#acotar reader

Documenting, filing, and cataloguing—the simplest of tasks for a seasoned Spymaster—should have taken no more than a few hours at best. And yet, Azriel glared at the stacks of paperwork sitting on his desk. As soon as he arrived home, he set out to clear them in hopes of sneaking out before any of his brothers pestered him about his recent disappearances, not that his affair was a secret. Half a day later, there he was in his gloomy office with nerves on edge. 

A simple mission of surveillance had turned into a hunt of hostile outliers along the southern borders, stealing weeks from him. Luckily, he hadn’t promised N an early return. He felt guilty nonetheless for leaving her with no word.

A sadistic part of his heart wondered if she cared about him—lying awake in bed, listening for footsteps on her stairs, or rushing home to see if he was waiting for her.

Once, he returned from a similar mission earlier than expected and let his shadows stalk her for two days to see how she spent the days without him. That night, Azriel decided he was a twisted man.

Sometime after noon, he accepted his fate. He had half a mind to fling the papers into Sidra and run to N’s smithy to surprise her. How childish of him. A grown man excited to watch his lover’s face break into a kaleidoscope of emotions. N wouldn’t run into his arms, he knew, like the romantics fantasised. She was not a woman of such calibre. 

N embraced every fleeting moment with a nonchalance that bordered on lethargy. And it seeped into their relationship as well. She loved him simply—with her generous compliments, intentional touches, and domestic ease around him. She always had a smile for him. Her hands always found his hair or cheek when they lay in bed together. Sometimes, they ventured as far as his scarred ones, brought them to her lips that delivered the faintest of kisses before she drifted to sleep. Her words were nothing but genuine and certain. 

Azriel could vividly see the expression on her face if he materialised before her. She would look at him with sincere eyes, bright as the morning sun, and the corners of her lips would tug into a smile. ‘So how long do I get to keep you this time?’ she would tease.

Maybe, Azriel thought, that is enough.

Knowing she missed him dearly enough to mock his departure every time. But she also kissed him every time, she held him to her chest every time, and she looked him in the eye when they made love every time.

A cool shade fell over the room. His eyes strained to find the lines and curves he marked in black. Sweat trickled from behind his ears. Gone was the unforgiving sun crisping anything that dared set foot on the ground. With a roar of thunder that shook every stone in the walls, rains poured down. N. Azriel gathered the papers away in no order and left for the one place he knew her to be. 

Standing in front of the locked doors, he felt like a fool. The rain beat down on his leathers, mocking him. The heat from the forge radiated out of the grilled window. She was there and had left not long ago.

What did he come here for? To protect her from a rain? Or did his heart latch onto the only viable excuse presented to him at the moment? Yes, he thought, that must be it.

Azriel headed down the path to her home at the centre of the square, a long walk from her shop on the outskirts of the town. I like to work in the quiet, she had said, imagine how tempting it must be when someone’s bothering you and you have molten iron in your hands. He knew she could fight, but the last thing he suspected of his delicate lover was making tools of death and destruction. 

He hurried, short of sprinting, to catch her before she was soaked like a street rat, cold and wet. He let out an amused chuckle looking down at his own leathers. The things the woman made him worry about.

N had left earlier than usual. The way she moved, she should be home. But when Azriel’s steps faltered along the wet roads, he wasn't sure.

The streets were bare except for the few still seeking shelter from nature’s onslaught. Save for the stark silhouette of buildings and blobs of life that swished and slashed through, nothing could be seen past the wavering white veil.

A lone figure caught his eye. Edging along the walls, it braved the storm—an arm pressed to the forehead, another around the torso, shoulders hunched forward and face averted.

She looked worse than a drenched rat. Her clothes clung to her, too light to protect her from the prick of rain. The satchel across her body sagged and sagged, the seams threatening to burst at the bottom, pulling her down with it.

Azriel cursed himself. He closed the distance between them in quick strides and stretched a wing over her head. It didn’t offer much protection, but it allowed her to look up at the godsend cover and face him with a knowing smile.

The space between her brows furrowed and her eyes crinkled at the corners. Drops of water tugged at her eyelashes for mere seconds before making their descent down her pale cheeks. Her braid turned into a tangled mess, tendrils sticking to anything in their path like claws curling into her skin.

‘Want me to take you home?’

She nodded once, without hesitation, without a thought. He smiled and took her in his arms. She was shaking. Azriel preferred flying above the clouds, but he decided against it.

Between ‌her two broken breaths, his shadows dropped them on the landing in front of her house. N clutched his arms as her feet steadied under her. Letting go of him, she removed her satchel. Her arms strained under its weight. It hit the floor with heavy, contesting clanks. Probably leftovers of her day’s work that she couldn’t leave behind unfinished, even in her hurry. 

‘When did you return?’ She asked, removing her muddied boots. The leather fought worse than her bag. 

Azriel followed her cue and removed his own filthy one. ‘This morning.’ As he took off his other boot, N unbuttoned her pants. He lifted a brow. 

She chuckled, her lips trembling from the cold. ‘I’d hate to clean the house in this weather. Take your clothes off too.’ 

He gave her a dirty grin before he looked over his shoulder. The staircase behind him led to the bar downstairs. He didn’t care to be seen naked. But N? She was only for his eyes. He adjusted his wings to span the width of the narrow space, hiding her from any intruders’ view.

‘No one comes up here at this hour,’ she said as she moved on to her shirt and the tunic underneath. Her legs gave a tremor even with his warmth next to her. 

Just an inch of her bare skin made Azriel’s mouth water. And she stood there in her underwear. Mother, how much he missed her. His eyes wandered over her body—pale, cold, wet—unabashed as he undressed and tossed his clothes next to hers.

N shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. She opened the door to her one-room apartment, undoing her braid. He held on to her hips and trailed her, planting kisses on her shoulder. Her hand found his as she led him into the bathroom. It was bright, unlike his own, white and pristine. It was spacious but not enough for him, for his wings. And yet, Azriel followed her without a complaint, like a starved dog catching the scent of food after days of hunger.

Hot water hit their naked bodies. He traced his rough, scarred hands along her skin. Firm, littered with healed cuts and white scar tissue, still the softest he ever had the pleasure to touch. N shoved his hands away as she lathered herself, only to laugh when they found her again. Azriel didn’t mind that he tasted more soap than her skin on his lips with each kiss. Gods, was he desperate. 

Usually, she queried him about his day, or why he took so long. Or made a crude comment about how much she needed him only to hear him growl with desire. That day, she smiled and cleaned them both in silence with no words to distract him from her soothing touch. A proper tease.

When he wrapped his arms around her stomach and tugged her against his chest, she smacked at him. His wings flared, sending bottles off the shelf nailed to the wall. His shadows caught them before they hit the bathtub on the other side of the room.

‘Stop it,’ she giggled, soft and sweet. ‘You’re wrecking the place.’

Azriel buried his nose into her hair. Covered in soap, he still smelled her past the fragrance of jasmine. Sharp and clear, with a hint of melting iron. ‘I’ll buy you a new place.’

She laughed. A full, open laugh that shook her body. Azriel smiled. His heart tightened in his chest.

The bond was meant to tie him to her, draw him to her. He was prepared for the craving for her body, the lust that devoured him. But this was deeper. This ran in his very soul—taking his breath away unless it was the same air she breathed.

N turned around and pushed him a step back. ‘A minute, Azriel. Give me one minute,’ she said through her little laughs. She stood under the shower, tipped her head back, closing her eyes.

She didn’t understand it. She wouldn’t know his need for her unless she felt it too. She loved him though. She never said those words. But he saw the signs. In the looks she gave him, in her smiles, in the way she cared for him sometimes after long missions.

Azriel waited for the bond to piece together for her. Eighteen months. And he hadn’t told her about his torment either. It was his to bear for the time being.

He held his breath and watched the heat bring colour back to her skin, her cheeks coming alive—supple and flush. Her hair shone brighter. Her body stopped shivering and yet she draped her arms below her ribs. 

Divinely simple and utterly bare only for him.

‘Your minute’s up,’ he whispered and stepped up to her, his hands on her hips.

She opened her eyes. ‘Hi.’ She smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

Finally.

She pulled him close by his elbows. Water ran down his back and wings. She turned them around and backed away. Azriel blinked. Her laughs filled the room. N stood by the door and dried her hair. 

‘You tricked me,’ was all he said. His hands were immobile by his side, too shocked by what she had done, by what he hadn’t noticed. He was a spy, for Mother’s sake.

‘I asked you nicely.’ She patted down her body, her teasing eyes on him. ‘Now get done quick. Or do you want to stand there all night?’ And she walked out.

Azriel narrowed his eyes at her form disappearing beyond the threshold. His wings twitched, and he rolled his shoulders. He was quick, alright. He turned off the water and was out and on her in a blink. N let out a yelp when her back collided with his dripping chest. Azriel sucked on her—her neck, her shoulders, her arms. He didn’t care. As long as he had her warmth and taste. 

‘Fine, I’m sorry.’ Another laugh escaped her lips as she struggled to break free of his hold. 

Crazed like an addict taking his first hit after withdrawal, Azriel gasped against her skin. ‘Only because you asked so nicely.’ He loosened his grip. 

N faced him. She held the towel to his body—drying his neck, chest, arms, and back—slowly leading him to her bed. She left his wings untouched. She took her time while Azriel peppered pecks on her face. Anything to quench his thirst. 

‘Do you care so much for me?’ He smiled into a kiss he left on her ear. Her attention made his heart flutter.

She grinned, ‘Gods no, I don’t want you to ruin my bed.’ 

‘Your bed gets ruined every time I’m here,’ he said, teasing the shell of her ear with his tongue. A shiver went down her spine, and Azriel basked in the scent that filled the room. Her scent. The one that cried out for him, desperate and needy as him.

N tamed her face, wearing the mask of a woman who had an agenda. She pushed him back and he fell onto the mattress. She moved between his legs, a knee perched at the edge of the bed, and caressed his cheek. Her eyes were soft and caring.

He wished for nothing more than to stare into them all his life. One look at them and every moment in his life he felt unloved and unworthy was erased from his being.

His wet hair stuck to his forehead, their tips scratching at his eyelids. N brought the towel to his head. She was as gentle as ever, but Azriel couldn’t waste a second without gazing at that beautiful face of hers. He shook out of her hold, ducking his head and turning. 

‘Stop acting like a child,’ she laughed.

He grunted, ‘You’re smothering me,’ but it sounded like a whine to his ears.

‘Then stop moving!’

With a sigh, he gave up. Gods, what he wouldn’t do for her. He sat still and N allowed him the mercy to look at her. He rested his hands on her thighs, rubbing circles with his thumbs. He couldn’t help the sighs that left his lips every minute. He smiled up at her, capturing every feature on her face with the eyes of a devotee graced upon by his benevolent god. 

When N deemed him less of a sodden pup, she ran her fingers through his damp hair. She untangled each strand carefully, tugged them away from his eyes, and let them fall in their natural disarray. Her nails raked through his scalp, from his hairline to the base of his neck.

Azriel purred under her fingers. It took everything in his body not to fight against her ministrations and crush her body against his. His wings fluttered.

N looked at them and back into his eyes. Azriel nodded, his wings opening into a spread close to his body, close enough for her to reach. Droplets littered the membrane, too light to slide off under gravity. She barely touched the towel to his wing, and it twitched. She waited for a breath and tried again. This time, it held still. She repeated her movements, each time more careful than the last, from one spot to the next as gingerly as possible. 

Azriel closed his eyes. His hands smoothed over her waist, his fingers digging into her tender flesh, and pulled her close. Warmth from her body hit his face. He leaned forward, resting his forehead between her breasts. He felt her heart beat under her skin. Steady, lulling. 

That’s when he realised. It wasn’t lust that drew him to her or his bond. It was her—the solace she promised—a world far away from the treacherous reality he endured in his job, away from the nightmares of his past that haunted him, away from the loud and rush of this unjust one. 

With her, he could be still. 

With her, he could breathe. 

With her, he could just be.

She froze every minute he spent with her, entrapping him in her delicately spun cocoon of comfort. She didn’t need her words, her touch or her body. She breathed and tension in his body and soul melted away. The ghosts that followed him around faded into nothingness. Every pain in his mind, forgotten. 

She offered him life. Ecstasy at its purest.

The fabric that separated her from his wings was gone, discarded. Her fingertips grazed the outer curve of his wing. Azriel buried his face into her chest. If she allowed, he would crawl into her soul and stay there in its protection, in its everlasting, glowing warmth. He wanted nothing more than her in his life. He feathered his lips over her sternum. His wings wound around them, begging for more. He tugged her closer and pressed a kiss to her heart. The one he yearned to possess. 

N settled on his lap. Her delicate body pressed against his desperate one. Azriel looked up. With a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, she nudged him out of his swarming thoughts.

‘You’re a handful, you know that? You don’t make it easy to care for you.’

He smiled. ‘I missed you.’ He smiled a lot around her as if she drew each one out from the very depths of him.

Mischief sparkled in her eyes. She rolled her hips against his, ‘Oh, I can feel that.’

Azriel groaned and eventually laughed. ‘You’re naked in my arms. And you’re touching my wings. Can you blame me?’ His eyes darkened when she moved her hips again. ‘Kiss me. Now,’ he growled.

And for the first time that day, N obliged. She kissed him long and slow. Her lips were soft, plush, and pulsing with life. Her breaths warmed his skin. She pushed her body into his, and for the first time that day, she set her desires free. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her fingers laced together on the back of his neck, pulling him close. She leaned back when he dipped and chased him when he pulled back. It was a dance she was a master at, syncing to his body’s rhythm as if she knew it better than him. 

Azriel adored her tender love, but he needed more. He grabbed her damp hair into a fist. N whimpered into his mouth and he swallowed it whole. He was determined to lay claim to every inch of her soul if that’s what it took to make her his. He tugged her hair, and she arched her back with a long moan. He ran his teeth along her beautiful neck she offered for his taking. Her hands only pulled him closer. 

His mate. His willing prey.

N wrapped her legs around his waist. Azriel crawled deeper into the bed and laid her down gently. He pulled back to admire her one more time, stroking her cheek as she smiled. He pecked her lips once and flipped her onto her stomach ripping a choked gasp from her.

‘Trust me?’ He breathed against her ear.

She nodded. He kissed the side of her neck, her shoulder, and all the way down her back, enjoying every shiver that rattled her to the core. He sank his teeth into her waist just to make her yelp and glare over her shoulder. When he soothed the spot with a lick, she rolled her eyes smiling. He kissed all the way up until he found her lips again. His body relaxed against hers with careful pressure. He sighed.

‘I missed you,’ he murmured below her ear. 

Doubt crept into his pathetic heart every time she eluded his words. Once in a while her feelings crept over the string between their hearts like a spider, too little a thing for him to notice, but present nonetheless. Invisible and lurking, and always out of his reach. With the bond in place for him already, though he should have been able to feel her emotions, he barely did.

He needed to hear her words. He needed her to say those words and some more.

‘Then what are you waiting for?’ She asked, as breathless as he.

Azriel chuckled darkly, ‘Tell me you missed me.’ His shadows emerged for the play. They swept her hair aside for their master to suckle on her neck.

‘I’ll show you if you stop teasing.’

The seduction in her voice alone tempted Azriel to destroy her until she was a mess for him, whimpering and declaring her love for him.

He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her face close. ‘Words first,’ he growled as his other hand closed on her breast. A thumb ghosted over her nipple before he pinched it between his fingers.

N looked over her shoulder, her eyes dark and wide. ‘I missed you,’ she kissed the corner of his lips, sucking on the skin she could reach. Azriel eased his grip and then she spoke again, ‘So much that I was dreaming of your fingers every night.’

Azriel laughed. His body shook over hers, the sound reverberating through her being. ‘Such a tease,’ he closed his eyes and nuzzled into the side of her face, ‘You sure do know how to get your way.’

He slipped his fingers between her legs and hummed as he ran a digit along her slit. N held her breath, her hands clawing at the sheets. He caressed the inside of her thigh until she whined. When he tucked his hand under her leg and pulled it aside, N gasped at the cold air’s kiss on her wet core.

Azriel breathed in her scent—a fresh, sharp, intoxicating sweetness that ensnared his senses right before she stole pieces of his soul. He teased her entrance with his fingers, her lips smooth and slick against his scarred skin. When he slipped them inside, her breaths shuddered into broken mists.

He worked her with slow and deliberate strokes, for his own sanity than hers. He etched every groove and bend of his favourite maze into his memory. He kissed her lips as he pulled his fingers out and spread her slick onto his neglected cock. The moan that tore from his throat was one he would be embarrassed for life. But her mesmerised eyes on his lips erased any notion of it.

He grabbed her hip and entered her slowly as she welcomed him with a sigh. He stayed still, listening to her stuttering breaths against the echoes of rain.

So intimate, so real. 

N laced her fingers with his on her hip. ‘I missed this,’ she whispered.

This.

Not 'you'.

Ignoring the stab in his chest, Azriel grasped her hands in each of his and tucked them under her chin. He pulled out until the very tip and drove back in. Her moan pierced through the cries of the storm. He repeated his movements, sliding out with care and sliding in with fury. His breaths turned into groans, angry and beastly. He bit into her neck, her shoulder, between her blades to stop more desperate words from spilling out.

N touched his knuckles with her lips. She covered his hand with kisses, from his wrist to fingertips, worshipping every inch of his marred hand. She let her tongue slick over a particularly ragged part of his skin whose mere sight blurred his vision with vengeance for what he had endured. 

Azriel pinched his eyes shut. Letting go of her hand, he clutched her jaw. ‘Don’t,’ he hissed.

Foolish woman. She leaned into his hand as if it wasn't that of a killer, as if it wasn’t capable of offering nothing but a sweet embrace. She carded her fingers through his hair, cradling his face close. And brushed her lips over the length of the fingers that ghosted over them.

‘Azriel,’ she uttered his name as if it soothed her. As if she had been waiting for this moment just like him.

His hip bucked. ‘Say it again, say my name.’ 

‘Azriel.’

‘Again,’ he said against her skin, his voice coated in desperation.

‘Azriel.’ 

And she chanted his name with each breath.

His thrusts faltered. He closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair. He wasn’t a worthy contender for her vicious tenderness. Yet, she gave it to him in earnest. ‘Touch yourself for me,’ he whispered in her ear.

Her hand obeyed. She moved her leg higher, offering her every depth to him. She circled her clit slowly, with the slightest of pressure. Her slick trailed down her fingers and she writhed under him. She gave him her moans; she gave him her body; she gave him her pleasure.

‘That’s it, baby. Make yourself feel good.’ He hummed at her misery, his cock delivering the faintest taste of what he suffered at her ignorance. 

Her cunt pulsed around him, gripping him until pleasure laced with pain with each slide. N whimpered and arched her back, pushing her hips into him. His hand on her jaw slipped to her throat, the only thing that kept her from curling away from him. She stared into his eyes, baring her soul for him. Her legs trembled, desperate to close, and his shadows crept up to hold them in place. She gasped when a few wisps searched for her soaked fingers and circled her skin. 

‘Shh,’ Azriel kissed her temple, ‘I know.' He pressed his tender lips to her cheek, a devastating contrast to his thrusts, ‘Come for me.’ 

And after a breath, she did.

The bond reeked of desire.

His and hers. His desperation, her relief. His longing, her content.

Azriel sank his teeth into her shoulder, hard—injecting the venom coursing through his veins into her, poisoning her with her own medicine, sharing the agony she inflicted upon him.

His heart was a house on fire, the mating bond a fuse, and she, the one with a match.

He pried her fingers away from her core and shoved them into his mouth. He purred at her taste, his chest rumbling against her back. With two staggering moves, he attained the same heavenly pleasure she did.

His hands wrapped around her, his legs intertwined with hers, and her body reaching out to his in a way that could only be described as a lover’s despair—the way they were meant to be. One and whole. Every breath, shared and stolen. Every touch, burning and soothing. 

Their moans stopped and their breaths calmed. Finally, the sounds of the world rushed back to his ears. The distant echo of the angry rain, the soft music from the bar below, the ghostly whispers that never turned into anything coherent. N sagged into the bed, loosening her grip on his fingers. 

Azriel eased her leg, massaging it with a careful hand. He kissed her cheek. ‘Talk to me,’ he said, ‘You okay?’

N nodded. ‘That was. . .’ she said between breaths, ‘intense.’

‘Good intense?’ He smiled against her shoulder, kissing the spots left by his canines where blood threatened to break through her skin.

‘“You should go on long missions more often” intense.’ 

He nipped her ear. ‘Say the word. And I will take you any way you want, whenever you want.’ He rolled onto his back, adjusting his wings under him. N looked at them with fascination. He pulled her to his chest, ‘Don’t unless you want to go again.’

She chuckled. ‘I can’t even look at them?’

‘You can do anything you want to them,’ he murmured to her lips, ‘Just give me a warning.’ His wing draped over her, the curved tip grazing up her leg as if agreeing to him, consenting to her. 

They remained silent for a long time, tracing swirls on each other’s skin. A moment frozen in time, drenched in comfort and warmth. Azriel ran his fingers through the lengths of her hair, damp more from his sweat than their shared shower. Every inch of her was marked by his presence. He smiled.

‘Azriel?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Next time come by sooner so that I can stop worrying.’ She was watching the rain through the glass door that stood between them and the balcony. Before he could remark, she added smiling, ‘The weather is nice.’ 

Azriel glanced over his shoulder. Winds howled—changing course every minute, spouting rain in every direction. The metal bird feeder suspended from the ceiling rattled and screeched. It swayed wildly close to breaking off its hinges. Water trickled along the walls, moving steadily towards the threshold.

He looked back at her and lifted a brow. ‘Nice? You’re about to be flooded.’

‘Maybe,’ she smiled up at him. Pulling a blanket over their bodies, ‘But I can do this,’ she wrapped an arm around his torso, pressing into him with a long sigh.

Azriel trailed his index along her cheek, down her jaw. He ached to let his will crumble and give in to his impulse. He only did it thrice after the bond snapped for him, too afraid to feel the nothingness again. He called to her through the bond—a gentle caress, begging her to follow him, pulling her closer than his physical body allowed, breaking the laws of the real world. 

He rested his finger on her heart hoping to feel something on her skin. An increase in heart rate, a hitch in her throat, or maybe the thrum of the bond’s stupid song that left him sleepless at night. Azriel would accept anything.

But her heart beat steadily, unaware of his desperation. The bond shimmered with his love, the light weaving through the thread until it met with her void again.

Ironic. The one born with the shadows had a heart aglow with love. And the other—warmth and light incarnated, had hers hidden in darkness. 

N placed a hand on his chest and perched her chin on it. She looked at him with curious eyes. ‘What?’

You’re my mate. 

The words were at the tip of his tongue. Three words and she would put him out of his misery. She would accept him, even if the bond never snapped for her. She would hold him close, kiss his lips, and tell him she loved him. She would rid him of some of his darkness.

A smile graced Azriel’s lips. He brushed her hair away from her eyes.

“Elemental you may be, Aldric Firedagger, but surely they taught you not to touch that which does not belong to you in the Elemental Planes?” His tone was deceptively calm and you looked at him, watched rage swirl in those eyes that so often held nothing but love and adoration for you. “You tried to drag my love, my mate, back to that cave you call home, You dared to lay your tainted hands on her, hoping that you could steal her from me and then touch her, claim her, in the most intimate parts of her being. That right is mine. As payment for your despicable actions, we ask you to pay with your hands.”

Aldric pleaded, “Please! I need my hands for my work!” 

Poor thing. 

Rhysand’s voice was clear in your mind, as smooth as velvet and just as comforting. 

He hasn’t realized I’m not going to let him out of here alive. 

You know that he didn’t hurt me, Rhysand. 

You haven’t seen what was in his mind. Believe me when I say hurting you was the kindest thing he had in store for you had Azriel not found you in time. 

Then do what you must, love. 

There was a tug of affection through your bond and you offered a reaffirming tug in return. Aldric’s hands were gone an instant later; sliced neatly by the claw-like shadows. You barely noticed his screams, not when Rhysand was gingerly stroking against the wall you kept up, almost as if to distract you from what was happening. 

Rhys, I knew what I was getting into when I accepted the mating bond. 

I just don’t want you to see more than you have to. 

You said that we would do everything together. I intend to endure this together as well. 

You could almost see Rhysand’s smile in your mind. 

That’s my girl.

His attention shifted back to Aldric. For his part, Aldric had stopped sobbing as if he had accepted the weight and consequences of his actions. There was a look in his brown eyes you couldn’t quite place and it was only after he spoke that you knew what it was. “Do your worst half-breed.” 

Facing death had made Aldric bold. His challenging words caused a ripple through the court, a wave of gasped breaths reverberated against the carved stone walls. Fire elemental or not, you had never seen such a blazing look on Aldric’s face before and for a moment you worried that he was going to burst, to scorch you all to Hell. Rhysand, however, was unfazed. 

“They say that it is a sin to covet, Firedagger. Yet, with your eyes you have lusted after many beings, my mate included. Fantasies of passion, both sexual and murderous have filled your gaze and thoughts. I have seen it. It’s all there in your mind, unprotected and exposed. Tell me, Aldric, why is that?” 

“I have nothing to hide. I am not ashamed of my desires, no matter how dark and corrupted they may seem to be.” The burning was still there in his gaze as he lifted his head and squared his shoulders. He was emboldened and reckless and one quick glance to Rhysand’s carefully composed face told you that Aldric had just made his last move in this twisted game of theirs.

“For those crimes, we ask you to pay with your eyes,” Rhysand’s voice was deep, powerful, and you shuddered against him as the shadows made quick work of utterly wrecking Aldric’s eyes. His scream fell on deaf ears, none caring that this measly elemental was being torn apart by the High Lord. 

You supposed it said quite a lot about who you had become that rather than be disgusted by this torturous, public, punishment you felt aroused. There was an undeniable heat pooling between your thighs as you watched your mate’s stronger, darker magic—the magic that made him the High Lord—tear this insignificant being apart piece by piece. It was a graphic display, a goreish show, that had many turning away. Even there in the Hewn City, it was almost too horrifying. You, however, could see it for what it truly was. In the most twisted way, it was a demonstration not only of the High Lord's true power, but of the undying, unconditional love he felt for you, his mate, his High Lady.

Try as you may, you couldn’t ignore that burning heat within you, that flame of arousal. You worried your lower lip between your teeth as you debated what to do. The logical solution was to be as patient as you were able; Rhysand always took such good care of you, knew exactly how to use his mouth, fingers, and cock to make you sing in pleasure. However, a larger part of you wanted to have him right there, audience be damned. Let them see. Let them all see how well Rhysand claimed you and how he was hopelessly yours as much as you were undeniably his. 

It was a thought that certainly had its merits. 

Your fingers wandered down the expanse of your abdomen, around your hip to your lower back where the fastens that held your skirt together resided. With a practiced ease you worked them open, sighing in relief as the immense amount of fabric fell down, pooling at your feet. You stepped out of the skirt, pushing it aside with your foot, and were happy that the cloak Rhysand had insisted on wearing was large enough to cover your now nude lower half.

You brought your hand back around to the small patch of hair resting just above your slick folds, dragging your fingers down to press against your entrance. A low hiss escaped you as they slipped in with ease, surprised by how wet you were already. Your gaze locked onto the slowly diminishing form of Aldric, each scream that erupted from his mouth sending a shiver down your spine because you knew that he was suffering because he dared to look at and touch something that was forbidden to him.

The scent of your arousal was evident to everyone present; they could smell your slick as you worked yourself open, quivering against your mate’s side and moaning into the darkness. You felt Rhysand’s grip on you tighten and all but shivered as he turned dark, hungry eyes towards you. He flicked his wrist again, his gaze solely focused on your face, and he watched as your pupils dilated with a desperate need at the sound of Aldric’s tormented wails. You could so clearly see the depravity in his violet eyes and eagerly met it with your own. It was a look that said I see you and I love you and accept you and Rhysand let out an almost choked sound at the sight of it. 

You gasped as Rhysand turned to face you fully, pulling you close and grinding your bodies together as he bent down to lick his way into your mouth. His left hand wandered down the planes of your skin, joining your own at your dripping cunt. You cried out, using your free hand to grab onto the front of his tunic as he pressed one, two, three of his thick fingers into you, thrusting in and out alongside your own smaller digits. 

You chanced a look back at Aldric and watched as his arm slowly came undone in perfect synchronization with Rhysand’s own gentle touch to your arm. The same happened again as Rhysand dragged his hand up to grip your chin, forcing you to look back at him as he surged forward and captured your mouth once more, his other hand still fucking you open relentlessly. The knowledge that for every inch of you that Rhysand touched Aldric would lose that part simultaneously produced an especially delicious-smelling gush of slick from you and you moaned as Rhysand brought an utterly soaked hand to his mouth and licked it clean.

“Rhys,” you pleaded, sighing in relief when his fingers entered you once more, “Please. Claim me. Mate me again. Show them we are equals.” The implication of your words was understood by all in attendance and Rhysand, who normally took a pause to verify you truly wanted to be ravaged so thoroughly by him, unleashed a sound that was positively bestial as he gripped the corset and blouse you were wearing and tore them asunder.

His hands gripped your waist, dragging you down to the ground with him, into the dust beneath your feet. It was a filthy thing, one that to many would be seen as unfit for a fae of his standing, but neither of you cared. The ferocity with which Rhysand flipped you around, edging you onto your hands and knees—soaked entrance on display like a bitch in heat—sent a full body shudder through you, getting a thrill at seeing your mate so unhinged.

The sound of Rhysand untying the fastens of his trousers was familiar and you pressed back harder against him, hoping to feel some of the cock you knew he was freeing. You could feel yourself gushing, slick spilling out of you as Rhysand rubbed the head of his thick cock against your wet entrance. Rhysand’s normally calm outward appearance was ripped away as Aldric let out a particularly blood curdling cry, his body disintegrating as Rhysand fucked into you in one fluid movement. 

The lack of care you felt in that moment for Aldric should have, perhaps, frightened you. But the sight of his body blasting apart and then dissolving into ash and dust sent a shiver down your spine. It was a brutal, grotesque, thing, but it was a sign that your mate loved you, truly, madly, deeply. If the visual display from the High Lord of Night was not enough, the way he took you, claimed you, in front of all present, was another reminder. 

You took in that glorious cock, moaning at the curve of it. It was a proud, thick, thing and you shuddered as you felt it throb within you. Then, you rocked back against Rhysand, urging him on, wanting more. The base part of your brain, that seemed fond of taking over whenever Rhysand was more feral, was desperate to be glutted with his seed, to be bred and filled with a new life in front of the ashen remains of someone who thought they could have you.

Rhysand was a bestial thing, his grip on your hips firm, keeping you still as he pounded into you. Growls tore out of his throat as his mouth moved against your flesh, biting and sucking all over to mark you, to show any who dared look that you had a lover, a mate, and that he had staked his claim. You were helpless, only able to angle your body to make the slide of his cock easier, allowing him deeper. The speed with which he took you was nearly too much, yet you were thriving, your muscles convulsing around him as he drove into you. 

He thrust in deep and perfect and you threw your head back, exposing more of your neck to his mouth. You screamed your pleasure, and pleaded for him to continue, begged for him to finally claim you. He bit down and your’s eyes widened in surprise as you felt a sudden surge of his power course through your veins, pulsing through every inch of your being. His tongue darted out to lick at the traces of blood seeping out of his claiming mark and you hissed in delight at the sensation. 

“I love you. You rare, beautiful thing. My mate, my wife, my High Lady.” Rhysand’s voice was barely recognizable, more of a growl than anything else. His hips stuttered as he spoke and he bit down once more as he emptied himself into you. The feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, stuffing you full of him, had you screaming as you came at last. 

Rhysand’s mouth was licking and kissing along the mark he had made and you groaned as he shifted. You could feel him in every fiber of your being and finally felt complete. ‘This’, you thought, ‘this is what I was missing.’ Rhysand hoisted you up with ease, standing with you still stuffed full of his cock and seed. He moved you slowly, turning you so your legs could wrap around his waist and you wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it must have looked to your audience, but refrained. Instead, you gasped once more as Rhysand carefully pulled out, his cum leaking out of you and onto the ground below. 

What a waste. 

You couldn’t help but hum in agreement. Though that was a conversation for another time. 

Rhysand’s hands were on your rear, keeping you supported as he looked around at the group surrounding you. There was a dangerous look in his eyes again, silently reminding them all to stay in their place. 

“Someone clean up this mess,” Rhysand snapped, his voice rough and guttural and you delighted at the sound of it, “The High Lady and I are going to retire for the evening.” The High Lady. You grinned wildly at the sound of that. It was merely a title at the end of the day, but it spoke volumes and told all the fae in attendance that you were their ruler, that you were his equal and were not to be trifled with. 

Pulling the kettle from the rack, you leaned against the counter, lifted the lid, and haphazardly filled it about half way. Yawning, you turned to the stove and set the kettle on to warm. Leaning against the wall, a small smile rose your lips as you closed your eyes, extending your forearm to the small shadow that swam to you. Even when he was asleep, his shadows had the habit of following you. Despite his control of them, a few always seemed to escape to be with you. You turned your forearm, chuckling as the shadow looped and looped around your wrist playfully.

At the whistle of the kettle, you reached for a chamomile tea bag and a mug before clicking the heat off. Still half asleep, you reached for the kettle, grasping the handle, taking a little too long to realize it had been kept on the heat too long, as the handle itself had started to warm.

With a curse, you flinched and let the kettle drop to the stove from the few inches of height you held it at. The shadow around your wrist began viciously twisting and writing as you jogged over to the sink, running the fresh pink mark on your palm under the cool water. You winced and held back a groan at the slight burn and pins and needles the water caused as it dribbled against the burn.

You hadn't even heard him approach. You naturally jumped as his strong back pressed against your shoulders, his arm tracing yours until he grasped your wrist. You sharply turned over your shoulder upon feeling the heightening of his breath. Azriel's eyes were blown wide, scanning your hand as he gently turned your wrist back and forth, attempting to fully assess the damage.

He had been jolted away by whispers of his shadows. Burned. She's burning. Immediately on alert, he leapt out of bed, shadows swirling around him. He prided himself on his cool countenance he constantly held, which was especially effective and essential to his job as the court's spymaster. When it came to you, and the idea of you in pain, all of his precarious training and that calm countenance went out the window.

He absolutely feared the worst. Only when his shadows lead him towards the kitchen did he stop the rambling thoughts in his head. He cursed his shadows for not elaborating, their words immediately triggering his idea of his worst nightmare; you burning as he did when he was young.

He exhaled a breath as he met your eyes, guiding your hand back under the cool water. You gazed at him, reading the panic recede from his face. You leaned into him, resting your head on his bare chest.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, knowing the process of thoughts and emotions that must have been flowing through him, finding the bed empty and his shadows whispering to him your condition. He wrapped his free arm around your waist, leaning his cheek on the top of your head as he exhaled.

"It's okay," he whispered, nuzzling into your hair. "Your always so clumsy when you're tired."

You slightly tapped the arm holding you tight to him, returning your gaze to the burn on your hand that was finally numb, huffing.

"Am not....." you whispered, trailing off as he chuckled against you.

You tilted forward with the curve of his body as he reached to turn off the tap. Still gripping the wrist of your burned hand, he brought it to his lips and gave the flush skin a grazing kiss. Tucking your head into his shoulder, you brought the same hand holding yours to your lips, mimicking his sweet kiss.

You couldn’t help but smile as you made your way over to the bar. For once, things were quiet in Velaris. There was no longer a looming threat of war. The tension between the High Lords had come to a ceasefire. Rhys hadn’t sent you out on a mission in over a month. All was well in the city that you loved. At least for the moment. 

However temporary it was, you were determined to enjoy being home. 

The bartender greeted you, making conversation about your recent ambassadorial trip to the Continent and her daughter’s latest project at Feyre’s art studio. You promised to drop by later in the week to see the painting before she scurried off to fetch your usual order. You smiled, cherishing the moment. It was the little things that made Velaris feel like home. 

As you leaned against the wooden countertop, a male sauntered up to you. He was handsome and made polite conversation, but you were only half-listening. You knew that he was flirting with you and while you were flattered, you weren’t interested. He just wasn’t your type.

Because your type was a certain mysterious, brooding Illyrian warrior who also happened to be your closest friend. 

You shook the thought away. The reason you insisted on fetching the drinks was so you could clear your head from being in such close proximity to the Shadowsinger who often invaded your thoughts and now thanks to the private suite upstairs, also invaded your personal space. The room, which was reserved for the Inner Circle’s more intimate gatherings, was starting to feel a little stuffy. 

It was usually fine, but with Amren bringing Varian along and Mor finally gathering up the nerve to ask Emerie out, the space was a little more crowded than normal. You didn’t begrudge your friends for bringing their significant others. They were the best people you knew and they deserved to be happy, but you were literally an inch away from ending up in Azriel’s lap. 

Not that you’d mind that. But you didn’t know if he’d mind that. 

To be perfectly honest, your relationship with the Shadowsinger was a little confusing. The two of you were close. You often talked into the late hours of the night, discussing anything and everything. Azriel understood you in a way that no one else ever has and your friendship was so closely-knit that even Cassian was jealous. You told each other everything. Well, except for the fact that you were hopelessly in love with him. 

Sometimes you wondered if the lingering stares, the accidental touches, and the palpable tension between you was all in your head. If it was anyone else, you would’ve just outright asked. But this was Azriel. He was your best friend and you didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship. 

You sighed, snapping your attention back to the male before you. He asked you a question, but you couldn’t recall what it was. Luckily, it seemed to be a rhetorical one since he was now pulling a golden coin from behind your ear. You suppressed the urge to snort. Was he actually performing a magic trick in the presence of the Night Court’s most powerful sorceress? 

You smiled politely, looking over his shoulder as if that would somehow summon the drinks any faster. Fortunately for you, the bartender was returning with a tray in hand. Salvation at last.

“Do you need any help with that?” The male, sans gold coins and magic tricks, asks as you expertly hoist the tray over your head. 

Before you could answer, the tray was being lifted from your hands as an arm snakes possessively through your waist. 

“She doesn’t need any help.”

Like shadows given form, Azriel’s cold, smooth voice swept over you as he placed a kiss on your cheek. If his arm around your waist made your traitorous little heart rattle in your chest, his lips pressed against your skin threatened to send you into outright cardiac arrest. You said nothing as you looked up at him, mouth gaping at the sight of the Shadowsinger. 

Beneath the glow of the golden faelights, Azriel looked like a dream. He was dressed casually tonight and you were inclined to deem it his best look yet. Instead of his usual fighting leathers, he wore dark trousers and a black silk shirt with the first few buttons undone, giving you a perfect view of the tattoos swirling through his chest. His wings were tucked tight behind his back, but you could’ve sworn that they flared slightly at the sight of the male. 

Azriel’s dark hair was perfectly tousled and his cheeks were slightly tinged in the endearing way that they always were when he drank, but those eyes of his was what startled you the most. Shrouded in the darkness of his shadows, they glowed a bright, golden color as they landed on you with the intensity of a predator tracking his prey. Cauldron boil you, Azriel was going to be the end of you. 

“Do you, my love?” 

You raised a brow at the nickname, conveying your utter confusion at whatever the hell was going on. Azriel only smirked and you swore to the Cauldron that your heart leapt at the sight. Gods, he really had no business looking like that.

“I - I’m sorry. I didn’t know you two were together.” 

Azriel leveled a gaze at the male that would’ve sent lesser men running. It was strange to think that the same male who participated in an annual snowball fight with Rhys and Cas was one of the most powerful Illyrians in history and the feared spymaster of the Night Court. The very sight of him incited fear out of most people, but not you. You were fortunate enough to know the real Azriel.

Still you couldn’t say that you minded this overprotective side of him.

“Now you do.” Azriel replies in a dark tone, as polite of a dismissal that the Shadowsinger could muster. “If you’ll excuse us, we should be getting back to our friends.” 

Not awaiting the male’s reply, Azriel grabs a hold of your hand and navigates the both of you through a throng of people. You followed him up the stairs, struggling to keep up with his pace despite the fact that he was currently balancing a tray of drinks over his head. Damn those long legs of his. 

When you finally reach the top, you completely lose it. You double over in laughter just as Azriel sets the drinks down on a sturdy surface.

“My love?” You ask incredulously. 

He grins, giving you a full view of the hidden dimple on his right cheek. “Too over the top?” 

“The liquor’s really gone to your head, Shadowsinger.”

“I -” Hiccup. “Haven’t -” Another hiccup. “Had that much to drink.” 

“Very convincing.” You chuckle, nudging him with your hip.

“I clocked your discomfort from a mile away,” he replies with a chuckle. “Did he honestly think that would work?” 

You grimaced. “I’d need at least another gallon of Rhysand's expensive wine to wash the memory down. You didn’t need to scare him half to death though. I had it handled.” 

Azriel is still holding your hand as he leans against the wall. You looked down at your intertwined fingers and felt his grip loosen. It wasn’t a secret that Azriel was self-conscious about the scars on his hands, but you’ve always thought that they were beautiful. Just like the rest of him. 

You squeezed his hand tighter, offering a small smile. 

“I know you did. Scaring him was purely for my pleasure.” 

That earned Azriel an eye roll. “Busybody. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.”

“I don’t doubt that you could’ve had him on his ass if you wanted to, but you’re too nice to actually say anything and you looked so uncomfortable that I had to intervene.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “My shadows told me he pulled a coin out of your ear. Be honest with me, did he mistake you for a piggy bank?” 

You slapped his arm, eliciting a dramatic gasp from the Shadowsinger. “If you mean to make fun of me, maybe I should take my chances with the magician.” 

Azriel snorted. “He’s not your type.” 

You quirked a brow. “How would you know?” 

His grin grows wider. “I’m the spymaster, remember?”

“Keeping tabs on me now, I see.” 

“Only when potential threats are nearby.” 

“I’d hardly call him a threat.”

Azriel shrugs, but his eyes are trained on you. “He was a little over familiar, don’t you think?” 

“Are you jealous, Az?” 

“Of course I’m jealous. He’s talking to my best friend while she leaves me alone to fend for myself up here.” 

You chuckle. “I haven’t been gone for that long and you’re not alone.” 

“That’s true, but it’s more fun when you’re by my side.”

Your face heats as you pitch forward, praying to the Cauldron that your hair would hide the flush spreading over your cheeks. “I guess I owe you my gratitude all the same.” 

“Don’t thank me yet. Cas somehow convinced everyone into participating in some sort of singing contest.” 

You snorted. “And here I thought you were rescuing me out of the kindness of your own heart.”

Az actually shuddered. “You don’t need rescuing, but I might.” 

“Do you think I could ask our new friend to teach me his trick? I’d pay at least a month’s worth of wages to witness your inebriated singing.” 

“Over my dead body,” replies the Shadowsinger.

You shake your head. “So dramatic, but I am willing to wager something far more interesting. If you get in there and sing. I’ll…” A wicked smile tugs at your lips as the perfect bait came to mind. “I’ll read one of my romance books to you.” 

Az squints, considering the offer. You could practically see the gears turning in that beautiful, complicated brain of his. For months, he’s teased you about the smutty books that you, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie bonded over. He was so intrigued that he’d even asked you to read a passage aloud to him. You refused, frantically sprinting out of the room before he could press the matter even further. It only made him that much more curious. 

Another pause and you knew Az would cave. “A full chapter and I get to choose.”

For a chance to hear him sing, you would have agreed to reading Sellyn Drake’s entire collection of novels. “Deal.” 

The tingling sensation on the back of your neck officially sealed the bargain. You run your fingertips over the new tattoo, tracing the outline of the half crescent moon embedded into soft skin. 

Azriel pulls down the collar of his shirt to show you the matching ink on his golden brown skin. “A sign of a deal well struck.”

 You respond with a smirk. “Now get in there and sing, Az.”

As it turns out, the Shadowsinger could, in fact, sing. You watched in amazement as his voice embraced you with an angelic melody, amplified by the strange enchanted device that you picked up during your last trip to the Continent. The fact that Azriel had a lovely singing voice didn’t surprise you one bit. Your friend was irritatingly good at everything he set his sights to. 

Even Cassian and Rhys, nearly stumbling over from the amount of alcohol they’d consumed, listened intently as Azriel sang. Beside you, Feyre and Nesta released a sigh, causing you to giggle. The sisters may be happily mated, but no one was immune to Azriel’s charms. Especially not you.

Mor sent you a knowing look from across the table as she draped an arm over Emerie’s shoulder. She was well aware of the feelings you had for Azriel and often encouraged you to make your affections known. With the matter between Mor and Azriel addressed and settled, she wanted nothing more than to see both of her friends happy. 

Your move, the blonde mouthed. 

As the honeyed wine worked its magic, warming your flesh and bones as your nerves settled into a pleasant hum, you childishly stuck a tongue out at your friend. Busybody. 

Mor snorted in amusement and you ignored the way Azriel’s stare lingered on you as he sang the final notes. The beautiful crooning of the Shadowsinger came to an end as Rhys and Cassian snatched the enchanted innovation away from their brother, launching into a godsawful rendition of some bawdy song, complete with an uncoordinated array of movements that you supposed was meant to be an accompanying dance. You wouldn’t be surprised if the two had rehearsed this in their free time. 

As Rhys dramatically serenaded Feyre, Cassian tugged at your hand. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Come on, little witchling. I know you can sing. Nes and I hear you belting out songs from the bath all the time.”

You shot an accusing look at Nesta, who only offered a smile of amusement at her mate’s antics. “You’re lucky that I’m too drunk to argue,” you reply to Cassian. 

The Illyrian warrior laughed, whirling you over to Rhys, who placed the enchanted little device up to your mouth. The three of you sang, voices melding together into a mixture of Rhysand’s cool tenor, Cassian’s low, rumbling bass, and your lilting falsetto. Rhys and Cas hook their elbows around yours, swinging and swirling you through the small space until you felt dizzy with laughter. You beamed when Feyre, Nesta, Mor, and Emerie rose from their seats to join your merry dancing. 

Even Amren, who was curled up on the settee with Varian, smiled at the sight. 

Feyre grasped your hand and twirled you through the air, pushing you straight into the solid wall that was Azriel’s chest. The Shadowsinger caught you by the waist, leading you into a soft sway as you breathed in the familiar scent of cedar and night-chilled mist. 

“Chapter 42.” Azriel says softly. His hazel eyes glitter with mischief as your arms rest just above his shoulders. 

“What?” 

“The chapter that I want you to read to me.” 

You chuckle, leaning into his open arms as your bodies clicked together like perfect pieces of a puzzle. You had to give it to him. Az never took his eyes off the prize. 

“Since you gave one hell of a performance, I’m inclined to throw in another chapter. Free of charge.” 

The rumble of Azriel’s laughter, deep and electrifying like the sound of thunder, washes over you. 

Home. 

It was good to be home.

“I think I like drunk Az better than sober Az.” You announce, carefully teetering through the cobblestone steps lining the dimly lit streets. Fresh, powdered snow crunched underneath your feet as you breathe in the crisp air. There was truly nothing better than the sight of glittering snowflakes raining down upon the frozen banks of the Sidra. 

After tonight’s festivities, Rhys had to drag a drunk Cassian back to the River House. Feyre and Nesta trailed after their mates while Mor winnowed Emerie home. Amren and Varian had slinked off to her apartment sometime during the night, leaving you and Azriel alone. You suppose it would’ve been easier to fly home, but you wanted to drink in the blissful peace that had settled over Velaris. Azriel followed closely at your heels, his shadows dancing across his shoulders. 

“Ouch.” The Shadowsinger said with feigned hurt, clasping a hand to his chest. “You wound me, angel.” 

Your cheeks warmed at the nickname and Azriel smirked. He liked making you flustered, and especially now, with the aftereffects of the wine still buzzing through your skin and the white flurries crowning you with winter’s kiss, you were the perfect embodiment of an angel. 

“I’m just saying. I didn’t even know you could sing until tonight. What else are you hiding from me, Az?” 

He chuckled as the soft wind rustled through your hair. “More than you know. Mostly the fact that Cas cheated during your last game of cards.” 

You squinted at the confirmation of your suspicions. “That giant Illyrian baby will pay.” 

Azriel rolled his eyes fondly, walking quietly by your side as the stars glittered above. A beat of silence passed until he spoke again. “I think I like drunk Azriel better too. He was brave.” 

You raised a brow. “I’ve never known you to be afraid.” 

Azriel paused, his fingers lightly gripping your wrist. The two of you stopped below the the glow of the moonlight, enveloping you in the starkissed night as tender hazel eyes made your breath catch in your throat. In the middle of the quiet streets of the place you called home, his golden-brown skin washed in a soft, silver light, a dimple peeking from its hiding place, Azriel looked like heaven. 

The cool, neutral mask Azriel wore slipped away and you saw him. Hopeful and shy, staring at you as though you were the only female in the world. He weighed the words on the tip of his tongue a hundred times over. Whether it was the wine or the male that had hit on you earlier, something pushed him to stop being afraid. 

“The truth is, I’m a coward. I’m too afraid to tell my best friend that I’m in love with her.” 

He wanted to tell you the day that you two returned from fighting Hybern or the day at the House as you sat curled up with your favorite book, cheeks pink from the explicit content, or the day that you knocked him on his ass in the training ring and every day in between since the moment he met you. Seeing you here, with fresh fallen snow coating your hair, grinning at him after a night out with his family, Azriel couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

He loved you. 

Your chest tightened. For the first time since you met him, Azriel looked nervous. As though he was offering his heart before you, vulnerable and exposed, yours to do with as you wished.

“I love you, too.” 

Love seemed too simple of a word to describe what you felt for Azriel, but it was a good start. 

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief and pulled you to him, noses touching with barely a wisp of breath separating your lips from his. He waited, careful and patient, for you to say yes. To his surprise, you rose on the tips of your toes and pressed your mouth firmly against his. The kiss was soft and gentle and it felt right, like the answer to an unasked question that you’ve been searching for your whole immortal existence. One hand weaved through your hair while the other snaked around your waist, lifting you off your feet and pulling you closer as his plush lips, tasting of honeyed wine and peppermint pressed soft kisses against your mouth.

“Angel?” Azriel murmured against your skin.

“Hmm?” You asked distractedly. Drunk not on wine, but Azriel himself. His mouth, his hands, his warmth. You wanted to drown in him. 

“Make it three chapters.” 

The smirk on his face, beautiful and glowing, made your heart ache. 

“Shut up and kiss me, Az.” 

“I see how you look at Az.” He crossed his arms. You blinked. That was not at all what you were expecting. Sure, maybe you had a little crush on the shadowsinger, but it wasn’t enough for Rhys to be making this big of a deal out of it.

“So?”

“So I want you to know that it’s never going to go anywhere.” Your eyes narrowed.

“Did he say something-”

“No, I just… Look, (Y/N), you know I care about you. And Az is like a brother to me; if this ends badly between you, you’ll both be hurt and I’ll be caught in the middle. I don’t want-”

“It’s none of your business, Rhysand.” He swallowed his fury, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He always loved your feistiness, but not when it was directed at him.

When he spoke again, his voice was even. “You are forbidden to speak to him anymore.”

“That’s bullshit,” you spat. “I’m a grown female and I can do whatever I want. You’re not High Lord yet, so don’t think you can get away with bossing me around, you pretentious prick.” You fled the room, slamming the door in his face and shuffled angrily through the halls of the House of Wind. He hadn’t even bothered to follow you.

You were seething as you practically stomped down the hallway in a blind rage, and found yourself before Az’s bedroom.

You banged on the door. It took all of five seconds before it opened and a shirtless male emerged.

“(Y/N)? What’s wro-” Your lips cut him off. He was surprised at first, but eventually relaxed into it, kissing you back. You knew he’d felt the same about you; he was just too shy and afraid of Rhys to do anything about it. 

You gently nudged him backwards, into his room, and once you were fully inside, you kicked the door shut behind you, using magic to lock it. You guided him back toward the bed. He pulled away, confusion all over his face. He looked like he had a million questions, but couldn’t quite voice any of them.

“Wh… what are you doing?” His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he fought to keep his sanity. 

“I want you,” you mumbled somewhat desperately, tugging at the waistband of his pants. He glanced at the door, his lips slightly parted, as if he expected Rhys to kick it open and rip him to shreds. “Az.” The sound of your voice pulled his eyes back to you. “Please,” you whimpered.

His kiss was gentle and sweet, and he cupped your ass as he picked you up. He placed you gently on his bed, only breaking the kiss to pull your shirt off. 

You gasped as he sucked your nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it. You held back a moan, arching your back. He pulled off with a satisfying pop.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispered, eyes drinking in your naked torso.

He kissed his way down your body, and you shivered to see him kneeling between your legs. 

He looked up at you, lust temporarily removed from his gaze. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You could not have been more sure. He smirked, tugging the waistband of your leggings and removing them completely. 

“Mmm, you’re already so wet for me,” he mumbled. He was so close that you could feel his breath against your heat and you lifted your hips, trying to get even closer to him. “Aww. Are you desperate for me, baby?”

“Fuck, yes, Az, please-” Before you could even finish, he was licking a long stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit. Just the feeling of his warm tongue on you made you want to cum right there. Once he got to the top, he sucked your clit into his mouth, making you moan. You covered your mouth, knowing that Cassian’s bedroom was right across the hall. 

He slid a finger in you, but it wasn’t enough. A mere tease. You whimpered.

“Please…” He knew what you meant, adding another finger. Your head fell back against the mattress in pure pleasure and you had to fight to keep quiet. You arched your back again. You wanted more, and he was happy to deliver, adding a third finger. Now, you had to bite down on your fingers to stifle the ungodly noises you wanted to make. 

Your legs started to shake. He felt your pussy begin clenching around his fingers and immediately pulled out. You let out a disappointed whimper. In moments, he was face to face with you, his lips on yours.

You could taste yourself on his lips. His fingers drew agonizingly slow circles on your clit and you rutted against them, begging for more. He smirked against your lips. 

You reached down, palming his dick through his pants.

Gods, he was big. A shiver ran up your spine. 

He pulled his pants down, letting his massive cock spring free. He wrapped a hand around it, pumping it once. Your eyes widened at the sheer size of it.

He must have sensed your panic, because he said, “We don’t have to-”

“I want it,” you said, your eyes shifting back to his. You swore he looked like a god in that moment, his muscular body on display, a hand clasped around his cock. “Please, Azriel… Fuck me.” 

For a moment, all of his restraint disappeared and he was entirely primal, but he took a deep breath to calm himself. You licked your lips as he stepped closer. He leaned down, kissing you gently again as he guided his cock to your wet pussy. You wrapped your arms around his neck, excitement buzzing through you as he pushed in. 

He went ever so slowly, letting you adjust to him. You sucked in a breath as his tip nudged your cervix, and he kissed your jaw in silent encouragement. He stayed still, waiting for your signal. Finally, you began to desperately shift your hips. 

He smiled down at you for a moment, just watching you writhe on him. “My good girl,” he purred, and you swore your pussy clenched at just those words. He pulled out halfway then slowly thrust back in. You couldn’t help but moan. “Takin’ me so well… What did you say you wanted me to do to you?”

You swallowed, your brain working overtime just to get the words out. “Fuck me, Az.”

Once again, his restraint disappeared and this time, he didn’t fight it. He gripped your hips, thrusting in faster. You had never felt this good. Your brain couldn’t even form coherent thoughts anymore. You just clung to him as he pounded into you. 

He reached down, rubbing circles on your clit again, and you tightened around him. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Gonna cum for me, baby girl?”

You nodded, your mind beyond forming words. 

He smirked, leaning down so that his lips were right next to your ear as he whispered, “Why don’t you cum loud enough for Rhys to hear?”

That was all the permission you needed.

You were sure all of Velaris heard your climax. The feeling of your pussy clenching around him sent Az over the edge. You were still seeing stars when he pulled out of you. You whimpered, feeling empty. He pulled you into his arms, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pressing another gentle kiss to your lips.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

I landed straight on my back on the mat. Again.

“You have to engage your core. Your left side is weak, you need to watch your blind spots.”

Azriel had agreed to meet me early in the morning to train. I still hadn’t fully recovered from the last mission, when one of the warriors had nearly speared me like a kabob. However, I knew if I didn’t start training again soon, I’d never fully regain all my strength.

“I did engage my core! I even leaned left to try and brace for your impact!” I growled, hands over my face. “What more can I do?”

“Let’s take a quick break. You’re still healing, and even though I’m proud of you for getting back in the ring, you’ve gotta take it easy for a while.”

I smirked at the shadowsinger, “You’re proud of me?”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, “Don’t get mushy on me now, soldier.”

I set down my water, and walked towards him until I was standing toe to toe with him. I craned my neck to look up at him, poking one finger into his chest, “Oh, trust me. I’m definitely not the mushy one in this friendship.”

Cauldron boil and fry me.

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment where my feelings for Azriel had gone from purely platonic to something more. It happened like a summer storm - out of no where, full force. But I refuse to risk ruining the time we spend together over some silly feelings. He means too much to me.

“You okay in there?” Azriel tapped gentle on my temple, tearing my attention from my thoughts.

“Hey lovebirds! You mind if I take a turn sparing with your boy-toy?”

“We are NOT- “

“He is NOT my-“

We both stopped and glared at Cassian as a playful grin crept across his face. I grabbed my water and slid on my boots, bracing myself for the cold to come as I trudged back to the main part of the house.

After dinner that night, things got a little out of hand. It started with some ridiculous drinking game Mor begged me to play with her. She dragged all of us into it, and then I had the idiotic idea to challenge Cassian by saying I could out-drink him.

“I want to **hic** dance!! Azzie, can we dance, pleaseee?!” The strong arms that carried me away from the rest of the circle held me tighter.

“You can barely even stand upright, let alone dance.”

“Nuh-uh. I can **hic** totally stand. Watch. **hic** Put me down and I’ll walk in a straight line.”

“You’re full of shit and you know it.”

I smirk up at the shadowsinger, “Actually, **hic** I’m technically full of tequila.”

“If you want to be a smartass,” Azriel chuckles, “I can take us for a fun little flight and see how well you handle your liquor.”

My stomach lurched even at the thought of tumbling through the air, doing loops and turns…

Azriel gently set me down, keeping me between his arms as he opened the door to steady me. As we entered the dark room, I walked towards the bed and threw off my awfully uncomfortable shoes.

When I looked up, all I could see was those glimmering hazel eyes and incredible sapphire siphons illuminating Azriel’s face as he stood in the doorway.

“Stay,” I whispered, so quietly I wasn’t even certain he would hear.

He stood, still as a statue. The only sound was our breathing, and a muffled conversation from the rest of the circle in the living room.

“Stay,” I repeated, a little louder, a little more brave this time.

Those hazel eyes widened, and it took Azriel only two strides across the room to reach me.

He placed one hand on my cheek, the other tilting my head up to look at him.

“Fuck it. I can’t be your friend any longer.” He exhaled.

I tried to move my chin from his grasp and turn away, offended by his words. He held my face gently but firm.

“You’re so much more than that.”

And then we kissed. It was like, I was a star during Starfall, and I had finally found my way home. Like I had been waiting to find the missing piece of me, and it had been right there all along. I felt a tug in my chest as Azriel’s tongue swept over mine.

Mate.

I gasped as he pulled away, feeling completely sober now, regardless of how many drinks I had downstairs.

“You’re -“

“Your mate.”

“How long have you known?”

“A month. When that soldier had almost taken you from us. From me.”

I was completely in awe.

“While you were unconscious and the healers were working, I could feel the bond fraying. I tugged on it every now and then to keep you with me. I was a complete mess. You can ask Rhys or Cass -“

“They’ve known this whole time?”

“I didn’t intentionally tell Rhys, but when you were hit I lost all control over my mental shield and he could sense it. I told Cassian not long after.”

I stared up at him, completely at a loss for words. This whole time, he had known and continued to care for me out of fear of losing me.

He leaned down to kiss me again, but I took the opportunity to grab his wrists and twist him over onto the bed, pining him down.

“You need to engage your core, and watch your blind spots, Spymaster.” I smirked down at him.

His eyes were like burning embers, flaming with lust and desire.