#acotarfic

Read on ao3 here.

Chapter 33: The Incident

“Oh my gods,” Cassian yelled, covering his eyes.

“Fuck,” Elain hissed, spinning around.

“Fuck,” Az echoed, turning and stuffing his half-hard dick back into his pants. His heart was pounding against his chest. Next to him, Elain was frantically lacing up the few corset ties he’d managed to loosen, her face bright red and fingers shaking. For perhaps the first time since meeting her, he was very glad she was fully clothed; at least she was able to preserve some decency. Unfortunately, he couldn’t say the same about himself; he was quite positive Cassian had gotten a full view of his partly-flaccid manhood.

Not to mention, of course, that he’d seen him and Elain. Seen them locked at the lips, seen their hands twisted around each other, their bodies pressed together so tightly it was impossible to discern where he ended and she began -

There wasn’t a chance in hells of playing this off as something innocent. Not a single one.

“ What the fuck is going on here?! ” Cassian practically bellowed.

“Keep your voice down,” Elain snarled, spinning around and fixing a dagger-edged stare at her brother-in-law. Her voice was mostly steady, but Azriel could hear the thundering of her pulse; she was just as thrown off, just as distressed as he was. “Do you want to alert the whole godsdamn manor?”

“What the hells are you even doing here?” Azriel demanded. His siphons were glowing brightly, and tension and something like panic clanged through him like a bell. Nuala and Cerridwen knowing about them was one thing, but Cassian…Cassian was another level entirely. If Cassian knew, it was only a matter of time before everyone else knew, too. And if everyone else knew, then he and Elain would have to - well, he exactly wasn’t sure what they would have to do. That was the problem in and of itself. He had no idea how the others would react. Had no idea how it would change the very dynamic of their tight-knit group, their family -

No, if his and Elain’s secret were to no longer be a secret, he hadn’t a clue what would happen next.

And he was a strong enough male to admit that he was rather afraid to find out.

“Looking for you two!” Cas shouted, his voice only slightly quieter than a moment ago. “I wanted to hang out!”

“And you didn’t use your supersonic hearing to realize that we were not just ‘ hanging out ’ in here?” Elain said incredulously.

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT THE SOUNDS I HEARD WERE - “

“Shut up, would you?” Az growled, his wings flexing menacingly behind him.

“But you two - you and you -” he pointed at Az, eyes wide with shock before narrowing in outrage. “What the hells were you doing with her!?”

The Shadowsinger was about to bite back when Elain beat him to it.

“Are you requesting a play by play?” she replied coolly.

The General gaped. His mouth kept opening and closing like a fish on a hook. “ What is happening ?” he asked again in a hoarse whisper. He looked rather faint, and there was an unmistakable sway in his knees.

Azriel’s suspicions were confirmed when Cassian dramatically fell back onto a work stool. He scoffed while beside him, Elain rolled her eyes.

“Why are you even at the Manor right now?” the shadowsinger asked, unable to keep a throaty grumble out of his voice.

Cassian’s look of shock turned into one tinged with frustration. “I told you I was coming to the Mortal Manor tonight! I told you not even eight hours ago! Or have you gotten so old you’re going senile?”

Azriel blinked. He was so caught off guard that he didn’t even think to be offended by the insult. Was that true? He thought back to their conversation on the rooftop…he could have sworn both Cassian and Mor were supposed to arrive tomorrow…But, to be fair, his mind was rather preoccupied with several other things at the time.

He scratched the back of his neck guiltily. “I thought you said tomorrow,” he muttered as the arches of his cheeks went warm.

Cassian scowled. “Well, obviously, I didn’t.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Cassian buried his face in his hands and groaned, seemingly overwhelmed by the events that had just taken place.

Elain and Azriel took advantage of his distraction by having a silent conversation.

Are you okay? she mouthed. Genuine concern gleamed in her big doe eyes. Despite the embarrassment he knew she was feeling, here she was, putting her own feelings aside out of worry for his own.

Affection fluttered in his chest. A moment later, it was replaced with sour shame. Mother above. What was wrong with him? He was acting like a scared, selfish little boy. Despite his initial reaction, the very last thing he wanted - and that included getting horribly cockblocked mere moments after receiving the best blowjob of his life - was for Elain to walk away from this situation thinking he was in any way ashamed of her. Not when that was so far from the truth. He simply couldn’t bear it.

But he wasn’t sure how to say all that, so he just gave her a quick, terse nod.

Elain looked quickly away, and after a few seconds, sighed long and loud. Cassian finally raised his head to look at her.

“Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen,” she said, a calm and even expression on her face. “You’re going to ask us three questions, and we’re going to answer them completely honestly. But only three. That’s it. That’s all you get.” She glanced sideways at Az. “Right?”

He didn’t hesitate. Wherever she was going with this, whatever plan she had, he had full faith in it. In her. “Right.”

“Fine,” Cassian said, “How long has -”

Elain held up a finger. “I’m not done. We will answer three questions if , and only if, you promise us something.”

“Promise what?” he responded, voice laced with suspicion.

“You have to promise not to speak about anything you saw or heard here tonight. Got it?”

Cassian’s eyes bulged out of his head. “Do you realize what you’re asking me to do? I can’t keep this from Nesta!”

At the mere mention of her elder sister, Elain’s shoulders tightened. “I don’t see what any of this has to do with her.”

If the heavy sigh he gave was any indication, Cassian noticed Elain’s reaction, as well. “Even if I agree to keep whatever this is -'' he waved a flippant hand at the two of them - “a secret, Nesta will know I’m keeping something from her. She’s smart like that.”

“Or you’re just incredibly bad at keeping secrets,” Azriel said dryly.

Cassian glared at him. “You’re awfully bold for someone who just got caught in a garden shed with their dick hanging out.”

Azriel arched an eyebrow. “At least my dick is big enough to hang out of my pants. Shame you can’t say the same.”

“Shut it, the both of you,” Elain ordered. Then she pinned a serious gaze on Cassian.

“I didn’t want to play this card, but you’re forcing my hand,” she said. “You have to keep this a secret. You owe me , Cas.”

Cassian blinked. So did Azriel. What in the world was she talking about?

She widened her eyes meaningfully. “Remember?”

Cas stared at her for another long second before he threw his head back and groaned. “Fuck,” he whined. “You’re right. Ugh. Ugh . Fine,” he said, focusing his gaze back on Elain, a pouty scowl on his ruggedly handsome face. “You fight dirty, Archeron.”

“I’m sorry you had to learn the hard way.”

The Illyrian General shook his head. “I thought you were supposed to be the sweet sister.”

Elain smiled ruefully. “You thought wrong,” she said, then inclined her head. “Ask your questions.”

“How long has this been going on?” he asked immediately.

The other two glanced at each other. Azriel wasn’t quite sure how to answer. When did this thing with him and Elain begin? If he was being incredibly frank, it began the moment he saw her clutching that fork in the mortal lands, when she was endearingly human; when she was small and fragile and scared - and brave. Always brave, even then.

But “ this” was an incredibly vague identifier, and Azriel wasn’t interested in digging into any kind of unnecessary details here. Besides, he was pretty sure Cassian’s question was mainly referring to the sexual nature of their relationship, so..

“A while,” he finally said. “A few months, at least.”

Cassian gaped like a fish out of water. “Months?” he gasped. “ Months ?” Then he turned to Azriel with a hurt expression. “How could you keep this from me? I thought we told each other everything!”

Before he could answer, Elain said, “Is that one of your questions?”

“No,” Cassian replied sullenly, throwing another dirty look at Azriel.

“Then ask your actual next question.”

“Does anybody else know?”

“Nuala and Cerridwen know,” Elain replied. “Rhys knows we almost kissed about a year ago, and I guess Feyre and Mor know about that too, but that’s it.”

He turned to Az with comprehension dawning in his eyes.“Wait, is that why you and Rhys  - ?” Then he stopped himself, clearly remembering he had limited access to the information he desired.

“We are fairly confident they’re the only ones who know, anyway,” Elain continued. “And you too, now, I guess,” she added wryly.

“What a joyous club to be a part of,” Cassian deadpanned. If Azriel wasn’t so worked up (being simultaneously annoyed, panicked and still a bit horny wasn’t doing his cardiac system any favors), he might have smirked.

“Last question,” Elain said. “Better make it a good one.”

With a wary gleam in his eye, Cassian’s gaze swiveled between the two of them. “Do you two like each other or something?” he asked finally. “I mean, is this just…you know…or is it…”, he trailed off awkwardly.

Elain opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Instinctively, or so it seemed, her eyes darted to meet Azriel’s.

And before he could think twice about it, and despite the tight ball of panic still pulsing in his chest, he said, “Of course we like each other.”

The beautiful shine in her eyes made it all worth it.

Cassian sighed, long and loud. “And everything was going so nicely,” he said dramatically.

The adoring look on Elain’s face dropped immediately. She turned to Cassian, narrowing her brows. “Don’t you worry your below-average-sized wings,” she said, causing Cassian’s mouth to drop and Azriel to bite his tongue in an attempt to stifle his laughter. This girl . Godsdamn.

“This isn’t your problem,” she continued. “This isn’t anyone’s problem. Got it?”

She bared her teeth. Her gaze was so ferocious, her tone so commanding, Azriel didn’t even blame Cassian for wincing slightly.

“Got it,” he said weakly.

“And it’s going to remain that way, right?” she said, just as intensely.

“Right,” Cassian finished lamely.

Elain nodded, satisfied. “Well, it must be near dinnertime.” Her tone was suddenly sweet and casual again. “Let’s go eat, shall we?” Then she led the way out of the shed.

As they walked through the conservatory, Cassian looked around with wide eyes, taking in the practical indoor jungle around them. “Hey, didn’t all this get destroyed by Koschei months ago?”

Elain and Azriel exchanged a brief glance. “Yes,” she said, “I’m not sure if you knew this, but plants can grow back.” The corner of her lips twitched when Cassian immediately scowled - and she couldn’t help but smile fully when Azriel let out a short, rasping laugh. She watched him for a moment, smiling all the while, their eyes locked together. The gaze broke apart when they sensed Cassian’s gaze.

He was shaking his head again. “Nice sister, my ass,” he said under his breath as they continued along the twisting dirt path.

***

If Elain was even a bit nervous about how Azriel would handle The Incident , as she’d had taken to calling it in her head, her worries were short lived.

It was true that dinner had been an awkward affair. Vassa was predictably absent, but Jurian, who’d been gone for several weeks leading his armies, was there. At first, Elain had been rather grateful for his presence; at least he distracted Cassian enough that he stopped shooting wildly-obvious glares at Elain and Azriel.

But she’d severely underestimated Cassian’s burning hatred for the mortal general.

In retrospect, it made sense. Azriel hadn’t liked Jurian at first, either - and why would he, after the human had shredded his wings once? But after months of living in the Manor with the mortal, she could tell - even if he’d never explicitly said it - that any anger Az held toward the mortal had vanished.

Unfortunately, Cassian was just beginning his journey on the Road to Forgiveness; thus, the entirety of the meal was filled with barbed comments, pointedly rude observations and outright aggressive insults that grew progressively more offensive as the evening bore on. Elain bit her lip through most of the immaturity, but when Cassian snarkily referred to Jurian as a “One-Eyed Wonder of the World,” she neatly crossed her fork and knife over her plate and excused herself for the night.

She had more important things to do than try and make the boys play nicely. With all the chaos of the last week - from the revelations at the Day Court to the almost-kiss with Lucien to her and Azriel’s emotional reunion and to Cassian’s interruptions - there had been no time whatsoever to focus on calling forth any relevant visions.

Well. Perhaps there had been time, she thought guiltily. She simply had not made the time.

By this point in her training, Elain had grown powerful enough that she rarely went an hour without having some sort of premonition. However, unless she truly focused and exerted intentional energy toward her magic, the visions she did receive were incredibly fleeting and mostly useless. For example, when she got into bed each night, she foresaw the dress she’d choose to wear the next day. Did it save her time in the morning? Sure. But it certainly wasn’t solving any issues pertaining to the greater threat at play.

Two weeks. That’s all the time they had left before the Ball. All the time she had left to find out Vassa’s secret and how it pertained to both her and Koschei. All the time left she had to make a goddamn difference in this fight.

And if she was being entirely honest with herself, she hadn’t put forth the amount of effort she should have been exerting given the quickly-shortening timeframe.

Walking a bit more aggressively than before, she pushed open the door to her quarters, determined to spend the rest of the evening focusing on eliciting a vision that would be of some use to her and her family. It was her duty. Her responsibility. And she was going to succeed. She wouldn’t accept any other alternative.

But the second her door shut, she realized she wasn’t alone. She felt his presence behind her, felt the toe-curling chill that constantly accompanied him. The cool she always craved.

An instant later, she was thrown onto the bed, not roughly but with enough force that she bounced. She lay in the center of the mattress, propped up on her elbows. She couldn’t help the breathy little moan that escaped her lips as she watched Azriel prowl toward her. Gods , he looked like an Angel of Death, hazel eyes rimmed with darkness and onyx wings spread so wide the tips nearly grazed the walls. Then they curled in slightly, the claws at the end gripping the bed posters as he crawled onto the bed.

Cool, quick hands snatched at her ankles and dragged her forward until she lay flat on her back. And before she could even begin to protest, he spread her legs wide and pushed aside her undergarments. Any inkling of responsibility vanished completely from her mind the second the cool air hit her folds.

Then he returned the favor she’d given him earlier in the shed and devoured her like she was his last meal. She came quickly, so quickly it might have been a bit embarrassing if it was anyone else but him, crying out softly as her legs shook.

After he’d lapped her up, he found her lips and kissed them so softly, so tenderly, she felt like she was melting. She kissed him back, just as intensely, loving the taste of their desires mixed together.

They kissed for so long she lost track of time. When Azriel finally moved away, his lips were cherry red and swollen and juicy. She was sure hers were, too.

For several moments, they simply looked at each other, attempting to catch their breath..

“Az,” she finally said, still breathless.

“Mmm?”

“About…about earlier,” she began, then stopped. She was not sure how to phrase what it was she wanted to ask next.

If she was Nesta or Feyre, she’d have no problem coming right out and asking all the questions she wanted to ask - What is going to happen know that Cassian knows? or What the hell does this change in living arrangements mean for us? or What about when we leave the manor in just a few weeks? and most of all, What exactly are we to each other? In the shed, he’d said he liked her. But what else did that mean? What did that entail?

She was starting to fear she’d lose her mind if she didn’t get answers soon.

As it was, she was not either of her sisters. Much to her - and their - chagrin.

Azriel seemed to be blissfully unaware of the mental battle she was currently going through. One hand palmed the back of her head, the other thumbed her bottom lip. His eyes were hazy and unfocused. “Yes?” he murmured.

Sometimes, after sex, he looked at her like…she didn’t know how to explain it. Like he could look at her forever. Like he would never be done with her.

This was one of those times.

The questions she wanted to ask died on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t bring herself to ruin the moment. “When do you leave next?” she asked instead.

He frowned immediately. So much for not ruining the moment.

“I should have left hours ago,” he admitted.

It was her turn to frown. “And you stayed because of The Incident?”

He raised an amused brow at the moniker, but he nodded without any other comment.

She shook her head. “That was unnecessary,” she said. “I appreciate the gesture, truly…but you know I can handle myself.” A gentle finger traced the sharp line of his jaw. “You’re an important male with lots of important responsibilities.”

He shrugged. “Semi-important,” he allowed. “And I know you can handle yourself. It was Cassian who I was worried about. He has a very fragile constitution, and given the shock he went through earlier, I wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to faint or anything.” Azriel’s voice was low and teasing.

She loved him like this - relaxed, teasing, at peace. But she couldn’t shake the nagging disquiet that he’d shirked his responsibilities for her. His fierce dedication to serving the Night Court and ensuring all its citizens were safe was something she loved most about the shadowsinger. And the last thing she wanted was to hold him back from fulfilling that role.

Apparently, she didn’t do a very good job of keeping her worry off her face. “You have nothing to feel guilty over, Elain,” he said.

She chewed on her lip. “I don’t want to ever keep you from your duty,” she said.

“You are my duty,” he said seriously.

“Oh, stop it,” she said after a moment, though her effort to play off his comment was severely diminished by the deep blush that was indeed dusted across her cheekbones.

One side of his mouth tipped up. “I love how easy it is to make you blush.”

She groaned and covered her hands with her face, making him laugh. It wasn’t long before she was laughing, too.

By the time their laughter faded, an apologetic expression had replaced Azriel’s fond and relaxed one. “I do need to go now, though,” he said.

She immediately sat up. “That’s alright. I understand.” And she did.

The spymaster’s shadows appeared and engulfed him; seconds later they cleared, revealing a fully-clothed and fully-armored Azriel.

“I’ll only be gone for a day or two. Maybe three, if things don’t go as expected.” he said. “There’s someone I have to - something I have to do. But it shouldn’t take long.”

The desire to ask him where he was going was on the tip of her tongue. But if he wanted her to know, he would have told her, right? So she bit back the urge.

His bright hazel eyes roved over her face. “I’ll see you in a few days,” he finally said.

Elain nodded. Then she moved forward, and before he could register her actions, wrapped her lithe arms around his neck. After a stunned moment, he returned the gesture, enfolding her small, warm body in his embrace.

“Be safe on your mission,” she murmured, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. Her fingertips brushed the top of their bargain tattoo; the slight contact was enough to send a trail of embers down his spine, leaving him feeling rather unsteady. Not to mention that the softness of the action (and the instinctual way she’d done it, like it was second nature to her, like she couldn’t possibly imagine not doing it) had thawed a piece inside of him that had been frozen far too long.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she said.

He swallowed back the strange knot in his throat and forced out a low chuckle. Thankfully, as Elain leaned back to smile softly at him with a mischievous glint in her eye, she did not notice anything off.

He must have been staring at her for too long, because Elain let out a bright, lovely laugh. “Go,” she repeated, kissing his cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon,” he said back, his cheek still tingling from her kiss. Gods. If only his enemies could see him now: the great Illyrian warrior, the fearsome Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court, brought to his knees by a simple peck on the cheek. Would wonders never cease?

He hoped not. Perhaps, if he somehow was able to keep Elain by his side, he could ensure it.

TAGS (lmk if you would like to be removed/added)

Summary: Feyre asks Azriel to escort Elain out for a night in Velaris.

Notes: Mature / Spoilers for the entire ACOTAR series.

Sneak peak:

“Because I. . .” Azriel looked down at the forest they flew over for a moment before looking back at her gorgeous face. “Because it’s hard to be around you. Every second that I’m in your presence, I feel like I’m fighting for my life. I’m trying to keep my composure when all I really want to do is taste you, protect you, tell you how strongly I feel for you.”

She pads closer, not intending to—just wanting to see better the way his hair spills across his brow, the way the sunlight plays with the lines of him. She loves him in the light; it brings out all of his color, paints his shadows into striking contrast.

            He’s beautiful.

            He’s vulnerable.

            And he’s staring suspiciously at her through one cracked open eye. He hasn’t gotten up, hasn’t pulled in his wings—he should’ve.

Then, Nesta was facing him again with such sudden speed Cassian braced himself for an attack, but she only propped herself up onto an elbow. Her hair fell like a curtain over her shoulder, the flare of silver from her fingertips lighting the room with a sudden brightness.

“You asked why I read romance novels,” Nesta said, her voice having dropped into a sudden quiet fervour that was no less chilling. “I read them because I was engaged to a boy who turned out to be cruel, and I have watched a five hundred year old male discard and ignore me as he pleased. I would rather read about love than be in it. After all, I recall you saying that I was not worthy of love.”

“Sweetheart-” Cassian croaked. The blood had drained from his face and he knew that if he were to look in the mirror all he would see was a haunted ghost of himself. “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to say that. You were so empty. I couldn’t reach you and so I lied. I thought you’d get angry at me, but instead you just walked away.”

Summary:

“I knew it was you.”

“How?”

Story Summary: A few weeks after the ending of A Court of Silver Flames, the Night Court's newest warriors find themselves amongst familiar friends as they continue training to excel in their Valkyrie skills. But as a dark future calls to threaten the new sense of safety that Gwyn has found with her new found sisters and friends, she finds herself fighting even harder to become the person that will be able to save her friends- and herself.

Warnings: May have mental health triggers, especially towards self loathing and worthlessness.

Word Count: 1330

Part 1

Gwyn glared at Nesta, the gleam of sweat dripping down her face shining as brightly as her eyes as the girls sat down on the steps. “Remind me why I decided to join you in doing this?” Gwyn asked her as Nesta grabbed at one of the two glasses of water that had appeared their courtesy of her friendship with the House of Wind.

Gwyn had decided a few days ago that she was going to challenge herself in attempting the 10,000 from the House of Wind to Velaris. While she had wanted to get out of the Library for more than just training for a long time now, she still wasn’t ready to face the city yet. Giving herself the opportunity to join Nesta on the stairs would get her acclimated to seeing and hearing the city and decide when, if ever, she would be ready to see others once again. When she had asked Nesta to accompany her after working in the library today, Nesta had seemed shocked and delighted to join Gwyn on her endeavor- even if it meant telling her mate that he would be eating dinner alone that night (and based on how flushed Nesta seemed when she returned to meet Gwyn at the top of the steps, Gwyn figured that there was a promise made about what would be happening later because of it).

Guys. The Shadows that Sing just hit 1,000 kudos on AO3!!! OH MY GOD. Truly, I'm at a loss for words. I cannot thank you all enough for your support of this little fic of mine - it is not an exaggeration when I say that playing a small part in the wonderful Elriel community has been an absolute highlight of my life. I am so grateful for everyone whose read, reblogged, faved and posted about TSTS. This story means the world to me, and so do all of you who love it.

In honor of 1,000 (!!! still not over it !!!) kudos, here's a teaser for the next chapter of TSTS - which will be published by the end of the month at the latest:

“Even if I agree to keep whatever this is-'' he waved a flippant hand at the two of them - “a secret, Nesta will know I’m keeping something from her. She’s smart like that.”

“Or you’re just incredibly bad at keeping secrets,” Azriel said dryly.

Cassian glared at him. “You’re awfully bold for someone who just got caught in a garden shed with their dick hanging out.”

Azriel growled. “At least my dick is big enough to hang out of my pants. Shame you can’t say the same.”

Please enjoy this plot-light but smut-heavy chapter with a lovely twist ending.

Read it on ao3 here. 

Chapter 32: The Reins

The House of Wind looked different. It was nothing incredibly noticeable, but to someone who’d lived there for many years, Azriel could spot the nuances immediately.

The recently-installed bookshelves in the den. The preternatural steel-and-vanilla scent that hung around like smoke. Music playing in a distant room in the house, most likely turned on by Nesta and forgotten afterward, or perhaps she’d done it on purpose, so that it would never be quiet; she did love music after all. The warm, comforting glow of a House that was now a Home.

First Rhys, then Cassian…when would it be his turn? His heart twisted with envy. With pitiful want.

Was this kind of future - this simple, beautiful, vital existence - simply not in the cards for him? Was he truly destined to never find his other half?

His shadows swirled around him angrily at the thought. Azriel knew exactly how they felt; knew exactly what they were thinking.

She already has a mate , he reminded them silently. His shadows buzzed angrily, a feeling which Azriel sympathized with greatly.

It had to be said, though, that while the thought alone used to be enough to make him snarl out loud, for some reason, it had stopped having quite the same effect on him as it used to. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why the change had occurred - though it seemed to coincide neatly with when he and Elain started fucking like rabbits - but it was significant enough to have caught his notice.

So fucking what if she had a mate? So fucking what? The truth of the matter was that she didn’t like her so-called mate . Well, maybe she liked him fine, as a friend. Whatever. But she didn’t like her mate the way she liked Azriel. Her mate didn’t have her confidence, her secrets, her heart. Her mate didn’t make her scream like Azriel did when he was balls deep inside her.

And no one had ever made him feel the way Elain made him feel. That was the truth. So why the hells shouldn’t she be his? A flare of hope, so bright and foreign, burst inside him. His shadows bobbed excitedly. “Calm down,” Azriel berated them, rolling his eyes, but he didn’t bother hiding his grin.

He finally found Cassian on the rooftop of the House of Wind, running through his usual exercise routine.

“Az!” His brother cried jovially. The massive Illyrian warrior popped up from the one-armed push-up he’d been in, strode over and clapped him on the back. “I’ve missed you, brother.”

“Missed you too,” Azriel murmured, cheeks tinged pink. Cassian’s overt and verbal expression of emotion had always embarrassed him as much as it ingratiated him.

He cleared his throat and straightened his wings. “Where are the Valkyries?” The warriors’ training was normally held at this time.

“Haven’t you heard? They’re assigned to City Guard duty now,” Cassian said proudly. “So we’ve had to move our training to earlier in the day, before their rounds begin.”

“Impressive.”

“Some of the credit goes to you, I suppose. You did train them for a while,” Cas shrugged his wings. “Though more credit goes to me, of course.”

“Of course,” Az echoed, raising an amused brow. For a moment, he rather missed assisting with the Valkyrie training, but…well, his new assignment certainly had its benefits.

Additionally, it didn’t escape his notice that a very important aspect of Velaris security had been amended without his insight, approval or even awareness.

“When did this change go into place?” he asked sharply.

It was Cassian’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Yesterday,” he said. “That’s one of the reasons I asked you here. To tell you.”

Hmm. Maybe he was overreacting.

“So why aren’t you with the Valkyries?” Azriel asked, veering away from the awkward moment.

Cassian scowled. “Because the Overprotective Twins still don’t want me to ‘overexert’ myself.”

“Am I correct in assuming Rhys and Nesta are the Overprotective Twins?”

“You are correct.”

“Will you give me that same pouty face if I tell you that I, too, think it’s best if you take it easy for a few more weeks?”

“Why are you asking questions to things you already know the answer to?” Cassian said. “Anyway, we have more important things to discuss.”

“You’re the one blathering on.”

Cassian glared at him, and Az resisted the urge to grin. It was so easy to mess with his brother.

“Since I’ve been banned from physically exhausting ,” he said, the last phrase spoken with the kind of disdain one would use whilst saying thick mucus , “activity, I’ve been reassigned. I’m coming to stay at the Mortal Manor with you and Elain!”

Azriel’s heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. “What?” He choked out after an extended beat.

“Well, and Mor too, I guess.”

The shadowsinger froze completely.

“I’m heading over there tonight. Mor should be arriving tomorrow.”

“Great,” Azriel said, doing his best to express some pleasure so as to not hurt his brother’s feelings, though he was pretty sure he just came out looking rather constipated.

In all honesty, the whole scenario sounded utterly dreadful. He was going to be living in a Manor for gods only knew how long with:

A mortal queen who turned into a bird during sunlit hours,

An annoyingly chipper human who never knew when to shut up,

His best friend and adopted brother who also never knew when to shut up,

His other best friend, a blonde he’d loved for centuries, who had once slept with aforementioned brother,

The female he was currently in a - something with, who dominated his thoughts day in and day out, and who was currently hiding some very strong magical powers of her own,

And the male she was eternally bonded to, who just so happened to be the son of not one but two High Lords, and who Azriel could barely look at without feeling like kicking something. Or, sometimes, killing something.

Yeah. This was going to be a blast.

Cassian’s happy smile flickered in uncertainty.

“When was this decided?” Az asked, unable to help himself.

“Last night. That’s why I asked to meet you here. So I could tell you myself.”

Azriel stewed in silence. Despite what Cassian said, he couldn’t help but feel this was a conversation Rhys had purposefully chosen not to have with him.

And he had a shrewd hunch as to why.

“Stop brooding,” Cassian said, cuffing him over the head a little rougher than Azriel thought was entirely necessary. “I thought you’d be excited about this! I figured you were getting bored at the Manor, anyway.”

He frowned, his anger at Rhys momentarily forgotten. “What do you mean, bored?”

“I mean, there isn’t much good company to choose from, is there?” Cas started ticking off his fingers. “First you’ve got the one-eyed mortal who shredded your wings once. Then you have the one-eyed Fae who is related to one of the biggest pieces of shit in Prythian, and I guess also Helion, which we definitely need to discuss more later, because holy shit? Then you have Vassa, who actually seems pretty fun, but she loses points because of the whole bird thing. A friend who can only hang out at night? Nighttime is for my Nesta, not for tittering with pals over a game of cards.”

“Please don’t use the word tittering again,” Azriel said. “You can’t pull it off.”

Cassian continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted whatsoever. “And then there’s Elain. I mean, Elain is the greatest, and I know you two are good friends. But I’m sure all the garden talk gets old.”

“Excuse me?” His voice came out much darker than intended. His shadows were suddenly clinging tight to him.

Cassian blinked. “I just, I meant, you’re probably dying for some guy time, right?” He blinked innocently, clearly confused by Azriel glower.

“Elain is fantastic company,” he said through his teeth.

Cas helped up his hands. “Okay, okay! Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”

“It’s not me you offended. It’s your sister-in-law, remember?”

“I know,” Cassian said slowly.

“She is much more than just gardening.”

Cassian shook his head, his eyes widening. “Yeah, you’re right. Of course you’re right. That was rude of me to say.”

Azriel wanted to say something else, but Cassian was looking at him a bit too thoughtfully, a bit too suspiciously, so he got back to the task at hand.

“Why is this change happening?”

“Feyre and Rhys spoke to Lucien recently. Apparently he’s going to be away from the Manor for a while.”

That was odd. Elain hadn’t mentioned anything about Lucien’s new travel plans when she gave him an update barely three days ago. Perhaps she hadn’t known?

He frowned. “Why? And what is he going to be doing?”

“I’m not sure. But without Lucien there, it only leaves you to provide magical protection to the Manor, and you have all your little Spymaster duties to take care of, so you can’t be there all the time. Plus, given Vassa’s recent digression, and since we are getting so close to the ball, it was decided we should bulk up security anyway.”

“Was it?” Azriel said through gritted teeth. “You’d think I would have been asked for my opinion on the subject.”

Cassian looked uncharacteristically serious . “Relax, Az,” he said, not condescendingly. “Like I said - it was decided last night. I still don’t know what exactly has been making you and Rhys behave like fucking idiots, and I certainly don’t understand why it hasn’t been put to bed yet, but don’t let your personal feelings interfere with your professional ones. Rhys would never do anything that puts Velaris - that puts his family - at risk. This change was just made, and you’re finding out shortly after the fact.”

Azriel stood taut for a long moment before relaxing his wings and sighing. “That might have been the most mature thing you’ve ever said.”

“What are you talking about?” Cassian replied, offended. “I’m always mature.”

***

The Queen was avoiding her. Elain was sure of it.

Her first few weeks at the manor, she never went a day without the boisterous, bold red-head seeking her out. Whether it was to walk the grounds or have a glass of wine or sneak up on Jurian and scare him so hard he screamed (this only happened once, but was so hilarious she figured it warranted a mention), Elain spent more time with Vassa than without.

But now, the Queen was unnaturally - and suspiciously - unavailable.

The first night she returned from Velaris, Elain requested a late dinner. “Please tell Queen Vassa that I will wait up to eat with her,” she’d informed one of the servants. Despite Azriel’s advice to the contrary, she was determined to get some answers from Vassa. She figured the best course of action was to simply ply her friend with expensive wine and hope she got drunk enough and spilled whatever it was she so desperately wanted to keep a secret.

Elain waited in the dining room for three hours that night before accepting defeat.

The next evening, she tried a different tactic. The second the sun had set, Elain was at Vassa’s quarters and knocking hard on her door. After several minutes, the door finally opened. But it was another handmaiden, not her friend, who answered.

“She’s not feeling up for company,” the handmaiden said apologetically. Then she lowered her voice and widened her eyes meaningfully. “She’s been doing this a lot lately. Avoiding people.”

It was true that Vassa hadn’t been dealing with the curse’s return well. Understandably, of course. But Elain knew for a fact that Vassa hadn’t been isolating herself entirely - Azriel had said he’d visited her quarters just a few nights before. And her Fae senses could easily detect Jurian’s recent scent clinging to the silk tapestries adorning the queen’s quarters.

Elain was trying not to take it personally, but it was hard. She and Vassa had always confided in each other. They shared a bond that the others didn’t - a bond over similar traumatic experiences. Over situations out of their control that had, quite literally, altered them from the inside out. That had given them strange and uncommon abilities or “gifts” they’d never asked for, never wanted. That had caused them both to resort to hiding secrets in the deepest, darkest crevices of their souls. From the very first day she met Vassa, they had fallen into easy friendship in the simple, lovely way that only women can. No matter her hurt over the secrets Vassa was keeping from her, Elain couldn’t help but trust her.

She and Vassa understood each other, simple as that. And it was because of this innate trust and understanding that she couldn’t help but feel that whatever it was Vassa was afraid to tell her wasn’t quite that bad. Despite the initial anger she’d felt, Elain was having a difficult time imagining the queen actually withholding something dangerous or detrimental from her. She just couldn’t imagine her friend doing that.

But until Vassa told her, Elain was stuck with only her own worries and wonders.

It was also rather inconvenient that her only chance to speak with Vassa was at night, since during the day she was indisposed. Not that she blamed the queen, of course. But it was messing with her sleep schedule all the same. She was almost glad that Azriel had been off on his Spymaster duties the past few days (keyword: almost). His absence had, at least, guaranteed her nights full of uninterrupted sleep.

With nothing else to do during the daytime but stew over the unanswered questions pounding against her skull, she’d taken to practicing her powers. The past few days, she’d spent nearly all her waking hours in the conservatory, testing out different powers, pushing the limit of her magic - and discovering that, so far, the limit did not exist.

Elain was not one to brag, but if she was, she would have boasted loudly for all to hear. She was getting good. Really good.

Not only had she regrown all the flowers, trees and plants back that Koschei had so rudely destroyed - she’d added to the array, using her expert gardener’s eye to create a practical oasis in the middle of the Mortal Manor. A patch of petunias covered the vast majority of the east wing. Troves of wisteria hung over her head. The ground itself was coated with lush, spongy moss that felt like springs beneath her feet.  A thick web of ivy crawled up the high stone walls and arching windows alike.

It surprised her as much as it pleased her that the better she got at controlling her magic, the stronger her magic seemed to become. It was an endless loop of buzzing, positive energy, feeding into itself and onto itself and multiplying in turn. It was the kind of power that was intoxicating and terrifying and empowering, all at the same time, and Elain loved it.

She’d just finished growing a patch of incredibly rare camellias when the lovely scent of cedar, wind and smoke engulfed her senses.

“Impressive,” Azriel said. He was standing in the shadows beneath a nearby poplar, watching her with those intense hazel eyes.

She cocked an eyebrow. Then, with a delicate flick of her fingers, a huge, tri-colored orchid appeared directly beside him.

That smug bastard didn’t even bat an eyelash.

“Elain Archeron,” he said, and just like every time he said her full name, she shivered a little bit. “You might just save us all yet.”

Her responding smile may have been light and casual, but the feeling in her chest certainly wasn’t. What was it about this male and his simple, lovely words that made her heart trip over itself?

A coward in denial , she thought to herself. She knew exactly why he affected her so.

“Any updates from Velaris?” Elain asked quickly, wanting to change the subject.

Azriel may have been a pro at masking his emotions, but by now, Elain was a pro at reading him. And she could tell, in the mere second he hesitated to reply, that something of importance had occurred.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“What?”

He regarded her, still wearing a carefully blank expression that didn’t fool her one bit.

“Tell me,” she said. Softly…but also powerfully.    

A tendon in his jaw ticked, and something in his energy changed ever so subtly.

“Not here,” he said, and before she could take a proper breath, he was pulling her toward the garden shed that sat at the very back of the conservatory. Elain hadn’t entered the shed in a long time - certainly not since Phillip’s death, she thought sadly - because she had not had any need for gardening tools. Not anymore. The magic in her blood, so easily stirred these days, seemed to tingle at the thought.

Azriel entered the shed first, striding her over the threshold of the shed, his massive wings flexing behind him. He was still giving off a strange aura, though what exactly was different, she couldn’t quite say.

The second the door closed, the story rushed out of him. And with each new word that fell out of Azriel’s mouth, Elain’s face fell a little more.

“When are they coming?” she asked when he’d finished, her voice steady despite the fear evident in her eyes.

He grimaced. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!” she gasped.

He nodded.

“But we can’t have that!” she cried. “I mean,” she cleared her throat, lowering her voice, “logistically speaking.”

“Logistically speaking?” he raised an eyebrow, causing a blush to immediately dust over her lightly-freckled cheeks.

“Yes.”

He cocked his head to the side. “What logistics are you referring to?”

“Well, I mean, my training, of course,” she said, refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s just, you know, I’m just, I’m still not ready for the others to know about my magic.”

Well, the whole “secret powers'' situation was a can of worms Azriel simply didn’t have the energy - nor the desire - to get into right now. Further than that, though, he could tell that Elain wasn’t telling the truth - or the entire truth, more likely. And it didn’t take a wizard to discern why.

Her wide, worried eyes, the nervous pitter-pattering of her heart, the way her fingers were unconsciously twisting themselves together over and over again…she was afraid. Afraid of what this change meant, not for her training, but for them . Afraid of how Mor and Cassian’s presence would affect what they had.

Azriel, who had thought of practically nothing else since hearing of the new situation himself, completely understood her distress. He’d felt the same way, at first. No, this situation was definitely not ideal. Yes, it was going to be a hell of an adjustment. And yeah, it was going to be difficult. He knew it as well as she, an undeniable fact.

But there was also an unshakeable certainty burning inside him that assuaged all these initial fears. If the last few months had taught him anything, it was that he and Elain were made for the shadows; as an entity, as a couple , they had always been forced to exist only in the dark, liminal slices of time, surviving only because they kept defeating every barrier that stood in their way, lasting only because they did not cower in the darkness but faced it head-on.

This newest obstacle was just another to knock down. It was just going to be a little bit harder now. But he had no doubt that they would find a way to see each other. He would simply not allow anything to the contrary.

He wasn’t ready to give her up yet.

Elain’s anxious face swam back into focus. So he decided to ease her worries - and assuage his own desires - and to have a bit of fun for both of them.

“Oh, your training ,” he said. “Silly me for thinking of another illicit activity entirely.” He smirked.

She narrowed her eyes. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t. I’m not very good at picking up on context clues.”

“Says the Spymaster with supersonic hearing.” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

His eyes immediately flicked to her chest.

“Wipe that smirk off your face before I wipe it off for you,” Elain said.

His grin grew wider. She was in a feisty mood today. “Is that a promise?” he purred.

She huffed dramatically. “You’re annoying when you smirk,” she said childishly.

Quick as a snake, he pulled her flush against him.

“You’re annoying when you snore at night,” he said.

Elain’s face went hot. “I do not snore!”

“You do.” He nipped at her nose. “Every night.” His teeth grazed her jaw this time, sending an unwilling rush of heat through her. “Without fail.”

“I do not snore, Azriel,” she repeated hotly, surreptitiously squeezing her thighs together.

“I can’t believe your sisters never told you! Didn’t the three of you share a bed for years?” He laughed at the indignant look on her face, incensing her further.

“I loathe you,” she said crossly.

He ran his hands through her hair, then cupped her face, his thumb lightly tracing her bottom lip. “We both know that’s not true,” he said. “But I did lie. It’s not annoying when you snore.” His mouth was now mere inches from hers, so close she could taste his sweet breath. “It’s fucking adorable .”

When she scowled, he started laughing again.

She shoved at him. Humoring her, he fell back onto the low work table behind him, still chuckling. Then, to his surprise (and, quite honestly, her own), she straddled him, one lithe leg at a time.

***

At the first roll of her hips, his laughter guttered out.

“Am I adorable when I do this?” she asked, studying his face closely.

The muscles in Azriel’s jaw tightened. “Not the word I’d use.”

“No?” She repeated the motion, feeling him harden beneath her. “What word would you use, then?” Leaning forward, she nuzzled his neck with her nose, then replaced the touch with her lips. Softly kissed the knot on his throat. “What about…sweet?”

“No. Though you are very sweet, in every sense of the word.” As if in emphasis, he buried his face in her curls and inhaled deeply.

Elain blushed, grateful that her face was still hidden in the crook of his shoulder. She did not want to display any semblance of embarrassment. Elain wasn’t quite sure what boldness had come over her, but she knew that this was her moment to have him, not the other way around, and she did not want to give him any reason to take back the power. Not when it so rarely belonged to her. Not when he would, inevitably, take control again, and soon. She knew his tells well enough by now, knew that he could only handle someone else holding the reins for a few moments before he took them for himself.

But even if he could never admit it out loud, she also knew how much it turned him on when she took control. Even if just for a little while.

A shudder went through his entire body as she licked up his throat. Her mouth watered at the delectable tang of the thin film of sweat coating his body - and now her tongue - tangible proof of the significant effect she had on him.

“What about…lovely?” she murmured, ghosting her lips over his.

“You are so fucking lovely,” he said, eyes dark and dangerous. “But no. That’s not the word I was thinking of, either.”

Elain frowned. He was still forming complete, coherent sentences. He was still looking at her with clear hazel eyes. Which meant he was nowhere close to where she wanted him to be.

So she tugged at his shirt in a silent request. Watched as he pulled it over those massive, powerful wings and tossed it to the dirt-strewn floor, neither of them caring or even remembering where they were. She ran her hands across his golden, muscled torso the second he yanked it off, her eyes wide. Sidled further down, placing her lips lovingly, adoringly, on each taut ripple of abs. Gods have mercy. His body was a fucking treasure. Sometimes she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to see it, feel it, worship it.

Azriel was heaving in earnest now, his bare chest rising and falling with a cacophonic cadence. When her fingers dipped below the waistband of his pants, he let out a tortured groan.

Better , she thought, grinning to herself. Without letting herself hesitate, she slid to her knees and boldly pulled down both his pants and underwear. Her mouth fell open as his thick length escaped its confines, standing straight to attention and throbbing in anticipation.

She’d seen his cock before, of course. Felt it in her hands. Inside her body. But at this angle, so close, the sheer size of him struck her anew. Gods. He was utterly magnificent.

A bead of liquid formed at the top of his manhood. She eyed it, feeling slightly nervous but mostly greedy. She licked her lips. Then she licked down the center of her palm.

Azriel let out a strangled moan. Flicking her eyes up, she was pleased to see a dizzy, overwhelmed expression on his face. “You don’t have to do this,” he croaked out, and no words had ever sounded more forced.

“But what if I want to?” she asked, widening her eyes innocently before wrapping a hand around him. She clenched her fist a little harder than intended, but Azriel didn’t seem to mind.

“Holy fuck,” he said, throwing his head back against the mattress. His whole body was shaking - with restraint, eagerness, or pure and unadulterated lust, she wasn’t sure. She hoped it was a sinful mixture of the three.

She continued to stroke him, taking her time to admire the gorgeous specimen before her, learning what he liked. The harder she squeezed, the more noises of pleasure he made; when she accidentally scraped her nails down him, his hips thrust up and a choked sound came from his throat. She smiled softly, and the next time her nails grazed him, it was entirely intentional.

“You’re so big,” she mused a few minutes later, mostly to herself. The rock-hard member in her hand twitched in response.

“ Elain ,” he moaned. “Stop torturing me.”

Elain did not deign to reply. Instead she sent him a crooked, wicked smile and leaned forward. Her mouth was now mere inches away from his pulsing length. He growled in anticipation.

“We never came to a decision,” she said.

“What?”

“We never decided what word accurately describes me,” she said, still moving her fist up and down, up and down. “But I think I know.” She leaned forward. “What about…” she poked her tongue out and gently licked the tip. “ Generous ?”

A great shudder worked its way through Azriel’s body, and then he was tugging her forward by the hair. “Fucking gods, Elain,” he said in a dark, grating voice. “Put your mouth on me. Now .”

Elain glanced up at him, a bit of shyness slipping through her otherwise confident exterior for the first time since she’d rolled her hips into his rock-hard lap. “Tell me what feels good, okay?”

Before he could even begin formulating a response, she wrapped her mouth around the tip and sucked. Hard. A deliciously strangled sound crawled from the back of his throat.

“That, honey, that feels so good,” he said.

Slowly but eagerly, she continued sucking him, taking him a little deeper with each new head bob, her hand covering the part of his length that her mouth couldn’t reach.

“Is this your first time doing this?” he asked, panting. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes and, without taking her mouth off his cock, nodded.

He groaned. “You’re too much. You’re too perfect.” His hazel eyes gazed fiercely into her own. Long, cool fingers grabbed her hair like reins, urging her forward once again. And this time, she took him as deep as her throat allowed.

She watched as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. As his mouth dropped open in a silent cry of pleasure. Even when she gagged slightly, she didn’t retreat until he guided her backward.

“Fuck,” he growled. Then he got to his feet, those mighty wings of his spanning from one end of the shed to the other. He tugged lightly on her shoulders, beckoning her to stand with him. “Let me taste you, too,” he said.

Mother above, this male was sexier than anyone had a right to be. And though his offer was quite tempting, she wasn’t finished playing with him. Gods, no. She wasn’t even close.

Ignoring him, she moved forward again, putting as much of him inside her mouth as she possibly could. She tightened her fist around the base and pumped in time with the motion of her throat, hard and steady.

Immediately, Azriel abandoned any notion of doing something else; instead, he just abandoned himself to her , wrapping her hair tight around his fist. The thought itself was enough to send a new rush of wetness to slicken her thighs.

For a while, he let her set the pace; she curiously bobbed up and down his length, pausing every once in a while to lick down the shaft or to suck solely on the head. He let her know how he was feeling the entire time.

“Gods, that’s good,” he said, or “You have the sweetest little mouth,” or “That’s my girl.” The more he praised her, the wetter she became, until she was unwittingly grinding her core against his leg, desperate to sate the pulsing ache between her thighs but still determined to bring him to climax with just her mouth.

She let out a moan of her own at how delicious he tasted, at how much she loved making him feel so good. How much she loved stoking the flames burning between them. Loved pushing him to his very limits. Loved looking at him and touching him and being with him, and oh, oh, oh . She just loved him so very, very much.

“I’m close,” he grunted out.

Everything began moving faster - her throat, her hand, her tongue - as she worked to bring him to the edge.

“Elain, if you don’t move soon, I’m going to come in your mouth,” he gritted out. He was unbelievably close; hanging on by a damn thread.

Those big brown eyes blinked up at him. His cock twitched in response. Fuck , what was it about her innocence that turned him on so much?

Then, without breaking eye contact, she nodded once.

Oh gods. He wasn’t going to survive her, was he?

“You don’t have to,” he said for the second time that night, even though his manhood was so hard it hurt. Even though he wanted nothing more than to watch her swallow his seed, watch her try and take everything he gave her.

“I want to,” she murmured, tracing her lips against the tip of his cock as she spoke, and the vibration sent a new rush of pleasure through him. Her eyes were wide and sincere and fucking intoxicating. “I want it all, Az.”

“ Fuck ,” he rasped out. “Beg me.”

She nodded earnestly, lashes fluttering. “ Please .” She gave a particularly hard suck. “Please, please give it to me.”

Azriel’s restrained snapped. Widening his stance slightly, he tightened the grip of his fingers tangled in her hair and, with an almighty thrust, shoved himself down her throat. With nowhere else to go, her hands clutched onto the backs of his thighs, hanging on for dear life. He repeated the motion over and over again, his pace relentless, his force unforgiving, his lust greater than ever before.

“Always so polite,” he said, the words closer to a growl than anything, “always so courteous. Even when you’re choking on my cock. Even when you’re begging me to fill you up with my cum.”

She let out a little whimper at that. The sound vibrated pleasantly against his thick length. He was awestruck at the way she took him down her throat with such adoration; with a reverence he’d never known before, even as he ruthlessly rammed in and out of her mouth.

It seemed a miracle that he was still going, though he knew the end was drawing close, knew it like he knew shadows and darkness and death. “Tell me, Elain,” he said, “Will you use those pretty manners to show your gratitude when I shoot my load down your throat? Will you tell me thank you as my cum is spilling from your perfect little mouth?”

Her answer came as a wicked twist of the lips, and then the lightest scratch of teeth against his rock-hard manhood - and he was absolutely done for. With an almighty roar, he shoved his hips forward one final time and came hard, stars and supernovas and planets exploding behind his eyelids.

It took several moments for him to regain his composure. By the time he did, he was bent over at the waist and breathing embarrassingly hard. He glanced down. Below him, still kneeling between his legs, was Elain. She was looking at him, too. He’d never seen such a gorgeous sight as Elain Archeron on her knees, spit dripping down her chin - or so he thought until a mere moment later when, without blinking, she swallowed, his ample release working its way down her slender, creamy throat.  

He growled, low and deep. Despite the earth-shattering and balls-draining orgasm he’d just had, his cock went semi-hard. He wanted her again already, and he would want her after this next time, too, and the time after that; he could see himself wanting her for all of eternity.

Elain licked her lips. Then she smiled as she closed her eyes, as if savoring the taste.

It was the last straw. So quickly she gasped, he tugged her up, not roughly but certainly not gently, and kissed her deeper than the sea. She kissed him back just as eagerly, palming his face between her hands, desperate to get closer to him somehow, even though they were pressed against each other so tightly she did not know where she ended and he began -

The shed door opened with a bang. Azriel and Elain sprung back from each other and whipped around toward the source of the interruption.