amor deliria nervosa

She’d almost asked Rhys or Mor to winnow her to the camp, the weight of the muffins and pies too heavy, but they didn’t know about her frequent visits to the remote location– none of her family did– and she really, really didn’t want to answer the questions that would surely arise.

It wasn’t that she meant to keep it a secret forever. But this was her thing, that gave her a purpose she’d never had before, not even when she started gardening as a child, or when she picked up baking with Nuala and Cerridwen all those months ago. She wanted to keep it for herself for a while, just a bit longer.

So Elain told Cassian she was going to a house to help its owner with this overgrown ivy that gave no sign of going away anytime soon, secretly getting into a carriage that would take her to her destination. 

“Good morning, Mr. Garth,” Elain called out to the driver. The man– male, she reminded herself– slightly turned his head her way in greeting, the white and gray in his hair noticeable in this light. Garth smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling.

“Good morning to you, too, Miss Elain,” he said cheerfully. Then he took notice of the baked goods she was carrying. “By the Cauldron, Miss, if you’d told me you were bringing stuff with you I’d have picked you up near your house,” he exclaimed.

“No,” Elain hastily said, causing Garth’s eyebrows to shoot up his forehead. She hurried to clarify, “I just meant, there was no need. A little exercise is good for me, or at least that’s what my older sister says.”

The older man chuckled. “That’s what my mate says, too.”

Elain’s stomach churned at the word, but waved it off with a humming sound.

Soon, they reached her destination. The magical scenery of Velaris faded to harsh weather, the snow thick as it fell and covered the ground. Her heart squeezed at the sight, her blood screaming at her to hurry.

She’d already opened her door by the time the carriage came to a stop, quickly gathering the pies and muffins before setting off to the small building, not before leaving a few coins to Garth, to his never-ending protests.

Elain struggled to open the heavy wooden doors while making sure the food wouldn’t fall. She had just made the decision to knock and pray someone would hear, when someone opened it for her.

She looked up to see Carys’ bright, sweet smile flashing at her. Elain couldn’t help her own as she looked at her friend. “Thank you,” she said.

“Don’t worry, El,” Carys replied. “I see you made good on your promise,” she pointed at what she was carrying.

Elain nodded. “Yes. I feared the children would send me away if I came empty handed,” she whispered, eyes gleaming with joy.

Carys laughed with her, and together they walked to the dining room, where she knew the kids were awaiting breakfast.

Elain had first heard of the orphanage when she was assisting an elderly lady with her garden. The female had invited her in for tea and told her all about her granddaughter who was volunteering at an orphanage slightly outside the city. She’d explained about the high number of children who had lost their parents in the war and had no other family that could take them in. Elain had left with a tears-stricken face and her heart shattered in a million little pieces. Two weeks later, she’d met with the female’s granddaughter, Carys.

Carys had welcomed her, showing her the place and introducing her to the little ones. Elain had almost started crying as she met them, but she was quick to bat her tear away, Carys’ instructions sounding loud and clear in her head. Never let them see you cry. All they need is a feeling of normalcy. Tears are often associated with the loss they suffered.

Five months later, Elain was now a volunteer, too. She came by at least three times a week, four if she managed it. She helped feed them, bathe them; she played with them and brought them on walks. The kids adored her, almost as much as she did them.

As she stepped into the room, several heads turned to her. So many, too many babies didn’t have a place to call home. Her heart constricted in her chest at the thought. Elain knew most of them would never find their forever home, would grow up in this place until they reached maturity. She only hoped that by that time, the kindness and affection the volunteers had shown them during their childhood, would shape them into good people.

 “Miss Elain!” Many cried out, launching themselves at her and Carys. The two young females hugged them all as best as they could, but soon the children noticed what they were carrying. Gasps filled the room.

“Pies! You remembered, Miss Elain” A little girl exclaimed excitedly. Elain smiled back at her and nodded.

As soon as the pies and muffins were placed on a few tables, Elain and Carys were immediately forgotten. They watched in amusement as the kids all but flung themselves at the baked goods, devouring everything. It was a good thing Elain had already cut the cakes in slices.

Carys went to help the smaller children, who were on the verge of crying their lungs out at the thought of not getting something, too. Elain was about to follow her, when something in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

Under one of the unused tables, a little boy crouched. His little legs were bunched up to his chest, his eyes red and terrified. His wings were tucked in tight, as though he feared brushing them against any surface.

His eyes locked on hers as Elain slowly walked to him. His hazel eyes widened even more. He began scooting backward when he saw her approaching. She stopped dead in her tracks a few feet away from him, and raised her hands in a placating manner.

“It’s alright,” Elain soothed. “I only wanted to say hi to you.”

The child didn’t say anything in return.

“My name is Elain,” she greeted him, uncaring of his silence. It wasn’t the first time a small one refused to speak. This one couldn’t be older than four. Elain wondered if he even knew how to speak. “Do you want me to bring a muffin? Or would you rather a slice of apple pie? We even have a blueberry one, if you prefer.”

He looked at her hesitantly. She smiled, trying to reassure him there were no wrong answers. After a few minutes of unblinking staring, he gave a single nod. 

“That’s great! I’ll bring you each of everything. Or do you want to be with your friends?” He shook his head vigorously, like the thought terrified him. Elain smiled at him in answer.

When she returned less than two minutes later, the boy was still in the same position. Elain carefully sat down on the floor, handing him the food. He reached out just as carefully. He seemed to study which one he wanted to eat first, weighing the choice in his head.

It was then that she noticed it. His wings had scars on them. Elain swallowed, willing her face to remain the same, yet a noise escaped her. His little head jerked up and he noticed what she was looking at. He tried to tuck in his wings even more, pain flashing across his features. Her heart began bleeding.

“Can you tell me your name? I need to give this beautiful face a name,” she asked him, her voice tremulous. 

He didn’t say anything for so long that Elain believed he didn’t want to share this information with her. She opened her mouth, but a quiet, young voice stopped her. “Uri.” 

“That’s such a beautiful name. Thank you for telling me,” Elain said, her hands shaking. The corner of the boy’s mouth quirked up at her words. “How old are you, Uri?”

He looked at his hands, then held up four fingers. “Wow, you’re such a big boy!”

This time, his smile was wide, bright. It took all the control she’d mastered over the years to hold the tears in.

They spent hours crouched under the table, conversing quietly, away from prying eyes. Well, it was mainly Elain who spoke. She told him about her sisters, her parents and her new family. She told him all about gardening and baking, of how her friends, Nuala and Cerridwen, had helped her when she was sad. He retreated into himself when she asked about his family or his past. The blood in her veins went ice cold as millions of possibilities ran through her mind. So she talked about herself, making him laugh and gasp and smile. At some point, Uri began rubbing his tired eyes, stopping mid sentence to yawn.

Elain opened her arms. “Do you feel sleepy, sweet boy?”

He nodded. 

“Do you want me to tuck you in?” 

He seemed to hesitate, before slowly crawling into her warm embrace. Elain hugged him to her, mindful of his damaged wings. She got up with his arms tightly hugging her neck. She felt him tense as they walked past two male volunteers. They smiled at him, and Uri began shaking slightly. Elain tightened her hold on him and made it to the bedroom.

She gently laid him under the covers, caressing his hair and landing a kiss on his forehead. She smiled when she saw his cheeks coloring. “Have a nice nap, Uri.”

His hand shot out from under the covers to grab her wrist. Elain’s eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “What’s wrong, sweet boy?”

He mumbled something. “I’m sorry, Uri, I didn’t get that.”

Uri took a deep breath, like it was an effort to get the words out. “Stay. Don’t go,” his voice was quiet, but steady. Elain’s heart puffed up before squeezing tight. She sat down on the tiny bed, his hand still on her wrist. 

“That’s fine. Do you want me to tell you a story?” She asked him as she stroked his cheeks.

He nodded, nuzzling her hand. So Elain began narrating to him a story her father used to tell her when she was a child, when nightmares wouldn’t allow her any sleep. It was a tale of hope, of love, of friendship.

Uri fell asleep quickly, his hand still touching her. The sight warmed her soul, and it was painful to pry it and gently lay it on the bed.

She silently closed the door behind her and went in search of Carys. The black haired female was playing with some of the older kids when Elain tapped her on the shoulder. Her smile slid off her face as she noticed Elain’s pale face. “What happened?” She asked, alarmed.

“What do you know of Uri?”

Carys furrowed her brows. “Uri?” Her eyes cleared with understanding a few seconds later. “Oh, you’re talking about the Illyrian boy.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t know much. We found him hiding beneath a tree a couple days ago. He was blue from the cold, we thought he was… Anyway, he hasn’t said much since we brought him here.”

Elain could feel new tears threatening to spill. “We need to do something about his wings,” she stated, as though she would allow no alternative.

Carys nodded. “The Illyrians aren’t forthcoming with their help. I was thinking about sending a letter to the High Lord, hoping he’d see it and provide us help soon.”

Elain shook her head no. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of this, I know who to call.”

When she left hours later, her body heavy with stricken worry, she instructed Garth to take her to a different address from the usual one. He gave her a curious look, but didn’t comment on it. 

The cobblestone was slippery outside, the weather bleak like Elain was feeling. A cold wind gave her skin bumps, and she wrapped her cloak tighter around herself. She knocked on the door, then knocked again, this time louder, when no one answered. “Open up. I know you’re in here.”

Silence, before she heard light steps from the other side of the door, which opened a few instants later. 

Azriel’s hair was ruffled, the shirt he had on wrinkled. His hazel eyes, so alike Cassian’s, so alike Uri’s, were red from sleep. His posture, though, was stiff, giving away his unease at having her at his house.

Elain had discovered it by accident, and Az had made her swear she wouldn’t reveal it to their family. She’d nodded, pleased at knowing one of his secrets when he knew so many about all of them. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked her, worry clouding his features. 

“What does it mean when an Illyrian’s wings have scars on them? Is it normal for them to hurt?”

Azriel’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“If an Illyrian has scars in his wings, is it normal that–” she repeated, but Azriel interrupted her.

“Where is this coming from? Whose wings are scarred? Did something happen to Rhys or Cass?”

She quickly shook her head. “No, no. They’re fine. It’s…”

When Elain had made the decision to come here, she’d understood she would have to share this part of her life with at least someone else. Her comfort couldn’t come before a child’s health and safety. So she took a deep breath, and told Azriel everything.

He listened carefully to what she had to say. He always had, as though her words were his new law, forbidding him from deviating from them. Az had always made her feel sacred, important, strong. She spent her night wondering what had changed, when it did. She hadn’t found the answer yet, her tear-stained pillows proof of it.

Az ran a hand on his face when she finished speaking. “What happened to him?”

Elain sighed sadly. “I don’t know. He refuses to talk about his past. It took me hours to get him to tell me where he comes from.” She told him Uri’s camp’s name, and saw him clench his hands into tight fists. 

“I need to see him, so I can tell the healer what he needs,” Azriel explained.

She bit her lip. “I don’t know that that’s possible. I think… I think a male figure in his life hurt him badly. Might be the reason why his wings look like that.” She recounted his reaction to the two males. Azriel nodded his agreement. 

“Here’s what you need to do.”

-

The next day, Carys was surprised to see Elain back so soon. The latter explained what she planned to do. Carys let her go with a promise of calling for her if anything went wrong.

Uri was still in bed. He was sleeping, his face contorting in pain and anguish. Elain knew at once he was having a nightmare. Silently, she reached his tiny bed, the blue covers stained with tears. “Uri, wake up,” she whispered softly, not wanting to startle him. He didn’t wake. Ever so gently, Elain ran her knuckles on his cheek, all the while murmuring his name.

Slowly, Uri opened his eyes. Terror lined his features, and a sob escaped him. Elain kept caressing him, whispering words of comfort as he came to. He blinked, his eyes not as vacant and bleak as a few moments before, and finally noticed her. His cheeks reddened slightly. Elain watched as Uri tried to burrow himself even further under the covers. She smiled and giggled. “Hello, sweet boy. Do you want to give me a hug?”

He seemed to hesitate, looking at her in what she almost called self consciousness, but he crawled out from under the sheets and onto her laps, like he had done the previous day. Elain rubbed his back where she didn’t risk touching his little wings. “Should we get ready for the day and then eat breakfast?” She asked him, already walking toward the bathroom. Uri nodded, his head resting on the crook of Elain’s neck. 

She took great care of his pained wings as she helped him bathe, as she helped him wear some clothes Azriel had given her. Elain smiled at the older Illyrian’s thoughtfulness.

As Uri finished his breakfast– some leftover blueberry muffins from yesterday– Elain recounted what Azriel had said to her the night before. “I need to examine your wings,” she said. Uri stiffened. “I know, I know, sweet boy, but my– my friend has wings like yours, and they were hurt, too. He knows how to fix them, he told me how to. Can I take a look?”

Elain held her breath. She wasn’t going to force him to accept if he didn’t want to– only the Cauldron knew what had been done to him– but she really, really hoped he would. Seeing those injuries on a child made her blind with rage, and all Elain wanted to do was to take his pain away.

“Fine.” His small, child-like voice was barely audible.

Elain let out a sigh of relief. “I’m only going to take a look today. Tonight, I’ll meet with my friend and he’ll tell me what we need to do to fix these beautiful wings,” she explained. “I already know they’re going to be majestic when you get older,” she booped his nose.

Uri blushed and giggled. Elain laughed with him. They played a while together, before they found a secluded place where Elain could assess the state of his wings.

She had to swallow the fury and tears at the sight of what had been done to them, to him. His wings had laceration and burn scars. Someone had cut and burned them. Her hands closed in tight fists at her sides, her mind swimming with thoughts of hurting whoever was responsible.

“My papa doesn’t like me much,” Uri’s words stopped her fuming. Elain glanced in the mirror, caught his eyes. They were in a bathroom that was long unused, the plumbing required too expensive to afford. 

“Why do you say that?” She asked, even as she kept checking his wings out.

Uri shrugged. “He tells me all the time. He says he only wanted to be with my mother, that I wasn’t supposed to be here.” The way he said it, like it was normal for a parent to utter such things… Elain had to take a deep breath to quell the rage simmering in her blood.

“That’s not very nice, is it?”

Uri again shrugged. 

“What happened to him?” She asked, and immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say. His face shut down, his body tensed, and he wriggled to be put down. “I’m tired, Miss Elain. Can I go sleep?”

Elain cursed herself, but nodded anyway. She went with him to his bedroom, stayed until he fell asleep. Then, she all but ran outside, Garth already waiting for her. During the long minutes of the ride, she thought back on Uri’s words, what she had seen. Her vision was red, and when she finally got out of the carriage, she pounded on Azriel’s door.

This time, he didn’t bother pretending he wasn’t inside. 

“El–” Azriel started, but Elain’s anguished voice interrupted him.

“He burned him, Az. He cut him, he hurt his own son. How could a parent, anyone hurt a child?” Her voice broke, and Azriel’s concerned face appeared blurry to her.

Elain felt wetness on her cheeks just as Azriel’s scarred hand rested on her shoulder. She brought a hand to her face and wiped away the tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed.

Azriel’s other hand lightly touched Elain’s chin, lifting her head up. “It’s going to be alright, lo–Elain,” he murmured. 

Their eyes locked, and the tenderness in his had her nodding. Something tightened low in her belly.

“Now, take a deep breath and repeat what you just said, slowly.”

Elain did as he asked.

She watched as his hazel eyes, so much like Uri’s, darkened to the point they resembled a depthless pit the more she explained what the Illyrian child had told her and what she’d seen. The next time Azriel spoke, the ice in his voice sent a shiver down Elain’s back. “Do you know where his father,” the last word was said with particular vitriol. “lives? His name?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t say. He only said that his father doesn’t like him. The things that male has said to him… I’m sick just thinking about it.”

Azriel’s eyes flashed with so much fury that told Elain exactly what he thought of the male, and what he planned to do to him when he found him. Because he would find him, be it the last thing he ever did. And, Elain mused, she would join him in letting Uri’s father know what, exactly, he was worth. 

“Do you think,” Azriel’s voice brought her back to the present. “that the child would be comfortable around me?”

Elain inclined her head. “I’m not sure. He gave me the impression that he’s wary around males. Why?”

There was nothing, absolutely nothing on Azriel’s face as he said, “My own brothers did the same to me when I was slightly older than him. I think it would be best for him if he heard the healing process from someone who went through the same hurt as him.”

Her heart stopped beating for a while. When it picked up again, it did so with a rage that burned scarlet. She’d known something had happened to him, his scarred hands proof of it. But never would she have thought it had been done to him by his family–

Her horror and wrath must have shown on her face because Azriel asked, his brows furrowed, “Feyre didn’t tell you?”

Elain let out a distressed noise. “What— What happened to them?”

Azriel’s eyes shut down. “You don’t want to know.”

She bared her teeth, something wild clawing at her chest. “I do. If they still breathe, I want to end them myself.”

Azriel’s eyes widened. One of those beautiful, scarred hands splayed on his chest, where his heart lay beneath. “Elain—” He rasped out. 

They’d moved into the tiny living room as they’d talked. Now Azriel let himself fall on the gray sofa, panting.

Elain reached out, concerned. “Are you alright?” She asked, but as she made to touch him, he jerked away like a spooked animal. 

Her hand froze midway. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, confused. Elain didn’t even know what she was apologizing for.

Azriel shook his head. “I need… Let me know if Uri’s fine to meet me. I have somewhere to go.” He wouldn’t even meet her eyes.

It was like that night again, she thought bitterly as she exited his house, not even bothering to say goodbye. 

Her heart constricted in her chest as she realized how stupid she’d been to come to him. She should have gone to Rhys, or Cassian, or even Madja. Her mind betrayed her by replaying that fateful night all those months ago.

Elain closed the door of the carriage and banished those thoughts.

-

She went back to the orphanage a couple of days later. She inquired more about Uri, but Carys had learned nothing more about him. “I can show you where we found him, though,” she offered. Elain readily accepted, scanning the area keenly, memorizing it down to the smallest details, in order to be able to describe it to Az, or, if necessary, to allow Rhys a clear view if he needed to go through her mind. 

Her hands closed into two tight fists as she noticed there was no shelter in the area, just a few trees under which Uri had surely sought refuge. 

“Sweet boy, I have to ask you something,” Elain said now, while she and Uri were playing with a few blocks in the orphanage’s playroom.

He glanced up at her. His wings were touching the ground, but he didn’t seem to mind. She remembered her younger sister, Feyre, once explaining that it was a profound shame for an Illyrian’s wings to drag on the ground, a sign of weakness. Elain wondered if Uri had ever been taught how to fly. Somehow, she didn’t think he had.

“My friend would like to meet you,” she started slowly. His shoulders immediately bunched up. “You know how you told me your father doesn’t like you much? His brothers didn’t either, and they hurt him badly. He wants to help you.”

Uri didn’t say anything as he went back to his blocks. Elain barely held her sigh in. She knew it was a long shot. She’d seen how he reacted around males, she should have expected his, albeit silent, refusal. Hopefully, Madja knew how to help him, or maybe Azriel could explain to them the best–

“Will you be there with me?” Uri’s small, quiet voice interrupted her thoughts.

Elain settled her eyes on him again, and watched as his attention was wholly on her. “Of course. You’re my friend, now, Uri. You’ll never get rid of me,” she answered solemnly even as her fingers tickled his sides. He giggled, and it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. Her laughter soon joined his, and for the first time in months, years, her heart felt light.

As their mirth slowly trailed off, Uri gave his consent to meeting Azriel.

“That’s good,” Elain nodded. “You will like him. He’s quiet like you, but his heart is full of love to give.” It was just that he hadn’t met the right person to give all that love to, Elain thought wistfully. She’d once believed she was that person, and what a fool she’d been. Her heart ached at the knowledge, but she hoped he would find her one day soon. 

Uri’s eyes flashed with interest at that, but he didn’t voice his curiosity. He went back to playing, throwing her glances when he thought she wouldn’t notice.

When she got home hours later, she let Azriel know through the twin wraiths, Nuala and Cerridwen, about Uri’s decision. Her friends could tell something was bothering her, somehow knowing she didn’t want to talk about it. Nonetheless, they spent time with her, trying to cheer her up.

She may not have the love of her life in her arms, Elain mused, but at least she had this. And much more. She had her family, her friends, her job, the orphanage, and Uri. She had much to smile for, to be happy about.

-

“Just a heads up. He doesn’t talk much, and he needs his time before opening up. That also includes telling you if he wants fruit or cereal for breakfast,” Elain warned three days later.

The shadowsinger nodded, even though his eyes were focused on the small building, assessing all the work that was visibly needed. 

“We’re hoping to save enough money to fix… everything,” she answered his silent question with a laugh.

He swung his gaze back to hers and arched an eyebrow. Elain shrugged. “We’re reaching the goal soon, and then some more. I might have put the request on top of the pile of papers Feyre and Rhysand have to go through. I might have also added my name there.”

She could have sworn his lips twitched, amusement dancing in his eyes. Her heart constricted with the need of having him.

Elain cleared her throat, aware that a flush had spread on her neck. She could have sworn Azriel’s ears were tinged red, too. “Let’s go meet Uri.”

The child in question lay on his tiny bed. He appeared to be sleeping, his face peaceful. Too peaceful. Elain knew at once he was faking it. She turned to Azriel, mirth in her eyes, and saw the understanding and glee on his features.

“Oh, Azriel, he’s sleeping,” she faux-whispered. “We’ll have to come back on another day. He’s sleeping.”

Azriel shook his head. “That’s too bad, I brought him a present, but I guess I’ll have to give it to him some other time,” he said, doing his best to sound serious.

Uri tensed, cracking one eye open.

Elain interlaced her arm with Azriel’s. “Let’s go, you can give it to him next time.”

She made to open the door, but Uri’s “I’m awake, Miss Elain” stopped her. Exchanging an amused glance with Azriel, they both turned to him.

“You’re awake!” Elain exclaimed, sounding surprised. “Uri, this is Azriel, my friend I told you about. Azriel, this is Uri, my newest friend,” she introduced them.

The child nodded vigorously. His gaze shifted to Azriel, and some of his excitement dimmed. He seemed to study him, taking in his size, his wings. His weariness slowly eased off, leaving interest in what Az had said he had for him.

“Oh, yes,” the shadowsinger said, his shadows handing him a soft toy. It resembled him, the hazel eyes, the dark hair, the wings. It was an Illyrian toy.

Uri’s eyes flickered with something that looked a lot like yearning, though a hint of fear and hurt could be found in them, as though he wouldn’t allow himself to believe it was for him, that he deserved it.

“My mother gave it to me when I was your age. She’d made it herself, claiming it would give me strength and that one day I’d be tall and strong. I think it worked, what do you think?” 

Uri nodded, awe shining on his face. 

“I want you to have it. So when you feel like you need it, you can just hug him tight to your chest and borrow his strenght,” Azriel finished, offering the toy to the boy.

The young Illyrian grabbed it, holding it tight in his arms. Unwelcomed tears filled Elain’s eyes, and she had to look away.

“Thank you, Mr. Azriel,” replied Uri brightly.

Az only inclined his head.

“Right,” Elain caught their attention. “Uri, do you remember what I told you about Azriel?” She waited for his nod before continuing. “Do you think he could take a look at your beautiful wings?”

The small child hesitated, but after a furtive glance in Azriel’s direction – who was trying his best to make him feel at ease – he gave a small nod.

-

It was a painful process.

Azriel knew it would be. He’d gone through it all those centuries ago, except in that case he was Uri and in his stead was his mother. 

Uri was trying his best not to make any sound as Azriel grazed his wings, trying to assess how deep the damage went. 

“Can I touch your wings, Uri?” He’d asked.

The boy had been confused at the request. It had taken Az a few seconds to understand that it was due to never being asked for permission to be touched. He’d done his best to cloud the fury he’d felt in that moment, the last thing he wanted was to frighten the small child in front of him.

Azriel consulted with his shadows. The scars were countless, but mostly superficial, which was the preferred outcome he hoped for. 

He turned to Elain, whom his shadows had let him know was seated on a stool near the door, her attention solely on them, and gestured to her to come closer.

“It’s not going to take one day, or two, nor three. It’s going to take a while, a few weeks at the earliest. If we rush the healing, we could make things worse,” Az explained to the both of them. Elain nodded, Uri too young to fully understand what he was saying.

“One more thing,” he looked solely at Elain as he went on. “He can’t stay here. He needs a room only for himself, a bathroom with the things he needs, including his balm.”

“I won’t allow him to go back to his— to that place,” Elain growled.

It hurt looking at her, after yesterday’s revelation. The ferocity with which she defended a child that wasn’t her own, that she wasn’t related to… Cauldron damn him, it made him want her that much more.

Az quickly clarified, “That’s not what I’m saying. I think he should come home with you, El.”

The name slipped out, but she didn’t seem to notice. “What?”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s clear he feels safe around you, and I doubt he does with any of the other volunteers, does he?” At her shake of head, he nodded. “He needn’t feel crowded, and he might feel shame if the other kids, especially the older ones, witnessed his state” he added, lowering his voice so as not to be heard by Uri.

“I understand, I really do, but I just can’t bring a child to the river house! Nyx is only a few months old,” Elain explained, frustrated at the thought of failing Uri.

“What about the town house?” 

He watched as she contemplated his words. 

“I guess I could just tell Rhys that I need my space, that I need to figure some things out,” she bit her lip, deep in thought, and Azriel had to grind his jaw to stop the fantasies playing out in his head. 

“I will come by often, to heal him,” Azriel offered.

An emotion he couldn’t decipher – despite the years of spying and torturing information out of other people — crossed her face, but it was gone in the next blink of eyes. 

“That’s– That’s perfect,” replied Elain. Az didn’t need his shadows to know it was a lie. 

Uri agreed to go live with Elain when they sat him down and explained the situation to him. Az could have sworn he almost looked relieved at the thought of leaving the orphanage. Not that he could blame him. 

They began making arrangements, and a week later, Azriel dropped Elain and Uri in their new home. 

Something that wasn’t his shadows screamed at him that it was wrong to leave his— to leave Elain and Uri alone. That he belonged with them, that he was supposed to stand at their side, protecting them.

The urge was primal, and it left him breathless. It took all his training to not double over in pain.

He ignored it, though.

And so he went to that flimsy house he owned, alone, trying to force those traitorous thoughts out of his head.

-

Uri settled rather quickly, Elain reckoned. He’d been awed by the size of the house, the many rooms and all the comfort he could find in it. He loved spending time in front of the fire, or in the kitchen with Elain as she baked him his favorite desserts (blueberry anything).

But most of all, he loved his bedroom.

She and Azriel had spent a long while debating on how to decorate it, and in the end had settled on few things. The bed, appropriate for his age, had a dark oak bed frame, which went perfectly with the cobalt blue bedding Elain had insisted on getting, as it was similar to the one in the orphanage. The wardrobe matched the bed, like the bookshelves. Az had snuck in a rocking chair, too, blushing as he admitted to her that being cuddled by his mother in one had brought him a great deal of comfort when he was recovering. 

There were a few toys scattered on the floor, but they’d decided against buying him too many things. Elain planned on taking him shopping in the Rainbow of Velaris, giving him the choice to choose the things he liked— clothes, toys, shoes.

Uri had stared at her wide-eyed as she’d explained why he didn’t have many things as of yet, like it was too great a gift to even consider. 

Though he’d adjusted fairly well, he seemed to be always looking over his shoulders, as if he was expecting someone to be there. Shaking her head, Elain thought it was probably his father, the memory of him, of what he’d done, haunting him from so far away. 

They were baking a cake — lemon flavored this time, because Uri had shyly confessed he wanted to try it — when he broached the subject.

“When will Mr. Azriel come by?”

Elain paused. “I’m not sure. I guess soon,” was all she could offer.

Truth to be told, things between her and Az had been… strange. Ever since the day she’d come to his place, he’d acted oddly in her presence. She’d scrambled through her thoughts to see if she’d done anything to upset him, if perhaps she’d acted too familiar with him, but she’d come up empty. 

Maybe Rhys had telepathed upsetting news and that’s why he’d behaved that way. But it wouldn’t explain why that had persisted in the following days. It had been almost two weeks since that day, yet he still had trouble meeting her eyes.

The other option, the one that made her heart squeeze painfully, was that he’d still regretted that Solstice Night. 

Elain had been embarrassed for months on end by his rejection, barely being able to stay in a room with him, but now… Now, thanks to Nuala and Cerridwen’s help, she’d come to terms with the fact that he did not want her. At first, the words hurt her. She’d been sure her feelings were reciprocated, after all, but now she could say them almost painlessly. 

Perhaps Az hadn’t gotten over the embarrassment yet. All Elain cared was that his feelings for her — or the lack thereof — wouldn’t come in the way of Uri’s recovery. Deep down, she knew they wouldn’t, but his silence in the past days troubled her.

“Is he working?” Uri interrupted her thoughts.

“Umh?” Elain shook her head. “I’m not sure. Do you want me to ask?”

He looked confused at that. 

“What’s wrong?” 

It was his turn to shake his head. “Does he beat the bad guys and take them into the Prison?” He asked instead.

She smiled at that. “That’s Cassian’s job. But Az does help him at times, yes. He fought in the War,” she explained, piquing his interest. “Oh, yes. But Az mainly finds information about bad people, and forces them to confess their wrong doings.”

Uri clapped in youthful excitement. “I wanna be like him when I grow up.”

It was then that Elain noticed the tendrils of shadows coming in from the front door. 

A few moments later, Azriel appeared.

To people who didn’t know him, he looked perfectly impassive. But she had spent months looking at him, throwing him glances when she thought no one was looking, studying his perfect features, his silences — yes, there were different ones. She appreciated each one of them, loved the way his eyes tightened when he was worried about something, the way they brightened when he listened to Mor and Cassian’s bickering — his expressions. The one he was wearing now told her he’d heard Uri’s words. Told her they had moved something in him, their effect too great to be put into words.

“Az,” Elain breathed, and blindly saw Uri turn to him, too. 

“Good evening,” said Az, and even his voice betrayed the emotion he was trying his best to bury.

“Hi, Mr. Azriel.” Uri sounded timid. She smiled, well aware that it meant he looked up to the male, that he saw him as a role model.

“I already told you, little guy, just Azriel is fine,” said Az, ruffling the boy’s dark hair. The child blushed under the affectionate attention.

Right then, the Illyrian male looked straight at her. 

Her breath caught in her throat at the intensity with which he was looking at her. 

“Are you alright?” 

She nodded, confused at the question. The light in his eyes seemed to dim at her silent reply, leaving her even more puzzled.

But before she could mull his reaction over — which she totally added to the list of strange reactions she’d gathered from him in the past days — he announced, “I talked with the family’s healer, and we decided to add a salve to the regimen. That way, your wings will be able to heal without leaving any scars. What do you think, Uri?”

The boy looked at him, before his gaze slid down to the older male’s scarred hands. “Why didn’t you put it on your hands, too?”

Elain’s mouth hung open, and she shot Azriel a mortified look. But the shadowsinger’s attention was entirely on the Illyrian boy as he answered, “Because the people who hurt me made it so the scars could never be removed.” He seemed to notice Uri’s distress at that, because he bent to his eye level and added, “I got used to it. Plus, it scares the bad guys enough so that they will confess to everything rather quickly.”

Uri smiled. “So you can come by more often?”

Az paused. Then he nodded, slowly, as if his shadows had whispered something in his ears. 

Elain wondered at that, at the slightly surprised, soft expression on his face.

Yet it was gone in the next blink of eyes, his face turning impassive once again. 

She saw as he opened his mouth, about to make his leave, but Uri spoke up before he could. “Will you come by tomorrow, Mr. Azriel?”

Az hesitated. “I’m not sure.” He glanced at Elain, who shrugged. Uri needed a good male influence in his life. Azriel was one. “I– You see, I have to work–”

“You can come after. Right, Miss Elain?” He asked her.

She nodded. “We could go shopping. You’re in need of clothes, sweet boy.” 

Azriel sighed. He knew there was no arguing with the child who had him wrapped around his tiny finger.

Elain giggled a little, as if she could read the thought on his face. He glared at her, but there was no heat behind it. She smiled, and went back to the pie.

-

“I know, I know it hurts,” Elain murmured, fighting back her tears as Uri cried out for the fourth time.

One of the steps of the recovery included a salve to be applied on the scars on his little wings. It only needed to be applied three times, the tonic taking doing most of the work, yet it was painful. Az had warned them both, but nothing could have prepared Elain for the pure agony in Uri’s screams and cries. 

She wondered how his father could stand it as he hurt him, over and over again. It made the blood in her veins boil from the hot anger she felt.

Madja was applying the salve carefully, taking great care of his pain, while Elain and Azriel comforted him. Uri was clutching Az’s hand so tight, while his head was resting on Elain’s shoulders. She kept dropping kisses on it, but she knew nothing they did now would ease his pain.

Afterward, Elain gathered him in his arms and sat on the rocking chair Az had thoughtfully insisted they get. She was telling him a tale, one her father used to tell her when she was Uri’s age, all while drying his tears and murmuring soothing words.

Azriel sat on a nearby chair, listening raptly. His features were troubled with distress, for what had been done to the boy, for what he now had to go through. 

When Elain finally laid the child on his bed, who was fast asleep, her heart was heavy, and she knew Az’s was, top. She watched Uri, and she reached to smooth the furrows in his brows, pain still etched on his face even in sleep. Azriel dropped a kiss on his forehead, and left a stuffed toy next to him. A new present. He always left him something new after one of the healing sessions.

They got out of his room, and Elain managed a few steps before her legs failed.

She cried, silently, as she’d learned to when she was a girl. 

Strong arms wrapped around her, and she leaned her head back against the equally strong chest. She didn’t know how long they stayed in that position, as she tried her best to muffle her sobs and Az tried to calm her. At some point, she could have sworn she felt a tear drop on her hair.

It was the most vulnerable she had allowed herself to be.

-

 “Can I play with my toys?”

Elain looked at Uri. She was reading a gardening catalog, interested in finding new flowers to grow. 

Uri was supposed to study his letters, which was exactly what she told him.

“But I’m bored and tired, Elain. I’m hungry,” he complained.

One of the hardest things she’d had to learn, Elain found, was understanding when to give in to Uri’s requests, and when she needed to be firm. After almost a month, though, she thought she had the hang of it.

“No, but,” she added, when he started to make the face she knew meant he was ready to protest, “you can take a break from studying to have a healthy snack before Azriel comes for your flying lesson.”

Azriel had been clear from the start: his wings would never fully heal if he didn’t keep them in good condition, and that meant flying.

Today was going to be the first lesson, after more than two weeks since they last applied the salve and given him the tonic. 

Uri lowered his gaze to the ground, and didn’t say anything back. Elain furrowed her brows. When she’d first met Uri, his silences were common, his hesitation expected. But in the month and a half since he’d moved in with her, he’d started making his voice heard. He wasn’t scared of speaking his mind anymore, he’d throw tantrums as was expected for his age, he’d laugh so hard that tears came out from his eyes. 

So it was concerning to see him so… quiet, now. But what she learned above all was that he hated being pushed into talking. It usually brought a smile to her face, because he reminded her so much of Azriel. If she hadn’t met Cassian, she’d most likely think it was an Illyrian trait.

Elain watched him carefully as he ate, trying to gauge what was troubling him. 

He was still eating when Az appeared. Something akin to longing flashed in his eyes as he took them in, but it was gone in the next instant.

“Hi,” she greeted him with a smile, and he answered with one of his own. It brought a light flush to her cheeks. 

In the weeks they’d spent together, her infatuation for Azriel had grown stronger again. Well, it wasn’t like it had gone anywhere, but ever since his rejection a year ago, she’d tried to move on. She’d distanced herself from him, as he did the same, and she’d surrounded herself with her family and friends. But now, in this house, just the three of them… It was almost like he’d never broken her heart. Elain kept scolding herself, reminding herself that he did not want her that way. She tried to tell her heart how bad it hurt when he called their almost-kiss a mistake, but it wouldn’t listen. Azriel was the male she wanted, and she now knew that would never change.

“Hi, Azriel,” said Uri quietly. Az’s eyebrows raised at his gloomy tone, and he looked at Elain inquisitively. She raised her shoulders, silently telling him she didn’t know what happened. 

“Are you ready for our lesson?” He tried to cheer the Illyrian child up.

Uri burst into tears. 

It took both the adults by surprise, enough so that they didn’t react initially.

But then Azriel was by his side, holding the small boy to himself. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Uri wailed louder at that. 

Az kept rubbing his back, soothing him. Elain watched the two of them, her heart racing in her chest.

“I’m s-sorry,” Uri tried to say through his sobs.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I’m not good. I’m bad,” he kept crying.

“Why do you say that?” Az asked calmly, steadily.

“I can’t fly. I don’t know how to,” he whispered, ashamed.

The shadowsinger’s hands paused. He seemed frozen to the spot for a few beats, but in the next he said, almost growling, “You’re not bad for not knowing how to fly. It’s not your fault.”

Uri shuddered at that, though he stopped sobbing. A few tears kept rolling down his cheeks. 

“I was older than you when I learned how to fly,” Az confessed. “My step-mother wasn’t… nice, neither were my brothers. But my friends, my real brothers, they taught me how to fly. They were patient, and kind, and so I will be with you. And in a few centuries, when I’m old as withered and you young and fit, you’ll be a better flier than me. I promise,” he said solemnly.

Uri sniffled, but didn’t say anything for a long while.

“I wish you were my father,” he whispered, so low, that she knew she was able to hear him only thanks to her Fae hearing.

Azriel froze. He paled as he pulled back to stare at the little boy in his arms. Elain’s heart had soared in her throat at his words. She scrambled to find something to say, but Az beat her to it. “Me too, baby, me too.” Then, he hugged him back, and she was unsure who needed the hug more.

She left them to their sweet moment, and went back to her catalog. A while later, she heard the front door open and close. A quick glance at the window told her the two Illyrians had begun their lesson.

-

Though Elain had prepared dinner, Uri was too tired to even eat that night. Elain let it slide, as she had expected this and had given him substantial food before. She was about to ask him if he was ready for bed when he faced Azriel and asked him, “Will you read me my story tonight?”

Az froze. He glanced at Elain, a panicked, helpless look on his face.”I–”

“Maybe not tonight, sweet boy,” she intervened. Uri turned back to her, his brows furrowed. “Azriel is tired after training you all afternoon. He needs to rest,” she explained.

He seemed to hunch in on himself, mulling over her words. Then he straightened his spine, a clever glint in his eyes, his earlier tiredness seemingly vanished. “Then we’ll read to him!”

This time, both adults froze. They looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Elain lifted a shoulder. Azriel inclined his head. Her eyes widened slightly. His lips quivered. She gave a nod, his following shortly after.

Elain turned to Uri. “That’s a great idea. Let’s go get ready for bed, and tomorrow morning I’m making blueberry muffins.”

Both Illyrians looked at her with interest. She shook her head affectionately. She’d learned pretty quickly that they both loved blueberry muffins. Specifically, her muffins.

Uri clapped excitedly, and ran to his room. She grinned as her eyes followed him until he disappeared behind the corner. 

Az cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him. “I’m sorry for intruding.”

She shook her head. “You’re not. Uri likes you, he’s made it pretty clear, he wants to be around you,” she laughed softly. “I’m sorry for keeping you here. I know you probably have somewhere else to be, and–”

“I don’t.” He stepped closer to her.

Elain met his gaze. “Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that. Did that mean he wanted to be here? “Well, I’m glad then that we’re not…hindering any of your plans.” “You’re not.” He stepped even closer, until there was nothing but a breath between them.

“Good. That’s good.” She swallowed, her heart pulsing in her throat.

“It is. Good, I mean,” he said, his voice low, lower than she’d ever heard it. “Elain… I need to tell you something.”

Her heart started beating faster. “Oh?”

“Yes,” he murmured. “There’s something I should have told you a long ti–”

“Elain, Azriel, I’m ready,” Uri called out from his room.

They both turned to the sound, and that was when Elain noticed how closer they’d gotten. They jerked apart, and went to the Illryian child.

-

Az willed his thoughts away as he laid down on his bed.

He watched as Uri sat at his side, Elain at the foot of the bed. 

He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He thought he ought to be embarrassed, the Spymaster of the Night Court being read to sleep by a four-year-old, but… But he found he was willing to do whatever it took to put a smile on the boy’s face, and the female that was taking care of him. Because Elain was smiling, too, as she looked at Uri. The latter had a kid’s book open on his laps, and was staring at Az expectantly.

“I’m ready,” Azriel confirmed, and Uri nodded, satisfied.

And then he began to read.

It was an effort to keep his laughter in. A quick glance toward Elain told him that she, too, was struggling.

At four years old, Uri still didn’t know how to read — no doubt also thanks to his parents. The story he was telling tonight consisted of describing the pictures depicted in the book.

“Oh, and here’s a tall house. Wow, there’s a princess, too,” he gasped, excitedly. 

Az smiled at that, his heart content that Uri’s unease had slowly peeled away in the days he moved in with Elain. 

He lay there, and after a while he pretended to fall asleep.

“Elain, I think he’s sleeping,” Uri whisper-yelled.

“He sure is,” Elain agreed. “What do you think, shall we go to sleep, too?”

“Yes,” was the child’s answer.

A few seconds later, Az felt small lips press against his cheek. “Good night, Azriel. Sweet dreams,” said Uri against his skin.

Something warmed in Azriel’s chest at the words. His throat burned, and it took all the control he’d mastered over the years not to let that feeling spill.

“It’s your turn now, Elain,” Uri ordered.

“What?” He heard her ask, and Cauldron damn him, he needed to see the look on her face. 

“You need to kiss him goodnight.”

“I’m sure that’s not necessary, Uri,” she protested.

“But what if he gets a nightmare?”

He couldn’t see her, but he knew what she was thinking, what she was feeling. The knowledge came from a place inside him, somewhere he couldn’t touch, yet he knew was there.

So he braced himself for the touch of her lips as they pressed a kiss onto his cheek. 

It was a chaste kiss, yet Az nearly groaned out loud. His body tensed with the craving that overtook his body, the need of having her, in all the ways he’d thought of. And he’d spent a long while considering all the ways he wanted her.

“Have sweet dreams, Az,” she whispered, and then he felt them leave.

His name on her lips… It did things to him that he had never contemplated.

He got up, ever so silently made his way to the kitchen. While he waited for Elain, he began cleaning up the mess on the countertop.

A while later, Elain came into the room.

“You’re still here,” she breathed.

Azriel nodded, his gaze fixed on her. It was a damn effort to keep from reaching out and gathering her in his arms.

Az watched as she swallowed. Then she nodded, and asked him, “Do you have anything on his family?”

Azriel’s temper flared at her words, at the reminder. “Not yet. The Illyrian camps… There are many of them.”

She nodded. “I know.” Elain cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, for earlier. For the kiss,” she clarified, though there was no need.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” was all he said. 

“That’s good. I wanted to apologize in case it bothered you.”

He let out a low chuckle. “It didn’t.”

Her eyes flashed with resentment at his laugh. “It did last time.”

He stopped laughing.

-

Elain knew it was a low blow, but she hadn’t been able to hold the words in. She bit her lower lip as the silence between them stretched.

Azriel didn’t back down from her stare as he said, “El… It never bothered me. I wanted it. I wanted you.” He took a step toward her.

The truth in his words stunned her. Yet her heart crumpled in her chest. “Then why?” She fisted her hands, anger and confusion and hurt battling inside her. “Why did you say it was a mistake?”

He hesitated. She let out a hollow laugh. “Right.” She made to leave for her room, when a scarred hand stopped her.

“Rhys stopped me.” 

She whirled on him. “What.”

“Rhys stopped me,” he repeated, his hand still on her wrist. “There were too many things at play and I… I was a coward. I should have fought for you, and I didn’t. I’m a bastard.”

Her eyes burned. “So you let me believe you rejected me? That you didn’t want me? For a year?” She whispered, hurt clear in her voice.

He swallowed. “I’m a bastard,” he said again. “I don’t deserve you. I am nothing but a coward.”

Then, he did something she never would have expected him to do.

He went to his knees. “I am not worthy of your forgiveness, nor of your heart, Elain Archeron. But I’m selfish, and if you find it in yourself to give me both, I will greedily take them.” He grabbed her hands between his scarred ones. “I love you. Until I am nothing but ash scattered through the wind, I am yours.”

Her vision was blurry. “What changed,” she asked breathlessly.

Az was quiet for a few beats. Then, “I have always been in love with you. Please, never doubt that, I beg you. Even during all the months we’ve spent apart, my feelings for you never changed, never faltered.” He took a deep breath. “A month ago, when you barged into my house and you learned these scars came from my brothers… I felt it. I felt it snap.”

The air left her.

“I felt the mating bond between us snap.”

She thought about that day. She remembered how… feral she went as he told her what his brothers had done to him, his strange reaction as he all but kicked her out from his house. 

Ten months ago, Elain had rejected the mating bond with Lucien Vanserra. He’d done it, too, but they went beyond simple rejection. They’d cleaved it, just so that it would never haunt either of them again. 

Now, she was faced with another mating bond.

Azriel was still on his knees before her. “I don’t know how it’s possible, I’ve been trying to find answers, but it’s never happened before.” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t tell you,” he began. “Because we needed to get Uri settled in, heal him. And I needed to know where you stood, if you still believed I was a male worthy of you.”

He slowly got up. “But now… Now I find myself unable to stay away from you any longer. I love you, I want you, I need you. You fill my thoughts when I wake up, as I go on about my day, when I go to sleep. You’re in my dreams, too, where we and Uri are our own little family.”

Elain couldn’t breathe, her emotions choking her.

She brought her arms around his neck, her hands tugging on his hair, and whispered, “I love you. I tried to move one, but I couldn’t. I love you.”

Then, without breaking their eye contact, she offered him the mashed potatoes she’d cooked earlier.

She barely saw the blatant joy in his eyes before he sat down and began eating.

Elain watched him carefully as he ate all of it, not leaving one crumb. Then he got up and pressed his lips to her, like a starved animal.

He groaned in relief as she parted her mouth slightly. He brought her closer to him, until her small breasts were flush against his hard chest.

One of his arms was around her waist, his hand dangerously low, his other in her hair. She tried to get closer even still. She moaned when she felt his hardened length against her lower belly. 

He lifted her up and deposited her on the kitchen counter, one of his legs coming between hers and making space for itself. His knee brushed the spot between her legs, and she moaned again.

He fisted the dress she was wearing until it bunched up to her waist. His gaze turned even hotter as the sight of her undergarments came into view. He cursed.

“I need you. Now. I can’t wait,” he said, urgency in his voice, though an apology lay in his eyes.

“Yes, yes, please,” she agreed, bringing his body close to hers.

He undressed them, throwing their clothes to his shadows. His eyes turned molted gold as they fixed on her wetness. “Beautiful,” he whispered, before his lips kissed that sweet that gave her so much pleasure. He slid a finger in, and the sensation was too much. Stars exploded behind her eyes as she rode those waves of passion. 

He was inside her before her orgasm had even finished. He groaned as he settled all the way in, and the sound sent a shiver down her spine. She whimpered as he began thrusting, the sheer size of him knocking the breath out of her lungs. Az covered her body with his own, his quickened breaths beating against her neck.

He laid one of his hands on her breast, his mouth on the other, as he kept pumping deep inside her until she saw white, hot pleasure. He spilled inside her, bit the peak of her breast. The sting was almost enough to bring in a new orgasm.

“My love, my life,” he breathed against her neck.

They went four more times that night, exploring each other, claiming each other, until the first lights of dawn appeared in the sky. They lied on the bed, their bed now, and talked about everything and anything. He shared the years in his father’s cell, she her childhood years. They talked about the feelings they felt for each other, their plans for the future. 

They were strangers to sleep that day, but they didn’t mind. It was the happiest they’d ever been in their whole lives.

-

Rhys had been outraged when he'd heard of the orphanage, about all those kids who now didn’t have a family to take care of them, about the state of the building they were staying in. 

Elain was making a list of the things that needed fixing — the large sum provided by the High Lord was more than enough — when Azriel winnowed in the town house.

“I found him,” were the words he used to greet her.

Elain turned to him, a confused look on her face. She’d been in the middle of writing down a vision she’d just had when he barged in. “Found him? What– What do you–” Her eyes widened as a sense of clarity came over her. Uri’s father. “You– You did?”

“Yes.” His jaw ticked, fury overshadowing his eyes. “I notified Cassian. I believe he’s taking that piece of shit to the Prison as we’re speaking.”

“The Prison?” Not much was known about the terrible place, but Rhys had asked her if she could use her Cauldron-blessed powers to look into a creature inside a few months back. She shuddered as images of what she’d learned flashed in her mind. 

“It’s where he deserves to be.”

“What do you know,” she asked, though it was more of a statement. 

“You don’t want to know, trust me,” he growled.

Elain’s spine went ramrod straight. “I do, actually. I want to know what he did to my– to Uri.” She meant it. She also meant the words that almost slipped out. My son. She had come to think of him as such. 

Az studied her. After a few minutes, he nodded. “There was only one bed in the… hut they lived in. There were barely a few clothes fit for a child, most of them cut from an older male’s. There was no trace of his mother.” He went silent for a few seconds. “She died during childbirth, because her mate,” he spat out the word. “Refused to take her to a healer. What makes it even worse, he runs a business. A successful business. He had the means to provide for his mate and son, he just refused to.”

All the rage, all the icy fury she’d been brewing over the past weeks, increased tenfold when he finished speaking. But she managed to stifle it as she quietly demanded, “I want to speak to him.”

Azriel shook his head. “You can’t.”

Elain watched him defiantly. “I can. Bring me to him.”

“No, you can’t, and I won’t.” He repeated.

“He hurt my son. Our son. He beat him, burned him, starved him. I want to speak to him.” She raged. She meant it, the word that slipped out. Son. She had come to think of him as such in the past two months, his love and affection and trust something she longed to keep for eternity. She knew Az agreed with her every word.

Azriel’s eyes brightened with unshed tears. “I know, I know. Do you think I don’t want to do the same?” He shook his head. “Do you know what my shadows told me, that first night I came here?” He didn’t wait for her reply. “Uri thought we were mated, that he’d joined our family. And he was right, he’s our son. That’s why we can’t retaliate against his father. We need to think of Uri. Of what he wants. Maybe in the future, when’s a grown male, he wants to meet with him, to go back to him again. We can’t stop it, we can’t jeopardize it.”

“No! I don’t want to go back to him. I want to be with you!” 

They whirled around, not having heard Uri come in. Elain watched as Uri’s face turned bright red. “Don’t take me back to him. Dad, please,” he begged.

Az swayed on his feet at the word with which Uri called him. He rasped out, “Never, my baby. My son.” He lifted him in his arms and hugged him, holding him close to his chest.

Elain walked over to them. Azriel let her in their embrace, kissing his son and his mate.

“Mom,” Uri said quietly. “Stay here. I don’t want you near him, he’s mean.” Elain blinked back tears at that. But she nodded, and held them tighter.