't," Cassian explained. "It is an Illyrian carp and from the look of it I’d say it is fresh from the mountain streams. I haven't seen this in ages." His eyes darted toward Azriel for a brief second before continuing. "I had no idea the House could even make it. It is a very healthy choice though, particularly if you plan to train afterward." Cassian tried to smile but his eyes were somber as he dared a long look at his brother.

When Azriel finally spoke his voice was soft but failed to hide the emotions roiling inside him. "The fish is first rubbed with a heavy mix of earthy spices and buttermilk before being grilled whole. The wilted greens are mixed with lentils for additional protein and with roasted garlic for flavor, but still very fresh and bright." Azriel lifted his plate to his face to smell the aroma with admiration and care. He shook his head as though to lift a fog before continuing. "We shouldn't let it get cold. The House truly does honor you tonight, Gwyn."

Azriel's heart couldn't take it. Why did the House seat her so close to him and serve her his favorite dish? Was it determined to wring the last drop of sentimentality from his battered heart?

Little Valkyrie is watching you.

Azriel gave her an encouraging nod toward her plate and froze as he heard a small intimate moan escape her lips at her first, apparently extremely satisfying, bite of grilled fish.

The House is not punishing you with this memory, Shadowsinger. If Little Valkyrie is yours and ours, then we are hers as well. It is right that she know you. It is not a punishment to be seen. Neither was The Lady Mother of Night punishing you when she made this dish every year to celebrate your birth. The only punishment was saved for your brothers for grumbling about the pin bones. She sent them to the icy streams to catch the fish themselves.

Azriel took a bite and finally allowed himself a small smile both at the taste and at the memory of his soaking-wet brothers returning to the warm kitchen hearth with their catch. Cassian seemed to ease at the sight of his brother's calm. Conversation flowed easily for the four of them throughout the rest of dinner, as though Azriel had not just been handed back a piece of his heart, missing for too long.

***

Once their dinner had settled and tiny cups of a strong peppermint tea sweetened with rock sugar gave them a boost of warmth and energy, Azriel led Gwyn through their well-known warmup in companionable silence.

"Will we be working on dagger skills today, Shadowsinger?" As usual, Gwyn was the first to speak.

"Will that be of the most use to you, Priestess?" He couldn't help but test her. When he heard his title fall from her lips, he always felt the challenge in her tone and he answered her right back. He watched her consider his non-answer question. In truth, he was happy to work on whatever she wanted, but he was also curious to see what she thought of her progress and what she saw as her current weaknesses. As usual, he was not emotionally prepared for her response.

"No. I'm comfortable with a blade. Thanks to you, that is." She sketched a comical bow in his direction, which he was happy to return as she continued with her self-assessment. "I will get the most benefit from your time if you teach me how to escape from some of the more advanced holds. Particularly, those of a much larger male who may come upon me by surprise."

They were back to that damn dresser again. He was pretty sure he was going to start having nightmares when it came to life and tried to swallow him whole or chuck bricks at his head.

"Holds and escapes require grappling, Gwyneth. I will have to grab you."

"You don't say? That truly hadn't occurred to me, Azriel. I thought we were out here so you can draw me some pretty diagrams. Preferably in the dirt. With a nice stick." His hesitance melted quickly away at her sarcasm and the challenge in her smirk.

"Are you always this irreverent, Gwyn?"

"Are you suggesting I should revere you, Az?"

"It wouldn't hurt." He grumbled.

"It wouldn't stop the hurt either." Her response was barely a whisper.

"The more you talk, the easier it is to imagine attacking you."

"You're welcome. Now, where should we start?"

There she was. He saw her so clearly sometimes. A warrior tired of living afraid. To whatever extent she wanted his help, he would always give it.

Half an hour of grappling found them near the water station. Azriel's right arm clamped tightly across her chest and shoulders and her feet dangled just above the ground. His wide stance meant that she was having trouble connecting with his shins. His left hand was nonchalantly holding a glass of water, adding insult to injury was one of his specialties. Her ensuing curses meant he was having more fun than he had imagined when she first asked for this lesson. He was also pretty sure that the way she was twisting her head meant that she was still trying to bite his forearm. This first part of the lesson was about not underestimating how far she needed to advance in her training and when brute force wouldn't help her. She would have to outsmart her attacker in this situation and that was a skill she already had at her disposal. Just not against him.

"Speaking of reverence. I'm surprised someone of your age and stature would take such obvious glee at besting a novice. I'm barely more than a child compared to you."

"That is absurd. You're no child, Gwyn." He hadn't intended to rasp in her ear. Did she just shudder?

"Says the male who offered to check my closet at night." Did she just snort? How can one female be so confusing?

"Now, put me down and finally get on with teaching me how to outsmart a massive brute like yourself."

***

Hewn City was everything Azriel always hated about the world and himself. The shadows muffled his steps as he passed Gwyn's door on the way to his own. He hadn't asked them to do that. If he could have winnowed directly to his room, he would have. It must mean that she is in there and alert for the sounds of an intruder. At least he knew she was safe and he didn't have to worry that his presence was making her night more terrifying. The shadows had been right. He’d rather die than make her uncomfortable.

As the door clicked behind him, he started to shed bits of gear making his way slowly to the bathing chamber. The only sound that could be heard was that of running water and Azriel was not sure if it was the shadows or the House coming to his aid. His mind snagged on that detail. Would the House help him? Had it been helping him all along when he just assumed it was the shadows? A gauntlet fell from his hands but made no sounds as a shadow carried it gently to a more appropriate resting place than the middle of his floor.

Even Truthteller fell carelessly and silently from his grasp tonight. He stood naked at the tub as tears finally made streaks through the grime on his face and neck. The last of his clothing had been slowly removed. The steam from the bath had an overpowering briny smell that wrapped around him and drowned out the memories of the last few days. He slipped gratefully beneath the surface, but the stillness and the silence chased him from the bath as soon as he was clean. Azriel climbed naked into his empty bed. His thoughts were already muddled from physical exhaustion and the taste of real fear.

Don't leave me alone. Don't leave me in this silence.

We are here. You are not alone. You are loved. You are safe.

It was then that Azriel heard the faint call of ocean waves lapping on soft sand. The rhythm was so close to his own heartbeat that the waves seemed to be rocking inside his chest. He was asleep in mere moments. His dreams were nothing more than a wide expanse teaming with underwater life. Shafts of rippling sunlight from the surface fell on swirling schools of glittering fish.

They welcomed him as one of their own and he swam until dawn.

"There she is! A little slow out the gate today, Red?" Azriel heard his brother bellow across the training ring. He didn't allow his face to show any of the annoyance he felt at Cassian's words. Everyone knew she hated that particular nickname. He wasn't sure why. Her hair was one of his favorite things about her.

One of many. Most go well beyond just her looks.

Don't sound so shocked.

"Try me, Cass." Azriel watched Gwyn tie her hair back casually, but there was a distinct challenge in her tone and the steel in her gaze. They had been training hard and some part of him knew that it had been building toward today.

Little Valkyrie is ready.

Cassian will best her, but she will make him earn his win today.

As he predicted, Gwyn had been able to surprise Cassian several times, although his experience won out eventually. Still, it was a good long match and fun to watch. He knew she would be disappointed, but he would make sure she knew he was proud of her.

Azriel was just turning back to his own charges when he felt, more than saw, the knee land in the delicate curve of Gwyn's lower back. In all their late-night practices, he had never pinned her in such a terrifyingly familiar manner. He had spared them both that horrific memory. The small part of her beautiful face that was not being crushed into the training mat was mottled with undeniable rage.

Azriel felt a deep panic slide beneath his ribs. His voice tried to call out, but the roar building inside him seemed to steal every scrap of air. He felt that roar course along the marrow inside his very bones. Something violent and dangerous was calling out to be born and released upon the world.

Gwyn unleashed a scream that started deep in her throat, a predatory snarl. Shock and fear stole every sound from the world, save one. "I said NO!"

Cassian fell back onto the mat, frozen in confusion, concern, and obvious shame. He should have known better, but it was easy for the others to forget that Gwyn's radiance was the most miraculous display of sheer will.

Little Valkyrie has a blade. She is not herself. Her eyes do not see. Her heart seeks vengeance.

Within seconds, Azriel was directly at her side. Even as he clamped his biceps firmly around her vibrating body and removed the knife from his brother's throat, he couldn't stop wondering how he had been able to winnow. He couldn't have.

The House had brought him to Gwyn. To save her. This time from herself. He had held her this way a dozen times since they started training in private. But instead of twisting to bite his arm. Her whole body went limp at his touch and her snarls turned to quiet sobs. Suddenly, they were alone and he could taste the relief washing over his tongue. She hadn't hurt anyone. She could heal from this.

Azriel stroked her arms and her hair. His wings and shadows wrapped around them. Utterly warm. Utterly safe and untethered from everything but each other.

"It's just me, Gwyn. I've got you. They are all dead and long gone. It is just me. I've got you. I will stay with you. Always. Rest, Gwyn. You're safe. I've got you. Rest, Gwyn." His words were barely a whisper as he rocked her in a slow mesmerizing rhythm. At his thought, the shadows parted to offer the barest glimpse of the blue sky above.

"The sun is shining, Gwyn. They are dead and gone, love. Stay with me here. You are safe. Rest. The sun is shining. You are safe."

Her sobs quieted and Azriel felt her heart slow as he lifted her in his arms. The shadows settled around his ankles and covered the ground as a dense fog trailing along the ground as he marched slowly to her room. Nesta and Emerie fell into step behind him at some point, but he didn't register their presence until he entered her room. The shadows blanketed Gwyn as Azriel placed her carefully onto her bed.

"Her leathers are soaked with stale sweat. Try to help her change, but stop immediately if she becomes agitated. It could be too soon after the memory. It is worth trying though. The smell of the sweat and the leathers could be doing more harm than your light touch might." Azriel inhaled as he spoke and tried not to turn green at the memory of her assault. "I will get some warm water and a cloth from the bathing chamber and then step into the hall while you work."

At his word, a bowl of warm water and a small cloth appeared on the bedside table with a tiny clink. He noticed the House had also thought to scent the water with strong, soothing lavender and to provide a bottle of medicinal tonic.

"Thank you." His whisper of thanks was cut off suddenly by Gwyn's whimpers. She thrashed about for a moment as she jammed her hands between her legs, covering her sex protectively. Her eyes flew open and locked with his gaze immediately.

"I can still feel him." She spat the words through gritted teeth.

His hands stilled mid-reach and her face softened significantly as her eyes fell to his hands and slightly unfocused. She clasped her hands around his, turning them this way and that as she studied them curiously.

"How can something so tortured be so exquisite?" Gwyn placed one of his hands against her wet cheek. She never saw the shock wash over Azriel's face, as her eyes drifted closed again. "In them, I am incapable of fear."

As Gwyn relaxed into a peaceful sleep, Azriel's gaze turned imploringly toward Nesta. She made her way to his side and slid her hand undetected into Gwyn's grasp. At her encouraging nod, he slid his hand out and backed away dazed.

Azriel barely made it into the bathing chamber before falling to his knees with bile surging up his throat. Eyes watering and nostrils burning, he felt Emerie place a cold cloth on the back of his neck.

"She's going to be ok. Eventually. She's stronger than this looks, Az." He tried to nod, but his stomach wasn't done spewing his breakfast unceremoniously into the sink.

By the time he was cleaned up, Nesta and Emerie had her medicated and clean.

Little Valkyrie sleeps soundly. The tonic was well-crafted and strong. Enough to ensure she rests for the remainder of the day and through the night. You must rest. You are spent. We will stay with her.

Despite the assurances, Azriel was prepared to stand watch over her until she woke. Nesta must have sensed it because she took him by the arm and led him quietly out of the bedroom. As he made his way numbly down the hall, the only thing that registered was the sound of that old dresser appearing suddenly on the other side of her bedroom door. He muttered his thanks, not knowing if he was thanking the House or the shadows.

What he did know at that moment, beyond any doubt, was that for the first time in his long life, a beat-up old dresser was the only thing standing between him and absolute terror.

***

"I need your help, Shadowsinger."

Dammit! Are you guys just going to keep letting her sneak up on me like this?

Yes.

"A science experiment of sorts." Gwyn clarified with a touch of trepidation in her tone. Hopefully, she had not misread his irritated expression.

And if she does think I'm angry at her, it would be your fault completely.

Clearly. Since we are the ones unable to control our faces all of a sudden?

You don't have faces.

If that is our excuse, what is yours? Or are we still not thinking too hard about that one?

"Well, you certainly have my attention, Priestess." Azriel tried to smile encouragingly and hoped he didn't look like a damn fool. He couldn't just sit here debating with the shadows all day. Plus, they had hit a nerve as usual.

Azriel was surprised to see her shut his office door before continuing. Privacy was not usually necessary between them and he was more than a little intrigued by what she had in her mind to talk about today.

It had been weeks since they had trained, but the initial awkwardness from her flashback had eventually worn off. It didn't seem as though she recalled much from that day and his shadows confirmed that the House had vanished the dresser before she woke. The gift was for his benefit and not hers, which was another thing that he was trying hard not to overanalyze. Although, a potential truce with the House was not a minor alliance.

"You correct my form and help me overcome challenges in the ring. I want to return to training, but I owe it to the rest of the trainees and Cassian, in particular, to try to overcome my physical triggers, so that mess doesn't happen again." A solid opening statement, and one that seemed well practiced.

"Cassian has cleared you to return and accepted your apology. Publicly, I might add, as per your request."

"I can't return in good faith until I have a plan in place to ensure that I'm not a danger to others."

"Training is dangerous. We are training you TO BE a danger to others." Azriel countered. He had no idea why he was arguing with her, but the privacy was making him nervous.

"I won't have people pulling punches and there can't be special rules for how someone is allowed to grab me. While flying into a homicidal rage on the battlefield might be considered a plus, I won't be able to perfect my techniques if nobody will train with me." She was right, of course.

"I will always train with you, Gwyn."

Azriel hoped she caught the truth in his words, even if he was uncomfortable with the amount of raw emotion he heard in his voice. His concern over the tenderness of the moment evaporated at her next words.

"Of course, you will. You have a death wish."

How could the same person make him inexplicably nervous and yet put him so thoroughly at ease? Her wit was something he had to fight to keep up with, and she was constantly surprising him with her words and sometimes just her presence. But beyond the unique effort it took to just keep up with how fast her brain worked and how much she saw, talking to Gwyn was as easy as breathing.

Are you asking us?

I am not.

"I do not have a death wish," Azriel countered with genuine amusement.

"Fine. A fetish, whatever, that isn't my point."

Hearing Gwyn say the word "fetish" was not helping his nerves whatsoever and that whole "easy as breathing" thing from a moment ago was starting to become noticeably more difficult.

"I just mean that we are a team. And that is why I'm here." Gwyn stated plainly as she retrieved a notebook from her bag and flipped open to her notes.

"By all means, proceed." Azriel offered her the floor as he leaned back in his chair and tented his hands in his lap. This was going to be fun.

"I need you to touch me." She can't mean it. That wasn't the fun he was prepared for at that particular moment.

Focus.

"I mean, I've tried to do it myself and it just doesn't work. I can't get the same reaction from my body." If this turned out to be some nasty prank, Azriel was sure that he would never fully recover the scraps of mental health he'd managed to maintain over the centuries.

"It doesn't? I mean, you can't?" Azriel knew he was using a voice usually reserved for coaxing reluctant witnesses, but he needed her to keep talking. He needed to not get ahead of himself, even as flashes of exactly how he would set about helping her ran through his head. He needed to know why she felt like he was the one she needed for this. What was she imagining for the two of them?

"Maybe you should talk to Nesta or I could send for one of the healers, maybe they have.."

"Good heavens! I'm not asking you to help me orgasm, you giant, winged pervert. Although, you're not wrong. That doesn't work either, but that's not the conversation I'm having with you right now." Gwyn glanced back to her notes, clearly nervous. Was it possible to be equal parts relieved and disappointed?

Yes. It is.

Is she implying that we will be discussing orgasms at some future date? It sounded like...

Focus.

"Then what are we talking about, Priestess, and can you explain it to me without calling me names?" Azriel returned to his previous contemplative stance, which immediately put both of them at ease. At least they were back to more familiar territory.

"I'm not suggesting a romantic tryst. I would never presume any willingness on your part or abuse or risk our friendship in that way.

Interesting. A tryst.

You would think so, yes. Now focus.

"But I need to learn to keep my head when I feel physically threatened. I have hit a series of roadblocks that are now hindering my training and I need assistance in overcoming them. Just as I have done with everything else you've thrown at us so far. I can't threaten myself. So I need someone to help me become accustomed to maintaining my wits despite some uncomfortable physical triggers. I want to work systematically and in a controlled environment, and you meet all the necessary criteria."

Gwyn finally took a breath. Training. This was about training. He was such a moron.

"I do?" Azriel invited her to explain, unwilling to relinquish the chance to hear her describe his attributes. Maybe he would get some of this self-esteem back after misunderstanding her so painfully.

"You do." Great. Now she decides to be reticent.

"Such as?"

"You're male, you're massive, and you're terrifying. At least to normal people." She countered with no small amount of smugness.

Massive? She has no idea.

Gross. Focus.

Give me this one win, please. I'm very fucking focused. You can stop saying that.

"Are you not normal?" Oh, Gwyn.

"Of course not, I almost killed Cassian because I didn't know who he was and he was too kind or too appalled to fight back. And, if you haven't caught on yet, I'm basically asking you to assault me privately in our spare time. So, yeah, I've given up on normal. I'm just trying to be the happiest little freak I can be. With your help, of course."

Gwyn beamed at him. She knew he couldn't counter the "happiest little freak" argument. Especially since the happiness part of that particular equation had escaped him for five centuries. He just might learn to love science after all.

***

Azriel was deep in thought on one of the more secluded balconies at the House of Wind. Dinner was long done. Dishes were cleared. Gwyn and Nesta had retired to one of the smaller libraries for a reading session. Probably smut. The thought of which was not helping him clear his head at all.

He thought about trying to train but knew that he would find Gwyn there eventually and he wasn't sure if she expected to start their experiment. He still hadn't wrapped his mind around how readily he agreed to her idea and what it could mean for him to participate in such a thing.

Initially, he had only thought to help her. He knew he could deny her nothing, but this would cost him. He had grabbed her before without mercy as a warrior might on a battlefield, but not as that fucking monster. Azriel had dominated lovers before and tortured prisoners for information. What he had agreed to do for Gwyn would be a form of torture for both of them. The idea of holding her down in even an imitation of the type of violence she endured had haunted him these last few days.

He knew this had nothing in common with the type of domination he could admit that he thoroughly enjoyed with females. Azriel would give her little bits of his soul every time he pretended to try to take her against her will. Did he have enough soul left to spare? Did that even matter when it came to Gwyn?

Strong Brother approaches. He brings whisky. He needs to talk. Sly Brother suggested it and sent the drink himself.

The shadows interrupted his thoughts just moments before Cassian entered the balcony carrying two glasses of amber liquid. From the smell, it wasn't just from Rhys. It was his private reserve. Azriel couldn't bring himself to smile. His mind was too full and confused.

"A look like that could get you in a world of trouble, brother."

"It isn't what you think."

"You think I don't know about Elain?"

"I deserve that, but it isn't Elain."

"Not any more or just not now?"

"You after my job, brother?"

"Mor then?" Azriel was surprised by the casual reference, but his face showed none of it.

"I'm thinking of Gwyn." She hadn't asked him to keep it a secret and it was a form of training. He really could use some advice. Who better than Cassian? Plus, maybe it would keep them off whatever topic he and Rhys wanted discussed.

It is not sinister. Little Valkyrie's pain is shared by many. Brothers need each other. Sly Brother misses you, but his time is even less his own now.

"Shit. That was fast."

"That I don't deserve." Azriel's back stiffened. "And again, it isn't what you think. She's asked me to help her get over her flashbacks. She wants to come back to training."

"How?"

"Triggering her physically and on purpose."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"You ok with that? Touching her like that?"

"No, but I just have to think of it like training. You sweep the leg that you know they are not blocking to teach them to block. They fall. It hurts. They learn. But making her think of that day? Filling the shoes of that fucking monster?"

"She would not have asked if she didn't trust you. It is probably the fact that you could never be her monster that makes this even possible."

"You know she feels the same about you."

"No. She doesn't. And that's ok. She has apologized and even that wasn't necessary." Azriel had nothing to say to that. "I'm sorry I said it was fast. You didn't deserve that. Plus, you've known her for years. You two have a connection."

"I met her years ago. I wouldn't say I've known her for years."

"Are you denying a connection?"

"No. She's special to me."

"Like Elain?"

"No. I'm not pursuing Gwyn, brother. And pursuing Elain was a mistake."

"Because of Rhys and the politics involved?"

"No. Rhys was right to interfere. I know his heart. He would go to war for my happiness. We have both served a dictator and Rhys is not his father."

"Cheers to that!"

"Elain wanted to go away together. To start a new life."

"So why are you here?"

"Everyone I love is here." Azriel's lip twitched before he continued. "Plus, she said she had no interest in rutting in the dirt like some beast."

"That's downright xenophobic." Cassian's words brought a fine mist of whiskey from his brother's throat along with a deep belly laugh. "I'm serious. To an Illyrian, that is practically our religion. Plus, the only part about being Illyrian that you don't hate. That and the carp." They both quieted at the mention of the meal. After a few moments, Cassian asked quietly without looking at his brother.

"How were you able to winnow to her that day, to get to the blade?"

"I didn't. I think it must have been the House itself."

"Shit. Have you asked yourself why?"

"I'm trying really hard not to do that, brother."

"I can see why."

After an afternoon of pointless meetings, Azriel's return to the House of Wind was met with the lively echo of music and raucous female laughter from the kitchen. Such a change from the lifelessness and constant grief of just a few years ago.

Winged Victory and Her Mistress Morrigan have joined the others for dinner. They are attempting to cook.

Hers?

Obviously.

Good for them. The others being?

Lady Death and her mate are there. As is our Little Valkyrie.

Our?

Obviously. We are hers, as she is ours.

It's a good thing she can't hear you talking like that.

It's a good thing you can hear us talking like that.

You say that like I'm hopeless.

We still have hope.

Somehow his misfit group of Housemates had managed to make the enormous airy kitchen feel tiny as Cassian and Emerie were attempting to demonstrate an intricate Illyrian war dance meant to be done by dozens of people around a massive bonfire.

Speaking of hopelessness.

What you see is happiness, Shadowsinger. Join them.

Music was playing loudly and wine flowed freely. Azriel watched Gwyn even more closely than usual. They had trained the last three nights. Each time Azriel had prepared his heart to become the monster she needed. Each time Gwyn had requested one more refresher of her near-immaculate dagger skills. The night before, as they bid one another goodnight, she had declared her stalling over.

Was she nervous? Would they go through with this plan? Azriel watched her get jostled by the dancers and nearly spill her goblet of wine. She hopped up onto the counter next to Nesta, but slid off immediately and more awkwardly than he had ever seen her graceful form move.

"That marble is freezing, Nesta. How can you stand it?" She even rubbed her backside for emphasis, but Azriel knew it for the lie it was. "I'm going to head to my room. I ate earlier with some of the priestesses."

Another lie.

"See you tomorrow." She spoke to the room, but her eyes locked with Azriel.

Not tonight then. He noticed a shadow follow her down the hall unbidden. As he trained alone in the ring, it reported back that a new dresser was blocking her door and an empty sleeping tonic sat near her bed.

***

"Last chance to back out, Shadowsinger." Gwyn practically sang as she entered the training area one week later and Azriel wondered, not for the first time if the bravado was real or a way to put them both at ease for tonight's events. But he didn't feel at ease in the slightest.

"I'm here, aren't I, Priestess? If I was uncomfortable, I never would have agreed to this in the first place." Azriel responded knowing he sounded cross. He had been reluctant, but she shouldn't know that. Not just because he didn't want her to be offended, but because he had tried his best to hide his feelings from her. He wasn't used to being so transparent to others, but he was finally getting somewhat used to it with Gwyn.

"I wonder if that is true, but that's your work to do, not mine. Although maybe we can get to that once we fix me." Gwyn mused aloud almost to herself.

"You don't need fixing." Azriel demanded.

"You know what I meant." Gwyn waved her hand dismissively.

"Words are important, Gwyn." Azriel added and hoped it sounded like sage advice. She was so young, but he couldn't let her think that she was broken.

"Fine. I understand that you have bad memories from that day as well and that I'm asking you to play my monster, even though it will cost you to do that, so if you have changed your mind since we spoke or at any point moving forward, I want you to say so and we stop." Gwyn countered with an irreverence he usually found endearing, but a clarity that shocked him. He had never felt more seen. While his failure to hide his feelings from her was obviously unnerving, it was the relief that surprised him the most. "Communication is important here in our little partnership, experiment, whatever. Maybe you know what to call it, Word Wizard." Gwyn teased.

"I'm not a wizard." Azriel shot back.

"You'd look good with a beard though." Gwyn smiled and a dreamy expression came over her face.

"Focus, Gwyn." Azriel reined her in as usual. Her whimsy was infectious.

"Ok. I'm not asking you to BE my monster. You're not going to hurt me physically or at least not much. I'm just asking you to help me. And I know I can ask that because I fundamentally trust you."

"Ok then, where do we start? Should I grab your shoulder from behind?" Azriel started to reach for her nervously.

"Eventually. We will need to get to that point, but let's build up to that, shall we? Maybe that will be the final exam? Although, I guess we won't know the end until we get there." Gwyn added almost tauntingly as she walked backward toward the water station arms stretched wide in invitation.

"Fair enough, Priestess"

"First. The table." Gwyn huffed without much enthusiasm. Azriel knew exactly what she meant.

"The table it is then." Azriel agreed as he gently removed the water pitcher and glasses before dragging the table to a more secluded corner of the training ring. Gwyn flipped open her notebook, marked a new page with the title Day One, and walked confidently to Az and that damn table.

***

They had started simply enough and Azriel was recalling the session as he flew Gwyn down to the River House for family dinner the following night.

Gwyn had placed her own body on the table in a position that was nothing like how he found her years ago. She let her back relax across the top, her legs dangle off the edge, and kept her knees closed. Her arms rested at her sides and her eyes squeezed shut. Azriel listened closely to her heartbeats and approached the table in as hulking and menacing a manner as he could muster with Gwyn.

As she became agitated, they'd decided on how long he should wait before stepping back, increasing the time with each attempt. They'd worked up to Azriel standing over her for nearly ten minutes with one hand pressing firmly down on the front of her upper arm. She'd sweat profusely and her breathing had been shallow, but she'd gotten through it. A solid first attempt that didn't actually cost him any of his soul. Perhaps this would all be okay.

"This is amazing, Shadowsinger! I feel so free up here." His breath caught in his chest and his heart ached as she continued. "It's like swimming in clear cold water!"

Azriel had barely trusted his voice to speak as they entered the River House. The four Housemates took their usual seating arrangement at one end of the table, with the addition of Emerie taking a place at the head of the table directly across from Rhysand. Azriel sat to Emerie's right with Gwyn next to him with Nesta and Cassian directly across the table. Mor was next to Gwyn with Elain in the last spot on their side. Across from Mor was Lucien, though he rarely spoke when he attended family dinners, and Feyre to his left in the last spot next to Rhys. Amren was absent tonight and Azriel didn't want to think about what she and her new lover were doing.

Elain still refused to sit next to Lucien, though Azriel took no happiness from that fact anymore. At least in this arrangement, he couldn't see her or Mor very clearly and he hoped that would keep some awkwardness at bay. He couldn't have been more pleased to be at the end of the table snickering with his misfits and enjoying a fine meal.

"Emerie, are you seeing anyone currently?" Feyre's voice cut through the chatter around the table and Azriel smirked from his place next to Em.

"Excuse me, High Lady?"

"It is Feyre, Emerie. I've told you that before. It really is okay. I'm just asking because I have this wonderful male in one of my painting classes and I think he would be an amazing dinner companion to the right female."

"Oh, he doesn't sound like my type at all. No offense, Feyre." The name still didn't exactly roll off of her tongue, but she was at least trying. Gwyn was still working up to making eye contact.

"How can you say that? You don't know anything about him!"

"I know he is a male."

Most of his friends burst out laughing, but Feyre blushed brilliantly. Lucien and Mor enjoyed a smirk each, the former at his friend's embarrassment and the latter just sipped her wine calculating. Elain just seemed confused.

"What about you, Gwyn?" This time the voice was Rhysand's. Azriel glared and shouted his thoughts down the long table and into his brother's face.

"How could you even think to suggest such a thing, brother? You of all people know what she has been through."

"She deserves a chance at love and mind-blowing sex the same as any person. Don't victimize her further. Don't take more away from her than has already been taken, brother."

"Are you actually High Fae then, Gwyn?" Elain's voice cut through Azriel's nauseating shame.

Could this dinner get more awkward? I was having a lot of fun before.

Our Little Valkyrie doesn't mind. She is naturally very comfortable in her skin. She struggles sometimes, but not with her heritage.

If I had my way, her whole life would flow this easily.

We still have hope.

"You just seem different from everyone else, but you're obviously not Illyrian."

"You can say smell, Elain. I mean, if you're gonna ask a person what they are, you can say that they smell different. I'm not offended." Gwyn said encouragingly, and Azriel remembered that the priestesses were trained to put people at ease in tense situations. It seemed to work on the entire table.

"I'm one quarter river nymph from Spring. Although I didn't inherit much in the way of their magic or notorious bloodlust."

"Like those horrible things that Nesta had to fight?" Elain looked appalled.

"Gwyn is more a playful river otter than a wraith, Elain. I would know." Nesta chimed in and Azriel was pleased to see her protective side emerging in defense of her chosen sister. Plus, she was right. Gwyn was absolutely a playful otter.

"Maybe we have a wraith as a distant cousin on my mother's side. But, Nesta, don't discount river otters. They are fierce creatures, I'll have you know. And they are carnivores."

"But they are so snuggly and adorable!" Emerie added.

"I don't see how looks would matter to a fish. Mangy mountain bear or cute river otter. Dead is dead."

"So you're saying you could be dangerous, Gwyn." Elain seemed less shocked and more shrewd at this point. Azriel wasn't sure he had seen this side of her, but he was sure that it wasn't pretty.

"To a fish? When I'm hungry? Definitely. I have very quick hands, you see." Gwyn mimicked darting her hands into the water to catch an imaginary fish swimming right above her plate and laughed comfortably along with her friends.

Azriel had a strong instinct to hold one of those tiny hands in his own in solidarity and in appreciation for her wonderful ability to make hard things feel simple.

"In fact, if the House keeps feeding me carp, I might just start sprouting a nice coat of very soft fur."

Azriel felt Rhys tense down the table. "My mother… Nevermind. It isn't important. Continue, Gwyn." His eyes found Azriel's questioning.

"You say you didn't inherit from that side, how could you be sure though?" Elain was verging on confrontational, especially for someone who values social propriety so much. The look on Nesta's face confirmed that she agreed.

"Easy. We are tested. At the temple. Before we receive our invoking stones. The stones carry healing magic and are bonded to a bearer, sort of the same way a Siphon works. Each must be tested. My sister had more nymph in her and I think if either of us had some dangerous killer instinct, well… I'll just say that things might have turned out very differently for both of us."

Elain's eyes lowered and the mood sobered. The blush on Elain's cheek confirmed that she had remembered her infamous kindness at last. Thankfully, she deflected the conversation to something much more civil.

"I've never even been swimming myself. Sounds terrifying though." Of all people, it was Lucien's gaze that she sought for companionable conversation. "Just some big expanse of freezing water. I feel so cozy in the garden with soft grass under my feet and surrounded by vines and flowers."

"I know exactly what you mean. In Spring, there was a bower that was my retreat for reading. Very comforting to be surrounded by vegetation. Everything around you is humming with life and warmth."

Elain beamed back at her mate as though he had just confirmed her most private joy and saved her from a dreadful social blunder.

Azriel couldn't help himself. He brushed his knuckles against Gwyn's strong but delicate hand, which she had just been rubbing nervously on her thigh. They were more alike than he had ever realized. He had the shadows as a comfortable barrier between him and the world. She had her dresser. They had shared the dresser once, and he was more than willing to share the shadows if it helped her find the freedom to swim and fly into the wider world beyond.

When she looked up at the touch, he gave her an encouraging smile and nod. For once, he hoped it told her all his truths. That he was proud of her and that he would be at her side always.

***

They had opted to continue their experiment in place of training that night after dinner.

That one had been more difficult. Not because he felt more like a monster, but because she had been so physically close to his body and he wasn't emotionally prepared for it. He could smell her hair and feel the heat of her body. She had also been more at ease and it had been harder to frighten her. He had struggled to keep his instincts at bay and had called an end to the session much earlier than either had expected. The last thing she needed was for him to get aroused.

As he drifted off to sleep that night, he told himself that he just needed to clear his head, to put some space between them, and he would be more in control of himself tomorrow. He would be what she needed him to be. As he slept, his mind wandered back to the dinner table and the joy he felt sitting next to her amid his found family.

In that version, he reached for her beautiful hand with more than just a swipe of his knuckles. She had reached back, and held his inside her own. She'd stroked the gnarled skin with the pad of her thumb in light, sweeping motions that spoke of a sensuality he'd never allowed from a lover's touch before.

Was she to be his lover then? His voice had asked the dream, but there had been no answer.

He'd always avoided the pain of tenderness on his skin, and nobody ever thought to touch his hands. And Azriel had stopped wondering if he would even allow it should someone try. The harsh reality of his scarred hands was usually reserved for his nightmares. In his dreams, the skin was smooth and strong. It was no nightmare, but the scars showed clear as day. It had to be the most beautiful dream his mind had ever conjured and somehow he had been truly and fully himself within it.

He dreamt that she rose from the table with a pointed look just for him. "I think I will take a walk through the grounds."

He somehow knew that she meant for him to follow, which he did eagerly, nearly upending his chair in his haste to be alone with her. He trailed a polite distance behind her as she made her way down a long corridor he didn't recognize. That fact barely registered. When she turned into a small room, he knew immediately that it was the powder room nearest the kitchens of the River House.

It should have disoriented him, but he joined her inside without hesitation.

Her mouth was on his in the darkness the moment the door clicked behind him. His body crashed against the hardness of the wood and his senses were overcome with the delicious taste and softness of her. The kiss was frantic and claiming. None of the earlier tenderness remained. This was raw need that he felt radiating off of her and it was raw need that he felt answering her back.

He wanted to see her face and at the thought faint faelights on either side of the mirror illuminated the room with a slightly blue glow. It shined like his Siphons on her lush hair and turned the copper a deep, sensual red. His hands were exploring her body hungrily. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled the sweet smell of her hair curtained around his face. Her skin was slightly salty as he nipped and licked his way up her neck to the cool curve of her delicately pointed ear. He pulled it between his teeth.

"Hurry, Az. They will be looking for us soon and I need you. I need you inside me."

She turned away from him and pitched her body over the sink. Her weight shifted onto her toes as she placed one hand on the mirror just to the side of her reflection. Their eyes locked in the mirror as she used her other hand to lift the skirts of her dress over her round and completely, gloriously bare ass.

"Hurry. I'm so ready for you, Az. Please. Take me."

Azriel steadied her with a hand to her hip and reached around with the other to find that her sex was soaked and swollen with her need. As she arched, his face fell into the hollow between her shoulder blades and he let out a deep animalistic groan. She was giving herself to him and he would take her right there with everyone still sitting down at their polite little dinner just outside the damn door.

He would take her up against the mirror and he would take her hard. He would make her feel the joy of sharing your body with another and he would not stop until he felt her walls clenching tightly around his cock in rolling release. He rubbed the tip of his cock across her entrance, careful to graze her clit with each long, wonderful swipe through her dampness.

"Please. I need you, Az. Make me feel good. Show me how good this can feel."

She moaned and begged, and he buried himself inside her in one powerful stroke. She pushed back into his hips eagerly and begged him to fuck her harder. He pulled her slightly back, placing his hands between her hips and the sharp counter edge, and he pounded into her. She smiled at him in the mirror as their frantic rhythm brought them both closer to shuddering release.

"Yes! That's it, Az. You're so deep. Give everything to me. Come for me. Come inside me. I need you, Az."

And he had. He'd collapsed against her back again. That time, his sweaty brow stuck to her soft hair and she'd rewarded him with a sensual chuckle.

He'd still heard it faintly on the air as he awoke. For Azriel, from that moment, there had been no hope of ever going back.

Azriel arrived at breakfast the following morning significantly earlier than the rest of his Housemates. He had been shocked awake predawn by the intensity of his erotic dream. It had taken both a very cold shower and disgusting images of a naked suriel to calm his physical lust. His mind and heart had been more stubborn though. It had taken him five miles running at a grueling pace to even contemplate trying to sit next to Gwyn for another meal.

With others, you would have chosen avoidance. You would have just fled Velaris on an invented mission.

Fair point. I don't want to avoid Gwyn. I want to be better than I have been. To be the friend she needs right now.

We still have hope.

As soon as Azriel detected her scent nearing the dining room, his teeth clamped shut as his shame returned. How could he have done that to her, even in a dream? While he agreed with Rhys that denying her sexuality was just amplifying her past victimization, it was another thing entirely to go so far as to objectify her as the star of one of his perverted fantasies. Although steamy enough to wreck his morning, he was just thankful that the dream hadn't come anywhere close to encompassing his more interesting exploits.

Would it have been worse if you'd dreamed of Little Valkyrie bound and kneeling...

DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE. Yes, I think it would have been worse. Although maybe it was how realistic it was that made it all the more jarring.

What had made him think that any of that was realistic? To take her so roughly and nearly in public? Mercifully, the shadows didn't press him on it. Everything about Gwyn was new territory for him.

He wasn't blind. He knew Gwyn to be a stunningly beautiful female, arguably the most attractive he'd ever known. That had never been the most interesting thing about her though. The thing that stuck out the most was her ability to both surprise him and make him feel so comfortable while feeling seen.

At that thought, Azriel looked up just in time to make eye contact with Gwyn and he gave her a quick nod. The shadows had told him that Emerie was joining them this morning before training, so he was expecting her as she flipped a chair backward to straddle it at the head of the table. She reached past him for a thick-cut piece of crispy bacon. They were joined by Nesta and Cassian and they were apparently continuing a conversation they had started in the hall.

"What I want to know is what Elain is up to asking all those questions about your nymph heritage?"

"Water wraith, remember?" Gwyn corrected Emerie around her mouthful of bacon.

"Right. Wraith. I feel like she wanted us to think you're some dangerous half-breed." Nesta chimed in with a quick glance to Azriel that he did not miss.

Lady Death is quite observant.

I know.

"One quarter-breed," Gwyn corrected.

"That isn't even a thing," Emerie chided.

"Of course, I'm a thing! Wait. I feel like I came down on the wrong side of that one, didn't I?" Everyone at the table nodded their agreement and continued to serve breakfast from the buffet of delicious offerings the House had supplied.

"Anyway. It isn't important. I don't care about decorum and she has no reason to have any sort of issue with me personally. We've barely spoken." It was Cassian's turn to glance knowingly at his brother.

Remind me to schedule remedial spy training for everyone, please. This is getting ridiculous.

Noted. It is not a secret, however.

"I'm sure she was just curious. This is all very new to her." Gwyn continued seemingly oblivious to the growing tension around the table.

"This is all new to me too and I don't go around making people uncomfortable." Nesta bristled, clearly still angry at Elain from the night before.

"First off, I wasn't uncomfortable. Second, yes you do. And third, it seems to me that what the Cauldron did to her mind could be uniquely unsettling. To not understand what is going on in your own mind? It wasn't just her body or her lifespan that was altered. It was the whole way her mind perceived reality. I feel for her is all I'm saying. I'm not angry and we don't need to think on it anymore. Personally, I'd like to discuss Emerie's little announcement. I feel like that was the highlight."

"You mean how I effortlessly got out of going on a pointless date with some paintbrush dick from Feyre's class by announcing to the table that I'm interested in dating females."

Cassian narrowly avoided spraying orange juice out his nose before asking, "What did you just call him?"

"She was being derogatory about his junk, Cass. Consider it a Valkyrie term of art." Gwyn snorted at her own pun.

"Why… Gwyn, that was positively vulgar! I like it, sis!" Cassian crooned.

"Thank you. I do try my best. Anyway, back to the point. I don't think your message was intended for the entirety of the table, Em."

"Don't get pissy with me just because now you have to go out with him."

"Ugh. I know. Feyre wants to talk about the date more at next week's dinner. She says I have to change seats so we can discuss uninterrupted."

Not only is she sending her on a date with some moron, but now she is messing with our seats at dinner? I liked our seats.

Focus.

"You ok, brother? You look a little green around the gills." Cassian smiled clearly remembering Azriel's recent declaration that he was not pursuing Gwyn. But Emerie and Nesta's eyes immediately found Azriel's with gentle companionship that offered silent confirmation that they had not spoken to anyone about how sick he was after witnessing Gwyn's traumatic flashback.

"You should know that you don't have to." It was the first time Az had spoken since the night before and his voice was rough.

"Sit with her?"

"Do anything at all that makes you even slightly uncomfortable."

***

"Well, now I'm just bored." Gwyn complained, but she didn't lift her chest from the surface of his desk. He heard her heave an exasperated sigh. He noticed Gwyn twist her head to lay her right cheek on his desk. Teal eyes trained on his face as she watched him continue pretending to read a massive report. Azriel wasn't even remotely bored though and he prayed his performance was convincing.

"Sounds like progress to me." Azriel added though he didn't dare return her gaze. They had been at this for weeks, which is how he found himself struggling to ignore her stunning body bent suggestively across his desk. Eager shadows pinned her arms behind her back and her delicate hands rested lazily on top of her ample rear.

Mother, save me! Is she wiggling her ass in my face now?

It wasn't in your face. She is trying to get more comfortable.

What about my comfort? I need to stop this before it gets out of hand.

Azriel knew it was too late when he noticed her nostrils flare and her eyes go wide.

"What am I smelling right now, Az?" He couldn't breathe. How on earth was he going to talk to her about this? "This is very important and I need you to tell me the plain truth. No judgment here. Are you aroused right now? Is this what male arousal smells like?"

There was that voice again. Her directness focused him enough to comprehend why he needed to talk to her about this. He could handle some embarrassment and she was clearly confused.

How is it possible that she doesn't know what male arousal smells like?

Focus.

At that point, there was no way out but through. "Yes." Azriel rasped.

Gwyn cackled before bolting straight up and plopping her beautiful rear on his desk to face him. Her legs dangled between his own and her face was positively beaming.

You can let go of her hands now. And maybe tell me why she isn't horrified.

Ask her.

You guys are becoming completely useless. You couldn't have masked my scent and saved us this embarrassment?

Little Valkyrie isn't embarrassed and you'll live.

"That smells nothing like what I remember from that day. I think some of it was there, but the strongest smell was so tangy and sharp. Almost metallic. More so than the memory of the way my body felt, I remember that horrible smell." Gwyn shuddered. "I've been so worried that if I was ever with someone willingly someday, the smell alone would ruin it for both of us."

Cauldron, save me. She thinks I feel what they felt. She thinks I want to hurt her.

Stay calm. She doesn't understand. She means no offense.

"That was hate, Gwyn. I'm not surprised you're not familiar with it." Azriel's heart was breaking. "What happened to you was not about lust or sexual attraction. It was a desire to cause pain and a hunger to do physical violence. A desire to dominate and destroy. I remember that smell too. I've smelled it before. Unfortunately, I cannot promise you that you won't smell it again in your lifetime, but I can promise that it will never be from me."

Their eyes locked and something very important passed between them at that moment. Something fundamental to the core of their connection shifted just ever so slightly, and permanently, on its axis.

"I believe you." Gwyn affirmed before pausing. "I'm just still a little confused. Are you comfortable discussing this with me in more detail? You can say no. It is very private and we can have boundaries between us. We should in fact. Your comfort matters to me."

Mother, bless her beautiful soul.

The Mother has.

"This does seem to be an important distinction for what we are trying to accomplish. Unexpected, but important. What do you want to know, Gwyn?" Az was relieved to note that the embarrassment from a moment before had evaporated fully in the wake of her open curiosity.

"You're turned on right now, at the sight of a female pinned face down on top of your desk and restrained. How is that not a desire to dominate? Why does it smell different to me?"

Azriel took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly to compose his thoughts for her.

"Well, if we are being truly scientific about it. I can't say if I would be turned on by having any random female pinned to my desk while I'm sitting about a foot away pretending to work." Maybe he should have taken a moment longer because he didn't mean to admit that part. There was a very small chance that Gwyn had missed it.

No way out but through.

"As far as experiments go, all we can say for sure is that having a very beautiful female, for whom I happen to care deeply, I might add, and who has ASKED me to pin her to my desk because she trusts me without question, announces that she is bored and starts wiggling her shapely rear in my face… yes, apparently that does it for me. Should we add that to your little notebook? Maybe start a new page?" He could feel the smirk as his brain conjured up a page entitled "Az's Kinks" in her handy little notebook.

"Oh, this is going in there for sure, but I don't think you understand what this means for my future!" Azriel was having trouble keeping up and it was unsettling him again.

What is this about her future?

Ask her.

"I would never touch you without permission, I hope you know that." Azriel might be confused, but he needed her to know that always.

Does she look afraid to you?

Fuck off.

"Of course! We've learned that I can smell male arousal without being afraid. You smell lovely, by the way." Gwyn muttered that last part almost to herself.

My arousal smells lovely to her. Write that down somewhere.

Focus.

"Thank you very much." Azriel hurried to cover his glee and sketched a slight bow in her direction.

"Actually, if we are going to be precise, all we've learned is that I'm not afraid of YOUR arousal. Shit. I might need more subjects?" It was like getting punched in the gut. Azriel felt his hands tighten around the wood bracketing his office chair.

She is going on that damn date, isn't she?

His question was met with silence, but he could see the shadows frozen in mid-air around his head. The fact that they were as freaked out as he was did not make him smug.

"Interesting reaction, Shadowsinger. I was totally kidding, by the way. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. But your reaction was very interesting. I'm gonna jot that down and think more on it later."

Gwyn slid from the desk and was almost out the door, but not before peaking back in to add 'maybe when I'm all alone tonight. In bed."

Did she just waggle an eyebrow at me?

Little Valkyrie is very happy today. You've helped her a great deal.

She's a menace. That's what she is. A fucking menace.

Azriel launched the hearty report at the door just as her flowing red hair and infectious laughter disappeared behind it. The quiet she left behind sobered him.

Her friendship is the most precious thing I've ever been gifted. Her joy is a miracle. I'll protect both with my life. I just have to get my urges under control. She deserves better than some "giant winged pervert" lusting after her when she is just asking for help to feel normal again.

She deserves honesty and that is what you gave her today. Nothing more, nothing less.

***

Feyre arrived to transport Gwyn into town and to make the initial introductions between his Gwyn and this half-wit finger painter from her class. The details had been hashed out at family dinner last week and everyone seemed to have a fucking opinion. Azriel had remained silent throughout, which seemed for the best, all things considered. He waited with Feyre as familiar voices traveled down the hall toward them.

"Don't worry so much. It's not like you're looking for a mate, just some practice flirting."

Cauldron, was she going to flirt with this male?

"Mates are rare, Nesta." Gwyn's voice rang with a sadness that Azriel knew intimately.

"Please, for something so supposedly rare, they're sure popping up everywhere these days. Don't you think?"

Not everywhere, Nesta.

"I'd bet you have a mate somewhere waiting for you." Emerie's confidence was unnerving.

Could she have a mate waiting for her?

"I HAVE bet that you have a mate, but I can't say more than that. Amren might consider it insider trading, influencing the outcome or something sinister, and I like my head attached firmly to my shoulders."

Nesta was not wrong. Amren would undoubtedly consider talking to Gwyn about a bet concerning Gwyn to be insider trading. Of course, Nesta and Amren would be the ones gambling on people's happiness. Wait.

Why would Amren even care about Gwyn having a mate? She's never even met her!

She wouldn't.

"What?!" Gwyn shrieked.

"Never mind. I said nothing. Emerie, did you bring those shoes? The really strappy ones. With any luck, he has a thing for feet!"

"I didn't know, Azriel. I'm so sorry."

"Know about what exactly, Feyre?"

"About Gwyn."

"Stay out of my thoughts, please. Your mate has at least learned better manners."

"I didn't have to listen to your thoughts. It's all over your beautiful face. I'll let you push me off another rock if that would help."

"It is less fun now that you know how to fly."

He sighed audibly before silently offering a few final thoughts with his High Lady.

"Just tell me he is decent, that she will have fun tonight. And help me pray he doesn't have a thing for feet."

A sad smile was her only reply. Azriel lifted his mental shields and retreated to the training ring to hopefully find Cassian or break something heavy.

"Oh, no you don't! Step away from my prettier-than-most mate, Azriel." Nesta's clear voice cut across the training ring and Cassian chuckled lowly.

"I can leave the face. Though I'm not sure I believe it is truly your favorite part, Nesta." Azriel countered with a wicked grin. He wasn't himself tonight.

"I'm serious, Az. This ends now."

"I was only kidding. I won't hurt him. He is just going to help me work off some steam."

"Normally, I would agree with you." She cocked her head to one side appraisingly. "I know some of your looks by now, but I don't know this one." She shook her head, having reached a decision. "I'm part of this family now and I'm setting some new ground rules. When we are uncomfortable, we talk. When we can't talk, we drink. When we can't drink, we hit things."

Az finally raised out of his fighting crouch to stare at her in stunned disbelief.

Is she serious?

Apparently. These are good rules. She intends to see them followed.

"If you can't talk to her, you talk to me." Nesta continued in a much softer tone, thankfully devoid of pity. Cassian looked between them and shook his head in defeat.

"She means well, brother." He clapped Az on the back in solidarity. "Then again, she is still fairly new. I'll just go get the wine." Cassian ambled off still chuckling to himself.

"It isn't what you think. With Gwyn, I mean."

"Don't pull that shit with me. You have no idea what it is with Gwyn."

Lady Death is quite observant.

No shit.

"So what are we supposed to be talking about then, in this new world of yours?"

"Since you don't know what it is, tell me what it isn't."

"It doesn't feel new, but it is. If that makes any sense." Azriel was even more confused trying to put it into words. He was getting more frustrated, not less. "Maybe I'm not so good at this talking thing, Nesta. We can just wait for the wine."

"The wine is for Cassian. He's nervous. He worries about her, but don't tell her that."

"See. I'm nervous, just like Cassian."

"Nice try. You mean new, as in recent, or new, as in compared to the way you've felt before?"

"I'm not sure what I meant before exactly, but the answer to your question is both."

"And when you say it doesn't feel new, what do you mean?"

"Like she's always been there somehow."

"Interesting."

"Please don't ask me anymore about how I feel about Gwyn. Not now."

"Fine. Let's talk about how my sister feels about Gwyn."

"Feyre? She's a big fan."

"Elain sees her as a rival."

"She shouldn't. I'm not with Gwyn. I'm not pursuing Gwyn in that way. I've told Elain that I can't give her what she wants. Whatever it was, it has been over for some time."

"Good for you. But, I doubt Elain even knows what she wants."

"She wants a choice in her life. Is that so wrong?"

"I don't buy it. She never expected a choice in picking a husband. She was not raised valuing a love match. Plus, nobody chooses their mate. She was raised to marry well. A core belief like that is hard to shake. She doesn't know what Lucien is or where he fits in this court or any court for that matter. If anything, the idea of making a clear choice is what she is running from."

"She thinks I have a mate out there somewhere who I would need to reject for her." Azriel's voice was low even though they were alone.

"What do you think?" Nesta had gone scary still.

"I don't think I have a mate. And I wouldn't reject a mating bond for someone who it turns out I barely knew at all."

"Good for you. And for her. But that crap at dinner? That was our mother talking through Elain's mouth. She feels threatened. But if she thinks she can tear Gwyn down to keep her life in this weird stasis with everyone wondering will they/won't they, she's gonna have a fight on her hands."

"You'd fight her?"

"I'd kill anyone who harms my sister, but that doesn't mean I have to take her shit either. But, I didn't mean me. Gwyneth Berdara is nobody's patsy."

"I'll drink to that!"

***

"We cannot spy on Gwyn's date, Nesta." The words were ash in his mouth. The thought of seeing her with another male turned his stomach.

"Obviously, we can. It's just some fancy little cafe and you're the Spymaster of the Night Court. I'm pretty sure you can handle the security."

"Nesta." Azriel snarled. "I'm not talking about the logistics of spying and you know it. Gwyn would eviscerate us. Like, disembowel us on the spot."

"What if she needs help though?"

"Berdara can defend herself. You know that too."

"Okay, but I can't just sit here and wait. Plus, she'd have to catch us first."

"Wait." Azriel trained his eyes on Nesta. "When you say he's taking her to a fancy little cafe, is it that super romantic joint on the Sidra with the triple chocolate cake you guys are always raving about?"

"So? What if it is?"

"Is this about Gwyn or snagging a fat slice of cake?"

"Eat a dick, Az. I'll go on my own."

"Like hell, you will. What do we do with Cassian? He's pretty drunk."

"Just throw a blanket over him. He'll never know we were gone."

"Fine. But if that douche tries to kiss her, I get to mist him right there on the spot. No complaints."

"Seems like a perfectly reasonable reaction to me. Now. Get moving, Az. Gwyn needs our support."

***

"Hurry. Pretend we were playing cards." Nesta was officially the worst spy. She may be observant, but she was the least stealthy person he had ever encountered, besides Cassian. He would clearly not be recruiting their kids into his spy network.

Sly Brother has returned with our Little Valkyrie. His flair for the dramatic is intact and on full display tonight. She is mostly unharmed, except that those ridiculous shoes wrecked her beautiful feet. Sly Brother has not tried to hold any more of her than her hand for winnowing. His instincts are correct. His touch makes her uncomfortable, though it is through no fault of his own.

I've held her without making her uncomfortable.

You are different.

"Cass might be drunk." Nesta offered an explanation for Cassian mumbling "baby sister" before passing out again. "He was a little nervous, but I wouldn't let them spar. I like his face just how it is. So, tell us everything." She glanced at Az but recovered quickly.

"Zero sparks, but the food was amazing."

She sounds relieved.

She is relieved.

"That is all you have to say, you're talking to me about the food right now, Berdara?" Nesta obviously shared their relief.

"Oh. I do have a question though. He tried to kiss me as we left the restaurant, but I didn't want to, so I just kind of pretended not to notice and then went in for a hug. It was awkward. Was that rude? Should I have addressed it properly?"

A chorus of ‘no's’ answered her from everyone in the room, save one.

"No need to humiliate the guy." Rhys offered, but Azriel thought misting would be more appropriate and he couldn't help a smile at the idea.

"Was he too pushy though? Did he say something vulgar and make you uncomfortable? What? I know her face and she looked uncomfortable to me."

Nesta is an idiot.

Don't be afraid of Little Valkyrie. She will forgive you.

"I KNEW it, you two jackasses were spying on me! The back left corner just behind the bar was a little darker than was natural, given the light in the room."

Holy Shit. Gwyn would make an excellent spy.

Agreed.

"That, and I thought I smelled Nesta on my way to the restroom after our appetizers. But it was a toss-up between you and the triple chocolate cake on the dessert trolly."

"I smell like cake?" Nesta beamed. That was his cue.

"Only when you eat cake," Azriel added under his breath. Nesta tossed a pillow at him, but her face was fully amused. "Well, I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"Most definitely," Az smirked affectionately.

"Look. It was just for a moment, Just to make sure you didn't need us for anything."

"I tried to stop her." Azriel blurted at the appalled look on Gwyn's face.

"If you had tried to stop me, how did I get there, genius?"

Now, who is the idiot?

Focus, shadows.

"I believe you told me to 'eat a dick' and threatened to go alone. At least this way, we could get in and out undetected."

"Almost undetected, Shadowsinger." She's beautiful when she's smug.

"At least we didn't make a scene!"

"Was that an option?" Gwyn nearly squeaked.

Azriel gestured widely with his hands to indicate all of Nesta's body which was now perched on the edge of the couch over his shoulder and Nesta just shrugged.

"Fair point." Gwyn's concession brought a chuckle from Rhys, who had his own theatrics to add to the conversation.

"You shouldn't have worried yourselves anyway. I checked his mind beforehand."

"You did not!" Gwyn scoffed, Azriel was impressed and grateful.

"Of course I did. Feyre wouldn't. She got all morally superior about it, so I did it myself." Rhys sounded rightfully just in his decision.

"There might be hope for you yet, brother o" mine." A slight thaw in Nesta's tone warmed Azriel's heart.

"And nothing untoward?" Az felt like he was demanding a report from one of his spies.

"Well. Nothing sinister or violent, although I can say he was pretty, um… optimistic about the evening."

He allowed her to go out with some stranger male who was lusting after her?

What did you expect exactly? Our Little Valkyrie is stunning. She is kind. She is clever. She is charming. Many males desire her.

Azriel couldn't help the snarl that rumbled low in his throat.

"Careful, Az. Someone might get the wrong impression."

"Smug bastard."

"At your service, Spymaster"

"You are a beautiful female, Gwyneth. If you want another date with him, I will just say that I like your chances." Rhys intoned with a courtly tilt of his head.

"He was sweet, but just so dull. I really don't think so. Can you tell Feyre and thank her for me?"

Let the people rejoice!

Focus. She is watching for your reaction.

Why are you helping me now?

Hope.

Gwyn relaxed on the couch next to him. The weight of her decision clearly lifted. Then she did the most miraculous thing. She stretched out her legs and proceeded to bury her beautiful feet under his thigh as though they had done this a thousand times. They had not.

"What? I can't tell if they are numb from the cold or from those damn heels Emerie made me wear."

Her eyes held an obvious invitation, but he had to be sure. Azriel placed a hand carefully on her ankles and watched for the slight nod from Gwyn that came without hesitation. He willed his hands not to tremble as he repositioned a nearby throw pillow onto his waiting lap and then commenced rubbing warmth back into her aching feet.

"It's both," Azriel reported flatly.

"Thank you," Gwyn whispered, but couldn't quite meet his eyes.

Rhys said something, but the only thing that registered at all to Azriel was his brother's curious gaze focused on his hands touching Gwyn so intimately. A moment later, a decision passed over his brother's face. Azriel couldn't bring himself to care.

He thought he heard Cassian's voice, but nothing held his attention save the careful arch of her foot and the slight hum he felt reverberating down from her slowly rising chest. Normally, his hands were slightly numb from the scars. The thickness of the scars robbed him of some sensation and he had learned to grasp things more by memory than by touch. But they came alive with the warmth of her body beneath them. He could feel every tendon stretch and release under his touch. Her body relaxed, welcoming his presence and their physical connection.

"Don't stay up too late." Nesta's voice shocked him. He had forgotten she was there. "Training first thing tomorrow." With an encouraging smile, she turned toward the hallway.

"Did you have fun?" Azriel asked, finally breaking their comfortable silence. They were alone. His hands were still touching her with obvious affection. He felt like he needed to talk to her to stay grounded. He needed to remember that she had just been on a date with a male, who was not him.

"Sure. I think so." Gwyn sounded as distracted as he felt.

"Good. You deserve some fun. You're young." Azriel wanted to stay focused on her experiences. His feelings were a swirling mess threatening to overwhelm him.

"It isn't like I'm looking for a mate." He could barely breathe at her words.

"Mates are rare, Gwyn." He reminded both of them. Elain's prediction had been pushed down so far into his heart that he had almost decided it didn't happen. Her visions were so unpredictable and it was highly unlikely that he had a mate waiting for him out there somewhere. As though his thoughts conjured her next words, Gwyn shocked him again.

"Is that why you wanted Elain? You thought the Cauldron gave the sisters mates and you wouldn't have one without her?" She had never asked about Elain before and part of him had been dreading this moment. Somehow, he knew they would have this conversation eventually. He resolved himself to give Gwyn what honestly he was capable of, especially when it came to what he had felt for Elain, no matter how painful or embarrassing.

"Yes." If he focused on her feet and where their bodies connected, he could fight the urge to hide from her.

"So, she is special and you're not." He nodded his agreement but refused to look up.

"But shouldn't mates be equals? What makes her so special?" Somehow, from Gwyn, it didn't sound like an accusation. She was truly curious about his thinking.

"Elain is very gentle and kind." Is that all he could think to say about a female for whom he had even briefly considered fighting a Blood Duel?

"Gentle isn't always a kindness. Sometimes it is just polite. Sometimes it is just what is easy." Shit. How was Gwyn able to see people so clearly and from such a distance, when it took him years to realize the same thing?

"You sound like Nesta." Azriel's words were met with a patient, expectant silence he recognized as his tactic turned back on him. He felt more honored than manipulated. "She doesn't buy that Elain is upset about not having a choice. Nobody chooses their mate. And she never expected to choose her husband, in the mortal world, I mean. She thinks she doesn't know what Lucien is or where he fits in the Night Court." Azriel was truly curious to hear what Gwyn would make of Nesta's earlier comments.

"And you do fit here, as a Spymaster and as a brother." Gwyn just nodded as she added, "I see the appeal, but people need to find their own way. And as for your theory, just remember, Feyre had a mate before she was made and she wasn't made by the Cauldron."

"I thought of that and you're not wrong. Something else is going on here that maybe doesn't have anything to do with me. Anyway, I've moved on." He added and hoped it didn't sound defensive. It was true, but he was walking a fine line. He didn't want Gwyn to feel like he was pressuring her. He wanted her to feel comfortable being herself. He didn't want to put any expectations on her as he had in the past with other females he cared deeply about.

"Maybe from Elain, but not from thinking you're not special. Not by a long shot, Shadowsinger." Azriel fought valiantly against the smile that still bloomed across his face at her trademark irreverence.

This was Gwyn in all her glory. This was Gwyn with that sparkle in her sharp gaze that he had come to realize she reserved only for him and only for when they were completely alone. Like right then. As much as it pained him, he had to stop touching her. Azriel was as resolved not to rush them, as he was unwilling to hide from whatever they were becoming.

"Well, if you are determined to convince me that I'm not, in fact, a selfish fool, I think we're gonna need more wine," Azriel stated enthusiastically.

He placed her feet back down on the couch with a quick, but hopefully affectionate pat on her shins. Her eyes shot to his with clear disappointment. With that one look, Gwyn sparked warmth in a part of his soul he had long given up for dead.

"Where is that expensive bottle of pinot Mor brought to family dinner last week?"

"Nesta hid it behind the pastry flour when she brought out the cheap stuff, remember?"

Azriel didn't need to ask Gwyn. He knew the precise location of that bottle of wine. Even if he hadn't known, he could have asked the shadows. He smiled, relishing both the confirmation of her keen observational skills and the sound of her voice coming to him, sleepy and muffled, from the living room. He could picture her perfectly in his mind, relaxing back into the padded armrest with her long legs still stretching out toward his side of their couch. This night was quickly morphing into something truly beautiful and precious to him.

"Speaking of Mor, isn't she just such an obvious choice for your boyhood crush?"

Azriel smirked as he returned with the bottle and two beautiful glasses he'd hand-selected specifically to honor this night with her. It seemed they were not done talking about his past.

He sniffed the wine and took a long sip, as his eyes locked with hers over the glass. He had intended to just taste the wine, but the need for additional fortification was quickly becoming more urgent with every word from Gwyn's stunning lips. He poured and passed her the first glass. Hopefully, the first of many as they leisurely made their way through and into an understanding of one another.

He turned and tucked his feet between her body and the couch. They were facing one another for the first time that night. It was an invitation to proceed on more equal footing and with hopefully a comfortable openness between them.

"And what's wrong with being obvious?"

"You're the opposite of obvious, obviously." Gwyn was hitting her conversational stride and he was ready to bask in it.

"Is that so?"

"You know it is. And you know why. And you know what I'm going to say next. And you know why I'm gonna say it. You're the Spymaster. You read people and situations. You observe, discern, strategize." Gwyn was stunningly clever and it was incredibly sexy.

"That's my job, Gwyn." Azriel loved to hear how her mind worked.

"That's YOU, Az."

She called me Az. Did you hear her just call me Az?

Focus. Talk to her, not to us.

"Anyway. I'm just saying that sometimes you know what a person is trying to hide by the way they try to hide it. You keep everyone safe, Spymaster. Including your own heart." She paused, but he knew she was not close to being done. She was just used to letting people catch up.

"If Mor had ever called you on it, you'd have run and you know it. Do you want a life with Mor? You're both about truth, right? TruthTeller. Have you ever asked her out or told her how you feel? Has she talked to you? And it is conveniently, so unbelievably awkward that nobody ever calls you on it. You'd never convince them that you're okay. Nobody expects that. Nobody is buying that. But show them the little hurt over here. And maybe they will ignore the gaping stab wound in your chest. And they have, haven't they? How very polite of them?"

Holy fucking shit.

Yeah.

"Do you think intimacy is a goal of yours, Shadowsinger? Is that something you truly want to find?"

"Maybe that's why I've been so obsessed with finding a mate. It's proof. Proof that I can trust them." Hypothetically, of course. He'd never afforded himself much time to contemplate what he knew he would never have.

"But it really isn't. You know that right? Mates aren't always suited. You told me once that your mother and father were mates. Didn't sound like she could trust him. Not being able to trust your family is a special brand of evil."

"Now you've convinced me. I'm special!" Gwyn didn't look amused.

Talk to her. Let her in. She is your safety.

"I know that if I found a mate, my mate. I'd have to stop running. I'd have to let her in."

"How would that be different?"

"I have loved females, Gwyn, loved them deeply. But none I was physical with. And I've been very physical with females before, but none were the ones that I loved. Not once."

"And do you love Elain?" It was a fair question and one he had somehow forgotten to ask himself.

"Yes. Well, I care about her a lot. I hate to see how she's hurting. I want to help her. To be important to her."

"And.."

"I'm also attracted to her." Azriel could admit that in front of Gwyn. It would be ridiculous to deny it.

"Easy. She's stunning. I'm kinda attracted to her and she hasn't said two words to me. What makes it love though?"

I have no answer for her. Maybe it was never truly love. That would be humiliating.

Say what you feel. She will help you understand. She sees value in your happiness.

"I need her to love me." He noticed it was barely a whisper and Gwyn leaned forward conspiratorially.

Or I used to need that. I don't know what I need now.

That is why you are here. Go slow. Give each truth time to breathe. She will help you.

"Ah. But wanting someone to be in love with you isn't the same as being in love with them. Even I know that. I mean Mor is stunning too. Sometimes I wish she was in love with me?"

Don't make this gross, Shadowsinger. If Her Mistress Morrigan ever took our Little Valkyrie to bed, it wouldn't be for your entertainment. Focus on what she is trying to show you. It is important.

"You? You wish you were in love with Mor?"

"Sure. She prefers females, am I right?" Sip.

"Yes. She does. She always has." He could admit that now.

"Ah, so you did know? Fascinating." Sip.

"Did you just trick me, Berdara?"

"It's your own move. I'm just observant. I'm sly like fox, Shadow Britches."

"No."

"Broody McBrooderson from Broodsville."

"Never say that again."

"Noted. So, just for when we're alone then." He smiled at her utter generosity. How was she making such a painful topic feel bearable, enjoyable even?

"So, why have you been hung up on a lesbian for so long, only to replace that angst with a mated female?"

"Well. When you say it like that I feel like a fool. I thought you were trying to convince me that I'm special?"

His foot nudged her hip jokingly, but he prayed she'd keep talking. Nobody who loved him had ever truly had the capacity to sit with him in this mess and help him order the chaos that was his heart and his choices.

"But you are not a fool, Az. And you are not blind. So you chose them. Why?"

"It would just be a relief. To know for sure. To have something I could trust."

"Like what you said earlier about a mating bond." Gwyn nodded encouragingly, as though it made all the sense in the world. And to her it must have, so he continued. She was offering him answers if he could just stay open enough to follow her lead.

"Exactly."

"If they changed for you. You'd know it was real."

"Fuck." It was more of a breath than a word.

"Yeah." Gwyn was still nodding as she drank her wine and finally looked away. Silence. Absolute silence.

"But would you though?"

"What?"

"Trust it. Or would you spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder?" Gwyn explained patiently.

"I do that anyway." Sip.

"Exactly." Sip.

"What just happened?" Azriel was downright giddy.

"I think we just discovered that you're not really trying to heal and only offer love to females who reinforce your defense mechanisms and distract everyone from realizing you're orchestrating your isolation." Sip.

"Is this what you read about when you're not reading smut?" His deflection was allowed for once.

"Who says I didn't learn this FROM smut? Don't pretend to be such a snob. It doesn't suit you, Az."

She called me Az again. Are you counting?

We are not.

The teasing was a relief, but it held a sharp reminder. She knew him and she was willing to take the time and care to walk him through the messy bits. Azriel had never felt loved so freely and without limitations. Could she help him find a way out? He stared over her shoulder into the darkened kitchen and relaxed into that love for once.

"In fact," Gwyn continued as she stood, "While we are on the subject, don't pretend to be anything you're not. Not here. Not with me. Including pretending to be in love with females who stand apart and make you feel ashamed."

Gwyn placed her fists on her hips in a powerful stance that might have been a touch dramatic. He'd better keep her away from Rhys or they would grow absolutely insufferable together. Azriel looked up at her and laughed. He cocked an eyebrow in question.

"I'm waging a war on shame. This is my battle stance."

She is perfect.

In almost every way, the perfect match.

"Am I your first skirmish, Berdara?"

"Second. If we are counting. And tonight we are. That's what tonight is.. an accounting, of sorts."

"If that's so, I have some counting for you. You've mentioned lesbians twice tonight. Did you notice? Are you attracted to females? Truly?" He hoped she heard his refusal to hide anymore. He would be a better friend to her than he had been to Mor, to maybe anyone.

"Who knows? Maybe, but Mor transcends though, am I right?" Gwyn shrugged and he would give her time to adjust to the spotlight being on her desires for the moment.

"Yes."

"I mean, I don't have to tell you that."

"No."

"I guess I'm a little late to that particular party, at least 500 years late. And you're like, what, prom king? Do you have a crown?"

"I get it. Can we get back to my question?" Okay. Maybe he wouldn't give her that much time to adjust to the attention.

"Touchy."

"I'm being serious."

"I know. That's why I brought jokes. Okay. Turnabout is fair play, right? So, no, I'm not physically attracted to females, romantically speaking. But sometimes I wish I was." She sounded wistful and he knew she was ready to be brutally honest with herself and with him.

"Why?"

"Would just be damn convenient to never have to get over my fear of dick."

Azriel choked on his wine and covered his mouth with the back of his hand. He felt his eyes blown wide, both at her blunt terminology and at the sheer weight of her confession.

"I mean, it is one thing to be afraid of being grabbed in a dark alley or by the monsters in my closet. Who isn't, right? But what if I just freak the fuck out when I see one again." Gwyn sounded truly horrified and something else that took him a moment to identify. She was ashamed.

"You're afraid of your reaction to seeing a male's cock." It wasn't a question and more a sad realization.

Oh, Gwyn. You sweet, beautiful warrior.

She carries much sadness and fear.

"Azriel, I swear if you whip it out right here I will scream and tell Nesta."

"You wouldn't do that to me."

She would totally do that to me.

There is a strong likelihood, yes.

"No, but the look on your face was glorious. I will cherish it in my heart always. Maybe Nesta can be our new safe word?" Sip.

Bless me. I'm drinking wine and talking about safe words with Gwyneth Berdara.

Focus.

"Did we have an old safe word?" Sip.

"Of course, we did, it was Stop! Get the fuck off of me, you overgrown bat." Gwyn looked smug and Azriel was trying his best not to get aroused at their banter. Sometimes the rhythm of their conversations felt almost sensual.

"I don't think Nesta would enjoy us using her name." Azriel set up her response perfectly.

"Are you kidding me with this? She'd be honored? Have you met her?"

Azriel chuckled, before adding with true concern and assurance in his voice. "I hope you know I would never whip it out, or whatever you just said."

"Of course, you would, if you thought I needed you to do that to get better. You'd do anything for me, remember? I just assumed that included getting naked. I mean, damn, what are we doing here if you won't even get naked." Shock plastered across her face as she threw her hands in the air.

"You're teasing me now. This is sass, right?"

"Well spotted. A mouth full of sass for the Shadow Male."

Verbal sparring. That's what we do.

Some would call it foreplay.

"Well, we already covered my fear of dick and your commitment phobia. Honestly, I'm pretty spent."

"You think I'm afraid of commitment?"

"No. You TOLD ME you were afraid of commitment." Gwyn corrected him, holding her pointer finger in the air for emphasis.

"I never said that." Azriel was gonna need her to spell this out for him.

"Doubling down on unavailable females, publicly pining for females you KNOW will never actually challenge your fears, while only allowing physical intimacy with strangers under circumstances within your complete control. You're a smart man. Possibly the smartest and with a well-documented unparalleled mind for strategy…" Azriel's eyebrows rose at the flattering assessment of his intellect. Gwyn waved her hand dismissively before he could ask, "Whatever, I read that somewhere in the library. Not the point. What would The Spymaster say is the goal of that strategy?"

"Vigilance." Wasn't that obvious?

"Hyper-vigilance." Gwyn corrected patiently.

"What's the hyper for?"

"It means it sucks. It isn't helpful anymore. Maybe you needed it before, but now it is just holding you back." When he didn't respond, Gwyn marched on. "Everyone is so careful with you, it makes me sick. Don't get me wrong, I love Nesta and our whole found family." That was truly what they were becoming and his heart sang at her inclusion of herself. "But they tiptoe around your personal life, but then expect you to maim and kill with no emotional cost. I know they love you and want you to heal, in theory, but it seems odd to me the things they chose to ignore. Seriously, what do you think would happen?

I have no idea what she just asked me.

Tell her that.

"What do you mean?"

"If you no longer had access to the rage and the fear, if you allowed yourself to heal and be mated. If you chose to become a father yourself. Could you be their spymaster?"

She thinks I could have a mate and that I am capable of being a father to someone someday? Does she think I have that to give?

She knows it.

"No."

"And what would happen to them?"

"They'd all die."

"Doesn't sound so foolish now does it? Doesn't sound selfish at all. But is it real?" Azriel couldn't look away from her eyes, even as his own stung with unshed tears. Hers were pools of inviting warmth and acceptance. He was surprised to hear a wet huff escape his lips. He was utterly bare before her, but he felt light, unshackled from the weight of his shame. "It's just hiding. And I know a thing or two about hiding. If you ever want to figure that out, I think I could help you. Like you've helped me."

"Have I helped you? Truly?" He needed to hear it from her at this moment. Needed to believe it in every part of him.

"Yes. More than you know."

"I'd like to keep helping you. In whatever way you decide you need." Sip.

"Of course, you do, but will you let me help you in return? Can you imagine a future where you're just ever so slightly less broken? Could you allow us to be equals or are you dead set to stand apart?" Sip.

"I hope I can."

Maybe she knew what that seemingly small concession had ignited within him because she beamed back at him and patted his shins encouragingly before adding, "Hope is an excellent start."

When all the wine had been drunk and inane stories swapped, Gwyn's eyes had drifted closed during a longer and more languishing version of a story he'd told Feyre of his first long flight across the sea. The embellishments were artfully crafted to encourage her to sleep, a precious commodity for either of them.

Azriel carried her to her bed thinking just how much had changed within each of them and between them since the last time he had made this trek. Tonight had been the most romantic evening of his long life. Because compared to the entirety of his sexual exploits, tonight had been a deeply personal experience.

It was not need that pushed him toward her bed and it was not fear or shame that stayed his hand as he placed her gently on the bed. It was the width and breadth of his gratitude. Gratitude to her for her care. Gratitude to Rhys and the Mother for giving him the chance and the necessary skill to save her. To know her. To love her in any way she would allow.

As he walked lazily back to his room, drunk on wine and her, he understood then that he would deny her nothing, none of his time, his truths, his body, his patience, or any part of herself. This time he would offer up all of himself, and see to it that his love did not come with a cost.

Azriel clasped his hands behind his back as he wove methodically through the ever-growing crowd of trainees. They were struggling to complete a round of the standard strength exercises. A warm-up that he had come to find meditative after centuries of careful practice, but they seemed to unanimously loathe them. His eyes were trained anywhere other than on Gwyn's athletic form, as she moved gracefully from one position to the next. He didn't need to look at her to sense every movement. He could scent the sweat forming on her body, and hear the breath drawing rhythmically through her slightly parted lips. He needed to be more careful than this.

You are still contemplating Little Valkyrie's words.

I know she cares for me. This isn't just curiosity.

And?

That doesn't mean that it is sexual, at least not for her.

And?

And, I've been wrong before.

When were you wrong?

"Again!" Azriel smirked as the trainees groaned almost in unison. This brand of torture he enjoyed a great deal.

I thought Mor was just very good at masking her scent.

Did you really?

I never even detected it around Cassian and I know she was aroused by him.

Do you really?

She had sex with Cassian.

She did. Quite famously.

She wouldn't have done it unless she wanted him.

Wanted him for what?

Fair enough. Mor is an overtly sexual creature and I've never detected her arousal. The most likely explanation was that she is just good at masking it.

Never detected it?

"Sloppy. Again! And if I hear any groaning, it will not be the last round."

Perhaps a few times. In war sometimes, faintly. I couldn't be sure. A battle can do that.

All battles? Around everyone?

No… Andromache. I could only smell it around Andromache. That's when I knew.

Is that the only time you scented her emotions?

No. I've detected concern from her. Friendship for me, pity and regret, as well. Never fear though.

Never fear?

Rarely. My rage has startled her before. What I could do. She's never wanted that from me.

And?

I knew. I just didn't want to let go and she never made me.

Was that her responsibility?

Of course, it wasn't. Don't twist my words. At least she cared and noticed me. It made me feel less alone somehow. Like it was part of something, even if it was doomed and one-sided.

Was it?

As a relationship? Yes. As some weird symbiotic toxicity? I guess not. She got a type of coverage too. It just became what we were.

And?

I guess it is just that I haven't figured out what Gwyn wants or needs from me. Not yet, at least.

And?

I will wait until I know and this time I will believe her when she shows me.

And?

None of that means that I have to discourage her.

It does not. You should not. Good luck trying, if you do. Lady Death approaches. She thinks to interrogate you.

"Why do you look so pleased with yourself, Az?"

"Could it be that everyone is exhausted and I did my job exceedingly well today, Nesta?"

"That's not it. Your training is always exceptional." Azriel inclined his head at the compliment.

"And usually you grin when we are struggling to stand. Not when we are resting afterward and this..." She gestured to his face. "... is not a wistful smile." Nesta stepped closer to where Azriel leaned casually against the wall and sniffed him. "I don't smell anyone on you, so it can't be sex, but maybe you've masked it with your shadows."

"And why would I do that?"

"Forbidden love perhaps?"

"If you're accusing me of sleeping with your sister, I have not."

"Which sister? Oh. You meant Elain. I know it isn't her. Elain is many things, but being adventurous enough to keep up with your kinks is not one of them. Not by a mile."

Lady Death is observant.

I am aware.

"Have you noticed Gwyn has stacked those bandages three times already?"

"No."

"Liar. It's like she's waiting for something. Or someone. She seems a bit nervous too."

"Don't tease her, Nesta."

"Of course not, you're the only one I can tease about this and have any fun with it. Gwyn is pure, single-minded determination. Right now she has two things on her mind: unraveling her newest ribbon..." Nesta gestured generally to Azriel himself. "... and fixing herself."

"She doesn't need…"

"I know. Her words, not mine. She's also very young and has been sheltered most of her life."

"Aren't you younger than her?"

"I was born old, Az. You know that. Cassian is the one who keeps me young. That's why we work so well together."

"You do."

"What?"

"Work well together."

"I know. It is infuriating. Anyway, as I was saying, things are very black and white for our Gwyn and she is hands down the best I know at compartmentalizing. She's so focused on figuring you out and getting over that panic attack, that I'm guessing you're the more self-aware between the two of you when it comes to the bigger picture. You're asking yourself the question. Even though we have established that you have no idea what it means."

"I'm starting to get an idea."

"A hard-on is not an idea, Az."

"It's not NOT an idea. Plus, fuck off, Archeron."

"Is that really the best you can do?"

"Well, I'd tell you to eat a dick, but you'd probably do it at our dining room table."

"Much better. Now go talk to Gwyn before her head explodes."

Azriel approached Gwyn as she finished her fourth pass on the stack of bandages. "Need help with those, Priestess?"

"What? Oh, these? No." Gwyn responded nervously.

"Seems like maybe there is something on your mind?"

"I was thinking if you're not busy, we could resume with a new experiment. If you're still comfortable with that. With me." Azriel's heart sped up at the idea.

"I am truly comfortable, and I appreciate your concern. I do have a quick mission, but it shouldn't take more than a few days, and then I'm all yours."

He was pleased to notice her breath hitched at his words. He was a patient male. He also didn't feel the need to play fair. Flirting with Gwyn was like breathing and there was no reason to feel guilty about doing it.

It's not like I'm her boss. Training is just informal coaching. If the Valkyries are eventually enlisted within the chain of command, they would answer to Cassian as General and never to me.

Or?

Or… directly to Rhys. That would make more sense actually. Rhys should appoint a Valkyrie general who would report to him alongside Cassian.

Any general?

It would be Nesta. I'm sure it would be Nesta. They would all agree.

Is training the only time you have authority over our Little Valkyrie?

The experiments would get awkward if I made her uncomfortable with my flirting.

To what end?

She could quit them entirely. That would be horrible. For the record, she did say my arousal smelled lovely and she would think about it more when she was alone in bed.

She did. Is arousal flirting?

You know it isn't. It was unintentional. I couldn't help it.

Could that fact have impacted her response?

It could have. So, the best strategy for both of us would be to keep things as normal as possible until she decides that she has learned all that she needs to know from the experiments.

And then?

If things are still unclear between us, I have to tell her how I feel and deal with the consequences. I want to be her friend, but at their core, my feelings are not those of friendship. I won't make those same mistakes. There was too much pain.

***

"Are you in need of sanctuary, Shadowsinger?" The scratch of her quill was oddly soothing, but the question itself jarred Azriel out of his stupor and he refused to meet her eyes. His mission had gone terribly, violently wrong.

"I am." Clotho nodded at his rasped response.

"As much for your sake as well as for the priestesses who reside here, I will offer you a chance to bathe first. I can assure you of perfect privacy. Once you have washed the blood of our enemies from your capable hands, you may enter the library for sanctuary and prayer." Azriel did not turn to leave.

"What if it doesn't come off?" His voice was barely his own and his eyes never left his hands. Clotho was unaccustomed to eye contact with most directing their conversations to her pen and paper, but something in his detachment frightened her. They relied on their Spymaster and she was watching him break apart.

"As you wash, trust that you bathe in sacred waters. Imagine the water is fortified by the thankful tears of those you have returned from the brink. Returned with those very hands. They will be clean again."

Azriel could only nod his appreciation.

"May I ask a personal question?" He nodded again.

"Is it Gwyneth that you have come to watch?" Her question startled life back into his eyes.

"Her presence is powerful, but it is the music, the peace infused into this place that I need. Gwyn has spoken to me of the healing powers in the evening service." Azriel met her eyes at last. "I have not come to your sanctuary seeking affection if that is what worries you."

"I do not own this sanctuary, though you may enter with my blessing. But stay veiled and disturb no one, not even Gwyneth. Some would not understand your presence at this hour. I regret that we cannot offer peace to the many males of our court who suffer, but it cannot be so. You are my one exception. Be well, Shadowsinger. And if I may be so bold. Do not scorn the power of affection. Eluding death is challenging, but it is not living."

Clotho's words echoed in his heart as he washed away the blood and grime of his latest mission. The steam rising around him mingled with the shadows, which had become oddly quiet. Perhaps trusting that he was finally asking for and receiving the care he needed. Perhaps seeking redemption themselves.

Words left him entirely as he entered the service itself. Azriel watched no one on these visits, save his own soul. From an overlooked alcove, he turned his face away from the crowd of priestesses. Instead, he allowed their voices to simply wash over him like summer rain and added to them his own low hum and grateful tears.

***

Days later, Azriel's impatience to be alone with Gwyn had gotten the best of him.

He'd run the recruits through their circuits at breakneck speed. His speed had the dual benefit of satisfying both his rigorous professional pride and ensuring that they were done well before lunch. Before lunch meant that he and Gwyn had their experiments before the noon meal, instead of after as previously planned.

He had daydreamed through training about skipping lunch in the dining room and eating alone with her in his office or suggesting a picnic on one of the balconies. Azriel couldn't afford to daydream any longer. He was sitting at his desk, watching as the sun caught bits of dust drifting lazily onto Gwyn's prone body.

"This isn't working. I'm not even a little bit terrified right now, Shadowsinger."

"I still forget that isn't actually a good thing." Azriel was pleased when Gwyn chuckled in agreement, but he noted she did not lift her face from the flat surface of his desk. "I could grab your hair and pull your head back a bit?"

"Oh, that's good. That could work. They didn't do that when they attacked me, but it is a great idea. Very menacing. Very smart. Yank away."

During previous sessions, Azriel had perfected a slight twist of his body that allowed him to press his thigh against the outside of her hips and rear as he leaned menacingly over her body. This protected Gwyn from a touch that she was clearly not ready to feel pressed against her. Azriel also knew that he was not ready to learn how his cock might fit into the hollow of her ass and thighs. The shadows had finally gotten the handle on masking his scent, which he suspected was more for her comfort than to save him from his previous embarrassment.

Azriel threaded his fingers into the roots of her hair just above the nape of her neck and closed his fist gently but firmly. He was dominating her body more than he ever had before, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying it immensely. Possibly because none of it had sparked any fear in her. Azriel used his grip to turn Gwyn's face to the side resting her beautiful cheek flat on his desk. He needed to see her face and to look into her eyes for any sign of alarm or panic.

His free hand came to rest on the desk, just to the left of her face. He felt her body hum back in response to his increasing closeness. Azriel could feel her softening and melting in what his body immediately recognized as a purely carnal invitation. One that he was not sure Gwyn even fully understood yet.

"Um, no. That is NOT working as planned."

Azriel took a long, steadying breath to calm his instincts. It was a mistake. He knew immediately that the delicious scent hanging in the air was both entirely new to these experiments and entirely Gwyn.

Mother, save me! Gwyn is aroused by my hands in her hair. By my control over her body, and she smells fucking amazing.

Focus. Little Valkyrie cannot help her reaction. It doesn't mean she is ready for you to respond in kind.

"Interesting." Her voice sounded anything but clinical. "Let's put a pin in that for sure. But I'm not here to find out what turns me on. I'm trying to trigger fear and then breathe through it and release it."

Azriel realized that he should be removing his hand from her luscious hair and probably moving away from her body, at least slightly, to show that he had heard her and that he would respect her autonomy. Normally, he wouldn't wait until she asked, but these experiments were by her design. They were specifically about her autonomy, and he could hear the wheels turning in her head. He would move the moment she commanded him and not a moment before. Plus, he didn't want to move.

"I'm gonna have to disagree with you there, Berdara. Sounds like a lofty and worthy endeavor to me. A male could make his life's work out of something like that." He pitched forward a little further above her as he moved to speak into her ear. His own breath abandoned him as he got closer and her scent became overpowering.

His hand slid from her hair to hold the nape of her neck. Under different circumstances, this subtle transition would be aimed at increasing the sensuality of his touch and decreasing his domination. He should have remembered. He felt her whole body freeze in sheer, unadulterated terror. Outside of the training ring, he took no joy in her pain. His body tensed in response and he felt a wave of nausea cresting through him as her scent soured into something with a metallic tang. How could he be the cause of this terror? The wrongness of the scent disoriented him and he repositioned his hand on the desk for balance.

She sighed audibly in disgust.

"I hate to say this, but can you please cover your hands? Maybe gloves?" Gwyn sounded disappointed and embarrassed. He pulled away from her. He had to leave that room.

Breathe. Listen. Trust. Let her in.

"I should have thought of that. I'm sorry. They must be uncomfortable. My hands, scars, I mean. They are probably disgusting on your skin."

"What?" She cranked her head to look him in the eye but didn't rise from the desk. She wasn't finished with this experiment somehow. "No. Not at all. Disgusting would work better. Because we were onto something there for a moment. I was truly terrified. You did great. But I can feel the scars and well, they just distracted me, is all. As soon as I remember that it is you, I'm not afraid anymore. Your hands are just too soothing. They are the epitome of safety. For me, I mean. For Hybern soldiers, not so much."

Azriel released her neck and stumbled back against the chair silently.

Too soothing? The epitome of safety? Mother, bless her.

The Mother has blessed you both.

"I can put gloves on." Azriel tried to smirk as he crossed the room. He had gloves everywhere in this office, but the walk to the small closet near the door gave him time to think and clear his head. "While I do, can you please remind me of what our goal is here? You were terrified. I felt that right away. It was palpable. Then you worked through it. You froze, and then I could practically hear the wheels turning. Your rational brain told you that I'm not really a threat. Wouldn't that be a success? You've come so far. You don't have to be ok with all touch, Gwyn. Nobody is, nor should they be for that matter."

Azriel was pleased to see her comfortably pull herself up to a seated position on his desk, for several reasons, and not all of them decent.

"See! I knew I picked the right Shadowsinger for my team." She beamed across at him. He returned to his chair and tried to look exasperated. Truthfully, he was glad the teasing was back. Her feet were now dangling off the desk playfully between his knees and he was getting distracted again.

"I'm the only Shadowsinger, Gwyn."

"Stop bragging and focus." Grinning, she continued. "Now, tell me more about what you're thinking. I'm curious. This feels like an important distinction."

"Well, we have been working on all the ways you might be grabbed in training. The goal is for you to feel confident that you won't snap on one of the other trainees, or perhaps most importantly on one of your dedicated and undervalued trainers." She rolled her eyes, but her ease felt genuine. "So. What do you say, Priestess? Do you feel confident in the ring? Are Cassian and I safe from your unchecked rage?"

Her laughter was adorable and calming "You're both safe."

"I think so too. But, I meant it when I said I wanted to keep helping you." She blushed at the reminder of their intimate night on the couch. "So. What will we be working on now? What do you want to conquer that you can't do on your own?" Hopefully, she would come up with some way for him to continue helping her.

"Priestesses are not required to be celibate."

That was NOT what I thought she was going to say. In a million fucking years, that was not what I thought would come out of her perfect little mouth right now.

Focus. She is speaking. You are ruining it.

"Many are very far from it." She continued shyly.

"I'm aware." Azriel had heard stories that would curl her toes. Hopefully.

"I'd like to think that I might also have that freedom someday."

Freedom sounds good. I'm all for freedom. Ask anyone. Big fan of freedom.

Focus. She is speaking. You are ruining it. Again.

"And…" She stalled and his heart broke for her. "And. I guess it just makes me sad to think that my hypothetical lover, whoever he might be, would have to deal with my terror. I can't imagine that it is very sexy. At least, for me, it is a pretty major buzzkill."

"Your hypothetical lover should be hypothetically fucking honored to deal with anything you deign to share with him." Azriel snarled with a heat that did not surprise him in the slightest. Gwyn deserved to be worshiped in her entirety, fears and all.

"Well. Honor aside. I think I would feel better about the future if I found some way to get more comfortable with the concept on my own. I understand that nothing is a guarantee and I may deal with some level of fear my whole life, but there must be more I can do to, well.. prepare." She sounded so defeated that Azriel knew he had to get her out of her head.

"Is this when you ask me to "whip it out" again?" He teased and reached for his belt. She barked with laughter and he knew it had worked.

"First, I never asked you to do any such thing, Sassmouth. And second, I'm clearly not ready for that, like.. at all."

"Fair enough, Priestess." This conversation was getting surprisingly easy. "You mentioned initially that you have trouble with completion. Achieving an orgasm, I mean."

"I knew what you meant. But, have no fear. I've got that bit sorted. Worked that part out all on my lonesome. Turns out that can be a solo gig. Might even be easier alone."

"What do you mean?"

"Being relaxed enough when you're alone is one thing. You have complete control. Easier to get out of your own way. I guess now that we are talking about it, I don't know if I can orgasm with someone else. Or even, in front of anyone. Much less let them touch me."

She is correct, of course. I struggled with that myself.

Tell her.

Not in a million years am I telling that story to a female with whom I may, in all honesty, be falling in love.

You are falling in love with her. You will tell her. You will tell her more than just that story.

"As you say, I can stay calm in the face of violent hands grabbing me, but will I ever be comfortable with the opposite? That's the goal. Don't kill Cassian and be, well, lovable, I guess."

"Gwyn, you are the epitome of lovable."

"You know what I meant. So I've been trying to work out how to get comfortable without risking ruining my first real relationship."

"All of your relationships are real, Gwyneth. Even if they are not sexual." The tightening around his heart told him that there was only one sexual relationship he was comfortable with her ever having.

"It does take a lot of trust. Comfort in your own body. Would it help if I told you about my first sexual experience?"

You continue to argue despite knowing that we speak the truth.

"It's so like you to just go on and on about yourself, Az." Her smile calmed him.

She called me Az.

She did.

"Please."

"I paid for it." Azriel prayed his shame was not visible. "I've always been more comfortable paying for it. I had her tie my hands so I wouldn't have to see them at all or touch her with them. I was young with raging hormones and very eager to lose my virginity, especially since I couldn't orgasm on my own. Because of my hands, you see. What kind of pubescent male isn't turned on by his own hand?"

"Easy. One who has been denied touch, then tortured, demeaned, and left visibly scarred as a child."

Holy shit. There isn't a single thing I wouldn't do for this one-quarter nymph, all Valkyrie, Carynthian, Goddess. I will die loving her.

You are starting to understand.

"Oh. That was rhetorical? By all means, go on."

"Eventually, I made peace with it, although it has still worried me sometimes when I've taken a new lover. That she will be disgusted by my scars. So, I'm very careful who I touch. As I said, there has to be a lot of trust. Sometimes it is faster to pay for that trust. And, I don't know what you've heard, but the pleasure houses are rather safe and accepting places in Velaris. Many who work there are even trained in the healing arts. They understand the need for physical touch and sexual release."

"Oh, I know. I had a friend once leave the library for a pleasure house." He wasn't surprised. "Her past wasn't sexual. Physical and violent and utterly horrific, but not sexual. She found sensual touch very rewarding and eventually quite therapeutic." They were quiet for a moment.

"Maybe I should talk to her. They have men too, right? At these houses? So you think they could help me? Is that what you're saying, Az?"

"What? Oh! Dear gods, no. I'm not suggesting you visit a pleasure house, Gwyn."

Does she think I would send her to a pleasure house? Was Nesta right?

Lady Death is quite observant.

Could Gwyn be more clueless than me when it comes to relationships?

Our Little Valkyrie is very young. This is all new to her. Be patient. Your instincts are not wrong. She has no interest in a pleasure house, but she will not assume.

"Good for the goose, huh?" She groused openly and he couldn't help the chuckle. Just like that, it was easy between them again.

"That is not what I meant either. Look. I'm saying touch is important. And I'm saying that you don't need to be uncomfortable asking me for help with aspects of your recovery that might feel even further removed from the combat training we started with. You won't make me uncomfortable, even with very personal things."

Well done.

Did I rush it? Felt like I rushed it?

Focus.

"Thank you, Azriel. I will think about it. I don't want to give up and I do think I'm ready to push myself out of my comfort zone some more. I just don't know what that is yet."

I have an idea of how to push her. Would you be willing to help?

We have been helping for most of your long life.

This would be somewhat new.

"You know what, Shadowsinger, you're not nearly as stuck up as everyone says." She winked at him.

It is new because our Little Valkyrie is new. For her, we are willing. It is a good plan. She is ready now. Strong Brother approaches. It is time for you to leave for lunch.

"Is it really that late?" He whispered out loud before catching himself. Azriel tried for a pleasant smile, but he was sure the excitement turned it menacing. "Do you trust me, Berdara?" Her nod was all he needed before he was on his feet again brimming with energy. "Stand up. Position yourself on the desk, just as before, please."

Gwyn bent forward over his desk, crossing her delicate wrists at the small of her back. The shadows swirled around her wrists as they had done dozens of times since they started these experiments. Azriel started for the door, hands aching to touch her. His hand grabbed the nob as he heard his brother's stomping feet echoing toward them.

Gwyn's head shot up, but the shadows didn't release her.

"Ah. That would be Cassian coming to let me know that they are ready for lunch. The shadows warned me that he was on his way down. I think I will just meet him in the hall and head up for a quick bite."

"Don't you dare leave me here like this, Az."

"Like what, Berdara? You need a challenge and here is a challenge. You said it yourself, my presence is too soothing. Isn't that what you called me?"

"I've changed my mind."

"You're just nervous. That's a good sign."

"You're an asshole."

"I'm really not. Look. If you truly want up, the shadows will let you up and you can join us for lunch."

"They will listen to me?"

"Of course. They understand that it is not my intention to do you any real harm."

"But what if I need you?"

"The shadows will tell me. In a way, I can be in both places at once. I will be able to hear and sense anything that is happening in here. But, you'll also probably feel a bit exposed and vulnerable without me in the room. That's the test, isn't it? If you're ready."

"Fine. But if Cassian finds out about this, I will end you."

Leaving her tied up on my desk sounded sexy a moment ago, but what if we are pushing her too far? Another attack will set her so far back.

Little Valkyrie will be fine. Her ideas are better than yours.

I don't know what that means.

We know. Leave. You will find out.

"Go already!" She barked and he seemed to shake off his daze. "Exposed. Vulnerable." He could hear her repeating his words to herself as he shut the door.

"Hey, I was just coming to get you two for lunch. Is Gwyn coming?" Azriel tried not to smirk.

"She's tied up right now with some research. But she might join us later." Azriel felt the shadows expanding and covering her eyes.

I didn't ask you to do that.

"Thanks." Azriel heard her mumble.

Does she want to be blindfolded? Are you inside her head? It's a great idea. I just didn't think she was ready for that stuff.

Azriel felt a vague sense of pride radiating back to him. Had she known of his approval? How was any of this possible? He felt her shiver.

Little Valkyrie senses you are watching her.

This was a different experiment. He had expected her to feel exposed, but what he sensed was sensual nakedness. His cock hardened slightly in response. As he followed Cassian into the dining room, a shadow curled around each of her thighs. They slid her heavy robes up and over her ass. Azriel nearly missed his chair. Nesta and Cassian watched him in alarm.

"You ok, brother?"

"Fine. Just really hungry. Probably waited too long to eat."

"It's noon. We eat at this time every day."

Azriel sensed goosebumps form as a breeze kissed her creamy skin. The shadows skimmed gently over her and, at a thought from Azriel, started to trace delicate swirls on every bit of available flesh. Azriel dropped his fork as the shadows removed her panties. He could sense her triumph and heard her respond. "Enjoying the show, Shadowsinger?"

"I'm ready."

Wait. Was that her or you? Ready for what? What is she ready for?

Watch.

A shadow nuzzled her clit, stroking back and forth as the smell of her arousal filled his head. It was followed quickly by frustration and shame. Azriel rose from his chair.

"I forgot something important in my office." Eyebrows rose, but thankfully neither Cassian nor Nesta questioned him further for now.

He reached his office with no idea how to proceed. His hand was on the nob, but he knew he couldn't enter without her permission. He scuffed the toe of his boot against the door and let his head fall gently forward. His eyes closed in concentration.

"Help me."

It is me that she needs.

Little Valkyrie must know it is you.

Then remind her what I feel like on her body.

At his thought, the shadows released her hands and more joined them. They gripped her hair until he was sure she could feel his scarred hand tightening into a fist.

Show her what I wanted to do to her before.

This time the shadows pushed against her with the weight of one of his muscular thighs between her own. Shadows pulled her hips away from the desk until the pressure of his body pushed tight against her core. They pulsed in a sensual rhythm that he felt building in her body.

Let go, Gwyn. I've got you.

He prayed that she would listen. When she did, he could hear the impact of her release on her breath, her heartbeat, and her scent still filling the room beyond that door. His cock twitched painfully with the need to feel her release tight around him.

He felt her joy. He knew her smile without seeing it. And, he knew he was irrevocably fucked.

"Let go, Gwyn. I've got you."

The words reverberated through his mind and every inch of his massive frame. Azriel stumbled unfocused through the halls of the House of Wind. A powerful urge drew him back toward his office, toward her half-naked body, but still, he inched forward. He knew that he should give her time to collect herself. He needed time to collect himself.

What the fuck was that?

It was a healing. It was a powerful, beautiful connection. It was really hot. It was a good start.

Azriel knew himself to be a thorough and giving lover. He took great pride in confirming that his partners did not leave his bed even remotely unsatisfied. People liked to guess at his kinks and they were not wrong to assume that he was adventurous when he decided to take a lover. What they didn't guess and what he tried to ignore was that he had no real desires of his own. He craved physical intimacy and the affectionate touch and release that it usually entailed, but his specific wants completely depended on the predilections of his current partner.

He wasn't dominant, nor was he naturally submissive. On his own, he wasn't particularly into sucking on a lover's toes, being tied up, or even the knife kink that Nesta liked to gossip about during her little sleepovers. Though he had achieved his release to each at various periods in his life. He had very few actual rules: no fire, no chains, and he would never willingly submit his body to a lash. Outside of those rules, he was completely open.

He had a lover centuries ago who needed to feel a whip across her back to achieve orgasm. He was more than happy to oblige. So long as he did no lasting damage and he completely understood the sincerity of her desires, he was game. His sensitivity to micro-expressions and the slightest change in another's posture, heartbeat, and the shallowness of their breathing made him uniquely qualified to transform himself into whatever they needed to see, feel, or hear to push them over the edge into bliss or terror. Azriel had spent the entirety of his service to the Night Court transforming himself into a living nightmare.

Since he couldn't turn it off, he had learned to apply it. His most intense sexual experiences came when he read his lover's desires perfectly and tuned his whole existence to match that frequency. His participation was sincere and gratifying, and it didn't feel like penance. It felt like balance, and balance had to be enough. He offered his lovers many things, just not himself. His sensitivity to others pushed his desires deep within him until even he was unaware. He would never risk their repulsion. It may feel impersonal and hollow, but it was the best he could hope for and it was better than conceding to be a damn monster.

Does this feel impersonal and hollow?

No. It does not. I've never felt more awake or more alive.

Slumping against the wall, Azriel waited outside the dining room. He could hear Cassian and Nesta finishing lunch.

They delay to observe your return. They are fully dressed.

He had to calm his breathing and hopefully reign in his obvious erection before the others saw him. Nothing was working. All he could think about was Gwyn's perfect ass bent over his desk, her arousal dripping onto those damn reports from Devlon, and the beautiful melody of her powerful release.

You have a thing for Little Valkyrie's ass.

Do not mention her ass to me right now. And, no. I do not.

You've been fantasizing about it for months.

Just fantasies. I fantasized about Elain.

Wondering what a beautiful female might taste or sound like is not a fetish. You've given as many passing thoughts to that bartender at Rita's.

The bartender at Rita's is attractive and extremely eager. Don't make me sound like a pervert.

Have you been dreaming of bending her over a bathroom sink? Watching her eyes reflected as she begs for your cock? The feel of her ass in your hands, against your stomach, as you…

The memory of the dream came back to him so powerfully that he felt himself taking three steps back in her direction and his cock pressing painfully against his pants.

Of course not. It has just been Gwyn. You know that already and you are still not at all helpful. Not even remotely helpful to me right now.

It just seems pretty specific. We are being helpful, by the way. You just don't understand yet. Now that you know what she sounds like, and smells like, do you think you'll stop dreaming of her?

Depends. Am I dreaming now?

No. This is craving. This is need. This is hope.

This is new, that's what it is. These experiments were her idea though. The blindfold and the shadow play were both her ideas, not mine.

And were those details the things that truly excited her today?

I have no idea what she was thinking. Maybe they do excite her, but what she seemed to need today was me.

And did you enjoy the blindfold?

No. I want her eyes on me the whole time.

And the restraints?

No. I want her hands free to explore. I want to feel her nails biting into my skin. She could tie me to the headboard though. Not with shadows, no offense, but with belts. Thick straps, just like those thigh holsters she wears above her leathers for her knives. Those would work nicely against my wrists.

Maybe you do have a knife kink?

Maybe I do. Wouldn't that be something after all these years? I want to watch her take complete control over me, over every bit of our joining. Not just to know that she felt safe, but so I could just let go and focus on the feeling for once. Maybe someday.

And today?

Today I need to calm the fuck down. This goes at her pace. Always.

Good. Because she is on her way.

Here? She is coming to lunch after that?

Apparently. She is comfortable. She is quite smug.

The first thing Azriel noticed as he entered the dining room was that his barely touched sandwich from earlier had been replaced with a bizarre-looking salad that he had never once eaten before and definitely did not request today. Cassian and Nesta watched him with a highly amused curiosity. Cassian looked surprised to see him back at lunch. Nesta did not. They both seemed poised to strike with a flurry of questions, but they were interrupted by the House. The balcony doors blew open and a crisp breeze blew through the room, silencing the trio.

The House will mask what scent remains of your arousal and hers.

Hers?

Nesta opened her mouth again to speak, and a fresh plate appeared at Gwyn's normal seat next to Az. The same strange salad filled her plate. Gwyn nearly floated into the room and settled into her chair with a clear-eyed smile for each of them.

"Sorry that I'm late." She glanced down at her plate. "Ooh. Seared tuna with a poached quail egg. Various nutritive seeds and a smattering of fresh fruits. Great for lowering blood pressure and preparing the body for deep meditation. I've read about this in my research." Gwyn beamed.

"Are you having trouble with your blood pressure, Azriel?" Nesta smirked. He had expected it from Cassian, but apparently, his brother was attempting to afford him a level of privacy. The House can mask their scents all it wanted and he would be grateful, but his brother knew him well and Nesta could read people long before she could truly scent them. They had no way of knowing the details, but they could guess that something had just changed between the friends.

"I'm seriously considering mind-stilling. I'm starting to see the potential." Azriel deadpanned and took a bite of the salad. The salad turned out to be delicious and packed with all of his necessary protein. He turned his discerning gaze on Gwyn. He'd expected her to be awkward or shy. Perhaps that would come later. For now, she was still a bit euphoric and giddy with clear triumph. Over him or herself?

There is something else shining there too.

Little Valkyrie is grateful.

Are you telling her secrets now?

Little Valkyrie wants you to know her.

Before his body could catch up with where his mind was already heading, a cup of tea and a small pastry appeared before him.

"What the hell?!" Cassian blurted just as Gwyn exclaimed. "Ooh. That looks sweet."

"It is. Sort of." Azriel stared down at the gift. "It is kouign amann. A flaky pastry made by folding in tons of layers of thick butter before baking and caramelizing a touch of sugar on top."

Azriel broke off a sizable chunk before passing the plate to Gwyn. It was his favorite and hard to share.

"Is that from… ?" Cassian asked delicately and Az finally met his eyes.

"No. There is a bakery in town that has started to make them lately. This one looks like one of theirs."

"Still, why is the House being so nice to you these days?" Nesta said it like an accusation and her eyes narrowed on him.

"It gave him a damn salad, Nes. I wouldn't call that overly nice." Cassian sneered at the two plates in obvious confusion and trepidation.

Everyone turned to stare at Gwyn who had just moaned loudly around a mouthful of flaky, buttery pastry. A few crumbs lingered on her wet lips. "Azriel, you just have to take me there! Promise?"

"Um. Sure. I'm happy to fly you down whenever you want to go."

He could hear the hope in his voice and he looked around nervously. He noticed Nesta's face soften at the sound, and Gwyn passed her the small plate with the remaining bits of sweet pastry.

His eyes found Gwyn's again as he imagined holding her in his arms as they flew above the city looking for the bakery and perhaps an intimate park to enjoy the sweets together in the grass. The tender moment was interrupted by both Nesta's moan of approval and Cassian's trademark, deep whole body laugh.

"Hope you don't have a date later tonight, brother. Or whoever she is will be terribly disappointed with your performance, or lack thereof, I should say." Cassian was sniffing the tea cup and laughing."This is spiced with licorice!"

Nesta and Gwyn stared back blankly, while Az knew his face was turning pink.

The House could be more private when it decides to help.

In private, you could help yourself.

Not until I know what Gwyn wants from me. I won't degrade her progress by using it while fisting my own cock like some sweaty teenager.

Maybe your new fetish can be delayed gratification.

I would not call that new.

Did you just make a joke?

Apparently.

"Az and I were gonna make Rhys drink this before our next trip to the birchin, just in case Feyre decides to send nudes down the bond again." When recognition didn't dawn on the faces of the females, he continued. "It lowers testosterone to a hopefully more manageable level."

Azriel felt his face continue to burn. All embarrassment was forgotten as he noted the look of utter horror that flashed across Gwyn's face. Perhaps she was uncomfortable with erections being discussed openly during their noon meal, or more specifically HIS erections. Nesta and Gwyn just glared at the offending cup of tea with clear distaste that such a thing not only existed but had the audacity to be currently just sitting on their table.

Perhaps not that uncomfortable after all.

At a slightly disappointed pout that Gwyn probably was not even aware had appeared on her beautiful face, a second pastry joined the crumbly remains of the first. The females smiled distractedly. Cassian gave a supportive nod, and Azriel quietly sipped his tea.

***

Thankfully, the House had also agreed to clear the temptingly delicious smell of Gwyn from his desk. After the first moment back in that chair, Azriel knew he would never be able to get through the many days worth of spy reports that had been waiting for him on his return without help. Eris was up to something and piecing it together took all of the Spymaster's concentration. The licorice tea had been helping too. He was sincere when he said that he felt it would degrade her progress to use those moments on his desk as fodder for his wet dreams. These experiments were for her and not about whatever feelings were currently taking root in his heart and lower.

Azriel was still cataloging all the reasons why he needed to keep himself under control as he flew to the River House to report his finding to Rhys and calculate the next steps. That control nearly slipped when he detected faint traces of Gwyn on the air in the River House and his nostrils flared trying to draw in more of her scent.

"Smell something interesting?" Elain mocked from further down the hallway. His shadows had warned him of her approach from the kitchen, but he forgot the moment he scented Gwyn. Distracted like a hound on a scent. Her scent. Why was Gwyn at the River House? Or, was he now imagining her scent everywhere? Was he finally going completely insane?

"Could just be my vivid imagination."

"It isn't, but I know what that feels like." At the questioning tilt of his head, she continued. "I can scent her too. That nymph everyone is so besotted with these days." The attempt at a sneer didn't suit her face.

"Are you jealous of Gwyn?"

"Not really. She's too sweet to incur much wrath. I kinda like her despite everything." Before Azriel could respond, she rushed on. "Maybe I'm just developing a thing for redheads after all."

He couldn't tell if she was aiming for a retaliatory blow or if this was just her attempt to broach a delicate topic. Maybe she didn't even know for herself. Either way, he was surprised at how little it bothered him. He didn't take the obvious bait. It was not out of avoidance, he noted, but something else had snagged his curiosity more than her newfound interest in Lucien and curiosity about Gwyn.

"What did you mean when you said you know what that feels like?"

"Thinking you are imagining things." She nodded gently toward a nearby bench and they sat a polite distance apart without even thinking.

"Even before the visions. I had very vivid dreams. Did I ever tell you that?"

He just shook his head negligibly, not wanting to distract her at all. It seemed like she had something she needed to say to him and that felt important to their budding friendship. He could hope they could be friends.

"I used to wake up as a child thinking I had attended the most beautiful ball, full of these amazing creatures, only to find out that it was just a painfully vivid dream. Gave mother fits. She was so embarrassed by the things I would blurt out before I knew they were dreams. Some of those dream memories are as clear to me today as the things that everyone else claimed as real." She sighed with what sounded strangely like longing. "I think that's why it was so easy for me to pretend away the poverty and the loss. I probably wouldn't have even needed Tamlin's glamor to accept our newfound wealth without question."

Azriel nodded encouragingly though none of it made much sense to him. If his life suffered from anything, and it did, it was from way too much reality.

"Then Feyre is High Fae. Then we all are. And the visions came and who knows what is real and what matters at all. Sometimes I just fall back on what I know best."

"The garden?"

"The garden."

"The running of the household?"

"The running of the household."

"Societal maneuverings?"

"Ah. I wondered if you would ask. I am sorry for being so forward with Gwyn at family dinner. It does feel like she should be my rival, even though I do know better now."

"Could that be your mother's influence?"

"Is that what Nesta thinks?" Azriel just shrugged off her rather keen observation.

"She would know, wouldn't she?" A hardness came across her features that he rarely saw. "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm finally getting my bearings here thanks to some help."

"Are you?"

"I am." Her smile was as mischievous as he could recall ever seeing grace her face. "Nuala and Cerridwen have been shockingly helpful. You'd think they would be the most insubstantial parts of my life, but not at all. They gave me a romance novel."

"Not you too." Azriel smiled.

"Not that trash that Nesta and her Valkyries read. This is more of a regency romance. I think they thought it might help me understand the courts and mating bonds, though they were not very pushy about it. I think that's why we get along so well."

"And let me guess, your little regency romance novel made mating bonds seem all very civilized?"

"You say that like it is a bad thing."

"It is not."

"But, it is not for you."

"It is not." He refused to look away though every part of him wanted to hide.

"Did we even know each other at all, Azriel?"

"Of course, we did. Some version of ourselves at least."

"Have you met her yet then? Your mate? Is it Gwyn?" The question seemed sincere, but he still flinched. Azriel had been trying hard not to ask that even of himself. No bond had snapped for him and he was starting to think that it never would. He knew he could love her without a mating bond and be happy, but what if a bond snapped someday with someone else? For him or for her? How much pain was he destined to bring to those he loved?

"I won't speak to another of things I have not said to her, but I can say that I'm not aware of any mating bond."

"How respectful you are all of a sudden? Have you spoken to her of me?

"I have."

"So. We are, both of us, hypocrites?"

"It felt right to talk to her about my feelings. It wasn't a lack of respect. She's helped me understand a lot about myself and what I'm looking for from this world."

"Good. Maybe if Lucien was more forward, I could learn a few things too. Until then, I hear my book is just the first in a whole series."

Azriel stood to leave. He was dangerously close to being late for his meeting with Rhys and he didn't want to bother with explaining his delay.

"Happy reading to you, Elain."

"Happy hunting to you, Azriel." There was a solemnity in her voice that left him uneasy. Was there more that she knew and wasn't saying? Had she glimpsed his doom? Had he inspired enough loyalty to expect a warning even from her? Would he even heed it?

Azriel approached the balcony of the House of Wind knowing that he was at least fifteen minutes too early for his scheduled outing with Gwyn. His excitement had been overwhelming him all day and he needed to gather his thoughts before facing her. His hand reached the knob just as his eyes caught a glimpse of auburn hair through the glass.

You could have warned me that she was already here.

True.

He watched her nervously scan the skies with her back to the glass doors between them. She was expecting him to make some grand swooping entrance. Truthfully, he had considered it more than once, but he wanted today to be different. As she started to turn, he took in the slight curve of her high cheek and delicate chin and his breath caught. He would be flying with her today, which meant holding her in his arms. That same cheek would be tucked against the sensitive skin of his neck. It would be the first time that they had touched since that day on his desk. His heart started to race and he vanished back into the hall once more to collect himself.

While sleep had become an actual nightly occurrence for Azriel over the past week, it only seemed to clear his head enough to overthink everything remotely related to Gwyn. He wanted today to feel easy, open, and equal for both of them. He dressed more slowly than usual, purposefully choosing his softest casual wear. He was always more comfortable in black, assuming it detracted somewhat from the off-putting sight of the shadows sliding across his body. There would be no training leathers today. Training was a sacred space, and he had mostly succeeded in keeping their flirty banter to a minimum there. All of the priestesses deserved that respect and teaching Gwyn to defend herself was his most honored task. He would defend her with his life and the reality of that truth was frequently sobering. Their lives were dangerous and their court was fraught with powerful enemies. She needed to know how to protect herself and those she chooses to love, particularly when he was no longer there to aid her.

That is not what today is about, Shadowsinger.

True.

That day was about exploration. For Gwyn, it meant exploring the streets of Velaris with its crowded shops and welcoming street vendors. For Azriel, it was a journey inward. It meant acknowledging a capacity for tenderness that he had never afforded himself and couldn't swear had ever once been offered. They hadn't discussed the events of last week, events that changed everything for Azriel. Thankfully, things had not been awkward between them and hopefully, today would be another good day.

Deep breath.

We don't breathe.

Idiots.

Did that make you feel better?

Loads.

"So. Where are we heading today, Priestess? The bakery? The park?" Hopefully, she would agree to both and they could watch the day turn to night in the city. Azriel tried to hide his smirk as he watched her scan his body with blatant hunger, barely registering that he had asked her a question.

"A massage, Shadowsinger." Gwyn rasped.

"Is that a request or have you decided to answer my question, Berdara?"

"You've got a lot of cheek today, you know that!" Today would, in fact, be a very good day.

"I've been getting much better sleep lately." He admitted feeling a blush creep across his face that made it hard to meet her eyes.

Thankfully, he glanced up in time to see her gaze fall suggestively to his muscular thigh. She knew why he was sleeping and it was her turn to blush guiltily. He attempted not to smirk and failed.

"I have an appointment with a massage therapist in the city. As we have discussed, touch and physical affection are critical to psychological well-being and mental health." Her tone had a semblance of professionalism. Impressive, given her filthy thoughts from a moment ago.

"What kind of place are you taking me, Berdara?"

"Cool your jets, SpyBoy. It isn't that kind of massage. And, you're the one taking me, remember?"

"How did you find out about her?"

"Who said my therapist is a female?"

Kill me now.

Focus.

"Whatever you need is fine. I mean, if you want a massage from a man, that would make a certain amount of sense too. I guess, now that I think about it. Not that I'm thinking about it. I mean… "

You are rambling. Like an absolute lunatic. Little Valkyrie finds it adorable, but stop before you frighten her away.

"You gonna be okay, Az?"

"I hope so."

"Good. Because my therapist is a female. I was just jerking your chain. I'm not asking you to fly me to Velaris so some stranger male can rub me down with oils." His relief was quickly replaced with curiosity as she smirked mischievously. "It was a powerful orgasm, but it wasn't a miracle cure. I've still got a long way before I'm ready for something like that."

In fact, she came all over my desk while imagining me moving between her legs.

We know.

It is still a fucking miracle. Have some respect.

"While we are there, I think you should talk to her about booking time for yourself."

What is she talking about?

Maybe it has something to do with respect. Ask her.

"I've had strangers rub me down with oils no problem, Berdara."

"She isn't just there to work out the kinks."

She just said kinks.

We know. Little Valkyrie is nervous.

"Holy shit, that came out wrong." Gwyn was adorable when she got flustered. "Just meet her and talk to her, is all I'm saying, and be open, I guess."

"Will do, Priestess."

"Today, just fly me there and maybe wait around for a bit. It might not take very long."

She expects this to fail. This isn't her first try.

True.

Should I ask her about it? If she's had a bad experience, perhaps we should run through what went wrong and prepare accordingly. Figure out what the trigger was and avoid it next time.

No. She will be fine. You both will.

"You never said how you heard about her?"

"I've been doing research for a while. A friend of mine recommended massage therapy." Did she look guilty for some reason or was it just his insecurities?

"I'm glad you've decided to open up to your friends." Azriel tried to sound encouraging. "Nesta and Emerie love you so much."

"Oh. I know they do, but it wasn't them. I still don't like talking to them about the attack or my progress. I like to just be able to have some part of my life that isn't all about that night, you know what I mean?"

"Of course. So you have priestesses you can talk to?"

"Not really. I'm not that sure I fit there anymore, honestly."

"Well. Whoever it is, I'm glad you have friends who can help you through this." He was not glad, not even slightly. He was ashamed at the confusion and annoyance that they both heard in his voice.

"I probably shouldn't have called him my friend. That's not exactly a fair description of our relationship."

She said HIM. She said RELATIONSHIP.

Stay calm, but ask her.

Azriel's eyes shot to hers in an almost pleading manner. He noticed with dismay that the shadows were frozen around his body. Even the sneaky one that had wrapped around her wrist seemed to be waiting with increasing tension for her explanation.

She doesn't owe me an explanation.

Not yet. But that doesn't mean she won't give us one.

Us?

"We're assigned sponsors, kinda like a mentor, someone whose history aligns with our own and who can guide us somewhat and be a sounding board during our recovery."

Why have I never considered the types of treatments they might receive?

For the most part, you have just been thankful that they are still alive. As are most of them.

Most?

Most.

"What, did you think they just threw us in the library and let us scurry around in the dark, like terrified little chinchillas?!"

"Of course not, I guess I just never really gave much thought about what kind of therapeutic…. Wait. Terrified little whats?"

"Chinchillas. They frighten easily. Read a book, Shadowsinger."

"I read every night before bed."

"Munitions catalogs are not books, Az."

Has she been in my room?

Would it bother you if she has?

Nobody is allowed in my room.

That is an answer to a different question. Would it bother you?

No. It would be kinda hot. If she was just waiting for me, covered in nothing but my scent. Does that qualify as a kink?

Focus.

"Says the female who reads erotica."

Not on that.

"Not about chinchillas, I don't. Seriously, Az, get a grip on that mind of yours."

Is she talking to me about chinchilla porn right now?

It appears so. She may be more nervous than we predicted.

Let's rule that out as one of my new kinks, shall we?

We shall.

"Well. Velaris is a place of culture and learning, as I'm assuming you've noticed, and the library is part of Velaris. With me so far?"

"Hardly ever, but please continue."

"Thank you. A lot of work goes into mental, physical, and emotional healing. It is very private and there is no pressure. Not everybody is ready, but when they are, the help is there. The goal is always recovery. Leaving the library someday. But we don't make a big deal about it, because most never will." Something flashed across her face. It looked a lot like fear.

"Your mentor is assigned and kind of anonymous, in a way. I just mean it is a very private connection and people don't talk about it to others. Anyway, he has had a lot of good insights into things I might want to focus on during my recovery. He recommended massage therapy a while back. It is quite common and she is supposed to be the best."

"I'm sure he did." Az couldn't help the growl that accompanied his words.

"Don't do that." Gwyn was kind, but the steel in her voice sobered him. "I appreciate that you're protective. I'm the same with my friends, especially you. But, it is a sacred connection and he is an honorable male. The relationship is always platonic, it has to be."

"I didn't mean to imply…"

Actually, you did.

"Actually, I guess I did and I'm truly sorry, Gwyn." Az reached a hand toward her. "Shall we?"

Gwyn took his hand without hesitation and no flinching from Azriel. He slid an arm across her lower back just above the swell of her beautiful ass. She leaned back into the touch and wrapped her arm firmly around his neck. As he bent slightly to sweep his other arm behind her knees, she gave a little hop and a chuckle. As her body molded against his chest, it occurred to him that she seemed too nervous about today to even register their physical closeness. He was not.

***

Too soon, they landed on a quiet residential street. He knew as soon as she directed him to this neighborhood that it was a good sign, but he scanned the street out of instinct. She headed toward a beautiful brownstone walkup, but he knew enough to know that a respectable neighborhood was no guarantee of the activities that went on behind closed doors. He would always take extra care with Gwyn's safety, but he could also sense that he should limit his skepticism concerning her advisor. That would only push her away. It was obvious that she had been discussing her recovery with this male since her early days at the library. Had he advised her to join training with Nesta? Had he sanctioned their experiments? Shit. They could have even been his idea. If so, he owed this male his gratitude and perhaps a new house. No. This had Gwyn written all over it, but he would try to keep an open mind. It was just possible that this male was truly an ally.

He relaxed at the sight of the female greeting them in the tastefully appointed waiting room.

Emina. She has helped many Fae over the centuries. Formally trained as a healer, but rumor has it she has a touch of seer in her blood.

The rumors are true.

Azriel had never visited her himself, but he knew that Rhys and Mor had longstanding, therapeutic relationships with her that were very professional and rewarding. She was extremely trustworthy and Gwyn couldn't be in safer hands, possibly including his own.

"Hello, Gwyn. Could you and your friend follow me?" Azriel didn't miss her glance at his hands and the shadows that trailed through them. Everyone in Velaris could recognize the Shadowsinger, so apparently, her discretion extended to winged escorts.

"Welcome back, Gwyneth." There was the confirmation that she had tried coming here on her own. How did she get here? Why did Emina want him to know that this was not her first visit? Was Gwyn inviting him into the treatment room with her? He had so many questions.

"Please take a seat. I'm Emina." She extended her hand to Azriel. He hesitated. She glanced again at his scars. While a handshake was a welcoming formality, it was not widely used in Velaris. What it did was offer her an opportunity to inspect the severity of his scaring with her trained hands and perhaps read a bit of his history. Would she know that he had lost sensation on the back of his left hand where the burns were the most severe? He was shocked to find himself extending his hands to hers. She held them briefly but thankfully said nothing before turning her attention back to Gwyn.

"Can you talk to me about what progress you've made since last we spoke, in terms of touch? Is there anyone you've allowed to touch you?"

"I've started hugging my friends. Nesta and Emerie."

Azriel's heart broke as she counted both names on the first two fingers of her left hand. Two. She hugs two females, and she had been working up to it over time. He had seen her hug them before. Her last visit was some time ago, long before she joined training.

"That is wonderful, Gwyn." Emina looked pleasantly surprised and Azriel couldn't help but picture Gwyn in the library all those years with no Nesta, no Emerie, and unable to allow anyone to even touch her. His heart soared with pride at what they had accomplished.

"I've started combat training, with Cassian and Azriel, to learn to defend myself. And I'm mostly okay during the physical contact in training."

"You mentioned an incident in training recently. Anything else in terms of positive touch?" Emina's eyes scanned slightly left to right with memory. She read the details. Gwyn must have written to her. Since she moved on fairly quickly, he imagined that it was a very specific accounting of the flashback and attack. Gwyn looked relieved, but not surprised. She also looked determined. This female was a revelation.

"I got a foot rub." At this admission, her cheeks tinged with scarlet and she was looking everywhere but at him.

"These are amazing strides from the last time we spoke, Gwyn. Can I ask, has there been anything more intimate?"

At this, she looked directly at Azriel, a question in her eyes. Did she doubt the intimacy between them? No. He knew instinctively that she was seeking his permission to discuss it with another. She knew he was a private person and that level of respect made him want to collapse at her feet. The moment stretched on, just as the air between them grew taught and nearly crackled with electricity.

"I see. And, how long has your relationship been sexual in nature." Azriel prayed she wouldn't deny it, deny him.

"About a week." Gwyn was speaking to the therapist, but her eyes never left his.

"Really? I'm surprised. You seem very comfortable for something so new." Azriel noted that Emina would make an excellent interrogator. Her tone was both friendly and confused, a perfect combination to gently compel both honesty and further elaboration.

"We've been close friends much longer. About a week ago, we crossed a line. At least for me."

"For me, as well" Azriel whispered before she was barely done speaking. He would not leave her to doubt for even a moment.

"This is wonderful news, Gwyn. Are you comfortable asking him to stay for our massage? I think it would be helpful for this attempt."

"Third time's the charm." Gwyn snorted her deflection for just a moment and gifted Emina with one of her wry smiles. When she turned back to Azriel, her eyes were serious. "Yes. If you're comfortable, Az. I would like you to stay. I didn't realize that when I asked you to fly me. This isn't an ambush, but I've run out of here twice before and I think it would help me to know you were here."

"I'm happy to stay." The air was doing that thing again and he was getting slightly lightheaded from the intensity between them.

"There is one thing to discuss first." Emina's voice eased the tension and they finally broke eye contact to listen to her concerns. Didn't she just say he would be helpful? Was she changing her mind? Good luck trying to get him to leave now.

"We have discussed the Shadowsinger rescuing you and how much you admired him for it. This type of hero worship can make relationships fraught with peril."

"Hero worship is not a problem, trust me." Did he just snort? The concept was preposterous.

"Not anymore, anyway." Gwyn spoke quietly, but there was no disputing the confidence in her voice.

Wait. Did she worship me as her hero? Why did she stop?

She got to know you. This is better.

She could have a relapse. Maybe just a little one?

Focus.

"Az is broken like me. He has made mistakes too. We are saving each other now." Azriel nodded slightly, still gazing at her face.

Mother, bless her.

The Mother has blessed you both.

Emina nodded. The decision was made and he felt the import of it giving weight to his bones. She offered Gwyn a silk robe and directed her to step through a nearby curtain to the changing room. Azriel studied his shoes.

"Can I ask how long ago you were burned? The story is not known." Emina's tone was masterful and Azriel almost answered her out of professional courtesy alone. Almost.

"Wow, you jump right to the point don't you?" Azriel chuckled.

"I am direct. This is true. We can discuss it at another time or not at all. But I think we can help you as well. How long ago?"

Her craft was impressive. She didn't ask what happened. She didn't ask for the story. He need not mention cages, fathers, mothers, or brothers. She was just asking for a number. Numbers are harmless. He could give her a number.

"I was a child, so over 500 years."

"Was it fire?" A simple question. All he need do is move his head slightly this way or that and she would have her answer. Maybe he could convince her to teach a class to the recruits?

"Yes. Oil and fire."

"And how do you handle fire now?" How is it that not a single soul had ever asked him that question? Not once in 500 years. That earned her an answer.

"Not well."

"Can you touch others freely and affectionately with your bare hands?"

"I wouldn't say freely, no. Well, just Gwyn."

"Would you let her touch your hands today? Maybe massage some therapeutic oils into them?"

"Today is for Gwyn." This had gone too far.

"Are you suggesting that your pain has no impact on her? Does her pain impact you?"

"I just don't want to distract from her today."

"Are you saying you'd like to come back?" He had let her trap him and for the second time in his life, he felt truly seen.

"If you let me walk out of here, I won't come back. Not just for me."

"Sounds like we have this one visit to convince you that mutual healing is best for both of you." He nodded slightly in acknowledgment of what they both knew. His decision had been made the moment Gwyn hopped into his arms.

As if his thought summoned her, she emerged wrapped in a stunning silk robe that flowed around her body like water. At the sight, Azriel registered two things belatedly. He was outnumbered and outmaneuvered by these females hell-bent on healing his ruptured soul and that Gwyn was naked under all that slippery silk.

"Please lay face down Gwyn, I can help you with the robe once you're under the blanket." The silk that was going to be removed any moment with him still in the room. Azriel started picking imaginary lint off of his pant leg and turned his face away from the table.

"I've put warmers under the sheet, so let me know if it is too warm for your comfort, Gwyn."

"Thank you, Emina."

This room is getting a little too warm for my comfort.

You will live.

Promise you will mask my scent. I cannot ruin this for her.

We promise.

"Our goal is to push your comfort zone but not to force you to sit in physical discomfort. I hope that makes sense. The same is true for pressure. Memories of trauma often live in your tissue. It may feel tender, but I don't want to cause you pain, so I need you to vocalize what you're feeling. That way we can continue when something feels like a release of tension in your muscles and back off if you're feeling pain. If done correctly, massage can be incredibly restorative for people whose past violent traumas have them stuck in a fight, flight, or freeze autonomic response."

Fight, flight, or freeze?

You might learn something today.

Gwyn took a deep breath as she placed her face in the cradle at the head of the table.

"I'm going to start with your right leg, Gwyn."

Her whole body seized and her skin paled as though coated in frost. The smell turned his stomach, and all thoughts of arousal seemed nearly comical. He just hoped that he could keep down his breakfast. He noted the short stool near her head in seconds and winnowed across the room without hesitation. He sat gently on the stool as he slid his knees under the table. He took her hands, which had been resting near her shoulders. He dropped his forehead to the padded edge of the table and turned his face slightly toward her neck. He hummed his support into her ear.

"You are safe, Gwyn. Perfectly safe. Emina would never hurt you and I won't let anyone else near you. I promise."

Azriel moved his thumbs along the back of her hands in slow soothing circles. He concentrated on controlling his breathing until he felt hers naturally match his rhythm. He could smell the skin on her neck, but the image that floated before his eyes was not at all sexual. He could picture Rhys comforting and anchoring Feyre during the birth of their first child. He buried the idea down deep where it couldn't burn him alive.

Emina worked her magic on both legs and then on Gwyn's exposed back. He felt her turn slightly in his direction. As he opened his eyes, they immediately fell on the swell of her luscious behind.

Emina asked her to roll over onto her back. As she moved the sheet to cover Gwyn, Emina placed a solid flat hand on both her shoulder and her clavicle just above her breast bone. He recognized it as a grounding weight. Small lines in Gwyn's face flattened and the tendons in her neck relaxed noticeably. He caught the scent of her tears before he saw them slide from her gently closed eyes. He could smell no fear, only relief. As he sat up gazing down at her beautiful face, his thumbs smoothed each tear and trailed along her jaw before he realized that he had moved. Azriel continued whispering encouragement as he noted Emina relocate to the other side of the room. She left quietly, only to return a moment later with a tray of various ornate glass bottles.

“When you're ready, Gwyn. I want you to roll gently onto your side and wrap the sheet around you as you sit up. You've done beautifully. How do you feel?" Emina hovered near the door.

"That was amazing. Thank you."

"Azriel, if you're ready. Please feel free to select an oil from the tray. They are all imbued with healing properties, but they have different aromas. Scent can be very powerfully connected to memory. It might be best to pick something that you find particularly calming."

Emina turned her attention to Gwyn before continuing, but Azriel's eyes were trained on the bottles. Was he going to do this? Was he going to allow her to touch his hands?

Little Valkyrie has allowed your hands on her feet. You have learned the importance of that acceptance. You relished that contact without sparing a single thought for your hands. How is this different? What if you could have that again?

"Do you remember the tips I gave you before?"

"Yes, Emina. Thank you. I can take it from here." And then they were alone.

"May I take your hands, Az?"

"Yes." He spoke, but he did not offer her his hands. Gwyn waited him out when he rose to sample a couple of the miniature vials. He tried to focus on the scents and found himself scrunching up his nose each time and chuckling. There it was. The laughter ceased and his eyes drifted shut. A slight smile appeared on his lips.

"Sweet Orange. My mother always smelled of sweet orange." He handed her the bottle and wiped the sweat off of his palms. Then he turned and settled onto a padded bench against the wall and finally offered Gwyn his hands.

Her first touches were timid and her eyes darted to his face every few seconds looking for any sign of pain or discomfort. She worked her delicate finger down each ridge of knotted scars and along each of his broad fingers. His eyes drifted shut with a relaxed sigh. It was easier not to watch.

A moan escaped his lips as she started to apply deeper pressure to the tense muscles and tendons. Then his eyes shot open as she interlaced her fingers with his and pressed his fingers and wrist back with delicious pressure. His face flushed as he imagined her hands gripping his as he buried himself deep inside her. Thankfully, the shadows had kept their promise. Even he couldn't detect the scent of his arousal, though he knew it was there.

She smirked back at him in satisfaction before bending her head over her task with admirable focus and determination. She flipped his hand over and worked the mound at the base of his thumb with both of hers and his head drifted back against the wall. Did she know that this is a documented erogenous zone and that every touch was going straight to his cock? If not, she was about to find out. She scooted closer to him on the bench and moved one of her legs across his lap so she could pull his arm across her own. Her bent knee slid from beneath her robe and hovered just above his painful erection. Her shoulder dipped closer to his as she pulled his hand more into her lap and massaged her way toward his elbow. Her touch was such an intoxicating mix of confident pressure on his tired muscles, while also gently cradling his limb against her body with quiet reverence.

The world felt so far away. It was just the two of them enveloped in a cloud of light citrus scent. Azriel couldn't help the gratified hum sounding from between closed lips. Gwyn broke the spell when she spoke, though her voice was shy and apologetic.

"I guess this is my graduation of sorts. I feel like we've taken this experiment as far as we really can."

"If I'm being honest, I think I've been dreading this day for a long time."

"I'm not leaving. Just might retire my clipboard." They laughed and blushed together. He could live without the clipboard. She held tight to her robe as she crawled away from his lap. "I should dress."

Gwyn withdrew a gold chain from the pocket of the robe. His eyes glanced at the necklace. He had seen it before over the past few months. By his best calculation, she acquired it sometime after the Blood Rite. She seemed quite fond of it and he had to admit that it suited her perfectly. The gold disc had weight and the carving on the front had power. Much better than that silly glass rose, which he hoped was lost and forgotten.

"That is a beautiful necklace, Gwyn. Is that the goddess of the hunt on the medallion?"

"Good eyes. Athena, yes. Mythology from the human world."

"It suits you, Priestess."

"I'm glad you think so. You bought it."

"You picked my pocket, Berdara?"

"No. I exchanged Elaine's necklace." Azriel felt his body go still at her words.

"It's okay, Az. She told Nesta that you gave her a necklace at Winter Solstice that she had to return. I saw you that night. I know things with Elaine didn't end well." She took his hand again before continuing gently, as though speaking to a scared child, and maybe she was.

"It was a stunning necklace though. A perfect rosebud, frozen forever in glass. You did well picking it. It was perfect for Elain, but it wasn't for me." Gwyn waited until his eyes finally met hers. "I appreciate you thinking of me though. We weren't even close back then. But we are now and I can understand why it would have been too painful to return it to the shop and it would have been a shame to just toss it. So I returned it for you. We are a team. I did what you could not, and you did what I could not."

"And what's that, Gwyn?" He croaked the words, choking on disbelief and shame.

"You decided that I deserved to have something that beautiful. I never would have done it on my own." Her smile broke his heart all over again. This wasn't just about his shame. She had taken his pitiful attempt to form some sort of connection with somebody and turned it into something beautiful.

"You deserve more than that." And he would see to it that she got more than just this one beautiful thing to call her own.

"I'm glad you still think so, "cause they sell matching earrings, Shadowsinger… and this amazing cuff." She added with a wink and a quick jab to his ribs.

Emina returned with a look of triumph at the sound of their laughter. "Does this mean we can expect the two of you to return? Perhaps next week?"

"I have a mission next week. Make it two weeks?" He was shocked to hear the anticipation in his voice and realize it was sincere.

"Perfect. I have a shipment of low-temperature soy candles designed specifically for waxplay that I think might interest you both, Shadowsinger." He felt Gwyn freeze, but Azriel threw his head back and laughed heartily.

"I think I'm gonna like you, Emina." His laughter was cut short by his brother's somber tone in his head.

"Azriel, I need you at the River House. There has been a development. We may need to move up your mission. There is so much to decide."

"On my way. Just let me drop Gwyn back at the library."

"She's in town? With you? Where are you

"I can be there as soon as I return her to the library."

"Bring her. Nesta and Emerie will be here too. We have need of the Valkyries, Az. It is time."

How long had he been dreading those words? At least since the moment Gwyn cut the ribbon, but probably even before that. While unspoken, there was a moment when the training sessions expanded beyond defensive maneuvers and close combat dagger handling and into flat-out warfare with archery, quarterstaffs, and swords. "We have need of the Valkyries, Az. It is time."

You knew this was coming eventually. Little Valkyrie is truly ready.

Of course, she is, but am I ready to send her into danger?

She sends herself. Do not try to deprive her of the opportunity to serve, to be of use to those she loves. She will not thank you for it. You love her ferocity. Do not muzzle her.

I just want her to be safe.

Admirable. But will you let her create that safety fighting at your side?

I've waited my whole life for the one who would.

Well remembered. Little Valkyrie is staring at that lit candle on the wall. She looks curious. She looks hungry. Little Valkyrie is still naked under that bit of silk.

Is it too soon and too presumptuous to explain my rules for the bedroom?

Do you even know what your rules would be with her?

No fire, no chains, no lash. Should they be any different with Gwyn?

Forget should. Are they different?

I guess wax play isn't exactly fire. From what I've heard the sensations are rarely about inflicting actual physical pain. It is not like she wants to burn me. I don't have a problem with her holding a candle.

Who said the wax was for you?

The image of Gwyn's naked body flashed before his eyes. He imagined straddling the backs of her thighs as she peeked over her shoulder with an expectant nod. He could practically hear the hitch and stutter of her breath as tiny rivulets of warm wax forged a sensuous path down her spine, leaving tiny pools at the delicious curve above her naked ass wedged just below his cock.

I guess I could change one rule for her.

Just One?

Immediately, he imagined her astride him with his cock buried deep inside her. Her head was thrown back and she had a short riding crop held tightly in her fist. The sight of red welts across his naked thighs brought on a surprising amount of primal hunger and not a shred of the expectant disgust and shame.

That escalated quickly.

I got carried away.

A bit.

Was that a riding pun?

Apparently. Did it kill the mood?

Thoroughly.

Then, you're welcome.

"Rhys needs both of us at the River House. All the Valkyries will be there." Az cleared his throat delicately. Gwyn's eyes finally left the flickering candle and he noted a look of resolve wash over her beautiful face.

"Will we winnow or fly?" She was giving him the option of putting some physical space between them. He didn't have words for what they had just experienced and he prayed that she would not misunderstand his decision. Holding her in his arms right now was a level of masochism that even Azriel was not prepared to suffer.

Plus, the thought of holding her that close and then sitting in full view of Amren's prying eyes, he'd be too tempted to skip the meeting entirely and fly them both back to a perfectly empty House of Wind. He couldn't do that. Not today. He needed to know what Rhys was planning. He needed his head in the game for both of them.

"I can winnow us, as soon as you're dressed."

Azriel allowed himself one more slow glance down the length of her silk robe. He would buy her one in every color.

"Would you prefer the front lawn or directly into Rhys's office?"

"The lawn, please. A short walk would do me some good." She rasped, placing both hands on her flaming cheeks with a bemused smile.

It took Gwyn barely three minutes to change out of the robe, but it was plenty of time for Azriel's head to start spinning.

He sent Rhys two reports the night before. The first one was on Tamlin and where he was keeping Ianthe's old records, including her hoarded copies of sacred texts and manuscripts. The second report was on Eris. They had agreed that Azriel would leave for Spring the following week. Why call this meeting now? What had changed? Why invite the Valkyrie?

If he wants me to take Gwyn to Spring, I'll gladly do it. She would be an excellent help with retrieving and deciphering the documents.

Maybe you can find an inn with only one bed.

I would sleep on the floor. You're not helping. He said all the Valkyries would be there. They can't all come to Spring. It is recognizance. I need to be stealthy. He could be sending them someplace else.

Or three other places.

Rhys would never send Gwyn alone to Autumn. Not after Mor. Stunning red hair aside, she wouldn't be safe without backup. Autumn is a two-person job, and that is assuming one of them is me. Rhys is not the monster everyone thinks he is, but Beron is even worse than his awful reputation.

As if on cue, Gwyn emerged from the changing room as she finished off a thick braid that roped elegantly over one shoulder. Azriel offered her his hand wordlessly. When they landed on the lawn, his nerves overtook him once more.

"Where are you sending Gwyn?"

"Hello, Azriel."

"Where are you sending Gwyn?"

"I'm fine. Thank you. Your concern has always warmed my heart."

"You are sitting in the River House with one of the most powerful High Fae in history practically glued to your side. If she wanted you dead, you would be dead. So, I'm assuming that you're pretty fucking safe. Unless you two morons have made another bargain that I need to know about?"

"Where Gwyn goes is up to Gwyn. This is only a preliminary discussion and one that we can start having in earnest, as soon as you get your head out of your ass and get up here."

They made their way silently to the office with Azriel trailing a few steps behind and watching for any sign of discomfort in Gwyn's demeanor. She stopped to greet Nesta in the hallway just outside the office and Azriel's gaze continued over her shoulder and through the open door. Elain was putting the finishing touches on what appeared to be a full tea service. He smiled as she set a plate of Gwyn's favorite raspberry jam thumbprint cookies on the table. Elain caught his gaze and shrugged nearly disgusted with her own meager overture. She had nearly disappeared out a side door before Gwyn squealed at the sight of the tray.

"These are my absolute favorite!" Gwyn offered a grateful nod to a retreating Elain and the soft smile she received seemed genuine enough. A truce of sorts.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Rhys called the meeting to order without a trace of the humor from a few moments ago.

"We are in search of a series of manuscripts. The less I say here perhaps the better. I can say that they contain a prophecy, or more accurately, bits and pieces of various versions of probably fairly unreliable prophecy." Feyre shot him an exasperated glare. "Of course, our very survival depends on finding it and decoding it to figure out what it means, if anything, plus figuring out who else has seen it, what they think it means, and what they plan to do about it."

"So. Assignments, Rhys continued. "Azriel is already set to leave for Spring next week. We've been working directly with Clotho, and there is reason to believe that Ianthe had her own copy. Tamlin has moved many of her things from the temple into his bedraggled mansion. Azriel will retrieve that copy and hopefully get out undetected. If not, he has my permission to just kill Tamlin in whatever gruesome way seems best."

Gwyn stiffened and Feyre escalated her scolding to include a light slap on the arm. Something about their candor unnerved Azriel. He had never taken a life lightly, not even one so worthless as Tamlin's. His High Lady must have felt his discomfort because her eyes found his. Azriel was not shocked to see the apology offered in her look or the gratitude that welled up inside him. He needed to work on his shields.

"Clotho believes that an older copy might still exist. For that, we will need to travel to the Day Court. While most of the libraries were sacked during the war, there is always safety in numbers. At least for books, apparently."

It is still hard for Rhys to speak her name.

It is not a name worth speaking.

Now, the apology was in Azriel's eyes and he retreated to his corner for a very public sulking. He would let this meeting play out on its own, watching carefully as the appropriate levers for persuasion showed themselves.

"Clotho has found a record from one of the smaller and more obscure temples in the Day Court that may house the oldest copy of this damn prophecy on record. Now, we don't want to run afoul of Helion. Not yet, and hopefully not ever. So, Feyre and I thought to send a seemingly non-threatening and thoroughly disarming emissary within her official capacity as a priestess. Specifically, a diplomatic mission to offer her services as a scribe. Clotho will make it all very legitimate. In reality, you will locate the manuscript and make just one copy, which you will smuggle home to us."

"You are planning to send her alone."

"Are you not up for a little tutoring in spy-craft?"

"Fuck off, Rhys. You're sending her to Helion. Can you even start to imagine the depraved shit that he will want to do to her when he sees her?"

"I'm not sure that it would be appropriate for me to spend any significant amount of time imaging that, plus you seem to have a firm enough grip on that all by yourself."

"This is not funny, Rhys."

"Agreed. Work on your shields, Az."

"Fuck."

"Emerie and Cassian will start working with some additional recruits. We are finally getting some Illyrian females, and I want the two of you to oversee it firsthand." The two shared a professional nod, but Azriel saw Emerie sit just a little higher in her chair. Mor was positively beaming.

"What about me?" Nesta's look was frosty or some approximation of her standard glare.

She is not actually suspicious at all. This is a front. Why?

Lady Death is growing to respect the High Lord. She likes this plan very much. She will support Little Valkyrie when she inevitably accepts.

"We need you to take over Gwyn's duties in the library. Don't look at me like that. Things are more serious than you realize. Something isn't right with Merrill."

"No shit."

"Clotho and I are in agreement that Merrill could use a less accommodating acolyte for a few weeks and a little more careful watching. I need to know what she is studying when she isn't inventing reasons to be angry at Gwyn." Nesta smiled like a hungry cat and Azriel immediately dispatched a shadow to the library. He never liked Merrill, but he hadn't found her behavior particularly suspicious. If he could help Nesta in any way and get that female away from Gwyn, he would.

His allies were few. Amren was watching Gwyn with a discomforting look, as everyone else argued about minutia. Mor and Cassian seemed content enough, though the latter was mumbling about increasing Gwyn's training before she was allowed to leave and issuing her a quarterstaff. How could he be his brother for centuries and have no idea what it meant to spy in another court? Mor would be busy with her family, which wasn't a happy assignment, but also wasn't new. Nesta and Emerie looked downright giddy when it came to their assignments but concerned for Gwyn's comfort level at leaving the library and venturing out on her own. This was an ambitious operation with a lot of moving pieces, but this was not the moment to suggest that they change it.

"You'll need to give them ranks before you deploy them."

"I'm not deploying anyone just yet, but they will have them eventually. Assuming this works. Does this mean you agree, Az?"

"It does not."

They were still arguing about the details an hour later when he noticed Gwyn rubbing her temples.

"Has anyone seen Az? You really should have invited him to this meeting, Rhys. I'm fairly certain he would have concerns about this ambitious mission of yours." The silence was immediate, although Azriel could tell that they were less uncomfortable and more excited about what was now happening.

"Gwyn." Azriel nearly growled her name from his selected corner.

"Oh! there you are, Spymaster. I didn't notice you there, silently stewing." Rhys and Cassian were smirking. Amren was looking around for popcorn.

"I have concerns." Azriel admitted carefully.

"No shit. I think I just said that." Rhys had the nerve to snort.

"I thought we would talk about my concerns in private, Gwyn."

"I know that too. You'd sit there letting us hash out a plan and then fly me back in broody silence. I'd have to endure hours of sparing before you'd say a word and while this method has been great for my shapely rear, I don't have the patience today, Az."

She's talking about her ass right now. She's going to be the death of me.

Focus.

"You're teasing me. In front of our High Lord."

"The word you're looking for is goading. I am goading you. And his name is Rhys and we both want to know what you think about this plan. Everyone has weighed in and I know you've been listening. Cassian is a great general, but he doesn't know me as you do. Shit, I don't know me as you do. So I'm asking you to join this damn conversation and help us make this work so I don't get myself killed."

Did Gwyn just wink at Amren?

Apparently.

"I'm going with her." Azriel was speaking to Rhys, but his eyes were on Gwyn's. She needed to understand that this was his call. If he didn't agree, Rhys would ultimately respect his decision.

"I need you elsewhere. You have your mission." Rhys was going to make him earn this and Azriel couldn't help but wonder for whom they were performing.

"I know where you need me and when. Gwyn and I can do both missions."

"You think she's ready for all that entails?" Rhys feigned skepticism and Gwyn bristled on cue.

"Of course, she is. She's a Valkyrie. My concerns are not about her being ready, just about her skill set and the task you're asking her to perform. We are a good team. We can do it."

"What skills are you most interested in here, Az?"

"Don't talk about Gwyn like that. Not ever, and definitely not to me."

"Noted. Go on."

"She is careful and organized. She sees connections and understands motivations faster than I do. Don't send her in an official capacity. Don't leave a record. I trust Helion, but the less anyone knows about this the better. Plus, two sets of eyes on the book are best, particularly if we cannot steal it. At least for now."

"You've never really worked together, Az. I don't have to tell you that this won't be like training." Gwyn bristled further and was glaring at Rhys. Why was this making her more upset?

"We HAVE worked together beyond training. We are a team. Our minds and skills complement each other very well. You won't be disappointed."

"Fair enough. You leave tomorrow. Pack light."

Everyone rose, but Azriel knew his brother had more to say. "Out with it." Azriel offered once the others were a safe distance into the hallway.

"Last time I wasn't able to give you the freedom and privacy that you deserve. Not with so much at stake. Not as your High Lord. With Mor, maybe I gave you too much privacy and for too long.

Whatever this partnership truly is, I love you and I adore her. Take your time. Enjoy it and I'm here for whatever either of you needs."

Sly Brother loves you dearly. He fights for your happiness and your choice. He always has and he always will.

"And don't think for a moment that you don't deserve her, brother."

The intensity and sincerity in his brother's eyes caused his chest to tighten and then swell. Azriel found that he had very little air as he tried to give voice to the words that came so easily to his mind. They came out in an emotional rasp that surprised both brothers.

"Nobody deserves her, Rhys. But don't think I'm going to let that stop me from giving her the world." Rhys nodded once with pride in his eyes.

Azriel left his brother's office with a new sense of purpose and enthusiasm for everything that was to come. Gwyn had been so confident and willing to leave not only the library and Velaris but the whole of the Night Court. And she was willing to leave with him.

His enthusiasm lasted almost until dinner.

As he knocked lightly on Gwyn's door a few hours later, it swung gently inward. Gwyn was packing for the mission. She had several weapons laid out on the bed. Some were excellent choices and he found himself wondering if she would be open to his advice. Then an idea struck him that soured his stomach.

For the first time, Gwyn would truly be under his direct authority and they were going into the field. He was going to have to pull rank on Gwyn and he would have to do so without any trace of their usual banter and sexual innuendo. Their lives may depend on her following his every instruction precisely and without question. He was confident that they would survive, but would their friendship or whatever this was becoming between them?

Just talk to her. She will understand. Don't make her guess your feelings or motivations. Just talk to her now. Be clear.

"Take the two small daggers. Wear one on each thigh beneath your robes. If you change out of them, I can show you how to discreetly cut two slits hidden within the folds of your robes for access. We will practice drawing your weapons from them after dinner. We will not leave until I'm confident that you've mastered it."

Gwyn's smirk was subtle, but not lost on Azriel.

"Yes, sir. Anything else I should pack, Spymaster?"

"We cannot winnow directly there. Helion is too crafty. We will travel some of the way through the mountains. Pack only what you can carry and make sure you have layers for warmth and to use as a bedroll."

"Oh. Ok. That makes sense." The flirtation of her earlier comment was gone completely.

Little Valkyrie is feeling rejected. She is uncomfortable and confused.

"For the next few weeks, I will be your commander." He was curious if she was aware that her body was instinctively standing at military ease in response to his word and authoritative tone. "I know that I've helped you train before in our private time, though Cassian has always been your instructor. This isn't two friends helping each other and this isn't training, Gwyn. I will need to make decisions quickly and decisively, and I will need to trust that they will be followed. What I can promise you is that to the extent possible, this will be a collaborative process."

"How so?"

"I suggested this partnership because I need your skills and I'm not going to ignore them in the field. You're extremely observant and you understand people, their reactions, and motivations more quickly and more clearly than I ever have. We will need that, particularly in the Day Court. You're going to need to ingratiate yourself with the other priestesses to figure out where the manuscript is being kept, assuming it is even there. Then you will need to secure a private location to study it. I will need to remain hidden in the shadows. This first part is the least dangerous, but the most nuanced and the most open to collaboration."

"That makes sense actually. Thank you."

"Spring will be more of a smash-and-grab and highly dangerous. We can discuss the plan of attack on the way and continue to work on combat training when we have time along the journey. But, once we are in Spring, you will follow my every command."

"I see. So, no pet names?"

"No pet names."

"No massage oils?"

"No life-changing massages. Well, at least until we get back."

"And no wax play…"

"Gwyn!" Azriel gave her a wicked grin. "We are now late for dinner, you evil little minx."

"I think that counts as a pet name. House, please make a note, one demerit for our giant winged pervert."

"Would that also be a pet name, Gwyneth? House, do you agree that we are now even?"

The lights flickered in a close approximation of an amused chuckle as the two made their way upstairs for dinner.

"You answer to me and you answer to Azriel."

Cassian was chanting this pitiful mantra as Azriel and Gwyn slowly found their seats at the dinner table. The pair had settled into a companionable silence as they made their way slowly through the House of Wind to dinner. There was an air of intimacy between them, a keen awareness of the space and warmth between their bodies and each breath the other took beside them. Azriel's senses were all confused. He felt her gaze brush gently against his skin and tasted the sweetness of her scent on his tongue. Her company was dangerously intoxicating.

"You answer to me and you answer to Azriel."

"What is this now?" Azriel tried to sound engaged and amused as he shook off the last of the languid sensuality of their walk.

"Apparently, there is a chain of command that needs to be enforced." Nesta deadpanned with obvious annoyance.

"This goes for all three of you!" Cassian turned toward Gwyn as she reached for her delicate wine glass and sipped with brows raised. "You answer to me and you answer to Azriel."

"Someone is taking all of this well, I see." Gwyn directed her comment to Nesta across the table and was trying hard not to laugh out loud.

Strong Brother is very proud of his mate. He shows it by antagonizing her into retaliatory domination.

Foreplay.

Clearly.

"Rhys has not established ranks, Cass." At Nesta's smug look, Azriel continued. "But, he will eventually, and it will need to be strictly followed in the field." The table was quiet for exactly three beats before Cassian continued.

"You answer to me and…"

"Gwyneth?" Azriel interrupted.

"Yes, sir?" Her voice was all warm summer honey and every eye across the table snapped with amusement at Azriel's rapidly blushing face.

"I never said you had to call me sir."

"My mistake, Commander. Do you have a command for me then?"

Gwyn took a small bite of flaky white fish from her fork and watched him expectantly. Now it was Cassian's turn to stifle his grin behind his napkin. The House chose that moment to replace his wine pairing with a steaming cup of licorice spice tea and Nesta barked a laugh.

"For now, Gwyn, if you'd be so kind as to answer a question for me." Azriel continued at her nod.

"Would you follow Cassian's orders?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Am I fighting or spying?"

"Good girl." It was Gwyn's turn to blush and Azriel made a very satisfied mental note of her clear affection for the endearment. "Is there anyone else you would follow into battle?"

"I would follow her into the cauldron or the deep blue sea." Gwyn's eyes never left Nesta's and her tone was burnished steel.

"I thought so. And what about you, Nesta? Are you ready to lead your sisters into battle? Would you march them to their death for your court?" Her mouth opened but then closed again without a sound. Nesta had no words.

"There is no chain of command for the Valkyries, for now." Azriel stared knowingly, but not harshly, at Nesta's somber face. "So, unless you're in the field with one of us, you may do as you please. However, if you accept a mission, you accept that it will have a leader and you will have assigned roles and tasks. You will follow them."

"And that's when you answer to me and you answer to Azriel." Every eye rolled.

"Nesta and Gwyn, we begin tonight. You will meet me in the training ring after dinner. Bring

clothes. Nesta, bring whatever you normally wear when working in the library. Gwyn, you will need to bring both sets of your robes."

"How do you know I have two sets of robes?"

"I am aware of three sets of robes, but that chocolate ganache never came out of the right sleeve of your newest set and you had to retire it early. Bring the other two to the training ring an hour after you've finished your meal." Both females nodded curtly in agreement.

"I will have new daggers for each of you. They are lighter and better designed for concealment beneath clothing, but they are sharper. You'll need to make adjustments to your clothes and practice handling them before Gwyn and I leave tomorrow. We will work into the night." Another set of nods.

"But, not all night." Azriel looked knowingly at Gwyn. "You will need to get a good night of sleep. At dawn, I will fly us from the training into a secluded spot on the far side of the mountains. We will have at least two full days of hiking, which means sleeping in our bed rolls on the ground."

The House piled three additional buttered rolls onto Gwyn's already full plate.

"Have some faith, will you? I do promise to feed her." Azriel shouted at the ceiling before turning to Gwyn. "We can hunt and cook on an open fire for most of the way. I will also pack plenty of Valerian supplements that will sustain us and don't require additional cooking."

"You're going to make Gwynie eat those gross crackers?"

"They are not crackers, Cass. They are dense in nutrients and will get us through the woods if there is no game to be found."

"She'll mutiny before you're down the mountain if you make her eat those damn crackers."

Little Valkyrie enjoys sesame and dried fruit. She will not mutiny.

I know.

Azriel decided to turn his attention to Nesta. "It may not seem like it right now, but your instinct is going to be to find Cassian if you sense danger. Fight that instinct." Nesta scoffed openly.

"He is right." It was the first time Gwyn had spoken since he started discussing the mission and all traces of her teasing were gone.

"Tell me why I am right?"

"Cassian cannot enter the library freely. There are various wards for many portions of the library, particularly where Nesta would be most vulnerable. Clotho needs to give permission herself for a male other than Rhys to enter." A question flitted across her face and was gone.

Little Valkyrie has sensed your presence in the library. She knows when you seek sanctuary. She will not mention it if you do not.

The room grew quiet with the weight of what was being asked of the Valkyries.

"Nesta, you will practice reaching with your mind for Feyre. She will be here tomorrow to train with you. Don't look at me like that. If she knows to listen and she keeps her mind open to you, she can be there faster than anyone and there's no part of the library forbidden to her. Your second option is to ask Rhys to send Mor."

The House delivered four stunning daggers to the table and lovely plain journals. Azriel clarified that both females would, at various points, be doing surveillance.

"Shouldn't they be smaller then?"

"Have you ever noticed a person scribbling furiously on a tiny notebook they carry on their person and not thought them to be a spy?"

"These are plain journals for you to keep tucked with your belongings. Make a mental note of any changes in behavior or routine that you observe. If you must write it casually on a scrap of paper you can later discard. At night, sit and record your thoughts for the day."

"If cornered, tell the truth when you can. It is the easiest thing to remember. Your name is Gwyneth. You work for Clotho in the library, and you've been sent to the Day Court to copy old manuscripts. All of these things are true and verifiable. They are also completely innocuous."

"Gwynie, I have a separate mission for you of the utmost importance to me personally and to your High Lord."

Cassian leaned forward with elbows on the table and his voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone. "Helion himself has been trying to get our little Azriel here into bed for centuries. Each attempt becomes more elaborate and more creative. You will be my eyes and ears on the ground. It has zero chance of working, obviously, but I need all of the stunning and glorious details."

"Should I write those things down at night in my little book too?" Azriel's firm denial was drowned out by Nesta and Cassian's fervent agreement.

"Consider it done, General."

***

Gwyn's robes turned out to be the easiest of the two when it came to alterations.

"They have pockets?!" Nesta gaped.

"Pockets!"

"Why don't my dresses have pockets?" Nesta was grabbing at Gwyn's clothes and sliding her hands greedily into the folds of her robes as she spoke. "You could fit a whole book in there. Not a massive one, but maybe one of those thinner ones. Like that spicy pirate one where she masquerades as a male to get on board and he rails her from …"

"I have!" Gwyn blurted nervously, presumably to stop Nesta from describing the scene any further, given the shy and furtive glance she dared at Azriel. Nesta smirked as Gwyn continued. "And some of those little chocolate truffle balls or a lemon drop, or two. You know, for after I sing at services."

"Are you two finished?"

"For now." Nesta continued her playful fuming. "But, I'm getting pockets."

"They are perfect. Gwyn, you can just cut them out." Both females gasped in horror at the mere suggestion and then continued to gape at him in disgust.

"She has massive, secret pockets in her priestess robes and you're telling her to just cut them out."

"Actually, you're right. On second thought, just cut a slit along the forward seam where the pocket attaches to the inside of your robe. Reinforce the edge with a quick whip stitch, so it won't fray. You can practice reaching forward for your incredibly sharp Illyrian blade or back for a lolly or three. See? I'm capable of compromise."

"Smartass." The females responded in unison and their camaraderie warmed his heart, even if they were currently unified against him.

Azriel was sharpening the blades when Gwyn returned wearing her augmented robes. Nesta was still in the corner of the training ring working on hers, although Azriel suspected that she would eventually order a few dresses discreetly made to these new specifications, including pockets. She had more time than Gwyn to prepare for these new roles.

"Okay. As we've done before. I'm going to step behind you and place my left arm around your bicep and across your chest. I will hold you firmly to my chest with one arm and hold a weapon with my other. We will start easy with your dominant side."

"What was that Nesta? Did you say something?"

"Nothing, just over here sewing. Don't mind me."

Lady Death mumbled "I think you'll find she has more than one dominant side." She is very amused.

"Okay. Where were we?"

"You're attacking me and I'm going to try to kill you."

"No, Gwyneth. We are training and you will attempt to retrieve your blade without cutting yourself and bleeding out."

Azriel planted his feet further behind her body than he would have in a real attack. He needed to keep a polite distance between their lower bodies as they practiced. He let her fumble it three times on her own. But when she sliced the tip of her finger, he had to intervene.

"May I?" Gwyn just nodded, clearly too frustrated for words.

Azriel shifted his body to their right to align his dagger arm directly along the back of her own. "Can you feel the position of my arm?"

"Yes." Gwyn took a shallow breath and shifted to accommodate the change in stance. His thigh settled firmly against her ass and grounded her to him.

"Bend your right knee slightly and shift your weight forward onto it. Like this." Azriel guided her body forward with his own.

"I'm going to reach for the dagger with my right hand now. The movement is actually down into the opening in the robe, not forward for the dagger. Not yet. Once inside, slide your palm, not your fingers, along your thigh until you feel the pommel settle behind the base of your thumb." Azriel froze and nearly stopped breathing.

"Gwyneth?" His voice was a whimper full of accusation.

"Yes, Commander?" Innocent mischief laced her tone.

"Why aren't you wearing anything under your robes?"

"I am! I have underwear AND stockings. They come just above the knee. That is what I always wear. The robes are quite thick, I'll have you know."

"I thought you had on leggings or leathers or just something MORE under there."

"Do you often wear clothes under your clothes, Shadowsinger?"

"You could have warned me."

"Warned you? Did my leg bite you?" She started to laugh, but quickly schooled her face. "I'm sorry if I startled you. I guess you don't know everything about my clothes after all."

"Well, I can't see through them if that's what you thought." Azriel barked and Gwyn smirked at his lack of composure.

Lady Death mumbled "Not from lack of trying." She is even more amused.

Azriel's eyes never left Gwyn as he started to chastise her with one of his trademark stern glances. But, he smirked at himself as Nesta sauntered up to them.

"If you're done fondling Gwyn's dagger, I need to train. These access panels will have to do for tonight. You leave in the morning."

"Fine. Yes. Gwyn, keep working on what I just showed you. I know you'll have it down soon and then I want the two of you to grapple."

"Do you now?" Nesta was still amused.

"It is not only important to learn to pull the weapon, but you need to fight with it on your thigh and you need to keep it out of the hands of your opponent."

"I need some water before we start." Gwyn left for the water station and Nesta leveled him with a less-than-amused glare for the first time tonight.

"Will you be joining us or do you just plan to watch tonight?"

"You are spunkier than usual, Nesta."

"Someone needs to keep you on your toes, Az. We're not the only ones learning new tricks for this mission, now are we? Gwyn and I are both relying on you to keep your head in the game and bring her home. So, tell me. Where do you want me to grab her exactly?"

Lady Death is quite observant. She is also correct.

"Nesta, you've grappled with Gwyn plenty before. This will be much the same."

Perhaps I have not thought this all the way through.

Perhaps you're thinking too much about it.

Nesta's eyes scanned the length of his body before commenting. "In the middle of the day and with a crowd, yes. But, is it me, or don't these little private midnight lessons seem just a touch more intimate and perhaps suggestive."

"YOU seem just a touch more intimate and perhaps suggestive." Azriel growled menacingly under his breath to Nesta, as Gwyn made her way back to the pair and settled into an easy stance awaiting further instruction. Nesta shrugged.

Azriel paced quietly before the two females before continuing. "Tonight, your focus will be on the additional weight the dagger adds against your leg as you flow through the movements, which at this point have become second nature to you both. We will work up to adding twin daggers to each thigh and attempting to draw a concealed blade while actively engaged with an opponent. For tonight, only draw the blade when you have space to do so safely."

If this gets out of hand, I am relying on you to hide my scent. I don't want to make them uncomfortable. That is a standing request for the entirety of this mission with Gwyn.

Of course. It won't work on Lady Death though. If you become aroused by the sight of them, she will know. Stand down wind. Pray.

Azriel groaned inwardly but breathed a quick prayer as the two lithe females crouched into their natural fighting stances and began circling. "I am the rock against which the surf crashes. I am the rock…"

The pair worked diligently through each lesson for well over an hour. Azriel's focus thankfully remained firmly on training and not on the sweat beading down into the hollow of Gwyn's delicate throat. Both females had grown on him. Each precious to him in their own right. He knew that their safety was what would occupy his entire heart and mind during the lesson.

Entirely?

Predominantly.

The first half of training was mostly devoted to adjusting to the flowing drape of the additional fabric of their skirts. They had both forgotten why they had switched to the skin-tight leathers in the first place. Azriel sent a second prayer to the Mother for those obscuring garments. He didn't need to watch the curves of their bodies as they rolled around on the training ring floor bathed in moonlight.

Predominantly?

Mostly.

When Cassian found him an hour later, Nesta was still practicing on her own as Azriel sharpened more weapons and barked corrections from across the ring.

"Where is Gwynie?" His brother's notorious swagger was not diminished in the slightest as he strolled toward the pair in only a pair of loose sleeping pants and a lopsided grin.

"She was ordered to her room a bit ago to pack and then sleep." Nesta glanced over her shoulder in Azriel's direction with a smirk that implied mischief. "Azriel made us roll around on the ground together while he watched."

"Bet that was a tough sell, huh, Nes? Did you even hesitate before taking our sweet Gwynie to the ground? I bet you pinned her between those muscular thighs of yours. Or maybe she pinned you?"

Azriel cleared his throat as Cassian's chest heaved with a long luxuriating inhale. His brother's smirk indicated that he too had detected the slight shift in Nesta's scent and was ready to pounce. Instead, he only chuckled quietly before turning a somber face to Azriel.

"Never doubt your worth or our love. You see your way home to us, brother."

"Do you ever get tired of saying that?"

"Nope. Sums it up nicely, I think, and it has brought you home in one piece for over five centuries. Why would I stop now?"

"Fair enough." The two clasped hands to forearms with bowed heads in a solemn vow that brought Nesta a quiet step closer. All distractions were momentarily forgotten.

"Watch over her." She leveled her eyes at Azriel, but there was no accusation in them.

"Watch over yourself. Your assignment is dangerous too, Nesta."

"I wrangled that kelpie. I'm pretty sure I can handle babysitting Merrill for a few weeks."

"It could be longer than that and don't underestimate her."

"I don't underestimate anyone, Az. You know that. The worst thing that can happen is I get myself killed. There are two of you leaving Velaris tomorrow. And something tells me that if either one comes back alone, it will be as only half of themselves."

Azriel felt his throat restrict at her implication. He couldn't even fathom continuing without Gwyn, so he deflected.

"Are you suggesting that my brother here can somehow live without you? Cause I'd have to disagree with you there." Azriel threw an arm up to grab Cassian in a quick and playful headlock.

"Cassian and I have already offered every bit of ourselves on the battlefield to keep the other one safe. Nothing has changed since then, except that we have had some time. Gwyn is just starting to live."

"And she will come home and continue to live, no matter what happens to me."

"Let's just assume for argument's sake that you're dead wrong, Azriel." He looked toward Cassian for support and found the same determination in his brother's eyes.

"Why am I the one getting a pep-talk? This is Gwyn's first mission, not mine. Shouldn't you be talking to her?"

The pair had silently decided it was Cassian's turn to lecture his brother. They were a good team.

"The house has filled her belly. She'll get some sleep. She trusts you enough to follow your orders…"

"So, then what are you worried about?"

"Not worried. We trust you too, Az. But taking Gwyn into the field is new, and it's been a long time since you've had to do anything new."

"I guess that's fair."

"I trust you're making her pack her own pack?" Cassian stroked his chin mockingly.

"Of course. Everything must be where she can instinctively reach for it in an emergency."

"Twice?"

"Three times. She's also familiarizing herself with my pack."

"Sounds like that tickles?" Nesta snorted at her mate's snark.

"Be serious, Cass. She's packing and unpacking our packs so that she understands why we carry what we carry and where to find everything in case something happens to me. She will also know what to pilfer from my pack so she can get home without me."

"Aren't you worried she's going to reorganize your stuff? You won't like that." Cassian turned conspiratorially toward Nesta. "Az doesn't like people to touch his stuff."

"He'll like it if it is Gwyn. Although, she's probably alphabetizing it as we speak." Nesta's suggestive smirk turned contemplative.

"I left strict instructions." They both laughed at the apparent naïveté. Azriel smiled knowingly before continuing.

"And we created a system for her to note down suggestions and possible improvements for consideration before our next mission into the field together."

"Impressive." Nesta beamed up at him and Cassian whistled. Azriel was fairly smug about his thoughtfulness.

"Actually, it seems you're going to be just fine."

Was that their version of a test?

At least you passed.

***

"And what is this pile?"

"I guess I had just assumed that in all your many centuries, you'd be able to identify female panties by now, Azriel."

"I can, thank you. I've just never needed to pack them for a mission before."

"So, I'd be your first then?" She smiled gently.

"Gwyneth."

"Commander."

"Focus."

"Yes, sir."

"Why are there so many pairs though?"

"You said we could be gone for weeks."

"They can be washed, Gwyn."

"You don't say, Az."

Azriel decided to ignore the playful way she kept matching his tone and what it was doing to his heart. He reached across her bed to the pile of silks. Gwyn had organized their supplies into neat little piles circling each pack, careful to keep to his strict organizational system. He let two or three pairs fall gently through his fingers. Gwyn's face reddened before she spoke in a decent attempt at a purely professional tone.

"How many are you bringing? You forgot to pack them. I made a note."

"I don't generally… Never mind. Two or three pairs should suffice, Gwyn."

"If I was a male, yes. But I'm built differently. More membranous tissue and more prone to infection." This time her tone was perfectly clinical and something about it made Azriel want to push her.

"Crotch rot."

Gwyn's face scrunched disgustedly at his crass outburst, which was the point, but he continued quickly enough. "In the barracks, we just called it crotch rot. Males can get that too. Or so I'm told."

"Well. I'm not calling it that and I'm not getting it just because you bullied me into packing an unnecessarily stingy amount of panties."

"Fair enough. Berdara. They are tiny and weigh next to nothing so pack as much as you'd like." It was Azriel's turn to redden as he looked at the small pile of delicate underthings and tried not to imagine Gwyn wearing them. Or, more relevant, changing into them in front of him on the mission.

"I should warn you, Gwyn, the road doesn't afford much privacy. You need to be prepared for that."

"Oh, do I? Speaking of prepared. I have another note. You didn't pack sleeping garments."

"We are going into the field, not on vacation."

Something in Gwyn's face shifted and Azriel knew he had made a mistake.

What is happening now?

You are about to find out.

"Let me ask you a question, Commander."

Fuck.

Appropriate.

"If you were packing for an assignment with Nesta or with Feyre, would you pack sleeping garments and underwear? Or be this cavalier about telling her to prepare to abandon her expectation of privacy and embrace some level of shared nudity."

"I never said shared nudity. And, anyway, that would be different."

Idiot.

"How so? Wait, let me guess. Nesta is your brother's mate and Feyre is also our High Lady and thus due a certain amount of formal respect."

"Yes?" Azriel's voice was an apologetic whisper.

Fuck

Precisely.

"I'm not angry, but I am making an important point here. I'm not judging you for your assumptions, but I am challenging them and I'm expecting you to do the same. And to respect my privacy on this mission, even if I'm not attached to a male. At least, not yet."

Not yet? Did she say "Not yet"? What the fuck does that mean?

"I thought this was underpants at first, but it is just a strip of black silk. I guess you could wrap it…" Azriel smirked thankfully as Gwyn glanced awkwardly at his crotch and stretched out the length of fabric in her hands. At least she was willing to joke with him despite his idiotic preconceptions. How hadn't he noticed his own outdated theories?

"Strips of sterile silk can be used as a tourniquet, sling, bandage, or a blindfold." Gwyn's eyes flashed to his at the mention of a blindfold. "Can you think of anything else, besides a loin cloth, of course?"

"I guess I could strangle someone." Azriel's throat dried out. Gwyn's eyes went a little unfocused as she wrapped the ends around each palm. "Or tie someone's hands." She swallowed audibly and glanced down as he flexed the muscles in his hands and flexed his wrists. "Or tie up my hair." She finished quickly with a dismissive shrug.

"Um, those are good instincts, Berdara."

Holy shit. Would she tie my hands? Does she want to tie my hands?

Keep it professional, Commander.

Don't you start too.

Is that a command?

"No ponytails in the field though. But you can weave it into your hair. Two braids, not one. Less leverage for an attacker to grab. The black will offer some camouflage. Would you like me to show you?"

"You want to braid my hair?"

"We won't need camouflage in Day, but it could be useful in Spring. Your hair color will be unique there." Azriel hurried forward, hopeful she'd forget his offer.

"I can manage the braid myself, but thank you."

At her words, Azriel dropped the hand he hadn't realized he'd extended. He tightened it into a fist to shock some feeling back into it and to erase the memory of burying his fist in her hair. Both the silky feel in his rough hands and her carnal response.

"What do you mean unique?"

"Spring is not Autumn, Gwyn."

"Truly?"

"You've been spending too much time with Nesta. You don't see your shade of auburn in Spring. Mahogany brown with hints of copper. Perhaps a budding plum tree or certain types of dogwood."

"It isn't purple and it isn't that red."

"It's noticeable."

"In the woods, you mean?"

"Anywhere."

Gwyn smiled and dropped the blindfold back onto the bed. Thankfully, she seemed done testing him for the night.

"Ok. I will repack the packs, get some sleep, and meet you in the ring at dawn. Correct?"

"Once I add a few garments to my pile, yes." Gwyn smiled and accepted the win. "I hope you know that I respect you, same as Feyre, and would never be cavalier with a female companion's privacy or comfort."

"I know that."

"So you were just busting my balls."

"No. Words matter. A good friend once told me that."

They stood smiling at each other for a long moment before she continued. "I know that the road will challenge me. I won't be sleeping in my bunk or in the House or anywhere I have ever been before. I won't have a weighted dresser to push in front of a locked door. Trust me when I tell you that glimpsing your dangly bits is the least of my worries tonight."

"My what?!"

"In the field, you are my dresser, Az. You are my locked door. I just wanted to make sure you still saw me for me. I'm not any spy you've ever worked with before. This won't be like anything either of us has ever done before."

"I see you, Gwyn. I promise I won't forget and I'll never make you doubt again."

She smiled sweetly and commenced repacking with a whisper. "Goodnight, Commander."

"Sleep tight, Gwyn."

"I will try."

"We both will."

"You are quiet."

"Are you just picking up on that now, Berdara? That is worrisome. Most people get that right away."

The glance she shot over her shoulder was less than amused. As she turned her attention back to the steep path ahead, he could feel the smile dawning across her beautiful face.

Encouraged, he continued dryly. "Seriously, practically as soon as they meet me."

"I think you know that I was just being polite. I can be more direct since you asked so sweetly. What is it that you're thinking about so loudly back there?"

Gwyn had taken the lead down the trail as soon as they landed on the far side of the mountains separating Night from Day. The pair had made steady progress in relative silence for at least an hour. Silence relative to Gwyn's normal chatter. Azriel was learning that she was usually very subdued in the early mornings and it took her at least a few hours to ramp up her conversational pace. It was adorable to watch her come alive as the day unfolded. Then a bit heartbreaking to watch her struggle to come back down as the rest of the world prepared for sleep.

Today, she spared a handful of words pointing out a patch of scraggly herbs clinging to the wide expanse of grey rock. True to form, Gwyn had researched these mountains and found that while few plants grew this high, these would help her adjust to the thin air found at this altitude. She had tucked a bundle into the front of her robes, claiming the scent would waft up as she hiked. Illyrians, like most winged creatures, had natural defense mechanisms for altitude sickness. She had read about that too and refused to share her bosom blossoms, which had quickly become his secret name for the tiny flowering herb.

Was she really curious about his thoughts? People rarely asked after his long silences. Should he tell her about the waxplay candles Emina made sure were waiting in his room last night or the accompanying vial of scented oil that he tucked into his pack at the last minute? No. He wouldn't tell her about that here. That was for after. For now, it was just a reminder of how he had drifted to sleep last night wrapped in the smell of sea salt and bright citrus. How he had dreamt he was a dolphin rolling playfully through a threatless ocean until dawn.

Would he tell her how his hand still tingled from the touch of her skin as they flew just high enough to winnow to the far side of these mountains? Would he describe the colors still lingering just behind his eyes from the way the rising sun burst daylight onto her copper locks or cast rainbows through the dew drops clinging to each strand? Dew that he wanted to slide over his fingers and taste on the tip of his tongue.

"Just cataloging things we should discuss regarding the mission, once the terrain levels out and we don't have to focus so closely on our footing. Helion is complicated. You should understand his court, although if we do our job right, you won't encounter him."

Hopefully ever.

He would like her. A lot. He won't thank you for keeping her from him.

I don't care.

A flicker of disappointment crossed her face at his staunch professionalism, but it was quickly replaced with alarm as her foot slipped slightly on the scree. Her thighs were probably burning from the grueling downhill path.

"Let's take a break." He offered, eyeing a flat rock just off the path. It was big enough to share.

"Shouldn't we go a little farther? At least until we reach the tree line. We are pretty exposed up here. That way we can have some lunch as well."

"Smart. How are your legs holding up though?"

"Fine. I can make it without too much of a push."

Her thighs must be more muscular than I assumed.

Focus.

Oh, I'm extremely focused just now.

On something other than the strength of our Little Valkyrie's thighs.

A purely academic observation. I'm gauging our pace for the day. We are making much better time than I calculated. We will make it to the safety of those forested stone outcroppings by nightfall. We can even risk a fire there.

Purely? You are not imagining her thighs clamped around your head.. spread out next to your not-so-risky fire?

Fuck off.

It was his turn to slide slightly on the scree and Gwyn smiled.

"How are your legs, Commander?"

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"I am actually." She turned to take in the horizon ahead of them. "If I'm not mistaken…"

"And you so rarely are."

"Those trees mark the border between our courts. This will be my first time stepping out of the Night Court. I'd rather not dawdle on the edge of something so important if that makes any sense."

"In that case, my legs are fine. I just need to keep a better eye on the trail under my feet, instead of the view before me."

Gwyn's eyes widened slightly. She glanced quickly down the path as a blush crept across her high cheeks.

What?! We are on a mountaintop. Don't people compliment the views in such places?

You did not mean the mountains.

I could have.

But you did not.

Should it frighten me that she knew that?

No, but it will anyway.

About an hour later, they rather unceremoniously reached the tree line. Gwyn collapsed gratefully into the soft earth and reached blindly for her canteen.

"You should stretch a bit. Your knees have been bent and straining all morning. Muscles work in opposing pairs. Focus on waking up your hamstrings before you snack and again before we continue on." At his words, Gwyn aggressively bit off a bit of trail biscuit before straightening her legs and reaching for her toes with an exasperated sigh. It quickly turned to a groan, and Azriel smirked.

"We are making better time than I had initially thought. The hardest part of today is actually behind us, thanks to you." His praise gave her a smug look that implied he was forgiven for hounding her earlier. "This road is not untraveled. If we move off into the woods a bit, we can risk a small fire for tea. The shadows can disburse the smoke for a time. Same for tonight, but it won't work on a fire large enough to cook game. We won't have the time either."

"What about fish?"

"Fish is a nearly perfect trail food. Full of protein, easy to clean, cooks fast, and what you can't eat is easily buried without leaving a trace. Unfortunately, it is not always easy to come by, and rigging up poles can take time and materials we can't afford to carry."

"I'm good at fishing."

"Fishing is mostly luck, Gwyn."

"Says someone not good at fishing." At his incredulous look, she continued. "Some luck to be sure, but knowing when, where, and how makes a big difference in catching a good fish. Plus, you brought all the materials you need."

"I did?" He spared a glance at the pack, curious if she had snuck in some extra items without his detection. She smirked at his curiosity and bent back over her legs and turned her face to rest gently on her knees.

"You brought a river nymph." As though what he needed to contemplate right now was her quick hands and pliable bones.

"You said you wanted to talk about Helion."

"No. I said we should talk about Helion." She smiled and gave him the space he needed to collect his thoughts. Given that he hadn't spent any of that morning thinking about Helion, he wasn't sure where to begin.

"Some of this, I didn't share in front of Cassian and Nesta, because it feels like gossip. Some things feel unfair because I just know because of the shadows or because I cannot help but observe intimate details when I'm around people. However, this is a mission and we are a team. I can't predict what information may prove relevant or helpful, so I will share my impressions of the male and his court." Azriel took a deep breath before continuing. "Cassian was correct. Helion has propositioned me for sex on more than one occasion. I guess that is as good a place to start as any. If we encounter him, he will likely do so again. Don't let it shock or distract you."

"Has he pressured you?"

"Oh. Absolutely not. He is a good male at heart. His only disrespect is in repeating his attempts as though I do not know my own mind."

"Is it because he is male that you have refused him?"

"Why do you ask?" Azriel was expecting to talk about Helion, but he should have known better by now than to try to predict the direction of a conversation with Gwyn. He should have assumed that she would be actively curious and able to make emotional connections with just a few bits of information. That was why he brought her.

"You obviously don't have to answer. I've never met Helion myself, but I know that you are attracted to females. I was just trying to gauge if the problem was with his personality or his gender or both."

"His personality. Do not be confused by his reputation or what you may have heard from Mor. Helion is capable of great love, but the Cauldron has not been kind to him. And in the absence of great love, he has become a bit of a collector. He is sincere in his affections, but his interests have always struck me as more of a fetish for the obscure or that which he cannot or should not want or have. I have never found that attention particularly compelling. So, to answer your question, it's not that he's a male. No."

The space Gwyn gave him was respectful, but also expected to be answered. He liked to think that he had taught her that, but perhaps it was just her way. Somehow when she did it, it seemed more like empathy and maybe it was.

"My experience of males has been, by and large, defined by extreme violence, though not exclusively. I have been with males before, Gwyn. Usually accompanied by a female, though not exclusively." He felt a smile tug on his lips as he ducked his head shyly at a flash of fond memories.

"I am curious by nature and I have sought out affection, just like anyone else. I know people think I hate myself, but everyone enjoys feeling wanted by others."

"Not everyone." He had never heard such smallness in her voice.

"Fair enough. Does it frighten you? Being as beautiful as you are?"

"Does it frighten you?" At his confused look, she continued with a smile. "Being as beautiful as you are?"

"No. I guess not. Though I have learned, in my way, to be wary of males. It can take a long time for me to build trust and intimacy with another. To want to touch someone with my hands. To find pleasure in allowing them to touch me. But then again, I have lived for a very long time."

"It does frighten me." After a quiet beat, she rewarded his honesty with an answer of her own. "I know what attracted those soldiers to me was not my beauty. But, I can feel it when a male's eyes fall on me in that way. I have felt wanted, physically, in my life. It is an experience that I have, by and large, found terrifying." Her smile was faint. "Though not exclusively."

He could barely breathe. Why was talking to her so exhilarating and yet so easy?

"Can I ask you a question?" Her voice was more gentle and hesitant. It was a tone she afforded his secrets, though never her own.

"Please do, Gwyn."

"You said usually with a female…"

"Ah. Yes."

"Obviously, I've never taken a lover." Azriel chuckled at her words.

"Taken a lover, Gwyneth? Truly?"

"Are you really mocking my word choice right now?"

"No. Sorry. The floor is yours, milady." He risked a wink.

"I can't imagine wanting to share my lover or ever BE shared." The stress on her words was pure disgust.

"Me either."

"Well then, I'm confused."

"The situations that I have found most compelling have been when I've been approached by a couple. They invited me to their bed. Some situations were very compelling. We set boundaries and communicated what we were comfortable with and what we were not. I've told you that I've never been intimate with someone I loved, but the couples I have been with shared great love and trust. Usually, they had been together for a long time. I just cannot imagine being part of that type of couple. If I ever found someone I could commit my life to, I do not imagine that I would want to open our bed to others." The air between them had grown heavy at his words.

"I'm surprised Nesta and Cassian haven't asked you to join them." She was clearly trying to defuse the tension, but there was a real question in her eyes. So, he gave her an honest answer.

"Actually, so am I. But mates are different. Or so I've been told."

"You just blamed the mating bond and not an actual aversion to sharing a female with one's own brother."

"If that's your way of asking if we've done it, Gwyneth, then I will warn you that I will not discuss Cassian's past sexual exploits behind his back. Except to say that you can believe me when I tell you that I am his chosen brother and not his lover." She seemed pleased with his answer, his honesty, and his discretion, which meant it was his turn to tease.

"I'm surprised they haven't asked you. Unless you've been holding out on me, Gwyneth." She actually snorted.

"Please. You know all my secrets, Shadowsinger. Nesta talks a good game, but if another female ever approached Cassian sexually, she'd be a dead female soon enough."

"Mates are different."

"So I've been told." There it was again, that heavy, charged air. "And Helion doesn't have a mate."

"Ah. Helion. Yes, we were talking about Helion." Azriel took a deep breath. "Actually, he does have a mate."

"I've never heard that."

"I've never told anyone that."

"How do you know about it?"

"I'm the Spymaster of the Night Court."

"Who is his mate?"

"Lucien's mother."

"Does Lucien's father know?"

"He is Lucien's father."

"Does Beron know?"

"Beron does know."

When they spoke like this everything else fell away for him. The shadows quieted, along with the sights and sounds around him. His world became her. And it was getting worse. Beyond the gleam in her eye or the slight tilt of her head that telegraphed a question, he lived for nothing but her company. He lived for nothing but her words and what of himself they would draw out into the light.

You talk. We keep watch. You are safe.

"Beron treats everyone like property, everything like a transaction. Without the mating bond, maybe it would have gone down differently. To Beron, Helion's bond gives him certain sacred rights to his wife's body. He bows to the bond, not to Helion and definitely not to his wife. She is his to share as he sees fit and in accordance with what law he deems appropriate." He let that concept soak in before continuing. "It also gives him leverage over her and her children. Plus, the more heirs in Autumn the more chances Beron has to pit them against each other. The fact that Helion loves her deeply is inconsequential to a male like Beron. Probably hasn't even occurred to him, beyond the power it gives him over them both."

"That poor female. Is there any way that we can help her?"

Oh, Sweet Gwyn. Bless your brave and beautiful heart.

Tell her.

"I've had a contact placed in the court for years. A very trustworthy female. So far, she won't budge. I don't know why."

"And if she did?"

"I'd see her safe. And if Rhys ever let me, I'd kill Beron and at least one of his sons."

"They hurt Mor."

"They hurt a lot of people. That male is a cancer."

"Is it wrong that I'm glad we don't have to go there yet?"

"No. You're not ready for Beron, Gwyn."

"And when I am?"

"Then we take him down together. But first, we need to walk into the Day Court, quietly duplicate an ancient text, and get out undetected."

"Then what are we waiting here for, Commander? After you."

At night, the pair made camp against the granite outcroppings that had been his destination for their first day on the trail. Azriel made sure they were tucked close against the rock face with plenty of visibility and no opportunities for anyone to sneak up behind them in the night. Though even with the shadows standing guard, Azriel would get little sleep here.

They had shared a pot of warm tea, some jerky, and fistfuls of dried fruit with barely a word. It was a comfortable quiet though. All conversation had yielded to an easy rhythm of activity between their bodies. From the moment they dropped their packs and set about gathering fresh water and firewood, Azriel was struck with how simply the two operated. Gwyn's desire to be useful and her keen observation skills meant that when he removed the kettle from his pack, Gwyn collected firewood without question. When he reached for the water near to boiling, two small cups appeared at his elbow without a word or hesitation.

Azriel watched as Gwyn shifted again inside her bedroll. He had remained seated against the rocks. His right elbow rested firmly on his bent knee. His left sprawled out seemingly casually in the soft grass. In truth, he had his dagger hidden against that thigh and a small crossbow tucked under the unused bedroll to his right. Gwyn had placed her body parallel to the rock, with her head to his left. They had determined that to be the most likely direction should another group approach. Hence, her Fae hearing aimed and his dagger at the ready. He continued to sip the tea, now long cold and watched.

"You can stop pretending to sleep, Gwyn."

"I'm not pretending. I just haven't given up yet, Commander."

"Sleeping in front of another can be very difficult. It can be more intimate than…"

"Is that why you're not sleeping?"

"Maybe. I haven't slept in front of another in a very long time."

"Are you worried that I will draw a mustache on your face?"

"I think I'd look good with a mustache."

"Not a really skinny one that twirls spectacularly at the ends."

He actually snorted. "Good night, Gwyn."

"Sweet dreams, Commander." He snorted again.

Azriel was still listening to the sounds of the forest hours later when he heard a small whimper come from Gwyn's bedroll.

Mother, save me. If she starts moaning in her sleep, I don't know what I will do.

She will not.

Unless she moans my name. Then I know exactly what I will do.

She will not.

Immediately, Gwyn started to thrash about fighting invisible hands grabbing at her thighs. Her terrified scream silenced every other sound in the woods.

Calm her. If I touch her, it could just make it worse. We can't just leave her to her nightmare and her screams could bring predators we do not need.

At his request, the shadows swarmed her body. They whispered across her skin with the calming pulse and darkness of a nurturing womb. Only to retreat, as the tide from the shore, at the first sign of Gwyn awakening. She rolled to face him and sighed.

"I hate kitchens." There was that small voice again. He huffed at her words, a haunting image flashing before his eyes and he struggled not to flinch before her gaze.

"You're not in that kitchen anymore, Gwyn."

"I'm always in that kitchen, Azriel." He gave her a sad, quiet smile and let her find her words.

"It took me months to even be able to volunteer in the kitchen with the other priestesses. I thought it was progress. I'm a fool."

"Progress doesn't mean being immune to nightmares. Progress means being capable of dreams. Do you dream, Gwyn?"

"Yes. I do." She smiled at him. "More so lately."

"Then I like your chances?" A slight tilt of her head and he knew the question was coming.

"Do you dream, Az?"

"Yes. I do." He smiled at her. "More so lately." The air again was charged and heavy.

"Will you be able to sleep? We have a long walk tomorrow."

"I doubt it."

Azriel placed his bedroll across his lap, a buffer of sorts. Gwyn's eyes widened, but he knew it was at the exposed crossbow. He crooked his knee as a makeshift pillow and waved his dagger, beckoning amidst the shadows. "Come. Sleep. We will look after you."

Gwyn hesitated only briefly before inching closer and settling into the nest Azriel had crafted for her within the protection of his own body. She curled with her back to him, leaning gently into the inside of his muscular thigh. He was about to ask if she was comfortable when he got his answer.

Little Valkyrie is asleep.

Only when Azriel was sure they were correct, did he begin to sing.

Little Valkyrie will wake soon.

I heard you the last two times you said that.

Do you plan to be watching her this closely when she opens her eyes today?

Oh. I see your point.

Probably not, unless it is somehow written in her freckles.

Fuck off. Can you support her head for me? I will slide out and start on some tea.

Once the tea had steeped, Azriel moved quietly through his standard set of strengthening exercises. He needed to warm up his muscles and distract himself from the thoughts he couldn't squelch in the night. They had another half day of constant walking, at least, and after yesterday, Azriel had given up on guessing what intimate topics they could end up discussing on the road.

He lost count of how long he had been holding his body in the plank position, but sweat was starting to drip into his eyes. Gwyn had to be awake soon. Azriel chanced a glance over his shoulder to her bedroll, only to find that her eyes were watching him with a tenderness that cracked his chest wide open, again.

You could have told me that she was awake.

Could have, but Little Valkyrie was enjoying watching your practice.

Was she now?

Azriel knew that he was smirking and he relished her responding blush.

She WAS… Commander.

Why do you have to ruin everything?

We really don't.

"I made tea."

"Thank you."

"You should stretch too. We have more walking ahead and sleeping on the ground can make you pretty stiff in the morning."

"Does it now?" It was her turn to smirk and his turn to blush.

"Clever. If we start walking soon, we should make it by the noon service. That will be the perfect time to explore a bit on our own." She nodded and set to work on her stretches.

I am the rock against which the surf crashes.

Or something like that.

The remainder of the morning passed quickly enough and the pair made it to the temple with impeccable timing. Gwyn fell into step with a dozen local priestesses heading into what they guessed was the main chapel. Gwyn's robes were similar enough to avoid immediate detection, and the hood was pulled up to cover what she had been mockingly referring to as her noticeable hair all morning.

They had run through the plan three times in total, with the last being Gwyn's turn to explain it back to him. Once they left the seclusion of the woods, Azriel kept to the shadows and would only reveal himself if violence became necessary and Gwyn needed additional help. The presence of the SpyMaster of the Night Court rarely went unnoticed and should be avoided at all costs.

At the last moment, Gwyn turned on cue to the right instead of following the others left into the chapel itself. According to his spies, this corridor ran across the temple to the library and an atrium that was designated for the private viewing of rare artifacts and manuscripts. With any luck, the documents would be housed nearby.

As they approached the library, the corridor was lined on both sides with low cabinets. Each tiny drawer was meticulously labeled and Gwyn ran her hands over the smooth wooden front with fondness and familiarity. She let out a muted squeal as she read the first minuscule card she found. "The system is identical to the one Clotho perfected centuries ago. I should have the exact location in minutes."

As predicted, Gwyn located the appropriate reference card with a buzz of triumph. According to the card filed under PROPHECIES and cross-referenced under SWORD, the manuscript was kept in Drawer 77. These corresponding drawers were found along a circular hallway that ringed the outer edge of the attached viewing atrium. Within the atrium itself, skylights high above offered indirect light glowing down on long formal reading tables.

Just beyond the last table, Helion paced nervously.

The High Lord locked eyes with Gwyn and froze in confused shock. Azriel had never seen Helion so frazzled. It passed quickly and was replaced by the smug curiosity that Azriel had come to expect over the centuries.

"Well, Mother bless me." Helion breathed with a honeyed voice full of open affection as he inspected Gwyn head to toe. She was still frozen across the room near the entrance. "Aren't you totally and utterly…. unexpected?"

"My apologies, High Lord. I can return to my work later. I didn't know that this room was currently occupied."

Neither did I. Want to tell me why?

He means her no harm. Little Valkyrie will want to meet him.

Helion seemed to gather his wits and glided his way toward her. He stopped expectantly before Gwyn and inhaled deeply. His eyes fluttered closed only briefly. "Come now, Rhys won't wait forever for… well, whatever it is that he wants from me this time."

Shit. Do not lie, Gwyn. Keep it simple, but do not lie.

Have faith. You trained her well.

Was that a compliment?

Focus.

"My name is Gwyneth Berdara. I work for Clotho."

"Who, in turn, reports to Rhys, as I said." Helion leaned back casually against the nearest table and crossed his ankles before continuing. "Berdara? I haven't heard that name in ages."

"I'm surprised you've heard of it at all." Gwyn stated flatly. He chuckled but kept a piercing gaze trained on her delicate face. She shifted the manuscript box slightly onto her left hip. This obscured the drawer number into the folds of her robe and freed her right hand to slide innocently near her pocket.

Good girl. Hopefully, she won't need to stab him. But, she is thinking about it. I like it.

Of course, you do. Little Valkyrie will have no cause to stab him. We would not allow her to walk into danger.

"You're a very confident female for one so young." His eyes crinkled with obvious mirth. "Who would have thought that it would be Rhys to send me such a stunning little creature?"

"I apologize for any confusion. I am a scribe and a scholar. I was not sent for you exactly." Helion offered an impressed nod at her show of grit.

"Then take whatever it is that you need, Gwyneth Berdara. Rhys will tell me when he is ready, or he won't. He may not be able to trust me, but I have no such limitations at the moment. In fact, I'm feeling quite generous suddenly."

Do not open the box in front of him. Ask him why he is here, Gwyn.

She understands her task.

"Thank you. I will just find another alcove within which to commence my study."

"Stay here. Stay as long as you like. I can ensure that you are not disturbed in your… research."

"Aren't you meeting someone here?" At his raised brow, she continued. "You seemed to be waiting for someone when I entered."

"I was waiting for you, of course."

"How is that possible?"

"You triggered a spell, Gwyneth Berdara. One that was not designed for you, I'll admit."

"What spell is that?"

"One that I haven't decided to tell you about just yet."

Gwyn shrugged in obvious dismissal, but Azriel knew that she was as curious as he was. Gwyn rounded to the table against which the High Lord had been leaning and headed for the far end. It was out of the way, and also near a side exit. Helion shifted suddenly to his feet and stopped just over her shoulder.

"May I?" Before she could answer, Helion reached a trembling hand to touch her hair. He let out a small sigh as his knuckles brushed only slightly against a few stray strands. Gwyn froze at the sound. "I've made you uncomfortable. I am sorry. That was not my intention."

Helion took another extended inhale and circled to Gwyn's front, hands clasped behind his back. Somehow, the High Lord managed to smirk directly into the shadows shielding Azriel, though Azriel knew there was no way that he could be seen.

"The spell indicated two visitors. Since I cannot see your companion, I can only assume that I know who travels with you. His magic is old and slippery, beyond even my own. As loath as I am to admit that. He would never stand for you to come here unguarded." He let a dark chuckle slip through his lips before continuing almost to himself. "I think this will be more fun than having him for myself, and I hear that is saying quite a lot."

If he touches her again this will escalate quickly.

Focus. You do not understand what is happening.

No shit.

"What will be more fun, High Lord?" The innocence in Gwyn's eye might fool a stranger, but Azriel saw wariness creeping across her face. So did Helion, which was surprising. His smile held a gentle kindness that Azriel had never seen on that face. He sketched a respectful bow to her, and Azriel was shocked to see that it held none of his usual sarcasm.

This was not at all what anyone had prepared her for. Something is wrong.

Not wrong. Different.

"Your scent gives much away, Gwyneth. Even a few things of which you may not be aware." His smile was for Gwyn, but his eyes traveled over her shoulder. They were, yet again, unnervingly close to finding Azriel's own hidden beneath the shadows.

"Don't!" Gwyn's shout was the only break in her composure since the nightmare in the woods. It took Azriel by surprise, but not Helion.

"Ah. I see. Another day perhaps." Gwyn relaxed slightly, though she still looked rattled. "May I ask about your red hair? It is a very unique shade."

"Please don't say noticeable." She grumbled.

"Why ever not?"

"No reason." Gwyn took a breath and began to recite her heritage verbatim and with a clinical tone Azriel had heard before and stopped believing. "My maternal grandmother was a river nymph who seduced a male from the Autumn Court."

"And did your mother have red hair then?"

"No. Actually, it was black. Like my sister's."

"There are two of you?" Helion crowed.

"Were two of us."

"I'm sorry." Azriel could hear the sincerity as his voice cracked slightly.

"And what do you know of your father's people?"

"Not much. I am a child of Calanmai. My father is unknown."

"So, you were raised in a temple, I'm assuming."

"At Sangravah." At the word, Helion whirled with a terror Azriel had never seen in his eyes.

"No." It was a whimper, not a word. "You're the one who saved all those children?"

Gwyn could only nod, studying her shoes. Azriel had not seen her this exposed before anyone, except himself.

"And he is the one who saved you." This time it was not a question, but Gwyn met his eyes and her tone brooked no argument.

"Yes. That day and many times since." She was almost daring him to object. Azriel couldn't breathe.

"This is all starting to make sense to me now. It also means that I have come to a decision." Helion sat and gestured for Gwyn to do so as well. "You've more than earned a bit of my story. Both of you have." He nodded to Azriel's dark corner, accepting that the SpyMaster would remain hidden.

"Point of fact, you have tripped two spells. The first is designed for the stunning redhead who stole my heart and refuses to return it. The spell alerts me when she crosses over our borders and into my court and it indicates her intended destination. It has allowed us to meet privately for centuries. Although, this would have been the first time in a library." Helion looked around the sunlit room full of wide, long tables and enjoyed a lascivious grin. He shook his head to clear it before turning back to Gwyn, and his story.

"Many wouldn't notice it, given how strong the nymph blood is with your features. Rhys may not even suspect, but then again he is Rhys, so who knows what he knows. But, the magic does not lie and neither does your hair. Part of her lives in you, Gwyn." His eyes softened further. "You see, the second spell that you triggered is designed for our sons."

"Sons?"

"In fact, with both spells triggered. I thought perhaps Lucien was finally bringing his mother here to stay. To safety. That maybe we had made some progress at last."

"I'm still confused."

"I can tell you that both of my sons have participated in Calanmai at one point or another. Lucien, through his disastrous friendship with Tamlin. Maël, our other son and your father, because Beron required it of him every year, once he reached maturity." A cloud covered his eyes. "Beron would never risk his own lineage, you see, just mine. Maël means prince, another of Beron's barbs. His idea of a joke, I guess. Lucien has fathered no children. I was able to ascertain as much when I met him and I can see the question in your eyes. Yes, we have spoken. That is all I will say. Maël died before I could meet him, though his death is not my story to tell."

"You're telling me that my father is dead?"

"Yes. Though you are my blood, Gwyneth. Of that, there is no doubt." He rose as though from a trance. "And as such, you are welcome to return anytime and in whatever capacity you deem fit. Tell Rhys, don't tell Rhys. That is your choice. I would encourage you to speak to Lucien though. He is a good male. There is more I would like to share, once you have had some time to process and perhaps when we are alone. And, if you're interested in exploring your powers…"

"My powers are healing. Just because I do not wear the stone…"

"Your powers do not live in a stone, Gwyneth. From what I can see, yours are not the compulsion of the nymphs, nor actual spell cleaving. You seem to be some combination of the two that I have never witnessed. I would expect that you are extremely disarming. Have you noticed? I bet he has." Helion offered with another glance to Azriel and a knowing chuckle.

"Speaking of spell work, there's a bit of something odd around your neck." Helion seemed to stare directly at her clavicle just above the clasp of her robes. "Ah. That hag, Merrill, has placed a sort of bell on you. Have Clotho reassign you. Clotho, I trust. It is fascinating work, though, if you'll allow me, I would like to remove it." He waved a hand vaguely in her direction before heading toward the door.

"I would like to return. I mean to say that I intend to return."

"I look forward to it, Gwyneth."

"Gwyn. My friends call me Gwyn."

"And what does your family call you?"

"I have no family left."

"You do now."

We are her family.

There is room in her heart for more.

Gwyn copied the manuscript and retraced her steps quietly. So much had changed that Azriel was shocked to find that the noon service was not complete. They encountered no one as they slipped from the temple and made for a rendezvous point in the nearby woods.

Azriel stepped from the shadows and Gwyn whirled on him at the sound of a twig breaking behind her.

"Does Rhys know? Is that why he sent me?"

"I don't know." He stammered and her eyes narrowed. "Not that he told me. Though it would make sense, I guess. In case the manuscript was warded to respond to Helion in some way. Being his heir…"

"I am not his heir." Gwyn looked absolutely exhausted or perhaps drunk on adrenaline. "Why didn't you tell Rhys about Helion? Don't you trust him?"

"I trust Rhys, but he has been under the mountain for a long time. I've just grown accustomed to keeping track of things on my own. I only bring intel to his attention when it becomes important. I keep files on all intelligence I gather on my missions and I brief him when necessary."

"So. Is that what you're gonna do now? Open a file for Gwyneth Berdara: Granddaughter to the High Lord of Day and the Lady of Autumn, Niece to Lucien Samsara. One-quarter nymph, Valkyrie, Priestess, Carynthian, Wielder of some unknown power that is not compulsion and is not spell cleaving."

"You already have a file." Azriel responded without thinking.

"Fuck you and your file, Commander."

"What is this about? You cannot possibly be so naive. Did you think that you were sent into the field without so much as a personnel file?"

"That isn't what you meant and you know it?"

"I don't understand why we are fighting about this."

"Liar." She hissed at him and it sparked something primal in his blood.

"Now, now, Gwyn. We said no pet names, remember."

"You're gonna want to walk away. Right. Now."

"I don't walk away from a fight." Azriel stepped closer to her under the canopy of trees and he felt a shaft of light hit upon his face and chest. He hadn't realized how short his breathing had become. She shook her head in disgust and turned. She started to speak as though to a child.

"I don't understand how it is not relevant that Lucien is not Beron's son. He is our emissary to the human realm and tensions are escalating with Autumn. How is that intel not necessary?"

"It is. Rhys and Feyre already know about Lucien." She whirled on him again.

"You said you never told anyone."

"No. I said I never told anyone that Helion has a mate. Not that I never told anyone about the affair or the fact that Lucien is his son. Anyway, Feyre figured it out on her own."

"Ok. So, how did Lucien handle it when she told him? Was that before or after he spoke with Helion?"

"As far as I know, she never told him. I don't know when he spoke to Helion or what about."

She just gaped at him. "What in the ever-loving fuck are you people up to?"

"You people?"

"You're just playing with people's lives."

"Rhys is the High Lord, Gwyn. He can do anything he wants with people's lives and other High Lords have done worse. We are lucky to have Rhys, as much as it kills me to say that. Please, don't tell him I said that."

"I'm not joking here, Azriel."

"Neither am I, Gwyneth. He could close the library and open a petting zoo if the mood struck him."

"A fucking petting zoo? You condescending prick!"

"Ok. Bad analogy."

"You think!" She threw up her hands.

Any help here?

Nope. On your own. Words are important.

"I never thought I would say this to you. But you should probably stop talking right now." Gwyn was seething now.

"I follow orders, Gwyn. He can be my brother and my High Lord, just as I am your friend and your commander. How is that any different?"

"I don't think you want me to answer that right now."

"Why? I've never known you to have trouble telling the truth, even when you're angry."

"It WOULD be the truth, Commander. And with all due respect, you've never known me angry."

The image of Gwyn with a knife to Cassian's throat stilled his retort on his lips. She had been through so much for her age. It was a lot to take in. He had to find a way out of this argument.

"I guess we are having our first fight."

"Well. We wouldn't be if you could stop being the Spymaster for one damn second and treat me like the friend you claim to be."

Don't.

Wasn't going to.

Liar.

Fuck off.

"I am your friend, Gwyn. Always. And I won't tell Rhys if you don't want me to, but I have an obligation to everyone in my court." He sighed. "What I can offer you is that I will write up my notes regarding Helion and everything I learned today about his sons, Beron's involvement and that he has a living granddaughter in the priesthood. I will leave off your name for now. Would that be okay?"

"Yes. Thank you." Azriel chuckled at her shy smile.

"What is so funny?" He laughed even harder at her innocent face.

"Nothing. I'm just feeling really solid about my decision NOT to bed your grandfather."

I was going to say 'my decision not to FUCK your grandfather", you know, before.

We know.

I decided it was too crass.

It was.

And too soon.

That as well.

She has been very quiet.

Little Valkyrie is very quiet.

I think this is a truce.

It is a truce.

I don't like it when she gets angry.

You do.

Azriel managed to cover his smirk quickly as Gwyn glanced his way for the third time in as many minutes. They had winnowed in short bursts across the cold expanse of the Winter Court all afternoon. It was starting to make Gwyn nauseated. They were taking a chance for her stomach to settle and enjoying a bit of a hike through the burnished fields of Summer.

"I'm sorry I was rude before."

"Gwyn, you don't owe me an apology. You had a lot thrown at you today, from a stranger. I can take it."

"It just feels like every time I get close to getting some control back over my life, it slips away. I just keep getting pulled into war and politics that have nothing to do with me."

"This isn't the Blood Rite and the Illyrians' vendetta against Rhys." Gwyn shot him a knowing look.

"Fine. The vendetta against Rhys AND Cassian." Gwyn snorted. "This is family. Could be good to have some family again."

"Of course, it could be, but I have a family."

"That's not what you told Helion." Azriel was ashamed, although not surprised, at how much hurt had seeped into his voice. He couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"There is a lot I didn't tell Helion."

"Like the fact that I have a spy in the Forest House? I am grateful for that, by the way." He still wasn't looking at her, so it took him a moment to register that she had stopped walking.

"You think I'm going to spill Night Court secrets to some stranger, just because he has a nice smile and claims to be my grandfather? You said you saw me, Az. You promised you wouldn't forget."

Ouch.

Yeah.

"I'm sorry for that, Gwyn."

"Apology accepted, Az. Anyway, my relationships are none of his business. Knowing that people are close can be valuable intelligence. I could put people at risk." Gwyn stopped again. "Why are you laughing?"

"You're not wrong. That is very clever, but I'm the SpyMaster of the Night Court and you think I'm in MORE danger because someone might learn that we are good friends!" She had called him that before, but for some reason, the words clanged awkwardly out of his mouth.

Are we good friends?

She is a good friend. You are a good friend. Friendship is not what lies between you.

"Well." Gwyn continued haughtily. "I'm feeling less bad about being mean to you earlier, Commander."

I'm starting to wish she would stop using that word.

She will. The moment it stops being true.

Azriel's throat went dry at the thought of their mission being over, at the thought of being home again with her. The shields that he had placed around his heart would vanish into mist. What would he do then? What would he be to her then?

"Cassian is gonna freak. Isn't he? Do you think Mor would prefer Granny or Great-Mistress?"

"Neither." Azriel chuckled. "So, you have decided to tell them then?"

"Do I have to know right now?"

"No. Not now."

"How much time can you give me, truly? Without putting anyone at risk."

"As much time as you need. I shouldn't have been thinking about how to do my job before. This is personal and it is completely your choice. I'll take this information to my grave if that will give you peace." He looked straight into her eyes, willing her to see the sincerity there.

"Oh, the drama! Always so dramatic, Shadowsinger. Graves and such. Bless your over-dramatic little heart." Gwyn nudged him with her shoulder as she passed. Azriel fell in step beside her as they continued down the path. He watched longingly as she skimmed her hand affectionately along the tips of the tall grass.

"Do you think he was telling the truth?" Gwyn sounded nervous like she wasn't sure she was ready to hear his answer.

"I can assure you that he was telling the truth. As he understands it, at least." Her head snapped up at his words.

"So, we don't know if he is correct, just that he was sincere when he spoke."

"Exactly."

"And if I wanted to look into it…"

"All you need do is ask, Gwyn. If you're ever curious, I will help you find the truth."

"Thank you."

"And if I don't want to look into it…"

"It would worry me, how well you know me." Azriel sighed. "It would be difficult not to track it down on my own. I've spent centuries pulling these types of threads. But, if you didn't want me to dig, I would respect that."

"Thank you."

"I can tell you that you do look like her. I had no reason to make the connection before, but now that he said it, I can see it. A younger and more stunning version, with a nymph's grace, but it is there." Gwyn's cheeks flamed and Azriel had to fight a satisfied grin. He expected a deflection, but he wasn't expecting the one he received.

"Do you know how my father died?" Her voice was small again, but he wouldn't patronize her. If she had the nerve to ask the question, he had committed himself to give her his whole truth.

"If he is right about your heritage, then I have heard the story. Yes."

"Will you tell me? Right now. Before we get back. I need to know what I'm getting into if I go down this road."

"Lucien was forced to kill him." Her eyes shot to his pleading for it not to be true and he wished for her that it was not. "It was self-defense. Eris sent a warning ahead to Tamlin. As far as I'm aware, it is the only redeemable act that Eris has ever managed. Beron had sent them after Lucien. Tamlin killed the other two. That is the story as I have heard it."

"So my father was not a good male?"

"I didn't know him, Gwyn. But from what Helion said and from what I have heard of him, Beron had quite a bit of control over him and Beron has nothing good in him. Lucien is darker skinned than his brothers and there were always rumors, but I don't think anyone guessed that Helion had another son. Except, apparently Beron. He is the root of all the evil in the Autumn Court. If you're looking for someone to blame, I'd stick with him." Gwyn nodded but continued walking in silence.

"I've had my differences with Lucien, but he should get more credit than he does in the Night Court. You should consider talking to him. Given that Helion didn't know about you, it is safe to assume that Lucien doesn't either."

"That part feels less stressful somehow than talking to Rhys." Azriel looked up at her words and he knew that confusion was written on his face. "I will have a very hard time forgiving him if it turns out that he knew this about me and kept it a secret. Well, more than that really, used it to his advantage without even telling me."

"Then let's hope for his sake, that he isn't that stupid." The surprise that flickered across her face broke his heart.

I guess I deserve that.

No. You do not. Focus.

"I don't think stupid is the right word. Shrewd? Some might say callous. Words matter, Shadowsinger."

"I was thinking more of a death fetish or whatever you called it, but I will defer to your judgment here." Thankfully, she laughed and some ease returned between them. He wasn't sure when Gwyn's feelings became more important to him than the political maneuverings by Rhys. But, if he had wronged her, Azriel would stand beside her.

"Are you ready to winnow again? I'm getting hungry."

"How far is it this time?"

"This time we make it into Spring. There are mountains on the western coast. I have a contact who keeps a cabin there for our use. I will warn you that it rains a lot there, but we can winnow very close to the structure itself. I sent the signal before we left Velaris. She knows to expect us and we are, thankfully, perfectly on time." Gwyn stiffened.

"If she turns out to be some long-lost cousin, I may never forgive you." Azriel chuckled and continued quickly.

"You won't be meeting any more people today, Gwyn. Plus, I don't think there are any river nymphs in those mountains anyway." He chanced a reassuring caress across her lower back and reached for her hand. "She will have food for us on the hearth, first aid supplies in case we need them, and leave before we arrive. She will visit her daughter in an adjacent valley for the night. The cabin also has weapons hidden. We will be safe there. I can promise you that."

"That sounds lovely. Winnow away, Commander."

When they arrived in the mountains to a downpour of cold spring rain, Gwyn was immediately and noticeably less enthusiastic. "Remind me again why we couldn't winnow directly into this cabin."

She groused for the third time.

"Wards." Azriel was trying to be patient, but he was soaked to the bone as well. "Wards on the cabin and all land within a one-mile radius surrounding it." Azriel watched as Gwyn set about wringing her hair out on the threshold.

"So when you said we could winnow very close, you meant walking a mile in cold mountain rain?"

"It would seem so. Yes."

The cabin was warm and he could smell dinner cooking in the fireplace. It lightened his mood instantly. The caretaker was just about his mother's age. A hearty, maternal type who always saw fit to leave his favorite goat meat stew simmering in a cast iron pot, some fresh crusts of bread, and a homemade cheese that he had never been able to find elsewhere. Azriel had been looking forward to this part of their trip for most of the day.

All of a sudden, standing next to Gwyn as their clothes dripped on the stone floor, the cabin seemed less friendly and more intimate - less welcoming, and more inviting. Gwyn huffed a breath and he swore he could feel it against his neck. Azriel knew the exact moment Gwyn realized that the cabin had only one bed. Her hands stilled on the thick, wet rope of her hair and she stepped forward slowly as though willing some normalcy into the movement.

"The food smells delicious." Her voice was flat, too flat.

"The caretaker is an extraordinary cook, Gwyn. The cabin is a simple place, but it will serve our needs for the night. You can take the bed. I will make a place near the fire."

"It is lovely, Azriel. I know that this is a work trip, but I'm now really wishing I had brought a book."

At the thought of the Valkryie's preference for books, Azriel stepped forward nervously to start preparing the cabin.

"There is a light curtain that separates the bed from the rest of the room." He drew the fabric shakily across a bit of twine that stretched just below the exposed wooden rafters. Azriel had never needed privacy here, but he would try to give Gwyn some semblance of comfort.

"As I said, you can take the bed. I'm happy to crash by the fire with Rufus."

"With whom?" At the sound of his name, an old herder with puppy eyes looked up from his worn pallet in the far corner just past the fire. At Azriel's command, he ambled over to nuzzle his pocket for treats, which he found easily. "Technically, he is an Anatolian Shepherd, though breeding doesn't matter up here. He is a strong worker. As he has gotten older, she has taken to leaving him here for the night. He looks sweet, but he is a ruthless bed hog if you don't keep an eye on him."

Gwyn chuckled and offered the back of her hand to Rufus by way of introduction. When he gave her a few enthusiastic wags of his tail, she rewarded him with a scratch behind both ears. Azriel knew that he shouldn't have been surprised at her ease with the animal.

"You've been around dogs before?"

"Not really, a few. Maybe I just have good instincts when it comes to grumpy, old beasts."

"You think you're pretty cute, right?"

"I'm adorable." She beamed back at him. "What should I do with my wet clothes?"

"Ah. Um. There is a similar line over by the fire. Check your pack for anything damp and hang it. There should be some simple, warm clothes in the cedar trunk at the end of the bed. I'm not sure anything will fit you properly, but it will be clean and dry. We can hang our stuff for the night. It will be dry by the time we set out in the morning. I've done this a million times before." Azriel chose to ignore her skeptical glance.

I've never been here with anyone.

Little Valkyrie knows that.

Definitely not here, alone with Gwyn.

You'll live.

"Wouldn't a smash and grab be more effective at night?" Azriel smiled back at her, thankful for the change in subject.

"Not with Tamlin prowling in his beast form at all hours of the night. My spies indicate that the best time to go unnoticed in Spring these days is in the early morning hours before the remnants of his staff arrive."

"Makes sense." Her voice was calm enough, but he noticed her jaw tick just slightly before she spoke again. "I'll change over there by the bed then?"

"Um. Sure. I'll change over there by the fire." They awkwardly shared another set of furtive glances and stepped away from one another with more urgency than the moment required.

It wasn't quite dusk and there was still a bit of light coming from the windows directly across from the bed. Gwyn would have plenty of light to work by and the angle meant that her privacy would remain intact despite the thinness of the curtain separating them as they changed.

It was only later that he realized his mistake. Azriel heard her breath catch as he reached to unlace and remove his wet trousers. He glanced up and could just make out her form turned fully to face his direction. It occurred to him then that his body was backlit by a roaring fireplace. He froze with his hands still tangled in the laces at his crotch.

Have I made her uncomfortable?

Is that anger or fear that you are scenting so desperately with both nostrils?

Definitely not.

Little Valkyrie is not uncomfortable. But now you are just standing there holding your wet clothes. She is also hungry. And tired.

Azriel continued to remove his clothes and dry his body. He dressed in a pair of low-slung cotton sleep pants that had managed to avoid the rain on his pack. He didn't have a dry shirt but thought to look for one in the trunk once Gwyn was done changing. He could still feel her eyes on him as he moved through his tasks and tried not to smirk when he heard her sit lightly on the end of the bed. She was waiting for him to finish. Waiting, and watching, he was relishing her attention. His smug demeanor died a moment later.

When Gwyn emerged from behind the curtain in a loose cotton sleeping gown that she was struggling to keep from slipping down over one toned shoulder, Azriel decided that she was neither cute, nor adorable, but just about the sexiest female he had ever devoured with his eyes.

"I've served us some bowls. I think it is cool enough to eat." At his offer, Gwyn took her bowl and snatched a bit of bread and cheese from the tray before the fire. She was like a playful otter sometimes, particularly when it came to food. They enjoyed the stew, laughing at stories of home. When the dishes were cleared away and exhaustion weighed heavy on Gwyn's eyes, Azriel flopped in front of the fire on a fresh bedroll. He curled onto his side as Rufus circled twice and collapsed against his chest.

Gwyn huffed and tossed over onto her other side. Azriel chuckled. "Don't tell me that I gave you the bed and you still can't sleep."

"I offered to take the chair. You said the fire wouldn't bother you." Azriel had been less surprised that she thought to ask about his comfort with the fire than he had been at his own ambivalence.

"Are you worried about nightmares?"

"Always. Although, I do feel pretty secure here. Have you noticed this cabin doesn't have a kitchen?" She smirked over a shoulder at him.

"So, it is either an open hearth or a sentient house for you, huh?"

"A girl can dream." Gwyn rolled back toward the fire and disarmed him with a soft, knowing smile.

"I slept well in the woods… eventually."

"I see."

"Knowing you were close by helped."

"I'm right here, Gwyn." He spoke reassuringly but did not move any closer or break eye contact with her.

"Ugh. You're insufferable." Gwyn tossed again, offering him her back. Azriel grinned.

"Would you like me to join you, Gwyneth?"

"Yes." Her voice was small. He couldn't see her face, but he could feel her blush.

"Then ask me nicely." She shot up into a sitting position at his audacity and her gown slipped further down that delicious shoulder.

"Ugh. I'd rather die." She mumbled, but her eyes raged at him.

"Sorry. I couldn't quite hear you, Gwyn. Did you say something?"

"Fine." She huffed again and drew herself up with a formal air. Unfortunately, she also straightened her gown. "Azriel… Shadowsinger, Wielder of the Legendary Blade, TruthTeller, Carynthian, and feared SpyMaster of the Night Court… will you hold me, so I might feel safe enough to sleep." The rage and formality evaporated, and all that remained in her eyes was a gentle request. She just wanted to feel safe, and he could give her that. He would give her that.

"You're always so dramatic, Gwyn." He grumbled as he pushed Rufus off of his chest and moved to stand. He approached the bed, grabbing an extra blanket from the back of a nearby chair on his way to her. Azriel worked slowly, telegraphing each movement for Gwyn to anticipate, giving her time to decline. He wrapped the extra blanket around her shoulders, making sure to cover all exposed skin, before climbing onto the bed behind her and leaning against the headboard. He pulled her back against his chest and tucked the bundle that was Gwyn, under his stubbled chin. Azriel could feel her smirk as he slid his dagger under the adjacent pillow.

"Goodnight, Gwyn."

"Goodnight, Az."

Minutes later, he knew that she was still not asleep and also not fully awake, but hovering somewhere in between. He started to sing anyway.

Azriel's first glimpse the following day was just the barest hint of a cerulean sky flirting behind the nearby mountains. Just the tiniest patch visible through the cabin window, but it told him he'd have to leave this bed soon. Azriel registered a familiar hardness between his legs and an altogether, unfamiliar softness pressed back against it. Azriel froze. Gwyn's back was curled lazily against the entire front of his body. Her head rested gently on the bicep he had apparently stretched beneath them. His chin was tucked affectionately into a lush mound of auburn hair. His free arm had snaked around her middle. His fingers were wedged between her warm body and the bed. His palm cupped her left breast protectively. His body was pitched forward slightly over hers as his top knee pressed into the bed between both of her own. From the feel of it, her gown had ridden up in the night.

I need to leave this bed immediately.

Do you even know why you are hiding from her again?

This isn't the same as before.

If they responded, it was drowned out by the sound of Gwyn releasing a tiny moan. She instinctively arched her back and ground her ass against the hardness that was still pressed possessively against her.

Help me get out of this bed before she wakes. I'm begging.

Why?

We don't have time for this. We cannot afford for her to wake up like this.

You cannot afford to misunderstand this. Think.

I am her Commander…

.. who knows that none of this is about your authority over her.

I do know that, but I also know that this cabin belongs to a delightful old lady and we are in her bed.

You actually could not care less about that fact. This exact possibility flashed through your mind the moment you suggested this mission to Rhys.

Exactly. I'm a pathetic pervert.

She wants you. That much has been clear for some time.

She is asleep. At this moment, she wants nothing. That is not consent, any more than waking up with an erection is an offer. I know she wants me. And when we take that step, it will be with eyes wide open.

And?

And, it will not be during her first mission. When she looks back at her first successful mission as a member of the Night Court, as a Valkyrie, there will be no part of it that belongs to me.

Welcome to the conversation, Shadowsinger. Go start the tea.

By the time Gwyn woke fully. Azriel was dressed in his leathers and had breakfast ready.

"We will have a light breakfast here, but if all goes well, we will be home by late afternoon." His voice was barely a whisper and he watched her face closely for any signs of uncertainty or discomfort. He found none.

"Is there tea?" Her voice was small and he couldn't help but smile at the sound. He'd learned that her first words of the day always sounded this way, muffled and hesitant from disuse. Azriel nodded, preserving the quiet between them, though he was sure she didn't register the movement through her half-lidded eyes. The carpet tempered his steps as he made his way slowly to the bedside. Azriel guided her delicate fingers around a mug of strong black tea. She smiled at the feel and brought both hands to cradle it protectively.

"We even have sugar." She groaned appreciatively at the news and took a measured breath over the rim. "I can help you dress after breakfast."

Gwyn blinked up at him with utter confusion. "I'm slow in the morning, but not that slow."

Azriel chucked. He was getting used to the feel of it on his face and the sound of his own happiness in his ears. "I meant to help you camouflage for the mission. We should leave soon." He gestured with his mug toward the window. "Before the sky brightens any further."

"Ah. Yes. My hair."

"Your hair. And your skin."

"My skin?"

"It is luminous."

You're a poet now?

Fuck off.

"And that is… noticeable?"

"Yes, it really is."

Azriel wanted to reach for her then. To slide his hand across her cheek until his fingers were buried in her hair and his palm cradled the beautiful curve of her jaw. He pictured her leaning into the touch and her eyes drifting closed again, the tea forgotten. He stepped away.

Once she was dressed in her leathers, he returned with a tiny pot of black powder and set about smudging her face carefully with the pads of his fingers. Thankfully, Gwyn trained her eyes on a spot just below his chin and he tried not to linger.

"There. That's better." Azriel turned quickly away to retrieve the ribbon and escape her stunning face. Gwyn found the mirror and snorted.

"Well, now I just look filthy."

"If you get caught, you can claim to be a chimney sweep." Azriel smiled back at her from his pack. His smile faded when hers did.

"What do I do, if I'm caught."

"Maim. Don't kill, unless you cannot get free of them. If we are separated, hide and wait for me to find you. If it takes more than a few hours, reach out with your mind for Rhys. If he does not appear, you start walking north. Continue to try him periodically, but stay alert. Do not try to make it back to the cabin in the west. Do not head into Autumn. At the junction of Summer, Spring, and Autumn, there is a village. The seamstress is a contact. Tell her that Cyrus needs his cloak asap. She will see you to safety." Gwyn's eyes were wide, but he knew she had retained every detail. "Now turn. It is time to braid your hair."

"You were serious about that?"

"Apparently. Now, turn around." When she didn't move, Azriel used his pointer finger to mimic the appropriate motion. He was pleased by the eye roll he received in return.

Dear Mother, it is softer than I remember. Why is it softer than I remember?

You've always been a creature of self-preservation.

True.

Except when you are not.

Helpful.

Azriel was expecting a quip. He didn't get one. Gwyn just accepted the offered hand mirror and inspected her hair. She gave a quick appreciative nod to the dual braids intricately woven with black silk and turned expectantly for instructions.

"The wards allow winnowing out. We can leave as soon as you're ready."

"Let me grab my pack and one more strip of bacon." Gwyn crossed the room for her pack, popped the bacon into her mouth, and held out her hand. "Ready when you are, Commander."

"Clearly."

Like with all the best missions, his contingency plans were utterly unnecessary. Azriel winnowed them into a deserted hall in Tamlin's decrepit mansion near the library. Azriel had been expecting the chaos of overturned tables and ripped tapestries, but there was something else off about this place. To Azriel, there always had been. The formality of the decor made the disorder feel even more disturbing somehow.

"Smells like decay." Gwyn looked around with equal disdain for both the decadence and the destruction.

Spring offered none of Day's organization or surprises. They worked quietly and they found the scroll faster than he had feared thanks nearly entirely to the shadows. Gwyn was getting used to winnowing. They were home by tea.

"Well, don't you two look the pair!" Rhys smirked at them from his seat behind the obnoxiously large desk. "And, Gwyn… that's quite a new look for you."

"I know. I look like a chimney sweep." She deadpanned.

"Is that what he told you?"

"She's Athena fresh from battle, brother. I'm surprised to see you're in one piece." Azriel growled back at the observation. "Very interesting, Az. Very interesting."

"Do you have the documents?"

"Yes." Gwyn answered. Azriel was having difficulty finding his voice all of a sudden.

"Are they similar?"

"Identical." Gwyn continued, but this time she glanced at Azriel with mild concern.

"Did anyone see what you copied, and well, what you stole?"

"No." He was going to need to collect himself before she was seriously alarmed.

"Was anyone injured?"

"No." They answered in unison this time and he managed an offended glare at Rhys.

"So, we will call this mission both discrete and fruitful. Thank you both. I should not have hesitated." He offered a smile to Az confirming that Rhys had never really doubted Gwyn at all. "I'm assuming I can expect full reports sometime tomorrow. Or will you need another day?"

"No." Gwyn's voice was firm.

"No, you don't need another day?"

"No. You cannot expect reports. Not ever." It was Azriel's turn to look at his partner with concern.

What was this about?

Focus. Little Valkyrie has a plan. It is a good one.

"I will turn over the copy that I made in Day, along with all appropriate annotations on the location of the original and the date that the original was viewed and copied. As I would with any of my official work as a scribe. With it, I will turn over the original scroll retrieved from Spring with a provenance befitting an artifact of such import."

"Retrieved? How very diplomatic of you?" Gwyn bristled at his word choice but continued unfazed.

"My name will not appear anywhere near either document. A minor clerical anomaly, which is not uncommon and will raise no alarm. In exchange…"

"Oh, we are bargaining now? I feel like I'm missing something crucial here. Where did this confidence come from, Gwyn?"

"Necessity." She answered with a curt nod and continued her demands. "In exchange for the documents as I have described them today, I ask that you view one of my memories from our trip to Day. Just one. When you have seen it, I will ask you a question. You will answer it directly and truthfully."

"Does it have to do with the prophecy?"

"No. It is personal. I'm asking you this as my friend, not my High Lord. If you were anyone other than exactly you, I would not ask this at all. I'm not interested in the politics of the situation or even in having a long discussion. I need you to know a thing and I need you to answer a question."

"Am I about to witness Az in a very compromising position? Because, if that is the case, I think we really should wait for Cassian. You don't want to cross him on this, I can assure you." Rhys laughed alone. "Okay. Since you didn't even roll your eyes at that and I'm not sure Azriel even heard me speak, I'm guessing this is serious. You have my attention, Gwyneth. And you will have my honesty."

Rhys closed his eyes in preparation. Usually, people followed suit when he entered their minds, but Gwyn kept her eyes trained on his face, a lioness watching from the weeds for any sign of movement.

"Your shields are very good, Gwyneth. Have you trained formally?"

"I'm exceptionally good at compartmentalizing, or so I've been told." The room grew quiet as Rhys began viewing her conversation with Helion. He projected it into Azriel's thoughts as well. Azriel was most impressed with how closely her memory tracked with his own and the emotion on Helion's face that Az had been too shocked to fully register.

She really will be an exceptional spy.

One could argue that she just illustrated that she is already.

Rhys wilted back in his chair when they were done. The look on his face was one that Azriel recognized immediately as genuine amazement, even before the shadows agreed.

"Did you know? Did you send me there because I am his blood?"

"No. And no." Rhys grew pensive. "Although it would make a certain amount of sense… in case the document was warded."

"That's what he said." The brothers shrugged at her exasperated tone. "He also said you didn't know."

"Glad to hear that my brother still has some faith in me. You doubted me though. Do you mind telling me what worried you?"

"You have obligations beyond friendship, important ones, and you haven't told Lucien."

"You're not Lucien. Although, I take your point. Perhaps your bluntness has inspired me because I will add that I'm relieved I didn't know. I might have been tempted. You'd have never forgiven me, and…" Rhy turned to look his brother full in the face. "It would seem that I could have lost a brother in the process."

Azriel could feel Gwyn relax even before she dropped back into one of the chairs they had been standing awkwardly in front of for the whole meeting.

"Thank you both for your service. We can talk about this again later or never. That will be your call, Gwyn. Now... have some supper and find your beds. You both look exhausted."

As they flew, Azriel took in the pleased expression written loud across her face. "You should be very proud of yourself. I know that I am."

"Thank you. I'm proud of you too, Shadowsinger." She smirked into his shoulder.

Azriel saw that smirk again as Gwyn collapsed face-first onto her bed, offering Azriel the perfect view of her stunning ass cupped in black leathers. "Goodnight, Gwyn." He tried a chuckle, but had to shut the door between them quickly without waiting for a response. Azriel knew, even before he reached his bedroom, that he would see that view again as soon he drifted to sleep.

It felt wrong. Sleeping alone in his bed felt wrong. Being alone in his room felt wrong.

Azriel tried the bathroom. It shouldn't feel wrong to be alone there. He ran a bath, only to notice Emina's gift shouting at him from the counter. Shouting to find Gwyn and make her his. It shouted at him to claim the love and future that he felt offered in every moment of trust and intimacy that she had allowed.

Do you even know why you are hiding from her again?

This isn't the same as before.

So you said before. That is an answer to a different question. Do you know why you are hiding from her again?

Azriel slid his back down the nearest bathroom wall and buried his face in his hands. His legs sprawled out before him. It was time.

Out of fear.

Fear of what exactly?

Of reaching for it. Of having it turn to dust in these hands.

Azriel pulled his hands away from his face and studied them. It was as though he was seeing them for the first time, as though they belonged to some other Illyrian bastard.

I cannot look away from her. I cannot walk away from her, but I cannot seem to bring myself to grab for her. To truly try to hold her close.

She can vanish before your eyes as easily as in your hands. Would that be any easier to handle?

Yes. It would.

How so?

I'd rather regret being a coward and mourn what could have been than to ask for a life I was never worthy of in the first place.

Cowardice is the only thing that could make you unworthy. Little Valkyrie will not abide hiding. Be ready when she comes for you.

His head snapped up at the idea and he noticed the bath was nearly full. As he stripped down, the House added the vial of essential oils from Emina. The whole room immediately reminded him of Gwyn's touch.

"Ugh. You guys are the worst.. know that?" Azriel shouted at the ceiling as he stepped into the steaming waters, willing his cock to settle. Out of habit, he found himself pulling on soft undershorts after drying. "I guess I've learned to sleep in clothes, huh?" He crawled across the bed and collapsed onto his front. He was asleep in minutes without bothering with the covers.

Dreaming of Gwyn was not new. He knew this was a dream. It was even one he had dreamt before, many times. Having her scent be this strong around him was new. Having the scent tinged in concern was starting to dampen the mood, but he was almost to the part where she climbs onto his cock. He felt the moan rumble from his chest and heard her breath catch. He heard her. He had heard Gwyn, not in his dream, but in his room.

Azriel sat up and his eyes found hers immediately despite the darkness. She stumbled back a few steps toward the bank of moonlit windows.

"Gwyn?! What are you doing? Are you hurt?"

"Not hurt." She eased almost imperceptibly. "Your shadows found me." It was a question, and one he didn't have an answer to right now. The shadows had retreated to the walls and were oddly silent.

Guilty fuckers.

You can thank us later. Goodbye.

"They've never done that before. I thought maybe you were in trouble. Perhaps a nightmare." Azriel couldn't speak. His voice was trapped somewhere under that moan. He felt his face blush. She caught it even in the low light.

"Oh. A dream then. Very interesting." Gwyn purred at him as she made her way slowly to his armchair near the windows. She lowered herself into the chair gracefully, though she refused to release his pleading stare.

"I suspected as much when I entered your room." She filled her lungs in a long, luxuriating breath and slid one thigh over the other. She truly was a goddess. "This scent is certainly not fear. I'm assuming it was about me then?"

How does she know that?

Ugh. You're really not going to help me right now?

"What makes you say that?" She wasn't wrong, but he was feeling very exposed at that moment. Had he been talking in his dream? What did she hear? She didn't seem horrified. Apparently, she was gonna sit right down and talk about it. Why was she speaking so slowly? Where had this purr been his whole life and would he ever be able to forget the sound of it or the feel on his skin? How could he feel it on his skin from all the way over there? It took him a moment to realize she was speaking again.

"I say that because I think that open communication is going to be very important for whatever this is becoming between us."

What does she want this to become?

"And I guessed it was about me because your shadows seemed to think that you wanted me in here."

Not just the shadows.

"You're not cruel and neither are they."

She thinks you're not cruel. Should I tell her or will you be taking that over for me too?

"So I'm guessing it wasn't Elain you were dreaming about tonight."

"I don't dream about Elain."

It didn't seem like a question, but he had to be sure. Arguing with the shadows was fruitless. They had decided that their work was done and they were giving the pair some privacy. They had never left him alone with a lover before. Although they were not alone exactly and he wasn't sure she was his lover. She was more than that. The shadows had retreated to the walls of his bedroom and it felt like they were somehow facing outward. That was ridiculous. They didn't have faces.

"Anymore." Gwyn clarified. She would not leave him to hide. Not now. Not here.

"Anymore." He agreed and his initial embarrassment was wearing off and in its place was curiosity and relief. She had come for him. She wouldn't let him be afraid anymore.

"Or Mor?"

"Only you. For a long time now, it has only been you." Her smile was pure joy, but something snagged in his mind. "Why were you awake? Do you need me?" His voice rasped at both the idea that she had been troubled without him and at what they were doing tonight.

"Yes." It was a challenge. Gwyn leaned forward hungrily. She uncrossed her legs and spread them slightly before lowering her elbows to her knees. She cocked her head slightly to one side. There was a question in her eyes. She was asking him to play.

"And what theory are we experimenting with now, Priestess?" She chuckled at his confusion.

"No more tests, Az. This is my reward. This was the whole point. So that one day I could enjoy my body with someone I trust. Someone I want, and who wants me. I'd like that to be you."

"What are you offering me exactly, Gwyneth?"

"What do you want, Azriel?"

"Everything."

"Tell me what you mean when you say everything, Shadowsinger."

"Your respect, your time, your heart, your soul, your body, your future. Everything." Azriel looked down at the empty bed around him and slid his hands across the cold sheets around his body. His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I'm tired of making do with less. Just getting by on hope and shame. I want something to look forward to. I want to build something and I want to do it with someone I love, who can love me back. Could that be you?" His eyes meet hers again across the room.

"Yes." She breathed the word like a prayer. Azriel let it wash over him. "So. Tell me about your dream, Az. And I'll tell you if I'm interested in making it come true."

"Gwyn, are you truly not afraid anymore?" He would play with her, but he had to be sure of something first.

"Az, I'm in a male's room in the middle of the night confessing my feelings and asking permission to fuck him until his eyes roll back in his head." She paused as his eyes drifted closed with desire.

"I'm not sure I've ever felt more exposed or more powerful. I think I like it."

Her smile was devilish. So, there were two things he needed to be sure of before he started to play her cat-and-mouse game.

"You said feelings."

"Yes."

"Are you saying you care for me?"

"I'm in love with you. But I think you knew that already, Az. The way I see it, all we don't know is how far we will decide to take this tonight. Do you want that? To explore this, with me?"

"More than anything I've ever wanted before." He heard the rasp in his voice and hoped that it left little doubt about the sincerity of his words.

"Good. Now, tell me something, Az. What was I wearing in this steamy dream of yours?"

"Nothing." Time to play.

"Ah. I see. I would assume that is a good enough place to start."

Gwyn stood from her chair and glided slowly toward the bed. "I'm new at this, remember. You'll need to be patient. Can you do that for me, Az?" She actually winked at him. This female was his dream given form.

Azriel opened his mouth to answer, but she lifted the straps of her gown on sure fingers and let them drop to her elbows and then the floor. The shadows, which had been nearly nonexistent as they floated on the edges of his periphery, formed an impenetrable wall buffering them from the rest of the house. He could hardly breathe.

"What about my hair? Was it up?"

"Down."

Silently, Gwyn reached a sure hand above her head and slid the bindings from her hair. A thick wave of burgundy bounced past her shoulders and fell lightly across one cheek of her delicate face. Azriel slid to the edge of the mattress to place two feet firmly on the floor. He did not rise. He knew where his dream had led. He would offer her his lap and pray that she accepted it.

Azriel noticed her eyes roaming his nearly naked body. Her gaze skimmed across every bit of exposed skin, but she wet her lower lip slightly as they fell on the bulge visible through his thin undershorts. No longer shy, Azriel leaned his chest back to place both hands behind him on the mattress.

Gwyn crawled slowly onto his lap and there was not a trace of fear in her scent. She was enjoying their game. His dream gave her directions to follow, but it was her choice at each step whether or not to follow them.

"Was I on top of you, then? In your dream?"

"Yes."

Gwyn settled slowly and deliberately onto his lap. Placing both palms firmly on his chest, before letting her body melt flush against his own. He noticed her naked breasts rise and fall slightly before his eyes. Her gold medallion nestled between rosy peaks, reminding him that this was not a game.

This was them. This was love.

At the feel of her core pressed against his cock, Azriel finally wrapped an arm tightly around her waist. His arm stayed clamped around her hips, holding her against his erection, as he slid them to the center of the bed. She was staring at his lips and he licked them in anticipation.

"I want your mouth, Az." He was pressing her more firmly against his cock, as he let out a long, steady breath. He lifted his face to hers, offering for her to take what she wanted. Tonight would be that for them. She would take from him what she wanted and he would offer all of himself to her, for her, for them.

Her hands slid around his neck and she moved her breasts closer to his chest. He was looking up at her now and he saw a slight smile before she moved. Their mouths crashed into one another with a hunger born of years of waiting and dreaming.

As his tongue slid into her mouth, Gwyn released a small moan that went straight to his cock. In response, she arched her back, clearly feeling him twitch and throb against her core. She shocked him then by hooking the top of her feet over his legs. With the added leverage, she could use her muscular thighs to drag her core along his length seductively. If this is what it taught her, he would buy her every bit of smut in Velaris. In Prythian. He knew then that he would let her do unspeakable things to him. She was his goddess for all time.

"I need you, Gwyn." He was begging now. If she wanted to stop, he would stop. If she wanted to tease, he would submit.

"You have me, Az." Her voice wrapped around him protectively. Her voice kept the fear at bay. A hand slid down from his neck and into the waistband of his undershorts. He reached to help remove them to find that they were soaked from her arousal. She was ready for him, but he had to warn her.

"It may hurt at first. I really don't want to hurt you."

"I know that. I'm ready." She paused briefly before putting her lips to his ear. "Not having you inside me hurts too." He groaned at her words. "I ache for you, Az. I can't take it anymore." Neither could he, but he had no words.

Azriel reached down between their bodies and grabbed his cock. He slid the tip across to her entrance once. Twice. His forehead collapsed against her shoulder in restraint and relief as he found her soaked and ready to take him.

"In this position, it won't be as bad. I mean, sitting like this you won't have to take my full length. But the size, it may still hurt."

"I'm part nymph, Az."

"I'm quite large, Gwyn." It was his turn to be blunt. "Just take your time, babe. Do what feels good to you. It will all feel good to me. I won't move at all until I can tell that you're used to the feel of me inside you."

Gwyn nodded at the reality of his words. He would be inside her in moments. She reached down to place her hand near his at the base of his cock. He slid both hands over her hips and cupped her ass, ready to lift her back off of his cock if it was too much. One hand slid behind his shoulder, holding his chest close to hers. She moved her other hand along his shaft, exploring his body and his pleasure. He could see her listening to his breath hitch just inches from her face. She could clearly feel it on her mouth, and she was learning what made him feel good. She was a fast learner. He loved that about her.

Gwyn repeated his earlier movement by repeatedly sliding the tip of his cock across her opening until he was fully coated in her arousal. With a deep breath, she pushed the head of his cock inside her with an audible moan that was sheer pleasure and shuttering relief. His hands tightened on her ass, afraid to let her lower herself anymore. He was terrified to hurt her. He knew Gwyn. She'd go too fast. She'd hurt herself to prove she was ready. He started whispering her name slowly, over and over, as he encouraged her to roll her hips back and forth. His voice set a lazy rhythm as she moved to take him deeper inside her body with each pass.

She stopped occasionally to allow her body to adjust to his size. They sat there, in each other's arms, faces pressed together, breathing together, swallowing each other's moans. Once she had taken his entire cock inside her, he knew she needed to relax. She needed to know that she could move and it wouldn't hurt anymore. Az leaned forward and took one of her nipples into his mouth. He sucked gently and rolled his tongue around the peaked bud. He played with it between his teeth, learning what she liked, listening for her response.

Gwyn threw her head back and growled, as she thread her fingers through his hair at the base of his neck holding his face to her breast in demand. He moaned against the soft flesh and felt her start to relax invitingly around his cock. He reached down to thumb her clit slowly matching her earlier tantalizing rhythm. She started to move.

"You feel so good, Gwyn. So fucking perfect. You feel ready." She gave a quick, urgent nod. With his hands still on her hips, he moved with just a suggestion of a thrust up into her. The sound she made was a laugh of victory and joy.

At the confirmation, Azriel collapsed his back against the mattress and Gwyn pitched forward letting her hands fall to his chest. She moved hesitantly before reaching down to her hips. She entwined her fingers into his and pressed their palms together. Gwyn stretched her arms out between them and started to grind herself frantically on his body. His cock hit so deliciously deep inside her. His grip anchored her movements, as she rode him with every bit of passion and desire he had hoped to find in her. It left no doubt behind.

"That's it, Gwyn. Fuck. Take it. I'm all yours."

"I'm so close, Az. Hold me down against you."

At her command, he sat up and wrapped his arms tight around her ribs. He slid his hands up the planes of her back and held her shoulders against his chest and down onto his cock. She liked the pressure. He'd have to remember that. He felt her muscles pulse around him as a ragged cry tore from her lips.

"That's it, babe. Get it all. Feel it all. I've got you." Even as he spoke, he felt the continued waves of her release on his cock. She whimpered and slowed as her walls clenched and released around him.

The feeling was too much. Azriel thrust up into her body and came inside her with the closest he had ever come to an actual howl.

Azriel rocked slightly as he held her damp, limp body against his chest. She had slumped forward into his embrace. She seemed fully and deliciously spent, and his heart swelled with love and pride. He eased them back onto the mattress as he slid out of her. She nestled in the crook of his arm and he peppered her face with tiny kisses.

"I should clean myself." Her words were tender, but he watched her face closely for signs of regret or concern. He could hear the water and smiled when he heard her pee. He was sure that was Nesta's tutelage and he was glad Gwyn had her sisters for support. He was curious how much she had told them. Would they keep this a secret? Would she want anyone to know?

Azriel was touched that she brought back a warm cloth for him and pleasantly surprised when she set about cleaning him with it before bed. He lay there for a long time listening to her breath and feeling her warmth against his side. He wasn't sure if she heard him, but he whispered anyway.

"I didn't know it would feel like that. I just did not know."

Azriel opened his eyes and he knew four things all at once. He was alone. His bed was blanketed in a delicious haze that smelled of Gwyn and sex. The position of the sun told him that it was later than he had ever slept in his long life. He had never been happier.

I may never leave this bed.

Little Valkyrie is in the kitchen. She will not return until she sees you are awake.

Faint hints of her laughter echoed down the stairs and he could hear the sound of a chair being pulled out on the floor above. The prospect of seeing her face was the only thing that could tempt him to rise and dress.

Little Valkyrie has showered. She is not alone.

Does that mean she wants to keep this a secret? Secrets can be hot.

Ask her.

That is assuming she isn't ashamed.

You won't know what she is feeling until you talk to her.

That is not exactly true. I will know the moment I see her face. This is Gwyn. She is an open book.

You should still ask her. Things are more complex than a furtive glance or a blush will tell you. And we will not help you.

Azriel grabbed a fresh towel and made for the bathing chamber. This time when his eyes fell on the box of soy candles, his cock stirred eagerly at the sight. His mind flashed with the now familiar vision of someday pinning Gwyn's naked body between his thighs and listening to her moan as wax trickled in slow rivulets and pooled at the deep curve of her lower back.

That is officially a kink.

I'm fine with that. I might just add a few more before sundown.

The shower was hotter than he had intended and even the steam still smelled of Gwyn. He reluctantly grabbed a stronger-smelling soap. Gwyn was not ashamed of him, but that didn't mean she was comfortable with their friends knowing that she'd had sex for the first time just last night or that it had been with him. She definitely didn't want him broadcasting those details without her permission. Maybe someday he would be able to wear her scent openly. As with the previous night, he would follow her lead in all things.

As he washed, Azriel noticed that his body was slightly sore. Had it been that long since he'd been with a partner? He smiled mischievously at the thought of Gwyn's thighs and tight sex clinching as she rode him. She'd be very sore today. The smile died on his face and his stomach soured at the thought.

Gwyn had been so comfortable the night before and Azriel had been extremely careful to watch for any sign of concern or even a hint of bad memories flooding back to her. It hadn't been an issue, but that didn't mean today would be without a few obvious pitfalls. Would the soreness alone trigger her memories? No. It wasn't the same. He had been very gentle. As with his scent, it should feel entirely new to her and not at all similar to the hate and violence that had been thrust upon her at such a young age. Hopefully, Gwyn would welcome the soreness as a badge of how much she had claimed last night for herself.

Azriel scrubbed harder. He needed to see her face. He needed to be there to ease whatever she might be feeling today. Today and every day for as long as she would have him.

Does that mean you're not concerned about locating your mate?

We don't even know for sure that I have one.

Middle Sister said she knew that you have a mate.

Elain could be mistaken or she could be misleading me.

You've never thought such things of her before.

I'm saying, as far as intelligence goes, it is a flimsy lead. Elain didn't say she had a vision. She doesn't always know how to interpret her visions, and she doesn't want or understand the mating bond.

Middle Sister may understand it better than you. She has one.

Sometimes you guys are just mean. I'm just pointing out that it is not fact. Elain has a lot to unpack for herself and her motivations are not always clear. She keeps so much inside. That and these gifts are a strange business. Half the time, I'm not sure if you guys are real or not.

We are real.

In the human lands, I would be called schizophrenia or split personalities. Maybe you're just versions of myself that I use to insulate my delicate psyche and filter information through so that it feels manageable and I don't go insane.

Which part of your delicate psyche knows that Strong Brother is making bacon?

Easy. I can probably smell it on some subconscious level. Bacon is like that, plus he has bacon every day for breakfast. Anyone could guess that.

Sly brother is having the High Lady for breakfast.

Same rationale. Plus, good for them.

You're feeling generous today.

I am. Tell me something I have no way of knowing and I may admit that you're real.

Little Valkyrie received an identical set of candles although hers have a cedar scent. She tested one on the inside of her wrist before the mission because she knew that if the sensation was not pleasant, she would be doing you more harm than good to try it.

And?

Little Valkyrie found it quite pleasant and arousing.

Very interesting. Though what is more surprising is that I'm capable of goading you into revealing her secrets. I'm very happy with both bits of information, by the way. That is truly solid intel. Me having a mate is not.

Do you still think Middle Sister is capable of lying?

I think that anyone is capable of anything in certain circumstances. All I know is that today I have no mating bond.

You've gone searching on less evidence.

But I don't want to search. If my mate is not Gwyn, I'm not sure I want to find her. I see what my brothers have and I've been so jealous of that. No more. If anything was ever worth rejecting a sacred bond over, it would be what I feel when I'm with Gwyn.

And what if she has a mate?

We can deal with that if it ever comes up. He could be like my father.

In which case?

In which case, I will kill him or anyone who tries to take her without her consent.

And if she gives her consent?

Then I will love her until my last day and be grateful for it.

Azriel dressed in record time, though his mind had lost some of the laser focus that he woke up feeling. Everyone cheered at his fashionably late arrival, but he only had eyes for Gwyn. She was dancing away to the music with a smudge of chocolate icing on the tip of her nose and a dusting of flour down her front. Her head was thrown back in a relaxed laugh that shook her whole body.

She blushed slightly at the sight of him, but a soft smile seemed to thaw that he hoped was just a little morning-after awkwardness. They had an audience after all. His smile turned to a smirk, and she beamed back at him as he found a seat next to Cassian and accepted a drink from Mor. The fact that his glass was mostly champagne with a splash of juice indicated that the party had been going on for some time and that Mor had taken over.

"So what do we have here?" Azriel asked as he took in the spread before him.

"Night. Court. Bake-Off!" The whole room chanted in unison.

Nesta stretched her hands wide in welcome above the display of their sugar-laced debauchery. His notice snagged on a pile of perfectly formed Illyrian hand pies. From the warmth he could smell, they were filled with sweet potato and the traditional spices. Nostalgia sent his appreciative gaze to Emerie. He was not shocked to find her dancing with Mor. The two females shared a charged tenderness between them and he was ashamed that it took him so long to see it.

"Did you just get home?" Cassian inspected Azriel, head to toe. "Is this cashmere, brother?" Cassian pinched appraisingly at the sleeve. "You look so, well… relaxed. Have you taken up yoga or something?" Cassian was now snickering openly.

"I just woke up." Azriel admitted quietly, as Cassian continued to circle him.

Mor's head shot up at that and she glanced at the clock. "… and showered." Mor tugged on a bit of damp hair just behind Azriel's left ear with a discerning eye, just as Cassian stepped to enclose him on the right.

They are going to be insufferable.

You'll live.

Azriel tried to shake them off and took another step toward the breakfast spread, if a counter full of sweets could be considered breakfast.

"Are these for just anybody?" He asked as he lifted a particularly ridiculous-looking cupcake toward his mouth. Nobody would miss this one and it would keep his mouth from getting him into more trouble with his family.

"No!" Gwyn screeched with sincere alarm plastered across her face. "Not that one. Pick something else."

Everyone looked at her rather awkwardly as her face continued to heat. The music played on, but no one spoke. Azriel chucked. Only Gwyn would have her heart set on this monstrosity of a cupcake. He looked back down at it with tenderness and noticed that some of the chocolate drizzle had dripped on him. Azriel shifted the cupcake to the other hand and lifted an icing-coated finger to his lips ready to play.

"Stop!" Now she was frantic. Now she was shouting. "Do not eat any part of that fucking cupcake, Az."

His eyes met hers, but his breath left him at the terror on her face. This was not her claiming her favorite of the reject cupcakes. Azriel looked again at the tray and there were a dozen of identically ridiculously decorated cupcakes. This was her demanding that HE not eat it.

He looked again at Gwyn and took in the smudge of icing on her face and the flour on her clothes. His body froze in suspicion. This was her NOT offering him any of the cupcakes that she had prepared with her own hands.

"Try that tray over there. Eat any of those you want. Emerie is a much better baker than me."

I'm going to fucking kill her.

Probably not.

You seem calm. You knew?! When did you know?

We became aware of Little Valkyrie's discovery when she became aware.

She is going to pay.

Probably not.

"You're saying you made this one here… in my hand?" Azriel's voice was the steady one, pierced through with a preternatural stillness. It was almost always menacing. It commanded absolute attention, and he watched Gwyn flinch.

"Yes." Her mouth released the word on a near-silent breath.

"And you don't want me to eat it?"

"You can't." Her eyes were begging him now, pleading for him to just put down the cupcake and not ask her why.

"Why?"

"Um. No reason?"

"Holy… Shit… Balls." Nesta let out in a punctuated, smug whisper and Gwyn's eyes drifted closed with defeat at the sound of it.

"Gwyn and I are going to need this room." His voice might have sounded calm, but his mind reeled.

"Now."

Mate...Mate...Mate...Mate...Mate.

Calm down.

Mate...Mate...Mate...Mate...Mate.

You are frightening Little Valkyrie.

Good.

You can't mean that.

My mate deserves a little dose of shock right about now. Mates are equal after all. She can join me right where she put me.

Calm down.

You calm down. I've never been more calm in my life. You guys are the ones swarming like insane bees.

Nesta and Emerie were giggling as they escorted the rest of his family of drama queens from the kitchen. Cassian and Mor looked positively shell-shocked, but Nesta winked at him. He tried not to smile. Nesta had guessed. No, not just guessed. She had placed a wager on it with Amren, but that was months ago.

She's going to pay too.

Probably not.

"Maybe she just poisoned them or something like that?" Cassian was nodding to himself, clearly delirious.

Azriel's face softened further as he watched his brother go. Cassian and Rhys had wanted this for him, almost as much as he did himself. They knew what it was to find a mate and they would be over the moon. Assuming the shock wore off eventually. She had been right here all this time. He turned his face back to Gwyn.

"Speak." It was more of a bark, than a word.

"You do not command me in anything, Shadowsinger."

"Fine."

Azriel had been waiting his whole life to meet his match, and Gwyn had always challenged him. She never shrank from him. This just confirmed something that he had wanted to be true for so long. He didn't have to worry about a mating bond ruining his life or hers. Here she was, standing before him and he already loved her. He was going to relish this. Azriel watched Gwyn's eyes track the cupcake as he lifted it directly toward his waiting mouth.

Now, who is the drama queen?

The relishing ended the moment she started to cry. "Az, please." Gwyn's voice was barely a whisper, as though the words were glass in her throat. "I'm not ready."

"When? At least tell me that. When did you know?" Her sadness and fear had cracked something deep inside him. Maybe she thought the bond was ruining her life already.

"You know, you're petty bossy already. Are you sure it hasn't snapped for you? Have we reached the irrational, territorial bullshit already?"

"So, you are confirming a bond?"

"Yes."

"A mating bond?"

"Yes."

"Between us?"

"No. Between me and the cupcake."

Azriel felt his face flame at her tone, but this was his Gwyn and she was on a roll. He saw her nerves, but some of the fear was gone. He wasn't going to get in her way now. "Are you interrogating me now? Is that really the way you want to play this, Shadowsinger?"

"You're not leaving me much choice here, Priestess."

"Horse shit. You're not playing the victim here, Azriel."

"I'm not playing anything, Gwyneth."

"Ugh."

Gwyn threw her hands in the air above her head and started pacing the kitchen. Terror and doubt spread across her face again. He wanted to reach for her then. He wanted to believe that they could figure this out together. If they could just hear each other out, it would all be okay. But he was terrified at what she might say. And then she did the strangest thing.

"Rhys! House of Wind. Kitchen. As soon as is FUCKING convenient."

I really do love it when she curses.

You really do.

Do you think she knows I can't stay mad at her when she gets vulgar?

In this, you are not a mystery.

Wait. Why is she calling her High Lord to a very personal conversation? I just made everyone leave so we can talk, and now she is inviting Rhys? She hardly knows him and he is just going to make this so much worse.

Azriel started to glance around defensively, as Rhys appeared suddenly. Rhys seemed distracted and was standing very close to Gwyn. She took one look at him and started apologizing. None of this was making any sense, but he was pretty sure he wanted Rhys to step away from his mate. Maybe she was right about that territorial bullshit.

"We have a situation here and WE appear to need a mediator." She glared at Azriel.

And by WE she means me, right? Why is she mad at me in this situation?

It has just occurred to our Little Valkyrie that you could decide to reject the bond. She is not thinking very clearly at the moment. Forgive her.

And by she you mean my MATE. I have a MATE and my mate is GWYN.

Perhaps a mediator is a good idea. Also, you should sit.

Rhys studied the room with his usual grace. Azriel noticed the moment his brother's eyes fell on the ridiculous cupcake still poised near Azriel's mouth. Azriel was about to start with what would surely be a lengthy explanation when Rhys chuckled.

"Ah, well. That was one way to do it, I guess." Rhys started to laugh even louder as he took a closer look. "Is the chocolate bat on top supposed to be Az? The likeness is…"

"It is a pegasus." Her voice was flat. Why was she so calm all of sudden?

"Really?" Rhys frowned. "Gwyn, I have to ask. Have you ever actually seen a pegasus before?"

Rhys seemed pleased at his own joke. His brother grabbed the offending cupcake and took a hesitant bite. The room then echoed with an overly dramatic moan of pure delight.

I'm surrounded by drama queens. Why is he even here?

Little Valkyrie needs him here.

Why the fuck does she need her High Lord? I'm so confused. This isn't some legal dispute. At least, I hope not.

"I take it all back. That was actually delicious. Problem solved." Rhys dusted the crumbs off of his hands in satisfaction.

"Respectfully, you're a real ass, you know that." Gwyn spoke again. Azriel just rolled his eyes. It was nice to see her relaxed at least.

"He knows, Gwyn. He enjoys being an ass." It was the first civil word he had said since finding out they were mates. "Wait, he knows? About the mating bond? You told him before you told me?!"

"I told you he wasn't gonna like that part, Gwyneth."

"He doesn't seem to be liking any part of this morning," She narrowed her eyes at Azriel. "And now you're just being a snot. Not helpful, Rhysand." Her voice was still very calm, but Azriel noticed her hands starting to shake slightly.

"How many of these cupcakes did you make? Do I have to eat them all to keep them away from Az?"

"Still. Not. Helpful." Gwyn's voice had taken on a pleading quality that even Rhys noticed.

"My apologies, Priestess. How may I be of service?" Rhys attempted a small comic curtsy that seemed to push Gwyn even further over the edge.

"I'm starting to think that you can't." The tears in her voice stilled both males.

"I'm sorry, Gwyn. I know how important this is and I shouldn't have teased you. Either of you."

Rhys reached over and wrapped an arm around her affectionately and gave an apologetic nod to his brother. Rhys couldn't help them. Azriel needed to get back into this conversation. He and Gwyn would find a way through this. He just needed to remind her that he had no defense when it came to her. That there was nothing between them that could not be weathered.

"Now I'm starting to think that we are all fortunate that the bond hasn't snapped for me yet. I might find this endearing little display relatively rage-inducing. I'd hate to have to murder my brother, before ever having the chance to enjoy being fully mated." Azriel finally let himself smile at her.

Come on, Gwyn. Play with me. It is just me, babe. It is just me. I could never reject you.

You do know that you're talking to us.

Shut up.

Something in her exchange with Rhys had calmed them, but Gwyn still looked confused. Had she heard what he couldn't yet say? She took her first relaxed breath since this whole issue started, and he saw what looked like gratitude on her face.

"Can you tell me how long you've known?" Azriel tried again. This time his voice was soothing and encouraging. Maybe Rhys was helping, which was immensely annoying. "It feels important to me. I want to know how much of our friendship.." He glanced at Rhys. She had called him here, but what did she want her High Lord to know about their sex life? "I guess I'm trying to understand your recent motivations, as they apply… well, to me."

"Can I tell you that part when we are alone?" There was that answer.

"She wouldn't tell me either, and I did ask. Repeatedly. Now, I think I can guess why, you sneaky bastard." Rhys seemed to take in her blush but chose to ignore her glare. "I must admit that I'm more curious than ever, now." Rhys bent forward, elbows on the counter and chin in hand expectantly.

"Don't be a pervert."

"Need I remind you that I am your High Lord and should be afforded some respect?"

"And is it under the High Lord's vast purview to arbitrate between squabbling mates?"

"Not generally, no. First time." He winked.

Gwyn said mates.

Focus. You're missing the whole point.

Gwyn is the whole point of my long life. I'm not missing anything.

You really are.

"Then you're not here in your capacity as High Lord and instead as his trusted brother and my dear friend, so quit your bullshit and start friending."

Dear friend? Since when is Rhys her dear friend?

It does appear to be true. She is like...

His little sister. I haven't seen him like this for a long time.

He loves her. She is good for him.

"Friending is not a word."

"Rein it in. Not about you, Rhys."

There she is. There is my Valkyrie. Give him hell. Better him than me.

"He's your sponsor. Isn't he?" Azriel felt his face break into a grin watching his brother and his mate go head to head in the kitchen over him. But, why does she need him here now? What is it that she doesn't want to tell me alone?

"Are you disappointed? Is that why you didn't tell me?" He had no breath to give the words and he wasn't even sure anyone had heard him until she took his face in her hands.

"I hope you know me better than that, Az. I love you. I know you have your own traumas. Including the night we met. Don't deny it. Taking a life has a cost and you pay it for all of us. For our safety. I know you still have nightmares where you see me on that table."

Azriel wasn't going to hide from her. He would not deny her the truth. She continued. "I have nightmares from that night and not all of them are mine."

Azriel's eyes flew to his brothers. Rhys nodded just once in confirmation. He thought back to his dreams and took a deep breath before speaking.

"I've dreamt of swimming. The ocean. It has always calmed me when the weight of the world is crushing down on my chest. I can just float for hours in my sleep." He heard his voice crack with emotion, but his eyes had drifted closed.

They had been in each other's minds for years. She had brought him peace long before they had even met. He wouldn't tell her how many times he had been on that table in his sleep. So, maybe there was one truth he would deny her, spare her, at last for now.

Has it been the bond all along? Was this why she's been pushing herself so hard? Was this the reason behind the experiments? I thought we were doing this for her. I thought she wanted this for her. Oh, baby. My sweet Gwyn, say you didn't do this all for me.

Just listen to her.

"I've always felt connected to you. I thought it was our shared trauma, but then you told me about your past and you let me help you. Weirdly, I think that was what I needed to be able to see the bond for what it was. I needed to understand that I had something to offer you in return. Mates are equals and I never felt like I was your equal until that day."

She didn't know when we started. It was for her. She was brave for her.

Yes.

And it wasn't the sex that triggered the bond for her. She knew before last night.

Yes.

Why hasn't it snapped for me then? Why haven't I been aware of it?

Only you can answer that.

"The day before our mission, right?" Azriel felt his face flush and he looked down at his hands with affection for the first time in his life. He swore he could smell sweet orange on them still.

"I had no plan to tell you. I've tried to ignore it. Let things progress naturally."

"Are you afraid of me, Gwyn?" Azriel had to know. She and Rhys were doing some ridiculous pantomime, but Azriel couldn't bring himself to care. He had to know that she was not afraid of him.

"No. I'm not afraid of you. And I'm sorry if I seem impatient, but we have worked so hard to build our trust over this past year."

"And that may seem like a long time to you and I do trust you, truly." She gave him a moment to gather his thoughts and he took it. "I guess I just don't understand why Rhys is here then."

Azriel held up a hand to stop her from interjecting. "I get why you told him and I'm so touched to see your friendship, but why did you call for him today? Why can't you just talk to me, if you're not afraid?"

"I didn't say I'm not afraid. I'm terrified!"

"Just not of you, well, not exactly. Not in the way you mean."

It was Azriel's turn to look toward his brother for support, but Rhys just started the weird, pantomime thing. Azriel looked back to Gwyn, after a thorough eye roll for his brother.

"Can you be more specific?"

"The frenzy, dipshit." Gwyn covered her mouth at her own words, eyes wide in disbelief at her inability to hold her tongue.

I guess pet names are back on the table.

They would be funnier if insults didn't give you a raging hard-on.

"Manners, Priestess."

"I have impeccable manners, sir… when appropriately inspired." Gwyn took the opportunity to return his brother's curtsy from earlier. Hers was even more impressively mocking.

"Then they aren't manners, but I digress. We can debate that later. Tell him what you're afraid of. He will understand. You've practiced this. You can do it."

"You've practiced this"… they've practiced this? When did she have time to practice this? We were leaving for Velaris. On her very first mission and she still practiced how to tell me she's terrified that we are mates… with Rhys of all people?

She actually said she had no intention of telling you. When she speaks, believe her.

So she practiced telling me that having a mate terrifies her, should the bond ever snap for me.

Better. And it will.

It should have by now.

It will.

Gwyn took another deep breath before squaring her shoulders and widening her stance. It was the same way she'd stepped up to each new challenge Az had set before her in the training ring. Something about that comforted him and something about it broke his damn heart. If anything could have ever been easy for her, he wished it had been this.

"I'm afraid of the frenzy." She visibly swallowed the lump that had settled in her throat. "I have made amazing strides with my recovery. Well…"

A familiar blush started just under the outside of her cheekbone. It was a slight reddening where her jaw curved up to meet the line of her delicate ears. Azriel had learned to watch for it, specifically when he'd caught her reading smut alone in one of the libraries. Usually, she'd feel his eyes settle there and subconsciously stick a strand of hair behind her ear. As she did just that, Azriel couldn't stop his smile. His favorite part was knowing that he'd caught the color just starting and he'd watch the heat bloom across her beautiful face.

"… we have made amazing strides. Together. With each other. Especially very recently."

Rhys perked up at her admission. No way his brother knew Gwyn the way Azriel did, not this side of her at least. But, Rhys could smell blood in the water as well as any shark. Azriel glared, and Gwyn continued.

"Anyway." Another harsh swallow. "I know that there are times when you have shown great, personal restraint, where I am concerned. To maintain my comfort, physically." Az nodded and immediately remembered the feel of Gwyn's amazing ass pressing back against his erection as he awoke in the cabin. The slight scent of his arousal started to settle into hints of her own and their eyes met. Neither could look away.

Rhys coughed delicately. To his credit, Rhys had not even tried to use his daemati powers to privately heckle his brother. The fact that Rhys understood that this conversation was too important for that, spoke volumes about his connection to Gwyn. Azriel noticed Rhys wasn't missing a word or a scent though, and he wasn't leaving. Damn busybody.

"See! We can't control it. And that was before you knew that I am your mate."

"You think I won't be able to control myself." It wasn't a question. Azriel was starting to understand and share her dilemma. He had no idea what they could face if a mating bond ever snapped for him. Gwyn may never be ready to accept it and face a mating frenzy. Azriel could never risk all the ways that could go so wrong.

What if she'd tie me up?!

For multiple weeks? Perhaps a month?

Probably at least a month, just to be safe. I could get her a whip.

Is she a lion tamer now?

A cattle prod?

Do not speak. Whatever you do, do not speak near our Little Valkyrie until you have regained your sanity.

"Who knows what will happen?! You can't know how we will respond." Gwyn sounded relieved though. Two of her words struck him immediately.

She said WE. She is worried about her response to the frenzy.

Yes.

Not just my response to the magic. Hers too. She's afraid it could turn her into one of those nymphomaniacs from legend.

Yes.

Like her flashbacks, she would not be in control of her body.

Yes.

It could undermine all of her hard work. She would be in the throes of it as well. That it could unlock her nymph heritage. She's afraid it could change how people see her.

Yes.

She's right to worry. She has fire. She has been purposefully very controlled so far, but I see it. Her intensity could set the world ablaze.

Exactly so.

If she panicked, the bond would protect her from physical harm. A male is unable to force himself on his mate, as I understand it. Even my father had others beat my mother. If Gwyn became upset, the need to protect would override all other physical impulses. It could offer her some protection from other males as well, at least from those most sensitive to such traditions, like the Illyrians in the camps. She could be safer there if they can smell it on her. I could offer her that much, at least.

She said something else as well. Something you haven't let yourself say even to us.

"What WILL happen? How we WILL respond?" Azriel smirked at her admission. She was talking as though it was a given that they would accept the bond someday.

"You know what I mean." She responded flatly, but she returned his smirk.

"No. I don't. What exactly are you imagining, Priestess? Explain it to me… slowly. Leave nothing out."

She's not imagining cattle prods. We can tell you that much.

Focus. I'm trying to listen to my mate.

There will be no living with you now.

Rhys just groaned from across the kitchen. Azriel had been marking his retreat during the entire conversation. His brother was now hovering over by the bank of windows. Azriel knew he would make his exit soon.

Where are the others?

Lady Death has assembled them in her library. The High Lady joined them some time ago, out of concern. She has been told. She is drinking champagne. The High Lady just snorted.

Why is she laughing?

Strong Brother and Her Mistress Morrigan are fighting over naming rights to your hoard of redheaded babies. None of the suggestions so far have been even remotely appropriate. Lady Death is growing annoyed. She's debating asking the House to bring the tray of sweets but won't risk upsetting Our Mate.

See it done. Quietly though, and leave some here for Gwyn.

It is done.

Is Mor okay with finding out that Gwyn is my mate?

Why wouldn't she be okay? She never wanted you.

Ouch. I mean, I don't care anymore, but that doesn't mean you have to be rude. She could just be protective or something.

Do you need protection against Our Mate?

Of course, I do.

Her Mistress Morrigan saves her concern for Lady Death and the Middle Sister. She does not trust them yet and fears others do so too easily.

I would say that Nesta has more than earned the Night Court's trust.

With the safety of the Night Court? Yes. With the hearts of her dearest family? Perhaps not yet.

But she's not concerned about Gwyn?

Her Mistress Morrigan knows that you are even slower to trust than she is. Plus, Our Mate's heart is visible from any distance.

You keep saying Her Mistress Morrigan. Does that mean Emerie is still with them?

Yes. Though, regardless of location, she is hers. Now and always.

Do you mean… ?

Yes. They are still unaware, but traces of the bond have started to emerge. It will not be long now.

Shit.

Her Mistress Morrigan is also hungover. She is starting to sweat through her red silk.

Are we back to this now? You're flooding me with information again. You're letting me get off track

We are unchanged. You are listening again. Get control of your mind. Our Mate is speaking.

"AND, before, when I knew that you didn't know, I could just pretend I didn't know too, but I think that now that I know that you know and that you know that I know… well, that could get intense. Will get intense. Someday. That isn't today. But also isn't never." Azriel just threw his head back and laughed.

"This is really happening!?" Azriel croaked, glancing between his mate and his brother.

"Yes." Gwyn beamed.

"And Rhys is here as what? Our very own chaperone?" Azriel knew he was about to cry.

"Yes, of sorts, I guess so." Gwyn laughed as her tears joined his own.

"So what do we do now? Nothing?" Azriel asked gently.

"Can we just do what we were doing before?"

"Which part was your favorite, sugar?"

"I'm feeling less like a chaperone, and more like a referee. Is that how you felt with Cassian and Nesta?" Rhys asked, apparently willing to ignore the thick smell of arousal.

"Not really. I just ignored them. I didn't do much actually. Feel free to do the same, brother." Azriel raised one brow at Rhys, who just smiled back. The scent of arousal brought his mind back to the night's activities. Sitting in a sunlit kitchen cast the events in a new stark reality.

I should get some contraceptive tea for Gwyn. We didn't even talk about that.

Our Mate drank her tea this morning.

How? Has she been planning this for some time then?

Lady Death prepared it for her. Unbidden and surreptitiously. The empty cup remains in the sink.

I see one cup. That could be Nesta's. Were you watching her when she drank?

It has traces of her lips on the rim. Lady Death did not drink a tea today. We are always watching.

Interesting. I assume Cassian knows that she has stopped drinking the tea.

It was discussed.

I guess that timing makes sense. Nesta didn't find any hint of danger from Merril, and nothing in this life is guaranteed.

Focus. Sly Brother is leaving.

"Is my work here done, Priestess?" Rhys asked carefully.

"I think we can take it from here. Thank you."

"Then I will return to my lady and just say congrats, you two crazy kids." Azriel nodded to his brother, but his eyes never strayed from Gwyn's. He watched his mate for a long moment before he spoke tenderly.

"Can I hold you now?"

"Please do."

Azriel reached for her hand and tugged her between his knees. Her hands found their way to his shoulders. Even seated on the stool, Azriel was slightly taller than Gwyn and his hands settled naturally onto her hips. She buried her face into his chest like they had been doing that for centuries.

"I saw her in your eyes long before I saw her in the mirror." Her voice was small again and muffled by his shirt. "Is that a weakness?"

"Maybe. But if you and Rhys have taught me anything. And you have." Azriel leaned his head back to encourage her to look up into his face as he finished. "It's that the goal isn't to rid yourself of all weakness. It's just to not let them keep you from dreaming. And I'm dreaming now, Gwyn."

"Finally." She tucked back into his chest and he felt her smile against him before she continued. "We both are."

Azriel was determined not to frighten her and he tried to get control of his arousal from a few moments ago. He noted that she didn't seem uncomfortable with his touch or regretful in any way. She didn't say she was afraid of sex altogether or that the concept of the frenzy disgusted her. From her smiles, playful eye rolls, and encouraging words for Nesta and Cassian over the past year, he had assumed a certain fondness, if not the full jealousy that Azriel had harbored, for the mated pair. But, how much did she really know about mating bonds? They were not that common and particularly rare amongst the priestesses given to serve the Mother.

"Gwyn, you do know it doesn't actually work that way, right?"

"What do you mean, Shadowsinger?"

"The cupcake, dearest. The one with the bat on it."

"Pegasus."

"Sure thing." He smiled at her. "As I was saying, whatever you intended that creature to be, you were clearly not intending to feed it to me in acceptance of the bond. You never offered it to me. Actually, you very clearly forbade me from eating it. You screamed. Very loudly. You were adamant." A little teasing couldn't hurt. Gwyn narrowed her eyes, clearly noting the amusement in his voice.

"And, the bond hasn't snapped for me, so I'm not sure it can be accepted at this point."

"I didn't think so, but then I wasn't sure what would happen if you ate it. I just freaked."

"Caution is commendable. Freaking is understandable, under the circumstances." Azriel should probably stop brushing slow circles across her hip. It was making words difficult to locate.

Gwyn kept her eyes safely trained on his chin and her hand tugged at the sleeve of her robes. It was a nervous habit he had noted some time ago.

"Plus, I thought maybe something could have changed last night."

"A lot DID change last night, Gwyn. Of course, it did."

"You said you didn't know it would feel like that. I thought you could have meant the bond."

"Oh." Shit. She sounded so hopeful. "No. It hasn't snapped for me."

We are completely sure that there is an actual bond, yes?

Yes. It is visible to those who can see such things.

Who else can see… Helion?!

Exactly so.

That's what Gwyn didn't want him to say out loud in the atrium. He knew then that I am mated to his fucking granddaughter.

Exactly so. The High Lord of Day is exceedingly amused. He would also enjoy your eloquence.

It is a good thing I never slept with him.

Azriel reached for her hands and clasped them between both of his own. As he ducked his head to meet her eyes, he gave her a shy smile. "I meant the sex, babe. It was truly fucking amazing."

"You've had sex before, Az."

"Not with you I haven't."

Azriel knew what she would see when she looked at him. He couldn't help it. His voice had been husky with lust and need and he could feel her body melting into his in basic physical acceptance. Her arousal was obvious all around them. Azriel became acutely aware of the clear expanse of counter behind Gwyn. He could picture it perfectly. He'd kneel before his mate with her ass perched at the very edge. She'd bend her legs over his shoulders and dig the heels of her bare feet into his back, or along his wings, as he'd bury his face in her sex.

Cassian chose that moment to hurry into the kitchen, without any trace of his earlier cheer. "We are needed." His tone was clipped and his eyes met Azriel's over Gwyn's shoulder. "Beron is an asshole. I suggest a light jacket and an assload of weapons."

Azriel rose from his stool with a gentle kiss on top of Gwyn's forehead. "I hate Autumn" was all the words he could offer her, as he started a mental inventory of his arsenal.

It took him fifteen minutes to pick his weapons, and he was surprised to find Rhysand when he met Cassian on the roof. "Are you coming with us old man? I'd say this is well below your pay grade."

"I'll stay here. Beron is starting something along the border. Scout it out. Engage if you must, but find out what this is all about." As Rhys spoke, Cassian was staring at Azriel. He'd obviously received the same instructions, and some of his cheer was returning.

"What?" Azriel barked into his brother's stare.

"I shouldn't be so shocked, but I just am. Gwynie is good for you. Similar enough in the ways that matter, so she gets you when nobody else does. Different enough to get you out of your head. Like me and Nes." The comparison melted something in Az.

"I don't need Cassian. He can stay here and write poetry about my mating ceremony. Let me go on my own."

"Gwyn will eviscerate me if anything ever happens to you."

"And Nesta will bake you a cake? Plus, Cassian and Mor are busy naming all my children apparently. He doesn't have time for Beron."

"Snoop." Cassian grumbled.

"Spy." Azriel corrected.

"He should have plenty of time for that. Gwyn is still very young and there could be complications, Az. You need to be careful when the time comes." Rhys glanced away, as a gloom aged his features by at least a century.

"Don't worry. Gwyn and I are in no rush. And I know Nesta is willing to share her tea when necessary." Azriel chanced a look at Cassian, who gave an almost imperceptible head shake while still studying his shoes. So, he didn't want to talk about it with Rhys, or Nesta didn't want to talk about it with Rhys, which amounted to the same thing. "Anyway. Gwyn is a quarter nymph. Pliable bones."

"Oh, you don't say? Tell us more about her pliable bones, brother." Rhys leaned in conspiratorially as he spoke.

"Careful. You're talking about my mate!"

"If you want to say it again, nobody here would blame you, brother." Cassian clapped his massive paw on Azriel's shoulder.

"You're talking about my mate."

The training ring was pitch black and deserted. Azriel was immediately disappointed, though thankful that nobody had witnessed his graceless landing and that hopefully Gwyn had found her bed hours ago. He had been picturing it, as the days stretched into weeks. She would have tea with Nesta in the library, curled up on one corner of the sofa with her book. They'd be squealing and snorting at some passage. Gwyn would blush and bury her face into the folds of a soft throw across her lap and her feet under Nesta for warmth.

The images and sounds were easy to conjure. He'd seen peeks from the doorway a dozen times and his heart swelled every time. Along with the shadows, they had been his constant companion these weeks. Azriel had silently walked or flown every inch of the Autumn Court's borders. The increase in activity didn't make any sense to him or to Rhys. Quiet villages seemed to be bustling with new activity, while the common ports felt staged and hollow. He'd expected by now that they would either have justification for declaring war or proof that the rumors were baseless. They had neither.

When Azriel didn't find troop movement, he'd just meant to poke around for a day or two and then return to Gwyn. One thought stuck in his mind. Helion may have tried to get word to his mate about Gwyn, their newfound granddaughter. If he had inadvertently alerted a sadist like Beron to her existence and her importance to multiple courts and Beron's favorite victim, he would know the truth. That dread drove him farther and farther from home and from his mate.

Tucked in with the knives, throwing stars, and extra bandages, Azriel had packed a small leather-bound book. Gwyn had left it in a small stack on his desk one day after training. In hindsight, he wondered if what she had found in those books had motivated their trip to Emina's. The memory always made him smile. If she had found merit in them, he would trust her judgment. Azriel had skimmed them all but kept going back to a particular collection of essays. While not testimonials exactly, each essay tracked the story of an individual Fae in the process of reconciling intense childhood trauma. The healer who compiled the stories offered observations and suggestions for ways to apply the lessons more generally. Azriel found the notes pleasantly direct and uncomfortably insightful. It made him grateful for the time alone.

Azriel had always enjoyed reading. His personality fell somewhere between Rhys and Cassian on the spectrum of sheer cunning to brute force. However, the idea that finding his mate had sent him into weeks of research and personal introspection, instead of obnoxious displays of territoriality and male possessiveness, struck him as entirely Gwyn's influence and amusing as hell.

Rhys seemed to agree during their mental check-ins, which had become more regular than any prior trip he could recall. Through his words of encouragement, Azriel could feel his brother's relief, relief for both Azriel's budding relationship with his mate and his renewed closeness with Rhys. His amusement dampened slightly when he confirmed that he would continue to function as Gwyn's sponsor and had seen her quite regularly during Azriel's extended absence. He refused to share any details that Gwyn herself provided during her sessions, but he did say that she had not asked after Azriel or his mission. Azriel could infer that Gwyn was still processing their mating bond and all of the implications it could have on her sense of safety and self.

"My conversations with Cassian are not confidential, so I feel comfortable mentioning that he thinks that Gwyn has not ventured into Velaris with anyone while you've been gone. If he says as much to you, trust that he is incorrect. She has been to the River House numerous times to meet with me and another destination at least once."

"Emina."

"I didn't say that, you did. He may mention that he thinks she slept a few nights back in the dorm, which is what encouraged him to bring his concerns to me. He is correct. Though, if I tell you not to worry about it, will that stop you?"

"Probably not, but I appreciate the effort."

"Then ask her about it. Her answer should appease even you."

"Thanks for looking after her."

"I would look after my brother's mate, regardless of who she turned out to be. But, before she was your mate, she was my friend. And before she was my friend, she was my charge. I do it for her, for my healing, and because she is an asset to my court."

"That's fair."

"There was a time when I thought she would leave that life behind completely."

"It is not so simple, Rhys. You know that."

Gwyn had always made him feel seen. Though, she never made him feel uncomfortably exposed. She made him feel accepted, without making it feel like pity. That balance had been obvious to him for a long time, and it was becoming quite clear to those around them. It didn't shock him anymore. What shocked him was the fact that Gwyn thought he deserved more, deserved better than the life for which he had settled long ago. That still floored him. She thought he deserved HER. Azriel had made his vow into the wind high above a sleeping Velaris and to any creature capable of hearing such things. He vowed to return the favor tenfold. He would show her his heart and the full scope of the honor she bestowed on him.

As he neared her door, Azriel allowed his footsteps to sound gently along the marble floor. His shadows swarmed the door in delight. Azriel knew she was awake inside and he didn't want his knock to startle her. His hand halted mid-strike as her low voice drifted across his mind.

"I am the rock against which the surf crashes."

"I am Valkyrie. I am not broken. Nothing can break me."

"I am the rock against which the surf crashes."

Our Mate has retrieved your dagger from under her pillow. She is afraid. We have made her afraid.

Shit. Help her. Let her see you. If she can see you, she will calm. She likes you.

It is done. Our Mate is calming.

Good.

We like her too. She is pretending to sleep.

Not good.

She is ashamed. She wants to be alone. She is not ready for an audience.

I am not an audience.

You are. Tonight, you are perhaps the only one that truly matters.

Are you sure that she doesn't need me?

We are sure.

So, I just do what? Sleep?

You could read from your little book. It seems to calm you. You could train. We suggest a bath and sleep. Whatever you do, you leave her be. There is time. You've taken your time. Let her take hers.

Cassian shuffled into the kitchen and grumbled an earlier-than-usual hello the following morning. Azriel had been too excited to sleep and was just finishing a quick breakfast over the sink.

"You're back." Cassian sighed. "Thank fuck."

"Were you worried about me, brother?"

"Not in the slightest." Cassian rubbed a hand lazily across his own chest. "Rhys made sure to keep us updated." His brother shot him a knowing smirk. "But, maybe now we can get back some semblance of order around here. You'll be at training, right? Say you will be at training." It wasn't like his brother to beg, at least not with people who were not Nesta.

"I'm briefing Rhys at the River House in a few minutes, but I should make it back in time. Why? What's going on?"

"You cannot leave me with these females for another day. They are not nice people, Az."

"Gwyn is nice."

"Maybe alone. Maybe with you, but put the three of them together and then turn your back to help one of the new recruits…BAM."

"They're walking all over you, aren't they?"

"Yeah. It's pretty pathetic actually. I tried to appeal to their love for competition. I even bought a shiny, new trophy."

"That was a good call. That HAD to work."

"Nope. Now, they've started sabotaging each other. Half the equipment up there is either glued down, greased up, or sawed in half." Azriel choked on his coffee and Cassian took the opportunity to peer over the lip of his cup. "That's why I'm up so early. I have to replace the damn equipment daily."

"I'll do what I can. I can promise to try, but I can't say they are any more afraid of me."

"So." Cassian leaned back against the counter with a gleam in his eye. "What happened to your special tea?"

"Oh." Azriel attempted a half-shrug but knew it looked forced. "The House gave me coffee today. Maybe I'm done with the tea." Azriel felt a blush rise to his cheeks and Cassian chucked before pouring himself a massive mug from the carafe.

"Good for her. And you, obviously." He waved a massive paw generally in the direction of Azriel's body.

"Speaking of tea. You know I wasn't trying to snoop. I didn't ask them. I hope you know that."

"I do. Of course, I do. The sentinel on the wall doesn't get to pick what he sees. You give us the privacy you can and you keep us safe. I know that." Cassian pulled his hair up into a quick knot on the top of his head, the leather tie secured between his teeth. "And so does Nesta. She was going to tell you anyway, bestie." Cassian rolled his eyes.

His brother teased, but Azriel felt it too. The newfound camaraderie in the House had been a welcome change from the tension that had plagued the Inner Circle for the past few years.

"You're gonna be great at it. I hope you know that too. If it... WHEN it happens, you'll do great."

"So will you." Azriel sputtered again on his coffee. Cassian beamed at having flustered him. "So. Have you seen her then?"

"Not yet. It was late." The silence held a hint of awkwardness, but Az knew Cassian wouldn't push for more than was offered.

"I bet she crashed. She's been going extra hard at training." Seeing the worry on Azriel's face, he continued quickly. "She's good though. Fine, I mean. She seems a little nervous is all. She'll be glad you're back, I bet."

"I hope so. It was a lot and then I was gone."

"She'll be glad, Az. She really will."

***

Azriel busied himself by checking the training swords for boobytraps that Cassian might have missed. He only found one. He checked them once more, then again just for luck. His meeting with Rhys had been shockingly short and Azriel found himself with time to spare before training. The time was less than helpful.

Can Fae have heart attacks or is that just a human thing? I think you should summon a healer.

You're not having a heart attack. It is just nerves. You're just nervous.

I'm SpyMaster of the Night Court. I'm THE Shadowsinger. I don't get nervous.

And yet, here we are. You're worried that the weeks apart have changed her mind. That she no longer wants you. That she regrets bedding you.

My hands are now sweating. Why are my hands sweating?

"Welcome back, Shadowsinger."

Just once, can you warn me of her presence?

We could.

But, you won't.

Gwyn beamed at him across the training ring. "Good morning, Valkyrie." He gave her a quick nod that reeked of nerves.

Azriel drank in the sight of his mate. She was easily the most gorgeous female he'd ever seen. Her steps were hesitant and her eyes spanned the small, but growing, crowd. She is not ready for an audience. Their words from the night before floated through his mind. She looked tired and anxious but relieved to see him. She strode just past him to the weapons rack and he fell in beside her in what he hoped was a companionable distance. She was watching him closely. She was holding out two identical daggers for closer inspection, but her eyes scanned the length of him. He felt the smirk tug against one of his cheeks.

At the sight, she sighed and leaned in toward his chest with a coy smile. She finally looked down at the daggers she had been holding, but her whisper was entirely for his benefit. "Is it just me or is acting natural actually the most unnatural thing one can attempt in real life?"

"You're just too honest to bother with the performance, dearest. It is commendable and my second favorite thing about you." He hadn't meant to place his lips quite so close to her ear. Given the delightful way she shuddered and her eyes fluttered, he wasn't remotely sorry.

"Do I even want to know what your first favorite thing is?" She looked at him from the corner of her eye and chewed lightly on her bottom lip. It occurred to him then that she could be actively trying to kill him with sexual tension. He had to lighten the mood or they'd quickly have more of an audience than either was comfortable with today.

"Easy. That Berdara audacity. You're willing to take a risk." He pointed at his own grinning face.

"And you don't hesitate to tell your High Lord to suck it."

"I never said that, but I take your point. I am pretty amazing." She turned from the weapons rack and aimed straight for the nearest mat. Azriel heard the laughter in her tone, but someday he would see to it that she understood the truth in her words. Azriel followed a few steps behind her, trying to keep his eyes from her form.

"In fact, I have no qualms about handing my mate his own ass on this, his very first day back to training in weeks." Azriel wasn't sure if it was her bravado or her use of the term mate, but he had an overwhelming desire to pin her sweaty, leather-clad body to the mat.

"Let's go, Shadowsinger. Show me what you learned in Autumn."

"I can make you a mean pumpkin spice latte." He had control, he could keep this light.

"Make it maple cinnamon and I'll be putty in your hands." And just like that, Azriel pictured pinning her sweaty, naked body to the mat.

"Just say when." The darkness in his voice should have shocked him, but it didn't.

"Maybe after the event at the River House tonight, Shadowsinger?"

"What event at the River House tonight?" Azriel heard himself groan like a petulant child.

"Some delegation is in town. Rhys announced it while you were gone. Nesta and Emerie already helped me pick out a new dress. We are all expected to attend."

"Ah! A silver lining." Gwyn smiled mischievously at his words. When she spoke again, Azriel knew why.

"The dress is green silk and I don't remember it having any lining whatsoever." Gwyn smirked and crouched down into a fighting stance. Her eyes flashed, and she beckoned him forward with two taunting fingers.

That settles it. My mate is actively trying to kill me.

You'll die happy.

The first thing Azriel noticed was that her copper hair fell in sheets down her back. His hands twitched at the memory of the way it felt in his fist. Her hair was always tied back when they sparred. That afternoon, even just the tip of her braid, swiping temptingly across his forearm pinning her into the mat, had been enough contact to send chills down his spine.

Gwyn's training was progressing rapidly. He'd been tempted to let her pin him, just to feel her thighs spread across his hips or perhaps her chest pressed into his own. In the end, Azriel knew she'd consider it a professional insult, at best. At worst, she'd find it a personal breach of their newfound privacy. He'd managed to keep his grabs technical and his small liberties extremely discreet. Gwyn's knowing glances proved she missed nothing. They had parted ways with a shy smile and a plan to fly down to the River House together later that night.

"Does this mean that my favorite Priestess is ready for her big debut?" Gwyn smiled as she turned at the sound of his greeting. His lips parted, though no sound passed between them. His breath had caught somewhere deep in his chest at the mere sight of her. Even the shadows seemed momentarily stunned.

Her body was draped in a silk of the darkest green, just short of utter blackness. The tone was warm and hinted of riverbank moss and the temptation to nap in dappled sunlight and softness. It rippled in long waves as she stepped forward slightly to greet him. The sleeves were full and her dress grazed along the floor at her feet. The sheer expanse of fabric made the voids all the more startling.

The neckline plunged deep toward her navel, exposing her golden breastbone. It was a warrior's challenge masquerading as feminine vulnerability and he smiled. Her golden amulet sparked against her skin and Azriel sighed deeply at the memory. A flash of creamy skin caught his eye. A length of muscular leg parted the folds of her dress clear up to the top of her hip bone. He wanted to rest his palm over that bone and press his fingers into the softness that swelled behind.

"Correction. I don't see how I'm supposed to leave the house with you looking so delicious." Gwyn had smiled knowingly as his eyes drank in the sight of her, but something in his wording had broken the spell. She shifted on her feet and looked away from his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I've made you uncomfortable." It wasn't a question. He wouldn't leave her alone to police boundaries he knew had been triggered. He leaped silently toward the farthest balcony wall, away from her and the only exit. Her body relaxed immediately and the coy smile from this afternoon returned to her face.

"If you'd like to stay, perhaps close your eyes and tell me what you smell." He prayed that his impulse was right and that the smell of him would please and calm her.

"Arousal." Her eyes were closed and her head was thrown back slightly to take in the air. "Both yours and mine. A little bit of nerves." An amused grin tugged on one cheek."Both yours and mine."

It was like watching her taste a fine wine on her tongue. He wanted to go to her. "May I join you at the railing?"

"Will we leave the House if you do?"

"Is that what you want, to leave?"

"Yes. I'm nervous, but I'm ready."

"Then I will continue to hug the wall until the others get here."

Gwyn smirked at his caution and took a moment to turn her attention back to the city below. She offered him her back and the trust warmed his heart.

Our Mate trusts you, even if her body cannot always afford to do so.

How do I earn more?

By waiting. By trusting.

"Would you like to visit Velaris more, Priestess?"

"Maybe. The hum of the city is quite confronting."

"The hum is people." Azriel knew he sounded confused, and he was. "So. It still frightens you and yet it also comforts you?"

"Yes. Both. At the same time."

Gwyn shrugged as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Being jostled about by strangers. No barrier between my body and people who may wish to harm me, that used to be crippling." Another shrug, but this one stuttered with a difficult memory. "Then again, the temple was so isolated. You'd look out at night and see nothing but darkness. And they still came. Out of nowhere. And nobody heard us scream in all that nothingness. Nobody, except you."

She looked back at him with a sad smile. He saw the moment she decided to continue, to tell him something she hadn't before. He went utterly still at the realization that she was offering him more than those peeks at her naked skin, but at the heart beating beneath.

"More than the nightmares, it's the quiet that does it." Gwyn turned fully to face him but remained at the railing. "Every room I enter offers me the chance to plot a new escape route." There was a flash of steel in her eyes. "I won't be caught off guard again, but it's so exhausting. Peace is training until I can't hear even the quiet or sitting up here listening to the sounds of the city. It tells me that I'm safe. I'm in the heart of the Night Court with Rhys and Feyre, Cassian and The Shadowsinger standing vigil." She dared a wink in his direction, but her eyes didn't meet his until she spoke again. "And now, the Valkyrie. Now me."

"You can stay with me at night... if that helps." Azriel knew how it sounded, but his mind was squarely on the dresser. He would stand guard between her and the world if she would only let him.

"How selfless of you?" Gwyn teased back and stroked a delicate hand down the side of her dress.

"I didn't mean that you need to be intimate with me. I mean, I'm open and I hope we, well, what I mean is.." Why was this so hard all of a sudden? It had made sense in his head, just a moment ago.

"Glad to see that I'm not the only one being awkward with my mate lately."

"Ouch." Azriel's tone was harsher in his ears than he had initially intended, but he recognized the truth in it immediately. "I'm trying to say something that I obviously haven't fully worked out yet, but it feels important to say right now. I've never had a mate before. Can you cut me some slack, Gwyn?" Azriel tried to smile but felt his nervous mouth utterly fail him.

"Done. Please continue. Take your time, Az."

"Thank you."

He took a deep breath and forged ahead blindly. "Just because you were intimate with me once, doesn't mean I have any claim on you in the future. And being mates doesn't change that in the slightest." There it was. Where were those words a moment ago?

"Oh, I'm very clear on that." Her stance shifted with a confidence that was doing interesting things to his body. "And, I'm glad you are too. But, I still feel bad. I can know a thing and still think something totally different. Does that make sense?"

"Not at all." Azriel could hardly keep up with her and it was glorious.

"I can know that you don't have a right to my body just because I had sex with you once." He was slightly affronted at the dismissive tone that the word ONCE had from her mouth and he longed to make it a lie. "And still have to fight the feeling that I'm being unfair to withhold sex from you. Withholding is an odd word." She chuckled and he smiled back at her. Her aside was almost academic in nature, and he relished the way their conversations ebbed and flowed between thought and feeling, between past and future. Maybe that was how she put him so at ease?

"I see. I get that. We are all many people at once. More true for people who have experienced trauma. It's like the person you were on a path to being still lives on, right next to the version of you who was brutalized. If you try to force them back together, you can just fracture into more and more versions. Apparently, the goal isn't unification, but getting them to harmonize. Finding a way to speak in a chorus of voices that feel the most authentic to who you are becoming." When the words were not his own, they came easier. She had taught him that.

"I see you did read that book I gave you." Gwyn beamed back at him and her chest puffed with pride. She gestured toward a low balcony armchair that was just slightly closer to her. He smiled as he sat at her clear command. Her confidence brought his mind back to his bedroom and the sight and feel of Gwyn moving above him. He tucked his hands safely away under his thighs. For once, it was not his thought to hide them, but to lessen his need to touch her. The whole exchange brought a fresh wave of arousal to the night air around them.

"I did. Thank you, Dear. I've been thinking that's part of why I initially felt connected to Elain. She was taken from her home and changed, given powers she never asked to have and a life she never wanted. Like me." Her face was unreadable for once. "I'm sorry. Is it wrong to mention Elain?"

"Not at all. I'm not threatened by your feelings for her." Gwyn crossed toward him. Her words rang true, but there was a wariness in her posture that wasn't there a moment ago. His next words would decide something for them.

"You shouldn't be. Not by what they were and surely not what they are now. You do know that my feelings have changed?" He needed to clear the air, particularly before the dinner.

"Because you know that I am your mate?" The edge in her voice was an accusation and perhaps even a test.

Fair enough.

Exactly so.

"That just confirmed what I was already feeling, what I already wanted. If anything, it has just given me permission to overcome the fact that I know I do not deserve you. Nobody does, but at least some male will never come along with a greater bond than what you and I already share. I'm not keeping you from your mate. And no one will work harder to be worthy than me, Gwyn."

It all came out in a rush, as though every moment of misunderstanding was an injustice to be fought against.

"That part wasn't in the book I gave you." She smiled and stepped forward, closing the distance between them until she stood between his knees, splayed apart by the low rise of the deck chair.

"That was all me. I meant every word." He hoped she heard the truth in his words, but her wicked smile said she'd heard even more truth than he had intended to give her.

"And now I'm finding myself making some very specific plans for this ‘all of you’ that you speak of." Azriel let his back lift slightly off the chair as his mind pictured sliding one hand behind her exposed thigh and peppering her hip with feather-light kisses.

The moment was shattered at the sound of Cassian's booming voice. "While I applaud this new feisty Gwyneth, you and my brother are gonna need to keep it clean for a few hours yet." His grinning mug appeared from the doorway. "We have a party to attend, people!" Cassian's boisterous chuckle reverberated around the balcony, even as he tugged uncomfortably at his borrowed tux.

"You know, Cassian, I have concealed a blade under this dress."

I will die happy.

Exactly so.

"I said, clean, Gwyn! Geez." Cassian's fake outrage was pure comedy, as was the stage whisper that followed. "My brother nearly came in his pants just now." Cassian turned back into the house as his voice rose to a shout. "Nes, hurry up! It's worse than we thought. We'd better get them to the party."

Azriel winnowed them to the party and immediately conducted the first of four security sweeps. His eyes always found Gwyn through.

"Is Gwyn wearing a blade, brother?"

"Yes. Why?"

"On her left thigh?"

"Well, if it was on the right, you'd be looking at it. Wait. Stop looking at my mate's thigh."

"Then train her to stop touching it. She keeps giving it a little comforting pat. Either she is nervous or she thinks the dagger is."

"Don't be an ass."

"You two really are a beautiful pair. Enjoying the party?"

"I'd rather be home with Gwyn, but the first sweep was uneventful. Could Varian pick a more boring group of Summer delegates?"

"I'd rather he didn't actually. The whole purpose is to allow our allies a greater presence in Velaris, but nothing so formal as inviting Tarquin and nothing risky."

"I get it. I'm going to do one more sweep and then get a drink."

Azriel sipped his whisky as Nesta plopped unceremoniously into the chair to his right. He smirked. He hadn't had a chance to chat with her since before the cupcake incident.

"Enjoying the party, Nes?"

"These people are unbelievably dull."

"I noticed. At least there is no security risk, I'm going to have to tell Gwyn she can stop worrying her dagger."

"You'll tell her no such thing. For someone like Gwyn, there is always a risk." Azriel's head snapped toward Nesta in alarm.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, give me a break." Her voice was sharp and cruel. It had a tone that used to mean she'd been drinking, but he didn't smell it on her.

Lady Death still abstains from alcohol.

It is her own rule. Hers to break.

Even so.

"I don't follow."

"Of course, you don't. You walk into a room like this and you see a room full of men who are your sworn allies and you've got that famous knife of yours at your side. You walk through swinging your massive cock around and who is gonna mess with you? But if you're smart, you look around a room like this and realize that for the first time, you've got something they want."

"What is that?"

"A tight little pussy for them to park their cocks in."

"Nesta?! What the fuck?"

"I'm just saying. Everyone talks about how territorial males get after the bond snaps, but nobody thinks why?"

"And you know why?"

"Of course, I do. Every female does, even if she doesn't realize it exactly."

"Tell me then."

"Almost every female I know has had something taken from them. We all talk about choice and half the time I'm convinced it is just an illusion. But, taking is real, and taking fucking hurts. It isn't every female and it isn't only females, but almost all of the takers are male and they are almost always bigger than us and meaner than us..."

"Oh, Nesta. Don't sell yourself short. You're plenty mean."

"Thank you, but I'm not joking, Az. You're gonna start seeing with new eyes soon. I know you're not the trusting sort, but you've never walked through this world as a female. I look around and I see a room full of fairly decent males, but statistically, at least a couple of them are not, strictly speaking, safe. I don't know which ones, and I don't want to find out. But someone here just needs a little courage to prop them up or a little hit to the ego to knock them down, and then who knows what they might convince themselves that I want or deserve or that they are owed."

Find Gwyn.

Our Mate is safe and happy with the High Lady. Lady Death is not wrong. Two males are watching the two of you speak. They are debating if you share females. Strong Brother has already marked them. Sly Brother is having them escorted out momentarily.

Holy shit.

Just so.

"I'm not saying you're wrong, but where is this coming from?"

"Family makes me overly cheerful." She chucked into her sparkling water.

"I can see that." Azriel took another sip of his drink cautiously and waited for her to elaborate.

"Feyre was always the best of us. She gave her life for Prythian, and Fae was her reward. She didn't ask for it. It wasn't her choice to have all this. Rhys wasn't a choice. He was her mate. Fighting in those pits was her choice, but it was a choice to NOT go back to what our home offered."

"Which was what?"

"Nothing of ourselves, I can tell you that. This world, these threats, I let them make me cold. Sometimes in a world full of takers, it is easier to not care. To give it all away and call it a choice."

"Nesta. You're a good sister. I've seen that with my own two eyes."

"Today, maybe. To Gwyn and Emerie, probably. But, if I am, it is because those Valkyrie taught me how. A long time ago, Elain and I made a choice NOT to die for Prythian, and Fae was our punishment. Yet, here we are. And the only one who ever gets to punish me now is me and Cassian." She winked. "But, because of what you two have taught us in that ring, I can care a little less about who is decent and who is safe. But, don't you dare tell Gwyn to let her guard down. Don't you dare."

"Nesta."

"You give her all the space and choice and trust you can, but you let these males know not to go near my sister. You love her with everything you've got, so the whole world knows she doesn't stand alone."

"I will. I'm trying."

"I know. Now, go away. You're ruining my shitty mood."

"Of course."

"Do something useful with your night. Seduce Gwyn, so I can hear all the sordid details from her tomorrow."

"It would be my pleasure."

"No shit."

***

Azriel was tempting fate, and Gwyn was definitely onto him. He didn't even like chocolate cake. If anything, his mind had pictured hot wax the moment the waiter had placed a dark chocolate torte dripping with ganache before him. Azriel knew how Gwyn felt about chocolate, and the texture of the ganache made for a perfect prop.

He was pretending to listen about export taxes on pears and apples from Autumn, but he had read the old man's massive report twice this afternoon. He had been looking for anything that might explain Beron's bizarre behavior, and he found nothing. Azriel decided to lock eyes with Gwyn again.

This time he would add a bit of chocolate ganache to the outside of his thumb, as if by accident. Then he would slowly lick it off. He was taunting her. Truth be told, he was taunting himself. He had no idea what Gwyn would taste like on his tongue and the thought was quickly eclipsing all others in his brain. His eyes drifted shut as he drew in an extended, steadying breath.

It was a mistake.

If he didn't get her out of there, everyone on that end of the banquet hall would know the smell of his mate's arousal. As if on cue, Gwyn excused herself politely and rose from the table elegantly and seemingly unfazed.

Azriel waited for nearly five beats before making his own quiet exit. Gwyn's head cocked slightly to the side as his footsteps sounded a few paces behind. She led them down the hallway farther away from the sounds of the party. He would follow her wherever she wanted him to go. Standing behind her was a position he'd gladly take for whatever years he had left to him. Azriel needed to touch her and he offered his elbow. To all eyes but theirs, it was an official tour of the River House, but Azriel had exactly one room in mind. There wasn't a soul following them, but he was enjoying the performance, for once and for her.

"And this, Priestess, would be the High Lord's private study and his collection of rare and powerful books." Gwyn chuckled at his overly formal speech.

"You don't say, Shadowsinger. I must admit I'm very curious. I'm a great lover of books, you know."

He loved that she was playing along. Gwyn chucked slightly as he pulled her from the hallway. But it was her sigh at the sound of the lock turning behind them that was his undoing. Azriel pulled her body flush against his, but he was careful not to frighten her with the feel of his erection against her stomach. He'd have had her naked and against the wall in seconds, but this was his Gwyn. Nothing he'd ever done with any lover before was even remotely relevant. He coiled his hunger deep inside and kissed her gently, as though her mouth was smoke on a fickle breeze.

"You are delicious, Gwyn." Azriel hoped that wasn't the word that had set her off on the balcony, because it was truly the only one that came to mind now.

"And what would you know about that, Shadowsinger?" It was a purr. It was a taunt. She was offering a new game. She was inviting him to play.

"I'm so glad you asked, Dear. Let's see." He angled her body back against a row of books along a far wall. "You've let me taste your mouth." He tasted her mouth again. "And your bit of skin right here, just below your ear reminds me of the late summer honey." Azriel nuzzled her neck gently, but suggestively. Her head fell to the side, offering her long neck to his mouth. Azriel relished the resulting moan against his ear as he slid his tongue along the delicate nerve above her shoulder. Gwyn pressed her hand against the nape of his neck and held him harder against her body in unmistakable command.

"Is there somewhere else you'd like my tongue? Would you let me feast on my mate?" Azriel pulled back to look into her eyes. "Right here? Right now? All these people, completely oblivious that my face is buried in your pussy?" That word brought a spark to her face.

Azriel lowered his right hand from her waist to finally slide along the exposed skin at her hip. She nodded slightly, but he was going to need her to say it. He slid his hand under her dress and started to rub the back of his hand along the inside of her naked thigh. He let out a slow breath, as he watched her mind crafting her perfect response. He would give her time to decide her limits. He would offer his complete understanding, should she decide to deny him.

"Please stop talking about it and show me. I need to feel you right now." His relieved chuckle turned feral as she pressed down on his muscular shoulders until she had him kneeling before her. He heard her head fall back softly against the wall behind her. It was her only mark of surrender.

"Are you wet for me, Gwyneth?" Azriel knew the answer as well as his own name, but he also knew his mate was particularly verbal. She would have his mouth, his fingers, and his words. He nuzzled the inside of her thigh with his cheek and a bit of his chin, asking her to open for him. Azriel slid his left hand up her thigh, just past the dagger, while the right hand lifted her other knee over his shoulder. He settled his left shoulder against her standing thigh and slipped that hand up to her core. He gripped her right thigh hard enough to bruise as his left knuckle found her panties as wet as he had dreamed. She sighed in delight at the firmness of his hands.

"These are soaked, sweetness. Can I help you with that?"

"Please." She was begging him to taste her. What had he ever done to deserve this moment?

His left thumb hooked her panties and pulled them tight against her thigh. His right hand slid to cup her rear. He opened her hip slightly and tilted her body forward before holding her shuddering against his mouth. His mind went pleasantly still at the taste. Then she gripped his hair tighter and he couldn't suppress the groan of pleasure against her sex.

Az circled her clit gently with his tongue before taking the sensitive nub into his mouth. The sound of her sharp breath was drowned out by a click of one of the secret side doors opening. Azriel could smell Rhys immediately, along with his brother's surprise and gentle amusement. Azriel knew that between his shoulders and wings, nothing private of Gwyn's body would be visible. Although, it would be clear what exactly they were enjoying in his private library.

"Um. Excuse me." Why his brother chose to speak, instead of just turning and leaving, was beyond Azriel. He gently wiped his face against Gwyn's thigh before turning to speak. He was interrupted by the regal tones of his mate's voice, dripping with clear irritation and dismissal.

"You ARE excused." Az chuckled as he lowered his forehead against her soft curls. He snaked his hand from cupping her ass to splay across her belly protectively. It hid more of her body from Rhys's view. It also clamped her against his kneeling form and grounded her to him. There was no shame in this. He was not done pleasing his mate, assuming the moment wasn't ruined for Gwyn. He got his answer when her cool voice sounded again.

"Distract him for one more moment, Rhysand, and I will consider it a declaration of war."

"I'll just claim I couldn't find that book to lend and make your apologies. Assuming you want to take this someplace just a touch more private. Or maybe you don't." He smirked with a nostalgic look that proved he would be finding Feyre immediately upon returning to the party and making his own excuses and exits. Azriel had seen it plenty before.

As the door clicked behind his brother, Azriel's tongue found her core once more, returning to his leisurely exploration. Gwyn reached down to grab his wrist tightly as she pulled his forearm up toward her breast. Her hand in his hair tightened into a fist as his teeth grazed her clit playfully.

"More. I need more, Az." She panted the words at him. Azriel ripped her panties away before pressing a thick finger up and inside her tightness. He remembered her love of pressure and pushed his whole body against hers and into the wall with an intensity that was making him more than a little light-headed. His thrusts were a bit frantic and he sucked deeply on her clit. He could tell she was close. He added a second finger and took a few deep breaths before speaking.

"Come for me, Gwyn. Come around my fingers. I've got you. It's just me. I won't let you fall."

She yanked his head back by the fist of hair she still held and locked eyes with him. He pushed his hand hard against her core sending his fingers deeper inside her than ever before. Azriel watched her shatter as her muscles squeezed his fingers tightly and she rode out her pleasure with a look of pure awe on her face.

Azriel stood slowly and she melted into his body and the heat pulsing between them. He had intended to winnow them just above the training ring, but the House knew better and brought them directly to her room. Azriel draped her languid body across the bed. He reached for her gown to help her undress but thought better of it.

"We have an early meeting tomorrow with Rhys and the Inner Circle. You'll need to be there, Valkyrie."

"I should sleep then." He had to smile at the slight slur of her beautiful voice. He had done that to her and she seemed truly happy and content.

"I can stay. If it would help you sleep."

"No way we sleep if you stay. Any minute now, I will remember that I owe you an orgasm."

"You owe me nothing, Gwyn. Having your trust is the greatest high of my long life."

"You don't say much, but when you do… damn."

Move the dresser when I'm gone.

Anything Our Mate needs, we will see it done.

"The shadows can move the dresser."

"Leave it. Tonight, sleep is not my enemy."

"I love you, Gwyneth."

"Of course, you do. You're brilliant and I'm adorable." She waved her hands around between them and he laughed again. "Now. Tell me again tomorrow, when I can be sure it wasn't all a beautiful dream."

But it was, Dear. Don't you see? The best I've ever dared dream.

"Come on you bunch of drunks. We have a meeting to attend."

Nesta's voice rang out across the kitchen, and Azriel noted that it was a fair bit louder than was strictly necessary. Nesta smirked at the chorus of answering groans from the Housemates, plus Mor and Emerie who had snuck into one of the spare bedrooms after the gala. Nesta opened her mouth to yell again, but Cassian hoisted her over his shoulder and promptly leaped from the nearest balcony. Her screeching brought more than one smile to the faces around the breakfast table.

Gwyn chuckled and Azriel noted with a smile as she shredded small bits of her muffin with delicate fingers.

"Em?" Azriel asked with mischief in his voice.

"Yes?" Her conspiratorial tone warmed his heart, as did her slight smile.

"Do otters always play with their food?" He tried to keep his tone light, but Azriel was having trouble keeping the pleased smirk from his face today. He had hoped that he'd have a private moment to check in with Gwyn before the others arrived, but she'd entered the kitchen with her best friends in tow.

"Only when they are nervous. Why so nervous, Gwyn?"

"Well, from the scent in the air.." Mor started but was cut short as wind swept the dining room when all windows blew open at once. Azriel turned to notice that the shadows had swarmed Gwyn smothering any trace of her scent.

"While I appreciate the privacy, couldn't you have helped out a bit with Nesta and Cassian?"

"Well. Nesta has no shame." Mor's tone had an edge that Nesta did not deserve, but it was another word that snagged his mind. Years of spycraft vanished from his mind, as his eyes shot to Gwyn's.

Could she be ashamed? Is that what I'm seeing right now?

Our Mate is nervous about the meeting. Our Mate is not very hungry. Our Mate is annoyed at the slight to Lady Death but avoids creating conflict for her sister. Our Mate is not at all ashamed.

"I'm just not sure why Rhys has called this meeting, and I like to know what I'm walking into. Fair enough?" Her tone was serious, but her eyes met his mischief in kind.

She likes being compared to an otter.

Our Mate likes being part of a family again.

The truth of their words stuck in his throat. Even without accepting the bond, they had become a family along the way. He rose from the table before the emotion could overwhelm him.

"Only one way to find out. Shall we?"

Azriel set them down as gently as he could near the back door and hurried them into the kitchen. He was following his nose, which had detected the smell of freshly baked bread. He knew immediately that he would find Cerridwen's famous sourdough buns baking. She usually served them with fresh butter and a stout beef stew. He'd have to make a point to invite Gwyn to hang back for lunch. He could picture her perfectly ripping off tiny bits of bread and dredging them into the stew with her beautiful hands. Azriel pictured wiping a bit of gravy from her chin with his thumb and willed his body to calm.

He was relieved to see the pomp and formality of the night before had already been removed. Rhys was the High Lord but this would always be a family home. The more they could keep the politics out of it, the happier Azriel would be. That was when he heard Nesta and Feyre bickering from a room down the hall, probably that alcove with the perfect morning light for painting. He heard Lucien's name more than once and not in a favorable tone. Nesta was always louder than his High Lady.

The Archeron sisters are arguing about Lucien again.

Exactly so.

Anything interesting?

Not yet.

Azriel plucked two of those fancy apples Feyre liked to keep in that hideous ceramic bowl on the kitchen island, the only remaining evidence of her disastrous attempt at pottery. He watched it wobble briefly on the wooden counter, before offering an apple to Gwyn with what he hoped was a warm smile.

They settled in Rhysand's office as the rest of the Inner Circle still milled about chatting or hunting for snacks.

"You've got some juice on your face, brother." Azriel wiped his chin with the back of his wrist and locked dark eyes on his brother's smirking face.

"Don't you dare make her uncomfortable."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Because you're scared of her, aren't you."

"Mildly terrified. So are you. She's absolutely perfect, in every single way."

The joy on Rhysand's face left no room for doubt. He was utterly beaming at Gwyn and something knit in a part of Azriel's heart that had long ago ripped apart. He was happy to see Rhys returning to himself more and more with each passing day and with each new connection he allowed himself to make.

Mor was pouring wine from a decanter despite the early morning hour. The image was depressingly familiar. Her issues felt beyond him somehow, just as she had always felt beyond his reach. What had always felt like yearning had somehow revealed itself to just be emotional distance.

"Good to see you again, Red. I remember liking you." Amren's voice cut through the chatter of the room and all eyes fell on the pair of females.

So. This day is to start with Amren and her antics.

Exactly so.

"It's Gwyn or Gwyneth, Priestess, or Valkyrie. I will answer to any of those, but not Red. Ask Cassian, if you doubt me."

"As I said, I like you."

Is it wrong that I'm enjoying this?

Not wrong, just mildly obscene.

"I'd feel better about that statement if you'd stopped looking at me like I'm the last pork chop on the plate and circling me, well… menacingly." Azriel just shrugged and nodded.

There is no better word for the vulture circling that Amren enjoys for initiating new people.

It is menacing.

Lucien seemed to enjoy it to no end though.

The Fox has his own preferences.

He's a good sport.

Luckily.

"I don't eat pork and I rarely need a plate."

"Why doesn't that make me feel any better though?"

"Because you're smart."

"What is happening here?" Gwyn looked over at him for support, but her eyes shone with a bit of her special brand of mischief. "Az, do you know what is happening here?" He shrugged again. Amren being cryptic and mildly threatening was just an idiosyncrasy of the Inner Circle. They all tolerated it and a few of them enjoyed it immensely. Azriel's hungry smile faded at Amren's next words.

"You have powers, child."

"I don't have any powers and I'm not a child." Gwyn's eyes were no longer laughing.

"I've revealed nothing of Gwyn's discoveries, or the lack of discoveries since we seem to be talking about latent powers here."

"Tell Gwyn that, not me."

"I did, you moron. This is just a courtesy, so you could take a moment to school that pretty face of yours and remember that you're a fucking spy."

"To me, everyone is a child" Amren gestured to the entirety of the room before continuing. "And you mean to say that you are not aware of having any specific powers. It isn't the same thing."

Gwyn glanced again at Rhysand, who had initially appeared merely inclined to humor Amren. Azriel recognized his ambitious curiosity as it washed across his brother's face. Cassian was enjoying spectating the two females like a sporting championship, and Azriel was tempted to throw his apple core at his brother's rabid face.

"Mates are equals." At Amren's words, all thoughts of punishing his brother vanished. "You, my dear child, are sitting with The Shadowsinger." Amren gave him a professional sort of nod. "The only known of his kind." She looked back to Gwyn. "The scent of your connection is even stronger now than ever before."

She knew!!

"You knew!!" It was Azriel's turn to balk at the tiny terror. How long had his friend known of his mating bond and not told him? Then again, Amren was less a friend and more akin to that cool aunt people trust to bail them out of jail and never breathe a word of it to their parents.

"I thought you said you could mask it?" Gwyn whispered frantically to him and he felt her curl into the shelter of his side.

"The bond, Gwyneth. Not all the sex you're having. Although…" Amren's smirk was indecent. As she continued, Azriel understood why. "Congratulations on that as well. I've heard he is extremely well-endowed. And, I would guess a very giving lover." Amren was openly admiring them both now and it was Azriel's turn to feel like pork. It was not a new sensation.

"I'll never tell." Gwyn seemed to regain some of her irreverent spark until Nesta blurted.

"Or walk straight again."

"Nesta!" Azriel heard Gwyn chastise her new sister, but he wasn't sure how to feel about the high-five he just somehow knew was coming later. Thankfully, Gwyn got distracted.

"Wait, you can SMELL IT?! Does it smell like hot cinnamon rolls baking in the oven? I would think so. You know, don't tell me. I'm gonna stick with my hot cinnamon rolls theory and I don't need you proving me wrong."

"Do you always make jokes when you're uncomfortable?"

"Yes!" The room erupted in unison.

"You've got a sharp tongue and a quick mind. From your stance and what I can see of those beautiful hips, in a fight, I'd watch for a mean roundhouse kick from the … right?" The question was for him, so he nodded. This was finally getting interesting.

"And watch it sail over you, you're what 4"11? I'm not trained to fight lethal raccoons?"

I'm in love with this female. I have found my religion and it is her.

Exactly so.

Amren's answering cackle was mildly infectious. "Have you ever wondered why you're not afraid of me?"

"I haven't wondered and I have no idea."

"Usually, I find that grating, but you're like a breath of fresh air in the Night Court. Have you ever noticed that you're uniquely able to cut through a complicated issue straight to the core, why is that?"

"Again. No. And no clue."

"A child of Calamnai can be many things, Gwyn."

"If that's my power, it seems like a shitty superpower compared to misting and controlling darkness. And before you start meddling, Tamlin is not my father. I've already looked into that. I can't change my form and it's dominant even in the female line."

Azriel was surprised by her admission. They had never discussed the possibility that Tamlin could be her father and she had not shown any interest in exploring the possibilities since they returned. Then again, most of his concentration was going to controlling his own arousal.

"Give her to me."

"Excuse me?"

"The child, Rhysand. Give her to me." Azriel started to rise, but Rhys gave a quick wave in his direction. He knew how to handle Amren.

"She's a member of the Night Court and can do as she wishes, Amren."

"Fine." Amren broke eye contact with Gwyn to give Rhys an exasperated look, muttering under her breath. "Utterly useless." When she addressed Gwyn again, though it was with more formality and consideration than before.

"Let me train you. I couldn't do anything with that one. She's all steel and moonlight." Amren waved generally in Nesta's direction.

"You're something else. You're gold. Valuable. Malleable. Liquid flame."

"You know you're just mumbling random words." Cassian thankfully interjected, and Azriel knew it was partially for Gwyn and partially in defense of his mate.

"Not random. This one is special."

"You gonna try to make a necklace out of Gwyn?" Watching Cassian defend the Valkyries warmed Azriel's heart.

"Nesta is a sword and no offense, but swords do not interest me. Gwyn is a jewel."

"Jewelry is pointless." Gwyn sounded offended but sure of herself. She had no need of his hovering about on her behalf.

"What is a crown, if not jewelry? A ring? Are those pointless or are they symbols of power?"

"I won't fit in your jewelry box, Amren."

"I think you underestimate the size of my jewelry box, Gwyn."

The frustration in Amren's tone combined with the visual of Gwyn locked in a box and broke his resolve. Azriel snarled.

It brought a smile to Amren's face, He knew he'd just proven her point. "I thought you said the bond hadn't snapped, Shadowsinger."

"It hasn't. Just practicing. Turns out I like snarling at you."

"And telling jokes all of a sudden?"

"Az has always been funny, in a dry sort of Azriel way." Cassian wasn't following the full import of this conversation exactly, but his need to defend his family was near constant.

"Cassian, are you gonna try to explain wit to me? Look. You three bats might snuggle and fight like brothers, but I understand the Shadowsinger better than most. I've heard his humor, but never in a room with more than three people."

"She's right." Rhys was clearly interested.

"Obviously, I'm right. I think the world is about to discover what happens when a shadowsinger finds his light."

"Az has loved before." Gwyn's voice was small, but still held the certainty he fell in love with.

She is wrong, of course.

Of course, Our Mate is mistaken.

Amren knows it.

The Amren would never say so.

"Anyone can love, Gwyn. I'm talking about hope." Amren turned back to him. He noticed Feyre's eyes grow quietly distant seconds before Amren continued.

"Azriel, you've been willing to die for a fair number of Fae over the centuries that I've known you.

But when you decide that you're ready, Gwyn just might be the first thing you're willing to stay alive for, and if I was our enemies, I would fear that very much."

"Well, I don't know much about hope, but Beron seems afraid. If that counts for anything." Lucien strolled in and sat gracefully on a long cushioned bench along the far wall. Azriel noted it was the closest open seat to the door. Nesta bristled and her eyes shot to Feyre's.

So the fight was about Lucien's attendance at this meeting.

Lady Death does not trust him and worries that allowing him into these meetings puts undue pressure on Middle Sister to accept their bond.

And does it?

Middle Sister is in town. She will accept the bond when she accepts that she is High Fae. Nothing the High Lady does will change that.

"Your father has been causing trouble for years." Cassian, always the General, spoke idly, as he gazed absently at a map of Prythian that hung on the wall just over Lucien's shoulder. Azriel caught Lucien's slight flinch, as did Gwyn. She perked up at the word father and Azriel caught a question flit across Lucien's brow.

"He has a copy of the prophecy. What he thinks it means, I can't tell you." Lucien's voice balanced admirably between a courtier's disinterest and the disgust lurking beneath.

"I'd bet anything he copied it from Ianthe." Cassian mused and Lucien flinched again. Gwyn marked it, as did Feyre. What was more interesting was watching Rhys catch it and soften his gaze on Lucien in support.

"You should warn a male when his shields are down, Rhys."

"I have. You know me better than that, Az."

"We can discuss that more later. For now, everyone should know that we have reviewed the prophecies. They seem to center around reuniting a sword and a knife. Until we learn more, everyone is to focus on our next test scheduled with Varian and his growing delegation."

"I thought Amren had that well in hand." Nesta snickered.

"You each have a packet. Meet with your teams. The next delegation arrives in a month. Lucien and Az please remain for just a quick moment, otherwise, this meeting is dismissed."

Amren kept her seat and set her icy glare on Rhysand. Azriel could imagine the conversation they were silently having was not entirely pleasant. Eventually, Amren rose slowly and reluctantly. Lucien somehow managed to wink at her, as she passed his seat. Azriel heard the snap of her teeth in reply, but Lucien just chuckled.

"Aren't you afraid of her?" Gwyn asked quietly as she reached him on her way to the door.

"Not particularly."

"Why not?"

"When Amren kills me…" Lucien looked around the room and nodded slightly. "… And it will probably be Amren, it will be because Rhysand asked her to do it. Why spend my days worrying over the whims of a madman?" Lucien's shrug was irreverent, but a cool knowing gaze fell on Rhys. The Fox missed nothing and he wasn't afraid to let people know it. How had Azriel never noticed the resemblance before?

"Gwyn, if you're curious, feel free to remain as well." Rhys waved his hand absently. "Your research could turn out to be very relevant if there is anything you would like to share. But only if it suits you, of course."

Lucien's eyes narrowed as Gwyn took a seat at the opposite end of his bench.

"Gwyn has family ties to Autumn." Rhys offered the simple phrase to no one in particular, as though that would explain her recent inclusion.

"One-quarter river otter, if memory serves correctly." Lucien's smile was curious and playful. This had become Gwyn's meeting and Lucien knew it. He also seemed to understand, to his credit, that she hadn't decided what she would reveal to him just yet.

"I'm no more otter than you are fox, and my blood earns me nothing." Gwyn stated simply but did not turn toward him.

"Like I said, one-quarter river otter." He gave them a beat before continuing. He was obviously enjoying the intrigue so far. "Also, that's not entirely true, everyone deserves to know where they came from." Something seemed to pass between them. Gwyn gave herself a slight nod and sat up straight in her seat.

"I've been told that my father was from Autumn, as was my maternal grandfather." She turned to Lucien then.

"Well, you're not mine. I'd be able to tell that right away."

"Tell how?" Rhys spoke again and Azriel heard the interest in his brother's tone.

"My magic would recognize something of itself in hers." Lucien shrugged as though it was the most obvious of things, but Azriel noted a tension had crept up his shoulders.

"And does all fire magic work this way?"

Lucien ignored the barb and turned a quiet word back to Gwyn. "I'm guessing from the red hair and your desire to talk to me, that you have reason to believe that we are related."

"It isn't just a theory." Rhys spoke with an authority that did not enjoy being ignored.

"Good grief. Let's just out with it Rhys, you melodramatic child." Gwyn huffed.

"On second thought, can she be mine? I would really like her to be mine. I've always thought I'd make an excellent father."

"I am your niece."

"Ah. And which of my demon brothers is supposed to have sired you?" There was a wary doubt in his voice.

"Gwyn was in charge of translating the prophecy of the sword using the oldest existing copy on record. It is currently found in the archives of the Day Court."

"You've been to Day." She nodded at his whisper that was not a question.

"So. This is to be that meeting. At long last." Lucien spared an accusatory glance at Feyre, before turning all of his attention to his niece. "And what did my father learn by meeting with you, Dear Gwyneth?"

"My mother was the child of a river nymph and a low-ranking male from the Autumn Court. She was given to the temple. I am a child of Calamnai." Her resolve broke on the last word and her hands covered her face. "How could a child born of so much rape and coercion ever escape it. I was always going to be on that table in Sangravah. It is my blood."

Before Azriel could reach her, his eyes took in the form of Lucien kneeling at Gwyn's feet. Lucien coaxed her hands, gently from her face.

"A nymph's magic is part seduction and part compulsion. Did her lover survive?" The tilt of his head held a tender question.

"Yes. My mother lived in Autumn for a time."

"Then, it is safe to assume it was a seduction. No different than any number of lovers, though I'm sensing you're new to such things." Lucien smiled sweetly at her and she blushed in turn.

"You said that your mother was raised by the priestesses."

"Yes."

"Was she herself religious? Did she believe in the Rite?"

"Yes, very much so." Gwyn was nodding, anticipating his thinking.

"Then I can assure you that her participation in Calamnai would have felt like a truly honorable thing."

"Helion said that my father was forced to attend. That Beron forced him.

"Your father was Maël. Helion is sure."

"Yes."

"And you fear that you were conceived through violence."

"It doesn't have to be violence to not be consent."

"Very true." Rhys shared a sad smile at Lucien's words. "It does not. I can assure you that of all the things that Beron made my brother do, Calamnai was by far his favorite." Lucien offered her another tender smile. "Nymphs might be a bit of guesswork for me, but I can assure you that Calamnai is not truly compulsion. That type of religious fervor is still consensual. The people who attend, do so freely and knowingly." Lucien looked to Feyre that time before continuing. "My brother did many things at Beron's bidding, but making you would not have been a thing that he'd have ever regretted."

"I lost my mother as a child. I lost my sister at Sangravah. Until very recently, I've been all alone." She looked at Azriel and his heart tightened at the love he saw reflected there.

"I've never known much of familial love," Lucien added and she turned her attention back to him.

"But, I'm open to learning. If you ever decide that you're willing to take on an old fox as your pupil."

"Perhaps we should leave you two alone to talk." Azriel was surprised by the roughness in his voice.

"You know, Shadowsinger. Of all the ways I saw this playing out," He stood to face Azriel once he reached the doorway behind Feyre and Rhys. Lucien pinned him with a commanding stare. "I wouldn't have guessed that you'd be the one I'd end up related to."

The Fox is a good sport.

Luckily.

This section of the park was Azriel's favorite location inside Velaris. Not counting Rhysand's personal residences, and lately, even when he was, this sprawling bit of park was the one place that consistently centered him. It offered the social hum of The Rainbow, though none of its overpowering crowds, the community of family dinner, though none of the stifling history. It was green and lush, full of little trails and hidden fountains.

A people watcher by training and trade, Azriel embraced opportunities to witness life unfolding before him. These people were why he did what he did and he prayed that they justified it. On a level still nearly closed off even from him, Azriel yearned for their understanding, yearned for his people to accept him.

He knew Gwyn would find him here, on this bench, as she had for weeks on end. It had become their spot, though neither mentioned it as such. It was convenient. Only a few blocks from the River House and her regular meetings with Rhys. Around the corner from the small cafe where she liked to lunch with Nesta and Emerie, or more increasingly with Lucien.

People misunderstood Azriel's reservations about Gwyn's budding closeness with Lucien. The Fox was family, but he had no reason to speak well of Azriel. Even before the debacle with Elain, the heinous perception of Rhys and his brothers was slow to die. He could still hear his own snarls as the words "Amarantha's Whore" dripped from Lucien's lips. People had easily embraced the ruse and Azriel feared, on a level painfully accessible, whether his even counted as such anymore.

He had always been a private male by nature and by necessity. He enjoyed teasing his mate on the explicit details she served happily to giggling girlfriends, an intimate group that clearly included Rhys. Truth be told, Rhys probably heard more than most given the unique support that he could offer someone like Gwyn.

With Nesta and Emerie, Azriel knew she joked of wingspan and stamina, of whip cream and fuzzy handcuffs, and he cherished her comfort and lightness in those moments. It was an inclusion and closeness that she deserved. With Rhys, Gwyn spoke of triggers and damage and fear and failure. She spoke of the goals that she set for herself and for them. He figured it should bother him, but he was too old and Gwyn was too important to be limited by shoulds.

There was no part of their love or their lovemaking that Azriel felt he needed to hide. Well, almost nothing. It was that hiding that brought him to the bench today. They had an appointment with Emina that he was not excited to attend.

"Can I ask how long ago you were burned? The story is not known."

"I was a child, so over 500 years."

"And how do you handle fire now?"

"Not well."

Azriel knew that he had retreated into his shell. He had felt that same old fear lurking just beneath the surface. So he hid deeper, even from her. Thankfully, his mate was smarter than his fear.

"Trauma is connected to all of your senses. I'm a priestess, not a healer. You're my lover, not my patient." The thin strap of her nightgown had fallen off her shoulder and Azriel reached across the bed to slide it back into place before locking eyes with Gwyn. She sat facing him, their knees nearly touching.

"You are my mate."

"Lover or mate, my point remains the same, Smartass." Azriel tried to distract her with a well-placed purr.

"Between us, touch is a loving and consensual thing. Our goal is always pleasure and healing. If we try the candles..."

"You mean the one that you're currently holding in your hand."

"Yes. That one. If we try the wax, it will be from that space of healing. Some Fae use this for pain, but that is not our goal. We are not trying to teach you to love fire, like some broody little pyro. Being afraid of fire is a healthy instinct."

"Thank you."

"However, you encounter candles in your life and our goal is for that to remind you of these moments and not your trauma. Just as I encounter tables and belt buckles."

Do you think Gwyn has noticed I've thrown out all my belts?

Our Mate has noticed. She is grateful. She was embarrassed. She bought you a new one in town. The feel in her hands made her vomit. Our Mate threw it away. It was ugly anyway. Our Mate is still speaking. Focus.

"I guess what I'm saying is that your trigger doesn't need to become a kink. Although if your desk is any indication and if the books I've read on wax play are to be believed, I'm certainly open to this one."

"You've been reading books on this?"

"Have you met me? Of course, I've been reading books on this. I've found only two in the library that mention wax play specifically as a sexual act. Much more on sensory integration in general. As far as I can tell, this is not a common therapy for burn victims."

"Uncharted territory? Sounds about right." Azriel swiped the back of her hand with his thumb, holding it loosely. "By sensory integration, you mean the way that trauma gets associated with sights and sounds and feelings."

"And smells. Don't forget smells. That's a big one." Gwyn took a steadying breath. "How do you handle the candles at the service?"

"Not well."

"But you attend often. You always have."

"How do you know that?"

"Even before the bond snapped. I could sense you. You sit in the back, away from the rest of us though. Away from the candles."

"Yes."

"Would you like to stay there?"

"Perhaps." Azriel studied her face. "It would be nice to have a choice."

"So we start here, in your room when you're ready."

"How do we start?"

"We use these soy candles that Emina gave us." Gwyn gestured casually to the box of candles on the bed. "They have the lowest melting temperature, so they are the least painful."

She marked his wince, but he nodded for her to continue. "I've already tried them on my skin. It is just a very pleasant warmth. The wax dries quickly and can be peeled off." He winced again at the memory of his shedding hands. "Is this too much? Or would you like to see what I mean?"

"Show me." At his command, Gwyn lit the candle with a flick of her fingers.

"Surprise!" Her voice was light, but her eyes gleamed with fretful energy.

"So you do have a little fire magic."

"A little. That's one of the things that made me sure that we should at least try Emina's suggestion."

"What do you mean?"

"I trust Emina, but as I said, this isn't typical therapy. Then I realized that The Mother sent you a mate with fire, Az. She must think it can heal you. She just must." The determination and hope playing through her words eased his spike of fear.

"So. You light the candle. Now, what do we do?"

"I'm going to put a little on my skin." Gwyn moved closer to him and draped her exposed legs over each of his knees. "If it is too hot, I will smear it around with my thumb. That will cool it immediately. It may leave a red mark. Will that upset you?"

"Burn marks on my mate? I'm fairly certain that will be a problem, Gwyn."

"But what if I like it? Would that make it better?"

"Only one way to know, sweetheart." Azriel nodded to the candle in her hand.

"Okay. First, close your eyes and tell me what you smell?"

"I smell you."

"What do you scent about me?"

"You're nervous, but already aroused."

"What else?"

"I can smell the candle."

"Okay. Now open your eyes and just watch me."

Azriel opened his eyes as Gwyn dripped a few drops of white wax onto the thigh resting nearly in his lap. Her moan was immediately intoxicating. She dripped a few more drops and the scent of her arousal filled the room. He could see a flush creep up her body and dampness darken her panties. His senses were overwhelmed. Azriel blew out the candle and dove mouth first for her core.

"I need to taste you. I can smell and hear and feel you, but I need you on my mouth, Gwyn."

"Yes. Whatever you need."

It had been like that for weeks. They had worked up to different kinds of wax on Gwyn's skin and bigger drops landing in more interesting places. Every time, Gwyn was the one to hold the candle. Every time, Gwyn was the one to feel the wax. Every time, Azriel would devour her. The candle was discarded and nearly forgotten.

"I've noticed that you don't touch me with your hands."

"I touch you all the time."

"I hardly see them when we play with the wax. You're also never naked. I can tell the difference between your skin and your shadows. I love them, but only if you're comfortable."

"I'm not."

"What?"

"I'm not comfortable with the wax."

"Azriel Shadowsinger, SpyMaster of the Night Court, what are you playing at?" Gwyn had chastised him with a playful, though authentic, authority. "When were you gonna say something?"

"Never?" Gwyn growled at him.

"Are you growling at me?"

"Yes. You are abusing my mate. And you're using me to do it!"

"I am your mate."

"So? Don't make me spank you."

"You can you know."

"Stop distracting me."

"Do you still have that little notebook of yours? We could start another experiment. You know, for science. I think you'd look good with a short, riding crop tight in your fist." The scent of her arousal hit him and Azriel purred again. This time with more impact. "Interesting. Very interesting."

"Stop distracting me."

"But it is so fun."

"We are not here for fun!"

"Are we not?"

"You know what I mean."

"Almost never."

"Liar."

"You're right. Maybe it is time to see Emina. I do want to try."

If you're quite done, Our Mate approaches from the Western Entrance to the park. She was too nervous to eat. She is optimistic. She is very pretty.

I've seen her. She is more than very pretty. Everyone knows she is devastatingly beautiful. She will eat plenty at family dinner. I will see to it.

Azriel stood from the bench and linked arms with his mate. Gwyn chatted nervously about her day, but Azriel allowed his mind to wander.

"Can I ask how long ago you were burned? The story is not known.

"I was a child, so over 500 years."

"And how do you handle fire now?"

"Not well."

This time Emina had no questions for him and no concerns for Gwyn. She just greeted them with a sure smile and showed them into the same room as before.

The table is missing the face cradle.

You're not here for a massage.

The room smells different.

It does, but how so?

It smells faintly of water lilies and the charged air before a hard rain. It is so familiar.

Can you recall when you smelled this last?

The day Gwyn cut the ribbon. How did she do that?

Her ways are not known.

Gwyn stepped from the changing room back in a silk robe and Azriel grinned at the memory.

"Will you help me with the clasp on my necklace?"

"No. Keep it on, please."

"Okay. Is the room okay?"

"No. It is a little too dark. I'm feeling closed in by it actually. It is making me want to leave." Gwyn nodded and lit a few more candles, but only along the far wall away from the table.

"Would you like to finish changing? You're still wearing your pants."

"I know."

"You don't have to wear them. Emina was very clear that sexual contact is allowed here."

"I don't think I can be touched, Gwyn. Not like that. Not now. Not with flames burning in this room."

"If you're not comfortable…"

"I'm comfortable with what we are here to do. I just can't feel that exposed. Yet." Azriel had always been proud of his body. He wouldn't hesitate to walk stark naked through any of the courts of Prythian, but in this room, he needed a little privacy even from Gwyn.

"Good thing we got me over my fear of tables." Gwyn smiled as she hopped up onto the massage table and spread her knees invitingly. Azriel found his stool waiting at the end as though he had just risen from comforting Gwyn through her massage. He rolled it slowly toward her with a suggestive grin.

"Can we try your breasts and stomach today?" Azriel lifted a candle to Gwyn. It was a higher-temperature candle that he knew melted into a fragrant massage oil. His breath held in his chest and he drank in the sight of his mate opening before him. Gwyn pulled the silk tie loose before resting her weight back on one hand. She shrugged a shoulder from the silk and it pooled along the table around her. Her gold pendant winked from between two perfect breasts, nipples pebbled with the touch of air and raw need. Azriel inched closer between her legs and felt the heat radiating off her naked body. The sight never failed to arouse him.

Azriel noticed a few stray marks left on her thighs from their last adventure and he didn't taste the bitterness of guilt. He knew that she had enjoyed it. He had breathed in her enjoyment. Tasted it on his tongue. And he was ready for more. Her moans were not a proxy for his pleasure. He would have no shield to cover his absence but prove his absolute presence at that moment with her and with himself.

Gwyn let a few drops fall onto the slight curve of flesh just above her stomach and groaned. A few more and her eyes fluttered shut. He placed his hands delicately on her knees and slid closer to her heat. A few more drops and he swiped his thumb gently over her bare thigh. Azriel could feel her need cording thru his body, burning from the inside, twining with his own. Her eyes flick to his hands. He had put them inside her before and felt her release tight around his fingers. Never here. Not like this.

Azriel rose from the stool into a low crouch as she dropped wax onto one breast. She was panting as he rubbed a knuckle across her folds.

"Is this okay?"

"Please, Az. Do you want to feel me?"

"Yes."

She was soaked and Azriel plunged two fingers inside her as he took her other breast into his mouth. He pressed her further back onto the table and hooked her leg with his elbow. She screamed triumphantly as he turned his hand to press the meat of his palm against her throbbing clit. He added another finger and watched her as he rocked his thigh against the back of his hand, adding the pressure he knew Gwyn needed. Azriel searched her face.

"Gwyn, baby, is this ok? Are you ok? Am I hurting you?"

"A little. I love it. I love you. Are you ok?"

"Better than ok, sugar."

"Good. Now fuck me harder. Make me cum, Shadowsinger."

Azriel took her nipple into his mouth again. The heat of her core clenched around his scars and he wondered for the first time if the heat of his mouth felt the same on her sensitive nipple. He pressed harder into her at the thought and grazed her lightly with his teeth. She shuddered and hot wax fell onto his ear and neck.

Azriel hissed at the contact and Gwyn gasped in horror. To his surprise, the wax was warm and sensual, and inviting. He wasn't frightened at all. Before she could apologize, Az took her wrist with a glistening fist and turned drops onto his own chest. He nodded and returned his hand to her core. Pressing harder into her, he felt more drops land on his shoulder. His mate wiped and kissed and nipped at his skin, as she rode his hand ruthlessly. Gwyn gave him more wax and massaged it deep into his skin. He curled his fingers and rocked his palm and thigh against her. Muscles that had been clenched hard for centuries melted at the heat and at her touch.

Wrapping his arm around to grip her ass against him, He pulled her harder onto his hand. He was nearly sure she would snap, but Gwyn threw her head back groaning in carnal release. At the sight, sound, and scent of his mate's release, at the tight heat dripping on his scarred fingers, Azriel Shadowsinger, Spymaster of the Night Court came hard in his own pants.

Slumping back onto the stool, Azriel felt warm tears drip along his face. In the darkness behind his closed eyes, Azriel felt Gwyn slide onto his lap and wrap him in legs and arms and love. She offered her comfort and support and he drank it deep into his battered soul. He felt her hands stroke his hairline, his temple, and then along his jaw. He heard Gwyn start to hum a simple melody and Azriel swayed his body slow as a lapping wave.

"Just let me be the one to tell Rhys that I came in my pants like a teenager."

"It's time you were allowed to be one, don't you think?"

"And if you ever tell Lucien…"

"Don't tempt me with more punishment, Shadowsinger."

***

"A little bird told me you had a date in town today." Cassian's voice nearly boomed as Azriel entered Rhysand's private library for what was supposed to be a quick meeting.

"I wouldn't call Nesta bird-like. Would you, Rhys?"

"Not to her face."

"You don't have to tell him about Emina's, but I don't think that Gwyn would mind."

Our Mate would not mind.

I don't need you or Rhys telling me what Gwyn would or would not mind. Busybodies.

Sure you don't.

"We've been experimenting with wax."

"What do you mean by experimenting with wax?"

"Wax Play. You drop bits of wax on your lover's naked body. It can be quite arousing."

"Oh shit. Good for Gwynie. Well, both of you really. I didn't know she'd be up for stuff like that?"

"She is. We've been going slow though. Gwyn thinks it will help me to make some positive memories around fire and heat."

"And from the look on your face, it seems to be working?"

"If you count coming in my own pants and then crying like a baby. Yeah. I would say that it is working."

"Good, cleansing tears?" Rhys spoke for the first time and his concern was touching.

"The best kind." Azriel nodded but was relieved that he didn't feel more blubbering coming on.

"So. You're what? Healed?" Rhys and Azriel laughed at Cassian's question.

"No. I'm fairly sure it doesn't work that way."

"But. You had Gwynie pour hot oil on you and it turned you on."

"Yes."

"Because she was into it?"

"Because I was into it."

"And then she touched your cock?"

"Nope."

"But you came anyway. In your pants?" Cassian's grin was feral.

"And then I cried, Cassian. Don't forget that I cried." Azriel smirked behind his whiskey glass and Rhys beamed back at him. "I'm meeting Mor in a bit and then I need to check in with some of my spies. I should make it to family dinner though. If not, make sure Gwyn gets home safe and tell her I'll meet her there later."

"You might want to clean that little bit of wax off your ear before you see Mor or you'll never hear the end of it."

"Nice try, Cass. We moved past soy candles some time ago. Well, we've moved Gwyn past them. The one she used on me today melts to an oil. My mate did a pretty thorough job massaging and licking it from my skin. I doubt she missed even a single drop."

"Oh. Ok. Wow." Cassian stood awkwardly. "I think I need to go find Nesta for a bit."

"Leave the holiday candles in the dining room alone! They will burn the shit out of both of you. Ask the House for the right ones. Stick to soy. Be safe."

"You too. Never doubt your worth or our love. You see your way home to us, brother."

"This isn't a mission, Cass. I'm just checking in with a few spies before dinner."

"All the same, Az. Watch your back. Or where will Gwynie put all her fancy, edible wax?"

The best view of this particular street hid just below the canopy. As he always did, Azriel approached the Townhouse on foot. His brother's single malt still warmed in his belly. The light scent of Gwyn's oils still clung to his body. The memory of her hands ghosted across his skin with the afternoon breeze. It was enough to set the shadows twittering.

Shadows do not twitter.

Not even for Gwyn?

You're late, Shadowsinger.

And you're changing the subject.

Her Mistress Morrigan is inside already. She appears nervous. She cleans broken crockery from the kitchen floor. She curses loudly. She has a filthy mouth.

Azriel chuckled his way through the Townhouse foyer and aimed back toward the rear of the house and the kitchen. The rooms were pristine. Little touches caught his eye, evidence that life had returned. The warmth of little potted succulents and comfortable cream throws nearly vanished the dust and decay that had marked the years of Rhysand's captivity. Azriel's attention snagged on a bit of wall, now indistinguishable from the rest, that had been a bloody hole. A punch Azriel had thrown into the night. He couldn't remember when the brothers had settled into pretending they didn't hear each other's sobs or why their lonely pretense had seemed preferable. Gwyn would never have stood for it and neither would he. Not anymore.

He smiled at the thought, and something like worth bloomed in his chest. Azriel's eyes drifted shut at the scent of his favorite coffee brewing. He followed his nose through the kitchen to find a coffee press waiting atop the garden table, visible just beyond the open glass doors.

Mor is up to something.

Exactly so.

"So." Azriel cleared his throat. He placed two palms on the white marble island and toed up to peer over the far edge. Mor jumped slightly at the sound and a few stray broken bits of mug fell from her hands. Azriel chuckled, though he wasn't particularly proud of how much it pleased him to see her flustered. "This feels new, Mor."

"Having coffee? We've had coffee before, Az."

"If you mean that we have consumed coffee in each other's presence, then yes. We have had coffee, Mor. Sure. But these are my favorite beans and it looks like you've actually set a timer for the brew."

"And I used filtered water and heated it to exactly the ideal temperature."

"I'd ask where you learned that, but um… I think I have a pretty good guess."

When we tell you things, it does not count as you making good guesses.

Focus. I'm having a conversation.

Her handful of shards clattered as she tossed them into the trash. Mor turned with narrowed eyes. She waited and did not speak.

"Truly, Mor. What are you up to?"

"Nothing. Thought we could catch up." Mor turned back to an elegant tray of wide cups, bacon-wrapped dates, and an assortment of exotic cheeses from the mountain villages. They were some of his favorite things, but the same could be said for any of the three brothers. The same could be said of Emerie.

"Don't try lying to me, Mor. I can always tell." The muscles woven across her back seized under her thin red blouse. She took one measured breath and he watched her body relax in waves. Her hands stilled briefly over the coffee tray and then set about picking it up again.

She's learned tricks beyond just how to brew strong coffee for a bold flavor without the bitterness.

Exactly so.

"Is that really true?" Her words echoed off the wall of white tile. She had yet to face him.

"Probably. At least more than you'd like it to be true."

Your cryptic arrogance will not serve you here today, Shadowsinger.

Mor and I have never conversed easily. You know that. This is just how we are when we even bother to talk.

You can talk to her now.

Why? Because I found my mate? That seems pretty self-involved and shallow, even for me.

Because for the first time in five centuries, you only want from her that which she wants to give. Because you can accept that which she is offering to you, without wishing for it to be everything you need from another.

And what is it that she is offering to me?

Ask her.

"Why did you ask me to meet you here, Mor? Are we to sit in the afternoon sun, drinking coffee and reminiscing on our painful pasts." She finally turned. Mor's eyes were sober and her voice disarmingly low.

"I have hurt you. Haven't I, Az.?"

"I used you to hurt myself. It is different. But don't start yet. We haven't even sat down. I haven't tasted the coffee." Azriel took the tray from her hands and crossed gracefully through the doorway and into the garden. The dappled sunlight and gentle breeze calmed his tongue, and Azriel set about pouring them each a cup.

"You seem oddly relaxed, Az."

"I've had an interesting day."

"With Gwyn?"

"Yes. And then a meeting with Rhys and Cassian."

"Those haven't been very relaxing of late."

"He was right though. I just didn't want to see it."

"It is one of his more annoying habits." Her smile was genuine as she continued. "You and Gwyn are quite stunning together. There is something very smoldering about the two of you." Azriel knew too well what Mor considered smoldering and something about the observation being applied to Gwyn irked him.

"I tried to take things as slowly as we could. I never want to frighten her or pressure her into anything she isn't ready for doing. You were there."

"I don't think you have, Az. I didn't mean it like that. I may have felt that your attention was perhaps one-dimensional and that your attention on Elain perhaps condescending. Gwyn is different. We all know that Gwyn is different."

"Gwyn has helped me understand a lot about myself. She has taught me to hate what happened to me, but not myself. To hate those things that just masked the pain and may have made it worse."

"Was I one of those things? Did I make it worse? Is that what you're saying?"

"I don't know how to answer that, Mor. That's complicated." She fumed visibly and an awkward silence stretched between them.

"I am not your victim here, but neither are you mine. You're responsible for handling your own baggage, whatever you decided to do or not do because of your feelings, is completely on you."

"True. Is that why you invited me here today? To tell me to own my shit? Look..." Azriel pitched forward. "Gwyn has helped me a lot. I may be responsible for my own decisions, but not necessarily your reaction to them. By your logic, that is on you." Mor huffed and looked away from him. Azriel sat back and studied her.

"Did you tell Feyre that you were afraid of me?"

"Shit." Mor's eyes flashed. "Did everyone's favorite little garden gnome tell you that?"

"Don't call her that. She has done nothing to you."

"That's right. That's her deal, isn't it? She's done nothing to anyone."

"The King of Hybern would disagree with you if he could." Azriel took a moment to drink his coffee. "But he can't."

"Fair enough." Eventually, Mor smirked. "I just find her so unbelievably dull, Az. She's like watching paint dry."

"And you cannot abide dull."

"Look. I didn't come here to fight and I'm not afraid of you. Not exactly."

"You're in charge of the Hewn City. You are The Morrigan. I'm not even sure I could take you in a fair fight." Her eyes met his finally. "So what part of you feels something that is not exactly, but sort of like fear."

"I've seen what you were willing to do in my name. That terrified me."

"Why?" Mor looked away at his scoff and his question. "No. Tell me. We are family, right? Through thick and thin and to the fucking end? So. Tell me. What about my protecting you or avenging you was terrifying. You know that I would never hurt you."

"I know what it means when an Illyrian male fights for a female in that way. When he kills for her honor."

"Oh. So, I'm to be an Illyrian male now. That is not fair, Mor."

"Neither is acting like it is your place. My virtue is not yours to protect. You own no part of me, Azriel."

"I wish…"

"What? What do you wish?" She spat the words at him.

"I wish Gwyn was here. I'm sure you're right. I can feel the truth in what you're saying, but it still confuses me. Gwyn would know how to explain it all to me." Azriel sat back exasperated, but he smiled at her. Her anger evaporated at his open modesty.

"You ARE an Illyrian male, Az. I don't say that with the insult your ears hear. You need to see that. You need to figure that shit out. Cassian has. Rhys has. You can." He nodded but looked away stricken. The awkward silence returned.

"I did owe you better than to just walk away to keep you from telling me what you felt for me. I should have been able to hear it from you. As your friend, I should have let you say it."

"I did love you, Mor. Can you hear it now?"

"I can. And I love you too, Cousin." She winked and Azriel was floored by the accuracy and promise in that one word.

"I owed you better than to put you on a pedestal."

"Let's not be hasty. I look good on a pedestal or you used to think so." She winked again.

"See. That shit right there. It's what you do with Cassian. You're only doing it now, with me, because it feels safe." Mor scoffed, but Azriel continued.

"I loved you, but I made you the female I loved instead of the female you are. I am sorry."

"Shit. She's good."

"You have no idea. You should talk to her actually."

"She doesn't hate me because I'm a terrible flirt? Nesta hates me."

"Nesta will break your fingers if you don't learn to keep them to yourself. Gwyn is more subtle. She'd give you enough rope and see to it that you hang yourself with it. Neither hates you."

"I can see why the Cauldron gave one to Cassian and one to you."

"They aren't gifts." She nodded.

Our Mate would be proud.

Gwyn was always proud of me.

Exactly so.

And now I can be too.

"I do think you ultimately paid the higher price for letting your feelings for me fester. I'm glad that part is over, Az."

"And you've paid the cost for hiding from your family. Is that part over, Mor?"

"I hope so."

"Starting today. Can we be a real family? Have a real friendship? Something we can build on?"

"I know so." Her voice broke with unshed tears.

***

Azriel's trip took him through the human lands without incident. He was returning for the night, eager to make it for dinner. His spies had all checked in with little of merit to report. His heart ached to be back with Gwyn, but his mind still spun from the heaviness of the day. So much felt like it had changed since the sun rose this morning.

Archers! You've been spotted. Ash! Climb higher. Bank hard right. Hard right! Look out!

An arrow sliced open his left cheek and the stench of ash and blood filled his nose. A few more ripped through his wings before he was out of range. Azriel reached up with a shaky hand and fingered bits of wood splintered into his face from the wound.

Are there more?

Azriel heard the sound of powerful wingbeats and the slight whistle of air through the holes torn in his wings. He heard the roaring of blood in his ears. He heard nothing else.

I need to know if there are more archers?

The world was all wind, whistling, and roaring blood.

Shit.

Azriel clambered and was relieved to see shadows trailing along his body and fighting against the wind at his sides. A few moved frantically near his ears, but he heard nothing of their warnings or their directions. He climbed higher until the air thinned painfully and his lungs burned. He had felt this alone before.

He was far from safety as he flew. He was far from his home. He was far from his Gwyn. An idea took root in the pain and twisted his gut. It was possible that he would never hear her laugh again. That he would never again bury himself inside the heat of her body. If he died from this arrow, he would never hold their children, never see their hair spark in the sunlight. His chest erupted with a resilient fury and light parted shadow.

Azriel's injured wings dripped blood onto his back and into his already wet eyes. They pressed harder against the current, alight with urgency and need. He knew that the bond would direct him somehow to the current that would drag him in the right direction. He'd have to glide, a shadowed albatross, keening his way home.

The pavement shocked his feet as he landed awkwardly in a crowded street of Velaris. Dizziness rocked his brain, equal parts from exertion and relief. Azriel glanced around briefly out of habit, but the bond pulled his steady march toward his mate. Both golden compass and primal call.

Despite the intensity of his presence, the crowd was slow to part. Azriel shook his head once in annoyance. At the gesture, shadows galloped unrestrained before him, and the street cleared at their compassionate urgency. His pace quickened. Trash cans and benches slid aside, and an ill-place cherry tree was uprooted with shadowed hands. Azriel barely registered the chaos as his body moved toward hers. His face did mark one in the crowd, as Emina offered a knowing smart and a slight nod.

The doors to the River House were already open when he arrived. A vase hung in midair, while paper scattered to the floor. Voices reached him from the dining room. Dinner. He was late for dinner.

"Why would he eat there?"

Feyre.

"He seems to enjoy eating in… private."

Rhys.

"You don't say? Interesting information. I don't remember that."

Cassian.

"Missing something."

Elain. Where is my Gwyn?

Azriel could hear her heart beating with his. He could smell her, water lily and the charged air before a hard rain. He smelled it in her hair and on her skin. He smelled it now. She must be close.

The dining room doors blew open on a wave of frantic shadows.

"It can be tedious. Ash arrow. Bond snapped."

Amren.

Azriel just stared ahead at Gwyn trying to drink her into himself with his eyes. His breath was shallow, but he managed a nod. Already forgetting why he was doing it. The pull between them felt so unbelievably natural and right that he had no room left for fear. Not anymore.

"Don't jump her in the middle of dinner. Some beast. Someplace nice. Devour her in private."

"All due respect, Amren. You do not speak for me." Gwyn took a steadying breath in through her delicate nose and her chest heaved. "The Shadowsinger and I are going to need this room." Watching Gwyn flexing an authority that she rarely flaunted had sparked him with a purely carnal need. Her eyes held his as she spoke and bodies retreated at her command. "Now, Rhys."

Murmuring. Feyre giggles. Nesta's dry humor. "Hole in the wall shaped like Gwyn's ass."

Very good idea.

"You're hurt, Az."

"I'm alive, Gwyn."

"I noticed that too. Should I call for Madja?"

"Not unless you want her to watch us fuck."

"Is that what's about to happen here?"

"If you'll have me."

"Once I'm convinced you don't need a healer, I will have you right here."

"The only healing I need is you, Gwyn."

She smiled back at him and offered a firm nod. Table legs scratched against the floor as shadows hauled it against the far wall, and they both smiled. Azriel surged forward through the void and saw her chest heave with a gasp. He spared one moment to see that she was not afraid before his mouth caught hers in a searing kiss. He continued to press until her back was flush to the wall and his aching cock firm against her stomach.

The sweet taste of Gwyn on his tongue was intoxicating. She wrapped a leg suggestively around his hip and looped an arm around his neck. Azriel bent slightly to capture her other leg and lift her to him, pinning her to the wall. Both groaned into the kiss, as his cock met her core through thin scraps of clothing. Gwyn angled her head back to look into his face. She sighed briefly when she removed a few splinters with long, gentle fingers.

"Better?"

"Much." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I see you, Gwyn."

"And I see you, Az." She smiled sweetly before her eyes sparked with mischief. "Now…" She nipped at his earlobe. "Let me hear your roar, Shadowsinger."

Gwyn bent her knees and hiked them up under his arms, before reaching around to press him by the ass against her throbbing core. She bit into his neck and his curse flew into her hair. Azriel reached down through what little space lay between their bodies and made quick work of his laces and her panties.

The mingled scent of arousal filled his nose and his eyes drifted shut with blinding, raw need. Gwyn's nails dug into the flesh of his ass and his eyes flew open at the delicious bite of pain. Her face was a portrait of female satisfaction.

Azriel snarled and Gwyn offered him a perfect laugh. She pulled harder until he was fully sheathed inside her and they both stilled at her deep grunt. She nodded again. Her mouth parted in short bursts of excited shouts, as Azriel slammed relentlessly deep into his mate. He groaned loudly as he felt her internal walls clenching tightly around his cock. She was milking him expectantly for every bit of seed that he needed desperately to pump inside her. Azriel came hard and gave her the roar that she had asked of him.

A roar that he had been saving just for her.

"You two cannot keep training with the rest of us."

Cassian dropped into the empty chair across from Azriel and helped himself to a snort of his brother's coffee.

"Good morning and why not?"

You know why not.

Let's let him say it, shall we?

"It is a logistics nightmare. It's only been a few days, but if I keep Gwyn in her normal group with Nesta and Emerie, she spends the whole time undressing you with her damn eyes. Don't smile at me like that. Emerie nearly took her head off with a practice sword yesterday."

"I can talk to Gwyn."

That sword would never have reached her beautiful head. Talking to her will do no good. You've done enough talking. It isn't talking she wants.

"And say what? You're no better. I gave you two new recruits to work with yesterday."

"And? They did great."

"They were abysmal and you don't even know their names."

Any help here?

The recruits are not Our Mate. The recruits are not a threat to Our Mate. Try something short. Something with a "C".

"Carol?"

"Nobody is named Carol."

"Cathy?"

"Afraid not."

"Look. This isn't my fault. You know what the bond is like at first. I just see Gwyn."

"It wasn't so long ago that I don't remember what it's like. It's worse for Illyrians and I AM happy for you, Az."

I'm not really an Illyrian.

That makes your wings particularly impressive.

Fuck you.

"She and I can train together."

Yes!

"No."

"I've trained with Gwyn plenty so far."

"Yeah. Alone, but already I have to make sure you're both downwind of the rest or Roslyn starts to get all weepy. It is a mess, Az."

Let the spiteful one weep.

"I think Gwyn kinda likes that part, but she is just too nice to say it out loud." Azriel smiled fondly.

Our Mate is the best of all of us.

Not hard. You guys are fucking ruthless.

"Maybe to you, I heard her bragging to Nesta about it the other day."

"Really?"

Really. Our Mate enjoys the mating bond. Strong Brother is eyeing your toast. You need to keep up your strength.

"Yeah. Don't look so proud. Apparently, Rosyln is a bit of a snot." Cassian reached for Azriel's toast and got his hand swatted for good measure. "Look. I thought this could wait until she accepts the bond… Don't look at me like that! She's going to accept it."

"I hope so."

Our Mate loves us. She will bind her soul to us for the rest of time.

"She will. Until then, it's fucking ridiculous. I mean.. Congrats and all, but you see my point?"

"I do." Azriel sat back in his chair. "We've been trying to go slow. We don't want to overwhelm her right away. The touching though. Gwyn thinks it is connected to her nymph heritage somehow."

Our Mate is perfection. Her touch is perfection. She is brave. She is strong. You know this. She approaches the training ring. Finish eating. Go to her.

Go now.

Done.

"Cauldron blessed. That's what you are, brother. There is no doubt."

"Message received. We will keep it professional and starting tomorrow, we will train separately."

"Thanks." Cassian rose from the table. "I was working with her before on some of my favorite releases."

"You have one favorite. I don't know why you're so mysterious about it. It is one move. I can make sure she doesn't forget. Adding in a few of my own that we have been working on. She won't lose ground. We all know threats still face our court."

"Cheerful, Az. Very cheerful." Cassian glanced around as if noticing the missing shadows for the first time. "Have your shadows learned anything useful?"

"The strongest contingent's at the edge of their range guarding our perimeter."

"And the ones around Gwyn?"

"A sizable strength of shadows stay with her always. I can't stop them."

"And you?"

"The ones left with me are lovesick fools, but I'm certain they would help defend me."

"I envy you and your shadows sometimes, brother. Maybe now you understand. A mate is a wonderful thing. Wonderful and terrifying. With all the threats, sometimes I wonder what we are doing."

"We will not lose them, Cass. Them and anyone else who comes along. You have my word."

***

Waves of shadow undulated against Gwyn's ankles as she glided across the training ring. Her eyes tracked his every move.

"Ready for a little bit of light sparing, Shadowsinger?" She circled him.

"I think you might have that title by now, Sweetheart." Azriel nodded to the shadows.

"I'm not the one who can hear them sing, Az."

Not yet.

What?!

Despite a slightly stunned start, Azriel eventually pinned her to the mat. His knees bracketed her waist and his firm grip pressed both shoulders. He'd caught the shadows trying to help her, but they scattered at her frustrated snarl. Azriel wanted to take her angry pout between his teeth and a cocky grin broke across his face.

"Feels like just yesterday I was telling Az he'd love rutting in the dirt with his mate." Azriel could hear Cassian's reminiscing.

"They aren't rutting exactly."

"Damn near close." Cassian turned to his mate. "He's clearly won.. so pay up."

"I still can't believe you bet against a beautifully fit Illyrian male in hand-to-hand combat just days after the mating bond snapped." Emerie didn't sound disgusted at all.

"You hate Illyrian males," Nesta spoke his thoughts into the air.

"Shitty ones. Not these two. They are the best of us. Them and Rhysand."

Money changed hands, but Emerie's words rang louder in his heart than the coin. Gwyn was clearly done and he'd meant to let her up. Physically, there was just no way someone her size could get out of this hold. He let his mind wander. Could Emerie really be proud to share her heritage with someone like him? He had never felt this Illyrian without being gutted at the thought.

You're about to hurt plenty.

What?!

Gwyn's non-dominant hand darted across her body with impossible quickness. Her fingers locked around the thickness of his wrist. She didn't try to sweep it outward, as he first expected. The shadows bubbled with joy as Gwyn pressed him down into her shoulder. Effectively, locking it into place. She swept her thumb across the delicate skin inside his wrist. Her eyes softened and a shudder passed through the length of his entire body. His blood hummed.

She planted her feet firmly into the ground. Her powerful hips surged upward into his lower body. The sheer force of her hips pitched his weight, already top-heavy from centuries of upper body training, onto his hands. It would just take a second to correct the imbalance, but Gwyn didn't give him a second. She pulled his wrist back across her body instead of pushing it outward. This move had Cassian written all over it.

She would use the momentum to try to knock his elbow out from under him. No way she gets enough momentum with his arm fighting against her non-dominant hand. Even if she did, it would only topple him onto her own face. She was still lying prone beneath him. Then, she wasn't.

Gwyn had rolled lightly onto her side and used her free hand to pound mercilessly into the inside of his bracing elbow. She shouldn't even be able to reach it from that position. Azriel started to pitch face first and sideways. She was only holding him by the wrist. It wouldn't be that hard to break her hold and roll to his feet. Then he felt her leg swing up and wrap around his neck.

Gwyn clutched his wrist up between her breasts and clamped her thighs around his neck. He felt the twist of her ankles clasping behind his head. In this position, he had no leverage whatsoever. He may have underestimated her flexibility and ingenuity, but he knew her strength. She could hold him here all day if she wanted.

"We've all been there." Cassian offered. Mor snickered.

"You mean pinned under Azriel or trapped between Gwyn's powerful thighs."

"When you put it that way, I think I'd rather the first. Although I have been trapped between MY mates' lovely thighs on many occasions." Azriel could feel Nesta smiling at her mate.

He may have no leverage to move her in this position, but he had access. Scenting his mate awoke a hunger in Azriel and he grinned madly. He turned his head into the tight space her thighs allowed him and sunk his teeth into Gwyn's leather-clad groin. He expected a howl. What came out of her mouth instead was the most beautifully sensual moan he had ever experienced. Her hands clutched through his hair. The pain nearly finished him.

"Can't say I've done that though," Cassian admitted as the feral mates writhed in their combined sweat on the mat.

"We should probably leave them alone." Nesta offered. He didn't hear her move to leave. On his next deep inhale, he detected a hint of her arousal.

"Are you sure that Gwyn is comfortable? Maybe we should step in. This is getting pretty intense."

Mor stepped closer. The moment her foot hit the mat, the guttural snarl that rumbled across the ring shocked him. Gwyn locked eyes on the female openly suggesting that she'd try to separate Gwyn from her mate.

She released Az in one fluid movement and spun with intoxicating speed onto all fours. She placed herself firmly between him and Mor. Gwyn sniffed the air as the hint of Mor's fear and confusion mingled with a varied bouquet of arousal. Gwyn loosed a pleased chuckle at Mor's retreat, but her whole body was still taut with concentration and control. As a lioness poised to pounce, Gwyn lowered her head and cocked it appraisingly.

Azriel had never seen Mor look more startled, while he had never been more aroused. Azriel took Gwyn's calves in both his hands and dragged her athletic form back beneath his own. He would never consider pinning Gwyn onto her stomach, but he slowly climbed her body until his mouth met her ear.

"Keep your focus on your opponent, Dearest." Azriel purred his warning with raw need.

"Keep your face in my crotch and we won't have a problem with focus, Sweetheart."

What his mate did next was extraordinary. She giggled. They grappled in dust and sweat, thrashing on the ground, soaked in their own arousal, as everyone looked on, and Gwyn giggled her delight. She was happy. Being here, just like that, with him made her happy.

Our Mate wants more and she wants it now.

The shadows pulled, but it was The House that winnowed them instinctually onto the center of Gwyn's massive bed. Azriel had never been in her bed and he watched with satisfaction as her grin spread across her face and her hands ripped at her own clothes.

"Naked. Now."

Gwyn panted up at him. Azriel faced the headboard on his knees at her feet. Gwyn sprawled before him, her feet dancing playfully against his thighs. The intensity in their eyes spurred them on. Fevered laughter punctuated the grunts and feral groans echoing through her chamber.

Azriel removed the last of his clothes and knelt again at her feet. His wings stretched to aching, filling the room beyond the bed. The muscles of his body flexed, poised to pounce at the beckoning of his mate. His cock stood impossibly hard and ready to be coated in her warmth and pleasure.

"Stop." Gwyn placed a foot on his chest and Azriel froze at her command. "Let me look at you."

In front of any other soul, Azriel would have felt himself a preening peacock and refused. But it was Gwyn's eyes that roamed his body. The body that he had forged into a weapon. The body that he had offered in service of his lovers and his Court. She looked upon him and he felt beautiful.

"Take me. Just like this. Let me see your wings. Let me see you. Is that possible?" Azriel growled as he grabbed his mate by the thighs and dragged her giggling form to meet his crotch. As she slid closer, her stunning copper hair fanned across the sheet and her arms splayed wide across the bed in languid invitation. She was completely at his mercy and him hers.

Shadows eddied across their periphery. Gwyn turned to watch them for a moment before dragging a hooked finger through a particularly dense wisp. He watched her shudder at the sensation and felt it trickle up his own spine. She brought it to her face with a mischievous hunger she usually reserved for a dollop of whipped cream swiped from the bowl. She began whispering.

What is happening?

You'll see.

The mass of shadows approached the bed and slid along her ribs. One circled a pert nipple, but Gwyn batted it away.

"Oh. Do behave."

Azriel watched as shadows wedged under her lower back and arched her core invitingly up to meet him. They twined around his thighs and lapped at his calves. Azriel brought her legs up to his face and draped one over each shoulder before sliding his hands down the length of them to clutch her tightly by the hips. The shadows played against his fingers and along her body.

"You can keep your feet here or brace them flat against the front of my shoulders. In that position, you can push me away if I get too rough." She smirked at his suggestion and placed her feet flat against his chest. "It will also keep my body from collapsing on top of you, no matter how hard I thrust." Gwyn skimmed one cheek against the sheet and her arms slipped gracefully across the bed with an indolent need to just move and feel touch on all of her skin. She arched her back slowly in clear hunger. "I may be a feral beast, but I'm yours to command."

"Then take me now. Show me the beast, Az." At her words, Azriel splayed his fingers across her lower belly and dipped a thumb between her thighs. She was drenched and swollen with need. He thrust into her slowly in one unrelenting push until he was buried to the hilt. There he waited.

"Move. Now."

Azriel started to move, picking up speed as he watched her unravel and as his own need grew. As he tilted her hips to hit the deepest part of her, they both screamed. Why couldn't he get close enough? Why couldn't he get enough? He needed more of her.

At the thought, Gwyn slid her feet from his shoulders and locked her ankles together in front of his face. She bent her knees to her chest and his body followed. He slid forward above her and pressed harder into her. They both stopped breathing.

"Give me your wings, Az."

Shock froze his features, but he knew he wanted this. He wanted her to touch him everywhere. He needed her to touch him everywhere, even along his Illyrian wings. Azriel braced himself above her on the bed with powerful talons bracketing her head and pressing deep into the mattress. He knew he could push her knees further to her chest and bring their faces together, but he wanted her to watch him love her. He hiked her crossed ankles over one shoulder and closer into the crook of his neck. Their eyes never parted. Azriel ran his hands lightly down the front of her thighs as he thrust deep into her pussy. She groaned deliciously. He ran his tongue down one powerful leg and nipped at her skin. She smiled knowingly.

Gwyn brought her hands nearly to her face as she slid their backs along the massive tendons that supported each wing. She followed the path back down with her hands, as she turned her face to the side. She licked and nipped at his wing. Azriel thumbed her clit in desperation. He needed to feel her pleasure grab his cock before he lost himself entirely.

"I won't last like this. I'm gonna come so hard inside you, babe." At his promise, Gwyn's muscles tighten around him and he felt her body reach her release. She was still panting deeply into the delicate membrane of his wing as Azriel spilled everything he had deep inside his mate.

Gwyn slid her knees apart and let them fall outward. His body slid sideways against hers in a heap of sweaty tanned skin and twitching wings. Azriel tried to clear his head and chuckled at the sheer impossibility. Gwyn chuckled back and ran the back of her hand along his cheek.

"I think I'd enjoy getting you into a nice, pretty leash, Az."

"I think you already have, Gwyn."

"So. We're to stay at the Townhouse then?" Gwyn scrunched her brow in what Azriel initially took to be confusion. Perhaps concern? At least her expression held none of the fear that Azriel had dreaded when he practiced this conversation earlier in the mirror.

Suspicion?

Suspicion.

"Only if you want. You don't have to move there, Gwyn. You never have to leave here."

She looked out across the wide view offered by their favorite balcony. Azriel moved closer to stand behind her and felt when her gaze snagged on the River House. When she didn't immediately respond, Azriel took the moment to rub his hands slowly down the feminine curve to her upper arms. She melted back into his chest.

"What do you think Rhys is up to?"

"For once, I think he's just trying to be helpful. It's a good offer. It would give us more privacy."

Gwyn's head shot up in alarm at his words and she spun on him. "Do you think Nesta had the nerve to complain about us?"

"Oh. I don't see how she could. They have no room to complain about us, Gwyn."

Disappointment.

Disappointment.

"But." He drew out the word. "If your competitive little heart is set on besting them, I'm happy to hold off the move until tomorrow and throw ourselves into the effort later tonight."

"Thank you. You're really very sweet. I'm fine coming in second in this." Gwyn blushed beautifully.

"I know in my heart that we're just as… Wait! We're to move today?"

"As I said, you don't have to move at all, if you don't want to."

"You keep saying that I DON'T have to move. So. You're moving. You've decided."

Tell her. Our Mate will understand. You are not wrong. Our Mate smells lovely. We should be alone. Nearly always.

"I would like to move into town. I will be moving some of my office things down today to set up shop down there. I'll still be up here for training every day unless I'm gone on a mission. I'll still have a room at the House of Wind. Nesta promised me I'd always have a home here, and I know she'll say the same to you."

"But." Her eyes narrowed. "You want to be at the Townhouse." The wind blew her hair across her face, but her gaze never wavered.

"I do." There it was. "The space is really beautiful. And it is just sitting empty." Pain pinched his features and Azriel looked over her head toward Velaris. "I was inspired the last time I was there. Life should be in that house always. We could be that life. At least for now."

"At least for now? Tell me what that means." Her voice was gentle, but it wasn't a question.

"It means that I think this is a good first step. For us. But if you're not ready, I understand and it can wait. I can wait." He took both her hands between his own. "Look. I sleep wherever you tell me to sleep and just pray it's next to you." She smiled. "I would like to start spending time in town. Away from the House of Wind. Someplace that feels more private. But, only if that feels like the right call for you. My place is with you."

"Show me." Gwyn slid an arm around his neck readying herself for the air.

"Show you the house? Now?"

"Yes. Take me there. Walk me through it. Let me see what you see. Then I can answer you."

"That's it. Just like that. You'll go look at it with me?"

"You're clearly inspired, Az. I want to say yes. Of course, I do. That was a beautiful speech." Her eyes darted around above his shoulders with affection. "Did the shadows help you with it?"

"No. They did not!"

Lies.

"Encouragement doesn't count as help."

"Are you telling me?" Her smirk was sublime. "Or are you arguing with them out loud now?"

"Was it truly? I said that out loud?"

Yes

"Yes."

"Fascinating." Azriel pulled back to smile at her. "I haven't done that since I was a kid. Maybe not ever, come to think of it. I guess that means you've gotten into my head, Priestess."

"Or you're out of yours." Gwyn beamed up at him. Azriel chuckled and pulled her closer to his chest.

"Now show me this townhouse that's got you waxing poetic. Then I can tell you if I'm ready to move." Her body stiffened and her tone sobered. "I just won't know until I'm there. We need to see how I react. How my body reacts." She gave herself a quick nod. "I've been much better on my trips into town though. This could be the right move for both of us. Knowing Rhys, I assume there is an obnoxious master suite with toilets that clean your backside for you."

"They are normal toilets unless he has been holding out on us for centuries." Azriel shrugged considering. "We can share the suite or I can have my old room down the hall."

"Not this again?"

"It is always your choice when you want us to share a bed and when you don't. That might feel easier if the room is yours alone."

"Oh. Get over yourself. I'm your mate. You are mine. I'm ready to share a suite." Azriel smiled and shook his head to clear the disbelief. "I'm not going to have you waiting in the hall every night for an invitation like a stray dog barking to come in out of the rain."

"I don't bark." Something heated passed between them. "It has a small sitting area and a reading alcove that I know you'll enjoy." The silly grin felt odd across his face. "I've never stayed in there myself, but the rooms feel spacious."

"Ok. Now. Shut your gabbing and show me already, Shadowsinger." Gwyn hopped her feet impatiently and aimed her face toward his neck. On her third hop, Azriel caught her behind both knees and leaped into the sky.

The flight was quiet and shorter than he remembered. As they landed just down the street, Azriel realized that he wasn't remotely prepared for this moment. Instinct had him reaching for her hand, both shocked at the sweat-slicked across his palm. He wanted this. A part of him needed it and the unfamiliarity of admitting, of actually asking, chafed.

Gwyn explored silently and his apprehension grew. The shadows seemed to agree with him and trailed behind her in quiet expectation. She gasped as she reached the kitchen.

Velaris seemed to be working in Azriel's favor. Shafts of sunlight cast through leaves and glass alike to mottle the white marble in dancing shades of green and gold. Her fingers skimmed through the light on the waist-high kitchen island and she chuckled when she took in the delicate wrought iron table just past the doors to the garden.

"We would eat out there?"

"Or on tall stools at this island. Depending on the weather."

Gwyn strode into the garden giggling at the tinkle of a tiny fountain in the near corner. She moved closer and her eyes surveyed the surrounding flagstone. "How long has this been there?"

"I had it installed this morning."

"Not playing fair are you?"

"Not even for a moment."

She brushed his arm as she passed on her way to wander up the wide stairs. Azriel let her explore on her own for a few moments. He filled his lungs with the lush air and let the sound of the water calm him.

"Well. The toilets appear normal." She announced loudly as she descended. "Although, it seems that Rhys did clear away a few shelves in the reading nook just for me."

"I read."

"He labeled them alphabetically with Self-Help, Smut, Sparring, and Spirituality in his most pompous calligraphy.

"Should I tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"That those are actually all the same thing?"

"Oh. Wow." Her arm snaked up to his neck as she lifted onto her toes. "That's good. I can see why I'm so in love with you."

"And I, with you." He kissed the pert tip of her nose. "Madly in love."

"Good. You should be. I'm outstanding. Plus, it would make sharing the suite a bit awkward, if you weren't."

"Seriously? I should tell Rhys that we are moving?"

"Yes. Tell him to get his butt up there and help us with our stuff."

By the time they arrived, the House of Wind had packed all of Azriel's belongings into a few neat boxes placed conveniently near the door. "Yay! That's so sweet. The House packed for us." Gwyn squealed.

"Nope." Nesta was busy sweating across the living room. "The House packed for Azriel."

"Of course." He groaned.

"When I noticed your room was untouched, I started to work on it myself. The HOUSE," she shouted, "… got testy."

Nesta continued in the face of their clear confusion. "It keeps putting your stuff back. That's when Cassian got all emotional and blubbery. He left me to deal with the House on my own."

"We saw him sparring with Rhys as we flew in." Azriel watched out the window at his brothers.

"Yeah." Nesta nodded. "I'm actually really glad Rhys was here. For once." She chuckled.

"I'm just going to the Townhouse." Gwyn was speaking gently to the House as she made circles around the room. "I'll be back all the time. For training. For services. And lunches." Gwyn's lip trembled and the shadows swirled in agitation around her.

Fix it. Hurry. It won't listen to us either.

I am.

"Let me try something," Azriel whispered, kissing Gwyn's reddening cheek. "If you make this easy on Gwyn today… I will make you a deal." An odd sensation passed through him and he knew the House was listening. "I promise to happily transport Gwyn up here for sleepovers as often as she asks to attend them."

At his words, a small set of wings appeared on the inside of each of his wrists. He had made a bargain with a house. Azriel sighed, but two small boxes appeared next to his own. "Thank you." He turned to Gwyn. "Rhys and I can winnow these down and still have time to clean up before family dinner."

As they entered the dining room at the River House later that evening, Azriel felt exhausted but content. Everyone was busy finding seats around the table. Nesta and Cassian were at one end across from chairs that Az had come to think of as his and Gwyn's. Rhys surprised everyone when he walked right past his distinguished captain's chair at the head of the table to take the seat just to

Gwyn's right. Azriel smiled at the friendly gesture.

Emerie missed nothing and elbowed Cassian painfully as changed course to take the seat to his brother's left. She raised a brow in mock challenge at Rhys as she slid to eye level across the table from him. Mor slipped into the spot just to Emerie's left and Feyre stifled a girlish giggle that lifted his heart. His High Lady regained her composure and took the last spot on their end, just to the right of her mate.

The table felt informal and comfortable in a way that dinner had not felt in a long while. Azriel noticed that even Nesta unfolded her napkin with an easy smile he usually only saw in the House. Something seemed to occur to Emerie and she glanced quickly around the room. "Is Lucien taking up the head of the table or did Feyre invite more eligible bachelors from her art class?"

"I'm never gonna live that down, am I?"

"No, darling. You're not." Rhys brushed a kiss across the knuckles of her left hand with what Azriel was sure was a suggestive wink.

"And is Elain joining us? Is that her seat now?" Emerie's eyes twinkled with mirth as she pointed her fork to Rhysand's usual spot.

"Lucien is visiting the Day Court," Gwyn spoke before thinking. Her back stiffened slightly though her voice had been calm and her tone even. She drank a quick bit of wine a little nervously and wasn't making eye contact with anyone.

Lady Death watches closely.

No shit. Gwyn will talk to them about her family when she's ready.

Our Mate does nothing until she is ready. You could stand to remember that.

What does that mean?

Trust her.

"And Elain has decided to accompany him. They left this afternoon." Rhys offered by way of distraction. Azriel nearly choked on his wine, but it was Gwyn's voice that rose with surprise.

"She did what?!" All eyes landed on her once more. Nesta fumed.

"Let me get this straight. Lucien took his estranged mate to meet Helion, of all the High Lords in Prythian. He took her to Helion. And, in his own palace to boot? I thought foxes were supposed to be clever." Cassian chuckled his amusement.

"I wouldn't think Elain would be his type." Mor swirled the wine in her glass and grumbled.

"Everyone is Helion's type." Cassian continued with a mischievous eye for Azriel.

"Don't be rude." Gwyn chided, but Cassian continued.

"Why not?" Emerie snorted conspiratorially at his boorishness and Gwyn just rolled her eyes at the pair across the table.

"Anyway." Feyre was undeterred by their antics. "Elain has been very tight-lipped about it all. So. It was fairly surprising when she asked."

"Asked? She asked for your permission?" Nesta bristled at her little sister.

"Oh. Don't get a tone with me, Nesta. She offered to stay to help with Nyx. I told her that Rhys and I can manage things. It is about time we hire a governess anyway. He is a handful and with my duties to the court… We've relied on her generosity for long enough."

"Elain has been happy to help and I suspect she has enjoyed the distraction." Nesta opened her mouth, but Azriel continued. His voice was friendly though probably a bit professorial for Nesta's taste. "As much as you may hate it, and I know that you do, visiting another court, even an ally, is something that does need to be fully thought out and officially sanctioned by your High Lord and your High Lady. Particularly in this political climate. Rhys and Feyre must keep abreast of a litany of information and considerations that the rest of us are content to just ignore."

Nesta huffed. "So. Were you consulted before my sister was ALLOWED to leave with him?"

"I'm not a diplomat, nor am I a travel agent." His scoff was admittedly mocking, but that end of the table sparkled with their dry sort of humor that he knew they both enjoyed. "I'm a spy, Nesta. Oh…"

Azriel leaned down the table toward Feyre. "Unless Elain going to spy for me while she's there? Then I'm pissed I wasn't consulted."

"I'm sure she will be happy to fill you in on anything she learned while there, Az." Rhys nodded and Cassian and Emerie sputtered on their wine and the obvious innuendo.

"I love my sister, but she would make a terrible spy. She is not the most observant." Feyre offered and Nesta smiled affectionately. "When she doesn't have her nose in some book these days, she has been orchestrating these elaborate high teas for Lucien. It is all very bizarre."

"Orchestrate? You make it sound so sinister, darling." Rhys chided. "And what's bizarre about tea?"

"Not tea. High tea. Plus, she can't offer him any food, so she just scurries around after the twins tsking orders and rearranging the cups and table settings without warning. I swear I heard her begging Cerridwen to make crumpets, jam, and something called apple butter the other day."

"Now you're making her sound less sinister and more like some silly little dormouse. You're not being fair, darling. He is her mate and she is making an effort. Honestly, I've been very impressed and happy for both of them."

"What is a crumpet?" Cassian whispered to Emerie, who just shrugged.

"I just mean that she is all very formal and nervous about it. I thought she hated him."

"She did." Nesta offered.

"And now she doesn't?" Feyre seemed relieved to have her sister's opinion on the matter.

"Guess not, if she's going on a trip with him." Nesta shrugged before taking a delicate sip of her sparkling water with lemon. "To another court."

"To most likely be seduced by Helion," Cassian added and again Emerie snickered.

"Shouldn't we be separating these two?" Gwyn asked as she pointed her fork across the table to Cassian and Emerie who bounced quietly in their seats with laughter.

"Helion is a good male." Azriel offered.

"Who really likes to have sex with new and interesting people." Cassian offered as a given fact.

"Elain isn't interesting," Mor grumbled and Azriel had finally reached his limit.

"She is Cauldron made and killed the King of Hybern. Don't be petty, Mor."

"I did help a little with that if anyone wants to recall." Nesta mock whispered across the table and Cassian gave his mate a proud wink.

"Yeah. Well done, Nes. Thanks." Azriel offered her his open palm in congratulations and she slapped it hard with a coy smile.

"Can we talk about something else? Please. Anything else."

"Sorry, Gwynie. I didn't mean to be crass."

"No way you're sorry and of course you meant to be crass." Gwyn smiled back at him and her discomfort from earlier seemed to ease.

"She's right! On both counts." Cassian shrugged and the table shared a laugh.

"So. How are you liking the townhouse?" Emerie offered to Gwyn. "Isn't the garden stunning?"

"Oh. You've been?" Emerie froze at Gwyn's question and Mor turned in her chair with sudden and rapt attention as Emerie seemed to be thinking hard about how to respond.

"It's right down the street from Rita's. We've all crashed there a time or two." Azriel offered and Emerie wilted with visible relief.

Well. She'll never be a spy.

Fair.

Mor looks disappointed at her reluctance.

Her Mistress Morrigan is done hiding.

Good for her.

"Really? Well. You're still free to crash anytime, Em." Mor barely concealed her amusement at the potential logistics of Gwyn's offer. "Maybe we can join you at Rita's for a drink soon."

"You'd be up for that?" Emerie beamed.

"I think so. If it is close. Right?" Gwyn looked to Azriel, but it was Mor who responded with what sounded like heartfelt support.

"If we pick the right night, I'm sure you'd be comfortable. It can be really fun. It doesn't have to be a lot."

"Thanks. Excuse me." Gwyn rose from her seat and bent to whisper to Azriel. "There's a bathroom just down this hall, right?" He froze at her words.

"Um. Yeah." He actually stuttered.

His mind cast back to his first lust-filled dream of Gwyn. A vision of her body bent over that bathroom sink flashed through his mind. He saw flushed cheeks reflected in the mirror behind where her heated hands fogged the glass between her fingers. Arousal crashed into him at the thought of her round ass against his front. Gwyn gaped and Rhys turned suddenly toward him with open curiosity.

"Sorry." He muttered to Gwyn, who smirked her way out of the room.

"Something to share, brother?"

"Not with you."

"Then tell her. She may surprise you. Yet again."

"Have you always been such a nosy pervert?"

"I think what you mean to say is Thank You."

The couple halted briefly on the street before the River House and Azriel felt Gwyn balance against his arm. She removed one shoe slowly and then the next. They strolled easily through the puddles of faelight along the park, with her shoes dangling from her fingertips. Warm air full of fragrance collected along their skin and Azriel rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbow.

"And where do we turn now, love?" Azriel challenged and Gwyn pulled him left without hesitation as they reached the little cafe long closed. He unlocked the front door of the townhouse and drew her in for a hungry kiss. They stumbled across the threshold and Azriel was relieved to feel her hands reaching immediately for the buttons at the front of his dress pants.

The townhouse felt quiet with an unfamiliar intimacy settling between them. Even more intrusive than Cassian and Nesta's escapades or a dormitory full of priestesses, a sentient house was always listening. Tonight reminded him of their time alone in the Spring cabin, and he pressed her hard against the nearest bit of flat wall.

"Yes!" Gwyn hissed back at him. "Right here. Right now."

"I thought about this all through dinner."

"I know. I could feel it down the bond. You drove me absolutely insane." She nipped at the delicate spot below his ear. "Now shut up and fuck me, Az."

"Fair warning. There is no way that I'm gonna last…" The words caught in his throat as he found her bare beneath her dress.

"I took them off in the bathroom. I thought you might be joining me." Speechless, he pressed his cock into her hard.

"You'd like that, baby? You want me to fuck you in there?" Azriel was pumping frantically into his mate and Gwyn was coming around his cock in mere moments with a delicious scream. He followed quickly after her. He held her there until he felt her leg start to straighten from around his waist and heard her head fall gently back against the wall. Evidence of both their pleasure dripped warmth down the inside of her thigh and he wanted to run his tongue up to the source.

"I'm heading up for a bath." She kissed his cheek lightly. "Will you be taking your whiskey in the library or the garden tonight?

"The garden. How did you guess?"

"You're not that hard to figure. You always take a whiskey before bed. It is just a matter of whether you're in the mood for brooding with dusty books or in the open air. I figured the garden is the new balcony. Should I join you there when I'm done?"

"Sure. Would you like a drink for your bath?"

"Emina gave me a sleeping tonic to help for the first few nights. I probably shouldn't mix it on top of the little bit of wine at dinner."

"Okay. I'll be out here if you need me."

The moon was fully visible when she crawled sleepily into his lap a little while later. She tucked her knees up under one of his arms and he rubbed lazily down her shins. Gwyn nuzzled him along his neck with her nose. It was more playful than anything else. He could smell the sleeping tonic on her lips and her eyes seemed already heavy.

"Would you like to go to bed?"

"I'm fine. We'll go up in a minute. The air is nice out here."

"Do you still want to share the bed tonight?"

"Obviously."

"There is no obviously. Tell me where you want me and I am there."

"Fine. But you need to trust me to ask for space when I need it. Fair?"

"Apparently. I'm no expert when it comes to any of this." She chuckled. He opened his mouth to speak again, but she was already asleep against his body. Azriel carried her gently through the house. The shadows trailed along the floor as his bare feet churned lazy swirls with each step upward toward their room.

Her muffled groan woke him to the darkness. Gwyn thrashed heavily against his side. Both delicate fists bunched the soft blankets covering her crotch. Her body curled into the fetal position away from him and still she clutched the blankets against her core. She whimpered. Her brows furrowed in confused panic.

Azriel sighed heavily. He'd take this from her if he could. He stroked the skin along her upper arms first. He avoided her neck but cupped her shoulder affectionately. He brushed the hair away from her face. The shadows hovered silent but protective. They were ready to swarm her body at the slightest hint of command.

"It's just me, Gwyn. I've got you. These are my hands. Feel my scars. They are all dead and long gone, love. You're not in that kitchen anymore, Gwyn. It is just your Shadowsinger. I'm almost there to kill them all." His words were barely a whisper as he pulled her gently onto his lap and rocked her in a slow mesmerizing rhythm and hummed. He had done this before and he would do this again for as long as she needed.

Her sobs did not slow as before. Her heart pounded in her chest. A light sweat had started to form on her cold skin.

Why isn't this working?

Our Mate cannot hear your voice. Cannot understand your words. Cannot feel your hands. The sleeping tonic was strong. She will have no memory of this. She is safe. She is not being harmed.

How do I calm her though? How do I reach her?

You do not. We will sit with her.

I will not leave her. You cannot take her from me!

Flashes of his mother crossed his vision and Azriel pulled her closer. His grip around her tightened and Gwyn's cries grew. Azriel tried to clear his mind and loosen his grip. His hands began to shake with rage and remembered pain. He'd kill them all again for what they gave to Gwyn when they thought they were taking. He felt the fire lick across his hands. Bile rose in his throat.

You cannot stay here.

I will not leave her. I can hold her through this.

You cannot.

I have to.

You do not have to.

 

"Where are you, Az?"

"We are in the Townhouse."

"I heard you screaming."

"It was Gwyn."

"Is she okay?"

"Nightmare. I can't wake her, Rhys. Emina gave her a fucking tonic. She just won't stop screaming."

"It was you, Az. I heard you in my mind. Your scream, not Gwyn's. What is happening to you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Like hell, it doesn't. You have to get out of there. I can come to sit with her."

"Fuck no. If someone needs to sit with her, it will be me. It must be me. You have to understand that. I just keep seeing my mother, Rhys. Would it be any easier for you? Would you see them?"

"Shit."

"The shadows think I should let them take care of her."

"Let them, Az."

"No."

"It is what Gwyn would want. You know that, right? Did Emina give you a tonic?"

"No, just..."

"… just what, Az? Talk to me."

"An oil. It smells…"

"… smells like what, brother? What's it for?"

"It smells like water lilies. The night air. Just before a thunderstorm."

"It smells like your mate. It smells like your mate when she is truly happy."

"Yes. When she wins. At anything."

"And why did Emina think you might need it?"

"It makes me feel… safe."

"Good. That's good, Az. Take it out to the garden. Wait this thing out. Gwyn won't even remember this tomorrow."

"How do you know that, Rhys? How can you possibly promise me something like that?"

"Feyre sat through mine. I've seen her memory and had none of my own to share. The tonic works. I can promise you that if the shadows had been able to spare her, I'd have begged them to stay with me instead. Gwyn would choose them over you right now. She doesn't need you to sit in this. She wouldn't want you to either."

"Fucking Emina."

"Az. Don't get mad at Emina. The tonics work. You've both come so far. This isn't a punishment or a curse. She's just in a new place. Trust me, brother. They will slow."

"This didn't happen when we were in the Spring cabin."

"She had nightmares on the mission, Az. You know that she did. She won't remember this, but you will."

"I would have spared Feyre. If she had just called to me, I would have sent my shadows to her. Had I known she suffered like this."

"I know that, Az. I'm glad for it every day. Then all you have to do is love yourself at least as much as you love your High Lady. Do for yourself what you can easily see Feyre needed."

"I'd bleed for her or Gwyn. For any of you."

"And us for you. But don't slice yourself open just to prove it. Nobody is asking for that. It serves no one. Take the oil Emina made for you. Go to the garden. Pour a drink. Breathe in the smell of your mate at her most ecstatic and truly annoying. The shadows will come for you. When the worst is past. They will come for you."

"Okay."

"And Az?"

"Yeah."

"Take her to Rosehall when you're ready. Your mother is not lost to you, Az. You've done right by her. All these years, you've been a good son. She is safe. So is Gwyn. Clear your head. Sleep if you can."

"Thank you, Rhys. I don't tell you enough, but you're not always a massive prick."

"You're the one with the wingspan, brother. "

"Go away."

"Gladly."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Slowly, Azriel rolled Gwyn off of his lap and onto her side. Shadows skimmed her skin immediately. He watched to ensure that they knew exactly where to press and where to avoid as they moved along her body. The room still smelled of his rage and he expected them to mask it. If anything, it was getting stronger as the smell of her fear was dampened by the shadows. This room now smelled of cold justice and retribution. The door clicked behind him and he heard nothing but the trill of night birds outside.

The garden was peaceful. As he inhaled the fragrance and listened to the water bubble in the fountain, his mind saw his mate slice the ribbon over and over. The face he saw was beaming with challenge and smug assertiveness.

Our Mate sleeps. You can join her now.

Azriel entered their room cautiously, but the smell that met him was peaceful and sleepy. He crawled into bed behind his mate and curled his massive body to meet hers. Her skin was slightly damp, but she was no longer icy and she slept peacefully. He dozed behind her until the sky brightened and she stirred in his arms.

Her mouth found the bargain mark on the inside of his wrist and he felt her smile into it. Her hand slid up the forearm he had snaked across her breasts and her back arched pressing her soft ass into his cock.

Azriel lowered his mouth to her neck and the groan he heard nearly erased the memories from the night before. It was full of satisfaction and promise. He nipped with his teeth and she chuckled. His palm cupped her breast possessively and the chuckle caught in her throat and her back arched further in need and desire. Her body bent forward with primal instinct, but he knew she wasn't ready to be taken this way. If he was honest, neither was he. He wasn't ready to take her, to claim her as he had done before. He wanted to worship her. Needed to feel her body soothed and aroused by his touch. Needed to remind himself that he could.

Azriel took her to the edge repeatedly, but never pushed her over. He knew once she came, she'd turn her attention to him. He thought he might cry to see her pleasing him. Giving to him. She seemed to want to argue the point, but he distracted her rather easily. He smirked.

"Are you planning to give me your glorious cock this morning, love?"

Shit.

Our Mate is on to you.

"Today is about you, Gwyn."

"As you've said. Although." She looked down at his face now covered in her arousal. "Still not an answer to my question."

"Is that what you want, love?" He bent his mouth back to her.

"What I want is for you to join me here in this bed, Shadowsinger."

"I'm right here." He purred.

"Are you?" Her voice was harsh and she started to pull away.

Shit.

Our Mate is on to you. Talk to her. She will understand.

"I am. I just want to respect what you said before." She looked confused. "About being afraid of dicks." Not a lie. "There is plenty that we can do that doesn't involve penetration. I don't want to frighten you." He couldn't handle frightening her today. He was still emotionally raw from the night before. He couldn't even bring himself to talk about it yet.

"I see." She reached down and ran her hands through a mess of his hair. "You're very sweet, but if I wanted to avoid cock I probably shouldn't have fallen in love with an Illyrian with such an impressive wingspan."

Azriel felt the wince on his face. Had she even had a choice? They were mates, but he was too large and too frightening. She grabbed his face before he could lower back to her core to stop that line of thought.

"If I wanted Mor, I'd be fucking Mor." Shock gripped him. "Well, probably not Mor, since it would break Emerie's heart, but you get what I'm saying."

"I think so." He hoped so.

"I love that you heard me." She stroked his hair again and this time tightened her fist around a handful. If she kept doing that, she'd get what she was clearly asking for. His fear be fucking damned. He couldn't speak.

"I love that you're acting within what you see as my boundaries. But, I'm not going to break." She tugged at his hair and held his stare.

"I'm not going to run, Az." He loved hearing her say his name. "I want you and I want you to show me what is in your heart."

Azriel started a slow crawl up her naked body as she continued. "If you want to make love slowly, I'm in." He stopped briefly to plant a kiss at her navel, pulling the sweet skin into his mouth. "You want to fuck me hard up against the wall." He groaned into the flesh of her stomach at her words. "I think I've shown you that I'm game."

"I'm so sorry about that, Gwyn. I just got carried away." He nuzzled the underside of her breast with his nose.

"I want you carried away." She reached down and wrapped her warm hand around his cock. "I want you begging. I want to know that you need me as I need you. I'm not afraid of you or your lust or your body, Az." She stroked him painfully slow. "Sometimes that will be sweet and sometimes it will be hard. And if I don't feel particularly sexy, I will tell you that and I know you'll respect that. Do you want me?"

"Obviously." He groaned and her hand tightened on his cock.

"What did we say about obviously? There is no obviously for us. If you want something or don't want something, you say it. Ask me for what you want, Az. If it's mine to give, it's yours."

"What I want." He'd finally reached her face. "What I need is to bury my cock inside you." It was her turn to groan. "Slow and deep." He could be honest. She'd asked him to be honest. She needed it too. "I want to feel your plump ass push against my stomach and roll your luscious tits in my rough hands."

"A thousand times yes, Az. I'm so very glad I asked you what you wanted." She moved to kiss him but stopped short with a shy look. "Although I'm not sure how that works. Will I still be able to see your face? I want to see your face, Az." She released his cock and slid onto her stomach. Her knee was hiked up on the bed and her ass stuck out invitingly.

We are perfect together. This is perfection.

Azriel was off the bed in a flash and grabbed a small cushion from the armchair near the window. He held the cushion aloft as he noticed her hungry gaze land on his cock. He grinned.

"You know Rhys is always going on about morning sex. Kinda weird for the High Lord of the Night Court, but I never knew the appeal." She's not the only one trying new things and he wanted her to feel that right now. "I've never woken up with a lover. Not once, Gwyn. Some of this is all new to me too."

Gwyn smiled as he placed the cushion just above her hip bones and settled in between the back of her thighs. He kissed her neck and nudged her top knee to bend even further toward her shoulder and slide forward bringing his face closer to her knee. She grinned again. She was starting to understand. The bulk of his weight was pressed to her ribs and shoulder, instead of her back. The slight twist to her waist brought her face flush with his. He felt her moan on his cheek.

"You smell amazing, Gwyn. If I do something wrong, tell me."

"Take me, Az. Claim your mate. Show me that I'm where I belong."

"You'll be the death of me."

"Nope. Amren already said it. I'm light and hope and earrings or whatever. Just fucking take me."

Azriel's hand roamed from her bent knee all the way up to the soft cheek of her ass. Pressing into it with his palm, he spread her cheeks wide. As his fingers dug into the front of her pelvis, he tilted her hips further to bring her core in line with the tip of his throbbing cock. Azriel lowered his other arm to the elbow to brace his weight and slid the hand under her body to grip her breast. He groaned and in one long demanding thrust, he seated himself fully inside his mate.

She screamed, but there was no fear in her voice or her body. Only need, as her inner walls clenched around him. He took the shell of her ear between his teeth before releasing her to whisper.

"Cauldron, Gwyn. This is everything. You're everything to me."

"Show me, Az. Show me what it feels like to be your everything."

He quickened his pace. He knew she could handle him. More than that, she wanted what he wanted. She needed what he needed. They were one. He released her breast and reached up to grasp a fistful of her hair. He smirked at her groan. She remembered this as well as he did. He pulled her head to the side and devoured her lips in a bruising kiss. He was so fucking deep inside her and he felt grounded her to the moment.

He had never felt a stronger sense of belonging to a person, a place, a moment, to himself. The bond hummed between them and all he felt was joy and reverence for what they had built between them all these months.

They came hard together and neither had the need or the desire to separate. Their bodies lay as one in the late morning sun.

"You answer to me, and you answer to…"

"Oh. Do shut it, Cass," Nesta interjected with none of her trademark harshness.

"I just don't like it. Any of it," Cassian emphasized to the three Valkyries.

"I know. I get it." Gwyn attempted to soothe his brother. "But it needs to be done. And Az and I are the best team for this mission. You know that. And he will be with me the whole time. I can promise you that, Cass."

"And how does your mate feel about you two taking a quick jaunt into the Autumn Court?" Emerie shared his concern and Az could picture them standing shoulder to shoulder staring Gwyn down.

Good luck with that.

"He didn't seem pleased, but he trusts me. He trusts in my abilities." Gwyn stood her ground.

"And so do we." Emerie was quick to agree, but Azriel knew that Cassian would take more convincing.

"What you mean is that he's still at the River House trying to talk Rhys out of it." Cass knew him well.

"Probably." Gwyn turned to the cluster of shadows draped across her shoulder and shouted into it.

"But he has the grace to call it exploring all the options. I'm just here to pack a few supplies for the day. Az says we will be back well before dark."

"He sent the shadow with you to pack? What does he think will happen in the House?" Nesta sounded offended. Perhaps more than a little suspicious of this new surveillance.

"Az knows nothing will happen to me in the House," Gwyn assured them. "He admitted that he actually can't control these three shadows anymore. They stay with me all the time now. They don't report anything to him anymore. Unless I need him or if I ask them to tell him something for me. But, he said he would be listening. He wants to help me pack the supplies."

"And he calls Rhys the busybody." Emerie huffed.

"Azriel has requested that I inform you that I am Prythian's most powerful busybody in history."

"No way he said it that way."

"Close enough. Took a few liberties with the phrasing. Mostly, he said it with his eyes."

"Em and I can help with the packing," Nesta announced before addressing her mate. "You. Go make sure your brothers have all of the logistics thought through. If you can keep our people out of Autumn, do it."

"Yes, General." He saluted before box jumping onto the nearest railing. Cassian turned his back to the open air below and winked at the three Valkyries before letting his body fall back into the wind. He'd trademarked the move centuries ago, and Azriel could picture it perfectly as he heard Gwyn mumble.

"Showoff."

"Don't underestimate the impulse of the mating bond." Nesta tried to warn Gwyn as they entered her bedroom and Azriel's heart warmed at the strength of their connection and the mention of his bond.

"What do you mean?"

"I know we give them a lot of shit about the territorial crap…" Nesta continued and Az could make out Emerie's throaty chuckle. It reminded him of the affectionately deprecating way that Rhysand's mother dealt with a house full of growing Illyrian boys.

"… because they deserve it." She interjected, and Emerie did have a point.

"True. But it isn't just them." Nesta's voice sounded with gathering tears. "Seeing Azriel in danger will override your training. It will override your rational brain. It will override your need to stay alive, it just will. You cannot prepare for it. Just try to remember that you will not be thinking clearly if he is hurt. It has a way of taking over."

"I'll try. This is just reconnaissance. Azriel will stay in the shadows, but Beron has wards around the Forest House. My connections to Autumn could help us get close and get away if we are caught. We need to know why he is moving troops closer to his borders and if it has anything to do with this prophecy."

"I know." Nesta seemed to calm but continued with her warnings. "Don't underestimate Eris either. Don't trust him unless you absolutely have to. Even then.. don't ever show him your back. He'll find a way to put a knife in it. I know it."

"Nesta. He is…"

"… an ally. I know, but he and Lucien are night and day, Gwyn. Don't forget that."

"Does that mean you've decided that you do trust Lucien?" Nesta didn't reply to Gwyn's question.

"I've been having lunch with him, you know? Getting to know him a bit."

"I heard." Nesta's tone was flat.

"Well." Emerie purred at her side. "Elain sure seems to be warming up to him."

"Finally." Nesta huffed.

"So you do approve?" Azriel's heart clenched at the sound of Gwyn's eagerness.

"I'm not really against them as a couple. I know what it is to accept a mating bond. And I know that Elain has never felt that kind of love. That sort of belonging. Not a day in her life. Not from our parents. Not from her sisters. And definitely not from that sorry human pile of shit." She hesitated.

"And not from Az." She sighed. "I want that for her, of course, I do. If it is what she wants for herself, I would not try to discourage her."

"He is a good male, Nesta."

"I can see that. Plus…" Nesta's voice smoked with the tug of a wicked smile. "Something tells me that if she ever does decide to let him in, he could make her toes curl in those dainty little slippers she insists on wearing."

"Nesta! Gross!"

"Why is that gross?" Nesta sounded curious but moved closer to shout into the shadows still hovering at Gwyn's shoulder. "Lucien is one clever, hunky, ginger sexpot."

"I bet he knows just how to put the cunning in cunnilingus," Emerie added with an indelicate slurp that probably wet the shell of Gwyn's ear.

"Now he is just begging the three of you to stop."

"You're barking up the wrong tree, Rhys. Tell these two to stop antagonizing Az."

"No. I don't think that I will."

"Because you're scared of them or because you enjoy it?"

"Both. We're done anyway. He is on his way."

"We're still going?"

"Yes. Meet him on the roof. You leave immediately."

"Is this a blindfold? Made of black silk?" Emerie held up the strip against her eyes. "Kinky."

"It is just a bit of clean fabric. Very useful in the field." Gwyn corrected studiously.

"I bet it is," Emerie added and Nesta chuckled nearby.

"How would it be kinky though?"

"Oh, dear. Sweet Gwyneth. Do I have a spicy book for you?! We can call it homework and Az can thank me later." Emerie offered and Azriel nearly flew into a tree. "When one sense is muted, the other senses are heightened… senses like touch."

"And taste. It can be very arousing." Nesta added with a tone of remembrance.

"Oh." Gwyn squeaked. "I see."

"Or you don't see. Depending." Emerie was clearly enjoying pushing Gwyn's buttons. "And you can always switch."

"Maybe this should stay here with me." Nesta pocketed the blindfold. "For safekeeping until you get back."

"Get your mitts off my blindfold." Gwyn must have snatched it back because Azriel heard the tsk of her tongue and the curiosity in her tone. Bless these Valkyries.

Our Singer approaches.

Gwyn shrieked and Az did hit a tree. "Did you guys hear something?"

"No."

"Nothing," Emerie confirmed. "Are you hearing voices now?"

"Yes. Actually, I am."

Our Singer approaches. Wear your lightest leathers. Please.

"Holy Shit! I think the shadows just spoke to me."

"Holy shit is right!" Emerie agreed and Nesta offered a low whistle. "Can you say something back to them?"

Hi.

Hello.

"What did they say?"

"They said hello."

"Is that it?" Nesta sounded disappointed.

"Oh. No. They said that Az is almost here and that I need those summer leathers Em got for me last month."

"I knew Az was a fan of those. They are super thin and made of really buttery soft leather… designed for her pleasure."

"This is for the mission, Em." Gwyn hesitated. "At least, I think that is why I need them. It didn't sound like an… um.. personal request."

By the time Gwyn met Azriel on the roof, he'd removed the last bits of leaves and twigs from his hair and collected himself enough to at least speak. She was wearing his favorite buttery soft leathers. Her eyes reflected the wildness racing through his heart.

"Your shadows spoke to me!"

"You can just call them The Shadows and I did hear about that."

"Are you upset?"

"Not at all. I've never felt more whole." Gwyn blushed at his raw confession. She glanced away until her curiosity overcame her shyness.

"Did you hear them too?"

"Not what they said to you. That was for you. I did feel something odd though. I knew they were speaking to you and then I heard you tell Nesta and Emerie. They haven't explained it to me, and I did ask." Azriel locked eyes with her. She needed to understand. "I guess I don't have to tell you that this has never happened before. Though. It could start happening more."

"When I actually accept the mating bond?"

"Yes…" Azriel hesitated.

"If you're about to say, if you accept the bond, I'll be forced to smack you upside that beautiful head of yours."

"Fair enough." Azriel chuckled. "No need to get violent." Though his cock twitched at the thought and he pushed ahead before they got further derailed. "Here. I brought this for you."

"What is it?"

"A long apron-type thing that the females wear in Autumn."

"A pinafore."

"Sure thing. Just put your arms through the holes and tie it around your waist."

"You don't say? And how do shoes work again?"

"Gwyneth. This is a mission. Can you rein in the sass?"

"Yes, Commander." She purred and slid forward onto one hip, bringing her body in line with the front of his own.

"Um." Azriel croaked. "That is not helpful."

"Shocking."

"Ok. The pinafore will cover the front of your leathers. This cloak will do the rest." Azriel handed the lush garment over to her and tried not to let his hands brush against her skin. "I will fly us over the mountains. Then we can winnow in jumps until we get into the Autumn woods. This disguise will help if you're seen, but the leathers will still be there to protect you in a fight."

The pair scouted for hours with no difficulty. Beron was moving way more troops than Eris had let on. Either because he didn't know the sheer number or he didn't deign to tell them the whole truth. Azriel was afraid of the latter, but the shadows couldn't confirm it. As they got closer to the Forest House, Azriel noticed that one of the units was led by Beron's most ruthless guard. The male went by the name Mathis. Unlike the rest of the groups, this one was moving off along a road that stretched toward Autumn's northern border with the Winter Court.

Winter doesn't make sense as a destination for troops. Mathis is a brute. He is ruthless. He is also a renowned sailor. There is nothing for him in Winter right now.

Winter offers access to both the western and the eastern sea.

If they sailed the western sea far enough north, they could make it close to Velaris.

"We follow that group there." Azriel pointed and Gwyn moved swiftly to follow, still cloaked in shadows.

"This group looks different somehow." She mused, almost to herself.

"Tell me how so?"

"They seem to be carrying a lot of rope, for one thing. Why do they need that much rope?"

"What if I tell you that a number of them are sailors? What else do you notice?" Azriel watched her watching them. He loved seeing her wheels turn. Gwyn's mental calculations were always impressive.

"If you're right and they are sailors…"

"And you can assume that I AM right."

"Ok. They are heading away from the coast though. Autumn's only coast is to the east."

"That is true. So where could they be going?"

"For now, they are heading north. But if this road veers west. Or if they leave the road." She thought for another moment. "They could skirt the edge between Winter and Summer. Probably stick to Winter. And make for the western sea, instead of the east."

"And? Where would that take them?"

"If their goal is to make it to the Night Court, that would take them away from the mountains and the Court of Nightmares and straight into the port at Velaris."

"Very good." Azriel purred and watched with satisfaction as shivers ran up her elegant neck at the

praise.

"But." Gwyn kept her focus. "He shouldn't even know that Velaris exists, much less where it is."

"You're right and maybe it is nothing. Hopefully, it is nothing." Azriel turned slowly to follow the group of soldiers and growled.

"Or?" Gwyn prodded.

"Or Eris has betrayed the safety of everyone in Velaris. And I kill him." Azriel took no pleasure in threatening Gwyn's family.

"And we kill him. For Velaris. For our court."

They followed the northern road for the better part of an hour before they saw a small band of males split off west into the woods. The remaining troops kept marching forward along the road without hesitation. This was planned.

"I'm going to fly ahead. From the air, I can see where the road leads and in which direction. You follow the group into the woods."

"Ok." She sounded surprised at his trust.

"Stay well behind them. The shadows will hide you somewhat, but it will be easier to get close when we are both together. You won't lose them, Gwyn. Do not engage unless necessary."

"Ok." Gwyn nodded and carefully inched behind a nearby tree.

Azriel watched with pride as she danced between each fallen twig or loose rock to move silently into the woods. He took to the sky in one massive swoop of his powerful wings and he hoped she was impressed. Azriel followed the road far enough to confirm that it snaked back onto itself. The two groups couldn't help but rejoin at the next sharp bend. It was clearly a trap.

Shit. They suspected that they were being followed! Warn Gwyn.

Our Mate is safe. She hides. Awaiting your return. Archer!! Bank left. Bank Left.

Azriel took an arrow deep into his thigh. He grabbed the shaft and managed to break it off mid-flight. The arrowhead was still embedded deep in his leg, and from the pain, it was probably near the bone. It would have to be dug out before he could ever hope to heal properly, much less fight.

Faebane. And ash.

Our Mate has been informed. She waits near that small clearing.

Azriel landed in a heap and Gwyn rushed to catch him. "Those fuckers thought I was a giant bird. They shot at me for sport. I don't think they know we are here." Gwyn set her jaw and inspected the wound.

"Gwyn." She looked up at his words. "The point is near the bone. Ash. Faebane." Azriel hissed as she moved to tie the long strip of black silk into a tourniquet around the meatiest part of his thigh, just above the wound. The bleeding slowed nearly immediately, but it didn't stop.

"I had hoped to make better use of this." She tried to smile. "But, I guess saving your life will just have to do." She managed a wink, but he knew how hard this was for her. He could feel it down the bond.

"Still with the jokes." Gwyn started to laugh but sobered as he swayed. "I need you to listen. I'm probably going to lose consciousness soon. The shadows won't be able to help if I'm out cold."

Gwyn started to protest, but he continued. "You can do this. You've trained for this. I can crawl to those trees. If I don't make it there, drag me. Just watch the wings, love. You're gonna need to dig out the point. Don't be squeamish about it. If the pain wakes me, the shadows will return and they can put me right back out. They have done it before. Everything you need is in that kit I showed you. Use it. Dig it out and stitch me up nice and clean."

Gwyn nodded once and braced her hand against his shoulder. "Once it is out, my body will do the rest in time. There is a canteen of water and those nutty biscuits you love. That will get you through the night. I will heal and we can be on our way by tomorrow at the latest."

Gwyn's head shot up. Her icy glare landed just over his shoulder. Azriel struggled to turn and his wound throbbed. He saw the giant form of Mathis break from the shadow of the tree line.

"See. I'm not sure that plan tracks for me." The guard's voice boomed across the small clearing.

"And I know Beron won't like it either." He mocked them with a chuckle. "And here I thought he was just being paranoid, but I guess we caught ourselves a spy. Or two, if you count the pretty little hen."

Gwyn stepped between her mate and the approaching male threat, offering the latter a purely guttural command that swallowed Azriel's snarl on the wind. "Do not even look at him."

"Or what? I've never had a taste for frightened rabbit, but I can assure you that a pretty little thing such as yourself won't last very long in the Forest House. Oh. They will have fun with you before the end."

"So." Gwyn drew herself up between them and Azriel felt a power growing inside her. "Am I to be a hen or a rabbit? You can't seem to decide."

"I doubt it matters much. They both get eaten."

Help her.

Our Mate has this under control.

How can you say that?

Sleep. She is safe.

"See. I think it does matter." Azriel felt the space between them grow as Gwyn took a step closer to the guard. "I bet you have a farm somewhere. Am I right?" The space grew again, but her arms remained thrown wide, shielding his body as he lay crumpled on the ground. Mathis huffed and Azriel saw the hulking form shrug.

"So what if I do?"

"Bet it is a pretty little place. You keep it orderly. Don't you? Efficient. You take pride in your farm."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing." Gwyn's voice was calm. "You keep chickens. Rabbits. That's why you thought of those first." Gwyn's fingers twitched in the air around her hands. Azriel heard her smile and felt her excitement and curiosity pulsing down the bond. "And a handful of goats."

"You're a witch." The guard fell back a step.

"Not at all, but I doubt it matters much." Did she just wink? Azriel's soul seemed to feel her wink.

"And your girls…" The guard's massive form went stock still and even the wind seemed to share his apprehension. "… they collect the eggs. They milk the goats. Along with their mother. They make cheese and give the bunnies those silly little names." She took another step toward the male and her fingers twitched again. "You've never even managed to eat a rabbit. Not one rabbit."

"You ARE a witch."

"No. But I see you, Mathis." The wind picked up again. "I see the threads of your life plain as day. I know you don't want to do this. Not any of it."

"That farm is safe because I do what I'm told. Always have. Always will. I'm loyal."

"Good. That's good, Mathis." Azriel felt her nodding, but he could barely hold on to consciousness as she continued speaking to the guard. "I believe you. And I think. I think that just might make this whole thing a lot easier on both of us."

***

The first thing Azriel saw upon waking was a small, quiet fire in the hearth. He was tucked into one of the larger couches in the front sitting room of the Townhouse, with a giant cream-colored throw across his lap. He tried to sit up, but a familiar dizziness overtook him. Madja had been here. He had been drugged.

Good. You're awake. You're going to want to hear this.

Hear what? Madja gave me one of her tonics.

Yes. You'll be a bit loopy for a bit longer. Do try to pay attention.

The front door blew open on an upsweep of warm air. Lucien's strides ate the distance quickly, though Elain slipped in quietly behind her mate. She stuck close to the wall with a shy smile, as Lucien prowled the room ferociously. "Gwyneth Berdara! Get your skinny ass down here!"

"My ass is not skinny," Gwyn stated on her way down the stairs. Elain giggled and Gwyn scowled in jest as she passed her. "Well, it isn't."

"Got you down here fast enough though."

"I'd have come without the insults." Gwyn noticed immediately that Az was awake and made her way to his side. Her soft smile held a question, to which he nodded his answer. He was fine. She had obviously saved them. Somehow, she had saved them both.

"What in the Cauldron did you think you were doing?" Lucien barked and Azriel would have growled, but his head was fuzzy and Gwyn seemed perfectly relaxed.

"You'll have to be more specific."

"Helion was called to the Autumn Court for a bit of impromptu spell cleaving." He looked down his nose at her. "It took us ages to get Mathis to stop carving tiny farm animal figurines. He has made upwards of 200 of them since you two… I assume you had a hand in this?" He glanced at Azriel and seemed to see him for the first time since entering. "Since you two left Autumn. Not exactly stealthy, Shadowsinger." Lucien seemed to take in his positioning on the couch and the cashmere throw, and his brow furrowed. "Although, it appears you were injured. So that's some excuse."

"Do they know it was the Night Court?" Rhys strode through the front door.

"No. But they know it was someone. You can't compel Beron's most feared guard to abandon his mission and pursue his passion for the arts and not attract some attention."

Lucien flopped into an armchair. Azriel had never seen their emissary so unkempt before and he loosed a nervous giggle. Gwyn glared at her mate.

"Sorry. He's funny."

"And you're high." She smiled at Az before turning back to Lucien. "And it isn't compulsion. I don't have that power. And as you can see, I was desperate." She waved her hand at Az. "I'm good with a sword, but I had no hope of defeating Mathis."

"Well, that much is true." Lucien rubbed at his forehead with a shaky hand. "Plus, he keeps a dagger in his boot that he tips with a special poison. It makes Faebane seem like child's play." Gwyn turned a stunning shade of green and Azriel had the strange desire to lick the entire left side of her face.

She must have felt that down the bond because she turned suddenly in confusion and alarm.

"And where were you when my…" Lucien stopped suddenly.

"Your what exactly?" Nesta inquired as she emerged from the kitchen. Lucien threw up his hands and slouched back in the chair again.

"Maybe we should take this to my office now that Az is awake." Rhys offered, but Gwyn moved immediately to kneel before Lucien's chair.

"I'm so sorry. I haven't said a word…" His face softened at her words.

"You think I'm worried about people knowing." He touched her face lovingly. "You could have been killed, Gwyn."

"I'm a soldier and a spy. And if I don't do my job, we may all be killed."

"Why is The Fox touching Gwyn?" Cassian stood behind Nesta wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. "Are we letting The Fox touch Gwynie now? I'm so confused." Cassian continued and Lucien offered Gwyn a slight nod. Elain moved quietly to stand at her mate's side. Gwyn turned slowly to face her friends.

"Lucien is my uncle. My father's brother."

"Not Eris, Not Eris, Not Eris. Please say that your father is not Eris." Cassian pleaded.

"My father is not Eris, but thank you for your concern. My father has actually passed away. I have not met him and I never will."

"I'm sorry, Gwyn. So. Eris is your uncle though."

"Somewhat. He is her grandmother's son. So, yes. In that sense, they are related." Gwyn nodded for him to continue. "But. Beron is not my biological father. Helion is my mother's mate and my father by blood. Thankfully, he is Gwyn's grandfather, not Beron." Cassian let out a low whistle and Nesta smiled affectionately knowing that her friend had found even more family.

"Holy shit, Az. Helion is your mate's grandfather?" Cassian beamed down at his brother and Azriel threw his head back over the armrest to make eye contact with his brother. "Does he know?"

"He does." He confirmed.

"And how did he handle that little nugget of information?" Cassian snorted.

"He seemed… highly amused. As you might expect." Azriel was trying hard not to laugh.

"More importantly than whatever it is that the two of you are grinning about," Lucien continued dryly. "This means that Gwyn and I are the only living heirs to the High Lord of the Day Court." A low whistle sounded from Cassian's direction.

There it was. Azriel knew Gwyn was uncomfortable with the politics of this connection. He wasn't surprised when she blew right past all of the implications to focus on her emerging powers.

"How did I do it though?"

"Helion might be better able to explain it." Lucien's voice was encouraging and kind. Azriel was glad for that.

"Can we assume that I'm not ready to ask him just yet? I'm asking you."

"Ok. I can try to explain it. A water nymph has compulsion. That is a doing of sorts." Lucien turned to Rhys for support, who offered a brief nod. "The doing is making someone act in accordance with YOUR will, instead of their own. It is taking over their mind and can only last for short bursts. It also doesn't afford one access to their memories or thoughts."

"Ok. So that is compulsion. I can't do that, but it is something like that."

"True. Now. Daemati are able to slip into a person's mind to see their thoughts and their memories."

"I'm not a daemati."

"Agreed." Lucien took a long breath. "Now. Spell cleaving is an undoing of sorts. It exists almost in opposition to magic like compulsions. But, to untie a knot, you must see the strings. You have to see where they intersect, where they travel from and where they lead, and how hard you can tug on one before it snaps. Or think of a puzzle. You have to see all the pieces that make up the puzzle and the lines that run between each of the pieces. It is hard to explain."

"You're doing great." Gwyn encouraged him. "I think I'm with you so far."

"Well. You're the only one." Cassian grumbled, but Nesta elbowed him swiftly.

"If compulsion is a dampening of a person's will," Lucien turned to Cassian. Perhaps not looking at his niece would help him get this out. "Then what Gwyn did was to understand all the threads that made up his whole being and she untied them. Forever. She took the pieces that were his fear of Beron and his need to hide the parts of himself that he perceived as weakness and she wove them underneath his desire to create something beautiful for his family. She was correct. He did not want to harm her, but his fear of Beron was too great. He would have killed you. He has killed many out of fear of Beron. You made his need to be himself the overpowering impulse, the dominant thread woven through his life."

"So. Helion has restored him then?" Gwyn didn't look like she enjoyed that thought at all.

"Not exactly."

"He will never be what he was?" She seemed to enjoy that thought even less.

"Why would Helion do that? He doesn't want that fear back, Gwyn. Fear is a wound. You healed him. He is grateful. But." Lucien finally smiled. "We did decide to make it so he can be a bit more balanced in his artistic endeavors and the rest of his life."

"And what does Beron think? Is his family safe? Fear isn't always unhealthy. Beron is a monster." Gwyn had paled.

"Beron thinks that it was some witch. Or a wraith. A wood sprite with a bad sense of humor. I wasn't there when he met with Beron. I'm not exactly sure what Helion told him. But. Since these powers are unheard of anywhere in Prythian, he has no reason to suspect any particular court or a political motive at all. Soldiers do get burnt out, Gwyn. It happens. He has officially retired. His family is safe."

Gwyn sighed and returned to Azriel's side on the couch. He found his hands drifting to play in the soft tips of her hair. Lucien smiled at the sight and Azriel noticed Elain drag an affectionate hand down her mate's back. Lucien beamed up at her but the gaze he turned on Gwyn was a sober one.

"You need to work with Helion, Gwyn. He can help you understand this. Harness it. He wants to help you. You're immensely powerful. You could turn the tides in our favor. Be a real asset to this court."

"I'll think about it." Gwyn turned to Azriel. "What are you smiling at?"

"My mate is a sexy badass. Plus, I'm still pretty fucking high."

Azriel was fully healed, but he dressed for dinner at a glacial pace. The prospect of a whole evening spent at the River House for family dinner used to spark resentment and mild dread. Lately, his reluctance centered more on having to share his mate's attention with the rest of his meddlesome family.

There is much to be learned during a visit.

He nodded absently. The Night Court's emissary returning from his impromptu trip to Day was a compelling draw. Azriel had been in no condition yesterday to probe Lucien for details, but the male had clearly spent time in the Day Court, seen Helion, and then traveled with the High Lord into Autumn Court territory to work magic on the guard. While not technically a spy, Lucien was observant and intelligent. Azriel would never ask a male to officially spy on his own father.

Unless that male is The Amber Hound.

Eris doesn't count.

Unless that father is a monster or a threat.

Beron happens to be both.

Unless a mother is being held as nothing more than a prisoner in her own home.

A moral obligation and an honorable pursuit.

Fair and true.

She is also family to more than one member of my court.

Including yourself.

I guess that could be true someday.

Will be. Sooner than your fears suggest.

Azriel had learned centuries ago that he didn't need to flex his interrogation muscles to gather valuable intel from even the most casual of travelers. A conversation with Lucien or Elain could provide details, the import of which might not be clear to any of them at the moment. His compulsive need to collect any and all information had protected his court for centuries.

You are a spy. You are a snoop.

Even through the haze of Madja's pain tonic, Azriel had seen Elain's newfound affection for her mate. As his High Lady, Feyre's friendships and family connections had political implications. Feyre was also his friend. As was Elain. Their happiness and comfort would never be trivial to him.

The River House was not far. He and Gwyn managed to arrive earlier than most of the family, despite strolling hand in hand through the street and making what Cassian would surely categorize as moon eyes at one another. Lucien was standing near the sitting room fireplace, watching Elain play on the plush carpet with an excited and babbling Nyx at her knee. Gwyn joined Elain on the carpet, but Azriel approached The Fox.

"You're a clever male." Azriel decided a direct approach was best.

"And…" Lucien's eyes never left the scene on the rug, though his words were somehow aimed at Azriel. "… a good evening to you as well, Spymaster."

"So." Azriel slowly poured from the decanter that Rhys, in his immense generosity and infinite need to show off, always set out for family dinners. "I assume you've realized she won't be coddled."

"And…" Lucien reluctantly dragged his attention from the females, letting Azriel see a little of his curiosity. "… of whom are we speaking?"

"If she thinks you're coddling her, she's likely to break at least one of your fingers."

"Ah." Lucien smiled with pride. "This would be Gwyneth then. I'd have thought you'd see that as your job. As her mate."

"To coddle her? Or to break bits of you?"

"Both. Actually. Now that you mention it." Lucien waited. Azriel marked it and sighed, having made his decision.

"I am not my reputation. Not here, at least."

"I can appreciate that. You do seem rather calm for a rageful demigod." Lucien smiled and turned his attention back to the rug. "I'm the one who can't seem to control myself anymore. It's more than slightly disconcerting." Azriel stifled a chuckle. "I've just never had a niece before. Nor am I particularly good with children." Lucien watched Gwyn and Elain as the pair doted on their nephew. Both females had an ease with children that went beyond feminine expectations to hint at a true fondness for the company of tiny Fae.

"Gwyn isn't a child." Azriel felt compelled to counter, though he wasn't sure it was needed.

"I can see that. Though, she is still very young. And I am her uncle. I should be looking out for her."

"… and you are. Just make sure that you're not underestimating her and you'll do just fine." Azriel handed him a glass. The firelight caught the amber liquid through the intricately cut crystal and swirls danced across his scars. Lucien's gaze fell on them briefly, and Azriel was shocked to find that he didn't mind at all. "And if you don't, she'll be happy to tell you exactly where you went wrong."

"Well. That sounds delightful."

"Ah." Azriel sipped, but held up a finger from around his glass as he swallowed. "But she'll also tell you how to fix it. She might even be able to help with Elain. Although, you don't seem to need it."

"Not at this point, Spymaster." Lucien looked back at him and Azriel was fairly certain they were no longer discussing Gwyn. Though it didn't really matter. Azriel was done interfering with that bond, and he knew Lucien didn't doubt that as fact.

"You can call me, Azriel." Lucien inclined his head at the offer. "I've never seen Elain this happy or more comfortable in her own skin."

"Well. Being Made cannot be easy on the body…" Lucien's face darkened. "… or the mind." A moment passed and neither male spoke.

"You forget that I met Elain before she ever knew about the Cauldron or had any clue about the havoc it can unleash." Azriel offered a hint of a smile. "And the observation still stands, Lucien. I have to think that you have something to do with her newfound contentment."

"If I do…" Lucien's knowing smirk was endearing and somehow contagious. "That would be an honor. One that was hers to grant. Not the Cauldron. Her life will be one of her own making. I've offered her my encouragement and support. Nothing more."

"Nothing more?" Azriel looked away before the temptation to enjoy this conversation took hold.

"Don't discount encouragement and support. That is more than many are afforded, even from their blood."

"I know that to be a hard truth." Lucien looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. "An observation for an observation?" Azriel nodded and took another sip. "I have explored these streets for some time now. It is a truly remarkable city." Azriel nodded. He sipped again and held his tongue. "I have had the opportunity to talk with residents here. Have no doubts. You are feared." Azriel's head shot up and even the shadows slowed in their incessant coiling. "Abroad clearly and with very good reason. But even here…"

Azriel set his glass on the mantle with no response. "Though. Do not for a moment confuse that fear with ingratitude. Those in this city, they know what you are required to do in their name and they worship you for it. You are loved by many, including those in this room…" Lucien swept his arm, gesturing toward the growing group of family milling about and laughing. "… and many more throughout this city. And beyond."

Azriel stood stunned. Lucien crossed the room without a backward glance and joined his mate on the carpet.

As they entered the dining room a little time later, Azriel's face cracked into a delighted grin to match the smug expression he found on Feyre's face. She was already seated in his brother's high-backed chair at the head of the long table. On the wall behind her hung a breathtaking portrait, three stars cresting three mountain peaks. The seat was always occupied by the High Lord or it was left empty.

Nesta alone moved. Her regular chair was now the farthest away from Feyre, as empty chairs stretched down the right side of the enormous rectangular table between them. Nesta sat nonplussed and set about buttering a dinner roll the size of one of Cassian's fists.

"My mate goes to my left." Nesta motioned with her dinner roll to the empty seat to her immediate left. Cassian sat at his mate's direction and offered the room a confused sort of shrug. Elain reached for the chair immediately to Feyre's left, just as Nesta's voice sounded again.

"It appears you're to be my right hand, High Lord." Nesta gestured with her buttered knife to the empty chair to her right. The high-backed captain's chair was identical to the one Feyre now occupied, but the back faced the door instead of the emblem-adorned, stone wall. Rhys smiled at his mate and took his new seat between Nesta's and Azriel's seats. Emerie snorted and slid into her chair with aplomb and a slight shoulder bump into Cassian to her right. Mor quietly took the seat between Emerie and Feyre. Gwyn's seat was directly across from Cassian and to Azriel's right. The two redheads in the doorway smiled between them as Lucien reached for the chair between his mate and his now-beaming niece.

Our Mate is proud to be a member of such a court. Honored to sit between two such males. Our Mate is ravenous.

"What do we do when Amren returns from Adriata?" Cassian queried.

"Perhaps you can commission a giant round table, Rhys." Nesta quipped.

"I think I like that idea!" Rhys beamed.

"She's making fun of you, dear. There is a human legend…"

"I'm aware of the Knights of the Round Table, darling." He spoke across the table to Feyre, as his left hand plopped a fresh roll onto Nesta's small plate. "And, I'm still a fan."

"You would be." Nesta winked and Azriel nearly choked on the last of his expensive whiskey.

"Elain." Feyre turned to her sister. "I'm so sorry to say that the twins apparently packed up your room yesterday. I did mention hiring a governess and needing a playroom for Nyx, but I never intended for them to pack up your things. I'm so sorry."

"Oh. Don't be." Elain reached for her own roll and pinched off a tiny piece. She spoke again before placing the bit of food into her mouth. "I asked them to pack my belongings."

"Are you leaving us?" Rhys asked. Tension creased around his eyes.

"That part of the house should be for your immediate family and their private needs. In fact…" She took a delicate sip from her goblet to wash down another bit of bread. "If you'd allow me to make a suggestion, a playroom for Nyx would be best. You should allow your governess something more private in another part of the house and Nyx may sleep better as he grows without so many distractions in his room."

"That's a great idea." Feyre agreed, but her face shared her mate's concern.

"For the time being, I will be taking Azriel's old room. I was under the impression that it would no longer be needed." She glanced down the table to Azriel.

"Of course. Gwyn and I have moved into the Townhouse down the street. And I still have my room at the House of Wind."

"And you always will," Nesta added.

"You've never let anyone use that room, Az." Feyre sounded shocked.

"Well. I enjoyed being near the back stairs. For security purposes."

"Yes. I've never spent much time at that end of the hall, but don't those stairs lead down to the kitchens." Elain's face was impressively blank.

"They do."

"Lucien," Emerie smirked. "Doesn't your room abut the kitchens?"

"Oh. Yes. It does." Lucien sipped his wine.

"Does it now? How lovely to be so near the kitchen?" Elain beamed. "That side of the house does get truly amazing light. Particularly at dawn, when the sun is just starting to lift above the trees." Lucien sputtered suddenly.

"Lucien, would you care for some more wine?" Azriel was already reaching past Gwyn to move the bottle toward Lucien's nearly empty glass.

"Oh. Yes." Lucien wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Thank you, Azriel. How kind?"

"We will be returning to the Day Court within the week. I am quite content there. So much to see."

Feyre looked stricken at her sister's announcement, but Cassian and Emerie just snickered. Gwyn jumped in to deflect the conversation before it got out of hand.

"And what do you think of Helion himself? I'm very curious to get your impressions, Elain."

"Everyone at this table has met Helion. I'm not sure what Elain can offer you that Azriel and I have not already shared."

"Yes, but I'm less interested in those aspects that you seem to be most focused on."

"I can behave…" Nesta defended, but Cassian, Mor, and Emerie openly chucked. "… now that I know he's your grandfather." She sucked a bit of air through her teeth with a wince and whispered across the table to Azriel. "I didn't know they were related. Sue me."

"I think what Gwyn is trying to say is that she and I share a different appreciation for propriety than the rest of you." Elain waved generally at the table and smiled affectionately at the round of mock offense that greeted her. "Plus. He is our family."

"If you're counting Helion as your family now, and don't get me wrong, I'm all in favor of a generous definition of family…" Nesta offered.

"We've noticed," Elain grumbled but kept her face surprisingly neutral. Nesta narrowed her eyes slightly before continuing.

"Isn't he just as much Azriel's family as he is yours?"

"Oh." Elain flushed. "I guess that would be correct."

"So. You and Az are related," Emerie added and Mor brightened at the turn in the conversation.

Elain's cheek twitched with ire. If her truce with Gwyn meant that Elain thought to flex her social maneuvering muscles on Emerie, Azriel pitied her. Gwyn was no less fierce than her winged sister, but she did adhere to a level of decorum that Emerie had shed without reproach once safely away from Windhaven. Time with Mor and the rest of his bandits had done little to curtail her blossoming rebellion. In short, Emerie would eat Elain's lunch and relish the ordeal.

"What do you think this makes us, Elain? Bonded cousins? Of a sort." Azriel deflected the attention away from Emerie before anyone got ideas.

"Oh. Yes." Elain shook her head gently at the idea. "Not exactly. But. I can live with cousins."

"Don't they call that kissing cousins?" Emerie asked and Azriel was about to roll his eyes.

"Or nearly kissing cousins," Lucien added with a smirk, and Azriel and Elain both sputtered.

"This will all be irrelevant when I drown the lot of you into the Sidra just to shut you up," Gwyn mumbled. "At least, then I'd get some peace. And the throne of Day." She winked at Lucien and it was his turn to choke briefly on his wine.

"If people keep spitting wine, I'll start putting out the cheap stuff. And I really will need to get a new table." Rhys was clearly enjoying the conversation.

"Tea anyone?" Elain stood suddenly, announcing the end of dinner. She patted her mate gently on the back as she made her way toward the door.

Feyre smirked. His High Lady may enjoy sitting in the fancy chair, but she would never hold any of her family to formality in private. Rhys gestured with a wide sweep of his left hand and an amused hint in his eyes, both indicating that they should indeed follow Elain into the sitting room.

Azriel heard Cassian and Emerie asking for something a bit stronger than tea. The request was followed by the dangerous jingle of keys, indicating that his brother was unlocking the case to his private reserve. Gwyn's shadow lingered near her ear. The odd sensation that Azriel detected was more subtle this time. The first words a shadow ever spoke to Gwyn hadn't been clear, but he knew when they were spoken. This time, nearly nothing registered. She was getting better or they were getting closer. He felt Gwyn's heart race down the bond and his eyes bore into her back. He caught the distinct scent of her growing arousal and then felt her excitement.

"Go ahead. I just need to find the bathroom for a minute." Gwyn spoke to Nesta, but the shy smile angled over her shoulder was directed to him. "Show me where it is, Az?" He offered her a silent nod. It did little to suggest the intensity of his intrigue.

Gwyn followed him down the hall. The weight of her presence pushed suggestively at his back. He stepped aside at the open door. The hint of porcelain and a bit of reflected wing brought to mind his first dreams of burying himself deep inside Gwyn. He opened his mouth to speak, but she pulled him quickly into the bathroom and pressed his body against the wall.

Her back was to the mirror. Azriel started to turn her to bend her over the sink. She shook her head and placed one finger atop her beautiful lips. "Hush." She slid down his body and sank to her knees before him.

His body went rigid and not in a pleasing or productive sort of way. Watching someone kneel before him and gag down his massive cock until their eyes watered had never been something that Azriel found particularly enjoyable. He rarely allowed it. It felt uncomfortably passive and that level of attention felt intensely personal and thoroughly disquieting. It was also cruel and completely unnecessary.

Azriel had taken lovers who wanted their bedding to be a punishment. Lovers who needed to be dominated to find sexual release. In over 500 years, he had found plenty more creative ways to service those fantasies. He'd become a master at getting both parties off without wasting one moment listening to them gag or looking down at a red face covered in spit and tears. It wasn't true crying, but the whole scene killed his mood faster than anything else he'd ever attempted in the bedroom.

Gwyn's hands stilled on the laces of his trousers. Her body pitched back over her heels. Her eyes found his in question and all he could do was squeeze them shut.

Open your senses. What do you feel?

Love. Tenderness. Safety. Arousal.

Open your eyes. What do you see?

Lust. Hunger. Concern.

What else?

Curiosity. Power. Devotion.

Do you see the obligation, subservience, disgust, or judgment that you have come to fear?

I do not.

His shoulders relaxed and a sly grin spread across his face. His head fell lightly against the wall and lolled slightly to one side. His cock was already hardening in his pants when Gwyn grazed a high cheekbone gently and suggestively across it as she nuzzled him through the fabric of his pants. He nodded, but she simply raised one brow.

"Yes." He breathed, but still, she waited. "Please, Gwyn." She purred at the sound of his begging and nuzzled his cock again affectionately before her hands found his laces once more.

Azriel's head rolled along the wall as he felt her skin on his cock. His eyes landed on their reflection in the mirror. Dark wings spread out against the art deco leaves wallpapered behind him. Gwyn's auburn hair shone almost red against the wall of greens, ivory, and little ribbons of gold. He watched her hair shimmer as her head bent forward and she took him into her mouth. He felt wetness and warmth along his shaft and a vibration that traveled through him as she groaned in pleasure. She liked the taste of him. She liked the power. With a stroke of her firm tongue, joy radiated through the bond and Azriel couldn't say if it was his or if it was hers. It didn't really matter. She swept the length of him from root to tip and he groaned loudly. Gwyn released him with a satisfied smile. His hips moved from the wall to chase her mouth and she pushed him back with a flat hand. Gwyn pressed one finger to her lips again. "Shhh."

Without breaking eye contact, she took his cock into her mouth again and slid her lips down his length. Her nose nearly reached the soft curls along his low stomach and he felt his tip press down into the tightness of her throat. Her eyes widened slightly and then drifted shut. Azriel bit down on his lip and tasted the hint of blood. She moved with a hungry rhythm and Azriel needed to scream or maybe roar. He felt like a king as he continued to feed her his cock. His hands lowered to grip her head. His palms cupped her delicate ears and his thick fingers threaded into her silky hair. His feet slid wider apart and his knees started to bend on their own. The only part of his body that stayed against the wall was the stretch of taut muscle between his shoulders and his wings.

One of her hands wrapped tightly around the base of his cock and squeezed. Her other slid around to grip his ass. She pulled his hips harder against her face. She wanted him to fucked her mouth and he obliged with fervor. She groaned again and pure ecstasy rippled down the bond. He watched them move in the mirror. His heart filled with pride and Azriel released the last shred of his control and shot his seed down his mate's elegant throat.

She was slow to rise. When she did, she was unsteady and her body slid up his front. He collapsed back against the wall. An arm circled her waist and his other hand moved to cup the back of her head. He clutched her to his chest.

Gwyn giggled into his shirt and he couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Az. For trusting me." All he could do was nod with a kiss on the top of her head. She slipped from the room with a wink.

When he'd gathered himself enough to enter the sitting room, Gwyn was talking with Nesta on the couch. He crossed the room to kiss her and tasted a surprising bit of whiskey on her lips.

Clever nymph.

Lady Death is unaware. Our Mate will tell her later.

Even if Nesta had missed the scent of his release on her breath, they would have to be very lucky for Rhys to be oblivious to their dalliance in the bathroom.

No one is that lucky.

Rhys smirked at him from across the room and winked. Apparently, Elain had left to check on her gardens. Lucien was to be her escort through the inky darkness of the late hour. The room buzzed with groups of conversation and Azriel took a seat near the fire. He was mesmerized by the sight of Gwyn lightly stroking a curled mass of shadows pooling in her lap. She was still deep in conversation with Nesta and everything felt at peace. His eyes drifted closed.

"Time to walk home, Az." Gwyn shook him lightly awake and he heard a few chuckles from across the room.

"Was I asleep?" Azriel asked with more than a little shock.

"That. Or someone slipped you a tonic on your trip to the bathroom?" Rhys offered.

"Oh. Hush." Gwyn chided. "He's just still healing. That's all." Gwyn offered calmly, but her smile was shy, and the tips of her ears a stunning sort of pink. "Anyone can fall asleep near the fire."

"Not Az." Rhys countered.

"I said hush." She gathered up the small handful of their things and led him slowly through the door and down the path to the quiet street beyond.

"So." Azriel broke the silence a bit later, as he noted her brow furrowed in a bit of faelight. "What were you and Nesta debating so intently tonight?"

"Tea."

"Tea? Is tea really that engrossing? Isn't it just cream with sugar or honey with lemon?"

"Contraceptive tea and…" She turned to watch his face. "… whether or not to drink it."

"Oh! I see." Azriel felt his throat constrict.

"Have you ever thought about it?"

"Not at all. Until you."

"Can you tell me why not?" Her voice was soft and encouraging. She waited as he gathered his thoughts.

"I guess I never truly believed that I would have a partner I trusted enough, much less find my mate.

She'd also have to want to be a mother and trust me enough to be a good father." He was quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time before she spoke.

"Do you think you'd make a good father?"

"With guidance and support, I think I have it in me to be a good father." Azriel was shocked at how easy it was to admit such a thing to Gwyn. "Plus, not all females can safely carry a child with wings."

"Illyrian females can."

"True. But that is basically irrelevant."

"Tell me why that is irrelevant to you?"

"Most of my life I've rebelled against anything remotely traditional when it comes to Illyria. I know it makes me a coward. After what I've been through and seen done to my mother, it is often hard for me to even be there physically or to be around Illyrian females who suffer under that tradition."

"Your trauma is not your fault. Don't apologize for surviving it. So. You didn't think it was even possible for you to be a father."

"Most mixed births involve an Illyrian female and a High Fae male. Illyrian males are very traditional and with the safety concerns, they will only intentionally impregnate an Illyrian female."

"You didn't say they only have sex with Illyrians."

"You caught that, did you?"

"I did."

"There are obviously ways around it, but Illyrian culture doesn't afford females very many rights.

I'm sorry to say that there are High Fae males who are willing to take advantage of that physically."

"It is starting to change. And there is a lot more that we can do. Look at Emerie."

"Emerie is still very unique in her independence and in her willingness to buck tradition, but you're not wrong. There is more we can and should do."

"So. You'd have to find a mate or partner who you trusted enough…"

"… and I have." She squeezed the arm he'd linked with her own.

"Who was able and willing to carry your child…" She smiled up at him. "… and you have."

"Bless you." His voice was choked. "Fae children are still very rare, love."

"And since I want at least a dozen, I'm thinking we should start right away."

"Nobody has a dozen children."

"My paternal grandmother is the Lady of Autumn and my mother had twins." Azriel felt his throat tighten again. She made an excellent point. "I grew up with Catrin and around so many children at the temple. I know I want this."

"So. What does that mean for us."

"We start trying as soon as I accept the bond, which now that we've had this conversation won't be that far away."

"You're so young, Gwyn."

"You don't think I'm mature enough to be a mother?"

"Not what I was saying. Don't you want to live more of your life before you become a mother?"

"Maybe if I was human, but I'm not. Human women can devote the bulk of their active years getting their children to adulthood. It makes sense to wait. I'm Fae and plan to live for a very long time. Our children will only be young and dependent upon us for the same twenty or so years that most humans spend at home. Plus, if I was still in the temple, I'd have been participating in the Rite for years by now and expected to welcome a pregnancy." Azriel snarled and tasted bile. "I will never be in the Rite. Rhys has seen to it." She patted his arm. "Can you honestly say that any part of the last five centuries wouldn't have been better spent with our children?"

"The war."

"Don't try to close yourself off to love, just because it can be taken from you. I won't allow it."

"It might be that you're actually the more mature one."

"That's very sweet. And cute." She patted his arm. "Everyone already knows that I am."

Intelligence reports usually make more sense with a second cup of coffee in hand, but this one might require a pot. Azriel's newest installation within the Autumn Court had an annoying habit of sending oddly conflicting details without explanation or burying it in a nauseating amount of superfluous detail.

The Townhouse was quiet as Azriel padded down the hallway on bare feet. He squinted at the words on the page, willing them to make sense and to point him in a clear direction. Autumn was a mess. His sigh echoed and he ran a rough hand across the top of his hair. He needed a haircut. It was starting to drop into his eyes. Though Gwyn seemed to enjoy getting a fistful.

Strong Brother approaches. He intends a lengthy visit. He has no news. He smells strongly of morning sex. As do you.

Azriel smirked. It had been a very good morning. He paused only briefly to reach blindly for the front door knob. He set it ajar, but continued his shuffle toward more coffee and hopefully some semblance of clarity.

He could feel Cassian's grin, even without turning. Azriel wore only a pair of loose sleeping pants and a riot of bedhead. It was common knowledge within their Inner Circle that all three brothers preferred to sleep in the buff, but what was probably most shocking to Cassian was that Azriel had developed a penchant for sleeping in. Despite the report tucked under one arm and the empty coffee cup in his hand, it was clear that Azriel was easing into his day.

"Enjoying your morning, Az?" Cassian chucked and Azriel offered him a quiet grunt as he set about boiling the water.

His brother was still smiling as he saddled his meaty frame onto a high stool across the kitchen island to watch Azriel at work. Cassian opened his mouth to say something, undoubtedly something he considered fairly witty, and Azriel decided it was the perfect time to grind some beans. Cassian rolled his eyes, which made it all the sweeter. Sure. It was childish, but these teasing moments with his brothers had brought him an undeniable amount of joy over the centuries.

Azriel poured nearly boiling water over the pile of freshly ground beans and twisted his kitchen timer. The sun was coming through the wall of glass behind him and felt good on his wings and the muscles cording across his back and arms. He placed two large hands on either side of the carafe and stretched to lower his gaze to his brother's seated eye level.

"Are you here to tell me what Gwyn has been up to all week?"

"Gwyn?" Cassian's voice squeaked. That was a good sign. This should be easy.

"You know? Red hair. Teal eyes. Mean roundhouse kick…" Azriel savored a thoughtful and somewhat dramatic pause. "… from either side, if I'm being honest. But, don't tell her that I said so."

"I do know your mate, Az."

"And I know that she is up to something. So…" Azriel's timer buzzed and he slowly pressed down on the plunger on what was shaping up to be an exceptional cup of coffee. "… spill."

"Spill what? She's a busy female. I'm sure she has lots going on. Loads. I mean, what would even give you that idea? You can talk to me. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking.. wow." Azriel enjoyed the trickle of a long pour into his favorite cup and then sipped.

Perfection.

While you enjoy your coffee, your brother is sweating.

You're just jealous that you can't drink coffee.

Shadows do not need coffee.

I don't need… never mind.

"Wow, what? What are your shadows telling you? Is it about me? It's about me, isn't it?" Cassian's leg started to bounce nervously against the stool.

"I think you're getting worse." Sip. "I mean, you've always been an awful liar, but that was positively shameful." Azriel caught a trail of black coffee with the pad of his thumb before it made it halfway down his pristine white cup.

"Not true." Cassian seemed to almost pout.

"You're dreadful." Azriel hissed in response and immediately chuckled.

"Couldn't that be a good thing?"

"Depends on your profession, I guess. Then again, everyone deserves to keep some secrets."

"That's rich coming from you. Seriously though. What makes you think Gwyn is up to something?"

"I'm extremely observant and Gwyn isn't nearly as sneaky as she likes to think that she is."

"In other words, you're sneaky as fuck and Gwyn is just normal." Cassian barked a laugh.

"I'm just a good read of people. For one, you didn't ask if she was here. Chances are… you know where she is right now and I do not." Azriel lifted his cup to his mouth.

The coffee did smell amazing. Somewhere along the way, he had become addicted to the stuff. The shadows were right, but having his first cup of the day while nearly naked in bed with Gwyn was not helping to curb his fondness.

"What have your shadows told you? They always seem to be with her these days."

"They don't tell me crap about her. Not anymore." Azriel shrugged. "They never told me much about Gwyn. Even in the beginning. They defend her privacy and seem to enjoy making me figure things out on my own."

"Seems like a good thing. Everyone needs independence and you don't need to know everything about everyone all the time, you know that right?"

"Speaking of autonomy and snoops, how are Nesta's lessons going with Amren?"

"You're sort of creepy. You know that, right?"

"Calm down. Nesta told me. I didn't spy."

"Oh. That makes sense. She does seem to like you." Cassian looked as though there was more he wanted to say, but he just shook his head. "They're good. The tiny terror is in fits about it, but she says that Nesta should be able to winnow eventually."

"That's amazing." Azriel was genuinely pleased. "Nesta is so attached to the House, but I don't think her fondness extends to the stairs or waiting around for a ride forever."

"It does not."

"So. It's either learn to winnow or sprout wings."

"Exactly."

"How will she get beyond the wards though?"

"Her current plan is to free fall off a balcony and then winnow when she passes through the edge of the wards."

"Damn."

"Yeah."

"You guys are perfectly suited." Azriel ran a hand through his hair again laughing. "I should never have doubted the infinite wisdom of the Cauldron."

"Nice positivity, Az. Though I'd expect nothing less from the male who shares a mating bond with one Gwyneth Berdara."

"Too right." Azriel sipped his coffee and spread his wings a bit wider in the kitchen's growing sunshine.

Cassian looked concerned for a moment before giving voice to his thoughts, though they were offered more to the open air than to his brother. "Emerie wants to tie a giant rubber cord to Nesta's ankles. You know, in case she flubs the winnow. Although that could have been a joke. I hope that was a joke."

"It can be hard to tell with Emerie." Azriel shrugged.

"Ain't that the truth." Cassian nodded and sipped Azriel's coffee.

"I should consider having her watched more carefully. She's trouble. I can tell."

"Shows you're paying attention."

"I'm always paying attention."

"Just for today though, maybe you could stand to be a little less observant. Don't mess this up for Gwyn. Just let her do her thing. Trust me on this."

"I do trust you and I won't push. Now get out of here. I have some reports to review and I don't want to be late for services today."

"You attend services?"

"Every chance I get."

***

That morning's positivity evaporated when the first tremor seized his left hand. Azriel felt a presence slide into the long pew to his right. He didn't turn. His eyes still trained on the spot where Gwyn had stood, though the chapel had emptied some time ago. The scratching of her quill told him who it was, and still, he did not turn.

Azriel wasn't ready to know, and Clotho would tell him. He wasn't ready to say, and Clotho would ask.

The service itself had been beautiful. Gwyn's voice was divine, even more so from the front pew than all the years he'd spent hiding in the back. But the flames had danced in his eyes and his heart had started to race. Gwyn had looked in his direction with alarm, but he managed to smile and calm his heart enough that the bond would appease her and hide his growing panic.

Everyone had filed out, but he'd waved Gwyn off with another smile. He hoped that someone would come to put out the candles, but perhaps they were waiting for him. Even the shadows had known that he was in no mood to talk. So he sat and waited for the courage to weave past the rows and rows of tiny flames.

Clotho either didn't know that he wanted to be alone or didn't approve of the solitude. He'd find out soon enough.

"How do I go to her like this?"

Azriel had spoken his question loud enough for her to hear, but he'd waited long past the moment when he'd noticed that the quill had ceased before he turned. It was rude, but he was in the mood to be at least a little bit rude.

"It is not the sanctuary that you seek, but absolution." He merely nodded in response. "You are the only one who can give you that, Shadowsinger."

"I cannot go to her like this."

"Like what?"

"Broken. Guilty."

"You've done what must be done and you carry the weight that is yours to carry. Actions can only be judged against their alternatives. But then, pain is pain. You've lived what should not be lived, and you've endured. Simplicity is for a child. Gwyn is no child. Neither are you. Choice is for the grown. She has made hers. Have you?"

"Yes. Though it doesn't feel like one. I could never walk away from her."

"She is a force. Gwyneth has a clarity about her that I sometimes envy. I look at her and I know that she was held, cherished, and cooed over as a child. She has known unconditional love without fetter or restraint. It guides all of her steps. Bolsters her every choice. Her every word."

"I'll never have that."

"Let her show you what that can feel like."

"I will never be that child. I cannot go back. Nobody can."

"No. You cannot BE that child, but you can HAVE that child. You can go forward. You can know that bond in a different way. You can be the father you deserved. Anyone can see that it is in you to be that."

"I'm afraid that I don't see it."

"Yes. You do. That's why you're afraid. If you thought it impossible, you wouldn't fear it. You asked me how. This is how. You go to her as you are because that is not your choice. Mourn what you did not receive, but you do not need to be fixed. You will offer her… you will offer your children your best. Perfection is a myth. Love is not."

"She asked me once if I could keep doing this job, if I could be a mate and a father and still be the spymaster. I know I cannot."

"Good." Azriel's head snapped in her direction when he read the word.

"Are you not afraid for our court?"

"I do not diminish what you have done to keep us safe, but what did I tell you about judgment and alternatives? Have the hard conversations. Let Rhysand help you. His skills are useful and he has healed enough to offer them. So has your mate. What was necessary before, may not be necessary now. Once you face that, it will not be so daunting. You are the architect of your life. You do have the power. You just need the will."

Azriel took a deep breath and stood from the pew. With a quick swipe of his hand, the candles fluttered and winked out into tendrils of deep aromatic smoke. His smile was genuine as he strode from the chapel.

***

Azriel tried to dress, but the shadows kept making tweaks to his clothes and his hair. They tugged on his sleeve or brought a new pair of cufflinks he'd never seen. He had never known them to be so quiet or quite so helpful.

Are you guys nervous?

We are not guys and shadows do not get nervous. We are an extension of you. When your mind is calm, there is not much that we need to say. Your fly is down, but your hair looks fine from the back. Stop touching it.

He felt Gwyn as she came down the hall. The bond thrummed and the muscles in his face and chest relaxed. There was a clinching and a tension that seemed to melt as she drew near. He sensed her confidence. At the very least, he could borrow that confidence for a bit.

She entered and the fluttering of her gown made him want to rip it from her skin. She carried a small white box and he could smell sugar on the air. His breath caught for the millionth time at the sight of her.

"What is this?" Azriel figured it was polite to ask, even if he already knew the answer. He gently took the small white box from his mate, but he didn't open it. His eyes drank in the details of her face, nearly drunk on the mischief he found there.

"It's a cupcake." Her voice was strong, but he felt the flutter in her breath and her hands were a touch jittery.

"With a bat on it?" Azriel quirked a brow and smiled. "From you? For me?"

"It isn't a bat," Gwyn responded as he opened the box and peered inside.

"This one looks less like a pegasus than the first one, love." He smirked and felt her relax into it. Into them and their teasing banter. It had always been their center.

"It is a blackbird, but don't ruin everything by being a prick."

"I can try, but I make no promises." Maybe not about the jokes, but he was ready to make the ultimate promise to her. He was ready to do it right now.

"Ok. Remember when you said that all I had to do was offer you food at any moment once I decided I was ready and we would accept the mating bond on the spot? Ceremony or no ceremony. It was up to me."

"Like it was yesterday."

"It wasn't yesterday, but glad to see you're not getting senile on me just yet." Gwyn winked before taking a deep breath and leading him through the House of Wind and out onto the rooftop.

They stepped out into the night together. He knew, without even looking, that he would find each member of their chosen family waiting there for them. As his eyes scanned the dim roof, he found their guests seated quietly on a smattering of cushions in an approximation of a semicircle. They were illuminated by hundreds of tiny candles. His muscles stilled.

The darkness does not consume you. Neither will these flames ever touch you.

At their promise, Azriel watched in stunned silence as a multitude of shadows slid from the darkness beyond the edge of his vision. They pooled along the floor and circled each flame in an orb of dazzling shadow. With Gwyn at his side and the shadows at his back, Azriel had never felt more cherished or more loved.

His gaze snagged on Lucien's shock of familiar red hair and Elain's bright smile. Next to them, he noticed the proud tilt to Nesta's chin and Rhysand's shoulders. He nodded to each in turn. Behind his family were a handful of priestesses from the library choir and Clotho. She smiled back at him. It felt right to have these people with them as they took this step. Everyone was here. Save one. His heart sank with a familiar weight.

Gwyn turned to Azriel. "Rhys went to Rosehall. She wasn't up to coming or hosting all these people. If you'd rather wait, we can. I would understand."

"I know that you would. I will not wait a moment past you deciding that you're ready. She would not want me to wait."

"She did send Rhys back with some advice." Gwyn pointed down to the box in her hand and bounced lightly on her toes. "Carrot cake. Cream cheese frosting. Extra walnuts." Azriel choked back a sob that he hoped sounded more like a laugh.

"Thank you, Gwyn. You are perfect."

"I haven't given you my mating gift yet! It isn't that elaborate. I'm gonna go over there and do a thing. Then you eat the cupcake. Then we leave. Hopefully, very quickly. Rhys has given us a month at the cabin." Azriel nodded to his brother again and smiled. He had his own surprise for Gwyn and was glad to see that Rhys had not managed to blow it.

"Thank you for the cabin, brother."

"That is all your doing, not mine. She will love it, by the way."

"I know my mate, Rhys."

As the priestesses started to hum, the shadows joined with their own beautiful waves of delicate calming sound. Gwyn nodded once to him before taking her place in the center of the circle. She picked up a candle. He noticed it was one of Emina's and she winked at him.

That was when she started to sing. Her voice was quiet at first and full of raw emotion, but she sang with a clarity and heartbreaking tone that pierced the soul of everyone on the roof that night. He felt their emotions. He heard breathing slow or nearly cease. He felt them lean in, waiting to be closer to her and to the power of her love and the simplicity of just being seen and accepted as you are. Everyone felt it and his soul soared with each note.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly.

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see.

All my life, I was only waiting for this moment to be free.

Blackbird fly. Blackbird fly,

Into the light of a dark black night.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly.

All our lives, we were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Gwyn took a shaky breath preparing to continue. Azriel felt emotion start to tighten inside her throat. He could scent the salt of her tears forming in her eyes. Azriel picked up the melody. He had sung for her briefly, but never in his full voice and he had never harmonized with her.

She watched with awe clear on her face, as he stepped toward her. As he stepped into that sacred circle and began to sing in earnest, he felt Feyre and Nesta start to cry. He felt Rhys and Cassian go as still as statues. His full voice was smooth and rich with just the hint of rasp, and they had never really heard it. Never felt its weight. Gwyn was barely breathing.

Been traveling these wide roads for so long

My heart's been far from you, ten-thousand miles gone

I wanna come near and give every part of me

But there is blood on my hands and my lips are unclean

In my darkness I remember, Mama's words reoccur to me

Surrender to the good lord and he'll wipe your slate clean

Take me to your river, I wanna go

Take me to your river, I wanna know

Tip me in your smooth waters, I go in as a male with many crimes,

Come up for air, as my sins flow down the Jordan

In perfect time, Gwyn began to sing again. She stepped closer, but they did not touch. Circling one another, they offered the words as a prayer into the night.

Blackbird fly. You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Take me to your river, I wanna know

Blackbird fly. You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Please, baby take me, take me home, cause I wanna know

Gwyn lifted the tiny cake to his mouth and watched as he nearly took the entire thing into his mouth in one ravenous bite. They dropped the box to the floor with what remained of the cake. One bite was all he needed and then he needed her. Azriel lifted her to his chest with his hands clutching fistfuls of buttery fabric draped along her lower back. His hands slid to her waist and she smiled into his chest.

Az held her to him and snaked his other arm behind her knees. She glanced back at their family and then to him with a nod. She sang one more line before he shot them both into the air.

Blackbird fly into the light of a dark black night.

As they passed the House of Wind wards, they vanished into waiting shadows. Finally, a fully mated pair, starting their life as one.

A heartbeat later, the Shadows managed to place them squarely in the middle of the cabin's one massive bed. While his brain had asked for a dramatic landing at the front door threshold, imagining Gwyn cradled lovingly to his chest and draped delicately across his arms, his body wanted the bed.

You're welcome.

They were a heap of silken wings and muscular limbs. Azriel struggled to extricate his body from the pile and he heard his mate chuckle. His mate. His chest warmed at the thought and the mating bond pulled taut inside him.

Congratulations on not ruining this, Shadowsinger. You've done well considering. We guard the perimeter. Enjoy.

Azriel tried to think of his response, but his mind was blank. For the first time since they had found him, every one of the shadows had retreated outside of the room he occupied. He was truly alone with his mate for the very first time.

He moved deliberately to the foot of the bed. Kneeling into the mattress with his legs spread wide, he placed both hands one atop the other on the small of his back. Azriel lifted his gaze to Gwyn.

She was a sea of rippling waves in the deepest teal. Her gown, as much sapphire as it was emerald, had escaped his notice on the roof. His eyes had barely left hers for the entire ceremony, but his rough hands had detected silk as she slid against him in the air. The faint faelights around the room glowed against her skin and he drank in the sight of her. She slipped and darted across the expanse of white sheets in a fit of giddy laughter making her way toward the headboard.

"I will not move until you command it, my love," Azriel spoke softly.

"Oh. I know." And she did know.

Gwyn had answered his softness with a smooth drawl all her own. She moved her hands slowly across solid mahogany. Azriel had learned over these many months that his mate was extremely tactile. She liked the feel of things under her hands and through her fingers. He enjoyed that about her quite a bit.

She turned slowly, gathering up the length of her dress with both hands swinging lightly across the middle of her thighs. Gwyn mirrored his stance perfectly and Azriel smiled. His body thrummed like a bowstring. He needed to move. He needed to touch her. Gwyn opened her mouth to give the command. But then she shut it and her lips pulled into a knowing smirk.

Azriel groaned. "Gwyneth!"

"Do you have a question for me, Commander?" Gwyn purred and turned to face the headboard. Her dress was cut dangerously low in the back and Azriel was tempted to rip it to shreds, just to ensure that she never wore it in public again. She teased him with a playful shake of her perfectly round ass. She placed both hands on the headboard and glanced over her shoulder at him.

Azriel groaned again. "Release me or you may need to be punished, my dear."

"You don't say, Commander?"

"Don't toy with me, Gwyneth! Not now."

"Wouldn't dream of it." She turned to prop her back against the headboard and spread her legs wide between them. She was bare beneath her dress.

"Strip." She pointed a delicate toe in his direction. "Otherwise. You do not move." Her eyes were burning metal and she watched him with a predatory stare.

Azriel reached down to unbutton his shirt with shaking fingers. He closed his eyes briefly as he ripped it off over his head. Gwyn smiled and nodded toward the laces of his pants with a demanding chin. His pants fell to the ground clear across the room. Gwyn giggled and removed her gown in one glorious sweep of her pale arm over her head. Her gown joined his clothes on the floor and still, she did not release him.

Gwyn resumed her position against the headboard. He couldn't take his eyes off her glistening core, but his ears enjoyed each of her breaths, coming out in short, feral pants. He growled and she answered it with one of her own. His eyes flashed to hers again. His cock stood proud and eager, but Azriel did not move.

Gwyn's eyes trailed down his body and she sucked lightly on her bottom lip. She swung her knees

wider and slid further down the headboard in tantalizing offer. Still, she did not release him.

"Do you remember your safe word?" She asked him carefully, as her hands skimmed the inside of her thighs. His cock twitched at the implication.

"Our safe word." He corrected though he did not doubt that he'd be the one using it first.

"Our safe word." She agreed hungrily. Then she huffed and played at boredom, still stroking her spread thighs.

"Science. And do you promise to use it, Gwyneth?" He locked her with his stare.

"And do you promise not to hold back on me unless I do use it, Commander?"

"Release me and find out," Azriel growled his threat and Gwyn smiled at his promise.

"To me." She jerked her head to release him. But the moment the first syllable left her lips, Azriel was moving.

He wrapped both hands behind her shins to grab her muscular calves and dragged her from the headboard toward his waiting cock. Azriel lowered his face and feasted on her. He licked and sucked and nipped in all the ways that he knew she needed. Just as he felt her body relax into the pleasure, he pressed her legs together and shoved them both off to one side. He only had a moment to relish her clear confusion, because a heartbeat later he slid her knees into the crook of his elbow and flipped her onto her stomach.

"You've earned a punishment, Gwyneth."

"Do I look frightened to you?" She purred over a shoulder and rolled her eyes at him.

"No. There is no fear in you now."

Azriel grabbed her hips roughly. He used the pressure of both palms to spread and tilt, before pulling her back and impaling her pussy on his massive cock. He was buried to the hilt in one powerful pump of her hips. Azriel held his stance, barely moving, as he pushed and pulled her body onto his own.

"Yes!"

Gwyn screamed and his heart nearly burst with unbridled joy. Months ago this level of trust and raw abandon was inconceivable for either of them. He pulled her hard a few more times with the sound of skin-on-skin echoing through the cabin. He knew she'd have bruises from his fingers digging into the front of her hips, but she'd been proud of the bruises he'd left before and he didn't spare a bit of worry.

"Hands on the wall."

Gwyn moved immediately at his command, eager to comply, with a smirk he was sure he didn't fully understand. Azriel knew better than to press her face into the mattress or to grab her by the shoulders from behind, but that barely crossed his mind anymore.

Giving her pleasure and taking his own from her body had become second nature between them. As she braced herself and arched her back invitingly, Azriel started to thrust into her again. He set a less punishing pace this time, but he knew that his cock was hitting a spot deep inside her. It was that spot that he knew would bring them both release in a matter of moments.

"Can you feel that? Feel how deep I am, baby?"

"Yes!" Gwyn panted, barely able to form the word.

"I'm going to fill you with my cum. Spill everything I have inside you. Would you like that? You want that?" He was grunting and not entirely sure when he decided to say these things to her. He just needed this to be different. Primal. Animalistic need to fill her with more than just his cock. More than just pleasure. He felt her orgasm start to build as her walls fluttered around him at the idea.

"Please, Az. Please." She was chanting and pressing her ass back against his stomach to meet each of his thrusts. "Fill me. I want you dripping down my thighs." Her orgasm peaked around him and she groaned and shuttered her release. Azriel's hips snapped forward in short, frantic thrusts that he could barely control. He came hard and deep inside his mate's demanding core.

***

"Do I hear water?"

Gwyn was sprawled on the bed next to him and her words were muffled by the damp sheets. They were both too sweaty to cuddle, but they needed to be touching. She had an arm thrown across his middle and a knee pressed lightly against the inside of his thigh.

"Yes. You do." Azriel leaned back to look her in the eye. "Are you really just now noticing that we are not actually at my brother's cabin in the mountains?" She sat up suddenly and looked around the room for apparently the first time.

"Don't look so smug. I've never been to the cabin before. Where are we then?"

"This is our cabin."

"Our cabin?"

"Built just for us. Rhys rushed the contractor like a madman. I can guess why now?" She blushed. Gwyn clambered to her feet and looked out the window.

"So. That the Sidra?" She pointed to the bit of rushing water over rocks that ran near the cabin.

"Yes. We are a ways upstream from the River House." He started to get nervous, but he wasn't sure why. "It is secluded enough for privacy, but you can walk anywhere you need from here. You can come here whenever you want and you don't have to wait for help to leave."

"And the Townhouse?" He heard tears in her voice, but she was looking away from him.

"We can stay there mostly," Azriel assured her. He knew that she had become attached to the Townhouse, just as he had. "Rhys says that it is ours too. This cabin.."

Gwyn spun to scan the one main room around them."… it doesn't have a kitchen."

He could see the tears now. "No. I know it is barely furnished. I did make sure there was a bed."

"Priorities." She nodded and wiped the tears with the back of her hand.

"I didn't hear any complaints a few hours ago." She shrugged and Azriel stood to show her around.

"There is a hook for pots in the hearth and a small wood stove in the corner. A sink for washing and Feyre found that beautiful antique sideboard. I made sure it is fully stocked with dishes, a coffee press, and such."

"Do I smell stew?"

"Yes. I believe that was Cerridwen. She knows it's my favorite. There should be bread and that good salted butter around here too. Rhys will make sure food is delivered for the next few weeks, but I do think he intends to starve us out if we wait too long."

"Is that the bathroom?"

"Yes."

"Is it my imagination or does that wallpaper match the hall bathroom in the River House."

"You mean our bathroom? Yes. It does. I asked for that specifically."

"It isn't in our house, so it cannot be our bathroom."

"It will always be our bathroom to me."

"And these?" Gwyn ran a hand along the pure white built-in bookshelves that filled the far wall.

"Those are for our books."

"You have manuals, not books. Is this one?" Gwyn walked naked across the room to the near-empty shelves and picked up a small notebook. "Is this…?" She opened the front cover and laughed to see her own handwriting.

"Your tiny notebook isn't really a manual, although it could turn into one. Figured we might need to add some new notes on your experiments."

***

"Why do you look so nervous?" Gwyn ran a hand down the front of his shirt. "You said we would visit when we got back from the Autumn Court mission."

The pair hovered near the door to Rosehall, but Azriel had yet to knock on it. "I did say that."

"We have been back for weeks now."

"My mother is just … interesting."

"Interesting how? I'm sure she has been through a lot."

"It isn't that.. or maybe it is. It is hard to say at this point."

"Why don't…" Gwyn's voice was cut off by a loud bellow from inside the house.

"Did you come to visit the door?" His mother chuckled. "I daresay it didn't miss you one bit!"

Azriel sighed, closed his eyes, and pushed open the door. His mother sat at a sturdy table near the large garden window. An elaborate spread of dishes laid out before her.

"How was the cake?" Blunt as always.

"Mom, this is.."

"Gwyneth. I assumed as much. And I'm Mom. Now, don't bother me with triviality. So. How did the cake turn out?"

"Passable," Gwyn responded and his mother grunted as though she had expected as much when she sent the recipe. She did not look disappointed. She never enjoyed being outdone in the kitchen.

"It was good!" Azriel assured her. Both females narrowed their eyes to study him thoughtfully.

"Has he always been an awful liar?" Gwyn asked, turning to face his mother.

"No. He is quite proficient. You, child... well, between the two of you, I would guess you would be

the inartful liar."

"That is why I make sure that I never do it." Gwyn chirped with confidence.

"Clever girl." His mother gestured toward the empty seats before her. "Please. Sit."

"Thank you." Gwyn nodded and sat. Azriel hesitated. This was going to be worse than he feared.

"I am sorry if I seem gruff." His mother sighed. "It is just that my son has been alone for so long, that I am out of practice." She smoothed the front of her dress. "And before that… he had such awful taste in females, you see."

"Mom!" Azriel chastised.

"Oh. I do see. Horrible taste." Gwyn was nodding sagely.

"Wretched." His mother countered.

"Disturbing even," Gwyn added as she sipped her tea, and his mother smirked.

"I like her." His mother nodded. Having made her decision.

"I hear that a lot." Azriel agreed.

"I'm sure you do." Gwyn's shoulders seemed to relax at his mother's tone.

"We would have come sooner, but we were on a mission in the Autumn Court." He started to explain but was cut off by his appalled mother's shout.

"We? Did you take Gwyneth on a mission? When was this?" She was looking frantically between the two of them, clearly demanding answers and possibly seeking to have both of them sent to an asylum.

"Mom.." Azriel started to try to calm her, although he knew it was useless.

"Highly inappropriate!" She shouted at Gwyn, probably louder than she intended.

"I'll have you know…" Gwyn sat straight in her chair and locked his mother with a matching stare.

She was starting to protest her punishment, clearly offended.

"My mother comes from a different…" Azriel was nearly whispering to Gwyn.

"Don't talk down to me, boy!" His mother would have none of his dismissal. "I enjoy her spunk. She's going to need it." She seemed calmed by Gwyn's clear and powerful ire. "I'm sure you had your reasons, dear. Now. Fetch me the pickled herring off the top shelf, Azriel. Since I'm so backward in my culture, I might as well eat as I damn please in my own house."

Azriel sighed but did as she bid. As he stood, he noticed Gwyn take in the sight of his mother's wings. Compared to Emerie's crude procedure, his mother's wings were delicately clipped. No more useful than their friend's, but they didn't hang at the odd angle of hers. He was sure that Gwyn was making the comparison.

His father had been proud of how artfully his mother's wings were clipped. He looked at her then, he saw what Gwyn must have seen looking upon her for the first time. Her left eye drooped and she had a deep scar just under her bottom lip that Azriel remembered painfully was where her teeth pierced through the flesh when punched. Twice. Hopefully, his mother didn't notice Gwyn watching her.

Mother misses nothing.

"Your scent, child…" His mother began haughtily, but Gwyn cut her off.

"I'm part water nymph." Azriel was returning from the pantry, just as Gwyn responded.

Mother always did prefer retribution, over confrontation.

Exactly so.

For the first time, Gwyn sounded nervous discussing her heritage. He should have told her that his mother would not care. She would love it.

"Obviously. How extraordinary?!" Something in his mother's tone told him that Gwyn's nymph heritage was not a surprise and not actually what she had been referring to when she spoke. "But there is another scent. Slightly male, but also not. Very odd. I've never encountered such a scent combination before."

"Well. We are newly mated, Mother. You could just be smelling me."

"IF you continue to speak as though I am an imbecile, I may be forced to start throwing grapes at your pretty face, my son."

"You wouldn't!" As the words left his mouth, a plump purple table grape hit him squarely in the forehead. "I'm sitting here and I know what I smell and…"

His mother held out a plate to Gwyn. It had a bit of pickled fish with capers and red onion. She smiled knowingly, as they both watched Gwyn turn a stunning shade of green. His mate rushed past him to the bathroom. The door was barely shut before they heard the sound of Gwyn heaving.

"As I said, I'm sitting here the same as you and I know the smell of a mated female." His mother rubbed her hands together. "I can't wait to meet them."

"Them?" Azriel squeaked.

"Do twins run in her family? How delightful!" She closed the lid on the pickled fish with a scrunched-up nose. "This really is disgusting stuff. I just keep it around for show."

"You did that on purpose!?"

"Well, of course, dear. It is rude to just ask a female such things. Plus, the sweet child probably didn't even know. Her mother is gone. She's surrounded by newly made females."

"She didn't say anything to me. She must not have known." Azriel's voice was thin and foreign in his ears.

"Of course not. This is all new for both of you." She patted his knee affectionately. "Perhaps I will come to stay in that library of yours. If for no other reason than to be closer to my growing little family."

The shadows laughed. The mating bond hummed. And Azriel heard wind and waves and the lilting giggle of carefree children crash through his heart with the force of a hurricane.