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Chapter Text

Elain Archeron sensed the spymaster as soon as the first kernel of his shadows attached itself to Velaris.

The tang of the Adriatanian Sea, a typical summer breeze, clung to him, mixed with the scent of his leathers. The gardener inhaled and smiled, though she did not move from her place kneeling at the current flowerbed in work, willing to surprise him instead.

“Did you miss me, Shadowsinger?” 

The male, not having fully stepped through to Velaris yet, hesitated for only a second before moving out of the world of Shadows and taking–what Elain knew–careful, cat-like approaching steps toward the female, easing her restless mind one step at a time. 

Elain had stopped questioning why her heart and mind calmed as soon as her shadowsinger returned from missions like the most present one. She had rather come to accept it. And now that her beloved friend had come home, her heart finally beat in peace and her mind thought in tranquility. All was well again. 

“You are getting better at this each day, enaid. Have you Seen me?”

His deep voice spoke and smoothed all over Elain’s naked arms in a silken caress, just like the endearing nickname he had acquired over time. Sweet one he called her daily now.

Elain shook her head. “I felt you the moment you entered Velaris, my dear friend. You’re not as sneaky as you’d like to be.” She could nearly sense the smile tugging at his lips.

As he knelt next to her, Elain added, “I also seem to have a connection to your shadows. They have plenty of gossip about their owner.”

The low, husky laughter uttered by the shadowsinger could hardly be missed, much to the delight of the gardening female.

“You allied against me with my own shadows?” Azriel drawled. “Scandalous.”

Oh, it was. Almost as scandalizing as the truth that Elain had no idea why she felt such a connection to the male beside her. She could hardly explain that familiarity to herself, let alone to his face. But something in her had attached itself to a part of him, it seemed, for now she bore the ability to feel Azriel.

Elain had never before felt this connected to another person, safe to her Cauldron chosen mate–who she’d mutually broken the bond to a time ago.

She was certain Mother had her hands in this.

She might have bonded her to the prince of Day, but the seer’s heart lay with the male of Night, bearing all the stars of the sky within the reach of his existence.

Elain believed fate attached her to the fiery male so she would have to learn to be the master of her own life. So she would have to choose–unlike all the times she’d let others decide for her.

No longer.

Elain Archeron was the master of her fate and she was thankful for the mighty forces of the Mother who had wanted her to know. Elain knew by now what she wanted.

So she turned to the source of her most peaceful dreams, glanced into his eyes after ten days of pure agony without him.

“You never answered my question, Shadowsinger. Did you miss me, now?”

At this her friend’s bronze features took on a blushing hue along the cheekbones. His eyes cast down, the sun framing his endless lashes in a glimmering black.

Elain drank up the moment–the color of his skin, the timidity in his expression–refused to ruin the delicacy for a whole second.

But then, there was the pleasure of teasing him.

“I assume so, since it’s me you came for as soon as your mission ended. Even before reporting to your High Lord and Lady?” she purred, dragging a playful finger over his arm until her fingers came to rest upon his wrist. “Now that’s what I would call a scandal.”

As their eyes met again, Azriel’s lips formed a smile Elain could only describe as the turning point between bashfulness and brazen cockiness. Scandalous, indeed.

“You know I like to spend time with you, El,” he admitted, lips still twisted into that delicious grin.

Elain returned her eyes to his and carefully lifted until her lips softly pecked his cheek. His eyes kept hers locked, the hazel of them intimate and open all the same, making Elain feel caressed without his actual touch.

“I missed you too, sweet one,” she murmured with a smile that could have sent his shadows scattering.

Azriel’s eyes brightened at her use of words and the expression on her face. The hand upon his arm was in his palm now, being squeezed by those delicately scarred fingers. After these past few days claimed by stinging pain his touch felt like balm across her skin.

At the intimacy of the moment words rose to her lips until Elain had to swallow them down forcefully. As she was still utterly vulnerable to emotion, she would probably scare him away opening her mouth–no matter how much his eyes screamed the contrary.

Averting her gaze from his, Elain beheld the state of her garden, for the first time since emerging from the house a few minutes prior to Azriel’s arrival. It was so horrifying that it forcefully sprung to her eyes and made her heart sink.

“Oh, Mother,” she breathed, a frown turning her expression. Azriel’s eyes snapped to the source of her disgruntlement–and beheld the bunch of weeds hidden in the shadows of her taller plants. He followed the trace of her eyes over the garden bed, acknowledging even more of the plaguing unnecessities scattered all around. If he wondered about their existence–for Elain was nothing short of meticulous about her garden–he didn’t remark so.

The gardener–could she really call herself this anymore?–merely restrained from leaping to her feet, reminding her body to be careful to move. She turned to her friend.

“Would you do me the favor?”

Even as a spark of surprise lit up his eyes–for he knew of her keen weeding, of her rare distaste–Azriel didn’t mention it, leaning over and carefully tearing weed out by its roots, moving onto the next without her asking.

Elain huffed as she sat there, finding more rubbish with each glance and hating not being able to remove them herself.

Perhaps it was of her vulnerability to emotion–the clearly existing Archeron temper had arisen–or her utter helplessness that she muttered her wrath to herself, while simultaneously trying to kill off one particular tall and disastrous thing with the menace in her eyes alone.

“I'm indisposed for a week and they've already invaded my garden?" 

 Elain was a patient female but no one or nothing would mess with her garden. With her beloved, precious flowers–

The pull of a shadow bond tugged at the gardener, a collective whining echoing in her head, and her eyes intuitively snapped to the source of her shadow friends’ notice of imminent danger. As if they sensed one of the blossoms was about to meet a miserable end–by the hands of none other than their owner himself.

The male had focused on her, surprise and suspicion written in his gaze, while one hand braced against the soil beneath her plants for support and the other … was about to rip one of the lilies out of the ground–probably distracted by what she'd just spit in her annoyance. 

Elain didn't think as she lunged for his hand–lunged to save her blossom–and pain rippled from her abdomen, surging up her spine to the tips of her very fingers, making her hiss and curl inward. 

It was blinding, the pain. And, after days and days of agony, apparently not ready to bid her farewell yet. 

Elain found herself cursing like a sailor, courtesy of her High Lady sister who'd never left the seer's side during her misery and shown her the liberating pleasure of swearing one's pain out loud. 

Azriel–well, Azriel was quite out of his depth, it seemed. 

The weeding forgotten, he caught her before Elain crumbled to the ground, with her focus tightening on the ache that lingered in her body, her abdomen clenching and unclenching in torment.

The shadowsinger immediately secured the Archeron to his arms, her back to his chest. Searching for an invisible wound, with hands and shadows, he pleaded her to tell him–to explain where it hurt, where she needed him the most. 

It was the utter helplessness that drove him to clench her arms in fear–the fear that he'd lose his favorite friend without being able to ease her pain for a second. 

It worsened when he scented the blood. 

By then, the cramps had reduced to a dull aching of Elain's whole body, enough so that she could finally sense Azriel's arms embracing her, his desperate pleas, the shadows swirling all around them–intensifying to a thick black cloud once he smelled the blood on her. 

Through that thread of connection to the shadowsinger, Elain felt the abyss of his fear, cracked open by something so trivial in its nature–but he didn't know. 

Elain wanted to soothe him, she burned with the need to explain she wasn’t just about to die or worse but her tongue locked up. 

She felt the exact moment the male perceived the source of her pain–going utterly still, holding his breath. 

She wondered if it was for his shadows telling him this one thing she'd kept to herself or he'd caught onto the fact that she smelled … different. 

All thanks to the bloody mess that had called upon Elain–literally. 

Yes, her cycle had finally, agonizingly, protruded, shackling Elain to bed for the past week. She was incredibly grateful to know it would only hit her twice a year.  

Turning her head slightly the female met Azriel's eyes, his face pale yet those hazel orbs hiding a question of their own, silently asking for reassurance. The shadows had gone taut around him, stilling in their agitated swirling, waiting for her to soothe them. 

“Are you all right?” she found him rasping all the while gaining insight on how close he'd gotten. She could feel every place his body touched hers.

Damn the hypersensitivity that had somehow gotten hold of Elain after enduring her first bleeding as Fae. Or perhaps … glory be? 

She did not mention all the ways her skin reacted to his but bestowed him a smile, a weak one, yet a smile nevertheless, uttering an equally feeble yes, and watched him exhale a shaky breath. 

Elain unclenched her fists and tried to ease the tension in her body, relaxing into Azriel's chest. He helped her into a comfortable position, fitting her head just below his chin and never loosening his hold on her. Quite the contrary, he pulled her closer than before, and if Elain hadn't still been a little lightheaded, she would have teased him for the way he clandestinely sniffed her scent once more, inhaling her into his lungs. 

Tease and tug him closer, that's what she'd do if he kept holding her like this. 

“You…” he started. The rest wouldn't come. 

Not needing to hear his thoughts to know what he meant–and quite frankly, they could both scent what was going on with her–Elain nodded, eyeing his reaction to this news. 

After those initial few moments, a frown covered his expression. 

“May I ask when?” he inquired, ever the courteous gentleman with his soft as demanding tone. 

Elain shrugged. She did not care to hide this piece of information from him, not when they were sharing basically everything with each other. Yet to worry him was of her least wishes.

She reached for a wisp of darkness instead, stroking her fingers until it wrapped around her wrist and the buzzing surrounding them stopped once feeling the seer was fine.

Elain still felt Azriel waiting for an answer. She didn’t quite meet his eyes as she admitted, “Two days after you left for Adriata.”

His frown deepened. 

“Am I right to assume you were confined to your bed this past week, in pain, while I was away on some nonsense mission?”

Elain cringed but nodded, unable to lie to her beloved sweet one. 

Though she wished she could, for seeing his eyes cloud with a mixture of hurt and confusion made it so much harder to keep looking at him. 

But he was soft with her, always, even through his sorrow. 

“Why didn't you call for me?”

Elain's brows knitted at his expression. She tried to turn in his arms but her still recovering body protested, leaving her leaning back against him once more. She kept her gaze on the bronze patch of skin along his jaw, while being also keenly aware of the arm that had slung around her midriff, cradling her to him as if she was made of porcelain. 

“I didn't want you to worry, Az. You've had enough on your plate with such an important mission.” When he tried to object, Elain pressed on. “It was an important mission.”

The distressed frown on his face claimed her with unease. Elain could see the thoughts clearly–the hurt warring with his self-doubt, making him wonder if he was even entitled to being mad at her. 

“I don't care about any mission, or peace, if it means I cannot be with you when you need me the most.”

If Elain hadn’t already rested in his arms, she surely would have pressed closer to him for those words. She laid her hand atop the back of his, those delicate scars smoothing into her palm, and entangled their fingers instead, squeezing. 

“I did not wish to cause you the trouble of cancelling your mission. Rhys was clear with the importance of a peaceful relationship to Summer. They have humans in their court, after all.”

Azriel grumbled under his breath–something sounding awfully close to that bastard–but squeezed her fingers right back. Elain loved him the more for his sweet, little reassurance that he still accepted her affection, reciprocated it even, no matter how hurt or mad he was. 

He shook his head once. “I knew something was wrong.”

Elain felt him move–his chin grazed the top of her head before he came to rest it there, his thumb caressed her hand as he contemplated his next words. 

“I could feel it. Too far off for me to know what it was but…” He sighed. “It bugged me to no end. I asked Rhys if everything was in order, if he needed me back in Velaris. He said he needed me in Adriata and I shouldn't worry because all was well.” Az cursed. “I should have just come home. I should have trusted my instincts.”

Elain didn’t know what to say–the fact that he had felt something was off … they really connected on another level, didn’t they?

“It wasn’t like I was alone. Feyre and Mor kept me company the whole time. It was too much to be honest,” she laughed, remembering how during her less painful states her sister had brought trays and trays of food, and how Mor tried to feed Elain like a baby. “The pain … it hurt. But none of you would have been able to make it go away, not even Madja. Don't feel bad about not being here, Az. You have responsibilities.”

To her surprise his arms tightened around her. 

“The only responsibility I care about is keeping you safe.”

The way he said it … his voice made shivers run down her back. Such devotion and loyalty–and it was all for her. Az would neglect his responsibilities to Rhys and Feyre, to his court, for her. Elain remained speechless. 

But there was no need for her to speak, for Azriel returned his attention to her body, rubbing his hands down her arms as if he could swipe off the pain from her limbs. 

“Are you feeling better? Does it hurt still?” 

Though her belly tingled–thank the Mother she had been prepared for delayed bleeding–Elain slowly straightened out of Azriel's very supporting chest, and realized she was fine to move again.

His hands remained on her arms though, his fingers pressing delicately into her naked skin. There, they left their imprint, reaching through her skin to her bones, to her very essence, whether she wanted it or not. Elain was doomed with this love. Irrevocably. 

To hide the whirlwind of emotion taking hold of her, she twisted, shooting him a playful glance and a coy smile, and proceeded to wink at him. 

“I should be fine now. Thanks for catching me, darling.”

Finally, the concern in his eyes replaced by shining amusement. And–did they just become a shade darker, too? 

“'Darling', yeah?” He smirked. “Don't spoil me too much or I shall have you call me anything but my name.” 

Elain's cheeks pinked instantly, even as her body heat rose to meet the temperature in his eyes. It could be so soft between them, or as hot as hellfire. 

Azriel's darkened eyes roved over her features, the skin of her neck and collarbone, to the slope of her arms and … froze there. 

His brows knitted, and before Elain could wonder what made him hesitate to keep on devouring her, he reached for the fabric of her short sleeved dress and lifted. 

A hiss escaped his mouth as he eyed her skin.

Following his eyes, the seer beheld what should have been clean, pale skin. Other than five little bloody crescents, her arm was healthy. 

As if to taunt her, memories of past night scrambled into her mind, of agonizing pain–the last throes of her bleeding. She had dug her fingers into her arm until her nails ripped the skin to distract herself from the pain in her abdomen. She didn't remember taking care of the torn skin afterwards but obviously no one had smelled the excess blood with the other scent on her.

How come she hadn't noticed the blood sooner? 

For some reason those five little crescents seemed to take their toll on Azriel the most–the evidence of her pain, which she had endured without him.

Whatever he had imagined–he probably didn't think she'd try to trump the pain of her cramps with more pain.

Elain wasn’t surprised though. Even as a mortal woman her cycle had rendered her limbs and abdomen in pain, for days. Turning Fae had amplified that, it seemed.

“Did you do this?” she found him mumbling, eyes snapping from arm to her face and back to the five crescents. A little blood was smeared at the joint of her shoulder. Thank Mother she had changed out of her night dress before leaving her room. Who knew how the bloody mess looked on it. 

“I guess I just wanted to distract myself.” Looking at his deeply frowning face, Elain nudged him. “Hey. Az. It's fine. It doesn't even hurt.”

His fingers had loosely wrapped around her upper arm–his hand was large enough that he could have enveloped the skin completely–and he kept staring at the small wounds. Then, it felt like an infinity later, he breathed out through his nose and relaxed a little. 

“Those aren't cleaned. I should clean them for you.”

Elain began shaking her head but stopped immediately seeing the expression on his face. He seemed to be pleading with her. 

“It's nothing,” she uttered, although not as firm as she'd intended. 

“Let me. Please.”

Let me help you. Let me save you. Let me be there for you because I couldn't when you needed me, were the words he didn't say but Elain could hear them nevertheless. 

So it took him only a couple of words to settle it for her. Yes, it was quite settled that he couldn't look at her like that and say those words without having every single barrier of hers crumbling, crumbling, crumbling. 

That was why she nodded then, heart pounding in her chest. No doubt he could hear every beat. 

Only when he proceeded to wrap his arms around her body did Elain awake from the dizzying slumber his eyes more often than not sent her to. 

“You don't have to carry me to the house, Az. I'm not an invalid.” And damn her for not being able to help the childish undertone there. That and the fact she had crossed her arms against her chest like a tantrum-throwing four-years-old brought an instant-twinkle to his eyes. 

“I wasn't going to carry you, princess.” He nodded to his left, where a cloud of darkness began to gather. “I thought I'd use your allies to spare you the climb to your room.” 

Elain huffed, playful now, and lifted her chin in mock arrogance.

“Well, you shall use them, then. My permission is yours.”

Az only chuckled. 

And when he reached for her once more, Elain let him lift her from place and allowed herself the insolence of snuggling closer to his chest. He was so very warm.

Before the shadows swallowed them whole, Elain remembered where he was taking her. 

“Wait. Let's not go to my chambers.” Azriel raised a brow but didn't comment further. 

“Where else should I take you?”

Elain reached mind-first for his shadows and shot the image of another room in the riverfront house down the bond of shadows, aimed to control them as he'd shown her countless times before. She didn't like to use his shadows too much, for they were his, but he always loved when she surrounded herself and played with them. 

Elain had never tried to be the one to control their step through the shadows, so Azriel's surprise was only natural, seeing how easily they appeared on one of the many balconies of Rhys and Feyre's–and Elain's, yet–home. 

Without hesitation, he sent a string of blackness to slide open the door of glass and stepped inside … his own room. 

The scent hit them immediately.

Her scent, to be precise. 

Elain turned to Az with a meek expression, fighting not to blush, as she watched Azriel come to the only possible conclusion that the female in his arms had spent at least one night in here. 

His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, and his eyes focused on the perfectly made bed. Thank Gods Nuala had helped her clean up the room. 

He shot her a sidelong glance, his face impassive.

Then, a small smile blossomed on his lips.

“You really did miss me, didn't you?”

Chapter Text

Since stopping that blush creeping up her neck didn’t seem possible, Elain only pinched his chest and hushed him. It couldn’t swipe the sweet turned smug grin from his gorgeous face though. 

“I insist your ego to not blow up all over us, Az. I wouldn’t know how to handle you,” she teased as he walked to his huge bed, Elain in arms, and sat her atop the blankets. 

“And again, you spoil me. My ego certainly won’t shrink in your company.” 

The smart-ass. She tugged him next to her onto the covers and grinned, delighting in their teasing. 

“Hm. That’s why you missed me. I didn’t know you could be so vain.”

“My shadow friends haven’t betrayed me thoroughly it seems. Good for me,” he stated, only his eyes giving away the joking nature of his words. 

Elain liked the subtlety of his demeanor; she liked reading him like her favorite book, flipping through the pages of his moods–for every emotion, every word and gesture of his meant something to her. 

“Betrayed you?” She dared rolling her eyes. “Now you’re just being dramatic.”

Azriel flicked her nose in retaliation. “If I didn’t know you were still in pain I would drag you to training by dawn and make sure you regretted those insolent words of yours.”

Elain couldn’t help it, she threw her head back and laughed–a full and unrestrained sound, because Mother. She loved him, and she loved them together. 

He might have thought the same thing for all that expression on his face said, as he watched her laugh with softness moving his gaze. 

“What?” Elain voiced, when the last bubbling of her laughter faded and she found him staring. She hoped he would say exactly what was on his mind and more. 

For a moment it seemed like he would do just as she wished, but he shook his head the next and murmured, “Nothing.”

So … not yet then. 

Elain could be fine with that. They had an eternity to toe around each other but also an eternity to confess. She certainly would be ready by then–no matter how much time that’d take. 

Normally she wouldn’t have any qualms matching his pace, but … she supposed she was being a little impatient today, for reasons she highly assumed had to do with her hormones going mad. And still, she would never push him. 

It was only a matter of time until they’d finally cross that line she longed to hurtle through. 

For now, Azriel busied himself with making her comfortable. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re fussing, Shadowsinger,” Elain murmured, watching as he moved about the bed, organizing the blanket around her frame and handing her a bag of hot water for her belly. She didn’t even know where that came from and the pain had retired to the very back of her mind in his presence. 

Azriel bristled. “I’m not fussing–Is this comfortable enough?” 

Elain bit her lip to not break into a full-on grin, and nodded. 

Az seated her in front of him, with her back to his chest, though he didn’t touch her. The female tried to wiggle closer, wanting to be able to feel his warmth at least but he stopped her, fussing more.

Fortunately enough he put his hands on her as he pushed the sleeve of her dress over her shoulder and inspected the wound again. 

Gods, what was this utterly annoying feeling of neediness?

His shadows–or had it been one of the twins?–had already gathered what he needed to tend to the wounds, as the male began to slowly clean out the little crescents.

Elain watched him from the mirror hanging across the room, watched the way he studied the blood and his fingers grazed her skin ever so softly. She admired the skin of his hands and the slope of his neck as he worked, a bubble of silence settling around them. The Archeron was especially fond of the crease forming between his brows as he concentrated on patching her up–her fingers itched with the need to smooth over it. 

“Like what you see?” he pulled her out of her daydreams involving her fingers on his face with a smirk on his face. 

“Depends on how your ego is doing.”

Az met her eyes in the mirror, only a quick glance before he went back to work, but Elain could have sworn she saw them twinkle like stars were caught inside them. 

“It’ll survive.” 

“We wouldn’t want to risk that now, would we?”

Az let out an amused huff. “I’m surprised Feyre and Mor spent so much time with you if you’ve been this feisty all week. It’s almost unbearable,” he teased, and–to her sweet shock–pecked the skin of her shoulder. Innocent, yet scorching.

“I’m not too proud to admit they mostly got to hear me complaining. It’s different with you.”

Even though Elain tried to grin, the place he’d pressed his lips to was still where her attention laid–therefore some resurfacing feelings of neediness and the allure of his touch had to be quelled. Immediately.

To her horror and utmost delight at the same time, he kissed her again–his lips brushing her knuckles this time. He took her hand in his and let his lips wander to her wrist. 

“How so?”

Those muttered words between kisses to her skin barely got through to Elain. She had rarely been as focused on anything as on his lips, her skin and where those touched. 

She remembered to answer a few moments later. “I don’t know. It’s always different with you.” 

He seemed quite pleased with her answer and followed the skin of her naked arm even higher. 

Elain couldn’t help herself at this point. “Az, what are you doing?” 

Damn her mouth for voicing those words and making him stop. 

“I’m taking care of you.” Cocking his head to the side, Azriel kept his eyes on mirror-Elain. “Should I stop?”

The honey-haired female was shaking her head before she knew it. “Absolutely not.”

A knowing smile, and he kept kissing up her arm. 

Oh, Mother help her.

When he was short of reaching her shoulder, Elain realized her scratches had been bandaged already–and she’d somehow didn’t notice. She felt hypnotized as he spoke again. 

“Tell me something. Why didn’t you want to return to your room?” 

As she watched his lips hover over the joint of her shoulder, Elain gulped. 

“After spending all week there, I felt like suffocating. That’s why I spend the night here. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t. You could have had any room you wanted–but you chose mine. I’m honored.”

Despite the energy buzzing in her veins, Elain managed to roll her eyes at him making him grin.

“No, I’m serious. You could have taken the other bed.” He nodded his head to the spare bunk to his left. “For some reason you took mine.”

It was so obvious he tried to make her blush with his words. Since Elain loved him very much, there was no other way but obliging.

“I told you I missed you,” she stated, softly, and met his gaze in the mirror. “I wasn’t lying.” 

He watched her for a moment longer, and answered by pressing a lingering kiss to the hollow of her neck. 

Shivers. Everywhere. 

“Az,” Elain breathed, wanting him to stop but also never wishing to be parted from his lips ever again. 

Azriel traced her neck with the tip of his nose and sighed. “I missed you too, El.”

It was nice to hear him say those words, no matter how much his eyes, and hands, and body would always give him away to her. So nice, Elain gasped quietly, having no doubt Azriel heard it.

“I missed you so much, I couldn’t concentrate half the time I sat in meetings. Tarquin’s court was irritated with me because I kept drowning the room in shadows, trying to disappear. I just couldn’t stop wishing I was here, at home, with you.”

Another peck just below her ear.

That line between them, the one she wanted to smother with every breath, was slowly vanishing. With every kiss, they were blurring and mixing and becoming one. With every touch, their souls found even more ways to connect. 

And yet, Azriel seemed oblivious to her quickened breathing, the redness creeping up her neck and face. He kept consuming her every thought. 

“Now that I know what you were going through, I can’t help but hate myself for not returning to you.”

Elain didn’t have the space of mind to object. Not as long as he kept his mouth and those burning eyes on her. Her hands clenched the bag of water in her lap. It was way too hot in here.

“How can I make it up to you, Elain?”

His words hung in the air between them, loaded by his touches and ready to crackle with energy, given what Elain thought he just implied. Oh, he shouldn’t have asked that. Those words were only feeding into her deepest desires and … it was like he begged to have her unleashed.

So she bared her neck to him, exposing the tender flesh to the mighty Illyrian. Do what he willed with it. 

“I don’t mind what you started earlier.”

Indeed, he must have been hoping for something like that because his hands were on her arms before she knew it, slowly burning their way down her skin, and up again. When he reached her shoulders, his thumbs started drawing circles along her shoulder blades, dragging over her neck to the place where short curls of her golden-brown hair stuck to her skin. Elain tipped her head forward, anticipating the pleasure of his touch.

But … Azriel withdrew.

She waited and waited–entire infinities passed in those seconds–but he must have waited, too, for her patience to run thin. Just when she was about to snarl or pull him closer or both, Azriel returned his mouth to her throat. She felt his breath first, the silkiness of his lips second and let him take care of her.

And he did, Mother help her. He also breathed lungfuls of her essence, breathed her in and never let her escape. He murmured to himself, unintelligible words giving her the idea he liked this new tang to her scent very much.

As much as Elain enjoyed the affections practically raining upon her neck, her shoulders and occasionally on her arms, it made her hands clench the blankets in forced restraint. Even if she allowed his touch, it didn’t mean he would let her touch him back. And if she were to permit her this one liberty, Elain would yield to this love between them, and perhaps hasten their relationship into something he’d rather not have with her.

So she kept her hands to herself and swore patience.

She really did try to stick to it.

But after minutes and minutes of his tender lips across her skin, it was too much to just be sitting there.

Elain jerked and turned so fast, it startled him. Startled.

His eyes were molten with desire–he neither had the time to hide it nor did he try to–making her next words practically drip from her lips.

“Is it time yet? Tell me it’s time.” 

Az licked his lips, eyes focusing on her own soft pillows as if he knew exactly what she was asking him. 

“For what, pray tell?” 

He really does want me to say it out loud, Elain wondered in the heat of the moment. He could have that. He could have more.

As Azriel kept devouring her with his gaze, Elain climbed into his lap. If his pupils were blown wide before, they ate up the hazel of his orbs now.

“For us to stop this game of hide and seek already. For those lips to push on mine. For me to tell you all the things I’ve been dying to tell you.”

There she was; one foot across the line, hoping he’d meet her on the other side.

He did.

“I’m ready,” Azriel growled, “if you are.” 

“I’ve been ready forever, Azriel. Forever and ever and–”

Who was she even kidding? That sentence was made to be silenced by a toe-curling kiss, and Elain would have kept wording her impatience until Azriel fulfilled the functionality there. Thank the Mother he was quick witted and gave her what she needed. And then some. 

He kissed like … heavens, he was skilled. Her passion caught up to his though, and sooner than later there was little to no air between them.

“‘Forever’, enaid?” Az murmured between kisses, but Elain couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of her heart and the sweet sound of his lips on her own. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer until he chuckled against her lips. She was drunk, they were both drunk from this love–it could be the only explanation for what Elain was feeling. 

More than anything, she wanted to wrap herself around him. Suck him inside her lungs. Be the skin on his bones. 

She was doing just that, trying to wrap her legs around him, as pain shot up her spine and the she was cringing for the smallest second.

Not to her surprise, it was enough to make Azriel withdraw, concern replacing desire. 

Elain wouldn’t have it. She needed that expression of cloudy lust back on his face yesterday. As she tried to capture his lips again, he stopped her.

“Easy.”

Even that one uttered word, low and husky, made her want to taste him again. 

“No talking. Just kissing,” she managed to breathe, and steal one more kiss. 

Azriel groaned low in his throat and wrapped his arms around her middle. “I need to slow down.”

Elain stopped trying to inhale him.

“Why?” Even she could hear the sudden dread making appearance in her voice. 

Az only dragged his hands down her back as if to soothe that fear out of her. “I don’t want to hurt you. But if you keep kissing me like that, I might actually lose it.”

Elain exhaled, controlling that inner demon that was begging for the distance between them to be closed already. He was right though–she could hardly move about and well, she wanted to enjoy this thoroughly, without the pain. 

Leaning her brow against his, Elain attempted to calm her breathing. Once she stopped panting like some puppy, she brushed her nose against his.

“Let’s slow down then,” she whispered as her lips touched his again.

To say pride filled her every cell as her slow kissing dragged out a long moan from Az would have been an understatement. 

He seemed utterly dumbfounded by her skill, unable to think. Elain smiled–she’d dreamed to do this. Rendering him speechless for once.

“This is not helping, flower,” he rasped, now being the one left panting.

Elain smirked at him, even though her face must be flushed with all the blood she could hear rushing in her ears. “Now my ego might have exploded.”

Azriel laughed, a heady and low sound, making Elain pull farther away to watch him as he had watched her.

His kiss was beyond measure–worth every day of her patience–but it was his laugh which had drawn her into this spiral of emotions for the spymaster of the Night Court on that fateful day of Solstice.

“Are you satiated enough for us to pause?” Azriel murmured, freeing her cheeks from the strands of hair that had fallen into her face. He caressed her jaw, and Elain could have melted under his loving eyes.

“I can’t promise I won’t attack you in a minute but fine, I guess.” She grinned at him. Azriel only grappled her in his arms, gently, despite the insinuating reckless glimmer in his eyes.

He settled them on the mattress, so that they faced each other on their sides, and kept watching her. Elain gladly returned the favor as she caressed his face and swollen lips. She wondered if he felt as full as her. Full of life, of love and brimming over with energy while he soothed her every bone at the same time, coating her being in peace. Considering how he kept looking at her, Elain knew he would be feeling the exact same.

Peace, she thought. Together, they were peace.

“Will you tell me about all the things you’ve been dying to tell me now?”

Elain bit her lip and threaded her fingers through his thick hair, avoiding his gaze. “You didn’t forget about that.”

Azriel steadied himself on his elbow, hand coming to cradle her jaw while his thumb tugged on her bottom lip, easing it from between her teeth. His eyes danced in the dim light coming from the windows.

“I could never.”

When Elain didn’t answer right away, he raised a brow expectantly. “Well?”

The female cast her eyes down, nervous now that he’d wanted to hear those truths she’d always known but kept for herself in fear she would scare him away. “Do you really want to know though? I’d hate to say… the wrong things.”

The shadowsinger brought his face closer and nudged her nose with his. “My kiss didn’t convince you? You’re wounding me, enaid.”

The seer couldn’t help but giggle. “Oh, your kiss convinced me about many things. One being that I could kiss you for eternity.” 

Her words made him withdraw slightly, his eyes piercing her own. And just like that, he had pinned her soul to the bed.

“Eternity, huh?”

“Does that scare you?”

A brush of his lips against her temple. “How could an eternity with you ever scare me away? I think you are underestimating my feelings for you.”

Elain’s world paused.

She had known he must have feelings for her–she could feel it, really–but the knowledge didn’t compare to the way his words affected her.

“Just … tell me if it’s too much, all right? I don’t feel like making a fool out of myself.” She chuckled, albeit mildly on edge.

Azriel looked to be amused, gaze still piercing, as if he were aware of her every secret. He could be acquainted with them, for all Elain knew.

“Whatever you want, sweet one.”

Elain waited until he had settled back on the bed, and pretended to make herself comfortable to gain some time, gathering her thoughts. Now that it was finally her moment to confess, and she was pretty sure he wouldn’t run, the words didn’t come to her lips. The way he kept watching her didn’t help either. For whatever reason, Elain could practically sense his amusement buzzing between them; she felt she would be able to touch it if she wanted to.

“Well, I … really like you, Azriel.”

Silence.

And then, “Now you’ve stepped over the line.”

Elain reached and slapped him across the chest, a smile tugging at her lips even as she tried to scowl at him. “I’m serious, you insufferable bat. Stop making fun of me.”

Azriel–the scoundrel dared to smirk at her–caught her fingers as she attempted to pinch his side. “But I like to tease you so. Have pity and let an ancient male who has seen more battles than he can count have a little bit of fun, will you?”

Elain rolled her eyes. Playful as he was now she rarely got to witness, and if the seer had to guess, it probably had something to do with the intimacy they shared less than a few minutes ago and the fact she was trying to confess her love to him and both of them knew it.

Either way, he was at ease with her presence, had let down all his guards, and damn her if she didn’t adore him the more for it.

Deciding to take action, Elain freed her hand from his and grabbed his wrists, pinning them on the mattress. “Will you listen to me now? I demand your attention.”

She might have chosen the wrong words for her case, for Azriel’s smirk turned wolfish and Elain sensed more than saw wisps of his shadows caress her legs–up and up into the hollow of her knee. She stifled the shiver of excitement that threatened to overcome her and let go of him. She would burn to ashes if he kept staring her like that.

“Is that so?” Azriel drawled. “Why didn’t you say sooner?”

When he went in to grab her frame and tug her to him once more, Elain did the only thing coming to her mind, trying to keep his hands off her and her wits together.

A nod of her head and two strings of darkness materialized out of thin air, shackling his wrists to the bed.

The look of unadulterated surprise on his face was worth the restraint it took to keep Elain from Azriel.

The shadowsinger tugged on the shadow binds, brows furrowing as they held. When he met her eyes again, it was a showcase of confusion, wonder, pride and another swirling dark emotion that caught her breath in her lungs.

He was shackled to the mattress before her, sprawled, with no way to escape unless she willed it. Somehow Elain knew the restraints would hold. Her insides clenched.

Shoving those scandalous thoughts aside, the female crossed her arms against her chest, bestowing him a pointed look.

Azriel, having stopped wanting to free himself, pursed his lips, amusement back in his expression. “I’m listening.”

Ignoring his hazel gaze, Elain relaxed her shoulders and crossed the distance between them, laying on her back next to him, for any inch spent too far away from Az was wasted space.

“As I said, I really do like you, Azriel–” She glanced at him sideways, waiting for any teasing words but he obeyed and listened, gleaming eyes and all. “And I know you like me. But it’s more than that.”

“Yeah?” Azriel encouraged, voice already sounding rough even though she had barely confessed anything he didn’t know. Elain kept her eyes on the ceiling as she answered.

“Yes. I like so many things about you. I like the way you make me feel as though I’m the strongest female in this world. I like how you watch me garden, even though it must bore you out of your mind. But you want to have me close, so you stay.

“I like our silence but I like our conversations even more. I love how I can be at ease around you because you accept me as I am, you always have, even with my flaws. I never needed to be someone else for you. I love how you tease me, how you drive me insane, and it’s both a shame and a pleasure that no one knows this side of yours. I love the little pranks we play on our family, our bets. None of them even suspect us because no one else knows us as we know each other. I love that you know me so well.”

Once having begun, Elain could not stop rambling about him. She didn’t notice Azriel’s eyes glazing over, never leaving her face, as he tugged and tugged, trying to unbind his shadow shackles.

“I love our secrets, and the peace I feel when I’m with you. You make me want to freeze time and speed it up all the same because I can’t wait to see how our future looks. And that’s the thing: whenever I see the future, you’re always there.”

She turned to him, eyes filling with tears.

“You’re always there, Azriel. Whatever change I might see, you are my ever remaining constant. Wherever life may take me, I hope there you go, too. Because I …” she swallowed, trying to speak around the lump in her throat. His expression was one full of emotion and it hit her then, the enormity of every word she had just said and what they must mean to him. “I … Oh, you know how I feel for you.”

Azriel was utterly still. In fact, Elain didn’t think he’d moved a muscle in the last few seconds.

“Say it,” he pleaded. “I want to hear you say it.”

Time may have just frozen, and Elain rose in slow motion, turning to her best friend.

“I am in love with you, Az. Utterly, foolishly and deeply in love with you.”

There was no sound after her words but for the breath he released. Azriel’s entire body lost its tension at once, and the bond between them flared as if it had been in building this whole time and the final piece matched with her missing words.

For the shortest of moments, Elain thought she saw tendrils of shadows swirling all around them, connecting the seer and the shadowsinger, Death and his lovely Fawn. They flickered off as soon as they had appeared. She had never sensed Azriel as strongly as she did now. Would she have willed those shadows to go taut and pull him closer, they would have obeyed. Elain felt the control of them within her mind, and wondered if this was how Azriel had grown them centuries ago.

Finally, the male broke the silence, only to utter her name. He was still cuffed to the bed, and Elain realized with shocking clarity her shadows would pin him there until she commanded otherwise.

“Will you let me go, Ellie? Please. I need to hold you.”

His voice sounded so unlike him too–soft and thin.

Half a thought later he was freed, and Elain wrapped in his arms the first and cocooned in darkness the next moment. His wings–he enveloped the entirety of her with his wings and … silence. Complete silence.

“This is nice,” Elain found herself whispering into the darkness, trying to bridge over the roaring quiet caused by the lack of reciprocation. But as her words faded, she noticed Azriel was shaking.

So she waited–face buried into the fabric of his dark tunic, arms wrapped around his middle. Waited for him to come to terms with her love.

An eternity seemed to have passed until Azriel asked, completely out of blue, “Did you ever wonder why you could wield my shadows?”

Elain blinked, needing a second to process. “Yes. I supposed it had something to do with you letting me control them to some extent.”

“That’s only partly true.”

“Do you mean to say they just like me better than you?”

The huff of amusement leaving Azriel’s lips felt entirely different once one was pressed this close against him. Elain wondered how his laugh would feel from here. She pressed her ear closer to his chest, anticipating his next words.

“They do, indeed. But there’s another reason.”

“Oh.” Elain waited. She felt the struggle of his next words. “Care to enlighten me?”

Az’s arms wrapped tighter around her back. “My shadows … You must understand they are a part of me as they are separate, to some extent even conscious beings.” He paused. “Whatever I feel, they strengthen that emotion. They react to it.

“So when I’m sad or angry or worse, they whisper to me until I feel like going mad, until I have to strangle their hold on me. Over time I figured how to silence them; their whispering was the worst in my first years of being caged.”

Elain squeezed him tighter, hating how his past had inflicted unbelievable pain onto him. Azriel pushed her curls from her neck, touching her face–an innocent swipe of his fingers.

“But when I’m happy, my shadows are ecstatic. They strengthen whatever they feel me feeling.

“I didn’t notice it at first, because it started slowly. But soon, I found little wisps of shadows flitting from me to you whenever you were around. I didn’t understand but I didn’t mind either, so I let them. I don’t know whether I could have stopped it. Yet I didn’t try.”

Elain’s mouth dried, her brow furrowing.

“You mean to tell me this … bond I’ve been feeling to you, it’s your shadows creating a bridge between us because they try to strengthen whatever it is you feel for me?”

“Yes. And no.” Azriel sighed. “They wouldn’t have attached themselves to you, if they didn’t know you reciprocated somehow. If they didn’t feel you outright refusing such a bond to their master.” 

“I’m confused.”

“This bond between us eases our connection, makes it possible for us to sense each other, but it wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for us. If it weren’t for my feelings for you. My shadows felt them and started … bonding us the moment they sensed our natural connection. That’s the reason why you’ve been able to use them yourself. You don’t even need my presence to will upon them because they’re your shadows now.”

Elain thought a while about that. Then something struck her. 

“Did you know about this when you gave me Truth-Teller? Because when I used it, I used your shadows. I used them to winnow to…” A shiver raked down her spine at the memory of a blade buried deep within a throat, wretched as it was.

Azriel nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t wish to burden you. And it didn’t have to mean anything. My shadows wouldn’t force themselves upon your person. It’s not as absolute as a mating bond, but strong enough if we wished it to be. How strong our bond is, is under our command.”

Elain reached blindly and met the planes of his face with her fingers, cradling his jaw in reassurance, even as she tried to process this piece of new information.

A self-made bond which she could form as she liked, lessen its intensity or strengthen it. Had it been the bond she sensed after confessing her love to him–her declaration of love solidifying and reinforcing their connection on a deeper level? Perhaps, with time, it would grow even stronger. Her blood thrilled in her veins at the possibility having something such as a mating bond to Azriel.

“I’m glad they connected us. I wouldn’t have been able to save both my brother and sister if it weren’t for our connection. But Az … it’s been years since the war.”

Elain kept staring at the membrane of his wings, only noticing then that her eyes had gotten used to the darkness and the violet hue his wings cast in their little alcove.

“Yes.”

“If your shadows attached to me because you cared for me … you’ve had feelings for me since then?” Elain lifted her head to meet his hazel gaze, not standing another second of not looking at him.

He averted his eyes. “They started connecting us even before that. I noticed it first when we found out you were a seer.”

When what he tried to tell her slowly unraveled, Elain began seeing why he had asked about his shadows in the first place. Her heart thumping, she stared at this male who held her heart right here, within this safe place. He had cared for her since the very beginning, had harbored this feeling within the safety of his heart and mind until now.

“You’ve … loved me for so long?”

Azriel opened his mouth. Closed it. Then nodded. 

Elain tried not to cry, really. But the more she thought about what he confessed–he had loved her all this time and never mentioned it, had let her set the pace and kept her company and it was everything, just everything–the more her resolve faded. One of her tears slipped and fell onto his cheek, but he didn’t dare move, didn’t swipe it from his skin. Azriel just kept holding her gaze.

His eyes were depthless. Elain thought she saw his golden soul. 

She let herself down slowly, bringing her face closer to his, brushing their noses.

“All this time you’ve said nothing. Why keep it from me when you had to know I loved you as well?”

Azriel inhaled at this. The sad thought occurred to Elain that he wouldn’t likely get over hearing those three words voiced to him soon.

“I didn’t know, not for sure. And you had your mate. I wanted you to have a chance at love with him. Just because my shadows saw fit connecting us doesn’t mean I am entitled to your love. Being your friend has sweetened my life just as much.”

Elain’s heart swelled until there was not enough room in her chest to fit her love for him.

“I thought I couldn’t possibly fall harder for you but you proved me wrong. You are insufferably perfect, do you know that?”

The female thought she saw mischief glimmer in his eyes and–was there any way one could simply melt to goo? Because if he didn’t kill her with his dangerous touch, he would have her melted to the ground with his sweetness. One way or another, it would have been an honorable end to her being.

Then, Azriel grinned, teeth and heart on full display. Farewell to her existence.

“My ego is in shreds.”

Elain just kissed him.