#azriel reader insert

A scent on the pillows lingered, a soothing cedar pulling an instinct to nestle further into them, your heart thrumming with aproval. 

Azriel. It was Azriel’s scent. 

A sigh of contempt left your lips, relishing the luxury of safety, of knowing where you were, of who you were too. Where one might think the Shadowsinger would dwell in darkness – but those wide cast windows, the cream-coloured sheer drapes dancing in the Velarian breeze that wrapped the House of Wind. This was your mates room. Your room too. 

A gasp escaped you, and you sat up so suddenly it made your head spin. A hand clutched at your chest, you were panting, eyes scanning the room, familiarity flooding you so intensely you temples throbbed. 

That trinket on the chest of drawers – gifted by one of you friends from Dawn. The book by the reading chair – Azriel’s latest indulgent read that he still hadn't finished. 

There were artworks, bottles of perfumery, drapes and clothes and scents swarming around you. Things you knew. Things you remembered. 

“Az!” you called, your voice breaking with hoarseness. “Az!”

Azriel didn't come, but when you yanked at the bond, you felt him jolt, panic coursing back to you at your urgency. 

Damn this, you thought, flinging the sheets off and scrambling to your feet. 

You didn't care that all you wore was a night robe, that your hair was a likely mess, or that you were weak from the length of your rest. You remembered him, damnit. You remembered who you were. 

Using the bond as a guide, your bare feet slapped on the marble floors as you raced to find your mate. 

You hosted atop the double staircase, overlooking as Azriel burst through the front doors, chest panting with the haste he made to reach you. 

Panic swarmed in those piercing hazel eyes. “My love, what-?”

But your feet were already moving, leaping two steps at a time before you flung yourself in your mates arms. 

You pressed your lips to his, kissing him deeply, forcing him against you as if trying to redact the months apart, binding him to you so you may never have to part again. 

Without question, strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you in, searing you to him. Your hands danced around each other, searching for new places to grope ands pull, limbs to latch and skin to kiss. 

Your tears had pressed to Azriel’s chiselled cheeks as you forced yourself just an inch away. 

“I remember.”

“You-you what?”

“I remember Az, all of it. You, our life together. The whole damn thing.”

The sob of relief that left your mate shook through your chest, and you felt his knees falter. Then he was buried in your neck, sobs muffled into your collarbone and scarred fingers latched through your hair. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry my love.”

“Shh, Azriel, shh.” You stroked that inky hair, soothing him as you both lowered to your knees, clinging to each other on the cold marble floor. 

“How? How is this possible?” Azriel’s voice broke as he sniffed, eyes shining as they danced between yours. 

You shook your head. “I’m not certain. I think when I killed Hybern - or my version of him-"

“You freed yourself from his conditioning,” Azriel nodded, bringing his hands to cup your face, kissing you over and over. 

“I thought I might never get you back,” he whispered over your lips, tears rolling with the anguish he had kept from you for so long. 

You stroked the hair from his eyes, a gentle finger tracing the wobble of his glistened lips. “I’m back my love. I will always come back to you.”

It was truly rough - the speed at which Azriel pulled you to his chest, and the tightness with which he held you to him. 

“I am never letting you go, my love. Not ever again.”

You laughed into his chest, swaying with him as he rocked you fiercely. “Be rational, Az,” you teased. “You’ll have to let me go sometime.”

Azriel hug tightened as he stubbornly shook his head into the nape of your neck. “Not. Ever.”

You chuckled again, knowing the path to returning to your work and life away from your mate would be a journey in itself. But you wouldn't ask Az to shed the possessive instinct of both an Illyrian and mate – not yet anyway. 

Because you’d never let go either, not of your bond, not of your love for him. 

You would always find a way back to each other, and no one could overwrite your story.

————

The gentle warmth of the April sun caressed your face as you reclined on the Townhouse balcony. You had taken it upon yourself to fill every inch of open space with a plethora of plants, each one showing off its first blossoms. Your prized purple hyacinths thrived and were now in full bloom, their fragrance filling the air.

The creak of the door handle alerted you to someone's approach, but you didn't bother turning around. At this early hour, there was only one possible person - Azriel, returning from his intense training session with Cassian. His strong hands landed on your shoulders in a comforting squeeze as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Good morning," he murmured against your hair.

You turned to face him, smiling up at him. "Morning!"

Azriel settled onto the chaise lounge beside yours, still dressed in his training leathers. His ebony curls were slicked back, held in place by beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. He stretched out his wings behind him, basking in the warm sunlight. With a slight lean, he unbuckled his shin pads and tossed them aside with a clatter. Then, he extended one arm towards you, silently asking for help removing his vambrace. As you carefully unlatched it, your fingers traced over the red marks left imprinted on his skin from the tight straps.

“You know, you probably don’t need to pull them that tight,” you remarked as you threw the leather straps onto the ground. Azriel flung his other arm over to you in response.

“I also don’t need them sliding down when Cassian is actively trying to stab me with a broadsword,” he quipped back with a playful smirk.

As the second piece came free in your hands, you scrunched your face in concentration and shrugged. With a clang, the brace fell to the ground as you leaned back in your chaise, closing your eyes to bask in the warm sun on your face. Azriel pulled back his arm, running his hands over the damp, sweaty skin that had been trapped by the armor. The two of you sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes before you broke it with a question.

“Good session?”

“It was fine,” Azriel responded nonchalantly.

“Anything worth noting?”

Azriel let out a slight chuckle before answering, “I’m probably going to have a nasty bruise on my back tomorrow. Cassian whacked me pretty hard with that practice sword.”

You turned your head to face him, one eye opening while the other stayed shut against the brightness of the sun. “Need me to take a look?”

Azriel shook his head, “Nothing to see. Just a red mark right now.”

“Did you hit him back?” You asked, turning back to soak up more rays.

“Oh yeah. He’ll have a bruise of his own. Probably a couple,” Azriel replied, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

“Well, as long as you evened the playing field,” you concluded with a smile.

The warm rays of the sun kissed your skin, drawing out a contented sigh from you. After a long and harsh winter, the people of Velaris were finally basking in the glorious sunlight. From balconies to parks to the sidewalks, everyone seemed to be seeking out its gentle embrace.

"Did you just get up?" Azriel's smooth voice interrupted your peaceful thoughts.

You shifted in your chair, feeling the ache from sitting in the same position for too long. "Probably an hour ago," you replied tiredly.

Azriel chuckled at your disheveled appearance. "An hour awake and still in your pajamas," he teased.

You shot him a glare, but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. The male was sprawled across the chaise like a lazy cat, his wings spread open behind him.

"I have nowhere to be," you retorted, turning back towards the sun.

"Laziness," Azriel playfully scolded.

"Hey now," you countered, "I see no reason to get dressed when there's no one to impress."

Azriel opened one eye and smirked at you. "You used to wear such beautiful dresses when we first got together."

"And you used to shower after training sessions before coming to see me," you reminded him with a laugh. "We've both gotten too comfortable with each other."

Azriel let out a deep chuckle from his chest. "You started it when you asked me to check on that red mark on your ass."

You scoffed, "Who else was I going to ask? You're down there often enough."

"Oh trust me," Azriel said with a sly grin, "your face-down-ass-up position is definitely a turn on for me. But when you asked me if the red dot on your butt looked infected and then made me touch it...well, let's just say I've never been more flaccid in my life."

Your eyes widened as you turned to face him. "You brought it up!" you accused, trying to imitate his deep voice. "You said, 'Hey, you have another nipple on your butt.'"

"I was just letting you know," Azriel defended himself with a chuckle. "It's not like you could see it!"

You couldn't hold back your laughter, the sound ringing out like music. "But seriously," you asked in sincerity, "did it go away?"

Azriel turned his head to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Let me see and I'll tell you," he replied with a wink.

"Oh," you raised an eyebrow, your voice taking on a playful tone, "so my body ailments are a turn on for you?"

"And just like that," Azriel sighed dramatically, "you ruined it." He leaned back and closed his eyes again, a smirk resting on his cheeks.

—

You stood in the elegant foyer of Whispering Haven, the first apartment complex you had built specifically for pleasure makers. The walls were adorned with parchment paper, filled with colorful scribbles and drawings from the children who called this place home. The front hall was a chaotic mess of abandoned toys, like a battlefield of stuffed animals and dolls. You smiled warmly as two little girls came bounding down the stairs on wooden stick horses, their laughter echoing through the space. Titania, the manager of Whispering Haven, called out to them with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Bryn and Oriel, when one of you comes tumbling down those stairs, don't come crying to me with those big tears! If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, don’t be running on those steps!"

You chuckled lightly at her words. She turned back to you, slightly out of breath as she pulled a pen out of her red bun.

"I swear those two will be the death of me. Alright, where were we?" She asked, glancing down at the book in your hands.

"So we have seven new applications for housing," you began, dragging your finger down the list. "Three of them are single mothers with young children, one is a single father with his son who just turned thirty, and the remaining three are single women."

"We ain't got the space to take on all four here right now," Titania sighed.

You furrowed your brow in thought. "Is anyone planning on moving out soon?"

She shrugged. "Meliora mentioned something about wanting to move into something more permanent on her own in the next few months, but she's been saying that since she got here."

"I could check in with Relon over at the other house," you suggested. "She might have availability to take on at least one or two."

"If the single females are willing to have roommates, I could take on two of them," Titania offered.

With a heavy sigh, you closed the book in your hands and slowly looked around the room. The realization that you had somehow made this place come to life hit you like a ton of bricks. "I'll make some inquiries," you murmured to

yourself, trying to center your thoughts. Suddenly, Titania's voice broke through your trance.

"How you doing doll?" she asked, her ruby red lips already stained with lipstick.

"What?" you replied, raising your eyebrows as you turned to face her.

She smirked at you, "I feel like I ain't seen you in a while."

You shrugged and let out a small laugh, "We see each other like three times a week."

"Yeah, but I mean actually talk to you. Not just about this stuff" She gestured to the room around you.

You smiled sheepishly at her, "I know, I know. I'm sorry."

Titania reached out and ran a bony hand down your arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's alright, love," she said kindly. "You have time for a cuppa?" Her eyes lit up with excitement at the thought.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. In reality, you had about seven other things on your to-do list for today, but Titania was right - you had been so caught up in everything that you hadn't made time to actually see her. You followed her down the hallway and past the stairs into the large industrial-sized kitchen. With fourteen females and two males with children, as well as two single males living under one roof, the kitchen had to be massive. As you walked in, you saw Bryn and Oriel perched under the kitchen table, their stick horses tied to the counter handle as if it were a hitching post. They were giggling and playing together happily. Titania's heels clicked against the floor as she made her way to the stove, flicking on the burner and placing a kettle on top. You reached up to grab two mismatched tea cups from the cupboard. Each one was donated from a different store or restaurant in the city, but somehow it all came together to create a charming and eclectic collection. After all, no one living in the house matched each other either.

With a surge of courage, Oriel emerged from under the table and scurried over to Titania, her tiny hands tugging on the silk of her dress. Titania turned to look at her with surprise. "May I be of assistance, ma'am?" She asked incredulously.

"Could I have a snack," Oriel whispered eagerly.

Titania's eyes widened in shock. "A snack?" She exclaimed loudly. "But didn't I just feed you and Bryn lunch not even an hour ago?"

Oriel giggled mischievously, her eyes sparkling. "Yes, but I'm hungry again."

"No, no ma'am, I didn't just feed you for my own enjoyment," Titania scolded gently. "I distinctly remember you saying that you were too full to finish your sprouts."

"But now I'm hungry again," Oriel insisted, swaying back and forth on her heels and toes.

Titania rolled her eyes and placed her red tipped hands on her hips. "What am I going to do with you?" She muttered in exasperation.

Oriel simply laughed as Bryn crawled out from under the table to join her friend. "Bryn wants some too," Oriel announced proudly.

You had heard about Bryn, the nearly forty-year-old child who had never spoken a word to anyone. Some said it was because she had learned to stay quiet when her mother was soliciting males. Others believed she just couldn’t speak at all. It broke your heart to think of such a shy and isolated soul trapped in her own mind. But Oriel seemed unfazed by it all - in fact, she talked enough for both herself and Bryn. And despite their differences, Oriel was fiercely protective of Bryn. You had seen on more than one occasion Oriel straddling a boy twice her size, tiny fists wailing down on them after they had been bullying Bryn.

"Of course she does" Titania replied, looking down at the two happy, albeit dirty, faces. She glanced between them before sighing and turning to the cabinet, retrieving two wafer cookies from a jar. "Now if I give you these, will you promise to eat all of your dinner tonight?" She held the treats just out of reach from their eager hands.

The two girls nodded eagerly, bouncing up on their toes.

"I mean it, Bryn. All of your beans," Titania warned sternly. Bryn nodded in agreement. "I don't want your mothers coming to me later saying you didn't finish your dinner."

The girls promised to remember and Titania handed over the cookies with a smile. They scampered off happily as Titania called after them, "And don't go telling any of the other children that I gave you snacks. I don't want to spend the rest of my day playing snack dispenser." But the girls were already out of earshot, giggling and sharing their treats. Titania let out an exasperated sigh, her vibrant eyes rolling as she deftly plucked a wafer cookie from the plate and popped it into her mouth. She turned to face you, gracefully sinking into the plush chair across the long dining room table. The fragrance of freshly brewed tea lingered in the air, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. Titania poured the steaming water into two waiting cups, the gentle clinking of porcelain filling the quiet room.

"So," she began, stirring a spoonful of sugar into her tea. "How have you been?"

You cradled your warm cup in your hands, letting the steam rise up and envelop your face. "Busy," you replied with a small smile. "But good."

Titania's warm smile mirrored yours as she took a sip from her cup. You couldn't help but marvel at how she never seemed to burn her tongue despite never waiting for her tea to cool. "And you and that guard?" she asked, raising a perfectly groomed brow.

With a roll of your eyes, you corrected her. "He's not a guard. He's the spymaster."

A mischievous glint appeared in Titania's eyes as she teased, "As long as he wears those tight pants, he can call himself whatever he wants."

You couldn't hold back a soft chuckle as you took a sip of your own drink. "He's very skilled at his job."

"I didn't ask about his skills," Titania clarified with an amused smirk. "I asked about the two of you. But if you want to share about the skills he has feel free." Titania winked at you.

Peering up at her through your lashes, you responded coyly, "We're doing well."

"How well?" Titania leaned an elbow on the table, resting her chin in her palm.

"Very well." You arched an eyebrow playfully.

Titania grinned at you and cocked her head. "And he takes good care of you?"

You couldn't help but smile at the thought of your partner. "Very much so."

"And do you feel safe?" Titania inquired, her tone soft and caring. "With him?"

You nodded emphatically, a sense of security washing over you. "Absolutely."

"I'm glad to hear that, my dear." Titania reached across the table and squeezed your hand affectionately.

“What about you?” You asked. “How are things?”

Titania scoffed and motioned around the room, “This is how things are.” You laughed lightly. “I have a roof over my head, a belly full of food and for the first time, no odd rashes in my nether regions.”

After you had opened the first apartment complex, you had offered Titania the position of manager in hopes of getting her out of Pleasure Making. It was clear that the physical toll of the business was taking its toll on her aging body. Although hesitant at first, she eventually accepted the offer and now managed the complex full-time. And now, seeing her in this new role, you couldn't help but feel proud of her.

“I’m glad,” you sighed contentedly, smiling at her.

Her gaze drifted up to your forehead and she clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “What about your mate?” she inquired, pointing to your head. “Still causing trouble?”

You looked upward as if searching for an answer within your own mind. “Not as much,” you admitted. “I think I’ve finally learned how to block him out or maybe he’s just getting quieter.” You shrugged. “Regardless, I’ll take it.”

“Good,” Titania nodded approvingly, leaning back into her chair. “I’m glad to hear that.” She fell silent for a moment before asking tentatively, “And what about finding him? Have there been any leads?”

You shook your head sadly. Azriel had done everything in his power to locate Caelum and bring him to justice for Kai's murder, but the elusive male seemed to have vanished without a trace. You could only hope that he was far away or suffering in some dark, lonely cavern. "

“I'm sorry,” Titania said with genuine sympathy, her expression hardening at the mention of Caelum.

You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to brush off the weight of the past. “It doesn't matter anymore,” you confessed. “I'm happy where I am now.”

Titania's smile softened into one of understanding. “The best revenge is not letting him affect you.”

“I don't even care about revenge,” you admitted, shaking your head as you stared into your steaming cup of tea. “I'm just grateful for where I am now.”

You couldn't bring yourself to tell Titania about Philip and the truth behind his identity. Part of you didn't want to know if she had been aware all along, and another part wanted to hold onto the blissful ignorance of pretending she didn't know. Perhaps one day, if the opportunity presented itself, you would ask her. But for now, it was enough to bask in the happiness of the present.

“Titania,” you continued, “can I ask you something?”

The female across from you peered up from her cup which she placed back onto the saucer with a clink. “Of course.” She said, but her tone was slightly incredulous.

You weren't sure where this question came from, but it tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop it

“If you could have done any other career, what would you have chosen?”

A faint furrow appeared between Titania's brows as she chuckled softly. The question was absurd, and you knew it. Titania had never had the luxury of considering other options for her life. Every day was a battle for survival, a constant struggle for safety. But now, in the presence of a strong woman who had overcome her circumstances and built a fulfilling life for herself, you couldn't help but wonder if she ever allowed herself to imagine the "what if's" of life. She sucked her teeth, her eyes not meeting yours. “I don’t know.” She said shrugging lightly, leaning back in her chair and crossing her bony arms.

You leaned forwards, “Anything, just if you could choose anything else."

Titania let out a sigh and gazed up at the ceiling as she considered your question. Did she envision herself in these alternate realities? Or did she simply imagine someone else living the life she wished she could have had? "My life wasn't unhappy," she offered finally, meeting your eyes again.

You were taken aback by her response and worried that you may have offended her. But before you could apologize, she raised a hand to stop you. "I had a very full life," she continued, reminiscing on all the experiences that made her life worth living. "I traveled, saw the world - or as much of it as I wanted to. I met wonderful fae, experienced life, ate good food, read good books."

You smiled at the contentment in her voice. Perhaps you had underestimated her struggle and discounted her as someone who was merely suffering through the world, not as someone who built herself around it.

"Life wasn't easy," she added with a hint of defiance in her tone, "and it certainly hasn't been handed to me. But if there was one thing I could have tried that I didn't get the chance to, I would have loved to be an actress." She nodded confidently, folding her hands in her lap.

You smiled lightly at her as she recounted everything that made her life so full. Perhaps you had discounted her as someone who was suffering.

“Life wasn’t easy. It certainly hasn’t been handed to me, and I don’t expect it to start being fair now.” She continued. “But I think if there was anything I could have tried that I didn’t get the chance to I would have loved to be an actress. “ She nodded, contently, her hands folding into her lap.

You tried to keep your jaw from falling to the floor. It made sense, with Titania’s eccentricities, her overall demeanor and command of a room. She was most certainly a personality fit for the stage. But to think of her, prancing around, wearing costumes and reciting lines someone else had written for her, you couldn't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide it behind your hand. But Titania's scowl made it clear that you hadn't done a very convincing job.

She shook her head and sighed exasperatedly. "Oh alright," she said with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "Go ahead and make fun of me."

Your laughter bubbled up again and you apologized through tears of mirth.

"It's okay," Titania dismissed your apologies with a wave of her hand, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I know what you see when you look at poor old washed up Titania – no way could she ever be an actress." She shook her head and chuckled softly.

You managed to calm yourself down enough to speak without wheezing from laughter. "No, no," you reassured her with a wide grin. "That's not what I meant at all." You stifled another round of giggles before continuing, "I just never would have expected you to say that."

Her eyes widened, “Well what did you expect?”

You also didn’t have an answer to that question, perhaps you should have had one ready before you asked her it, but any answer she might have given you seemed absurd. She was Titania, the enchantress of pleasure and desire. Her aura exuded confidence and power, and no one dared to argue with her. She was fully and unapologetically herself.

But you searched for a label that would encapsulate her essence - something professional, rewarding, poised. “I don’t know.” You shrugged, trying to come up with an answer on the spot. “Healer?”

Titania rolled her eyes at your suggestion. “Sure.” She said incredulously.

“I’m serious!” You insisted, determined to justify it. “You’re empathetic, kind, you care for people.”

“That could also fit into thirty other professions.” She raised a sharp brow in amusement at your attempts.

“I know, but…” You searched for a better description, your eyes darting around the sparsely decorated room. The soft glow of candlelight danced on the walls, casting shadows that seemed to mimic the ebb and flow of conversation. “You always made me feel safe.” Titania’s expression softened slightly, her gaze meeting yours with understanding.

Her presence alone was enough to calm your racing heart and ease your worries. It was as if she had a special power, a way of soothing even the most troubled souls. You couldn't help but admire her for it. "You always knew how to get children to settle," you continued, "ways to get them to understand without words."

Titania let out a small laugh and rolled her eyes, "Let’s be honest, at this point, you've raised more than enough children and fought through more than enough childhood illnesses," you joked, trying to lighten the mood. "You should have a healers degree by now."

Titania let out a small laugh and scoffed at you, but as she returned her gaze to you there was an unmistakable warmth behind it that made you feel at ease. She always had that way about her, making you feel like everything would be okay no matter what. “Losing you was one of the biggest heartbreaks I’d ever felt,” she said softly.

You tried to keep yourself from looking astonished. This sudden shift, this sudden flood of emotions from Titania was unusual for her, but you just held her gaze, silently urging her to continue.

“You were so full of life. Every day you woke up ready to take on the world and announced that you were going to be a force within it.” She chuckled lightly, shaking her head in amazement. “I’d never seen a child with so much to give.” She averted her gaze to the table, where her fingers traced patterns on the dark wood surface.

“I think that was because I had you.” You offered softly.

But Titania didn't look at you, simply shaking her head with a small smile. "No, that kind of spirit isn't something you learn," she said with certainty. "You came to me like that. Just full of reasons to live, even despite what you had been put through."

You couldn't help but smile at her words, your gaze following her fingers as they continued to trace the patterns on the table. “I wish I could have grown up with you,” you whispered softly, feeling a small fire of anger for not having had more time with her.

Titania lifted her eyes to you, a sorrowful expression etched on her face. The lines of her brow deepened as she gazed at you with a certain intensity. "I don't," she said softly, her voice unwavering.

You met her own gaze as she continued. “You deserved more than the life I could give you.”

You shook your head no, but as you did, one of those long bony hands reached out to you, grasping yours. “I wouldn’t have let you live the life your mother had. Or I had.” Her touch was surprisingly gentle as her thumb traced your hand lightly. “I think that if your mother had continued on the road she had, without taking you away, you would have seen things your tiny heart couldn’t have handled. I think…” she paused, “I think that it would have been selfish for me to make her stay knowing how it would have hurt you.” You felt a rock forming in your throat as she continued, shaking her head. “It broke my heart when you left, but I think your mother knew that there was nothing left for you here. Nothing that would help you.”

You shrugged, your voice breaking slightly as you filled in the pieces she was missing. “I don’t know if it was much better after she took me.” Titania’s eyes shifted to yours, “I don’t remember much after we left.” You shrugged, “Just bits and pieces with her. I remember a lot more from when I was living with you.” You wondered silently if it was because the child who lived those moments couldn’t handle the memories of what happened to her in those woods, in those early years when it was just your mother and you. Perhaps it was the only way to keep you from falling apart. Perhaps your mind kept you safe by forgetting.

“But I do remember her crying a lot. I remember when we finally made it to the little village we lived in she would just spend days in bed, just sobbing.” You continued, Titania’s hand squeezed yours.

“I guess that’s the withdrawals she was going through?” You shrugged, “But I just remember crawling into bed with her and just crying with her. For days and days. But at some point I stopped crying, and I would just lay there with her, listening.”

Titania’s fingers began running along your hand again, but your gaze was empty as you searched through the small memories you had. “I think that the other villagers that there was something wrong, but it was such an isolated community that most everyone just kept to themselves. They all had their own issues that no one had the time to come knocking on the door of a stranger.” You shook your head, “But one of the only clear memories I have was leaving the cabin after a few days, when we hard run out of food.” Your eyes narrowed as you tried to pull back those images, “I remember going into the woods and finding some berries to help the ache, but they must have been poisonous because I just got so sick afterwards. But I remember going to another cabin, when I got better, and knocking on the door. This other female opened it, looking exhausted and overwhelmed with five children surrounding her.”

You laughed lightly at the image of this tired, disheveled female, not much older than your mother swinging open the door. Her eyes purpled underneath as three small children played at her feet, one of them whining and barely hanging from the hem of her dress while and a baby strapped to her chest, also screaming.

"I must have looked close to death because she immediately brought me inside and sat me down.” You shook your head, brow furrowing as you dug deeper, “The cabin was so small. I think there was only one bed in the whole place.” You chuckled. “It was tiny, I mean tiny. Only one room which was just covered in clothing and dirty pans and pots. And the children, gods the children they just whined like they had limitless amounts of breath in their lungs.”

Titania laughed, “As they do.”

You continued on, “I remember she offered me a biscuit.” You nodded as the picture continued to paint itself, “Yeah, she did. And she kept having to swat away the other children who kept trying to take it from me.” Perhaps they were hungry too, you thought. “But I wouldn’t eat it in front of her. I just kept telling her I had to take it back to my mother.”

Titania’s focused was solely on you, even as a small child ran in through the back door, squealing and screaming, clanging pans together as they exited. It seemed as though her only world was you.

“I don’t know how it happened,” you continued, “But I remember taking the female to our cabin. And the other children came with. And I remember she brought a basket of some food. I can’t imagine she had much to spare though.” It was a small basket, you recalled, with barely more than some slices of hardened bread and a few pieces of jerky. “She told me to wait outside with her children who were only slightly more civilized than feral. And she gave us a biscuit to share, which the other children immediately stole and ate. But she went inside, and was in there for a while.” It felt like an eternity, but as a child, five minutes felt like hours so you weren’t fully sure how long the female was inside with your mother. “But when she came back out, she was holding my mother up by her arm.” You felt your eyes go glassy. “She looked so pale in the sunlight. And she was so skinny. And her eyes were just,” you own eyes widened, “just bloodshot.”

You felt Titania gulp.

“But the female looked at me and smiled and she told me everything was going to be okay now. She said that she was going to help us” You let out a breathy smile, shaking your head. “I don’t know what she said to mama. But she seemed to change after that. She still had her bad days, and I remember her just being more quickly angry, but she actually started living again.”

You paused, blinking, sifting through memories that had disappeared from you. Titania interrupted your thoughts, “Do you remember what happened to the female?”

You flicked your eyes up to her, “I know she came to the house once a week, with her flock of rowdy children in tow,” you laughed, Titania did as well, “And I guess she was checking to make sure we were both still alive.”

“Did you know her name?” Titania asked.

You pursed your lips, shaking your head, “No,” you said, your voice hollowed, “I don’t remember it.”

Looking back on the memory as an adult you were now aware how much that female had done for you, for your mother. In a world that had been so cruel to the both of you, this one female, with almost nothing of her own, shared her food, clothing, blankets with you. You recalled how in winters when it was even too cold for the small wood stove to warm your cabin, your mother and yourself would go to her cabin, crawl into that too small bed with her children and herself and sleep with each others body heat being the only warmth. And now you couldn’t remember her name, and that brought a pang of guilt through your stomach.

“When did your mother leave?” Titania asked.

You shook yourself from the feeling of sadness that wormed into your belly. “I wasn’t that old. Maybe a little over ninety?” You offered.

“So you were with Caelum and his family for a while then.” Titania stated more than asked.

You nodded. “His mother took me under her wing.” You shrugged. “Until Caelum and I secured the mating bond.” Those memories, that small happiness when you felt a sense of family felt poisoned by knowing what came next.

Titania smiled at you, with a sincerity that warmed your heart. “You are raised by the world, doll.”

You shook your head, “No, I’m raised by those who know The Mother is cruel, and decide to ignore her.”

Titania chuckled, “What does she know?” Titania teased, her hand gripping yours tightly, “She’s just some bitch who hasn’t seen the world.”

Putrid stale air rose from the island off the spring court coast. The Illyirans all glanced at each other nervously. 

The rebellion when Tamlin had found out about Nyx had been...subtle. He began with calling a meeting, the first in his court in several years. Where he then proceeded to inform the rest of the courts about Nyx and his paranoia of the night court wanting total control of Prythian.

 “No different than the king that the drunk hellcat slew.” He had grimaced, leaning back in his chair at the head of the table. Cassian tensed, jaw clenching at the mention of his mate. Rhys shot him a look that had his general stay in place. The  meeting would not last long if Tamlin made many more remarks like that.

“The king that you allied yourself with, Tam?” Lucien cut, crossing his arms over his chest. His metal eye clicked - narrowing at his once friend and ally. 

Tamlin bared his teeth, the rage plain on his face. Rhys had no idea how deep the rage and pain went however. He shuddered as he circled lower with his brothers. The smell was getting worse. Rage and love were blinding effects to the mind but...enough to..torture people? To what end? 

The shanties and tents among the dead island were somehow in worse condition than the Illyrian camps. And the bodies… Azriel felt his stomach churn at the sight of the malnourished figures laying among piles of blankets. 

Trying to stay warm from the cool sea air. Tamlin never spelled the area to withstand more intense weather conditions. He had wanted them to suffer. Cassian was scouting ahead for any survivors. Azriel and Rhys walked up the creaky wooden steps to the biggest cottage in the makeshift town.

 “Mother above…” Rhys breathed as the door swung open into darkness. Azriel was next to him in an instant, letting his shadows take him over the steps. Quiet as the wind. 

His heart fell out of his body at the sight before him. Scattered in the dark room were pieces of bodies, tattered linens and blood. Cauldron, blood was everywhere. But that wasn’t what knocked the air from his lungs. In the center of the room, supported only by spikes and spears was the body of a horned wolf. Golden fur turned a dark brown from crusted blood. 

Tamlin was dead. 

Rhys was backing up, knocking into Azriel’s shoulder. Shock weighed both of them, making them numb. Rhys kept backing, down the steps until he fell on his ass into the mud next to a pile of dirty blankets. 

“Rhys-” 

“No, I dont… No.” His hands combed through his hair, pulling slightly. 

Cassian arrived then, his face a bit pale. “What-” His eyes went blank for a moment and his jaw dropped. He ran to the cottage to check for himself. Rhys couldnt even speak to him. Azriel took a breath, cracked his knuckles and grabbed Rhys’ arm. 

“Go back to her. Tell Elain-Nesta, whoever to watch Nyx and tell Feyre. She needs to know.” Azriel forced his high lord to make eye contact. His eyes were muted, but he nodded numbly. Azriel turned to follow Cassian to the bloody room. His shadows whispered to him that Rhys had gone. He breathed easier knowing Rhys was at least listening.

“Az, you see this?” Cassian called. 

He approached the wolf body apprehensively. He had never liked Tamlin, not since what he did to his almost-mother. Rhys’ mother. His head was spinning with the politics of other courts learning that Spring was now barren of a high lord. He prayed to the Cauldron that none would find it suspicious that the night court had found Tamlin. 

Cassian was pointing to the shoulder of the beast. The brand almost looked like a stamp with how deep it cut. An image of a lit torch, blood dripping from the edges of it. He didnt know if the blood was the design or if it was from the wound. 

“That’s not an insignia i know.” Azriel murmured. 

“The queens maybe?” Cassian wiped his hands on his trousers, fingers lingering towards his dagger for safety. 

“I think I know someone who may be able to help.” Azriel sent out his shadows, searching as far as he could. He would find what kind of metal made this.

+

“It’s Torvakian. Not rare but uncommon even on the continent.” You explained, weighing the metal in your hands. Azriel had it brought to you by his dark shadows before he had even arrived. 

By the time he did you were able to glean a sample of the piece and compare it to ones similar. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means it’s from even further east than Rask. You’ll have to be more specific about what you’re asking.” You tossed the branding iron back to him. He wasn’t his normal… neutral self today. He was almost mad.

“Shouldnt you know this, being a spymaster and all?” You chided, turning from him and pulling another dark iron from the wall. It was similar to the piece he had brought you, but the forging was different. Like it was carved from an entire stone instead of being put together. 

He sighed and ignored you. “Do you know anything about the insignia? Are there other courts that this represents?” He was definitely in a  bad mood. You wished you could offer him a drink, but he had been non stop questioning the entire time. Really, Rhys should pay you as well. Being the go to mystery metal solver whenever any foreign courts tried attacking… it was job security you supposed. 

“I’ve never seen the insignia. Maybe you should go ask Clotho-” He cringed, his shadows gathering around his shoulders. “or maybe Gwyn, shadowsinger. She’s trained enough with the scholars to know” You clipped, knowing it would shake him. 

If he was going to be grumpy then you could be too. You knew about his late talks with the Valkyrie, yet he was always spending unnecessary amounts of time just around you. Joking, sharing lunch and stories from the continent. You had even roughly planned a ‘dream trip’ with him there. All theoretically, of course. 

His eyes smoldered, cheeks deepening in color. You felt yourself flush red and turned from him. Pretending to inspect a sword on the wall, you felt his presence shift. You knew where he would be before you turned. You swallowed. He was right beside you, not a word spoken.

“I dont want Gwyn-” He breathed, placing a scarred hand on your wrist gently. “I want you.”

He lowered your hand and his fingers slowly slid over the back of yours. The texture of his was interesting, firm but soft as well. His fingers interlaced with yours, as if asking permission. He was slow, so damned slow with this. As if you were going to run away.