#asoias

The silence shattered when Cassian barged in, loud as ever.

“Good morning, Y/n, Az,” he announced, striding across the room like he owned it. Without hesitation, he plucked the toast straight from Y/n’s hand and shoved it into his mouth.

“Ugh! I hope you choke on it.” Y/n glare could’ve cut grass.

“Cassian.” Azriel gave his brother a small nod of acknowledgement, tone even, though inwardly he exhaled. He had never in his life been more relieved to see his brother of all people. At least  now, the awkward silence and tension were gone. 

He went on eating quietly, watching the familiar rhythm between Y/n and Cassian, their easy bickering and sharp-edged teasing. 

Cassian scraped out a chair and dropped into it beside Y/n just as she reached for some fruit. His grin was impossible to ignore as he picked up an apple, bit into it with exaggerated slowness, and stared at her far too intently. Even Azriel found himself wondering what mischief he was up to.

“What’s with you today?” Y/n narrowed her eyes at him.

“Nothing. I’m just happy.”

“What did you do, General?” Her tone sharpened, suspicion clear.

The question was really: who did he do?

“Nothing important.” Oh, the second she found out, all hell would break loose. Not only had he slept with her sister, but he had the audacity to call it– or her– ‘not important’. 

Azriel stilled at that. He knew when Casian was poking a hornet’s nest, and this– this was going to blow up the moment Y/n pieced it together.

“You smell weird,” Y/n remarked, nose wrinkling.

Cassian and Azriel exchanged a quick sidelong glance. Both knew exactly what that smell was.

Before Cassian could fire back, Nesta walked in. Y/n had checked on her after their return; she’d been bruised, exhausted, but fine. Today, though, she was glowing. Instead of sitting beside her sister, Nesta slid into the center seat, neatly between Y/n and Azriel, who occupied either end of the table.

“Good morning,” she greeted.

“Morning.” Y/n tilted her head, studying Nesta with narrowed eyes. “You seem different.”

“Do I? It’s probably the bruises.”

“Hmmm… is it? Because despite the bruises, you look amazing.”

“Thank you.” Nesta said nothing more, but Cassian almost choked on his apple at that.

Y/n took a sip of her coffee, catching the way Cassian looked at her sister, and the way Nesta stole glances back at him. She turned to Azriel for a hint of anything, but his face was unreadable, a mask carved of stone. Oh, he knew something. That much was clear in the way he remained perfectly still.

“Tell me, Y/n, how was your night?” Cassian asked, taking another loud bite of his apple.

“It was alright. Why do you ask?” Y/n frowned. Something was definitely off. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me how my night was?”

Azriel and Nesta both shot him identical warning glares.

“Do I even want to know how your night was?”

“I’m glad you asked. I had a great night. One of the best, actually.”

“What the fuck has gotten into you? Are you sick?” Y/n turned to him fully now, suspicion sharp.

“Only time will tell.” He smirked, maddeningly smug.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to her coffee. 

“Are we going back today?” She asked no one in particular.

“We’ll leave after breakfast. I’ll drop you off, then I have somewhere else to be,” Azriel replied.

“More torture?” Y/n questioned, eyeing him. He was oddly vague this morning.

“Not today.” And that was all he was going to say.

—-

As Y/n was getting ready for bed, a knock sounded on her door. She hadn’t gone to training tonight, and neither had Azriel. 

When she opened the door, she found the Shadowsinger standing there with a small box or cage cradled in his scarred hands.

“I don’t think I have the energy to train tonight,” she said with a slight exhale, leaning against the frame.

“I’m not here for that.” His mouth twitched in something like a smile.

“Then–?”

“I brought you something.”

“What? Why?” Her suspicion was immediate, reflexive as she straightened.

Azriel lifted the lid, and when his hand emerged, a tiny black kitten curled there in his big palm. It looked absurdly small against the span of his fingers. It made her heart and stomach clench in a weird way. 

“It’s the closest thing I could find to a wild animal with claws and somewhat fangs, one that wouldn’t be too dangerous.”

“This is.. for me?” she asked, slow, the disbelief clear in her voice as she looked at the kitten then back at him.

“Yes.” He handed the kitten to her, careful, the way someone would pass a fragile relic. She immediately pressed it to her chest. Tiny paws flexed and kneaded against her shirt, claws pricking the fabric as if already claiming her as its own.

Azriel watched her face change in a way he rarely saw: the hard line at her mouth softened, the alertness around her eyes thawed. In her eyes, he saw a kind of love and care he’d never witnessed before. Yes, she loved her sisters dearly, but the way she showed it was different– indirect, fierce, protective. If anyone harmed them, they’d suffer the consequences. 

With this kitten, whom she’d just met, she was immediately soft. Gentle. Careful. Unarmored. The sight made something in his chest ache, wishing for a fleeting, ridiculous moment that he was the creature in her arms.

“What is the occasion for this magnificent gift?” she asked, eyes never leaving the tiny animal now.

“There’s no occasion. I thought you might appreciate some company. Someone– or something– to talk to in this house, since you don’t feel comfortable opening up to people.”

“I– I don’t know what to say other than thank you.” She finally looked up at him.

“That is enough.” His mouth curved into a small, honest smile.

“I am truly grateful. Thank you, Shadowsinger.” She rose onto her toes, and hugged him with one arm, careful not to crush the kitten still nestled against her chest. Then she pressed a soft, unexpected kiss to his cheek. 

Azriel went still, caught off guard. Though her skin was cold, he couldn’t help but feel the warmth of her embrace, and the ghost of her lips left a faint burn that made him ache more. It was a small thing, ridiculous and intimate, but it left him wanting more without him wanting to admit it.

Who knew it would take one small creature to bring this side of her to the surface?

“I hope he makes you happy,” he said at last, eyes pinned to hers though she was already lost in the kitten, like he was her whole world.

“He already has.” She booped its nose lightly. “Aren’t you the sweetest little thing?” 

“So what are you going to call him?”

“Hmm, I don’t know yet…Maybe Shadow?”

Azriel chuckled. “Really?”

“Oh, come on- it has nothing to do with you. He’s black and he’ll probably vanish into the dark. Hopefully he’ll follow me around, like a shadow… Wait,” she laughed, bright and surprised at herself. “That actually does sound like you.”

“I’m definitely not a cat.”

“No, you’re a bat. Oh, that rhymes.” She looked up at him, grin still wide.

He laughed in spite of himself. “So between us, who would you choose?”

“Obviously, my little Shadow.”

“Ugh. I could easily take him back, you know,” he teased.

“Don’t you even dare try it. I’ll murder you. It’s too late now, he’s mine, and he has my whole heart, don’t you, you little cute thing?”

“I can see that. And I can sense he’s going to be a troublemaker.”

 “What can I say? He takes after his mother.” Y/n shrugged, a smug little tilt to her lips. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to cuddle with my baby.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Azriel shook his head, eyes lifting upward as if to appeal to the Mother herself.

“Good night, Shadowsinger, and thank you for the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“Goodnight, troublemaker. And don’t stay up too late.”

Azriel found himself smiling the entire way back to his room. When he finally rested his head on the pillow, all he could think about was how happy Y/n had looked. The way her eyes had sparkled with joy, the way her heart had been so obviously full of love. Tonight, he’d finally seen the part of her that he knew existed all along, but had never been allowed to see.

—-

“How was your trip?” Gwyn asked as she spotted Y/n tucked into a chair in the library. It had been a while since they’d last spoken.

“It was alright. I got to see two new places.”

“I heard the Bog of Oorid is terrifying, and Hewn City is where nightmares live.”

“People tend to exaggerate,” Y/n  said with a shrug, leaning back in her chair. “They’re not that bad. But…” she lifted a brow. “I did get stabbed, so there’s that.”

Gwyn gaped. “Wait– what? Tell me everything.”

And so Y/n did. Strangely, she didn’t feel the need to push Gwyn away, even though she was genuinely enjoying her company. 

When Y/n finished, Gwyn leaned in, eyes alight. “Now that you and Nesta are talking to each other again, you should come train with us.”

“I’ve heard about the Illyrian training.” Y/n wrinkled her nose. “I’m not interested in becoming a warrior or doing all that exercise.”

“If you don’t want to train that hard, then maybe you could join the other priestesses. Some came to training yesterday, and now they’re training with Azriel. He’s taking it slow with them.”

That caught Y/n off guard. Her brows rose. “The Shadowsinger is training priestesses? And he’s going easy on them?” There was no hiding the thread of jealousy that slipped into her voice.

“Yes.” Gwyn grinned. “It’s really great. But he’s very quiet and reserved.”

—

That night, Y/n went to the training ring to burn off some restless energy, though part of her hoped she’d find Azriel there. 

And she did. 

He was already mid-exercise, his body moving with effortless precision, shadows curling faintly at his back. Sweat traced slow trails down his temples, glinting in the moonlight.

“Are we training tonight?” she cleared her throat, stepping into the light.

“If that’s what you wish.” He didn’t pause, didn’t look at her for more than a second.

“I just thought you’d be exhausted. I heard you’re training new novices. I hope they’re not giving you trouble.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to sound casual, but the sharpness in her tone betrayed her.

“No one is as troublesome as you. Don't worry.” he let out a quiet chuckle, sensing her jealousy.

“Mm hm.” She crossed her arms, posture stiffening just enough for him to notice.

Azriel slowed, before turning to study her. “Y/n Archeron,” he said slowly, “are you jealous?”

“Why would I be?” she scoffed, a little too quick.

“Because I’m training other females.”

“I get to have you all to myself at night, while they all get an hour or two.” 

The words slipped out before she could stop them. Her eyes widened the second she realized how it sounded.

Azriel’s laugh was low, genuine, and wholly unguarded. He knew exactly what she’d meant, but her horrified expression was too much to resist. The Shadowsinger who rarely smiled had been laughing more and more in her presence. It was a sight to behold.

“It’s not that funny,” she muttered, glaring at him with a pout that only made it worse.

“Seeing the horror on your face is.”

 “You’ve been spending a lot of time with the General lately, I see.” 

“You wanna chit-chat all night, or actually spar?”

“Asshole,” she whispered under her breath.

“I won’t be going easy on you tonight,” he warned, tone slightly darkening.

“Is it because you found other people to go easy on?” she shot back, chin lifting in challenge.

“Careful.” His voice dropped lower, his mouth curving into a dangerous half-smile. “Your jealousy is showing again.”

She rolled her eyes, though the faint twitch of a smirk betrayed her. “That’s actually better. I told you from the beginning not to go easy on me.”

“By the end of the night, you’ll be begging me to.”

“I never beg.” She mock-glared at him, pulse quickening.

His shadows stirred like they’d caught the spark between them, restless and charged. “We’ll see.”

Their sparring session was heated from the first strike– less training, more an outlet for whatever tension simmered between them. Both of them had energy, and other things beneath the surface that needed to be released. Azriel moved like shadow and steel incarnate, relentless and precise. She had heard stories of his ruthlessness in training, but the stories never did him justice.

If she had a heart of ice when it came to emotions, then his was forged from the same frost when it came to combat. Every strike cut closer. Every feint sought to dismantle her defenses.

By the end of the session, her chest heaved, sweat dripping down her spine, lungs burning. Still, she refused to give him the satisfaction of quitting…of begging.

Whatever had made him decide not to hold back tonight, Y/n couldn’t tell. He was like another person entirely– merciless, relentless. And she would meet him strike for strike, even if it drained her entirely.

“How are you feeling, Archeron?” His smirk was infuriating, somehow making him look hotter than usual. And she hated that she noticed.

“I’m great,” she rasped, bracing her hands on her knees to steady her breath.

“Come on, you’re getting sloppy. Your enemies won’t wait for you on the battlefield.” His voice was all bite, no softness.

“I’ll leave the battlefield to you,” she shot back without looking up.

“Are you giving up?” He circled her slowly, his sword dangling loose in his grip, eyes sharp and predatory. The growing cockiness in his tone only made her boil with frustration.

“Not in your wildest dreams.” She panted, pausing between words. “I’m…just…saying…I…wouldn’t…be…in this…situation…in…real…life.”

“And this is not real life?” His voice was provokingly calm, as though this were nothing more than a casual exchange over tea.

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” His tone dipped lower, cruel in its composure. “You seem to be having trouble speaking. Come on, pick up the sword.”

She barely managed to lift it before he lunged. The impact rattled through her arms as she stumbled back, blocking at the last second.

“If you’re tired, we can just stop.”

“No. Go again.” She gathered what strength she had left.

“You’re as stubborn as a mule,” he sighed, then twisted sharply. Her blade went clattering to the floor. 

The tip of his sword hovered at her throat, the faint scrape of steel against her delicate skin. “It’s over, Y/n. Do you surrender?”

“If you think I’m going to beg, you’re mistaken.” She looked up at him, eyes blazing with defiance, fire burning through the ice of her heart.

“You’d rather die?” His brow arched.

“You’re not going to kill me. And I’m not afraid of death.” 

Then she stepped forward. Just enough for the blade to bite. A thin line of red bloomed across her neck.

Azriel’s eyes snapped wide. He ripped his sword back instantly, his entire demeanor shifting. All the smugness drained, leaving only hard, sharp concern.

“You’re crazy.”

“So I’ve been told.” She smirked, though her breath hitched faintly at the sting.

“Tonight’s session is over.” He sheathed the blade at his back, turning as if to leave, then paused. His head tilted slightly, shadows coiling tighter around him “And Y/n?” His voice dropped, cold and commanding. “Don’t do something reckless like that again.”

“Come on, it’s just a little cut–”

“That little cut was caused by my sword,” he said flatly. No trace of teasing now, no hint of pride. Only ice. “It might not matter to you, but it means a great deal to me.”

Something in his tone cut deeper than his blade had. She relented with a sigh. “Alright. I’m sorry.”

He gave a short nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest.”

—

“Good morning Nesta. Berdara. General,” Y/n drawled as she stepped into the fighting ring, her tone casual, the kind that always earned a smirk from Cassian.

“Ah, Y/n, how nice of you to join us.” Cassian arched a brow, his grin spreading slow and wide. “But what’s with the sudden change?”

“Berdara told me you’ve moved on to swords, so I came to have a look.” She strolled closer, hands loose at her sides. “I figured I’d spare you some time in training me.”

That was definitely the reason she was here. Not because a certain Shadowsinger was only a few feet away, drilling a group of females, shadows curling lazily around him, while she kept sneaking glances his way. No, that was absolutely not the reason. 

“How considerate of you. Is your heart turning soft for me?” Cassian teased, eyes glittering with mischief.

“Keep dreaming, General. Just don’t try to boss me around.” Y/n pointed a warning finger at him, her glare promising pain if he pushed it.

“As you wish, your highness.” He gave her a mocking bow, earning a snort from Gwyn.

“Are they always like this?” Gwyn whispered to Nesta, amusement tugging at her lips.

“It seems so,” Nesta replied dryly. “But only when Y/n is in a good mood.”

Cassian’s grin faltered as his gaze caught her neck. “What happened there?” He gestured toward the faint cut that Azriel’s blade had left.

“I accidentally cut myself,” Y/n said smoothly, but the lie was laughable even to her own ears.

Cassian blinked. “You cut yourself? On your neck? How the hell do you manage to accidentally cut your neck? If you said your hand or finger, maybe I’d have believed it.”

From the corner of her vision, Y/n caught Azriel’s head turn, his gaze flickering briefly to the mark. Then it was gone before anyone else noticed. 

“Maybe I just tripped over something,” she added airily with a shrug. “And there happened to be something sharp where I landed.”

Cassian narrowed his eyes. “Whatever you say, Y/n. But I’m not buying it.”

The lesson went on without incident, and surprisingly, Y/n didn’t stir up any trouble this time.

When they wrapped up, she crossed to the third female. “Hey, we haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Y/n, Nesta’s older sister. You might have heard that I’m a bitch or something, and all of it is true.”

The female chuckled, offering her hand. “You don’t make a lot of friends, do you? I’m Emerie.” 

Y/n eyed her hand for a beat before reluctantly shaking it. “No, not really.”

“I could tell,” Emerie smiled.

“I need to find a nickname for you,” Y/n remarked.

“Why?”

“She has a habit of calling people by anything but their names,” Nesta supplied without looking up.

“She’s called yours and Gwyn’s,’” Emerie said with a laugh.

“The only exceptions are my sisters,” Y/n added quickly. “I called Berdara by her last name. That’s different.”

“How so?”

“It’s more… formal.”

Emerie grinned. “And now I know why you don’t make friends. But don’t worry, I’m gonna make you say my name.” 

“Confident. I like you.” Y/n tilted her head, a subtle smirk playing at her lips. “You’re Illyrian, right?”

Emerie frowned slightly, caught off guard. “Yes, why?”

“Hey, Shadowsinger?” Y/n called across the ring. Azriel glanced over, and she jerked her chin toward Emerie. “She’s Illyrian. You don’t hate her, right? Only the males?”

Azriel didn’t dignify that with an answer. He just shook his head and went back to the novices.

“Are you always this…chill?” Emerie asked. 

Nesta scoffed.

“I’m far from being chill. Ask anyone who knows me.”

“She’s right.” Nesta added wryly. “You should see her when she’s arguing with Cassian, or when she’s really pissed at someone.”

She didn’t bother replying, only let her gaze sneak toward the far end of the ring. Azriel’s shadows stirred as his eyes found hers. He inclined his head once, and she answered with a small, subtle smile before slipping away.

The city was nothing like she’d expected. Yes, there was a certain darkness to it, but it was also beautiful in its own strange way.

“Why are people scattering away?” She glanced over her shoulder at Azriel, who walked a few paces behind her.

He raised a brow. “Do you really need me to answer that?” His voice was dry, laced with faint amusement.

“Ah,” she mused, turning her gaze forward again. “So it is because of you…That is unfortunate. I won’t be able to have the full experience.”

“Trust me, you do not want that,” he said wryly, his shadows slithering behind him. “Besides, didn’t you hate our kind and prefer solitude over company?”

“True,” she admitted with a shrug. “But these are also the people that fought in the war with us. If I'm going to be here for the rest of my life, I might as well acquaint myself with the Court… all of it.”

“How very wise of you,” he teased, titling his head slightly.

“Although not as beautiful as Velaris, I like this place,” she remarked honestly, glancing around at the shadowed streets.

“You do?” Azriel looked at her, mildly surprised. “You might be the first person to say that.”

“We shouldn’t let the people influence how we feel about a certain place,” she replied, pausing a beat before adding, “If that were the case, I’d have found Velaris horrific.”

“What?” he asked, incredulous. “Why in Prythian would you even say that?”

“The company I keep in Velaris isn’t exactly the company I would’ve chosen. Some people are insufferable.”

“Ah,” he chuckled. “You’re talking about my friends again.”

“You asked.” She gave another casual shrug, unbothered.

“So, where to next?” His gaze drifted over the winding streets.

“I want to see the throne room.”

He paused. “Are you sure? That’s not a place you should visit without Rhys.”

She glanced at him, eyes glinting. “I have you. That’s enough.”

Azriel exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “It’s not about fighting, it’s… you don’t know how vile these people can be.”

“No, I don’t. But I want to see for myself.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw before he gave in. “Fine. But the moment you feel uncomfortable, say the word, and we’ll leave immediately.”

“Relax.” She huffed a small laugh, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I’m not some fragile little girl who can’t handle a few sharp words.”

—

This place was different from the city. No light could reach it, smothered by darkness, not the kind that whispered mystery or comfort, but the kind where all things withered and died. And yet, the people here did not seem to mind. Keir and his people were deep in their usual festivities: dancing, drinking, whoring. 

Azriel immediately regretted bringing Y/n here. Not just because of the debauchery, but because no female- no lady should have to witness this. Not when most of the females present were barely clothed, indulging in acts better kept behind closed doors.

“I understand now why you didn’t want me to come here,” Y/n murmured, clearing her throat as she took in the scene.

Azriel’s jaw tightened. “Shall we go?” he asked, already half-turned, wanting to get her out of there as soon as possible.

“No yet,” she said, stepping further in, her gaze scanning the crowd with calm curiosity.

His brows drew together as he fell into step beside her. “What exactly is your plan here, Y/n?” 

“I don’t have one,” she replied with a light shrug. “I just want to see. Explore.”

The orchestra’s music boomed through the space, lively and loud. The Fae who weren’t engaged in overtly sexual acts were dancing in a way that clearly suggested they would be soon. Azriel’s discomfort radiated off him in waves, though he did his best to mask it behind his usual stoicism. It wasn’t the scene that unsettled him, he’d seen far worse. It was the fact that she was here, beside him, taking it all in. 

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, anything, Keir spotted them.

“What business do you have here, Spymaster?” Keir called, his posture straightening with sudden alertness.

“I’m not here on any business,” Azriel replied coolly, eyes narrowing.

Keir’s mouth curled. “Pleasure then?” He let his gaze slide toward Y/n. “So you’ve come here to play with your little-”

“I’d advise you to remember whose presence you’re in,” Azrile cut in, his voice sharp as his blades. “I’d hate to see something happen to you for insulting our High Lady’s sister.” 

Before the tension could spiral further, Y/n quickly stepped forward. “What he means to say is that we’re here to explore the city,” she said smoothly, casting Azriel a quick, warning glance. “We want no trouble.”

Keir sneered at the Shadowsinger but didn’t push further. Azriel, in turn, looked ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

“Very well then,” Keir said, his voice slick with mockery. “But I can’t promise my lot will behave.”

“If anyone touches her or says the wrong thing, I’ll deal with them,” Azriel replied darkly, the threat humming beneath his words.

“If things escalate, it has nothing to do with me. Enjoy your stay, my Lady.” Keir offered a mocking bow before retreating.

Y/n leaned in, her voice just a whisper. “I can handle myself.”

Azriel’s eyes remained locked on Keir. “I know you can. That’s not the point.”

She quirked a brow. “Let me guess- this is about you males and your egos, asserting dominance?”

He exhaled through his nose, choosing not to dignify it with a response. “How long do you plan on staying here?” he asked instead, casting her a sidelong glance.

“If it bothers you so much, you can leave,” she replied, her chin lifting in challenge.

Azriel scoffed, “And leave you all alone to the wolves? I don’t think so.”

“Then you’ll just have to endure it.” Her voice was sweet, though the smile she gave him didn’t reach her eyes.

A servant approached with a carefully balanced tray of drinks. Y/n reached for a glass, but Azriel shot a glare so sharp, the server turned and practically fled. 

“The hell did you do that for?” she snapped, spinning to face him.

“You’re not to be near alcohol or any substances,” he replied, his tone flat. Final.

Y/n stared at him. And slowly, her expression shifted, realization dawning, hardening into something colder. “Ah, so that’s what this is all about,” she muttered. “You’re here to make sure I don’t indulge in any of my past habits. You could’ve just said that from the beginning instead of pretending you care.”

His jaw tensed. “I do care. Everyone does.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she hissed. “Half of your friends don’t even know me. Why would they care? And if you say your High Lord, I swear I’ll punch you. If he cares at all, it’s because Feyre ‘cares’.”

Azriel sighed deeply, visibly trying to keep his temper in check. “Are you going to keep arguing with me all night, or do you want to enjoy yourself?” His voice cooled. “Who knows when you’ll be allowed to leave the House again?”

Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Low blow, Shadowsinger.”

—

Some males tried to approach Y/n throughout the night, but each time, Azriel managed to scare them off, sometimes without saying a single word. A mere glance from him was enough to send most of them retreating. But eventually, one male who was either too brave or too drunk finally made it past Azriel’s silent warnings. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” the male asked, flashing a confident smile.

“No, you can’t. She’s being taken care of. You can run along now,” Azriel cut in sharply, stepping forward before Y/n could respond, his shadows curling around his shoulders like smoke.

Y/n shot him a glare, then turned to the male with a smile that was both charming and defiant. “Ignore him. If they serve non-alcoholic drinks, then sure, why not?” 

“Coming right up.” The male nodded with an eager grin.

Azriel didn’t even look at him when he spoke next, voice cool and lethal. “Think twice about returning here with a drink if you’d like to keep your hands.”

The male faltered mid-step, eyes darting between them, then wisely vanished into the crowd.

Y/n inhaled sharply, her jaw tightening. “How am I supposed to enjoy my night if you keep pushing everyone away?” She folded her arms tightly across her chest.

“Enjoying your night doesn’t require the company of the males here,” he said calmly, his eyes never leaving hers.

She scoffed, her tone clipped. “Maybe I want to enjoy the company of someone other than your lovely circle of friends.”

Azriel’s jaw flexed. “Your choice of company has already been proven reckless, so excuse me if I don’t trust your judgement.”

“You know what? Screw you,” Y/n snapped, spinning on her heel.

Before he could react, she disappeared into the crowd and grabbed the first male in her line of sight, dragging him onto the dance floor. Her body moved with practiced ease, hips swaying to the beat, but the smile she gave the male was tight, forced. Still, she danced, until scarred hands gripped her waist and yanked her back.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she shouted, twisting in his grip.

Azriel didn’t answer right away. His shadows had gathered around him like a living cloak. They pulsed with his temper as he stepped forward. They began to unfurl toward her, tendrils of darkness creeping along the floor. The music faltered and people nearby began to back away. Only the intoxicated remained, swaying obliviously as the rest cleared a wide circle around them. 

“What are you trying to accomplish, Y/n?” he asked, voice low but rough with emotion.

“You’re making a scene,” she hissed, eyes flashing. “Keep your shadows in check, they’re scaring people.”

“They should be scared,” he muttered, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” she shot back, the heat in her voice finally boiling over. “I came here to have a good time. to explore this place. But you're always there, on my heels, watching. I can’t take a step without you breathing down my neck. The second I smile at  someone or open my mouth, you’re already behind me, chasing them off. I can’t even breathe without you looming over me.”

Azriel’s mouth pressed into a grim line. “If these people were worth your time, I’d have no problem with it. But they’re not who you think they are.”

Her laugh was sharp and humorless. “Because you’re such a great judge of character”

His brow furrowed, caught off guard. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Just… how am I supposed to meet good people when I’m locked up all the time?” Her shoulders sagged with a weary sigh. “Listen, this is my one night of freedom, Shadowsinger. I need some space. A little room to breathe without you hovering and trying to ruin everything.” She looked up at him, voice softer now. “Just have some faith in me that I won’t do whatever it is you’re afraid I will.”

Azriel hesitated, shadows writhing silently around his boots. Then he gave a terse nod. “Fine. But we leave in one hour.”

“No. No conditions.” She shook her head slightly. “I asked you to come with me because I thought you’d feel better knowing I wasn’t alone. But I could’ve just as easily come alone without telling you or anyone else.” She stepped in closer, chin lifted. “So, do what you do best, Shadowsinger. Fade into the shadows. And when I’m done and ready, I’ll know where to find you.”

She was right. He had no real authority over her, no claim, no right. He was nothing to her and if she wanted to dance or sleep with someone, no one, not even him, had any say in it. It was her choice after all. 

Still, a small, bitter part of him hoped she wouldn't do it in front of him. 

As the night wore on, Azriel did as she asked. He remained in the corner, cloaked in shadows, eyes never straying far from her. She smiled easily, laughed even more. She looked light. Free. She danced with some girls, drifted between conversations with males and females alike, as if she hadn’t spent the past months buried in grief and isolation. 

At one point, a female whispered something in her ear that made her eyes spark, genuine joy radiating from her face. Azriel's chest ached. He wanted to know what the female had said to make her light up like that, to smile so brightly. Wanted it to be him. 

He truly did enjoy seeing her happy. But at the same time, it tore at something deep inside him that he wasn’t the one to bring her that joy. That being around him and his friends only seemed to stir her anger, bitterness, and misery. 

It was a strange contradiction, how much he loved seeing her like this, and how much it hurt that he wasn’t the cause.

After midnight, the orchestra shifted. The lively, pulsing tempo dulled into something slower. Melancholic. Strings, violin and cello, rose in a sorrowful harmony. The moment the opening melody played, Y/n’s expression changed. Her shoulders stiffened. Her smile vanished. She stood frozen for a heartbeat, then turned sharply and strode toward the exit.

Azriel followed shortly after.

She didn’t notice him at first. Her back was to him as she stood just beyond the threshold, half in shadow, half bathed in moonlight. One hand came up to swipe quickly at her cheek. From the looks of it, she was crying. 

He approached her slowly. He didn’t know if it was something someone had said, or the music, or something else entirely. 

Y/n never thought she’d hear that symphony again. Once, it had brought her joy. But now, all it did was stir painful memories she tried not to remember. 

“You left abruptly. Is everything alright?” he asked carefully, voice low so it wouldn’t startle her as he stepped closer.

“I’m perfectly fine,” she replied tightly, brushing away another tear with the back of her hand. Her posture was stiff, rigid, like holding herself together was a battle.

“That’s a lie,” he said softly, taking another step, shadows curling around his shoulders like concerned companions. 

“What do you want, Shadowsinger?” She didn’t bother turning to face him.

He hesitated. “What happened back there?”

“Nothing.” Another lie.

“You keep saying that, but I know something did. That piece-” he nodded toward the building behind them. “It triggered something, didn’t it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Her tone was sharper this time, but not angry. Just tired. 

“Why not?”

“Please,” she turned then, her eyes meeting his, glassy and guarded. “Just leave it be.” 

He held her gaze for a moment, then inclined his head. “Alright… then tell me something else.”

Her brow furrowed. “Like what?”

“Something about you.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of the request. “There’s nothing to know.” 

“There’s plenty,” he countered gently. “What do you like to do?”

A bitter snort escaped her. “You mean, other than getting high on whatever I can get my hands on, as you lot seem to think? Nothing.”

“That is not true,” he said firmly. “Before that. Before the war. Before all of it. When you were still-”

“Human?” she finished for him.

He nodded. 

She exhaled slowly, a pained smile flickering across her face. “I don’t remember the last person who asked me that.” Her fingers twisted together in front of her, a nervous habit. “I…used to like exploring new places.” 

“Used to?” he tilted his head. “Not anymore? Since I met you, you’ve explored three cities.”

She shook her head. “No. That’s different. I felt caged, and the cities offered a temporary sense of freedom. Getting to see their beauty was just a bonus.” Her voice grew quieter. “Exploring unknown places can be dangerous. You never know what’s lurking in the shadows… no offense.” 

“None taken.” A soft smile tugged at his lips. “I didn't think anything could scare you.”

“Even I have my fears. Shadows and danger don’t scare me. I just…” Her voice trailed off, eyes dropping to the ground as she sighed. “Let’s just say I learned my lesson the hard way.”

His expression darkened slightly. “Did something happen to you?” 

She didn’t answer right away. Her jaw tensed as she stared off toward a flickering streetlamp.“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said at last, almost in a whisper.

“Y/n, if something ha-”

“I like animals,” she cut in, louder than before, clearly steering the conversation away. “Aways found them more tolerable than humans or Fae.” 

He blinked, caught off guard again. “Animals?” he repeated, a small smile playing at his lips. “Is that why you once asked if I was like a bat?” 

She chuckled, the sound light but still fragile. “No, that was because of another obsession.” 

Azriel arched a brow, trying to hide his smile. “Ah. So you’re into vampires?”

“Shut up,” she muttered, but the faintest smile broke through.

“Oh, now that I know, I’m not letting this go,” he teased, nudging her mood with a hint of levity.

She didn’t reply, just turned her face away again, eyes fixed on the darkness. 

He noticed the shift in her mood and tried to gently draw her back. “So,” he asked softly, “what kind of animals do you prefer?”

“The wild ones,” she answered after a beat. “The ones with claws that can shred you to pieces.” 

Azriel let out a quiet huff, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “And that’s not dangerous?”

“It is.” She shrugged, her gaze distant, fixed on a memory only she could see. “But at least you know what to expect.” 

His brow rose, intrigued. “And have you ever faced one?”

She glanced at him sideways. “Once or twice.”

He studied her carefully, eyes narrowing. “And?” His arms folded across his chest, body angling toward her as if pressing her without moving a step closer.

Y/n offered a dry look, unbothered. “Well, I’m still here.” 

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “So I take it, it went well?”

She nodded, lips barely lifting. “Surprisingly, it did.” 

His curiosity deepened, as did his frustration. Getting information out of her felt more difficult than extracting confessions from prisoners under his knife. And he was a patient male- he was. But with her, the vague half-answers scraped at the edges of his control, simmering in his blood in a way few things ever did.

“So what was it? He asked, voice quieter, almost coaxing.

“A white bear,” she simply uttered. Her eyes didn’t meet his, deliberately so.

“A bear?” His brows shot up. “And it left you unscathed?” His voice pitched up slightly, shadows curling lazily behind him as if echoing his disbelief.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” She shrugged again, eyes flicking toward the night sky like the topic didn’t warrant further thought.

His expression said otherwise. “So what happened? Now I’m intrigued.”

“It was snowing, and I’d just gotten off work. I wanted to enjoy the snow, so I took the long way home.” 

“Let me guess, you took the dangerous road?” His brow lifted, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. 

“It wasn’t usually dangerous. Not really. But for some reason, I encountered that bear... It was rare to see any kind of animal there, let alone a white bear.”

Azriel crossed his arms more tightly, watching her closely. “So what did you do?”

“I stayed still, then took a few steps back very slowly.”

“Did it notice you?” His gaze stayed on her, paying attention to the details of her expression as she recalled.

“It did. But it didn’t attack. It came closer, sniffed me. And I could’ve sworn it looked right into my eyes, like it was trying to understand something, before it turned and vanished into the forest.”

He tilted his head slightly. “That’s unusual.”

“Well, I suppose it wasn’t hungry.” Her lips curved into a dry smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

He let out a low breath of amusement. “Any other encounters with dangerous animals?” 

Her mouth twitched, more memory than mirth. “I was bitten by a snake once.”

Azriel laughed, really laughed. Not the faint chuckle or soft exhale he usually allowed himself. A full, rich sound escaped his throat as he grinned at her.  “Did you wander in the forest a lot as a child?”

There was a pause before she answered. “I did.” A wistful smile softened her features.

“And I suppose it wasn’t venomous?” He leaned slightly to the side, the grin lingering.

“Oh, it was,” she replied dryly, the wistful smile turning soft. “It had  very potent venom. The healers told me I was lucky to survive, and I suppose I was.” 

His brows drew together. “And you kept going back into the woods after these encounters?” His voice had quieted again, his grin fading slowly.

“I did.” She nodded once, shoulders squaring.

“You weren’t scared you’d be attacked again?”

“No. That’s the way of nature. I was trespassing in their home. So if anything had happened to me, it would’ve been my fault.” 

Azriel studied her for a long moment before speaking again. “Ah. Taking responsibility from a young age.” His tone was light, almost teasing, but full of quiet admiration.

She gave a soft hum of agreement. “That I did.”

There it was again–that heavy silence.

Then Azriel broke it. “Have you ever encountered a bat before?” His tone turned playful, barely veiling the smile tugging at his lips.

That finally earned him a proper grin from her. “A couple of them, actually. They had these enormous wings. It was unnatural. Their bodies, though…” she trailed off, amusement dancing in her eyes, “were strange.” 

She turned her head to meet his gaze again, and for once, didn’t rush to look away.

“How so?” he asked, leaning in slightly, entertainment clear in his tone.

“They had these bodies, similar to humans… but weren’t.” She grinned again, enjoying herself now. 

“I see,” he played along. “And what did you do when you saw them?”

“I ignored them.” She gave a lazy shrug.

“Did they leave then?”

“No. They stayed. Slept in our house, even. On beds, can you believe it?” She tilted her head with mock seriousness, the corner of her mouth curling into a teasing smile.

That made him laugh again, his eyes crinkling at the corners, head tipping back just slightly. And this time she looked straight at him. Her eyes lit up with something he hadn’t seen in a long time. 

The sound of his laughter stirred something deep inside her again, something she’d buried after the war. That feeling of warmth. Of comfort. And something else…

For the briefest moment, something sparked between them. And then, just like that, she looked away too quickly. 

“It’s getting late. We should go back.” Her fingers curled inward at her sides.

There she went again, the instinctive pullback. 

The moment she caught herself enjoying his company, or letting herself feel too much, she shut it down. Always. And walked away.

Azriel had seen it too many times before, the way she fled from warmth like it burned her. Whenever he got too close, she’d pull back. Find an excuse. Leave. 

The second she realized she was having fun, or softening toward him, she put a stop to it.

And of course, he noticed. Every time. But he had not dared mention it. He couldn’t, not when finding reasons to be near her was already difficult enough.

If he brought it up, she’d shut him out completely. Ruthless as ever. 

It was easier for her to walk away than let him in.

Azriel didn’t respond at first. He just watched her, the shift in her tone, the subtle tension in her shoulders, the way her hands curled at her sides. The sudden retreat. 

It was her defense mechanism. Her way of stepping back from anything too real, too raw. 

And he knew it well.

He’d watched her do it countless times. And every time, he let her go. Not because he didn’t care, but because he was terrified that one wrong word, one wrong move, would send her walking away for good.

She’d act like none of this meant anything. Like none of it mattered. 

Like he didn’t.

And it would gut him.

So he said nothing. Just clenched his jaw and fell into step beside her as she raised those walls again.

Placid. Patient. Present

Even if she wouldn’t let him all the way in…he wasn’t going anywhere.