#devlon x oc

I grasped his hand. Warm and slightly callused, just like I remembered. Devlon pulled me up, brushing his thumb over my palm before dropping my hand. I gestured to the couches as Devlon closed the door, following me into the house. I settled down with Cyrus next to me. “What’s up,” I asked. My brain was spinning thinking of all the reasons he could be here. Another attack by Alistair. Something happened to Clio. Rhysand butting his big head in.

Devlon’s voice pierced through the thoughts, “I thought maybe, after Velaris, you could use a cuddle.” Devlon rubbed the back of his neck. “With Cyrus of course.”

As if he knew he was there for cuddles, Cyrus flopped his head into my lap and rolled over for belly rubs, which I happily gave him. For awhile, we sat there in silence while I cuddled Cyrus.

Devlon lightly cleared his throat, bringing my attention back to him. “Can I ask how it went?” I nodded and recounted the past couple days. The thumping of Cyrus’ tail kept me grounded, unable to dwell on my fight with Rhysand. 

Devlon looked concerned when I finished telling him about my meeting with Rhysand. I wasn’t expecting where his concern was placed though. “Are you ok,” his asked, his voice gentle. My head snapped up at his question. Of all the things I thought he would ask once I finished, ‘are you ok’ was what I least expected. He leaned forward like he was ready to leap across the room if necessary.  Cyrus whined, shoving his giant head into my hands, demanding I resume petting him. 

I looked down finding Cyrus’ tongue lolling out of his mouth. I ran my hand over the soft, tan fur  on his neck. He turned his head and gently licked the inside of my wrist as his tail thumped against the couch. I heard a rustle from the other side of room and then warmth on my knee. “Mira,” Devlon whispered softly. I followed his hand up to meet his eyes. They pleaded with me to say something, anything. 

“I—,” my voice cracked. He brushed his thumb soothingly against my knee. I took a deep breath and said, “I don’t know.” He nodded. I reached down, grabbing his hand from its place on my knee. “But this,” I gestured with my other hand to him and Cyrus, “this helps.” 

He reached up, holding my hand between both of his. I gave them a gentle tug. “Do you mind,” I said. 

He responded by taking the empty spot next to me, wrapping his unoccupied arm around me, and pulling me back into his chest. “Take your time Mira. I’ll be here when you need me.” I sunk into his chest, letting his warmth surround me. 

“Cyrus,” I grumbled. “Cyrus stop.” The giant pup continued to slather my face in kisses. It wasn’t my usual way to wake up but it was better than some. A thunk sounded as Cyrus jumped off the bed and onto the floor. Following Cyrus downstairs, I found one of the blankets from my room neatly folded on the couch next to some pillows. After placing me in bed, Devlon must have stayed over on the couch. My heart skipped thinking of the massive Commander sleeping on the couch in case I needed to talk in the middle of the night. 

“Come on Cyrus. Let’s get ready and then we can find your daddy.” 10 minutes later, I stepped outside with Cyrus beside me to head for the training rings. Training was due to start soon so it made sense to just take Cyrus there instead of heading all the way to Devlon’s house. 

As I approached our usual training ring, I noticed a familiar head of black hair that shone with bits of blue in the sunlight. “Balthazar,” I yelled as I sprinted toward the Illyrian. It felt like ages since I’d last seen him, let alone in the training ring. Hearing me, Balthazar turned, a wide smile crossing his face as he opened his arms wide for a hug. I jumped into his waiting arms, throwing my arms around his neck. 

“I missed you,” I said. 

Balthazar squeezed me tighter. “I missed you too.” His voice was muffled by my hair but it didn’t matter, he was ok. 

“Ready to get your ass kicked today,” I asked after he set me down.

Balthazar scoffed. “I might ask you that question. While you were away, flitting around Illyria, I was here training.” I snorted as I bumped his hip with mine. It was good to have him joking around again.

 I noticed Vex heading in our direction, his sights set on Balthazar. I nodded towards him. “Were you training or flirting with a certain someone,” I said. Vex brushed past us, his eyes firmly rested on Balthazar. I’m pretty sure he didn’t even notice I was back, but that’s ok, it was cute seeing them so smitten. Vex stopped a couple feet away and began stretching. 

“Apparently, he’s had a thing for me since we entered training together, decades ago,” Balthazar whispered out of the side of his mouth. 

“Guess some good came out of that hunting trip after all,” I whispered back. 

Balthazar gave me knowing look. Cyrus let out a loud bark and sprinted away from us. “That’s not the only thing.” Balthazar nodded in the direction the large puppy was heading. Devlon was bent down placing a few loving pats on Cyrus’ head. 

My brows furrowed as I leaned back to look at Balthazar. “What the fuck does that mean,” I asked. There wasn’t anything going on between us, we just worked closely together because of our positions, nothing more. Even I knew that was a lie though. Last night wasn’t something that happened between co-workers. 

Balthazar shrugged, his wings raising with the motion. “Come on Mira. You hated each other and then you got hurt and now you’re going on trips together.”

“Those were purely business,” I scoffed. 

“Yeah so’s sharing a bed, I guess,” Balthazar mumbled, clearly not meaning for me to hear. 

I inhaled sharply. I never told Balthazar about the sleeping situation at Titan’s Peak. I pointed my finger at his face. “Who told you? It was Emerie, wasn’t it.”

Balthazar raised his hands in surrender. “She’s a fantastic warrior, terrible gossip.”

“Shit.” My hands covered my face hoping the ground would swallow me where I stood. 

Balthazar patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry, she only told Vex and I. You know I won’t tell anyone and Vex is too awkward to engage in conversation with most fae,” Balthazar said. 

“Hey,” Vex’s voice yelled from behind us. “I mean, I know you’re right but still,” he grumbled. As we headed out for our run, Balthazar threw his arm around Vex, reassuring the male that he loved his awkwardness and found it endearing. 

Balthazar went through training like he had never been gravely injured and placed on bedrest for like two weeks. He easily kept up with Vex and I on the run and even took me to the ground during combat training. Unfortunately for me, training went rather poorly. You’d think since Feyre was such a gifted archer, some of that talent would rub off on me, but no. I was arguably the worst archer in the group, with my arrows constantly far from center, despite my best efforts. 

It all came to head when I lost my patience, unsheathed one of my daggers and threw it at the target, splitting one of the arrows directly down the middle. Unsheathing the other dagger, I threw it, hitting the center of the target. I stood there seething, my chest rising and falling rapidly, while Devlon dismissed the other warriors. Devlon walked up to my target, surveying the damage. 

“Nice aim. Unfortunately for you, we weren’t training with daggers today,” he said. His hands were clasped firmly behind his back as he turned to look at me. He wanted an explanation and he was going to wait until he got one. 

“I’ve been training with these stupid bows for months and yet I get worse with every arrow,” I said. 

Devlon walked toward me, picking my bow off the ground where I’d dropped it in a rage. He took an arrow from the quiver next to me and nocked it. One breath, in and out, was all it took for Devlon to bring the bow up, pull back the string and fire. He hit dead center. He turned and handed me the bow. “You’re a strong and talented warrior, Mira. But what you lack is control.”

I opened my mouth to retort but Devlon continued. “You learn quickly and excel at a rate faster than any Illyrian. As a result, you never learned when to take a step back and relax. Archery is about focus and precision. Skills I know you have, but ones you haven’t perfected,” he nodded towards the target. “Try again, but this time relax your posture and focus on the target, nothing else.” 

I grabbed an arrow from the bow and nocked it. I brought the bow up and pulled the string to the anchor point on my face. Focusing only on the target, I let out a deep breath and released the arrow. “Better,” Devlon said. He handed me another arrow. “Now, try again.”

I repeated the same process, pulling the arrow back. Before I could release the arrow, Devlon’s arms encircled mine. His face so close to mine that every breath he took rustled the hairs around it. Gently, he moved my hand on the bow to a higher placement. Then, he lifted my elbow to the correct position. He dropped his arms from around me, but stayed just as close. “Try now,” he whispered into my ear. His breath sent a shiver down my spine but I shook it off and focused on the target. I released a deep breath and let the arrow fly. With a satisfying thunk, the arrow embedded just right of center.  

I yelled and, without thinking, spun around to throw my arms over Devlon’s shoulders in a hug. Devlon didn’t hesitate to return the hug. I imagine this was what I missed when I fell asleep in his arms last night. It felt like wrapping the warmest most secure blanket around yourself. For the second time in less than a day, I felt my entire body relax as I slowly sunk into the warmth that was Devlon. As quickly as it happened, we let go of one another, each taking a step back. Devlon rubbed the back of his neck. “Nice shot,” he said with a smile. 

“Thanks,” I said. My face felt hot and I prayed I wasn’t obviously flushed. 

We both stood there for a few seconds not sure what to do. Devlon’s voice shattered the silence. “Well I should probably get going. Meetings to attend.” With a wave he turned and walked away. 

As I watched his retreating figure exit the training ring, I couldn’t help the, more than likely, idiotic grin that came over my face before I got back to training.

“Ladies, it appears you’re working out your mouths more than your bodies,” Cassian shouted from his spot on the other side of the room next to Azriel. Nesta made a rather rude hand gesture to him but began exercising as a broad smile crossed Cassian’s face at his mate’s brashness. We grumbled but followed Nesta’s lead and picked up our drills where we had left off.

Emerie’s face was a stark contrast to Gwyn’s. Any smile she had before was wiped away, replaced by a deep frown. Guilt shone in her eyes. “How did I not know,” she muttered more to herself than to us. My heart broke. She bore guilt for actions that weren’t her own and it wasn’t fair.

Apparently, Nesta felt the same because she reached over patting Emerie on the back. “It isn’t your fault Em. What you’re doing is amazing and they love your training. Never doubt what you’re doing for a second.”

I nodded my head. “Nesta’s right. I’ve seen how happy everyone is during training. If they didn’t want to train they wouldn’t be there, but they are,” I said in an attempt to quell Emerie’s racing thoughts. “Hopefully, Devlon will hand Alistair his ass soon.”

A snort sounded across the room. Azriel stood staring at me shaking his head. “Something you’d like to say Shadowsinger,” I asked tersely.

“You put too much faith in him, Mira.”

I leveled a glare at Azriel. I realized there was bad blood between Devlon and the Inner Circle, but I was getting sick of it. “Maybe give him a chance for once and he might surprise you,” I said. Azriel just scoffed and turned back to help the other priestesses with their training.

Gwyn nudged me, pulling my attention from the Shadowsinger. “Ignore him,” she muttered. “He’s been grumpy all week.”

Training wrapped up with shortly afterwards and I walked with Gwyn and the other priestesses up to the library. I had research to do before I headed back to Windhaven later that day. Hearing Clio speak about various Illyrian heroes had piqued my interest and I was ravenous for more information. Clotho directed me toward a lower portion of the library where the texts for my research were located. Titles barely peeked through the layers of grime on each book, making them close to unreadable. Illyrian History. Tales of Old Illyria. Warriors of Illyria. Each tome covered a different aspect of Illyrian history. I quickly pulled out the book, Tales of Old Illyria, and found many of the stories Clio described on the tower in Titan’s Peak. Continuing to read, I noticed many of the details in the stories differed from what Clio told me. I flipped back to the front of the book looking for any information on the book or author.

Underneath the title was the name A. Tiretes with the inscription, “Researcher of the lesser fae.” I scoffed, slamming the book shut and placing it back on the shelf. It amazed me that high fae complained about other fae being lesser than them but used them as the main fighting force in their armies.

I pulled out the book Illyrian History, making sure to check the author before reading further. Castor Ectorius. I hesitated. That name, it was so familiar but I couldn’t quite place it. Then I remembered my conversation with Devlon after visiting Balthazar. Castor was the name of Balthazar’s father and one of Devlon’s closest advisors.

Wondering if it was the same Castor, I flipped to the dedication page. In bold lettering were the words, “For Balthazar and Phoebe.” It wasn’t exactly groundbreaking news but it was interesting to learn that Balthazar’s father was a renowned scholar of Illyrian history. Made a lot of sense that Devlon held him in such high regard. For the second time in one week, it struck me how poorly everyone represented the Illyrians. Markus’ words echoed through my mind. Clearly, the Illyrians weren’t mindless grunts, that much was obvious. They had their own culture that went beyond fighting, but the fae insisted on classifying them only as warriors with no purpose beyond warfare. The difference between what other fae thought of the Illyrians and who the Illyrians actually were had never been clearer.

Hefting the book into my arms, I made my way up to the top of the library. Clotho nodded when I asked if I could borrow the book for awhile. Based on the dust covering it, no one needed it anytime soon. Hurrying back to my room at the House of Wind, I curled up in an armchair across from the fire, scouring the book for information. A cup of tea and some cookies appeared a few hours in, the house always kept a good eye on me when I was home.

(Stop reading)

I was munching on my third cookie when a section stalled my hand as it brought the cookie to my mouth. The entire chapter was about wing-clipping, from the process to how the cuts impacted the ability to fly. This particular section focused on the history behind it. Castor wrote that “wing-clipping was a result of the takeover of Illyria by the Night Court. During the early years of Night Court rule, many Illyrian children were orphaned when their parents were forced to take part in Night Court’s battles. The Illyrians had effectively become expendable cannon fodder. Seeing the decimation in their communities, the Illyrians fought back against Night Court rule. The Night Court retaliated, hard. To keep the Illyrians in line, the High Lord decided to clip the wings of female Illyrians as punishment for any Illyrian stepping out of line. Eventually, the punishment was twisted by certain Illyrians in an effort to make females subservient to males. The practice has become highly discouraged by some Illyrian leaders but still persists in various camps throughout Illyria.”

(Start reading)

I brought the cookie to my mouth but found my hand empty when it reached my lips. Peaking over the edge of the book, I found it in pieces on the floor. I fell back into the chair, slowly closing the book and curling myself around it. The passage was settling in. Each second felt like an eternity. It felt different being in Velaris knowing the Night Court weaponized the Illyrian's love for one another and turned it into a punishment. Did the Inner Circle know the reasoning behind wing-clipping? Or did they ignore it to undermine the Illyrians? I’d spent months in Windhaven but no one ever said anything.

“Shit,” I yelled. The sun was high in the sky but would start setting within the next few hours. I needed to get going if I wanted to get back to Windhaven before darkness fell. My feet slid down the hall as I turned into the dining room. Nesta and Cassian were just sitting down to lunch but their attention turned to my panting form, a bag slung over my shoulder.

“Leaving,” Cassian asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. “Well make sure you come back soon. We’ve missed you.”

Nesta got up to give me a parting hug. “Stay safe Mira. I don’t want to be summoned because of a life threatening emergency again,” she whispered in my ear.

I chuckled. Unlike what everyone thought, Nesta had motherly tendencies and always worried about me. “I’ll try not to get hurt again but I make no promises.”

With a hug to Cassian, I saddled Zephyr and began the journey back to Windhaven. Once, going to Windhaven felt like walking into the lion’s den. Now, it felt like I was leaving the lion’s den and heading to shelter.

“There’s always fae who want to push back and unfortunately some, like Alistair, have the capabilities to actually take action and do as they wish. It doesn’t help that clipping has been a part of Illyria for so long. Despite us working to fight against it, the road has been long and trying.” Clio took a long sip of her tea, keeping herself calm.

I reached over, grabbing the honey to add to my tea. “I wanted to thank you, by the way, for feeling comfortable and safe enough to tell me about what happened. I know how hard it can be to entrust that information to others, especially those you barely know,” I said.

Clio shot me a grateful smile. “It’s a little easier having someone who understands that part of you. That’s partly why I was so excited to meet you.”

I couldn’t stop my eyes from watering. My sisters and I rarely discussed our violent transition to becoming fae. We all buried it, for better or for worse, never speaking about it. And that might work for awhile, but sometimes it felt like the weight of the world was crushing me. But now, it felt a little less heavy. I reached my hand across the table, offering it to Clio. Her smaller hand clasped mine tightly. With our hands entwined over steaming cups of tea, we eased that weight on ourselves bit by bit.

The wind battered me as I stood across from Markus and Clio thanking them profusely for their hospitality over the last few days. Devlon stepped up after I finished my goodbyes, hugging his sister and best friend. With a final wave we were both airborne. Devlon offered to escort me from Titan’s Peak to the edge of Velaris. I think after the hunting trip he worried leaving me alone would lead to my imminent death.

As we flew further south, the mountains became smaller and smaller until we flew over flat forests with lakes and small streams scattered throughout. Devlon pointed out some of the well-known geographical features in the area including a lake that was said to be thousands of feet deep and teeming with fish. While most camps relied on hunting, the camps in this area were filled with the finest fishermen in Illyria.

Soon after passing over the lake, the sun began to set, casting an orange-pink hue across the sky. Before the sun could fully set behind the mountains, we spotted the outskirts of Velaris. We landed atop a hill just outside the northern city gates since Devlon wasn’t keen on stepping foot in Velaris if he didn’t have to. He walked over to where I sat astride Zephyr. Reaching out a hand, he ran his fingers through the feathers on Zephyr’s neck. Keeping his eyes on Zephyr he said, “Do you mind not telling anyone the specifics about Valeria and Clio. I realize that may make this discussion difficult with Rhysand but it isn’t our story to tell.”

I nodded my head vigorously. “Of course. The last thing they need is everyone gossiping about them. All Rhysand needs to know is what Alistair’s doing.”

“I still don’t like this,” Devlon finally looked up at me. His eyes betrayed the worry he was trying to hide.

My gut twisted. I’d spent all of last night tossing and turning trying to decide if telling Rhysand was the right course of action. If I told Rhysand now he would probably tell me to keep an eye on it and report back if anything more happened. At most, he would send Cassian to investigate. If I kept the information from him and he found out later, he would think we were incapable of handling the situation and take immediate action, making things worse. By telling him now, I could hopefully buy time for Devlon to figure out how to deal with Alistair without starting a civil war. Still, I had a sinking feeling about telling Rhysand.

“I don’t either,” I said. “Seems like we’re both at a crossroads in our decision making.” Devlon’s lip twitched into a smile but faded as soon as it happened. “The one thing I can promise is I’ll try my best to give you the time you need.”

Devlon nodded. Warmth enveloped my knee as Devlon’s hand gently settled on it. His eyes flicked to mine and he opened his mouth about to say something. Instead, he shook his head. “Be safe,” he said. With a pat to Zephyr he turned and left.

Feyre and Rhysand’s house was just as I remembered it when I left, ostentatious and unwelcoming. Honestly, who needed a house this large. The cold of the marble was a stark contrast to the warmth of my home in Windhaven. I made a beeline for Rhysand’s office on the main floor so I could get this conversation over with as quickly as possible.

I knocked lightly on the door. A soft ‘come in’ sounded from the other side. I cracked the door open and slipped inside. Rhysand was bent over papers on his desk, his eyes roving over the words that covered them. He looked up at the soft click of the door closing, his eyes widening in surprise as they landed on me.

“Mira,” he said, walking around the desk to greet me, “Is everything okay? We weren’t expecting you back anytime soon.”

I flopped in a chair already done with this conversation. “I wanted to inform you personally about what’s happening in Illyria.” Rhysand nodded at me to continue as he sat back in his chair once more. “There’s a band of Illyrians terrorizing female Illyrians. They clip their wings and leave them for dead at various camps.” I paused waiting for Rhysand’s response. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it slightly.

“Let me guess it’s Alistair’s camp,” he asked.

My jaw dropped open in shock. “How did you know?”

Rhysand waved his hand. “Do you remember when I dispatched Cassian to Illyria awhile ago?” I nodded. “Well he was dealing with Alistair’s father. He was originally in charge of that camp and after Cassian… dealt with him, Alistair was next in line.”

So I was right. Cassian had placed a bandage over the issue but created an even worse wound in the process. Rhysand scoffed. “Figures Devlon can’t handle the situation himself.”

I bristled. “That’s not why I’m here,” I spat. “Devlon is perfectly capably of handling this situation himself. You’re the one who worsened the situation in the first place. Maybe if you had just left it to the people who actually know what’s happening in Illyria we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Rhysand interrupted me before I could continue. “Are you suggesting I don’t understand what’s going on in my court.”

I clasped my hands together to stop the shaking and swallowed. “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” I cleared my throat. “If you cared to give any of your time to Illyria you would see that Devlon is a perfectly capable leader. Now, I’m telling you this to keep you informed about what’s happening within your court and letting your know that the situation is being handled.”

Rhysand looked less than impressed with my outburst but didn’t press the issue further. “Keep me informed and tell me if it develops further.” I stood up to leave. “And Mira. If you speak to me that way again we’re going to have bigger issues.”

My arrival at the House of Wind was almost as pleasant as my conversation with Rhysand. Nesta and Cassian were sitting down for dinner when I came stomping into the dining room. I took a seat and immediately started dishing food onto my plate and eating it.

Cassian shot Nesta a questioning look. “Uh, Mira, hi. Didn’t know you were coming home.” I simply grunted in response and kept eating.

“Mira,” Nesta said using her tone she only used when she was in older sister mode. “What’s wrong?” Everyone gave Nesta shit for so long for being cold and selfish but I’d never felt that way. Nesta and I reacted similarly whenever things went wrong by cutting people off and keeping to ourselves. I loved all my sisters but Feyre and Elain never understood that side of us. We weren’t selfish, we were simply hurting and coping in the way we knew how.

I swallowed my mouthful of food and sat back in the chair. Then I burst into tears. Despite trying as hard as I could, I couldn’t hold back the torrent of emotions that spilled out of me. Nesta got up from her seat and knelt down in front of me. She rested her hands on my knees and peered up at me from below. “Are you okay,” she asked softly. I nodded.

“It’s all just a lot,” I said through my sobs. I looked at Cassian. “How do you deal with it?”

He gave me a sad smile. “It takes awhile. But surrounding yourself with people you love always helps ease the pain, whatever it might be.”

My sobs lessened until I was only sniffling. “Sorry about bursting in on your dinner,” I said.

“Nonsense. You’re always welcome here Mira, this is your home too after all,” Cassian said. And he was right. I’d been living with Nesta and Cassian in the House of Wind before I left for Windhaven. I found being among the clouds and mountains comforting and enjoyed the serenity of being far from town.

With Cassian’s words we all settled back into our seats and continued eating as I told them about what was happening in Illyria. Cassian listened silently, but he looked concerned about what I was telling him. He rubbed his hands over his face, clearly frustrated. “I hoped that Alistair wouldn’t be as much of a problem as his father, but clearly he’s even worse,” he murmured.

“I’ll keep you updated on the situation, Cass.”

“Thanks Mira.”

We spent the rest of dinner talking about lighter topics and I promised to join Nesta and the others tomorrow at training before I made my way to bed. The fire was already roaring in the fireplace when I arrived, for which I silently thanked the house. I riffled through my clothes searching for something comfortable to wear and found a soft, forest green sweater tucked in the back of a drawer. Quickly throwing it on, I snuggled deeply into its warmth.

A loud groan left my lips as I flopped into bed—just as soft as I remembered. But something felt off. I rolled over staring into the empty space beside me devoid of a giant Illyrian warrior. The room felt colder, like the warmth had been sucked into that empty space next to me. The fire raged higher in the grate and the cold faded but a tiny bit remained nestled within me.

“Why can’t you just ‘fix’ the problem,” I asked, making sure to keep my voice down so no one heard my suggestion to kill a prominent Illyrian leader. I wasn’t usually one for murder but Alistair’s actions were despicable and from what everyone said he didn’t seem inclined to change.

“Because killing Alistair means starting a civil war between Illyrians. Even more blood would be shed and many would die. Contrary to what everyone seems to think about us we don’t chomp at the bit to fight and die. We train because it’s part of us. We train because living here necessitates it. Fighting isn’t in our blood, surviving is.”

“Is this really surviving though? Females live in constant fear of being ripped from their homes and having their freedom taken from them. There’s always a give and take. And right now, Alistair is taking and taking. When are you going to give him something to fear?” I could tell Devlon was agitated but I continued anyways.

“Cassian claims he fixed the issues in Illyria awhile back but it seems he really just applied a patch to something that needs so much more. I can try to hold off Cassian and Rhysand for awhile but sooner or later they will get involved and things might get a whole lot worse,” I finished.

“Maybe your precious Night Court can come back and ‘fix’ our shit again because it helped so much last time,” Devlon snapped. I’d expected backlash. He was on edge and I was offering an opinion he wouldn’t like. Devlon turned and stomped away. He walked back to the outskirts of the camp and then just stopped. He threw his hands in the air and turned making a beeline back to me. I bristled expecting a stern, or very very angry, talking to from the Commander.

Devlon stopped in front of me, his body rigid and hands clasped behind him. “I apologize for my outburst. I shouldn’t take my frustrations out on you. You’re just trying to do your job as an emissary.”

I tried to speak but nothing came out. I cleared my throat and said, “You’re wrong. This isn’t about a job. This about giving a bastard what he deserves.” My eyes flicked back to Clio. “I’m just worried.”

Devlon looked out at his warriors. “We all are,” he said with a grimace.

To reach Alistair’s camp, which Devlon lovingly referred to as the Pit, we had to fly south for two hours. The warriors made a point to give Zephyr a wide birth as we flew. Probably for the best since Zephyr was a little on edge today. I tried to boost his mood by giving him an entire sack of apples but he ate them like he was punishing them.

Zephyr wasn’t the only one on edge. All the warriors had their heads on a swivel, constantly looking around for threats. Some even flew with their bows drawn and arrows knocked. My right hand stayed close to the handle of my dagger, ready to draw at a moments notice.

Eventually, Markus signaled that we were approaching the camp. The forest obscured most of the camp from view, but from what I could tell, the camp was significantly larger than Titan’s Peak, probably close to the size of Windhaven. It worried me that such a big camp was actively against Devlon. How many other camps agreed with Alistair? I swallowed imagining another war. My family barely survived the last one. It wasn’t something I wanted to relive any time soon. Knowing how many Illyrians had died against Hybern, I understood Devlon’s reluctance to act against Alistair. Simply put, there was no good solution for this problem.

With a signal from Devlon, we dove straight down, heading directly for a clearing in the forest. Zephyr’s wings were tucked in tight to his body. I leaned forward, my chest flush against his back, to keep the wind from whipping me in the face. At the last second, his wings extended and we slammed to the ground. Zephyr shook out his feathers as I righted myself on his back, my hand still grasping the edge of my dagger.

Markus stepped up next to Devlon as an Illyrian slowly sauntered towards our group. He was younger than Devlon, probably around Rhysand’s age. His long, dark hair, which flashed red in the morning light, brushed across his bulging biceps. Despite being shorter than Devlon, he was rather intimidating. He looked like one of those guys who would show off his strength by crushing an apple in one fist. He had a smug look plastered on his face as he stopped before Devlon.

Alistair’s eyes flickered over me but quickly snapped back as he assessed our group. I held his stare, hoping my rage wasn’t too apparent on my face. Zephyr let out a low growl at the male. Alistair’s eyes jumped to Zephyr and he inadvertently took a step backwards at the sight of the griffin.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted warriors, with bows drawn, emerging from the trees, surrounding us. I silently thanked Devlon for insisting on bringing so many warriors on this trip. It was clear we weren’t welcome here.

Alistair dipped low at the waist giving Devlon a mocking bow. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Commander,” Alistair spat, his voice echoed through the clearing.

“There have been reports your warriors have been clipping and dropping females at various camps throughout Illyria,” Devlon replied. His voice was even but I could tell he was restraining himself.

Alistair sneered at Devlon. “And what if they are?”

Markus bristled at the indifference in Alistair’s tone. “If they are, then you are disobeying direct orders from your commander which is punishable by death.”

Alistair smirked, clearly not bothered by Devlon’s threats. “You know I would believe you if you had the balls to reprimand me after your poor sister was attacked.” Markus’ hand instantly wrapped around the handle of his sword at the mention of Clio. “I suggest Lord Devlon, that you don’t start what you can’t finish.”

Devlon just stared at him. Then he grabbed Alistair by the front of his collar and slammed him into the ground. “I can, and will, kill you Alistair if you continue to hurt the females. So help me, I will raze this camp to the ground,” Devlon growled in his face.

Alistair let out a booming laugh. “Go ahead, kill me and plunge Illyria into a war of your own making.” Alistair’s laughing became more unhinged, until he was sputtering for breath. “You think you can save them but you’re wrong.” His eyes flicked to mine. “That bitch will be next. Mark my words, you won’t save this one.”

Devlon snarled in Alistair’s face. Then, he picked Alistair up and slammed him back into the ground. Devlon turned, walking back to Markus. “Pleasure seeing you again Devlon,” Alistair wheezed as he sat up. With a signal from Devlon we were airborne once more and heading back to safety.

I narrowly avoided Clio’s fist as it came racing toward my face, shaking me from my thoughts. I dropped to the ground swinging my leg out, taking out Clio’s knees and forcing her to the ground. “Ok. I’ve had enough falling for one day,” Clio gasped, breathless after the latest fall. I smiled apologetically and reached out a hand for her to take. We leaned on one another as we walked over to a set of benches against the nearest wall for a breather.

Luckily, because of the notoriously terrible weather in Titan’s Peak, the Illyrians constructed an indoor training arena. The building consisted of dirt floors surrounded by four walls and a roof. The idea was to best mimic the elements of training outside while protecting the warriors from feet of snow and ice.

“So, how’d you sleep last night,” Clio asked with a teasing lilt to her voice.

I blushed thinking about how I woke up with my face plastered squarely across Devlon’s chest and his face nestled in my hair. “Good,” I said. Clio winked at me, clearly she was no longer feeling bad about our sleeping situation.

“Well I’m glad to hear it because Devlon can be an ass if he doesn’t get enough sleep,” Clio said. “He’s almost bitten my head off on more than one occasion because he, and I quote, ‘achieved insufficient sleep to be a nice person.’”

“So he never gets enough sleep then?”

Clio spit out the water she was drinking and released a loud laugh at my question. Her laughter was infectious so I couldn’t help the snort that left my mouth, which only made Clio laugh even harder. Through her laughs she said, “must be the case.”

We finally settled down enough and Clio had to wipe her eyes from the tears of laughter that escaped. “Actually, ever since the hunting trip, he’s been tolerable, nice even.”

Clio nodded, giving me a small smile. “Devlon was a bear for those days you were unconscious. I don’t know if it was out of genuine concern for you or dreading Night Court interference, but he was worried about something. What I can say is that he hasn’t spoken an ill word about you since then.”

I shouldn’t have cared what Devlon thought of me, but part of me beamed at Clio’s words. What was once animosity was now replaced by mutual respect for one another. Clio chugged the rest of her water then shot up, clapping her hands together. “Now, time for the tour!”

Clio quickly herded my out of the training camp, bouncing on her feet with excitement. I bristled as the cold air hit me but trudged after Clio who didn’t seem the least bit phased. Guess if you live somewhere long enough you get used to the weather. Clio and I walked through the small town center as she pointed out various things. At the center was the town well with a pile of rocks lying next to it. Clio said that because of the temperatures in Titan’s Peak, the surface of the well typically froze overnight so the Illyrians used rocks to break up the ice.

On either side of the well sat the mess hall and general store. As we walked down the main street past the two buildings we approached the tower. Despite having run up it multiple times earlier, I hadn’t truly appreciated the magnificence of it. Carved into the facade were scenes of Illyrian warriors, both male and female. I gasped, in awe of the craftsmanship. My ears perked at the sound of approaching footsteps. A looming shadow stopped beside me, appraising the tower as well.

“It depicts generations of Illyrian battles and at the top is the battle of gods that occurred on this mountain. The tower is thousands of years old, the oldest site in Illyria. A symbol of the might of Illyria and our strength against all odds. We believe that when the tower falls so will Illyria,” Devlon said.

“I’ve never seen anything so magnificent,” I whispered.

“Not just mindless grunts eh?” Markus said.

I could only nod in agreement as I continued to marvel at the structure. Clio skipped to my side, holding out her arm for me. “Come on Mira. I can tell you about all the pieces as we walk to the top.” Clio turned to give Markus and Devlon a short wave. “Meet you boys up there.”

Clio and I made our ascent up the winding tower steps, wind battering us the higher we got. Through the whole climb, Clio recounted stories of various battles and the heroes who fought them. Fallion stood against droves of monsters from the Steppes, allowing his camp to escape their wrath. Wynerva became commander of the Illyrians after defeating the previous commander in unarmed combat. Vathomere flew faster than any Illyrian before him, supposedly even faster than the wind that carried him. Each story was etched into stone, a living memory of the Illyria from long ago.

If I thought the view from the base of the tower was spectacular, this was beyond my wildest imagining. To the West and East I could see the snow-capped mountains spanning for miles and out in the distance, Ramiel rose above all the rest. Far north, I saw a glimmer of blue peaking through the mountains. Looking South were the lush, green forests of the Illyrian Steppes. I felt like I could see the whole world from here.

I heard whispered discussion behind me but was too distracted by the view in front of me to care. Suddenly, a hush went over the tower and then Devlon exploded.

“Damnit Markus when,” Devlon yelled. I’d seen Devlon angry numerous times, usually from my own antics, but this was something else entirely. I’d seen the look in Devlon’s eyes in one other person, Rhysand after any interaction with Nesta. He flexed his hands, clenching and releasing multiple times.

“Two days ago,” Markus replied calmly.

Devlon looked up to the sky and inhaled deeply. “You mean to tell me that Alistair dropped that poor girl here two days ago and you’re just telling me now,” Devlon said quietly, yet fury still laced his tone. Markus nodded hesitantly.

“I know you’re mad, but the healers were with her for awhile and she needed rest before anyone talked to her,” Markus said. Devlon seemed to relax a bit after that. He released the tension in his hands and nodded gruffly at Markus.

“Who’s Alistair?” I whispered in an attempt to cut the tension.

“Alistair’s an assho—,” Clio held up her hand stopping Markus.

(Stop here if you don't want to read wing clipping discussion)

“Alistair is the male who did this to me.” She gestured to the scarring on her wings. Markus reached over and grabbed Clio’s hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “When Devlon started training the females and cracking down on wing clipping, many camps, including Alistair’s, vehemently opposed Devlon’s orders. Eventually, Alistair and his warriors took it upon themselves to fix the problem. This is the result.” I couldn’t imagine what Clio had gone through. Not only going through the trauma of having her wings clipped, but being used as a pawn in other people’s sick game.

Devlon walked over to the edge of the tower. His knuckles went white from his tight grip on the wall. “After, Devlon stopped training the females but eventually it started back up again. And when it did so did the attacks,” Markus said.

I glanced at Devlon. His hands had gotten impossibly tighter on the wall and his jaw was clenched. “He hunts the females down, clips their wings, then dumps them at the edges of various camps,” Devlon’s voice cracked, like he was holding back a torrent of emotions. “How is she,” he asked softly.

“She’s better. I can see if she’s ok with a short talk today,” Clio said. With a nod from Devlon, Markus took Clio gently into his arms giving her a soft kiss on the forehead before he took off with her toward the center of camp.

I approached Devlon, stopping beside him at the wall so close I could feel the heat radiating off him. Devlon’s ragged breathing was the only sound on top of the tower. While I gathered my thoughts, I simply stood next to Devlon as a comforting presence.

“You know after my sister’s and I were forced into the Cauldron, Feyre blamed herself for months,” I said. “She felt that it was her fault. That she had antagonized the King of Hybern and led him directly to our door. But it was never her fault. The only person responsible was the man who forced me into that Cauldron. Not once did I blame her for his actions. Whatever you might think, it isn’t your fault what happened to Clio.”

Warmth enveloped my hand. I looked down and found Devlon’s hand covering mine. He gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” he whispered. I smiled down at our joined hands and turned back to the view.

(Resume reading after the break)

“How is she,” I asked Clio and Devlon as they exited the female’s healing room.

“Valeria’s shaken, obviously, but doing better. Luckily, border patrol got her to the healers quickly. Her only wounds sustained were those to her wings. Markus already has plans to take her home to her family, under a full protective detail, once she is fully healed,” Devlon said.

“Why would Alistair leave her here?”

“Valeria was stationed here as a member of the border patrol, likely why Alistair targeted her specifically. Her family lives to the south, in one of the bigger camps,” Devlon clarified. “Once we finish our next mission, I will personally pay her family a visit and make sure she recovers well.”

“After our next mission,” I questioned.

Devlon smirked, a dark glint in his eye. “Oh yes Mira, we’re paying dear old Alistair a little visit.”

“I should just begin with bribery from now on because food is all you care about,” I said. Zephyr squawked loudly in response. “And me? I’m calling bullshit on that one, you just bit me twice,” I scoffed.

“I thought he wouldn’t hurt a fly?” I whirled around to find Devon smirking at me. Zephyr stamped his foot and shook his head appearing to dislike Devlon’s question.

“He’s just being slightly temperamental this morning that’s all,” I said in Zephyr’s defense.

“Just like his rider.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed by his comment. I did know I wanted to wipe that smirk off Devlon’s face but before I could a soft voice interrupted.

“Now, now, Dev be nice,” the female said as she stopped beside Devlon, “we all know how difficult you can be from time to time.” I couldn’t help the grin that came over my face at the female’s words. From the slap she landed on the back of his head and the resigned grimace on Devlon’s face this female was his sister. No one could slap the commander and get away with it. Now tackling your commander during a training demonstration in front of everyone, that was completely acceptable. Not.

The female turned to face me, her long, raven hair cascading over her shoulder. If I hadn’t already realized she was Devlon’s sister, her eyes would have given it away. They sparkled and shone bright in the early morning sun, the green in her hazel eyes illuminated by the light. Apparently, good looks ran in the family. “Hello Mira. I’m Clio, Devlon’s favorite younger sister,” she beamed as she reached out her hand in greeting.

“Clio, you’re my only sister,” Devlon sighed at his sisters theatrics.

Clio rolled her eyes at her brother as I grasped her hand for a shake. Clio had other ideas though. She swiftly pulled me into a hug, squeezing tight. “I’m so excited to finally meet you,” Clio said gleefully as she let me go, “Devlon’s told me so much about you.” She elbowed Devlon in the ribs as she teased him.

I winced. Devlon and I had gotten off to a very rocky start and hadn’t gotten along until recently, so I dreaded that all Clio knew about me were bad things. “Only good things I hope,” I perked up hoping for a positive response.

Clio waved her hand dismissively. “Oh don’t worry. You’ve made quite the impression on my brother.” Devlon made a loud choking noise at his sisters admission. Clio clapped him on the back a few times. “Come on Dev breathe. It’s not hard.” Clio giggled at her own antics.

Squawk! Zephyr was peeved with the lack of attention he was getting. “And who is this?” Clio said as she stepped around me closer to Zephyr.

Drawing my eyes from Devlon— I was still reeling from Clio’s sudden admission— I nestled my hand in Zephyr’s feathers. My eyes shot to the long scars on her wings before resting on Zephyr. “This would be Zephyr.”

“You’re very handsome,” Clio cooed. Zephyr preened at the compliment, nudging his head into her hand. Clio happily obliged running her hands through the feathers on his head. While Zephyr and Clio bonded, I walked to his other side to attach my gear. A large presence appeared beside me.

“I apologize for my sister’s brash behavior. She’s rather… open with her opinions, unfortunately,” Devlon said. From his tone, he was quite uncomfortable with the entire situation.

I peered up at Devlon. His body was rigid. The black leather of his armor strained due to his stance. His jaw clenched as if trying to control a grimace that wanted to come over his face. The sword from the hunting trip was strapped to his back. How anyone could wield such an immense sword was beyond me. His green siphons gleamed in the light, appearing to take on an ethereal glow. Clutched in his hands was a helmet fit for a commander of the Illyrian legion. Illyrian warriors typically more the same hammered metal helmet in battle. However, to distinguish Devlon as commander among the other warriors, Devlon’s helmet was jet black with two horns protruding from both sides of the helmet. The tips were brushed in gold and sharp enough to easily gouge enemy opponents. No doubt Devlon would be a chilling sight on the battlefield.

My mind conjured up pictures of Devlon mowing down Hybern’s forces wielding his behemoth of a sword. I caught myself before my mind could spiral even deeper into those thoughts. I shrugged at Devlon’s words. “That’s what younger siblings are for,” I chuckled.

“Ah. So harassing your sisters was a typical activity for you,” Devlon questioned.

“Possibly.”

Devlon shook his head at my jest. “Mount up,” he gestured to Zephyr, “I want to arrive before the sun sets.” Flying through the Illyrian wilderness at night sounded less appealing than visiting the Court of Nightmares, although the likelihood of death was probably similar in both situations. Devlon turned to Clio an unimpressed look came over his face when he saw his sister ogling Zephyr. “Come on Clio, Markus’ waiting.”

Clio’s head snapped up and she swiftly made her way to her brother. “It’s unfair to always use Markus against me brother.” Devlon rolled his eyes and took off into the sky with his sister wrapped in his arms.

I hefted myself onto Zephyr’s back, settling comfortably into the saddle. I tapped Zephyr on the side of his neck signaling I was ready. He flared out his wings and with two beats we were flying. It didn’t take long to catch up to Devlon and Clio.

The air was frigid and would only get worse the higher up in the mountains we got. I wrapped my cloak tighter around myself and raised my hood, attempting to shield my face from the brunt of the cold. Clio clenched the edges of her fur-lined cloak in her fists, her knuckles white from the grip. Devlon seemed completely unfazed by the cold. It was hard to tell if the cold really didn’t bother him or if he was just putting on a brave face. No doubt Clio would incessantly tease him if he so much as shivered.

I steered Zephyr closer to the siblings. “Where exactly are we going,” I yelled over the wind.

“Titan’s Peak. It sits on the top of a mountain on the northern border of Illyria,” Devlon yelled back. “Legend says that thousands of years ago, when Illyria was untouched wilderness, a fight between mighty gods took place on the mountain. Their fighting was so fierce it leveled the mountains creating the Steppes. Finally, after weeks of fighting, a victor was crowned and immortalized within the mountain peak, never to be forgotten.”

“Do the Illyrians follow different gods than the rest of the Night Court?” I asked.

Devlon shook his head. “We used to, before the Night Court took over. Now most Illyrians recognize the Mother or nothing at all.”

“And you?”

“I don’t know what to believe in anymore.” Devlon’s words hung in the air. Only the beating of wings and the roaring of wind could be heard.

“Geez Dev lighten up,” Clio shattered the silence with her sarcastic comment. I couldn’t help the booming laugh that escaped me. I barely heard the soft chuckle of Devlon. The rest of the trip was lighthearted. Clio asked the occasional question about my life before the Cauldron and I happily obliged. After awhile we slipped into a comfortable silence.

A longer we flew, the colder it became. My teeth were chattering and ice was forming on the edges of my cloak when I spotted buildings in the distance. A tower rose high above the camp, dominating the skyline. The tower was a shock of black against the gray sky of autumn. The top of the tower skimmed the clouds. Shapes, presumably keeping a lookout for enemies, zig-zagged along the outside revealing an external staircase utilized by the Illyrians.

In the shadow of the tower lay the camp of Titan’s Peak. It was significantly smaller than Windhaven, one of the largest Illyrian camps. But unlike Windhaven, ever building was built out of solid stone. With the feet of snow blanketing the ground, it made sense the Illyrians here had built sturdy shelters.

Snow erupted as we slammed into the ground directly in front of a group of awaiting Illyrians. One warrior separated himself from the group, walking forward a few steps but hesitating to go further at the sight of Zephyr who was giving his best intimidation stance. At the sight of Clio, the male disregarded Zephyr, quickly making his way to her.

Clio let out piercing squeal as she launched herself into the warriors waiting arms. Her fingers caressed the dark brown curls at the base of his neck. As the couple embraced, I dismounted Zephyr and took hold of his reigns. Not because I thought Zephyr would attack but so the group of Illyrians could relax a little. In an attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone, I began to awkwardly remove my bags and weapons from Zephyr. My hands fumbled as I attempted to strap my daggers to either leg.

“Let me,” Devlon said quietly, trying to not draw attention. Devlon knelt down and took the dagger from my hands. I shifted my leg towards him so he could easily situate the dagger. His feather-light fingertips skimmed my thigh as he wrapped the sheath around and secured it. I glanced over his shoulder as he stood and saw the warriors quickly avert their eyes. Clio and the male were still too wrapped up in one another to take notice.

Devlon leaned in. His head directly next to mine. “Relax. You can handle this lot after dealing with everyone in Windhaven.” I shot him a grateful smile before he turned to address the Illyrians. “Ahem,” Devlon loudly cleared his throat. Clio drew herself out of the male’s arms and turned towards her brother.

“Can we help you,” she asked.

“Yes Clio. I believe introductions are in order.” Devlon quirked an eyebrow at his sister as if daring her to object. The male gripped her hand and made his way over to us. He was on the shorter side for an Illyrian but his muscles made him imposing despite his short stature. He had muscles in places I’d never even seen muscles before. I’d bet on him every time in an arm wrestling contest.

“Mira, this is Markus my lieutenant and leader of the Titan’s Peak camp,” Devlon gestured to Markus. “This is Mira an emissary from the Night Court. She will be accompanying me on the inspection of the border camps.”

“Lovely to meet you Mira. We’re honored to have you here,” Markus said. Honestly, I couldn’t tell if he was being courteous or if he actually meant it. I had a feeling most Illyrians weren’t thrilled to see a member of the Night Court in their camp.

Uncomfortable with being the center of attention among so many unfamiliar faces I shuffled my feet, struggling to think of something to say. “That’s quite a mount you got there,” Markus quickly said. I silently thanked him as all eyes shot back to Zephyr who huffed at the acknowledgement.

“He’s very friendly,” I hesitated, “for the most part.”

“Luckily, the stables are rather close to your lodgings, so your mighty friend will be quite comfortable, I hope,” Markus said. “If you’ll follow me I’ll escort you.” Markus grasped Clio’s hand as he turned to lead.

The camp was even smaller than it appeared from the sky. Most of the houses surrounded a mess hall, similar to the one in Windhaven but smaller, and a general store that sold everything from food to clothes. Despite the small size, the community was bustling. Males and females walked around doing their daily tasks and children threw snowballs at one another. One narrowly missed hitting Devlon in the face. He simply winked at the children and continued walking.

After only a few minutes, we arrived at the stables. I quickly unsaddled Zephyr, slipping him a few apples in the process. As I worked I overheard bits and pieces of Markus and Devlon’s conversation. Devlon asked about how things were going in the camp and I believe Markus muttered something about an incident. I simply shrugged and continued feeding Zephyr his beloved apples. I assured the Illyrian male who worked in the stables that I would care for Zephyr the entirety of my stay. His face lit up like Amren’s whenever someone gave her new jewelry.

“Mira, you ready,” Devlon asked. I nodded and followed him and Markus outside.

We walked across the road to a small hut. Smoke poured from the chimney enticing me to go inside to the warmth. “I must apologize. Unfortunately, this is the only hut available,” Markus spoke as he opened the door, “and, um, there’s only one bed.”

I’d barely noticed Balthazar’s missing presence during the run thanks to Vex, but partner exercises quickly reminded me that my closest friend was currently laid out in bed recovering from a near-death experience. As the Illyrians jumped into their exercises, I awkwardly stood in the training ring not knowing what to do. It felt like my first day all over again. A hand clapped down onto my shoulder and I twisted around, startled, to see the owner of said hand.

“Since Balthazar’s still on bed rest, you can train with me this week.” Devlon smirked, “don’t worry I’ll try to go easy on you.”

I scoffed, following him to an open spot in the training ring. “More like I’ll go easy on you,” I muttered.

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking and they felt all clammy as I followed Devlon to an open area of the ring. Besides that one disastrous demonstration weeks ago where I tackled Devlon, I’d never trained with Devlon. My brain was already conjuring up thousands of awkward and embarrassing scenarios where I got my ass handed to me. The shaking in my hands worsened and my heart started beating so loud I barely heard Devlon. 

“Ok get into basic position, unarmed,” Devlon said. 

I shuffled my right foot slightly in front of my left and brought my fists up, ready to guard my face. Devlon walked around me, assessing my stance. He stopped behind me and gently kicked my feet further apart. “I’ve noticed during your training that you tend to be slightly unbalanced keep your feet further apart to steady yourself.”

“Now your hands,” Devlon leaned in, his chest flush to my back, and wrapped his arms around my waist. He gently took my wrists and brought my fists up higher in front of me. “Your fists need to be higher in front of you to fully protect you. I don’t train warriors that get punched in the face.” 

“What exactly did they teach you in the Night Court?” The breath from Devlon’s chuckle ghosted across my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. 

I leaned back. “I don’t know. What are you teaching me?”

Devlon quickly let go of me and walked to stand in front of me again. “This isn’t the Night Court. This is Illyria,” he said gruffly.

I’d gotten so used to simply calling Illyria the Night Court when I lived in Velaris that I forgot how most Illyrians felt about being considered part of the Night Court. It obviously struck a bad cord in Devlon which was not my intention in the slightest. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you. It was a poorly worded joke that I won’t make again.” 

A small, soft smile graced Devlon’s face. “Thank you.” He clapped his hands together. “Now, show me what you got.”

“Ugghhh.” A loud groan passed my lips as I flopped into a dining chair in the kitchen. I hadn’t embarrassed myself at training but Devlon sure didn’t take it easy on me. He worked on my reaction time and defensive stance because of my supposed ‘sloppy technique,’ his words not mine.

I munched on some fruit my family had bought before returning to Velaris as I waited for Emerie. She wanted to swing by to discuss Vex’s shift in personality before we visited Balthazar. She’d been so busy training the Illyrian females and helping out Nesta’s Valkyries that she’d yet to see Balthazar, much to her dismay. 

Knock. Knock. I sprang up almost knocking over the fruit bowl as I ran to get the door for Emerie. Zephyr’s head popped up at the noise and into the window that connected the cabin and his stable. I grabbed the handle and threw the door open while simultaneously speaking, “thank goodness you showed up I’m dying to talk about this Vex stuff.” But it wasn’t Emerie standing on the other side of the door. “Oh. Sorry. I thought you were Emerie,” I said to Devlon, my face heating in embarrassment. 

“No worries.” Devlon awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah. May I come in?”

“Sure,” I stepped aside to allow Devlon through. I plopped back into my seat at the table continuing to munch on my snack, hoping he wouldn’t notice my hands shaking. Devlon sat in the chair across from me. He clasped his hands together and leaned against the table. “Am I in trouble or something? You look a little pissed.” I couldn’t help but worry about all the reasons he could be here. “Is it about this morning? I really do apologize. I didn’t mean to imply—.”

Devlon cut me off. “Mira, calm down, I’m not mad at you. Rhysand stopped by after training.” Well that explained the sour look on Devlon’s face. Everyone and their mother knew that the two didn’t get along on a good day and since the hunting accident they’d been on less than friendly terms. So, I’m sure their meeting went poorly. “He’s demanding that I do a border check. I’m leaving tomorrow for a border camp in the mountains and you are coming with me.” 

My jaw dropped. I definitely wasn’t expecting that. “As the Night Court emissary to Illyria, it makes sense that you accompany me and report back to Rhysand,” he continued.

“That makes sense, I guess.” Under normal circumstances, I would be annoyed that no one told me sooner, but this was why Rhysand sent me here in the first place. “How long will we be gone?”

“Shouldn’t be longer than three days, hopefully, although I’m sure Rhysand will drop another surprise on us,” Devlon grumbled.

“As long as I don’t get attacked by a giant cat creature again, I’m fine.” 

Devlon rubbed the back of his neck again, the muscles in his arm flexing. “I’m going to try my hardest to prevent that from happening again.” His gaze was piercing and filled with sincerity. I knew Devlon felt bad about the attack. Despite his obvious distaste for me before, Nesta said he’s stopped by every day after the attack to check on my progress and to see if anything was needed. Devlon’s eyes left mine and flicked to Zephyr in the corner. “Do you mind riding Zephyr? I mean, I assume that’s fine, but I just wanted to make sure. My sister is coming with and I can’t really carry you both that far,” Devlon rambled. It was kind of adorable. 

“You have a sister?”

Devlon looked confused at my question. Apparently I was supposed to know that he had a sister. “I assumed you knew already. She let you in when you came to my house to apologize.” So the stunningly beautiful female was Devlon’s sister not a significant other. Well that cleared things up. 

Zephyr squawked from his window. “Well I think he just answered your question,” I chuckled.

“Apparently so,” Devlon said. “How have you both been?” Devlon eyed Zephyr suspiciously. 

Excited to talk about Zephyr, I shot out of my chair and made my way over to him. I reached into a sack hanging next to the window and brought out a handful of Zephyr’s favorite treats. Zephyr devoured them in record time. Devlon looked shocked that I still had fingers. “Really good. We are learning how to fly together. Thankfully, Zephyr is incredibly patient with me clutching tightly onto his feathers.” I gently stroked his beak and he nuzzled my hand in return. 

I peered at Devlon who was still sitting at the table. “Do you want to pet him?”

Devlon gulped. “Is he ok with that?” Zephyr let out a squawk in reply. 

“He said yes,” I said. One of the first things I’d learned about Zephyr was what a majority of his different squawks meant, it just clicked in my mind. 

Devlon cautiously walked towards Zephyr. “If I lose a finger, I’m blaming you.”

I chuckled. “Oh suck it up. You are going to be fine. Now slowly reach your hand out but stop a couple inches from his beak. He’ll meet you halfway.”

Devlon did as directed. Zephyr reached his head forward and snuffled at Devlon’s hand. Approving of Devlon, Zephyr nudged his hand. Devlon gently pet his beak and up toward the top of his head. “I feel like Cyrus and Zephyr would get along well. Especially when Cyrus gets even bigger,” I said.

Devlon snorted. “I’m pretty sure Zephyr might accidentally crush Cyrus. Or, Cyrus would relentlessly annoy Zephyr,” Devlon said.

“Zephyr wouldn’t hurt a thing.” Devlon shot me a knowing look. “Ok that’s a lie but he wouldn’t hurt Cyrus, I promise.”

“Pinky promise?” Devlon reached out his pinky finger towards me. Seems like Vex wasn’t the only one being uncharacteristically nice these days.

I wrapped my pinky around his. “Pinky promise.”

Zephyr was restless by the time I fully healed, hence why we now stood at the edge of the highest drop near Windhaven. My hand burrowed deeper into his feathers as I leaned forward, surveying the long drop to the bottom.

“That’s a long drop buddy. Guess it’s good you have wings huh,” I laughed at my own dumb joke. Zephyr lightly nipped at my hand, not impressed with my jokes.

“Well, I’m going to be right over here while you stretch your wings,” I turned to sit on a nearby boulder but Zephyr clutched my sleeve in his beak, stopping me.

“What,” I asked. Zephyr let out a low pitched squawk motioning towards his back. “Oh no, no, no, no. That is so not happening. I’ll fall off.” Zephyr responded by using his head to push me towards his back. Stubborn creature. Huffing, I quickly threw my leg over his back, settling my legs right under his wings.

“If I fall, it’s on you.” The wind whipped around us as Zephyr steadily approached the precipice. Zephyr’s black-tipped wings snapped out to their full height. Before I could marvel at the sight of his fully outstretched wings, Zephyr brought them tightly into his body. Then, we were free-falling. I slammed forward and threw my arms around his neck letting out an oomf at the impact. Legs clenched and arms rigid, I held on for dear life.

Whoosh. Zephyr banked right, caught an updraft, and unfurled his wings. With two heavy beats, we rose into the sky and leveled out. The cliff we once stood on was now far below us. Zephyr let out a loud squawk. Seems someone was happy to be flying again.

Zephyr’s excitement was infectious and I was soon loosening my death grip on his feathers. Quickly, I was reminded why I enjoyed flying with Lord Devlon, the freedom. I’d envied the Illyrians because they could always feel this way. It was intoxicating. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath in, enjoying the crispness in the air. Surrendering to the freedom of flying, I relaxed and enjoyed the moment as Zephyr flew.

The sun was high in the sky when Zephyr and I made our way through Windhaven to the cabin. Before my sisters left the other day, we made cookies together just like we had as little kids. Instead of eating all the leftover cookies, I’d decided to bring some to Balthazar when I visited him today.

After freshening up, I walked into the medical cabin. It wasn’t a very hospitable place. I felt bad Balthazar had been here so long. The floors were a dirtied white color and the walls were stark white. Four beds lined both sides of the cabin. Each separated by a partition. My eyes were immediately drawn to Balthazar who was sitting up in bed at the back of the cabin. Shockingly, Vex was asleep in a chair next to his bed. I shot Balthazar a questioning look. He responded by simply shrugging and smiling.

Vex jerked awake from the sound of me dragging a chair towards the Balthazar’s bed.

“Sorry,” I said. Vex simply shook his head, muttered something about food and walked out of the med cabin.

“Has he been here the whole time?” I asked, placing the cookies in Balthazar’s lap.

Balthazar scooped up the bag and popped two cookies into his mouth. Someone was hungry. “No, he left a few times,” Balthazar responded through a mouthful of cookie. Well this was an interesting turn of events of I wasn’t expecting.

“Well I’m glad you seem to be feeling better,” I laughed as Balthazar shoved another cookie into his mouth. “In all seriousness, I’m glad to see you’re ok. I was terrified it was going to take too long to get you back to camp.”

Balthazar swallowed his cookie and smiled. “Right back at you. I heard about the attack. Seems like we both had a shitty hunting trip.”

I scoffed as I put my feet up on Balthazar’s bed. “You could say that again. I don’t think I’m going on another hunting trip any time soon.”

Balthazar chuckled. “I can’t blame you. The Steppes suck sometimes.”

“So how long are you on bedrest for,” I asked.

“Another week. Unfortunately you won’t get to see this amazing face bright and early every morning.”

“What will I ever do without you,” I crooned.

“Perish,” Balthazar said with a completely straight face. Then he cracked, letting out a booming laugh and I quickly joined in.

Vex came back shortly after that, arms laden with food to share. We spent the next few hours eating and talking. Vex was surprisingly nice despite his past behavior. I’d actually enjoyed his company. After awhile, Balthazar started to get tired so I decided to head back to the cabin. I’d just exited the med cabin when a shout from behind stopped me in my tracks.

“Hey, Mira,” I swiveled around and saw Vex jogging towards me. “I just wanted to apologize to you for my behavior. I was a dick and judged you without knowing you. And I’m sorry about the hunting trip. I truly wouldn’t have left you alone if it wasn’t necessary.”

My jaw dropped. Did he just apologize to me? Big, bad Vex apologized? Wow.

“Umm thanks Vex. Just so you know I don’t hold what happened in the forest against you. I could tell Balthazar was in a life or death situation. You made a choice and probably saved Balthazar’s life as a result.” I gave Vex a reassuring smile before we said goodbye.

I was restless when I got back to the cabin. My fingers constantly drummed against the table and I kept re-reading the same lines in my book. Vex’s apology kept running through my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Training was the best option to clear my head.

Loud clangs echoed from the training ring as I approached. A sword was clutched in Lord Devlon’s hand as he attacked a training dummy with precise, strong slashes. The muscles in his arms flexed with the strength of his blows. His wings moved with his body, providing balance when needed.

It was… impressive. I’d never seen Lord Devlon train before. For such a large male, he moved with amazing fluidity and grace. He was light on his feet as he spun and dipped around an inanimate enemy. The sword was an extension of his arm. The movements were precise yet beautiful. This was the trainer and commander of the Illyrian Legion. Honestly, it was pretty hot.

“What are you doing here so late,” Lord Devlon yelled across the training ring. I approached Lord Devlon as he sheathed the sword down his back.

I shrugged. “Restless.”

Lord Devlon nodded. “He’s going to be fine you know. Just needs more rest.”

I sighed and fell back into the fence behind me, rubbing a hand down my face. “I know. I was just so scared for him. And then I couldn’t see him for a week cause I needed to heal.”

A heavy thunk sounded as Lord Devlon leaned against the fence beside me. “I get it, I do. Seeing Vex drag Balthazar’s limp body through the sky just reminded me of all the warriors who died against Hybern. Fortunately, he arrived quickly and our medics were able to get to work on him immediately.”

I shifted slightly, looking Lord Devlon in the eye. “He reminded you of his father didn’t he? Balthazar said you were close.”

Lord Devlon leaned further into the fence, tilting his head up to the sky and releasing a deep breath. “Castor was my right-hand before he died. To me, he was more than a talented warrior and strategist,” a soft smile crossed Lord Devlon’s face as he talked. “Castor was my father’s best friend and when he died, Castor stepped up. He mentored me and helped me become the leader I am today.”

Despite everything between us, I reached over and grabbed Devlon’s hand, trying to comfort him. “He sounds like an amazing male. And he seemed to do a decent job with you,” I snickered. Devlon looked over, tears sparkling in his bright eyes, and squeezed my hand. In that moment, Devlon presented a tiny piece of him, and it was beautiful.