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Chapter 4 - EDITED

Azriel x reader

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Summary: In the wake of the war 500 years ago, the last dragons died out after a catastrophic spell severed their connection to the Dragon Mother. Nim, last in the lineage of the fae bloodline that command the dragons, has been presumed dead for at least 200 years. As the elusive black dragon egg is expected to hatch in the coming months, Nim is thrust back into the world outside of her secluded cabin. She is forced to work alongside the Night Court’s Shadowsinger to hunt down the egg. She must ignore her frustrations and reservations about the Spy Master in order to keep her secrets safe from the rest of Prythian. Will she and Azriel be able to complete their search without turning on each other?

Word count: 4k

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The raging storm was almost silenced entirely inside the dimly lit cabin. The only sound that cut clearly through the silence was water droplets falling onto the wooden floor below the table you and the Shadowsinger sat at. And his deafening heartbeat in your ear creating a pounding headache that seemed to pulse with every beat. It had been centuries since you'd tapped into this power and exercised it on another.

You kept your eyes trained on the amber ones staring at you with a seething anger. A disgust at the dark magic now plaguing his body.

"Think before you speak." Your voice sounding completely foreign to your own ears.

It was the same cold, callus detachment that had embedded itself into every syllable you used to speak. When using your blood magic was a daily duty. But that's had been when you were still under Tilia's orders. A lifetime ago. You didn't dwell on how naturally the old habits had come back in a matter of seconds.

With a final breath in you released control over his mouth, letting the blood and muscles there return to him.

"You are the Blood Scholar then." His stated flatly. 

You didn't hide as your eyebrows rose in surprise. You hadn't expected even him to draw the connection so fast, not when the Blood Scholar hadn't been heard from in over a century.

The Blood Scholar. A Scholar of dark magic that had scoured Prythain and tortured, maimed and killed to try and find out information about the elusive black dragon egg. Using any means necessary to extract information from secret collectives, power hungry aristocrats and seedy individuals that had made attempts to obtain the elusive black dragon egg. A user of dark magic, blood magic that had long been banished and forgot by the world. It was not a titled you missed hearing. The Blood Scholar had been the only case of blood magic used in centuries inside of Prythian. Her swift disappearance was welcomed by the whole content.

"Clever Spymaster." You replied with a smile that was anything but friendly.

"You have reeked of deceit since I fished you out of that dump in Illyria." He hissed, it wasn't hard to hear the words he left unspoken.

'I should have left you there. Illyria is a dump even you do not deserve the privilege to rot in'

Instead of throwing insults he kept his gaze hard, but his mouth shut.

He wasn't as stupidly arrogant as he seemed, then. Smart enough to know when to bite his tongue.

"Did Tilia know her own daughter was the hand that spilt so much Prythian blood." He asked, distain and disgust dripping from every word.

You couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped you at his questions. The only time you had ever been of use to Tilia was after your father died. With her mate, the only person to truly love you like a daughter now out of the way, she was free to use you as she saw fit. Free to threaten to turn you over to whatever court wanted to burn you at the stake for being a blood witch first. So for the next hundred or so year you were to do her dirty work. Extract any information or leads about the dragon egg by any means necessary.

"Who do you think made me Spymaster. Or were you blind enough to believe that Tilia was always just a hop, skip and a jump away from the freshest body. She would have had me and everyone else on this continent killed if it meant finding that egg." You replied with no remorse.

Tilia was as brutal as the creatures she wielded. Obsessed with finding the last egg to continue the dragon bloodline so that it wouldn't end with Veikko. When she and Veikko never returned, you grieved your dragon friend for centuries. Still feeling the hole left for him in your heart. The last piece of your father and family that you had was now gone. But in all honesty all you felt was overwhelming relief knowing you never had to follow Tilia's orders again. You were free to be your own person. Free to never have to look another person in the eye again.

The Shadowsinger seemed to be assessing each and every word, every small twitch and facial expression. He could search all he wanted, but you had already told him all that he needed to know. He would find no lies. There was no point in hiding the truth anymore.

"So what is the plan now, Witch. Kill me?" he glared through dark lashes and ebony locks of damp hair.

You feigned contemplation, fingers tapping lightly against the wooden table. Dancing in the small puddle of water that had formed there. You pushed aside the discomfort of soaking attire and chilled skin.

"You aren't worth the trouble it'll bring." you stated looking down your nose at him. Letting your undermining of his power cause that anger to flair within him again. You weren't usually so petty and outright disrespectful, but the Spymaster seemed to crawl under every layer of careful detachment and indifference you maintained. It was childish, but seeing him so easily worked up, so opposed to the masterful nothingness that usually coated his features. It was entertaining to say the least. 

"But I can't have you running your mouth to anyone about my... situation."

"Then what." he questioned through gritted teeth.

It was a skill how much distain and rage he was able to expel with only control over his mouth.

"Don't be so sour Spymaster. I think we can agree to an arrangement that will benefit us both."

His silence was the only indication he was willing to hear you out.

"In exchange for your discretion about my magic and my past,  I will do as your High Lord asks and help the night court find the egg. And after the egg is found I will return to my current, unimportant life and you will never have to hear from me or the Blood Scholar again." You proposed, hoping that he couldn't hear your own pulse racing. If he refused the offer, only one of you would be leaving the cabin alive. You had no desire to find out which of you it would be.

The silence hung heavy in the air between the two of you. Constricting with every second as he watched with doubtful eyes.

"A bargain then." He finally answered, voice dark and smooth.

"Yes. A bargain." Your own voice low, as if the severity of the words wouldn't hit you so hard if it were quieter.

A bargain would mean that there was no way out of helping the Night Court find the last dragon egg. It would mean you were once again shackled to another. Forced to give up the freedom you had relished in the last century. But if you didn't make this bargain, you likely wouldn't have the chance to experience the snow crunching beneath your feet again.

"So be it." His words barely a whisper as they left his mouth.

The moment his sentence was finished the metallic tang of magic permeated the room. Dark ink stained the top of both your hands. Shadowy swirls twining together to form a circle. Each mirroring the size and placement of the red circles that sat on the underside of your hands. The same shadowy rings of ink lay atop the shadow singers hands. You had heard that bargains sealed with the night court were stamped by midnight ink, but to see it on your own skin was unnerving. A permanent reminder of your obligations to the other.

"Will you remove your cursed magic from my blood now." Azriel strained through gritted teeth. His attempt at speaking civilly was enough to have you believe he wouldn't immediately try to rip your head off. With a single flick of your wrist, you watched the shadow singer begin to settle back into his muscles and joints. Finally you let yourself slump back into the chair. The strain of keeping a hold on his blood for so long taking its toll.

"Tell Rhys I'll start my search in three days. I need some time to gather resources and take care of business." You gave a few flicks of the wrist to dismiss the Illyrian from your home. You weren't a fan of company, let alone someone you barely knew in your own quarters.

In your mind you were already compiling a list of tasks that would need to be done before the search began. But most importantly you had to make sure Sen knew you were safe, and you were desperate to know she was okay too. Gathering that since Po hadn't let you know of any incidents she was likely not in imminent danger. Getting out of these cold clothes could wait a few more minutes.

You quickly exited the dining room and made your way into the study that was an unsightly mess of books, ink and loose papers. Jars of herbs and various concoctions were the only items stacked somewhat neatly on shelves around the cramped room. With a quick summon sent to Po and a too short letter written to let Sen know you were home safe and would come see her tomorrow, you watch the small bird vanish into red smoke as he went to deliver the message.

To your dismay the Shadowsinger remained at your kitchen table. A stony look on his still damp face. You took a deep breath to collect and restrain your annoyance before speaking.

"I told you you're free to return to your Lord." As the words left your mouth there was a sharp knock at the door.

"I think you have a visitor." The Shadowsinger said with an ease that immediately had your mouth turn dry.

You tried to keep your hands from shaking, both from the frozen water still soaked into your clothing and the dread welling up in your throat. Your hand felt numb as it opened the door to Rhys looking too happy with himself, and a furrowed brow Feyre.

"What little games have you been playing with my Shadowsinger Nim." He said with a quirked smirk, eyeing your damp hair as he and his wife sauntered into your home.

Rhys gave his Spy master a wide grin as he sat in the chair beside him. Feyre choose to lean against the entry. Clearly much more alert than her devilish husband.

"Must be nice to have your pets just a thought away." The words were for Rhys, but your glare found its way to the raven haired man beside him.

"Usually, but considering his new ink his message was rather vague." 

"Well then you should know it's none of your business." You spat back with too much venom. Your anger was beginning to bubble to untrappable heights. The stupid Shadowsinger was now bound to you by magic, and the High Lord and Lady of the night court were now also in your previously undiscovered home.

Rhysand straightened in his chair at your tone, his features much more serious.

"You are my friend Nim. I understand that you value your privacy. You know I wouldn't intentionally cause harm to you." His eyes were sincere as he spoke but it did nothing to quell the raging waves of distrust that came over you.

"Oh come on Rhys, I know you sent your recruits looking for Tilias home after she died. We may be friends but everyone knows that means nothing in the face of your court. You would throw me to the lions if it meant you were one step closer to finding that damned egg." The words came from you without feeling behind them. You didn't let yourself feel the guilt as the words washed over the High Lord. His face flashed from hurt to stoic in the blink of an eye.

"Well Azriel assures me you'll be loyal to my court in order to keep whatever secrets you deem important enough to turn your back on your values for. So as soon as I have the egg you can return to your desolate life." Rhys said as he stood, picking pieces of lint from his jacket.

You kept your eyes trained on the window behind him as he and Feyre made their exit without another word. Your fingers tightened into fists as Azriel remained seated. His gaze unmoving from your face.

"Take your bat with you." You called harshly to the now disappearing High Lord and Lady.

"Not this time Nim. You have a secret dark you're willing to give up your freedom to protect. So I don't think it would be in my best interest to leave you unsupervised. You can either stay in the night court or you can take in a new room mate " Rhys's eyes were like stone as he watched you from the doorway. Their violet void of any warmth.

"What makes you think I have to listen to you. You have no power in this court." Raising your voice as you stormed towards him, face burning with anger as he tried to treat you like a prisoner in your own home.

"You can accept my condition or I can reach into that head of yours and find out what Azriel is unable to tell me." His facial expression remained unfazed as you stood inches from him. Your breath catching in your throat at his words.

He wouldn't really violate your mind like that, would he? You had known Rhys for centuries, and knew he had a moral sense about using his daemeti gifts without consent. But you also knew he was a High Lord with his family's safety at stake.

"You wouldn't." You tried to say the words with confidence, but the small tremble in your breath made it sound like a question.

"You want to keep secrets, then face the consequences of your actions." He said, a finality to his words that told you he absolutely would if it came to it.

"I'm not leaving." You said with your last thread of fight left.

"Then enjoy your new house guest." Rhys said, a sly smile return so his face as he gave a half assed wave to the Shadowsinger still seated at your table. Before you could slam the door in his face, Rhys and Feyre were gone in a mist of smoke.

Azriel's face gave nothing away. As if he wasn't slightly startled by the fact he'd be sharing a roof with you. Your skin was frozen from the storm but a wave of heat subsided the bite as your anger rose. With a powerful clap of your hands Luca was out.

"Watch him all night" you stormed through the kitchen. Luca gave a light chuff in response. You had expected her to growl at the Shadowsinger, but she didn't. Instead she simply wandered to the open fire pit in the middle of the house and plopped herself down by it's ever burning flames. She Cleary didn't think your new house guess to be such a nuisance as you did.

Quickly you entered your bedroom. Even with the thick wooden door and solid walls separating you at one end of the cabin from the kitchen at the other, you felt so out in the open. The walls might have been glass. And you knew the Shadowsinger couldn't see through walls, but what if he could?

Your breath was coming quicker by the second, your hands feeling like they were being pricked by tiny needles. Luca wasn't here to burry your face in, so you settled for the next best thing. You dove for one of the fluffy pillows of the bed. Letting the cool fabric embrace your face. Your body heavy against the mattress.

There was no chance of a restful night knowing there was an unwelcome guest in your home. Luca would alert you if he wandered from his sanctioned area of the kitchen. There was a spare bedroom within the cabin, but that was reserved for welcomed guest. Which included Sen, and pretty much nobody else.

You hadn't spared even a glance back at the Shadowsinger since setting Luca into action. One look at him and you were afraid you'd try to rip him limb from limb. 

So close, you had been so close to getting your life back.

Rolling onto your back, you held a hand up over your head. The black ink was so harsh against your pale skin. It looked out of place. Foreign and unnatural in comparison to the thin red lines that occupied skin on your palms, fingers and back. It was only when water droplets made their way off your fingertips that you were once again bought back to reality.

Your mind slipping back into motion as you made your way to the bathing chamber attached to your room. The smooth dark wooden features were an instant comfort. A fluffy towel would have to do for now. There was no chance your be stripping to bath while you felt like a hostage in your own house. It was just another chance to be left vulnerable. Quickly you peeled the soaking clothes from your body and allowed a moment of relief as soft fabric worked to rid the water. A change into some dry and warm trousers and sweater made you feel a little more sane.

If sleep would not come then you would get a head start on tomorrow's plans. Sluggishly pulling yourself from the bed and falling into the chair of the small desk that occupied the window of your room. The storm continued to pass over the beach your cabin sat on. The sound of rain hitting the roof soothing you, as your body began to regulate. You were finally home. It was a small victory you had to celebrate.

You cleared your mind and let habit overtake you. Every chore you'd missed over the last month would need to be accounted for. You'd need to check on every animal, check in with Sen and her family, and make sure everything would be taken care of during your stints of travel for the egg. So you began to write. You wrote every tiny last detail down until your hand cramped and the sun began to cast its yellow light over the glistening ocean. At some point the storm had passed and the waves had turned gentle.

Exhaustion was always present since returning from the Illyrian camps. Your body still hadn't fully recovered. It was weak. It would only improve with time and work. The blissful peace of watching the sun slowly rise was startlingly interrupted by a frantic knock at your front door.

Your letter to Sen had said you'd come to visit her. Had she come to see you instead? 

You quickly made your way out of the room, too frazzled by the sudden guest at your door to bother scrutinising the Shadowsinger who was still sat at your kitchen table. Both anxiety and excitement were bubbling up your chest. You were brimming with excited to finally see her after so long.

Swinging the door open in anticipation, you were shocked to see a man standing at your door rather than your cousin.

"Levi?" You questioned, stunned to see Sen's mate here without her.

His look of distress quickly changed to shock as his eyes flickered over your shoulder. The colour was draining from his already pale face at an alarming rate. You threw your head over your shoulder to spot what had him so spooked. You yourself let out a small shriek. The Shadowsinger was standing directly behind you, and you'd almost turned right into his chest.

"Could you not move around like some sort of ghoul!" You spat, lifting your head to look at the Shadowsinger's face. He looked unbothered by your words as he scrutinised Levi.

"What is an Illyrian doing here." Levi's voice was unsteady as he began to take slow steps back towards the edge of the porch.

"He's a colleague for now." You said curtly, growing frustrated at the lack of explanation for Levi's sudden presence.

You stepped outside onto the porch, slamming the door behind you to put a barrier between you two and the Illyrian. Quickly you wrapped you hand firmly around Levi's arm to anchor him to the porch. He looked ready to bolt.

"What's going on Levi, why are you here. Where's Sen." You whispered through gritted teeth. Sudden thoughts of Sen in trouble flooded your mind.

Levi kept his eyes trained on your now closed door. Even after giving his arm a squeeze he still refused to look at you.

"Sen's fine. But I needed to check it was safe for her to see you. And it's clearly not. You need to get away from that Illyrian right now." He babbled, his usual calm demeanour nowhere to be found. He's wasn't making any sense. Why would he be so started by the presence of an Illyrian, he'd never been scared by any kind of fae or fairy. You stood bewildered, before an unsettling thought had your body going ridged.

"Why should I not be around an Illyrian Levi." The question left your mouth in a icy tone as your grip on him released immediately.

His eyes were pleading as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. He tried to reach for your shoulders but you quickly took a step back to create distance. Your eyes were beginning to burn as he gave you a hopeless look.

"You have to understand Nim, they were going to hurt Sen and Lyla if I didn't tell them when you'd be near the village."

The question you'd been asking yourself over and over since you'd first been taken by the Illyrians to the war camps was finally answered. How could they have possibly known you were alive, let alone the one time per month you'd be in Scolva? Because one of the few people who knew told them. You'd been ratted out by family.

"Does Sen know?" You questioned, trying to stop the ache growing in your chest. Levi was someone you considered a friend, you'd considered him apart of your family the moment Sen had told you they were mates. You enjoyed his calming demeanour and his appreciation for fine craftsman ship. You'd helped him make a beautiful chain bracelet for Sen's birthday. You had loved how he'd always taken good care of your cousin. And how he always looked out his mother in law Lyla. You had spent holidays with him amongst your family. You'd grown to care for him like a brother.

"I told her you'd gone to your family's old home for a while. That you'd been to overwhelmed and wanted some time alone before the anniversary. She tried to go up to Tilia's old estate to see you but I stopped her. I knew you wouldn't want her to worry. You have to know I'd only ever do it to protect them, like you'd want Nim. I only did what I knew you'd want me to do. I'm so sorry Nim." He said through silent tears.

You wanted to hate him, to run to Sen and have him cast out as a traitor. But even though you could feel a part of your heart splinter, you knew he was right. You would have thrown him into a fiery pit if he'd ever let any harm find its way to Sen or Lyla. You would have told him to let the Illyrians know your exact local if it meant keeping your family safe.

You let yourself take a few steady breaths before straightening your spine and hardening you face.

"I'll come to see Sen this afternoon." You said, trying to stay level headed.

You turned your back on Levi, having nothing more to say to him. The wound he left on you was too fresh to face right now. So you entered your home again without looking back.

Chapter 3

Azriel x reader

Pervious Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: In the wake of the war 500 years ago, the last dragons died out after a catastrophic spell severed their connection to the Dragon Mother. Nim, last in the lineage of the fae bloodline that command the dragons, has been presumed dead for at least 200 years. As the elusive black dragon egg is expected to hatch in the coming months, Nim is thrust back into the world outside of her secluded cabin. She is forced to work alongside the Night Court’s Shadowsinger to hunt down the egg. She must ignore her frustrations and reservations about the Spy Master in order to keep her secrets safe from the rest of Prythian. Will she and Azriel be able to complete their search without turning on each other?

Word count: 5k

~~~~~

Rhys insisted you come to dine with him and his family tonight, as they were all supposedly desperate to get to know you. He really meant they were desperate to hear what you knew of the dragons.

This was an invitation for a business meeting, disguised as a social function. As everything he did, this move was carefully calculated. Asking you to a large social gathering knowing you hated them, where you'd be uncomfortable. To sit with his family, to hear them ask for your help as a 'friend', not a business partner. Perhaps he thought you'd be more likely to say yes than if it were a private meeting, with the added pressure of others.

None of it mattered. Your answer would remain the same, and you'd be gone before he could give you an ultimatum.

Fingers danced along your thighs as you nervously tapped them through the loose emerald gown that you'd found laid against the bed earlier. Counted your breathes in and out, you tried to steady them. Loud chattering and laughter of a considerably packed dinning room reached you before you turned the corner. You kept your feet moving before you could think long enough to turn around and lock yourself in the room.

Rosemary and lemon filled your senses as the lavish feast came into view, as well as eight bustling voices. You stood stiffly at the entrance unsure of were to sit. God, had you forgot how to act decently so easily? You knew 200 years alone would mean an adjustments to socialising, but this was just ridiculous. You felt like you'd been dropped in the middle of a party with customs and a language you didn't have an ease with anymore. Not that you had been a social butterfly before these centuries, but it hadn't felt this difficult in a long, long time.

Feyre, sat at the head of the table seemed to notice you first.

"Nim, Please come join us." She said with a smile designed to make her subjects swoon.

Rhys, sitting to her right gave you a warm smile. You didn't dwell on the happy couple long.

On Feyre's left, perhaps the most beautiful women you'd ever seen sat. Her lilac gown flattering all her soft features that had surely been sculpted by the mother herself. The Spymaster sat beside her. The contrast between the pair was jarring, his great black wings nestled in painfully close made her look like a princess with her ferocious guard. Amren's small frame beside him was sitting a good shoulder width away, seeming irked by the space he took up even when his wings were compressed. The Shadowsinger didn't falter a single movement as he continued to eat, ignoring your arrival entirely.

You took up the spare space beside Rhys, where Cassian and another female sat closer to Mor heading the other end of the table. The space left open purposely for Rhys to talk easily with you.

You'd rather be stuck between the Shadowsinger and the black haired viper at this point.

"Didn't feel like sticking around for a flight back down to the house?" Cassian teased as you tried not to feel like a child between the two hulking warriors.

You answered him with a tight lipped smile. Rhys shot him a look that had the long haired male turning his attention back to the women beside him. By the way he seemed to have a hand placed on her at all times, and there combined scent, you assumed she was his mate.

A plate was already packed with mouth watering meats and crisp roast vegetables, waiting for you to dig in. You tried not to let your eyes drift upwards to the Shadowsinegr, but it seemed to be out of your power. He was a looming threat that your instincts told you had to be assessed. His stoic features were less intense as he sat with his family. Certainly not relaxed now that you were across from him, but the predatory edge to his every move was dulled. His jaw still clenched but his shadows were nowhere to be seen. There was a lack of that animalistic stillness that he seemed to have leaking from him at all other times. The beautiful female beside him spoke softly to him and the High Lady.

Though she and the Shadowsinger didn't share the affection of Cassian and his Mate, there was a fondness in the glances she gave him. It was odd to imagine that he would be able to return such a normal gesture. It would perhaps have been amusing to see if it weren't for his attention focused on his plate, focused on you and your unwanted presence in front of him. You didn't have the nerve to look further than a fleeting glance at his hands, his knuckles almost white through those vicious scars as he continued to eat. His death grip on the utensils the only sign of his distain for the unwelcomed guests at his table. You would have apologised for the intrusion, but it was his own fault you were here in the first place.

An elegant hand gave his bicep a light squeeze to draw his attention to what the female beside him said. You tried to move my attention away from the pair as his eyes lost some of their Icey steel at the beautiful smile she gave him. Something about the sight made you feel nauseas. Even the ruthless and deadly Shadowsinger had someone to look at him with adoration. Someone who was likely happily there beside him as he slept. It made it hard to see him as a cold unfeeling enforcer of pain. And if he wasn't just a detached sadist, then it meant someone who had caused so much pain got to go back his happy family after what he'd done. If you were lucky, you'd get to go back to an empty house. When you had been the one carry out the dirty work of another hundreds of years ago, you returned to nothing but an empty home with your owns shame. Nobody to tell you there was something redeemable in you still. It was enough to have a stone cold rage web through you. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he was a cruel torturer with blood soaked hands and still got to come into this house and sit beside that lady that looked at him like he was as pure as her. Maybe you were just lonely and bitter, but the resentment you had for the Shadowsinger seemed to morph into something uglier by the second.

"Nim, these are my sisters Elain and Nesta." Feyre said, gesturing first to the female beside the Shadowsinger, then the one beside Cassian.

You gave each of them a small nod. Nesta's face was one of utter boredom as she regarded you, and Elian offered a charming smile.

"So Nim, what's it like in the mountains of the winter court? I've heard most perish if they attempt to scale them." Mor asked from across the table, cheeks rosy as she sipped from her full wine glass. You leashed all the hideous feelings that were spilling into you, giving Mor your attention instead. 

" It's an acquired taste up there." You said, trying to keep your voice steady.

The answer was true, but gave away nothing as to the exact location of the range Tilia, your Father and you had lived on. The location of your families old residence and your home were only known by your mothers sister and her family. Sen was the only one to actually visit, Lora and her husband hadn't been up there even when Tilia was alive.

"You must get bored shitless." Cassian said, digging into a chicken leg.

"My cousin visits. She works in Viviane and Kallias armed force, in charge for the animals. She sends the ones that require a longer rehabilitation up to me. The mountains provide all the space and immersion in their natural habitat that they need." you replied, the words coming slightly easier this time.

You didn't do much for the world but take up space in those mountains. The first decade after Tilia and Veikko passed you didn't leave the mountain at all. Sen was at a loss, watching you become more withdrawn as time went on. One day she showed up with a small fox, it had suffered a bad injury to the stomach and needed time to rest and recover. So she dumped the animal in your living room and left. You weren't sure if she was hoping you'd take care of the creature, or that you would be pissed off enough to winnow after her and leave the mountain.

For two weeks you foraged for the injured animal, and dug a small burrow for it by hand. For the first time in ten years you had some sort of purpose. Every few months she would return with another animal. Some would remain on the mountain range independent once they recovered, others returned back to Kallius and Viviane's legions. Sen had truly given you a reason to live when she bought that first white fox through your door. And now those animals were left alone without your assistance because you were stuck here instead. You'd prayed Sen had gone to your home after you had been abducted by an Illyrian's all those weeks ago.

"I didn't know you did that." Rhys said, genuine surprise lining his features.

You tried not to let that shock imply that he likely did think you'd been doing absolutely noting but wasting air for the last 200 years.

"I only started caring for the animals after my last visit here." you replied, trying to keep any emotion out of your voice. You didn't need to say it had only been after Veikko and Tilia had died that you'd started the role. That you had done it because your life ended with them, and you were left a to live amongst your families memories up in those mountains.

Silence filled the room, your words a clear and uncomfortable reminder about Tilia's and Veikko's unexpected passing, of you who most had believed to be dead up there.

Feyre broke the dense atmosphere, "My sister's and I have only been Fae for several years, we were completely unaware that dragons had inhabited these lands. They were more of a fairy tale in the human realm. How were they connected to your mother?"

Her words were warm and inviting, coaxing you to indulge her curiosity.

"Rhy's knew Tilia well, I'm sure he could give you a much better history of the creatures than I could." you replied quietly, turning your focus back to your plate. You didn't understand why they would ask you, Rhy's could give a rundown of their history in seconds through his Daemati gifts. It was unnecessary for you to do so. It was just another formality so that it seemed you'd been extended the grace of being asked about your life, rather than them having all been informed through whispers as you took up their guest room.

"I'd like to hear about it from you. It is not his story to tell"

Her words were clear as she held your gaze with determination. Sen had told you the tale of Feyre the Cursebreaker. You knew she had forged her own story. She was a human who had faced Amarantha and ended her reign. She more than others would feel people are owed their own voice. Something within your chests fractured at the way she seemed to truly feel it was your story to tell. That it had been your family who raised and wielded the dragons for millennia, therefore it wasn't for Rhys to share. Though you believed he would if you chose not to. So you straightened your back, and decided to honour the legacy of your family.

"Well, it is told that the dragons had been gifted to the lands of this continent by the mother herself. Unlike most creatures of the world, dragons do not predate the Fae. The first egg appeared after the Fae had overthrown the ancient beasts and gods that had once ruled. All those millennia ago, a young Fae girl had been wondering to far from home. She had strayed so far that the roots of the trees began to beat life into the earth beneath her. The rhythmic sound guided her through it's hypnotic song. She walked for days towards the heart of the pulsing world around. She was lead to the terrible mountain that sits in the centre of this land. And as her withering body carried her to its base, a small cave illuminated in a ethereal glow called to her. Inside sat an egg that almost stood as tall as the small child. As she placed her hand on the shell, so white that it was painful to behold, the egg began to crack. And out of it emerged the first dragon. The young girl reached for the dragon, and as its eye open to this new world, a thread of light extended between them. The white dragon had chosen Mara, to bind them together for the rest of their immortal lives. The bond between the Fae and creature a gift from the mother, to defend themselves against the power of the gods they had risen against should they return. It is one of the first tales of Fae forming a familiar bond with an animal."

Utter silence filled the room as you told the tale Tilia had told to you so many times before. It had been centuries since you'd heard it, but from the first time Tilia spoke it to you, it was forever anchored into your memory. The entire table, even the Shadowsinger, had halted there dinning to listen.

"The young dragon led Mara out of the treachery of the mountain, and flew her small body home. The white dragon served Mara, and as they both grew it lead her throughout the land to four other eggs. She cared for each one until they hatched, and their bond was formed. Ever since those first five eggs were found, the rest have ben laid by one of those five dragons, and the kin they bared. After Mara had her first daughter, the next egg to hatch revealed a dragon bonded to the daughter. And only that first hatchling since her daughters birth did so. It seemed the heir to the dragons was decided. When Mara passed, the bonds she had to all the other dragons were transferred to her daughter, and that is how the Dragon Mothers have emerged throughout Mara's bloodline ever since. It is rare that a dragon mother will witness an egg hatch more than a handful of times throughout their lives. The eggs take 700 years from being laid to hatching, and each dragon will likely only ever lay one or two eggs. Tilia was the last Dragon Mother, and since the only remaining dragon died along with her, the bond and the dragons ended that day 200 years ago."

The Shadowsinger seemed to have loosened his death grip on his utensils at some point, as his knuckles no longer held their taught white colour. Now that you had finished the tale, you were keenly aware that everyone at the table had their attention fixed on you. Their gaze grating against your skin, like the flesh was being peeled back to reveal every personal aspect of your life for them to see. You fisted the soft satin of your grown as you attempted to keep your face composed. Despite your best efforts, you could feel the heat spreading through your face as lowered it towards your plate. You hated this feeling, like the walls of the room were pushing in on you. Forcing each person in the room ever closer, suffocating you.

"Did you have a bond with the dragons?" Elian questioned, her voice gentle like a spring breeze.

"Veikko was a white dragon, he was bonded to me. He was the only dragon to hatch after the war 500 years ago. During the war the King of Hybern used the conflict to sweep into Prythian and cast a spell that served the bonds between my mother and the dragons. They were a threat to the other continents as they were native to Prythian. After that they all fell sick and passed over the next decade, seemingly unable to survive without the bond."

The pitying look she gave you told you enough about the sorrow that must wear on your features. Reaching into whatever discipline you had left, you let a neutral mask come to rest over your face. You couldn't risk seeming like you had any interest in looking for a chance to re-establish the dragons.

"I was born a hundred years after the war, and Veikko hatched when I was eight. After the egg had successfully hatched, Tilia spent the rest of her life searching for another. So that Veikko wouldn't be the last. But he was." you said the last part sternly, that was a truth that you had to hang on to. Wouldn't let yourself question it.

"Elain's vision proves there is another egg." The Shadowsinger said with that bored indifference that made you see red. He sat there and undermined Tilia's enter life to say their was one that she hadn't found. If the egg existed she would have found it. You went through hell searching for that egg, and spread hell across Prythian for it too. And She wouldn't have taken Veikko into the middle looking for it, only to never return.

"Then she is mistaken." you retorted, your teeth grinding against each other. Holding his stair you refused to back down now that you sat across from him. You were no longer a prisoner of that cell. He could try and intimidate you all he wanted, you would sooner die than bow to him again.

"Vision's do not make mistakes." he said, the muscle in his jaw flicking the only hint that he wasn't as indifferent to this conversation as he let on.

"I spent 200 years with Tilia searching for it. Even if it were real, if she couldn't find it nobody could."

Cassian shifted uncomfortably beside you, Elain's sweet expression souring with the tense male beside her. Your pulse was a relentless thumping in your ears as you held the Shadowsinger's unwavering gaze.

"Whether the egg is found or not is irrelevant, it will hatch soon and once it does whoever it finds first will capture it." The Shadowsinger said, his tone wavering with the anger bubbling under his skin.

"Then it will die." you spat back, any attempt to remain calm and collect washed away at the astonishing attitude of the Illyrian male.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath, waiting for either of you to snap and throw a blow across the table.

"Ever the diplomat Azriel." Rhys sighed.

The Shadowsinger finally drew his razor sharp gaze from your own to point his silent fury towards his High Lord. You gave yourself a small moment to let the satisfaction of his retreat wash over you, soothing the anger that had risen too high.

"Look Nim, my motive to get the egg is purely to ensure no one else can capture it for themselves. It is too great a danger to leave the creature in the hands of anyone else. We don't know what kind of magic someone might harness in attempts to conquer the dragon. If we are successful in finding the egg, I swear to leave the dragon in your care." Rhys kept his voice quiet and lower as if talking to a skittish animal.

"Then why not just look for it yourselves. I have no desire to waste my time hunting an imaginary egg." you said to the Lord beside you, meeting his squared shoulders. You held your chin high, refusing to let your resolve crumble.

"Because you have a better chance than anyone else of finding it. Nobody knows the dragons as well as you. Nobody else has access to the knowledge of the Dragon Mothers that preceded you." He said, his tone the most serious you had heard it.

You tried to ignore the prickling sensation running up your spine at the weight of everyone's eyes, of their impending impute on what you should do.

"My answer is no." your decision final. You were done indulging this conversation.

"I am grateful for your hospitality, and I wish you the best on your hunt for the egg. But I will be returning home tomorrow." you declared, leaving no room for negotiation.

"If that is your choice, then Cassian can take you down to the city tomorrow." Feyre said, the warm and welcoming tone replaced with that of a High Lady.

With the discussion ended, you excused yourself and retired to you chambers for the evening. Quickly you changed into a pair of thick black trousers and a heavy woolen sweater, making sure your boots were at the door and ready to lace on once Po arrived.

Rhys had always been pleasant, but when it was the security of his court on the line he could become the ruthless Lord that he portrayed to the rest of the world. You had no desire to wait around until morning and see if he would actually be accepting your answer.

Anxiously you paced as the hours rolled by. The moon seemed to rise at a tremendous slow place. As the moon finally signalled that it had been four hours since it had graced the sky, you slipped from your room and into the dimly lit hallways. Your head remained on a swivel, stopping at every corner to ensure nobody would be lurking beyond it. Rhys and Feyre had likely gone back to their own home, and you prayed to the mother than the others had made the most of the night down in Velaris.

You let yourself breathe again, making it to the passage way up to the training yard. After gently easing the door closed your feet were carrying you eagerly to the cool night air just within reach. The biting wind of the winter night had the adrenaline pumping through your body in an instant. Freedom was just a few hundred meters away, just beyond the wards of the house. The frozen air burning your lungs as you ran towards the small lake you had found just that day.

For the first time in weeks you felt like you were really back in control of your future. You wanted to scream with exhilaration into the night sky, but would wait until you were finally home before you let the joy erupt. The soft moonlight bounced off the frozen lake as you broke through the tree line. The sweet song of the small blue bird reached your ears before you saw Po. You could already picture your warm waiting bed and the welcoming scent of the ancient pine forest embracing you. 

Before you could spot Po's small pale blue wings a force that shook the mountain landed a few feet behind you. In the second it took for you to turn, you already knew what winged beast would stand before you. The large black wings reflected a silvery blue hue under the full moon. The Shadowsinger's presence managed to make the night air seem lukewarm compared to the deathly ice that laced his barren gaze. Your heart stilled at the sight of immortal male that seemed to be death incarnate. There was a promise in his predatory eyes as you stared back at him. He would hunt you down, like a rabbit running for the inevitable jaws of a blood hound. But you would run to the ends of the earth if you had too. You would not become a captive again.

The quiet whistle of Po soaring down told you he was inches away before his small claws settle on your shoulder. The Illyrian had a shadow spearing for you faster than you could track. Your body froze at the sight, but Po was already in action. The familiar red smoke enveloped you as Po had you winnowing back home. You almost let yourself breathe, until a distinct black shadow was worming its way into the red haze in the second it took for Po to have you falling through the void between realms. You tried to squirm away for the ebony shadows but it was hopeless, it had winnowed with you.

The sound of the crashing waves that sat sprawling several hundred meters from your cabin was muffled by the thunder that boomed over head. Heavy rain fall pelted down as you began running across the wet sand towards your cabin. Any relief of being home was stomped out as the small black shadow that had travelled with you grew into a black mass to let its master travel here. Your stomach turned as you realised the night court now had the location of your home. The one small part of the world that was completely yours.

You made the mistake of looking back as your boots hit the ground with such force that you toppled over. The sand was like stone beneath you, rattling your bones. You were a cornered animal as a set of liquid gold eyes bore into you, and the Shadowsinger emerged. You had to wipe the water from your eyes as the storm continued to rage, your clothes soaked through weighing you down as you scrambled to stand. But it was too late.

You watched death stalk towards you, the water dripping from his leathery wings as he stood against the howling winds. There was no way you were going to return to your quiet life. Not now that your one hideaway had been found.

'You have the power to stop him in his tracks. You could have him as a puppet at your disposal. All you have to do is tap into the gift you were blessed with.' A voice you wished you could shut out whispered to you as you tried to accept your fate.

You couldn't use that power to control someone again, didn't want to let yourself even think of it. The blood magic you had been given by Atakan was a vile dark magic that had been outlawed for centuries. It allowed one of his scholars the ability to take power from others, to control and kill any living thing with blood running through its veins. If you killed the Shadowsinger the High Lord would likely come for your head. If you did just enough to stop him then they'd know what you really were, and come for your head either way.

So you remained on the beach as the raging storm washed away any hope you had of returning to a hidden existence. The Shadowsinger stood over you, his dark hair falling in wet streams around his face.

"You cannot outrun me." His shouted words were still smothered by violent waves and thunder.

Digging your heals into the sand, you heaved yourself up to face him. Your rage envelope you as you shoved hard against his chest, but the wall of black leather didn't shuffle back a single step.

"Just fucking kill me then! I'm not going back!" you yelled as his face remained destitute.

"You are of no use dead." He replied, his hands wrapping around your biceps in a stern grip to stop your assault to his chest.

"You will help the night court find the egg. I will not let the safety of my court be put at stake because you are a brat that wants to hide from her responsibility." He snarled, his face inches away from your own.

The warmth of his raged breathing and his tightening grip anchored you back into your frozen bones. His words hit you hard, and your resolve melted away as you let two centuries of resentment and anger and grief lose on him. You didn't care if you were signing your death warrant anymore, you weren't going to let one more person control you. Tilia was gone and you'd been free of her iron grip ever since. You weren't going to kneel to a new master now.

He'd clearly written you off as nothing but a sulking girl who had only her leopard to defend her. Not even a single one of his siphons flickered when you hit him.

You let the terrible power that Atakan himself had bestowed upon you weave through your body. You pushed back the condescending smile of Tilia as the powers you had sworn to never touch again surged through you.

The Shadowsinger's eyes went wide as his muscles no long listened to him. That look of undiluted fear filled them as you mapped his muscles, his veins and his organs. You stared right back into his shocked eyes as you let your heart fall into rhythm with his own. Raising onto your toes, you let the terror of losing control of his body settle in.

"You have pushed me to this Shadowsinger." you whispered into his ear as you took full control of his every movement, his every breath.

Chapter 1

Azriel x reader

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Summary: Nim has been hiding deep within the winter court since the last dragon died a century ago. As the elusive black dragon egg is expected to hatch very soon, she is thrust into working along side the Shadowsinger of the Night Court.

Word count: 6.7k

Cross Posted on Ao3

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The metallic stench of blood and sweat seemed to seep into every corner of the Illyrian war camps. The damp walls of the tent no exception. The only thing worse than the smell was the unrelenting frozen wind that filled the small tent, the thin canvas no match against the elements. You were sure that you would die any day now. If not at an Illyrian blade, then to hypothermia.

It must have been weeks since you were taken, if the raw wrists beneath heavy magic repressing chains was any indication. In that time you had been dragged across endless kilometres of frost cover mud and rock over the Illyrian mountains. The exhaustion had set in three days ago, when your legs finally gave out. Even at the threats of a blade to the throat, your body no longer protested, it had given up. Three days in this damp cold tent with no food.

Despite the hunger, the solitude was welcomed. Perhaps they thought the isolation would make you nervous, antsy. But it was the one blessing you had been given all these weeks. It was familiar, the only semblance of home.

The only presence over these three days had been Luca, the aching in your palms a plea to be let out. That was the real torture of all this, knowing your familiar was trapped, unable to stretch her legs or feel the snow beneath her paws.

'Soon' you tried to sooth, even though you had been repeating the same thing over and over these past weeks.

The precious silence was broken as an Illyrian soldier stormed into the tent. He didn't utter a word as he yanked your bound wrist by a chain, hauling you no doubt to the commander. Panic started to wined its way around your throat. The commander had been growing angrier by the day, giving me deep cuts across the soles of your feet before packing the wounds with mud as a parting gift. Your shredded feet fumbled beneath you as you tried to keep up. Boney knees collided with stone hard mud as you were thrown into the tent. The commander already pacing forward before you could notice anything but the pain shooting through your weak legs and the throb of your feet.

He paced, inches from your kneeling form. He had grown impatient. He knew you had been leading him nowhere remotely useful over there trips from camp to camp, cave to cave.

He halted; your eyes glued to his filthy boots. You had wondered how long it would take him to realise you would never give him any real information about the possible whereabouts of the egg. You would die before you gave over even a sliver of remotely valuable information to the Illyrian's. After all they'd taken from you over only a few weeks, you'd lead them in circles for the rest of your life if you had to.

"You." The commander spat with venom.

Slowly, you schooled your expression into neutrality and vacancy as your eyes meet the raging ones above.

"Yes." you answered, trying to keep your voice from wavering.

"Do you take me for some kind of fool!" He bellowed as he gripped a handful of matted hair.

You were sure your scalp would rip clean off your skull. A muffled yell escaped, at the pain but mostly frustration finally escaping your hold. If only it would simply end. That the commander would be overcome with rage and kill you before he could order your continued torture. But in the back of your mind you heard that rational voice whisper. If you died, Luca would be released. And you couldn't stomach the thought of what they would do to her. How they would enslave or slowly kill her.

"You've been leading me in fucking circles!" He spat, landing a blow that came crashing into your cheekbone.

It was hard to hear as the commander continued to scream, the sharp pain spreading over your entire face, another blow landing square into your stomach. Bile made its way up your throat as the remaining content of your stomach emptied onto the floor.

You heaved, desperately trying to hold back sobs and keep at least a small pathetic piece of dignity. Bracing yourself, you readied for more pain. But the blows ceased, and silence fell over the tent. Two sets of footsteps made their way through the canvas flaps, stopping just inside.

The vice grip on your hair released, and the side of your already bruising face collided with the mud bellow.

"And who is your newest friend, Henry." A male voice called. The words casual, but his tone was laced with disapproval and annoyance. The way he addressed the commander told you enough to know the new male outranked him.

"What do you want." the commander demanded.

"I want to know why this girl is in chains." The new man said, slowly making his way to the side of the tent, looking over your slumped form.

"That's none of your business."

Consciousness was slipping further from your grasp. Your head was pounding and the dampness seemed to be penetrating through your skin to your very bones. Your palms were pulsing as Luca grew more and more distressed at your current state.

"When you've been so adamantly trying to hide her from us it is." A steady monotone voice said, the second intruder.

If there was anything left in your stomach, any strength left in your muscles, you were sure you would have vomited again. If higher ups of the Illyrian force where here, it surely wasn't to bring anything better than the torment Henry had been inflicting.

"She must be valuable." The first male mused.

Some sense of relief washed over you as you realised these new comers clearly didn't know who you were, why you were here. That was one slim advantage if you were again to be taken.

"I should thank you then Henry, for bring us something of use for once."

The amusement in his tone had the commander baring his teeth at the man, red rage threatening to burst from him.

"You go on Az, I'll clean up a few things here before I join you." The male said.

Before you could contemplate if being left here would be worse than being forced into a potentially more dangerous situation, you were swept up in two strong arms.

The feeling of being pressed against a hard chest had panic forcing your exhausted limbs to move. Hands bound, you thrashed your legs into the arms of the man carrying you. Every point of contact made you feel overwhelmingly claustrophobic. You finally lifted your head to view the stone faced Illyrian man that was beginning to walk away from the camp.

"Let me go!" you tried to scream, but the words were hoarse and barely audible.

Before you could fling yourself from his grasp, black waved of smoke enveloped you. And you were winnowed from the camp.

-

The world seemed to continue its spinning even as you were set down out of the male's grip. Blinking repeatedly, you tried to sharpen your vision as the room around slowly came into focus.

The small space was empty save for the rickety wooden chair you had been placed on, and a stool across from you that the Illyrian was perched upon. He was tall, his cropped dark hair tussled from the winds of the war camp. Clad in Illyrian fighting leathers, the seven blue siphons told you all you needed to know.

The man before you must be the High Lords Shadowsinger. His spymaster. Black tendrils of shadow moved lazily around his form. His large black wings held behind him. Golden hazel eyes where boring into your own, and despite the deep discomfort it sent through you, you refused to look away.

Silence fell across the room, both you and the Shadowsinger refusing to speak first. His sharp features made his vacant expression all the more intimidating.

But he didn't know your identity. If the Shadowsinger was aware, you would have been taken to the High Lord, Rhysand. Not to a cell. You tried to settle on which option was worse.

You didn't have it in yourself to get into the middle of this witch hunt for an egg that didn't even exist. You wouldn't put yourself through that again. Even if it was for an old friend. You couldn't.

So the cell it was.

After a tense minute of staring, you felt the sting of shame and frustration as you were the first to avert your eyes. You chose to stare at your left palm, focusing on the red ring that took up most of it. An identical tattoo sitting on your other. With your eyes you traced the ring, round and round, trying to steady your racing heart and centre yourself back into your body.

"What's your name." The Shadowsinger asked, but the flat tone made it feel like a demand.

You were given a chance to leave the war camps, and even though you was grateful to finally be out of the thundering wind, you weren't grateful enough to give up any bit of information that would reveal your identity. So you kept your mouth tightly shut.

"The commander often takes prisoners without just cause." He said next.

You knew what he was doing. Trying to get you to feel safe, to reveal that you was just an innocent girl wrongly taken. But you had a feeling he would know instantly if you were lying, so you said nothing. The magic restricting chains around you were enough of a giveaway that you weren't some unsuspecting victim of the commander's foul mood. You kept your gaze focused on your palm, refusing to let your body language reveal anything to the spymaster.

Silence blanketed the room, for several minutes there wasn't a single sound. You were almost tempted to lift your head, and see if the Shadowsinger was still across the room. Until you heard the unsheathing of a blade. Your breath caught in your throat.

"What is your name." He repeated again, voice slowly inching towards me.

There was a soft pattering of a few footsteps before two large black boots fell into your eyeline as you starred at the ground.

His voice was quiet, coming from where he towered over you. The command smooth as velvet and cold as death as it came from him.

"Look"

Every instinct in your body said obey. Obey or reap the consequences. But you kept your head down as tears threatened to fall from refusal to so much as blink.

Slowly, smoky black tendrils swam towards your feet. And the ice returned to your bones, frozen in fear as they travelled their way up.

"Look" he whispered in warning.

Your head still refused to move, out of determination or fright, you did not know. Shadows gentle made their way to your face. Like a snake one slithered it's way up and around your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The touch feather light as it slid under your chin. Anger flooded through you as his phantom touch along your skin continued painfully slow. The shadows following his command to take their time as the daunting helplessness overcame his victim. Your body refused to deny the shadows as they lifted your face, the sensation causing every hair on your body to raise.

Against your will, your head slid back to reveal the planes of your pale face to the man above. Satisfied, the shadows slid back to their master, the touch still burnt into your skin even as they left. You let all the rage and defiance show as you stare straight back into those amber eyes. They searched your face, as if trying to see where across the slight curves there, he would find your name hidden. You wanted to reach up and slap him if only to see if his face was capable to making even a slight expression.

"I'll ask one more time, what is your name." He whispered.

You tried to keep the defiance in your eyes, but as you noticed his wrist moving, you couldn't stop your eyes from flitting down. you couldn't pull your attention away from his slender sacred fingers as the gently twirled a glinting blade. You snapped your gaze back up to his and mustered all the courage you had left.

"Fuck. You." you gritted, preparing for the knife to make its way to your skin. If you were going to die down here, then at least Luca would have a chance to maul the Shadowsinger before he realised what was upon him.

And it was the first flicker of emotion in those eyes, the faint satisfaction that swam deep within, that you knew you had given him the answer he had wanted. You watched from your periphery as he slowly raised the lethal blade, racking his eyes over your body to find the perfect spot to lodge it.

The cold metal made contact with the sliver of exposed skin below the hem of your filthy top, inching tortuously slow from hip to hip. Your breath hitched, the sensation jolting you. The pressure was barely a graze as the metal traced the line that he would push down across to disembowel you. His eyes fixated on the red ring across your finger, and it was when the tip of razor sharp metal began to pierce the thin skin of your index finger that you knew this was the begin of a very painful end. His eyes found yours as the tip of the blade halted a few millimetres below your skin. You dug your fingernail into your opposite hand to stop yourself from screaming.

"Tell me your name." He said, but his eyes were lazer focused on the blood that was beading at the entry wound. He might as well have been hypnotised by the liquid.

You prepared yourself for the wounds that he would inflict that would likely make the nearly infected ones on your feet that Henry had given you look like child's play.

His stilled momentary, and drew the blade away.

"I'll give you some time to think about if keeping your mouth shut will really be worth losing a finger."

And with that he vanished, leaving you alone in the cell. It was a long while after he left before the tremors across your body stilled. A small tray with water, bread and some sort of broth had appeared in the corner. You looked the cell over, searching for anything that would help you escape. But the stone walls of the room were boxed off with a matching stone floor and roof. It was useless. You tried to lull yourself into sleep, letting the memories of the small arctic rabbits that were likely forming new burrows for the even colder season back home. You added finding some better quality hay for the white balls of fluff to your list of chores that would need urgent attendance once you were back home. But you likely wouldn't ever go back there. You hoped that once you died, Po would get the message to Sen and she could make sure someone took over your duties.

You hadn't noticed you were finally starting to doze off hours later until he appeared again. His eyes went straight to the untouched tray. The broth had smelt heavenly, and it took all your strength not to crawl over there an let it warm you from the inside out. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. You wouldn't let yourself rely on him. You were done letting yourself be abused and battered only to take any scrap from them like a god blessing it's subjects.

He stood against the wall across from you, only a few feet away considering the rooms small size. It was the stillness about him that was so unnerving. Henry had been barrelling every minute, no time to anticipate the next move because it was already upon you. But the Shadowsinger let you stew in the dreaded anticipation of what was to come. He was cruel in a different way, refined and thoughtful.

"Would you like to tell me your name yet?" He asked, voice reverberating off the walls around.

You kept your gaze on the floor trying to seem more interested in examining the cracks running through the dull stone.

"Maybe you can answer another question then."

He slowly stalked over again and sat back in his stool, closer this time. His knees almost brushing your own, you were surprised at the warmth radiating off of him. And for a split second you made the mistake of thinking he was just another being, nothing so different from yourself.

But he was different. Had been honed into pain embodied in male form. It seemed logical that those terribly scared hands now inflicted the kind of tortures pain they once received.

"Why the chains."

"To restrict power." you replied dryly.

He didn't seem too pleased that answer.

"What power" he said lower this time, leaning in close.

You begged your heart to slow its pace, scared that it would beat so fast it'd somehow kill you. This kind of fear he was able to instil in you wasn't like the kind Henry had. It was like one of those dark tendrils sliding through your chest to slowly constricting your heart till it popped. But you still kept your mouth shut.

When it was apparent you had no intention of answering him, he raised himself above you. The familiar hair raising sensation of those deadly shadows was slowly starting to encircle your ankles.

He moved to stand behind you, the ends of his massive wings just reaching the corner of your vision as they curved around you to accommodate themselves to the cramped room.

It was a hand gently falling onto your right shoulder that had your racing heart still. And from it smoky black began crawling up the side of your neck, angling your jaw to the side to give the male above better access. Your pulse was thrumming beneath your cheeks and temples as he drew down and closer to you. You felt the soft breath before you realised his face was right beside your own. The shadows that kept your neck angled in place were a static cold along your skin while the touch of his hand like a searing burn. You were defenceless to the panic surging through you, the faint sting of a blade at the base of your throat.

"This is where your jugular is located. And if I were to push a little further, I could leave you hear choking on your own blood until it covered every inch of your skin." He murmured against your ear.

And it was the almost sweet, quiet tone that he said those horrific words with that had a whimper finally breaking through your final walls. The only thing stopping you for outright shaking with it, was the dangerously close proximity of the blade to your artery. You could imagine that sticky hot liquid painting the room as it stained you red. Couldn't stop imagining it.

He removed the blade from its rest at your neck to drag the blunt edge down the centre of your shoulder and rest the tip piercing ever so slightly into the skin above your ribs.

"Or I could slide it through the thin layer of tissue protecting your ribs and scrape away at the bones until they themselves could be used to pierce you."

Mother above, was anything you had to give really worth all of this? It's all you could think as you choked back a sob.

"Or you could give me something." His breath caressing your ear, and the cold sting halted. Both his is large palms came up to anchored you to your chair. Pins and needle spread through your body as you felt yourself slowly loosing any control you had, your muscles were so tense they were dead weights.

"I'll take a name or the specifics for the chains." He asked, grip tightening ever so slightly to remind you of the consequences.

"I'm a summoner." you managed to get out between stuttering breaths, hot tears staining your cheeks.

You hadn't told Henry a single thing when he had you kept captive. But Henry was a brute, he didn't know how to work his victims up into a full mind and body panic response. The Shadowsinger did.

Your muscles seemed to give up and hunch over as the weigh of him left your shoulders. The wounds on your feet baring the weight that your muscles had been holding was only a dull pain, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. His presence still an uncomfortable pulsing behind you.

You had prayed it was enough to satisfy him without giving away everything. Summoners were uncommon, the trait only carried through a few dozen families. You had a finite amount of time before he narrowed it down to your mothers bloodline.

You were snapped away from your declining hope when the back of his scared hand grazed softly against your cheek. Some innate part of you begged to lean into the conservative touch, desperate for any sort of comfort and affirmation.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He said, voice the closest it had ever been to pleased, as if he had finally gotten a stubborn child's cooperation and was delivering a reward.

And then he was gone.

-

It was after a restless night of brief moments of sleep that he returned.

The small room instantly warmed at his presence, his large frame filling in the pockets of cool air that slipped through cracks in the stone. He seemed impossibly taller from your view, curled up in a corner to provide your body with some sense of security.

His gaze again slid over to the untouched food. It had been replenished with warm soup and fresh bread a few hours ago. You hadn't let yourself indulge in the tantalising meal. After the information you'd given up yesterday, you felt you didn't deserve it. You had failed yourself.

"You will die if you don't eat." He stated plainly, leaning his back into the far wall once more. His wings curling at the tips slightly as the sides of the room failed to accommodate them adequately.

The time left to stew in your frustration over the night had reinforced your will to not slip up again. You watched him as he assessed your form. You could practically see the cogs in his brain turning, trying to figure out the most effective and effortless way to temp you into revealing more.

His wings pulled back close behind him as he stalked over to you, like a cat getting ready to pounce on a cornered mouse. Your heart already in your throat at the sight of him crouching down to your level, his eyes predatory as they pierced through you. But it was the bluish circles beneath them that caught your attention. He clearly hadn't slept the night before.

"You are not an Ellen, Beckett, or a Verlice, and not a Haynes. So which summoner line to you hail from." He questioned, his voice lacking some of that controlled boredom it had previously had.

So he had been doing his research. You fought every instinct in your body that told you to look away as you held his stare. You could see the barely leashed frustration lurking behind those deceptively Fae looking eyes.

"Which Summoner bloodline are you from." He repeated.

Your breathing was becoming shallower as his inched closer, before a hand came to settle on one of your feet. A hoarse yelp escaped you as his thumb grazed the festering cut on the sole of your foot. Mustering all your strength, channelling all your anger, you flung the aching foot out into his chest.

That had been the wrong move. Air was struggling to enter your lungs before you knew what was happening, his movements carried out in the blink of an eye. Jagered stone crushed against your spine as he caged you into the corner. One hand holding his weight against the wall, the other wrapped around your neck.

"There are real threats I need to be dealing with right now, and the more time I have to waste on you is wearing my patience thin." He snarled.

Your anger was speaking before you could rope the words in, "Maybe you should look for a new job then, Spymaster."

The words were chocked out as you raised your chained wrists to claw at his tightening grip on your airways. If you were going to die you weren't going to lay down and take it without making it a hassle. Though you guessed the Illyrian could end this in a second if he grew tired of waiting.

He ripped a blade free from its home at his hip and pressed the hilt roughly into the wounds on your foot. Even as you screamed he didn't retreat, but didn't push in further. Just held the pressure as you dug your nails into the skin of the hand still squeezing your neck.

Without warning the cell was suffocated with a raw power emanating from behind the Shadowsinger's vicious features. And as soon as it entered the room and the Shadowsinger's blade stilled, you knew it was Rhys.

"Good to see you're not dead after all, Nim." He said, the smile practically dripping from his words.

The Shadowsinger retreated, fingers loosing from your throat and sheathing the dagger as he remarked his boss.

"Rhysand."you replied between gulping down air.

His amber eyes snapped to yours, and swore you saw anger flare for half a second in them as you answered Rhysand willingly.

"I'm afraid this one's a friend of mine Az, so I'll have to ask that you bring her to the house of wind instead of skinning her. Cass is already waiting."

And with that the Shadowsinger had a harsh grip on your arm and was winnowing you once again. Free falling for a few moments before he shot out his wings and glided towards a rapidly approaching balcony.

-

The house of wind was as you remembered, the lavish interiors a welcomed change of scenery.

You surveyed the room, taking in the four other Fae that lounged across the armchairs throughout the large office. Another longer haired Illyrian clad in fighting leathers, and seven red siphons. Likely the commander of the Illyrian's. A stunning blonde in a lavish crimson dress. A brown haired lady with a tattoo spread up her arm that suggested she was the recently crowned high lady of the night court. And Amren.

The Shadowsinger leaning against the wall near the doorway could easily have been mistakes for a statue at his unnatural stillness.

"Still prefer cinnamon tea?" Rhysand asked, a warm smile that suggested he was genuinely happy to see me.

You couldn't deny that after more than 200 years, you were glad to see him to. Rhysand had always been the only high lord you didn't dread to see when accompanying Tilia to their meetings. He had given her free reign to search the night court of any possible eggs that had been laid and undiscovered.

"I prefer not to be in chains." you said, trying not to be overcome by embarrassment at your filthy dirt covered state.

Rhys sent an apologetic look, and at the snap of his fingers, the layers of grime on your clothes and skin disappear. Your white hair finally smooth, falling over your shoulders and free from knots. And then the cuffs fell.

As soon as they hit the ground your palms warmed and light flashed from the red rings. Luca was roaring as she charged straight of the Shadowsinger. Never had she released herself without your permission. But after weeks of being trapped by those cuffs, and being forced to know your suffering, she disobeyed.

The leopard was a running flame of gold light as she lunged for the Shadowsinger. His shadows seemed to react before he could, spiralling for Luca. She thrashed as they wound around her paws and anchored her to the floor, her light battling them to released her. As her light cut through the shadows the Shadowsinger grunted in pain, and sent a shadow wrapping around her neck to retaliate. Rage encompassed you at the sight.

"Don't you dare touch her!" panic overtaking you as her light died down, and the fur of the snow leopard revealed itself.

With a clap of your hand together, trying to summon her back and out of the shadows grip, but failed. You panic was snowballing, the shadowy tendrils still holding her as she yelped.

That had never happened.

Not once had you summoned her back and failed to return her to the red tattoos. You readied to lunge at the Shadowsinger who was panting as he recovered from the pain Luca's light had inflicted on his shadows. But the other Illyrian had come up behind you, his arms a vice grip as he clasped your arms to your side.

"Azriel stop." Rhys growled, the command in his voice making you recoil.

And then the shadows where unfurling and leaching back to Azriel side, curling around his ear to whisper to him. Luca remained before him, snarling and snapping her teeth. You relaxed your breathing and stilled in the Illyrian's arms, and once he deemed you wouldn't attack Azriel, released his grip.

"Luca come." you called to her softly, and reluctantly she began to back away.

With how fast her light had diminished she must be significantly weakened. Through the bond that connected you, your malnourishment and physical injury had taken a toll on her too.

It's okay, I'm okay. Whispering down the bond, you tried to sooth the snow leopard. Finally she turned and came padding over. Her large blue eyes meeting yours, you smiled fondly running a hand through her fur for the first time in weeks. If it weren't for the other's presence you would have broken down into tears and wept as you pat her gentle fur. The heartache of not seeing her for three weeks was raw.

"Well that was entertaining." The Illyrian behind you murmured.

He stepped around you to come face to face, all be it a good few steps away as Luca began to softly growl at him.

"Sorry for the man handling." he smiled before making his way over to the Shadowsinger.

Amren sat in the corner, smiling smugly at the incident, before giving you an assessing look. Amren had been the only one of Rhysands inner circle that you had personally met before today. She had taken a keen interest in the dragons when they still roamed and had even aided in Tilia's search for any remaining eggs. You wouldn't go as far to say you were friendly, but perhaps professional acquaintances.

"Let me introduce you to Mor, and Feyre." Rhysand gestured respectively to the women who both gave a civil nod.

"And your brothers Azriel and Cassian." He gestured to the Illyrians, Cassian smiling as Azriel glowered.

"Why don't you give Nim and I a minute." Rhys said to no one in particular. You watched as the room emptied, returning Azriel simmering gaze as he was the last to vacate the room.

-

Sitting across from Rhysand behind his large oak desk, you were finally able to try and loosen the tension in your shoulders and relax into the plush chair.

"I'm sorry about that. I know you're not fond of... gatherings." He said, pushing a cup of tea towards you.

Not fond of being around others, especially strangers he meant. But was too polite to put it plainly. Being raised in the isolated winter court mountains with only Tilia, your father, and the animal inhabitants had made being around anymore than a few farmiliar faces seem dreadful. Most ventures away from the mountain had been to attend to business, but after Veikko died 200 years ago, leaving the snowy hills for business was unnecessary. And the few times you saw Sen through the year, she often came to the winter mountains, enjoying the family's of Arctic animals you tended to.

"It's fine."

Rhysand had been one of the few people you had considered a friend throughout your life, so to see him again under these circumstances was bitter sweet. Luca was already rubbing against his chair, pawing at him in demand of head scratches. The leopard had always been fond the the High Lord.

"It's good to see you too Luca." He coed to the needy leopard.

Traitor, you sent down the bond to her, to which she simple purred at Rhy's touch, uncaring of what you had to say about it.

"It would have been nice to hear from you. I really did think you'd died up in those mounts after Veikko passed." He said, a regretful look across his face.

"Would have been nice for you to come and check." You answered too tired to really care if the words hurt him. Both knowing even if he had tried to come, he wouldn't have found the cabin. Tilia had ensured the wards kept it hidden from everyone, even the high lords.

"But now that you are here, you know what I have to ask of you." He winced at his own words, straight down to business.

"You know I have to refuse." you replied.

Rhys seemed to mull over what to say next as he soothingly ran a hand through Luca's fur.

"I'm sorry about Henry. If I had have known I would of come right away. But if they are looking for the egg then I'm sure others are too." He said, a hint of urgency in his voice.

"The egg doesn't exist." you said with more force than intended. Luca returning to rest her head on your lap at the sense of your unease.

Rumours had spread that the black dragon had laid an egg. But it was simply a fools dream. An old myth. Tilia had been searching for the egg since the black dragon had gone into a year long hibernation 700 years ago, and had up until the day she and Veikko were killed. If it where to exist, she would have it.

"If it existed Tilia would have found it."

It was hard not to get defensive. After the last dragon bound to your mother died 100 years after the war, she had searched endlessly to give Veikko a chance. Devoted the last 200 years of her life to looking for that egg.

"Nim, I want to show you something."

"Then show me." you said, already bracing for him to enter your mind.

And then he was in your mind, showing me a memory. The image was there for a flash and then it was gone, and Rhys had receded. A black egg, nestled into a bed of labradorite stones. The glow of the stones the only thing that illuminated the shape of the egg.

"A vision my Seer had two days ago." He said, his voice hushed.

Your mind was wiped clean, and all you could hear was the thumping of your heart in your chest. And in that moment, all the aching and throbbing over your bruised and battered body seemed to fade against the shock of the image.

No.

It wasn't possible.

"Their wrong." Was all you could manage.

He simply watched you, pity in his eyes as your mind tried to digest the information. You wanted to flee, to return to your cabin in the snow and lock the door and leave the key to melt in the fireplace.

"I need to go home."

Yes, home. You needed to go home. You could run a bath and soak your infected feet in the healing salts Sen had left her last visit. And the animals will be growing uneasy at your unusually long absence. You had to go home to the cabin.

"I know it's a lot to take in." Rhys said, speaking softly, afraid you would run like a spooked animal at the wrong words.

You couldn't listen to him talk anymore. All the noise was unbearable. You couldn't stand to hear another word.

You focused on the small red band that ran around your right index finger, and called for Po. And even as the tattoo momentary flashed, letting you know he had heard your request, the small blue bird didn't appear. If Luca was so weakened by your physical state, then it was unlikely Po hadn't the reserves to winnow either.

"Rhys take me home." you pleaded.

You were trapped without Po to winnow you home, unable to do so yourself. You missed seeing the foxes play, missed the small pond beside the cabin that the koi inhabited. You missed watching the owls nestling up together on the tree branches.

The office walls felt like they were closing in, and the whispered voices coming from the living room seemed to grow louder and louder. You needed to get away from here, from these people.

"If you can walk yourself out of this room, I'll take you home." He said, making a point to analyse your bruised and sickly complexion.

Fine. You had endured this much. You could endure a little longer.

Your feet roared under you as they made contact with the plush carpet. Pushing yourself up and putting your entire weigh onto them, white spots darted their way around your vision, your body screaming at you to stop. Even Luca pushed her wet nose against your leg, softly trying to tell you to sit back down. Your whole body was shaking with the effort it took to drag your aching limbs a few measly steps.

Four steps was as far as you made it before a pained screech was ripped from your throat and your muscles gave in. Luca worked her way under your arm, softly whining as she tried to hold you up. You weren't getting out of this room. Seeing those dazzling blue eyes watching you with so much worry was enough.

"Fine." you said, defeated.

Rhys was instantly crouched down beside you, signalling the person waiting just outside the open doorway to come in.

"Just stay a few days at least. Let your wounds heal."

He must have been speaking with his mate as you had been pathetically dragging mud and blood across their carpet trying to prove yourself. Luca stood defensively in front of you as Feyre slowly approached.

"It's okay Luca." you said to her, your breathing raged from using up the last of your energy.

After she and Rhys exchanged a glance, Feyre carefully held her wrist out for Luca to sniff. Rhys must be instructions her on how to approach without upsetting the snow leopard. A small smile spread across her face as Luca seemed to pick up on her and Rhy's mixed scent, giving her enough reassurance that Feyre wasn't a threat to you.

"You're a very pretty girl aren't you." She cooed to the leopard as it brushed up against her legs.

While you might have enjoyed the solitude of the mountains, Luca was ever the socialite.

"It's nice to meet you Nim." Feyre's smile warm and welcoming as her and Rhys put each of your arms around their shoulders to help you to your feet. You did your best to return the smile but couldn't force it to reach your eyes.

Luca trailed behind as they helped you towards a guest room. A large bed with cream sheets and pillows piled atop sat against the far wall with a small stone top side table. A wooden desk to the left, holding a few lit candles. Next to it an amour. And to the right was a large window, taking up the entirety of the wall. The powdery snowfall making its way to the rooftops of the city bellow gave a small feeling of familiarity spark in your chest.

"There's a bathroom through there." Feyre pointed to the open door on the far wall as she and Rhys deposited you onto the side of the bed.

"I'll call for the healer to come as soon as she can." Rhys said before he and his mate made their way out to leaving you to rest.

Once the door closed you let yourself lie back into the soft mattress savouring the heavenly feeling. The pillow behind your head like a cloud sent from heaven.

"Come Luca"

She jumped up beside you, curling up against your shivering form. Slinging an arm over her, you let yourself relax as you breathed in her scent. Finally you let tears fall, burying your face into her fur. She was the only company that had always been by your side over the last two hundred years. Your closest friend.

"I missed you so much." you whispered to her, and she nuzzled her face in reply.