This is where I will link out to all the meta post series and other relevant posts I have published and would like to be able to find more easily. I’ll be continually developing this list over time as I figure out what it is I’ve actually written this past year and a half in fandom.
princessofmerchants ACOTAR Ships/Sentiment Survey - I plan to post about this survey I conducted pre-ACOSF, ahead of the one-year anniversary of the ACOSF release this February, so stay tuned on this one
Feyre had asked this morning if Nesta wanted to come. To show their father the baby. And there had been no answer in Nesta’s heart except one. So she nodded to her sisters to go on ahead, and they obeyed, easing back down the grassy hill as Nesta lingered by the gravestone. She searched for the words, for any explanation or apology, but none came. The sun was a warm hand on her shoulder, like the one that had prevented the last of her power from vanishing, as if telling her that the apology, the begging for forgiveness … it was no longer needed. Her father had died for her, with love in his heart, and though she might not have deserved it then … She would do all she could now to earn it. To deserve not just his love, but that of those around her. Of Cassian. Some days might indeed be difficult, but she’d do it. Fight for it. Her father had died for her, with love in his heart, and Nesta held love in her own heart as she pulled the small, carved rose from her pocket and set it upon the gravestone. A permanent marker of the beauty and good he’d tried to bring into the world. Nesta brought her fingers to her lips, pressed a kiss to them, then laid her hand upon the gravestone. “Thank you,” she said, blinking back the stinging in her eyes. “Thank you.”
—ACOSF Ch. 80
Ten days ago, on the Winter Solstice, in the thick of this holiday season, was the anniversary of my father’s death.
My relationship with him was similarly complicated in the way Nesta’s relationship with her father is in these books, beginning in bitterness and resentment way back in ACOTAR, through the remarkable but complex turn it takes at the end of ACOWAR, then through the angry grief we see in ACOFAS, and culminating in the journey we get to witness Nesta make through that destructive grief to something more healthy in ACOSF.
I say this as context for how my reading of this last chapter of ACOSF is shaped and formed by my own experiences. I’ll disclaim by saying I know alternate readings of this ending exist and that they are also valid, but I’ll share now why this last moment and scene mean so much to me as a reader, and close out my 25 ACOSF Days of Solstice posts with this passage and reflection that I’m aware not everyone will relate to in the same way.
The idea that sometimes the resolution to a complicated mental and emotional journey through grief is not tie-up-able with a neat verbal bow of meaning-making is very realistic to me.
In Nesta’s case, she always assumed some kind of apology, felt or spoken, to her father for being a flawed human being in her adolescence who felt rage toward him and let it shape her behavior (because she had no models of mature self-regulation), only to have him do his flawed best to make up to her and her sisters for his very real neglect by fighting then dying for them in a way that turned the tide of a war they found themselves on the front lines fighting…..that Nesta realizes, perhaps through the calm and forgiving presence of the Mother, that words are no longer needed to find peace in relation to her father, is so fucking real to me.
Implicit in Nesta’s journey through her grief, that I am able to infer from this moment in Chapter 80, is that Nesta has forgiven her father at some point. She speaks (in her mind) here of his forgiveness of her — and I think that’s the detail most open to scrutiny and critique by those who don’t like this scene — but for her to be able to acknowledge that her father died (was killed before her eyes) with love in his heart, means she has found peace, imperfectly shaped as it may be, regarding his neglect of their family in her adolescence. Peace isn’t the same as defense or excuse-making; it is only, and simply, peace.
In my personal experience, that peace comes from some combination of forgiving one’s flawed parent and letting go of all the shit and baggage those flaws have passed on to you through osmosis and generational trauma.
It doesn’t disappear. But it does stop actively shaping you in the present because you choose to let it go and no longer identify with it so much that you don’t know yourself without it.
Nesta now has an identity that isn’t defined by her rage and trauma. Those things still exist, and she can and should acknowledge and honor them, especially when triggers cause them to poke through into the present in unexpected ways, but they are no longer the center of her understanding of self.
It takes so much mental health work to reach this point. I’m not fully there yet myself, but I’m far enough along to be able to see this as the desired outcome of my work on my own grief and rage. And I think SJM writes Nesta’s healing journey across four books and a novella in a way that has very much earned this outcome for Nesta.
I’ll end by saying that, in a situation where one of the two parties that has hurt each other is well and truly gone from the earthly plane where restitution might occur, the one that is still here? Alive and breathing and just trying to fucking live when they possibly don’t even know how that even works because there weren’t too many examples to draw from?
Whatever way that person remaining is able to find peace that includes love in their heart, is valid and right and preferred to a grief and rage that has no end point except destruction.
I am breathlessly in awe that Nesta has love in her heart in this closing scene of ACOSF. It’s something I covet.
Nesta is my fucking hero for myriad reasons, but this, how she lands in relation to her father, is the biggest one of all for me.
Happy Solstice and New Year, dear friends who read this post series! I have an Ask about Nesta and the Mother I will answer in the new year when I can work from a full keyboarded computer. Otherwise, thus endeth my 25 ACOSF Days of Solstice ✨
A hand slid into Nesta’s, and she found Elain there, shaking and wide-eyed. Nesta squeezed her sister’s fingers.Together, they approached the other side of the bed. And when Elain began praying to the Fae’s foreign gods, to their Mother, Nesta bowed her head, too.
—ACOSF Ch. 76
This chapter is a heavy one. Pregnancy plot coming to its fruition, etc. But more important to me, Nesta wielding all three Dread Trove items.
But my passage isn’t directly about either of those.
It’s this moment at a dying Feyre’s bedside, between Nesta and Elain. It’s a moment really between the three of them, and if I may be so bold, the Mother as well.
I softly gasped when I reached this moment during my reread. To have a vulnerably strong moment of openness and care between the Archeron sisters in this room where Death hovers to take one of them away from the others…
To have Elain, who has perhaps struggled most of all with her forced turn to Fae, invoke the Fae gods including the Mother in a prayer for Feyre, and for Nesta, who we recall has been attending the priestesses’ evening worship services to fill the part of her that loves music, to join in that prayer…
Nesta who has also been blessed and favored in some way by the Mother throughout this story…
I just think this is a really meaningful and powerful collection of images when considering the series-wide character arcs of the Archeron sisters, as a family and as individuals.
I also think (predict) that this moment situates our thoughts of the three sisters in a way that sets up for what will come in future books.
Cassian lay facedown on the earth. Nesta rushed toward him, praying, sobbing, her magic still echoing through the world. She turned him over, searching for the knife, the wound, but— The knife lay beneath him. Unbloodied. He groaned, cracking his eyes open. “I figured,” he rasped, “I should lie low while you did that.” Nesta gaped at him. Then burst into tears.
—ACOSF Ch. 75
This is a quick post for a quick chapter.
Here Cassian is referring to Nesta’s eruption in the last chapter, including Unmaking Briallyn
I love several things here.
That he’s using his signature humor to signal to a frantic Nesta that he is okay and uninjured.
That he’s confident in his place at the side of someone who can destroy worlds if she so chooses.
That he’d have it no other way and his ego isn’t the least bit threatened by her baddassery.
Does anyone know what happened to the artist faeriereverie? They have made some of the most iconic fandom art to date (their rowaelin piece is especially notable) but it seems like they’ve disappeared from all socials. Their IG is gone, so is their tumblr, and I can’t find them on anything else. I’m pretty sure their real name is Kris?
I loved their work, and the limited interactions I had with them made me know they were a lovely person as well. I always imagined that if my writing ever went anywhere they would be the ones I’d beg for fanart lol
I would post a picture of their art for context, but I vividly remember that they really did not want their art shared like that, so if anyone knows anything I would greatly appreciate it!
I have so many thoughts on this. Firstly, I think SJM is confirming there will be ACOTAR perspectives but not actually confirming that Feyre will necessarily be one of them (I could be wrong though).
Either way, I really, really fucking hope we don’t get a POV from someone we’ve already had a perspective of (*cough* Feysand *cough*). Their stories have been told, and they have their own series to be in the limelight. I don’t want SJMs works to just turn into Rhys’ world that we’re all just living in. Not to mention how incredibly jarring it would be if she follows her first person format of ACOFAS, where everyone else was in third except Rhys and Feyre. And, before you say I’m crazy, the scene from Starfall that she wrote about Aelin’s fall was taken out at the editor’s insistence because 1) having Rhys just pop up in someone else’s book wasn’t coherent and 2) suddenly and randomly switching to first person did not work.
I also want these series to be complete and meritorious on their own. If Rhys and co play such a large role that they’re instrumental in the defeat of the Asteri, it won’t be Bryce’s story, nor her triumph, anymore. I also feel for any readers in the future who will pick up ACOTAR5 and think wait what the hell is happening because of how CC3 has so heavily influenced the plot of the remaining ACOTAR books. Like okay, Nessian is happy and Feysand have a baby and I’m fucking sorry why are we suddenly discussing the multiverse and characters I’ve never heard of?
So, whose perspective would I appreciate, especially if we look at CC3 not just as a book in that series but also as a continuance/set up for ACOTAR?
Hello hello to my favourite character Gwyn. The one who has been researching the multiverse for years. The one who was featured in the main bonus chapter. The one who works in academia and would surely be familiar with the ancient fae language. The one who could use CC3 as a segue/introduction into featuring as a main character in the next ACOTAR book.
Although it wouldn’t surprise me if SJM accidentally used the same name twice (she has self admittedly done it multiple times before) I wonder if Ruhn was named in an effort to create more connections between her worlds. Although I don’t think he is named after the mountains of vise-versa, perhaps they share the name of what they were both named after.
Unlike with the ACOTAR books, SJM can’t go back and add Easter eggs into the ToG series to expand her multiverse. So maybe this is that. Using something she already had and giving it a deeper meaning.
A Court of Silver Flames and House of Sky and Breath
SJM has confirmed that the ending of HOSAB has been planned from the beginning. Hence, whilst writing ACOSF, there is no way this mention of Merrill, and by default Gwyn, researching the connections between all their worlds is just a coincidence.
So, surely, we’ll get Merrill and Gwyn heavily featured in the crossover portion of CC3, helping Bryce find her way to Hel and helping understand the reach of the Asteri.
Not to mention, there are at least 8 volumes of books pertaining to ‘The Great War,’ which is 8 potential volumes worth of history on the Asteri and their role in Prythian.
Of all the things I considered happening in the fandom from the release of House of Sky and Breath, the (ever) igniting battle between Gwynriel and Elriel shippers wasn’t one of them
A fic where Gwyn strikes a deal with Azriel, but neither are ready to deal with the consequences.
This is a long finale, so buckle up and get ready. Also, the formatting will most definitely be better on Ao3. In my experience, tumblr struggles with anything over 20k words, and this well and truely goes over that. Happy reading!
The days blurred together for him. He stood there well after she had gone. Long enough that Cassian came to find him, leading him back into the House. Azriel knew Cassian was talking, expressing concern to him, but every time he tried to open his mouth no words came out. Nesta saw him, fear in her eyes, and she rushed away to find Gwyn.
Rhys came at some point, but Azriel ignored him. He didn’t blame Rhys for what had happened between him and Gwyn, but there was a traitorous part of him that couldn’t help but see the look of utter disgust on Rhys’ face when he saw first-hand how much Azriel wanted her and whispered even your brother knows you shouldn’t have her.
Everything was monotonous after that in a way he never could have anticipated. The only time he ever truly felt anything was when he saw Gwyn during training, but she avoided him and he respected her wishes. She must hate him, surely, for rejecting her so callously. Especially when they were so close to sleeping together.
Azriel would happily never touch a woman again if it meant they could just go back to how they were before. The casual kisses, the spooning in bed, the waking up to her teal eyes piercing right through him.
“You have a letter,” Cassian said one day, thwacking the letter onto the table in front of him. “Picked it up in Illyria.”
There was only one person who sent him letters from Illyria, and he eagerly opened the paper to see what was written.
Dear Azriel,
It has been too long, and I miss you dearly. I’ve arranged to come to Velaris to see you for a week next month.
All the love I’ve ever had,
Your mother.
***
“I can only masturbate so much, Emerie!”
“Well then don’t.” She smirked. “Find someone pretty to do it for you. Might I suggest Azriel?”
Both Nesta and Gwyn threw their pillows at her head. “That’s over. Destroyed. Dead. And! Might I add! I’m still very horny!”
They all burst out laughing, which only intensified when Emerie rolled off the bed.
“Oh no, your wine!” Gwyn gasped through her giggles. “It’s okay, I have plenty to share.”
Nesta yoinked the bottle from Gwyn’s hand before she had a chance to drink it straight. Either that or pour it into Emerie’s mouth. Gwyn crawled over to her sister, draping herself across Nesta’s lap.
“You’re such a good friend. You’d never let me get too drunk.”
“You’re far past drunk. Luckily for you, I am sober and able to help you through such a time.”
“I’m okay!” Emerie jumped up with her hands in the air. She leaped back onto the bed and joined Gwyn in Nesta’s lap. “Do you want to borrow Mor? She’s very good at getting rid of the horny.” She wiggled her fingers in Gwyn’s face and spread her wings so that they wrapped around Gwyn and Nesta, her legs hanging off the side of Nesta and Cassian’s bed.
“Pimping out Morrigan is probably not a good idea,” Nesta scolded.
“No, not like that!” Emerie pouted. “She is very good though. She does this thing with her tongue that is,” she kissed her fingers like a chef, “amazing.”
Gwyn loved that Emerie was so happy. Approximately a month after the end of her and Azriel, Emerie had sat down her and Nesta and told them she was in love with Mor. Gwyn was elated, and Nesta tried her best to be. It was harder for her. She had such a bitter past with Mor, and Gwyn worried for a moment that Emerie and Mor being together might cause a schism in their group. But to her relief, there was nothing Nesta wouldn’t do for Emerie, and she banished any ghosts between her and Mor. The two were nearly even friends, and it made Cassian’s life easier.
Not that there was any question between who he would choose between. His mate would always win those battles.
Gwyn was also jealous. Not of Mor, but of what Emerie had with Mor. She dreamt of that kind of reciprocated love, of the unrelenting devotion that Mor showed to Emerie.
Gwyn sighed. “Azriel let me sit on his face whenever I wanted. He used to gobble me right up.”
A new round of laughter burst from the group, and Gwyn was happy that she could share this secretive part of her life with them. It had taken her weeks to sit them down and tell them what happened. Or, more accurately, they were so worried about her that they stole her away from the library and begged to know why she was so sad. Nesta had tried in those initial days, but she just waved her off and begged not to ask. Besides, Nesta didn’t need Gwyn to tell her what had happened for her to know. Nesta went from blabbering about them all raising their babies together to watching Gwyn fall apart, Azriel nowhere to be seen.
It had lasted less than two months, yet he felt as much a part of her as her freckles, her hands, her smile.
“Okay okay, I think that’s enough. Bed time for us.” Nesta ushered them off her lap and put their pillows back at the head of the bed. Nesta helped a stumbling Emerie to the bathroom, and Gwyn wiggled into her usual place to wait for her sister to return. Her eyes were already starting to droop, and by the time Nesta and Emerie climbed into bed, she was half-asleep.
Nesta was in the middle, and both Emerie and Gwyn snuggled in close to her. Nesta stroked their hair, willing them to sleep, and Gwyn dozed off with the dream of Nesta and Catrin morphing together.
***
“I just wanted to say goodnight, Sweetheart.”
Gwyn stirred awake, a headache starting to throb. Cassian’s voice woke her, but it was still dark enough that it surely was the middle of the night. He must have been returning from the job Rhys had sent him and Azriel on.
“Goodnight, my love,” Nesta whispered, her voice dripping with unbridled affection.
Half-awake, half-drunk Gwyn was annoyed at the intrusion to their sleep over, and burrowed further into the blankets, her grip on Nesta tightening. She could hear the quiet snore of Emerie from the other side of Nesta, the sound oddly comforting.
“Do they always sleep like that?”
She stiffened at the voice of Azriel. They had barely spoken since their timely demise, and she was still drunk enough to get angry instead of sad at his presence.
“Yes, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Nesta’s arm was around her as Gwyn squished herself into Nesta’s side.
“We’ll leave you to it,” Cassian murmured.
“Don’t do that,” Azriel hissed.
Gwyn was tempted to open her eyes and see what was happening, but she didn’t want to interrupt the moment. She heard feet shuffling, and Azriel’s voice sounder closer when he spoke again.
“Don’t lean over Gwyn like that. You’ll scare her if she wakes up and sees some male standing over her.”
A pause in the room. Gwyn felt Nesta press a kiss to the top of her head.
“You’re right. Sorry. Goodnight, Nes.”
“Night Cas. Night Az.”
***
Gwyn left choir practise with her heart feeling heavy. Usually, singing would uplift her more than anything else, but as of late she struggled to do anything but drag her feet from one task to the next.
Nesta was at her side as much as possible and it made Gwyn feel awfully guilty. Gwyn didn’t eat dinner very often at the House anymore in an effort to make Azriel feel comfortable. She knew that they had told each other they were friends, best friends even, but she didn’t want him to feel like she was forcing her presence on him.
She also had not been sleeping well, at all, but she brushed the memories of her dreams aside before they overtook her.
“Gwyn!”
Speaking of Nesta, Gwyn turned to see her friend waving at her from across the library, a cart full of books at her side. Gwyn didn’t realise Nesta was working this evening and went over to help her put the books away.
“How was practise?” she asked.
“It was nice. Lunathina gave out the solos for our next performance. I didn’t get one. She said that my attitude wasn’t right.”
“Oh Gwyn, I’m sorry. I know you really wanted one.”
“Eh, it doesn’t matter. There’s always next time.” Gwyn shrugged and got to work, prearranging the books in the cart and putting them into alphabetical order so that Nesta could put them away as groups.
“I was thinking maybe you would like to come to the House tonight. It misses you.”
That put a small smile on her face. “How do you know?”
“It still sets out a meal for you or gives us an extra drink like you’ll appear to have it. It’s been sad, Azriel banished it from his room so it wants to give everyone else a bit of extra love.”
Gwyn raised a brow. “What do you mean, Azriel banished the House from his room?”
“It’s something we do sometimes, just ask it to leave for a little while so we can have some privacy, and then it’ll come back in the morning to make sure the fires are lit and our rooms are clean. Never for long though, and it’s been weeks for Azriel. Before you ask why, I genuinely don’t know.”
Gwyn bit her lip, contemplating Nesta’s words. She couldn’t help the worry she felt for Azriel, even if it was over something as silly as not having an omnipresent being clean his room for him. “I only ever see him at training, and we don’t speak. Is he okay?”
Nesta had her back to Gwyn as she put more books on the shelf. “Honestly? I have no idea. Azriel can hide his emotions better than anyone else I know. Cassian is concerned, though. He said it reminds him of how he used to act whenever Mor would sleep with other men to drive him away. But even then he said that usually this mood would only last for a few days before he stopped, and now it’s been over a month.”
Gwyn and Azriel had spoken extensively on his history with Mor – how Azriel had loved her for so long, and it wasn’t until after the war with Hybern that he finally felt like could move on – and now it was evident why she could never love him back. Mor being with Emerie explained something Gwyn could never understand, which is how Mor could possibly not return his love. She understood now that Mor could never hold those romantic feelings for a male, nor spend physical time with Azriel without breaking his fragile heart. It was an awful situation that lasted far longer than it needed to.
Gwyn secretly thought that perhaps Azriel knew deep down Mor would never love him, and that was why he held on so tightly to the idea of her. Maybe, subconsciously, he vied for females he knew ultimately he couldn’t have as a way of protecting himself from having something real – something that could hurt.
Or maybe Gwyn thought that to excuse how she wasn’t enough to make him love her.
“And he hasn’t talked about his feelings to anyone? Not even Cas?”
“Cassian said that Azriel has never really been the one to talk about how he’s feeling. He and Rhys have struggled with it their entire lives. It’s like Az just shuts down and then – wait, oh, Gwyn, I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t be talking about Az so much.”
Gwyn wanted to hug her for being so considerate. Then hit her over the head for not having better intel on Azriel.
“It’s fine, really.” Gwyn considered Nesta’s words. Gwyn had told Azriel that they were friends, and she felt like an awfully neglectful friend right now. Because the thing was, Gwyn never struggled to get Az to speak about how he was feeling. They were unbelievably honest with each other, and she didn’t think about how her absence might feel if he had no one else to share himself with.
He had trusted her with his heart, and she’d left it on the floor when she’d walked away from him all those nights ago.
“I’ll come to dinner, Nesta.”
***
Azriel flew back to Velaris, enjoying the feel of the wind on his face as he soared through the skies. It was the only time he ever felt at peace. Once, he would say that the sky and his bed were his only refuges, but he had thoroughly managed to taint one of those spaces with his own inferiority and weaknesses.
He had a report to give to Rhys, and he planned on roaming the skies again for a while. He didn’t want to go out for dinner, but he also didn’t want to eat sitting across from Nesta and Cassian as they studied and pitied him.
He let himself into their mansion, following the playful shrieks of Nyx to find his High Lord and Lady. Rhys and Nyx were in Nyx’s designated play room, and Rhys was lying on his back holding Nyx in the air, the baby flapping his little wings and pretending to fly. Feyre was nowhere to be seen, and his shadows informed him that she was napping after Nyx had a bad night’s sleep.
“Look who it is!” Rhys cooed at Nyx. “It’s crabby Uncle Az here to grace us with his presence.” Rhys turned Nyx in Azriel’s direction, and Azriel had to admit, some of the heaviness he’d been feeling dissipated at the sight of Nyx grinning at him. At least someone was happy to see him.
Azriel threw the report haphazardly on a desk and picked Nyx right out of Rhys’ grasp, bringing the boy to his chest. He was a real chuncker, and Azriel would be surprised if he didn’t start walking within a few weeks. Nyx’s little hands grabbed at Azriel’s nose, giggling furiously as he tried to steal it right off Azriel’s face.
“You know, it’s rather rude to steal someone’s child,” Rhys said.
“You’ll live.”
Azriel pressed a quick kiss to Nyx’s forehead and handed him back, feeling surprisingly longing as he looked at Rhys with his child.
He turned to leave, but Rhys’ voice stopped him. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Azriel didn’t turn to look at his brother but did stop walking. “I’ve been busy.”
“Not so busy that you haven’t had time to come see us for weeks. Do you want to stay? Feyre misses you.”
“Feyre has a family to keep her occupied.” Azriel turned the knob to the door, and he felt an invisible hand clutch his ankle before he could take another step.
“I thought maybe you would like to talk about things.”
Azriel’s shadows flared around him at the implications. Where they were once silent, they know constantly buzzed with information on her.
She’s barely sleeping. She works from sun up to sun down, and if she’s not in the library she’s training. She only sings if she’s in choir practise, no longer humming as she walks. She only eats one meal a day-
Azriel had to consciously push the information away any time his shadows tried to swarm him with it. He didn’t want to know how much he’d done the one thing he swore he never would – hurt her.
The only thing that stopped him from running to her and begging on his knees for her to give him another chance was the knowledge that, with time, she would heal. And she would give her love to someone far more deserving, someone far better than him.
Fuck. He’d hurt her. He’d hurt her so badly and he fucking hated himself for it.
“I don’t know what you’re referring to, but I’m leaving. Nesta and Cassian are expecting me.” The lie came easily.
“Az,” Rhys’ voice was strained, “please stay.”
“Goodbye.”
“I saw how you looked at her at the restaurant. I know you love-”
“Shut up, Rhys,” Azriel snapped. He regretted it the moment he saw how wide Nyx’s eyes went at the sudden loud noise, and his chest filled with pain as the babe’s lower lip jutted out and his mouth started to crinkle the way it would before a cry.
“Nyx, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be so loud.” He looked at Rhys for permission to take Nyx from his arms, grateful when his brother nodded and handed him over.
Nyx was cooing within no time, and Azriel scolded himself for acting in such a way in front of the baby. He cradled Nyx to his chest, and not for the first time, he was nearly overtaken by the envy he had for his brothers. Rhys had a whole family, a mate and child, and he didn’t need anyone else. Cassian had Nesta, and Azriel doubted it would be long before they too split away to make a real family. Even Mor was now with Emerie, and had confided in him that she thought they were mates, she was just waiting for it all to click into place.
The perfect circle that was Azriel’s family was being cut into perfect slices, and soon, he would be on his own.
“I’m sorry I yelled, Nyx,” Azriel said again, hoping the little boy could understand his remorse. He didn’t know if it was a good sign, but Nyx closed his little eyes and started to doze, his fist bunched in Azriel’s flying leathers.
“Azriel.” Rhys came and put a hand on his shoulder, and Azriel had to make a conscious effort not to shake it off. “I said some stuff about Gwyn that I never would have if I had known. I didn’t realise that she was acting different because she was with you, and I’m so, so fucking sorry.”
“You didn’t believe me when I told you to let it go. I know you opened a formal investigation about her behind my back.”
“How did you-”
“Which you did aftershe came to that restaurant with us. Let’s not pretend that if it hadn’t come up empty you wouldn’t be gloating about being right.” Azriel carefully handed Nyx back, the baby stretching his arms up at the disturbance but staying asleep.
“I had a duty to fulfil, Azriel. Good reasons to check. Now I know there’s no threat, and we can all move on.”
Azriel sighed, pinching his nose. “You can move on. I can clean up the messes you left behind to make sure she never knows about this.”
Azriel later pondered Rhys’ words, wondering how and when the bond with his brother had become less familial and more hierarchical. When he finally flew into the House of Wind, he could hear the gentle voice of Gwyn as she ate with Nesta and Cassian, and Az felt an overwhelming sense of relief that she was back in the House. Not wanting to disturb them, he went to his room, burying himself in his bedding.
***
Azriel waited patiently at the House of Wind, knowing Cassian would arrive with his mother soon. Usually, they would have stayed in the townhouse, but Azriel was feeling petty enough that he didn’t want to reside in something owned by Rhys, nor ask him if he could use it.
Not that that stopped his brother from invading the kitchen. He was stoically standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his usual prim High Lord outfit matching Feyre’s. She was talking with Nesta and Mor, Nyx crawling around their skirts. Even Emerie was here.
One person was notably missing. The one person Azriel truly wanted here.
He heard the familiar sounds of Cassian’s wings beating and a twinkled laughter that could only belong to one. Some of the tension eased in him at the sound, and for the first time in a while, he looked forward to the coming days.
His mother was proper as she walked in, her back straight and shoulders back. She still wore the standard uniform of a maid. It was not the same one he’d grown up seeing her wear. No, she had not donned the dress of his father since Rhys had become High Lord.
Azriel had invited her many times to come live in Velaris, but after constant declines, he learned to stop asking.
Her face became radiant when she saw him and she rushed to his side. She was nearly as tall as him, and she always used it to her advantage to baby him. He happily welcomed it, hugging her tightly as she peppered kisses to his face like he was a toddler.
“Oh baby boy, I missed you.”
Az scrunched his nose, leaning away to inspect her. She looked healthy. She looked happy. That was enough.
Her assessment of him was not so glowing. As she looked over his sunken face and glaring shadows, concern laced itself into her joy. “Have you been eating?” she asked, ever motherly.
“Yes.”
“And sleeping?”
“Yes.”
She turned to Rhys and Cassian. “Is that true?”
Rhys answered yes the same time Cassian said no, and Azriel slid that into his mental notes for later so that he could reprimand Cassian for worrying his mother.
Before his mother could say anything else, he spread his arms to present her to the room. “Mother, I would like to introduce you to High Lady Feyre.”
Feyre stepped forward, excitement glittering all over her. Feyre was eager to meet his mother, wanting to have any shred of past that the Illyrian males she called her family could offer. And after all, she was the only one of their mothers who was still alive.
Azriel’s mother approached her, taking Feyre’s hands in hers. “Hello, sweet one. It is lovely to meet you.”
“And you.” Feyre squeezed her hands back before turning to Nesta and Emerie. “This is my sister Nesta and our friend Emerie-”
“The first females in the Bloodrite, and one of the few winners. How could I not know who you are?” Azriel’s mother beamed at them, and Nesta stepped forward to shake her hand. Azriel thought it rather endearing. Nesta wasn’t the biggest fan of touching unless it was with those whom she loved, and another small part of him eased to see his dear friend making an effort with his mother.
“Welcome to our home,” Nesta said. “Cassian, Azriel and I hope you find it to your liking.”
“In all my years I’ve never made it up to the foreboding mansion of the mountains. I’m excited to see the place that Rhys’ mother spoke so fondly of.” She turned and opened her arms to Cassian and Rhys, the former enthusiastically throwing himself into her arms. If there was one thing you could always count on Cassian for, it was unparalleled affection. Azriel’s mother laughed lightly at his antics. Cassian was acting like he hadn’t just flown her all the way here from Illyria.
Rhys eased her away from Cassian, giving her a hug of his own. Azriel could hear his mother speaking, “You have made yourself such a beautiful family my dear, congratulations,” but chose to instead turn away and approach Feyre, who had picked up Nyx in the anticipation of shoving him into Azriel’s mother’s arms.
Mor greeted her next, and Azriel ignored their conversation in lieu of brushing non-existent dust off the surfaces in the House. Mor and his mother speaking always made him feel unnerved, like it was two untouchable parts of his life colliding together. There was the childhood part of him – the dark rooms and the pain and the dehumanisation – and then there was the version of himself that he became after his mother made the ultimate sacrifice in sending him away – the cursed warrior with scarred hands but, above all else, power.
“Would you like a tour of the House?” Nesta offered, Cassian walking to her side and putting an arm around her waist. He looked so damn proud of being able to show off his mate that it made Azriel want to dig a very big hole and hide in it, but in the name of his love for them both, he refrained from it.
Feyre had finally squirreled Nyx into his mother’s hands, and she was bumping him up and down to make him laugh.
“Aren’t we waiting?” she asked.
“Waiting for what?” Rhys tilted his head and narrowed his eyes curiously.
“Waiting for Gwyneth.”
The room went silent, and Azriel hated how all their eyes turned to him. Of course they knew of everything. Cassian, Nesta and Emerie unsurprisingly, not that he would have expected nor wanted anything else, but how could he expect Emerie not to tell Mor now that they were lovers? How could he expect Feyre and Rhys not to whisper amongst themselves at his failures?
“I didn’t know you knew of Gwyn,” Emerie said, her smile welcoming but her eyes wary at the mention of her sister.
“Of course, she won the Bloodrite alongside you.”
“Oh yes, of course.” Emerie tapped her head in embarrassment.
“And Azriel talks about her quite frequently.”
“Really?” Rhys practically squeaked from behind them. The sound of a thwacksounded throughout the room. Feyre stood innocently next to Rhys smiling while he rubbed his back.
“Yes.” Azriel’s mother turned to Emerie. “Azriel writes to me every few weeks. He told me of the training you do here with the females. The Valkyrie were the mightiest of warriors, it’s good to see their memory being upheld.” She moved over to Az and pinched his cheek. The hole looked more and more enticing with every minute passed. “The amount he talks about her, you should have seen her cut the ribbon, she was the first to come train, she’s the bravest warrior I have, it’s very clear he has a bias in his students. She must be your favourite, right Azriel?”
Azriel’s face was red at her words. His favourite student, ha! That was one way to put it.
“I’ve been so excited to meet the young lady, will she be here soon?”
Nesta, who Azriel owed his life to in this moment, answered for him. “Gwyn works in the library, mostly as a research assistant. She’s a very hard worker, and unfortunately won’t be able to make it. Perhaps you could come see us train tomorrow.”
“Won’t she be joining us for dinner?”
“Gwyn prefers to stay in the library or House,” Emerie answered. “As we’ll be going into the city, Gwyn will stay here.”
Azriel’s mother looked disappointed at the news, and he tried to remember all the times he had mentioned Gwyn in his letters since he’d met her. Surely it wasn’t that much. The look on his mother’s face though had him doubting himself, and he made another note to himself not to mention her from this day forward.
Suddenly she clapped, any disappointed erasing from her. “I have an idea, let’s just go to her! We can go find her in the library.”
Bombarding Gwyn with his mother in the library? No, absolutely not.
“That’s not possible I’m afraid. Males can’t just enter the library, there’s steps that need to be followed if we want to go in there. You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow, mother.” Azriel would have Nesta warn Gwyn tonight.
“Then I’ll go with Nesta while you ready yourself for dinner. You need to take a shower, dear. And some fresh clothes would do you some good.” She patted him on the head as though she hadn’t just implied that he smelt.
Azriel looked to Nesta, willing them to have their first telepathic moment. Before either of them had the chance to say something, Rhys piqued up from behind them.
“That sounds like a lovely idea.”
***
Gwyn willed herself to remember that she liked reading, but by the Cauldron the historical texts in front of her were boring to the point where her eye lids felt heavy. She was slumped over a desk, her head resting in her hand, and her yawns overtook her whole body. Maybe she went a little too hard in training this morning. But she’d heard some of the women whispering about Azriel’s glorious physique, and she’d had to pummel the shit out of a multitude of things to get the picture of Azriel with other females out of her head. She knew nothing would ever happen between him and anyone she knew, but she had to brace herself for the inevitability that he would move on, if he hadn’t already.
“Is that her?”
“Yes.”
The sound of Nesta’s voice revived her, and she blinked heavily as she turned to look for her.
She was not expecting to see Nesta standing next to an Illyrian female she had never seen before.
She had dark hair and amber eyes, a startingly familiar shade, and carried her wings in the same distinct way Emerie did. They’d been clipped then. She was much taller than Gwyn. She was wearing a tan uniform, and Gwyn could see a hint of scars lacing up her wrist and collar. Under her gaze, the female adjusted her clothes, hiding the ghosts of old injuries from Gwyn.
She must be a new recruit. Gwyn remembered how scared she was when she first came to the library, how isolated and despaired she felt. It had taken many warm welcomes and friendly faces for her to adjust, and she hoped she could be that for this Illyrian.
Taking inspiration from Catrin, Nesta and Emerie, she put the brightest, most loving smile she could manage, trying to exude acceptance.
“Hello there,” she said. She stood up, walking over to Nesta and their new friend. “I’m Gwyn, it’s lovely to meet you.”
The woman said her name in a flurry, rushing forward to Gwyn. Gwyn squashed her exclaim when the new woman pulled her into her arms, hugging her tightly. Gwyn, somewhat shocked that a new resident of the library would so immediately want another’s touch, hugged her back, subtly trying to spit out the hair that had made it into her mouth at the sudden movement.
“You are exactly as I pictured,” she said, her eyes alight as she stepped back and looked Gwyn up and down.
“As you pictured…?”
“Yes,yes. After you won the Bloodrite, many Lords tried to keep secret what had happened. But something like that cannot be swept under the rug. There are stories of you three all through the camps. We would tell them in the kitchen, whisper them in empty hallways, any way someone could spread the word that three females, all of different decent, had won the Bloodrite.”
Gwyn didn’t know how to respond to the knowledge of her new-found infamy.
“You should come to dinner tonight, I would love to hear the story from you three ladies first-hand. My baby boy gave me some of the details but bless his heart he isn’t much of a storyteller.”
“You have a son?” An Illyrian son at that. Had he been in the Bloodrite? Had Gwyn faced him without even knowing? And this woman had left him to be here? Gwyn was horrified at what that meant, what awful event must have befallen her for her to need to leave her life and family to reside in the library.
“Yes, of course I do.”
“Gwyn,” Nesta thankfully interrupted, “her son is Azriel.”
Gwyn stopped dead. “As in my- as in Azriel, Azriel? Azriel who you live with Azriel?” She’d nearly said my Azriel, but that was as inappropriate as it was inaccurate. Azriel wasn’t heranything. Barely even her friend these days.
“I feel like I already know you,” Azriel’s mother said as though this wasn’t a huge revelation. “He speaks incredibly highly of you.”
Gwyn tried to keep the look of utter shock off her face; she wasn’t sure how successful she was. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t recognise you, but I’ve heard so much about you too. Azriel and I used to joke that you and my mother would be the greatest of friends.”
“Well, where is she? I would like to make another friend.”
“Oh, she died. Sorry, I now realise that I made it sound like she was still alive-”
“My dear, you never need to apologise to me.” The look she gave Gwyn was motherhood embodied, and it was every expression Gwyn had seen on her own’s mother’s face time and time again.
“I was hoping you would consider coming to dinner with us tonight. It is of my understanding that you don’t like Velaris very much.”
Gwyn’s breath shuddered, the familiar anxiety at the suggestion of going into the city started to beat through her veins. “It’s not that, I love Velaris. I just – I just, it’s just that.” Nesta looked like she might step in, so Gwyn steeled herself. “Will Azriel be there?” They mightn’t be… whatever the hell they were, but she could do this if he was there.
But what if he didn’t want her there? He might not know his mother was here asking her. What if Gwyn went into the city and needed him and he wouldn’t help her? Ugh, but that was stupid. Of course he would help her. There was not a single part of him that would hesitate if she needed him. But she also didn’t want to take his time away from him. His mother was here after all, and she knew how seldom he saw her.
Azriel’s mother put her fingertips on Gwyn’s temples. “Lots of thoughts going on up here.”
Gwyn nodded.
“I understand your hesitance. There are still places I avoid, even after hundreds of years.”
Gwyn didn’t need to ask why. Azriel had gone into painful detail about his past, and she revered the strength his mother had in the sacrifices she’d made for him, for her endless love for the son she could have dismissed.
“My son will be there. It’s my understanding that the entirety of the group he has for himself will be, including your Nesta and Emerie. But I understand if it’s not the right time.”
Gwyn swallowed hard. “What time should I meet you all at the House?”
***
Azriel knew that the first day or two of his mother’s visit he’d have to share her around, not that he minded. He also knew that, like everyone, she’d gravitate towards Nyx. So, he watched from the sidelines with Cassian as his mother asked Feyre and Rhys every question under the sun. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to ask her about meeting Gwyn, and Nesta hadn’t returned from the library with his mother, so he couldn’t interrogate her either.
When his shadows finally informed him Nesta was coming back, they conveniently left out the part where Gwyn was with her.
So they were back to playing that game with him.
He lost his ability to breathe when he saw her. She looked the same as she always did – beautiful. Half her hair was braided away from her face, the rest falling down her back. It was the first time he’d seen her outside of training since he’d crushed them.
It took everything in him not to run to her. When he looked into her eyes, he knew she was having the same struggle.
“Gwyn, I’m glad you could make it,” his mother said, approaching her. She patted Gwyn on the arm before addressing the room. “Are we ready to go?”
A chorus of yeses and curious glances followed her question, the latter aimed at Gwyn. She shrugged her shoulders at Emerie and avoided looking at Rhys and Feyre. She must be under the impression that they didn’t like her. Mental note number three, confront them both so that Gwyn doesn’t think she’s not welcome.
“Azriel, be a gentleman and offer to fly with Gwyn,” his mother chastised, moving over to Rhys so they could fly together. Feyre would be taking Nyx, Cassian with Nesta and Emerie, and Mor planned on just jumping off the side of the building until she could winnow – a technique that always made him roll his eyes.
Azriel approached Gwyn. His heart felt like it was full of fireflies and sweat started to coat his hands. Send him to war and he was as steady as a mountain, send him to Gwyn and he was the fitful sea in a storm.
His family departed around them, and soon they were left standing alone. Azriel had no doubt they’d done it intentionally, and he didn’t know whether to be grateful or not.
“Hi,” she breathed.
“Hey.” He stepped towards her slowly, trying to calm his heartbeat as he did.
“I – I don’t have to come, if it makes you uncomfortable,” she whispered.
“What? No. No, you could never – Gwyn, I would never feel uncomfortable around you.”
She nodded.
“Gwyn-” he said at the same time she said “Az.”
They both laughed lightly. “You first,” she said.
“I’m surprised you’re coming tonight. I hope my mother didn’t pressure you.”
“No, not at all. She just made a rather compelling case.”
“What case would that be?”
“She said you’d be here.” Gwyn swallowed hard.
Azriel nodded, understanding. He might not understand the nuance of how Gwyn was feeling if not for the fact that they had faced this same predicament before. The feeling that settled in his chest knowing that she trusted him so implicitly to go into the city not once, but twice, had him bowing his head before her.
How badly he wanted to touch her – stroke the soft skin on her arms, settle a hand on her back, twine his fingers in her hair.
If he flew her into the city, how could be ever let her go?
She closed the distance between them, her hands tentatively landing on his shoulders. Soon, they would wrap around his neck as he held her like a bride, flying them through the city. But before that, he needed to know he could endure just this touch without breaking apart and begging for her forgiveness.
She came closer, her arms wrapping around him and her body pressing into his. She could surely hear his rapid heartbeat.
“Azriel.”
“Yes, Gywneth?”
“It might be a little hard to fly with me if you don’t touch me.” She tilted her head back to look into his eyes, and he was pained when he saw the hurt there. “Is this too much?” She stepped back from him, but he matched every step, keeping them only inches away from each other.
“It is not too much,” he assured her, voice deep.
“I don’t want you to feel obligated.”
He couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped him. He cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head towards him. Her eyes met his, and the temptation to kiss her was nearly too much. Instead, he said, “You are my best friend, Gwyneth Berdara. My favourite person. It is not, nor will it ever be, an obligation to spend time with you.”
She sighed softly, and laid her hands over his, linking her fingers. “I’ve missed being friends.”
“Me too.” I’ve missed you, is what he wanted to really say, but that felt like too much pressure to put on her. As much as it pained him to spend even a single second away from her, he knew she made the right decision when telling him they could not just happen once. Azriel would have spent his whole life dedicating himself to her, but it would have been a disservice to her. There was so much in this world that she hadn’t seen, and whoever the person was that would complete her, be her equal, her happiness, was not him. For they were not the same; he could never be as wholly good as her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and this time he did not flinch from the touch. Handling her carefully, he put one hand around her waist while the other picked up her legs. Holding her the way Cassian had held Nesta the day of their wedding ceremony when he’d marched her across the threshold, Azriel spread his wings and flew.
***
A truce had been called, and Gwyn was glad for it.
In Azriel’s arms, everything just seemed so right. She also decided to acquiesce to her trust in him; if Azriel said that she neither made him uncomfortable nor was an obligation, she would believe him. Even if it was just so she could be closer to him.
The way she missed him was unlike any way she had felt before. Like the way she could acknowledge her love for people were different although equal, like the way she loved Emerie and Nesta was different to the way she loved Cassian, which was different to the way she loved her mother, the way she missed Azriel was a feeling she had yet to experience.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew what this meant. She had after all read over a hundred romance novels just this year.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Az said, his grip on her tightening.
“I’m just enjoying the view.” She rested her head on his shoulder, the sun set bathing them in a warm, orange light.
“Me too.” But he was looking at her.
***
The restaurant they were in reminded Gwyn of the dining hall her and Catrin frequented at Sangravah’s temple. It was huge, the ceilings high and echo-y, the floor a deep brown with matching wooden tables. Whatever this building was when it had originally been erected, it wasn’t as a restaurant. Towards the back, there was live music playing while people danced, but towards the front of the restaurant, where they were seated, it was nice background noise instead of blaring.
Gwyn sat next to Nesta and Azriel and across from Feyre and Rhys. Gwyn silently wished she’d been closer to Emerie instead of the High Lord and High Lady. She didn’t know why, but they did not seem to like her very much anymore. Was it possible they’d learnt of her deal with Azriel, and their odd looks and side glances were their silent disapproval?
She ignored them by gorging herself on food and chatting with Azriel’s mother. She sat at the head of the table, Azriel was on the end, and was a fascinating person. Sometimes Gwyn forgot that the majority of people at this table were pushing it to their sixth century, and hearing Azriel’s mother speak of her life was enrapturing. Azriel and Rhys occasionally butted in, and poor Az had to endure Gwyn practically sitting in his lap as she leaned over him to better hear his mother. His hand on her lower back to steady her showed her that he didn’t mind, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t taking advantage. She wanted to be close to him.
When the food had been demolished and many stories told, they started taking fruitive looks at the fae dancing to the live music. Feyre and Rhys were the first to go, closely followed by Azriel’s mother, who decided that the giggling Nyx would be the perfect dance partner. Nesta kept sneaking glances at Gwyn, who eventually shooed her away to go dance with her mate.
Then it was just Az, Mor, Emerie and Gwyn, so they shuffled to be closer together. Mor and Emerie’s hands were entwined, and it brought a smile to Gwyn’s face. She had heard many things since they’d announced their love for one another but had yet to see it in action. She was glad to see how content Mor looked, no hesitation to be seen. Good. It was what Emerie deserved.
It also explained the weird looks she used to get from Morrigan, which were now simply hilarious when they used to be unsettling. Mor was jealous of all things, but the thought of Gwyn and Emerie being anything other than sisters was preposterous.
“Why are you squirming like that?” Mor drawled to Azriel, who had been shifting in his seat for the last twenty minutes.
He didn’t answer, just stared at her.
“You okay?” Gwyn asked, resting a hand on his knee.
“Yes.” He paused. “I need to use the bathroom. Will you be okay here?”
Oh Mother, she had nearly forgotten how sweet he was. But it was clear he’d been sitting in discomfort so that he didn’t have to leave her. Gwyn didn’t know if she could bare losing him, not when she’d only just gotten him back.
“I’ll be fine.” She added a smile to assure him, and he nodded. He scanned the area around them, and once deeming them safe, headed towards the back of the restaurant, closer to the music and amenities.
When Azriel had ducked into one of the rooms, Gwyn turned back to her friends, wanting to interrogate them on all things love-related. Before she had a chance, Mor grabbed them each by the hand, a wild smile on her face.
“Let’s dance.”
Emerie shook her head. “We’re not leaving Gwyn alone.”
“No, all three of us.”
Emerie raised a brow and said in a hushed voice, “We talked about this-”
“No, no, not like that,” Mor laughed. “A friendly dance. I want to move my body.” The eyes Mor gave Emerie gave Gwyn quite the hint on how Mor intended to move her body, hopefully not until they were in their own home and bed.
Emerie bit back a smile, turning to Gwyn. “Would you like to dance with us?”
Oddly enough, Gwyn’s answer was yes. She wanted to feel as free as Morrigan did.
Mor led them to the dance floor, where they held hands in a circle and just twirled. Nesta and Cassian, neither of whom had drunk that night, cheered them on. Mor definitely had her fair share though, her hair loose and mind unencumbered with worry. Gwyn envied that, hoping she could one day be the same. Whatever Mor was doing, she wanted in.
They had only been there a minute when they were approached by a stranger. He was the tall, dark and handsome type that Gwyn had become used to reading about in her novels, and although she could see the eyes of many males and females staring at him in unabashed desire, she found him… lacking. Perhaps she applied mediocrity to him because, to put it plainly, he did not compare to what she’d already had.
“Ladies.” He nodded to them, a smirk on his pretty face. He looked at their hands. “How would you like to dance?”
Gwyn couldn’t help her cackle. “Sorry, they’re not interested.” She tried to humble herself, but the thought of a male getting between Emerie and Mor – that was nothappening, and it amused her endlessly.
“I wasn’t asking them.” He was focused on just her now.
Oh.
It made her feel…
How did she feel? Were the pricks in her stomach uneasiness or anticipation? She wasn’t attracted to him, that she knew for sure, but did she not just wish to be more like Morrigan? She knew what Mor would do – she would push her own boundaries.
Emerie opened her mouth to dismiss him, but Gwyn interrupted her.
“Okay.”
Emerie blanched in shock, and subtly moved to her side, throwing an arm around her shoulders seemingly haphazardly before whispering in her ear.
“What are you doing?”
Gwyn pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m trying to be like everyone else.”
Catrin would have danced with him. Catrin spread her love like it was the snow in winter, she would have danced with anybody.
Gwyn took his outstretched hand, noticing the looks Cassian and Nesta gave her. Nesta stepped forward to intervene, stopped only by Cassian’s hand on her forearm.
“What is your name?” she asked the male as they stepped to the side. She dropped his hand, facing him. She wouldn’t touch him, and he wasn’t allowed to touch her yet either, but swaying in the general vicinity of one another counted as dancing, did it not?
Her hands were behind her back, her back straight. The message was clear: no touching.
“Elvin. Yours?”
“Nes.”
She didn’t even know why she lied, it just felt like too much to have this man in front of her and know her name. She wasn’t ready to reveal the parts of her identity that actually mattered. To him, she was just going to be a girl that danced.
He took a step forward. She took a step back.
“Is this how you dance with everyone?” he asked.
“Just those I don’t know,” she answered. Her breathing was becoming laboured, and this time she knew why. It was trepidation. She calmed herself the way any Valkyrie would, and persevered.
“We could know each other. You just have to come a bit closer.”
She let him inch closer but did not let their bodies touch. She guessed he was kind of attractive, not a bad place to start. She was surrounded by people that would go to combat for her in a second if needed, and she was more than able to fend for herself thanks her daily training. Azriel was just one shout away. She would be safe here.
Bracing herself, she raised her hands and let them fall on his shoulders. His smirk turned to a more genuine smile, and he thankfully kept his hands at his side as they swayed.
“Velaris isn’t a very big city, and I can’t say I’ve seen you before,” he said.
“I grew up in Sangravah,” Gwyn told him. After a moment of pause, she continued. “You may put your hands atop mine.” An odd dancing position, but one she was some-what okay with.
His eyes softened at her words. “I see.” He laid his hands atop hers, putting his arms into an odd angle. She tried not to laugh at how silly it was, but she was grateful he wasn’t pushing her.
The music was nice, but the back of her head burned from the intense looks she was getting from her sisters. It made her grin, knowing they were trying not to pounce.
It was not them she should have been taking note of.
She saw the door open first, Azriel finally coming out of the bathroom. He looked to the table, his brows furrowing, before quickly scanning the crowd and spotting her with Elvin. She couldn’t place the look on his face, but she did see Rhys step towards him, who Azriel shoved aside.
The shadows enveloped her first, then his wings as Azriel descended upon them. He didn’t even need to speak, his powerful body doing it all for him. He stepped between her and Elvin, his shadows wrapping around her ankles and waist.
“You’re done here,” he hissed at Elvin before turning away from him, his wings bristling with the promise of violence.
Elvin’s eyes widened in fear, and he backed off with him hands up, muttering apologies to the Shadowsinger.
Gwyn could have sworn the music stopped. That everyone was looking at her and judging her, but when Azriel swept her into his grasp she realised they hadn’t made a scene at all. Azriel had kept them hidden in his shadows.
“If you wanted to dance,” he rasped, “you should have asked me.” His lips were brushing against her ear, and the feeling made her arch into his chest.
“And you should know I can handle myself. I’m not the same female you met all those years ago. You should know that better than anyone.”
His hands slid around her waist, pulling her tighter against him. Still bathed in his shadows, she let her head fall back in bliss at the feeling.
“I know you are more than capable, Gwyneth Berdara. ButI am not capable of seeing you with another male’s hands on you.”
She fisted the front of his shirt. This was all too familiar. His hands, her heartbeat, the pulse she felt between her legs. Mere hours since their first conversation after ending things and she could already feel the slickness between her thighs at his touch.
Instead of feeling satisfied with the feeling, it ignited an anger in her. Who was he to cause a scene? Who was he to say he couldn’t bear to see her with other males?
She shoved him off her, glad when he stumbled a few steps. The general patrons of the dance floor might not have noticed their skirmish, but Gwyn hated how the eyes of everyone she knew had landed on them.
Behind the band, she noticed an exit door. Stiffening in resolve, she grabbed Azriel by one of the loops of his belt and hauled him with her until they were in an alley behind the restaurant. She slammed the door behind them, glad that they were outside instead of in some supply closet.
The wind was intense in the tunnel, its coldness tearing through her and making her hair whip around her face. It barely concealed her fury.
“You can’t do that,” she spat at him.
“Do what?” he raised his hands in surrender.
“Today was the first time we’ve spoken in over a month because I told you that I had feelings for you. Which you don’t return, and that’s fine, and I never expected that, never dreamed that I would have your affections, but fucking hell Azriel do you know what it does to me, to my body, when you talk to me like that?”
His gaze darkened, and she saw his tongue flick over his bottom lip. “What does it do, Gwyn?”
“You know what it does,” she bit out, her hands shaking. She turned her back to him, facing the wall of a multi-storey building. She hoped its occupants wouldn’t hear their row.
The sudden warmness of his body alerted her to his presence. “I am your friend, Gwyn.”
“Apparently.”
“Gwyn.” He ran a single finger down her back, and the small touch had no right feeling as good as it did. “You’re my best friend.”
“As I’ve heard.”
“I would do anything for you.” His hands were on her waist, and then her back was to his chest. His lips pressed against her neck, the sudden touch making her gasp. “Anything.”
***
Her body had been on his all night. The way she so casually draped herself across him had him near feral with his desire for her. For decorum’s sake, he’d kept it together. Mostly. It was hard to hide his raging desire when a certain part of him wouldn’t behave. When he’d excused himself to discreetly deal with the erection that just wouldn’t budge – and by deal, he meant quickly stroke himself to completion so he could feel an ounce of relief – he never expected to come out of the bathroom and see that.
Gwyn. A male. His hands touching her precious skin.
Azriel did not like losing control. But seeing her like that? It was his worst fears come to fruition. She wasn’t getting it from him, so she was turning to someone else, and it made jealously rip through him.
“Anything,” he rasped. “Any way you want. Anywhere you want.” He pressed another kiss to her neck, letting his teeth lightly graze her skin. It had the intended effect, a small moan escaping her. Yes, his Gwyn liked to bite.
“Cauldron, you are so insufferable.” She turned and grabbed him by his shirt, spinning him and slamming his back into the wall behind them. He opened his mouth to apologise, but was silenced when she pressed her lips to his.
He wasted no time in reciprocating, a deep moan escaping him as her tongue dipped into his mouth. She pressed herself into him, her hands wrapping around his neck, reverently kissing him.
His hands slid down her back, grasping the ass he’d dreamt about endlessly over the past month when he’d desperately pleasured himself to the thought of her. He hitched one of her legs up, angling her so that he could press his length into her. It elicited a moan from her, and she gently grinded her hips forward to rub her core against him. All her weight rested on him, and he wanted her closer: now.
He picked her up by the back of her thighs, wrapping her legs around him. He spun them so he could press her into the wall, her body held up by the pressure of him. He did not break the kiss once, just hitched her higher so that they were eye to eye.
She whispered his name like a strangled prayer, and it made him break away to start kissing down her neck, focusing on the spots he knew were extra sensitive.
“Az, Az, please, I need more.”
He moved his hips against hers. The only thing stopping his dick from rubbing against her clit was the clothes between them, and he knew this was one of her favourite ways to get off. Before, when they still only touched themselves, she would sometimes just gyrate against him until she came, loving the friction and time it took for her orgasm to climb. He lived for the moments when she would bite her lip and eyes would glaze over.
“What do you want?”
The glaze was starting in her eyes now, and Azriel knew it wouldn’t take much to make her come. He wondered how much she had since they’d ended, if her hand had dipped between her thighs at the thought of him or one of her filthy books.
She peered around the alley, making sure there was no one to see them. Azriel was confident they wouldn’t be caught, his shadows would alert him to anyone coming too close, but he thought that maybe she liked the risk of getting caught. Afterall, she had once jerked him off in the middle of a bar.
“How much can we do without getting caught?” she asked.
Azriel grinned. “Hold onto my shoulders.”
He walked them a few paces to the right where there was a windowsill at his shoulder height. With no effort at all, he lifted her up until she was seated on its edge. Her hands moved from his body to brace herself against the sill, and her chest heaved as she looked down at him.
“What are you doing?” she breathed.
“I didn’t get dessert after dinner, and I’m craving something sweet.”
He lifted her dress up, ducking under it. Encased by its warmth, he pressed a mouth to her inner thigh to encourage her to spread her legs. She eagerly did, and he wasted no time in pushing aside her panties and swiping his tongue up her centre.
He wished he could have seen her as he flicked his tongue in the places he knew she loved. He could picture her though, arms on the side of the window frame and head moving back and forward as she arched her neck back in pleasure while also wanting to watch him please her. She put her feet on his shoulders and spread her knees, and he growled at the access it gave him.
“I hope no one’s home,” he teased her.
“Let them watch. Let them see what you do to me,” she groaned.
Azriel was right, she was already on the precipice before he’d even touched her, and he had her coming twice before peppering kisses to her thighs and letting her down from the ledge. She wrapped herself up in him immediately, their kisses hot and wet as she undoubtedly tasted herself on him.
“Azriel,” she said, her voice low and full of promise.
He hummed against her, moving his lips back to her neck.
“Azriel,” she said again, his hands moving back to her ass.
“Yes?”
“Fuck me. Right now.”
That stopped him in his tracks. “Huh?” He stopped kissing her, brushing the hair off her forehead as he looked her in the eyes.
She lowered them, a mischievous grin on her face. “You heard me,” she whispered. “Fuck me. Here. I’m sick of not knowing how you’d feel inside me.”
He seriously considered it. Just fucking her against the wall and releasing into her, his name nothing but a scream on her lips. Even in an alley he could make her feel good, make it worth her while.
“No,” he said without hesitation. “The first time I fuck you is not going to be in some random street.”
Her brows furrowed slightly, her kiss-swollen lips parting at his words. “First time? Does that mean you want there to be a second time?”
Yes, fuck yes more than anything,now, again, and forever I want to be with you, he thought, but he didn’t say the words aloud. Because his conundrum from before was still an issue. If he let himself have her, it would only lead to their fiery demise when she realises how being with him like that would be to sully herself.
A small part of him thought that she was able to make these decisions for herself, and if he’s what she wanted he should oblige her, but he quashed the irrational thought.
And just like before, his silence, his hesitancy, was all the answer she needed.
“Fuck,” she whispered, her face falling. She shoved herself away from him, covering her face with her hands. The pain that shook her was unabashed and powerful, and he wanted to beg for her forgiveness – for the pain he was causing her now, and the pain he’d surely cause her in the future.
Her shoulders quaked with the force of the sob that wracked her, but any subsequent cries she swallowed.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Az,” she shuddered. “Fuck, why do I keep doing this to myself?”
“Gwyneth…”
“Don’t. Just… don’t, Azriel.”
She walked away from him, taking the door back inside and never once looking back.
***
That night, she woke up with a scream, the nightmares that had been haunting her for weeks now in full force. She grabbed a robe and ran, wishing she could go to Azriel, but going somewhere else instead.
***
Azriel tried to be present for his mother over the coming days, but his thoughts were clouded with Gwyn. She didn’t come to training. She didn’t leave the library. He knew she was alive and safe, his shadows informed him of her happenings constantly, and his mother would often leave his side to visit her. She was quite taken with Gwyn, liking her the way Azriel had dreamed she would.
Nesta and Cassian had tried to speak with him, Nesta especially seemed worried, but he brushed them off. If Gwyn hadn’t told them, he would respect her wish for privacy.
He distracted himself as best as he could. He took his mother to his favourite places throughout Velaris, and even some of the small towns throughout the Night Court that he had always found charming. They were sometimes joined by others, but mostly his family let him have his mother to himself. They somehow talked nearly every minute without ever actually talking about anything, and anytime his mother tried to bring up Gwyn, he promptly changed the subject.
She particularly liked a small beach down that only had a population of just under a thousand, and Azriel thought maybe if she didn’t want Velaris, he could find her a place like this. Out in the countryside, the fae were far more diverse, not held to the strict no-one-in-no-one-out policy that Velaris had been under for hundreds of years. It meant you would see all types of folk, like the nymphs that Gwyn hailed from, instead of just stuffy high-fae.
Then it was her last day, and despite knowing better, he asked her what he knew she’d say no to.
“Would you like to stay? No one is living in the townhouse anymore, and I know Rhys would be thrilled if you were there. You would be so close to us, and you could go to more of the sessions in Feyre’s studio, I know how much you’ve enjoyed them. You can steal Nyx whenever you want to, and Cassian will probably have babies soon, and just imagine how rambunctious they would be.”
She just shook her head, pulling him into a loving embrace.
Rhys had asked to be the one to take her back to Illyria, and Azriel was fine with that arrangement. Rhys knew Azriel didn’t like returning to Illyria. It was worse when it was because of his mother. When he left, he felt like he was abandoning her, and it brought up things from his childhood that he’d rather not remember.
Azriel met them at Rhys and Feyre’s mansion at dusk, and Rhys flew away with her soon after. He could have winnowed, but Azriel’s mother liked the feeling of flying too much.
Azriel spread his wings to leave too, but he was stopped by Feyre’s hand tugging on his arm. “Want to come inside?” she asked, her eyes hopeful.
Azriel remembered his resolve to speak to Feyre and Rhys about making Gwyn uncomfortable. Perhaps this was a good time, then he didn’t have to speak to Rhys, but all the information would be conveyed to him anyway.
Azriel nodded, and followed Feyre inside, a freshly toddling Nyx walking – or more accurately stumbling – in front of them.
“He’ll be flying in no time,” Azriel chuckled lightly, enjoying watching his nephew plod around.
“Don’t remind me, he’s hard to keep up with as it is,” Feyre laughed, guiding Nyx into one of the many lounge rooms. Once he was happy playing with some toys, gurgling away in words Azriel couldn’t understand but always responded to with the appropriate coos.
“Take a seat, I’ll get us some tea.”
“That won’t be necessary, I won’t be here for long.”
Her face fell ever so slightly. “You won’t be?”
“No, I just want to talk.” He paced around the room. “I would like it if you and Rhys had more subtlety in your feelings for Gwyn. She knows you don’t like her, and it’s making her uncomfortable. It’s not fair that just because we-” he broke himself off, shaking his head to try and regain his thoughts. “It’s not fair that she’s made to feel like that in her own space, with
In honour of this blog turning five years old, I thought I would treat you all to a two part/chapter Gwynriel fic that has been wandering around in my brain throughout countless days of lockdown and tortuous university classes.
I’m already well underway with part 2 of this fic, but I do have some assignments coming up, so expect it within the fortnight!
So please do enjoy this nearly 15k words worth of Gwynriel goodness <3
Azriel had always paid special attention to Gwyn – not that he would tell her that, of course. It was a secret held deep in his shadows that she was his favourite Valkyrie, the one he thought the most brave and resilient. It would not be an unpopular opinion if he did share it, the other women looked at her with great admiration, and Nesta often sung her praises when the female wasn’t there to refute her words. But Azriel knew the presumptions people might make if they knew he thought it, and the last thing he wanted was for a misunderstanding to make Gwyn uncomfortable.
Gwyn was holding a bag for Emerie to kick, her stance strong enough that she didn’t flinch at all with each pummel. Her focus should have been on Emerie’s form, but rather her teal eyes were glued to him. Every time Azriel looked over at her, she quickly shifted her gaze to her friend, but his shadows constantly reminded him that Gwyn was once again paying her attention to him.
Cassian called the end of the session. Azriel was grateful, he was finding it harder and harder to train the women effectively when he knew Gwyn was right there.
He practically fled the scene, his cheeks brushed with red, barely nodding to the women who said their thanks to him as he passed. It’s not that he didn’t like her attention, but it made his stomach feel heavy, his hands shake, and he didn’t like how out of control he felt whenever she looked at him like that.
He settled in the dining room. Standing, he braced his hands on the table, a bead of sweat dripping off his forehead and tarnishing the wood. Nesta wouldn’t like if he got his sweat all over the table, even though her and Cassian had coated it in far more scandalous bodily fluids. He should do something productive, like work or eat or pester Rhys and Feyre to have Nyx for the afternoon, but instead he chose to close his eyes and picture the person who’d been haunting him.
He and Gwyn were friends. She was over nearly every night to eat with Nesta, their dinners a sort of lively Azriel hadn’t experienced since he’d lived in Illyria with Rhys and Cas. It was joyful to live in a space filled with such light, but also overwhelming. Azriel found that as much as he loved the time with the rag-tag team they’d made for themselves, his social timer still clicked in his mind as a constant reminder that sometimes dealing with people, even the ones you loved, could be utterly exhausting.
Not with Gwyn though, his shadows lamented, setting him straight. No, Azriel never felt tired with her.
“Az?”
As though his thoughts alone had summoned her, Gwyn’s voice startled him out of his reverie. He turned, his lips parting slightly at the sight of her.
She was still in her training gear – a shirt and pants lovingly stitched by Emerie with embroidered flowers decorating the seams – her neat braid falling around her face, framing her pearlescent skin in fire.
“Gwyneth. Do you need something?”
Her eyes were wide, her hands clasped in front of her as she wrung her fingers. It made Azriel tilt his head in confusion, not understanding why she was so nervous. They spoke every day, she mouthed off at him often, and her shift in confidence had him surprised.
“I have a proposition for you, but you must promise to not tell a soul.”
Azriel raised a brow, leaning back into the table. He spread his hands before him. “I’m listening.”
Gwyn swallowed, her cheeks turning the same shade of red as her hair.
“Imsturbalt,” she squeaked.
“What?”
“I masturbate a lot!” She smacked her hands over her mouth, as if betrayed at the words they spilled.
Azriel’s jaw went slack, his eyes near bugging from his skull. “Okay… that’s good? Self-exploration!” He half-heartedly waved a celebratory fist in the air, not sure what to say to her statement.
She groaned louder than a stabbing victim. “I was thinking that, I didn’t intend to say it aloud.” She rubbed her hands over her face, peeking at him through her fingers. “Please don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“Your secrets are safer with me than they are anyone else.” Azriel smiled, trying to diffuse the obvious tension in her body. “So, your proposition?”
She tensed her jaw, moving her arms behind and looking at the ground as she spoke. “I guess my previous statement that will never be mentioned again to anyone if you like having the functional use of your organsperhaps wasn’t entirely irrelevant to what I’m going to ask you. But I beg, please let me finish before you say anything, and also don’t feel pressured to say yes.”
“Okay.”
“Silence.”
“Yes ma’am.”
She grinned at him, her eyes finally meeting his again. “As you know, better than anyone really, I have a difficult past.”
Azriel wished he could burn the images of finding her on that table from his mind. He’d had to actively teach himself not to envision her crying and screaming for her sister when she’d first became a permanent fixture in House of Wind. He’s seen many horrific things in his time, was no stranger to the worst humanity had to offer, but it was different when it was someone so vulnerable, so selfless, so important to him. It might have made him a bad person that he didn’t equate people’s trauma accordingly, but how could he possibly care for a stranger as much as he cared for Gwyn?
“What happened to me made me fear my body. Fear the sexuality I see women like Nesta and Mor own. They’re so powerful, and the things that have happened to them… They’re not broken. They’re not less. They’re not afraid.” She paused, sighing deeply. “I would never look upon anyone in the library as lesser than because of the things that have happened to them. It wasn’t until I met Nesta and Emerie that I realised I didn’t give myself the same grace. I want to own the parts of me that were stolen. I want to feel like my body belongs to me. I didn’t even know where to begin, but then the House gave me this book, some fluffy romance novel, and the girl in it was just like me. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I just felt so seen. Like the Mother herself had handed this smut piece into my lap to make me feel better.”
Gwyn moved to one of the lounge chairs that Cassian had haphazardly shoved into a corner one night when Nesta didn’t feel like moving from the dining room. Gwyn was effortlessly graceful as she sat and curled her legs up, her head resting on her fist.
“That’s where the masturbating comes in.” Her eyes avoided his again, focusing on patterns her fingers drew in the velvet material of the chair. “The girl in the book did it. She’d never had an orgasm either. So, I did too.” She laughed quietly. “It made me feel good. Not just the physical pleasure part, but the part where it was just me, empowering myself at a pace I was comfortable with.”
Azriel wished he could say something, but one, he knew to be silent and let her have this moment, and two, he didn’t know how to tell someone he was proud of them for touching themselves without it sounding weird. He was proud though, extremely so, at how strong she felt from acting on her wants. Her resilience had always astounded him.
“In the book, the girl meets this man.” Her voice lowered, barely more than a whisper. “He treats her so kindly, in a way that I’ve seen Cassian treat Nesta a million times, in a way I yearn to be treated. I’ve given myself a clean slate. This body, my body, has only been touched by me. I am whole. I was never broken, just healing. And I’m at a stage where I want more. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
Azriel wished her could say yes, please the eager note in her voice that hoped he was on the same page as her, but even his shadows were silent to her desires.
She glanced at him just long enough to see him shake his head. She tipped her head back. “When Nesta first started sleeping with Cassian, I was so curious. What were they doing? What was hedoing to make her look so satisfied? But when I tried to picture it, my stomach would churn. And then time passed. I grew stronger. I became a Valkyrie. And like many others before me and many more in the centuries to come, I walked in on Cassian and Nesta fucking.”
Azriel inhaled sharply. To hear the vulgarity fucking from a mouth so pure sent a bolt through him, and he chided himself for his inappropriate thoughts during such a serious conversation.
“They don’t know I saw, not that I think they would have minded. I would bet good money that if I asked for a demonstration on pleasurable acts Cassian and Nesta would be more than happy to comply. Where I might have once felt sick from seeing them, instead I felt-”
She cut herself off, looking for the right words.
“I felt burning desire. I’ve never been so envious of someone in my life. I didn’t want to have sex with Cassian, but by the Cauldron I wanted to feel the way that Nesta did. I wouldn’t tell you this if I didn’t know you were such a good secret keeper. Or such a good friend.”
Azriel couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “Gwyn, what do you want from me?”
“I want you to have sex with me.”
***
Azriel stared at his ceiling, his shadows dancing and rolling around him.
I want you to have sex with me.
He tested the words on his own lips. They tasted sweet. They also brought an uncomfortable amount of pressure to his cock. He refused to touch it though and kept both his hands firmly behind his head.
He’d told Gwyn he needed to think about it, and she understood. She said she didn’t expect an answer from him straight away.
Azriel had a lot to consider.
He was practically titillated that when Gwyn had decided she wanted to explore herself with a male, it was him who she thought of. She expressed that it was because she knew he’d care for her, that he’d respect her and because of how much she trusted him. There were not words to express how hearing such things felt to him. It made him want to do this for her, because his soul be damned he knew he would do right by her. Make her feel good, feel special, feel appreciated.
It would be amiss though not to acknowledge that if he did do this, let her warm his bed while he tasted her, it could ruin not just the friendship they had established but also the dynamic of the house. She had assured him that if his answer was no, they would continue their lives as if the conversation never happened.
Which brought a darker thought to his mind.
If not Azriel, then who? She would surely approach someone else. Someone not deserving of her, who might not treat her how she deserved to be treated. That was not to say Azriel thought that in all his bastardly ways he was what Gwyn should have – no, she deserved more than he could ever give – but at least he knew that she would be safe with him.
The thought of another male’s hands on her made him see red.
That was answer enough.
***
Nesta and Cassian were gone for the weekend, caring for Nyx while Feyre and Rhys had a romantic getaway for the weekend. Azriel secretly thought Nesta was using this as a trial to see if her and Cassian were ready for a baby.
It was the perfect opportunity to have Gwyn join him.
The day after she’d approached him, he’d slipped her a note after training to say that he was all in, and to meet him the next night. He tried not to watch her face as she read the note but couldn’t help it. She went bright pink, but she seemed exhilarated.
And now she was standing in his room.
They nervously looked at each other. Azriel wanted to give her the chance to speak first other than their obligatory greetings, but she was tongue-tied.
“I was thinking we should take this in steps,” Azriel said, sitting on the edge of his bed, watching her refrain from pacing back and forth.
“That seems logical. What sort of steps?”
“I was thinking tonight we take sex off the table.”
“What?” Her face fell, hurt evident in her expression.
“Just for tonight. Gwyn, have you had your first kiss?”
She shook her head no.
“Then maybe we do that. And anything beyond only what you want. I need you to know that you’re in control here. Whatever we do or don’t do is completely your decision.”
She nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. “That sounds reasonable. Like you’re my little puppet.” Her hands mimed using a marionette, and Azriel found it easy to reciprocate her smile.
She moved to his side, planting herself on the bed next to him. He couldn’t help but notice the how good she smelled, how carefully her hair had been arranged and how she’d worn her nicest dress. She had wanted to look good for him, and the thought made his heart squeeze.
He reached out and held the hands she clasped in her lap. It made her look at him, her teal eyes flashing in the room only lit by his fireplace.
“You’re a very good friend, Azriel.”
“Do you want me to kiss you, Gwyn?”
She nodded, turning her body to face him.
He brushed her cheek with his thumb, then her lips, before he settled on cradling her face. She leant her head into his hand, so trusting as she looked at him. His hand was so big that the fingers that lay on her neck could feel her hammering pulse.
She leant in the same time he did.
At first it was just a peck. Their lips brushing against each other’s so gently it made Azriel ache. He pressed his lips to her again, and again, getting her used to the feeling of his lips on hers. She enthusiastically reciprocated, her slender fingers running up his chest before meeting behind his head, tangling themselves in his hair. He smiled against her mouth, pleased at such a reaction when the real kissing had yet to even start.
His grazed his tongue along her lip, and she eagerly opened her mouth, letting his tongue slip inside her. The noise she made at the contact buzzed straight through him, and he was pleasantly surprised when Gwyn, in all her eagerness, took control of him.
She kissed him as though she had done it her whole life, like her mouth belonged on his, and the feel of her delicate tongue made him deepen their kiss, angling her head so they could better feel one another. She was practically leaning back, and if this had been a meaningless one night stand she’d have been on her back by now with Azriel’s mouth between her thighs.
She broke away from him, his mouth instinctively following hers as it wanted more, making her gleam in pride.
“I want to change positions,” she said, her hands still wired into his hair.
“Anything you want,” he replied breathlessly.
Azriel didn’t know what to expect, but it was not her getting up and crawling into his lap. She straddled his thighs, and there was no way she wouldn’t be able to feel his erection pressing against her. He did with his hands what any male would do in this situation, and her giggle was enough to know that she’d wanted him to do that.
“Your hands are on my ass,” she laughed.
“Is that okay?”
“Very much so.” She took a deep breath. “Take your shirt off. Please.”
He obliged.
“And you should – you should take off my dress too.”
“Are you sure?”
“I have a slip on underneath.”
His hands shook slightly as they ran up her sides and to her back, undoing each button on her dress. To give her a more authentic experience, he decided to lean in as he did, kissing a new spot on her neck with each button that came undone.
She raised her arms so that he could slip the dress over her head, and he averted his eyes when her slip rode up with it. He didn’t look back until she had adjusted herself. When he did, he nearly fainted.
She was divine in her beauty. He always saw lovely she was, anyone with eyes would. Her body was lean and tight. Her uniform may have hidden it, but she had the power of any warrior in her body. Azriel wondered if she purposefully hid her strength so that it was a secret part of her arsenal. Smart female.
He ran his hands up her spread legs before planting them back on her ass. Unable to resist, he squeezed his hands, making her groan.
“Your hands feel so good,” she gasped. “Do everyone’s hands feel like that, or is it just you?”
He snickered. “Anyone who is worth their weight knows how to make a female feel good.” He bumped her shoulder with his nose. “What would you like me to do now? Do you want to keep kissing?”
“Fuck yes I want to keep kissing.” She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest as she playfully nipped at his bottom lip. “But maybe we could do other things. Even better things.”
“What do you have in mind?”
Gwyn reached behind her and grabbed one of the hands resting on her behind. For the first time since they’d started, she looked nervous. Her legs were shaking, and Azriel was unsure if it was anxiety or anticipation for whatever she had planned.
She guided his hand under his slip until he was cupping her sex.
“You aren’t.” He swallowed hard. “You aren’t wearing underwear.”
She shook her head playfully. “I didn’t think I would need to.”
She pressed his hand into her, and he moaned at the wetness he found. She was so slick for him already, and all they had done was kiss. He did an exploratory brush through her folds, and as at the tip of his finger grazed over her clit, she arched into him, holding on tight to his shoulders.
He started teasing her, obsessed with the little noises she was making at the back of her throat as he did, but he soon realised something.
Usually, when Azriel was with a female, they got progressively more… turned on. Their bodies would react to his touch, and his fingers would be coated in their juices before he even attempted to enter them with either his fingers or his cock.
Gwyn was not.
It seemed the more he touched her, the more it was like her body didn’t want this. For all intents and purposes, she was… drying up?
His hand went still, and he could feel her body instinctively relaxing as his hand left her pussy.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, clinging to him.
“You don’t enjoy this.” He made her look him in the eye, and his throat tightened at how she looked. There were tears lining her eyes and a deep furrow on her forehead.
“I do, I promise I do. I’m just nervous. If we – if we just overcome this one thing-”
“No, Gwyn.”
“Please Azriel,” she said desperately, trying to guide his hand back between her thighs.
As gently as he could, he lifted her from his lap and placed her beside him on the bed. Her breath shuddered, and he couldn’t bear the shattered look on her face.
She didn’t say a word, just stood up and tried to locate her dress. Azriel didn’t even know where he had thrown it, but he stood and stopped her from looking anyway.
“Gwyn…” He grasped her hands in his, towering over her as they faced each other. “I want to do this for you, please believe me when I say that. But maybe we just need to take a few more steps first. Do something else before that.”
“What else is there?” She was dejected, her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what I’m doing Az. And I swear on the Cauldron I want this. Fuck, this is so embarrassing. I’m just so nervous, and I get in my head about everything I do-”
“Hey hey hey, stop that.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and the ropable tension in her body started to ease out. She slumped against him, his arms wrapping around her in an embrace. “This is fine. Great, even.”
“You are such a liar.” She sighed, but at least she returned his embrace, tucking herself into him so they were as close as possible.
He tried to think of ways to salvage the night for her, to give her at least a little bit of what she wanted.
An idea sprang to mind.
“Gwyn?”
“Mmm?”
“Get on the bed. Lie down.”
She looked up at him hopefully. She didn’t need to be told twice. She practically flung herself at the bed, laying down on her back and resting her arms above her head. She grinned at him, and he didn’t miss the way she clenched her thighs together than spread them apart like a silent invitation.
Azriel couldn’t help but brighten at her enthusiasm. He undid the buttons on his pants and kicked them down so he was naked before her.
“I thought we weren’t having sex!” She jolted to her side, holding herself up on her arms and staring at his penis, her eyes practically bulging out of her head at the sight of it.
There were many things Azriel did not like about himself. But he had a damn fine cock.
He laughed at the look on her face and shook his head. “We’re not having sex. I’m not even going to touch you.”
She deflated. “Really? Not even a little bit?”
He followed her to the bed, climbing over her without touching her and planting himself next to her so they were lying side to side. He turned his head to her, and she looked at him curiously.
“We’re not just going to lie here naked, are we? It’s a bit cold for that.”
It was a little chilly. Her nipples were hard under her slip, which had ridden up to her stomach.
“No, but we can get under the blanket if you want.”
Her gaze raked up and down his body. “I’m happy above the blanket.”
They laid in a comfortable silence for a moment, happily taking in each other’s bodies. She was the most exquisite thing he had ever seen, and he was glad to see that their kissing antics had left her dishevelled. He liked that look on her.
“Are you actually not going to touch me?”
“I’m not. I think you should touch yourself.”
“Pardon?”
“I’ll touch myself, too. It’ll be a way for us to be more comfortable with each other. For you to be in control of your pleasure.”
“Will you watch me?” she murmured.
“If that’s okay. You can watch me, too.”
She considered his words, and Azriel wondered if this was in fact not the good idea he’d thought he’d had. She pursed her lips, and he knew her answer when she grabbed the hem of her slip and pulled it off, leaving her naked before him.
They stared into each other’s eyes as her hand brushed over her exposed breasts, and Azriel had to hold himself back from taking them in his mouth, from pinching her perked nipples with his teeth. Maybe later, that could come; he thought she would quite like it.
Her right hand kneaded her breast and tweaked her nipple while her left dipped down between her legs. Two fingers ran over her core, and he studied the way she massaged herself so that he could do it to her in the future. At the sight, he tentatively grasped his cock, wanting to make sure that she was truly okay with him touching himself at the vision of her with her fingers dipping inside her, moistening herself before focusing on her clit.
Her eyes flickered to his stroking hand, and her response nearly made him finish then and there like a teenager exploring themselves for the first time. She’d seen him, and lifted her leg so that it was draped over one of his, giving her a better angle on her clit and twining them together.
“I’m used to being quiet,” she shuddered. “So that no one hears me.”
“Be as loud as you want. Scream for me.”
Her hand quickened, and his sack tightened as he matched her speed with his own hand, gripping himself tightly. He moaned so loudly that he was once again thankful that Cassian and Nesta weren’t in the house. Even the magic of the walls mightn’t contain the pleasure pulsing through him as he watched her.
Her legs started to shake, and the little noises she’d made before were no more. Her voice was loud as she no longer held herself back from feeling even ounce of her impending orgasm.
“What are you thinking about?” She asked, her hips starting to gyrate against her hand.
“You. All I can think of is you,” Azriel moaned. He pumped himself quicker, his grip becoming harder.
“What about you,” he whispered in her ear. “Are you thinking about what you saw Cassian do to Nesta?”
Her toes curled at his words. “I’m thinking of what I saw them doing, but it’s you and me.”
“What are we doing, Gwyneth?”
Her eyes fluttered shut. Her tongue licked her lips before she bit down on them. “We’re in the library. You have me bent over one of the desks, and you’re taking me from behind. One of your arms is around me, and you’re flicking my clit as I scream your name. You’re so deep in me, Azriel, I can feel every inch of you as I clench around you. Cauldron, you feel so good. The best thing I’ve ever felt, Az.”
His breath hitched, and he felt himself on the brink of coming. What finally did him in was her teeth biting down on his shoulder as she screamed his name, her orgasm making her whole body shake as it overcame over.
When they had both come down from their highs, they laid trying to catch their breath, both their bodies covered in sweat.
“That was amazing,” she sighed, turning to face him.
He grabbed a corner of the unused blanket beneath them to wipe himself off, then turned to face her, an arm going around her waist and his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead and cheek.
He wanted to look at her body, finally relaxed and languid, but his shadows had another idea. They bathed over her like silk, dancing over her curves and crevices, making her laugh.
“I quite like them,” she said, her eyes starting to drift closed.
“Are you tired?”
“Mhmm.” She snuggled into him further, stealing his warmth. His cock responded to her touch, but it was too soon yet to do anything meaningful.
“Move up for a sec.”
“Is that you trying to hint that I should go?” Her voice was joking, but the look on her face said that she’d go if he wanted her too.
“Absolutely not, you’re staying here with me. I’m just grabbing the blanket.”
She moved away just long enough for him to pull the blankets over them and pull her to his chest again.
She made a content noise and closed her eyes to sleep, and Az thought to himself that he didn’t care if this one day ended their friendship, because it might very well be the best time of his life anyway.
***
The next two weeks were filled with them sneaking away and feverishly touching themselves in all sorts of ways. Once, Gwyn sat in his lap naked while they stroked themselves, kissing each other the entire time. Another time, she pleasured herself by grinding against his thigh and he palmed himself – they hadn’t even bothered to take their clothes off. A late-night training session had led to her using a particularly shaped massage tool on herself in very a scandalous way while he watched, near feral at the sight of her pumping into herself. He did not return that item to the training ring, instead he kept it in his bedside drawer for future use.
It wasn’t until sixteen days and countless orgasms into their agreement that Azriel was finally able to touch her.
It had been a busy night. Rhys, Feyre, Nyx, Mor and Emerie were over for dinner, and it had been the most fun Az had had in a group since last solstice. At the table, he’d had Feyre on one side and Gwyn on the other, and her little secret touches to his thigh made him feel warm all over.
It wasn’t necessarily an arousing touch, just an affectionate one. When the group had started to disperse to drink, Nesta the sober adult taking care of Nyx, Az noticed Gwyn sneak away. He promptly followed her, making sure everyone was distracted as he did so no one noticed what they were doing.
Within a few minutes he was between her thighs tasting her. She had mentioned the night before that she wanted his tongue on her, and by the Cauldron was he happy to oblige. She was sitting on the edge of desk in the library that she’d described to him all those weeks ago, and whilst on his knees before her, he jerked himself off as she crumbled beneath his mouth.
Thankfully, by the time they returned, people were far too tipsy to question where they’d been.
Except for Nesta, who looked suspiciously between the two of them. Whatever she was thinking, it was at Gwyn’s behest if she knew anything. It was her decision, always, what happened between them, and if she wanted people to know about their sneakiness, that was for her to decide.
Seven days later is when she first touched him. Until that point it had all been about her, which is what Azriel wanted. They were on his bed, his fingers deep inside her as they kissed, when her hand brushed against his cock. He moved his hips aside, and she broke their kiss off with a noise of indignation.
“Stop swatting my hands away!” She flicked his nose with her finger.
“Huh?” He was still dazed on the sound of his hand gliding through her dripping wet core.
“Do you not want me to touch you?” Her voice was curt.
“I just want this to be about you. I don’t want you to think that I’m only with you for my own sexual gratification. The only thing that matters to me is your happiness, my soul purpose is you. You’re my priority.” He kissed her neck. “My desires are your desires.” Another kiss. “I can’t focus if you’re anything less than panting and satisfied.”
She pursed her lips, a familiar expression at this point. It turned into a joyful smile, and she smacked a kiss to his lips. “That was actually very sweet. After I get you off, I’m going to sit on your face.”
What was even better than the heavy petting and intense make out sessions was the talking. Sometimes for hours they would just tangle themselves together and divulge their life stories. Azriel knew all about her sister and mother – Gwyn confessing that she felt guilt when her twin wasn’t on the forefront of her mind, but sometimes she pushed her away because the memory of her was overwhelmingly devastating. Az wiped her tears away, desperate to see her smile again. But he also knew of all the good times she’d had growing up, and it made him feel alight inside to know how loved she was. Az told her mostly of Rhys and Cassian and the family they had made for themselves, about how it was so hard to be away from his mother, but he wouldn’t have survived another day in his father’s presence. Gwyn cried for him sometimes, and Azriel had never known such empathy from another.
When they were alone in the House, Nesta and Cassian off on one of their sexcations, Gwyn would spend her evenings and nights with him just as a friend, doing housework and menial tasks that she didn’t have to while humming various tunes. Az would tell her to stop working, but she would just grin and say she liked feeling like part of a home too much to not pretend that she lived there too. So he would just hum with her, his shadows dancing and swaying the way they always inevitably did around her. Then they would fall into bed together (or any surface really) until they were spent and exhausted.
Azriel had never known happiness like this.
***
Azriel was buzzing with excitement. He’d left Gwyn wrapped up in his bed, the sun not yet risen, and made sure to leave her some breakfast on his nightstand and the fire burning to keep her warm without his body next to hers. Usually he would wake her up early with his head between her thighs so she could go back to the library, but she had already told the acolytes she roomed with that she would be staying with Nesta, so no need to sneak around when no one was expecting her.
Before they’d gone to sleep the night before, Gwyn said something to him that left him smiling even now as he made his way to Rhys.
I want to have sex, Az. I’m sure. I know I’m safe with you.
Az didn’t know why Rhys needed him, but if it involved leaving Velaris, he would barter for a few more days so that he might be with Gwyn before he left. An odd feeling entered his chest at the thought. He couldn’t name the feeling; he just knew he didn’t want to leave Gwyn alone.
He landed on the doorstep of Feyre and Rhys’ home. Before he had the chance to let himself in, Feyre opened the door, a grave look on her face.
“Quick. Before they start yelling.” Feyre pinched her nose, the other hand holding Nyx on her hip.
Azriel pushed past her, and it wasn’t hard to find the source of Feyre’s frustration.
“Once again you fucking asshole, you need to back off. How dare you-”
“Nes, calm down-”
“Tell me to calm down again Cassian and I’m out of here. As I was saying, how fucking dare you accuse her of such things, Rhysand, High Lord of Shitting me up the Wall.”
“Nesta, for fuck’s sake you’re getting defensive for no reason!”
“No reason?!” she spat, Cassian holding her back before she lunged at Rhys.
“Too late,” Feyre muttered at him as she walked into the office, sitting at the desk to remain neutral in Nesta and Rhysand’s pissing match. Azriel would love to know what had riled them up so much that they were nearly screaming at each other, but any guidance from his brothers was not there.
“You have to admit that it’s suspicious, Nesta!”
Rhys threw his arm at Azriel as he approached, looking triumphant. “Azriel will agree with me.”
“He will not.”
“May I ask what I might need to agree to, or will it remain a mystery as to why you’re yelling so early in the morning?” Az crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for them to stop acting like children.
“Rhys accused Gwyn of being a spy,” Nesta growled.
“You’re twisting my words! I said I’d had reports of her acting strange, of her behaviour being completely different, and I suggested that it was worth looking into. We have to consider the safety of Velaris, and Gwyn would be the perfect plant.”
Azriel was sure Rhys was going to say more, but he was interrupted by Azriel’s uncontrollable fit of laughter. His laughs shook his whole body, and he felt tears in his eyes from how hard his fit was hitting him. He had to bend over to try and catch his breath, clutching at his chest as though his lungs might leap out of it.
“What’s so funny,” Rhys deadpanned.
Azriel shook his head and walked to Nesta, putting an arm around her shoulder.
“Are you serious, Rhys? Gwyn? Gwyenth Berdara?”
“Yes, I’m serious. Both Clotho and Merrill have approached me. Clotho, because she was worried, and Merrill, because she thought that Gwyn was being insubordinate. Clotho has had multiple girls come to her in fear for Gwyn, saying she’s been disappearing at night and coming back early in the morning. They she’s tired, unfocused, and that she’s exceeding every expectation they had for her in training and acting like a different person in the library. This has all been reported over the last month.” Rhys picked Nyx out of Feyre’s arms to calm himself before continuing. “Gwyn knows incredibly sensitive information about us. She helped us with the Trove, she treats the House of Wind like she bloody lives there. She’s awfully comfortable for a person who previous to knowing us refused to leave the library.”
Any humour Azriel felt had been leeched from his body. Nesta’s verbal beating of Rhys had been justified and then some.
“With all due respect, you can go fuck yourself,” he bit at his brother.
Feyre made a noise in the back of her throat and took Nyx back from Rhys before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.
Too much swearing for such little ears! she said into their minds as she was leaving.
“What the fuck, Az?” Rhys looked startled.
“I knew he’d side with me,” Nesta said smugly.
“She’s ‘awfully comfortable?’ Yeah, she is, because she found a fucking family. Nesta is like a sister to her, and she’s over at the House a lot not because she’s entitled, but because we want her there. You might not make that much of an effort with Nesta’s friends because of your own personal shit, but Cassian and I consider her a close friend. Accusing her of anything unbecoming, to me, is as bad as if you’d dragged me in here to tell me Cassian was working against us. You sound ludicrous. Also, need I remind you, it’s not your fucking House anymore. Who we have over is none of your damned business.”
Rhys scoffed. “It’s not your House either.”
“Sorry, High Lord Rhysand, I’ll manage my expectations.” Az clenched his jaw at Rhys’ words. He was right. Azriel didn’t technically have any property, neither had Cassian until Rhys had given Nesta the House as a mating gift. Azriel didn’t technically have a home beyond the sky, nothing worth giving to or sharing with another person. Even now, Gwyn was waiting for him in a bedroom that technically wasn’t is. He wouldn’t dare leave though, not when he knew it was one of only two places that Gwyn felt safe in.
“Why are you getting so defensive? You know what I’m saying is reasonable.”
“It would be if we didn’t know her. She is… there are not words to describe her.”
“Yes, there is,” Nesta piqued. “She is competitive. She is feisty. She’s a Valkyrie. She is the kindest soul in Velaris. She is so brave, and strong, and the most selflessly loving person I’ve met in my entire life. If you weren’t so thick headed, you would see that she’s like Feyre in a lot of ways.” Nesta paused. She left Azriel’s side to stand in front of Rhys, her shoulders back and her head high. “If you accuse her of something it would break her heart. I won’t let you hurt her.”
“I would never hurt her, Nesta.” Rhys rubbed a hand over his face. “If you’re so convinced that nothing is going on, can you explain her strange behaviour.”
Nesta turned away from Rhys, so that he couldn’t see her face. When Nesta looked over at Azriel, she didn’t need to say a single word for him to know that she knew the exact reason Gwyn was acting different.
It was because of him.
“I don’t need to explain it because I trust her. I’m also with her nearly every minute of every day. Do you not think I would not notice if she was conniving against us? Or are you truly that foolish?”
“I agree with Nesta,” Cassian said. “She’s either with us training the Valkyries, or she’s working with Nesta in the library. Who cares if she’s a little distracted, we all are sometimes.”
“And you’re sure of this?” Rhys directed his question at Azriel, almost as if he couldn’t trust Cassian and Nesta to be impartial because of how close they were to Gwyn. Huh. If only he knew.
“I have never been surer of anything.”
***
“Azriel, wait.”
Azriel was stalking through the front gardens. He would walk until his head was clear, then he would go home – go to the House of Wind – and spend the morning with Gwyn. Nesta had other plans.
“What is it?”
“Gwyn-”
“-will be safe. I won’t let Rhys near her.”
“I’m not worried about that. What is going on between you two?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m not blind. All the things Rhys described? Sure, might be espionage, but it might also just be someone falling in love.”
“We’re not together.” Love? What a preposterous thought. Gwyn had been very clear from the beginning in what she wanted from him. She needed someone to fulfil her physical needs, and Azriel was happy to do so. All the other stuff, the talking and friendship, was just icing.
“Then what are you doing? Setting yourselves up to get hurt?”
“This is a conversation you should have with her.”
“She trusts you so much, Az. Please, don’t do anything that would hurt her. She’s come so far since we met.”
“Nesta, I promise you I couldn’t dream of hurting her. The thought alone makes me feel visceral pain. What we do, what we are, is just her making decisions and doing what she wants. How did you even know there was something going on?”
Nesta smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I guessed she had a flirtation with someone. I knew it was you from the way she started saying your name.”
Azriel felt his eyes burn, but he did not know why. “The way she says my name?”
“I’ve heard the way she says it a million times. From Cassian and I. From Rhys and Feyre. I can’t describe it beyond that.”
Azriel shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted where he stood. “Have you told Cas?”
“I don’t need to, he knows.”
“So you guys have talked about it?”
“No. I haven’t told him that I know. But I know he knows. And he also knows I know.”
“So he knows you know even though you haven’t told him you know and you know he knows even though he hasn’t said he knows?”
“Exactly,” she laughed. Her smile was more genuine now. It was a look she’d only had since her mating ceremony. It sung contentment, something she, like him, struggled to have.
She came to him and linked their arms, resting her head on his shoulder. Her friendship was invaluable to him, as much as it was a surprise when it first started to form.
“I have one other thing to say, and then I’ll let you go home to Gwyn.”
“Yes, Nesta?”
“The House of Wind is as much as your home as it is mine. You can stay there forever if you want. It is your home, Azriel, and I wouldn’t dream of it being anything else.”
***
Gwyn was awake when Azriel returned home. She was humming a song to herself in bed, wrapped in his blankets like it was a cocoon. She had the breakfast he made for her in her lap, and when he entered the room, she pulled the blanket aside and opened her arms for him to fall into to.
Maybe he still looked stormy after his talk with Rhys, or maybe she just wanted to hold him. Either way, he fell happily into her embrace.
***
Gwyn had set a date. She did not intend to be so clinical about it, she just wanted to give herself a chance to mentally prepare for what was about to happen, and she needed a few days to do so.
The month she’d had with Azriel had been… Cauldron, she did not know how to exactly describe it. When she had approached him, she honestly did not think that he would say yes to such a ridiculous idea. But he had, and he’d given her nothing short of the best month of her life. Her cheeks ached from how much she was smiling, and even if she was tired when she worked, she wouldn’t give up her restless nights for anything.
It would also be remiss for her to not acknowledge that perhaps what she had with him was more than an arranged bargain, but any time the thoughts propped up she promptly put them to the side.
She had not gone to see Az last night, needing the time to do extra work so that she could be missed for a day. Or two. Maybe even three.
Gwyn didn’t know how long this marathon might last, but if it were anything like Nesta and Cassian’s, it could be a while.
She had also warned Clotho and the females she shared her room with that she would be staying at the House of Wind for a few days. When asked why, she just said she was doing something with Emerie without going into any detail.
So, tonight it was. She was ready.
She was so fucking ready.
The moment dinner was served in the library she made a run for it, having to physically restrain herself from skipping out of the library. She was so excited, her body literally vibrating with energy, that she didn’t even see Nesta before their bodies slammed together.
They went to a ground in a tangled fumble, and Nesta was too busy laughing to listen to Gwyn’s repeated apologies. The brisk evening air greeted them, the stars starting to peek through the violet dusk as they laid on the path that took them from the library to the training area to the House.
“Well, you made looking for you much easier,” Nesta said, brushing off her dress as she stood. She offered Gwyn a hand, which she gladly took. Nesta started walking towards the House, their hands not dropping as they swung them between them like children.
“Why were you looking for me?”
“Emerie is here with Mor and Feyre. I wanted you to join us for dinner.”
“I have dinner with you every night.”
“I know, but I wanted you to know that you’re not just welcome but also invited.”
Gwyn smiled at Nesta, love for her friend filling her heart.
They approached the House, Nesta’s face falling as they walked in and saw Rhys standing in the middle of the room, confused looks on the faces of Mor and Emerie as everyone just looked uncomfortable.
Nesta’s hands squeezed Gwyn’s, and for just a second it felt like Nesta was about to pull Gwyn right back to the library.
“I’m not sure what the problem is,” Mor said slowly. “We go out in Velaris all the time, why can’t we tonight?”
“You’re more than welcome to, I would just rather stay here,” Azriel replied.
Gwyn knew the look on his face. It was the same look he’d had a few days ago when he’d returned from Mother knows where after Rhys summoned him. Gwyn assumed Azriel had just had to do one of the many hard tasks expected of a spymaster, but perhaps there was something else if his face was a mirror of that again now.
“What’s going on?” asked Nesta.
They all turned to look at them like they were surprised to see them. Not even Azriel had noticed their entrance, although Gwyn self-admitted that Azriel tended to be surprised by her sudden appearances quite often. She didn’t know for sure, but she thought maybe his shadows didn’t bother warning him when she was near. It’s not like she was a danger to the guy.
“Rhys came and said we should try the new restaurant on the Rainbow! The one near Feyre’s studio? I’ve heard really nice things about it, and the family that opened it are really beautiful.” Mor beamed at them all, trying to disperse the odd tension. “And then maybe we could go dancing.”
The idea sounded wonderful, and Gwyn wistfully wished she could join them. In reality, just the thought of going into the city set her heard racing. The only time she had ever left the library or the House, other than to go to Emerie’s house which landed them in the Bloodrite, was to officiate Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony. Although the memory was one of her most treasured ones, it was not something she thought she would be able to do again. Not yet.
“I’ve heard great things about that place,” Nesta replied, her stomach audibly grumbling at just hearing about the exquisite food it might receive.
“You are all more than welcome to go.” Azriel swept a hand out between them. “But I don’t want to.”
His gaze flickered to Gwyn, and suddenly the eyes of everyone were on her.
A blanket of understanding washed over the room. Most eyes were understanding, Mor’s held the pity that Gwyn hated, and Rhys looked indifferent, if not satisfied.
Azriel’s resistance became evident. It wasn’t just that it was thenight,their night, but he didn’t want her to be left alone whilst everyone else galivanted through the city having the time of their lives when they knew she wouldn’t be able to join them.
“I don’t want to go either. It’s been a long week and I’m tired,” said Nesta.
Gwyn narrowed her eyes at her lying sister but couldn’t hold it in her heart to be angry. In face, she had to stop it from swelling with how loving their words felt. They didn’t want her to be alone. They wanted to stay with her.
“You know,” spoke Emerie softly, “I can’t imagine anywhere making food as well as the House.”
Mor’s eyes shot to Emerie, and Gwyn wondered if she was imagining the slight betrayed look in them.
“Guy’s, c’mon. Rhys and I made a reservation, they’re expecting us! It would be rude not to go,” Mor pleaded.
Azriel opened his mouth to snap back, but Gwyn interrupted. “She’s right. You should go enjoy yourselves.”
“But Gwyn-”
“It’s okay, Nesta. Please, I really think you should all go.” She made a point to look at Azriel. “It sounds like it would be a lot of fun.”
“It’s not fair to arrange activities that we can’t all participate in.” Azriel’s voice had softened as he looked at her, and if she didn’t have better self-control she would stride over and plant a kiss on his pouting lips.
“How could Mor have known that Gwyn would be here? It’s not her fault,” Rhys interjected.
“That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard-”
“Stop, just stop.” Gwyn clutched her hands in front of her and stepped away from Nesta. She needed them to see her as an adult, as someone who was strong and to be taken seriously. “It’s fine. Really, truly. I have a lot to do anyway.” She turned to Feyre and waved her fingers at Nyx. “If you would like, I can take care of him so you can enjoy some grown-up time.”
For a second Feyre looked hopeful, but then she schooled her face into neutrality. Rhys stepped between the two, and Feyre had to put an arm on his shoulder.
As if to stop him stepping any further.
Gywn blinked, feeling like she should blanch away but not sure as to why.
“That won’t be necessary,” Rhys said. She’d heard him use that voice before. It was his political voice. His I-have-an-agenda voice. Now it was her turn to look confused.
“No worries,” Gwyn whispered.
She looked away from the High Lord’s searing gaze and back to her friends. She hoped her face didn’t speak of her sadness.
“Please go. I would feel awful if any of you stayed on my part. If anything, by going and having a great time you’d be doing me a favour, because I wouldn’t feel guilty.”
“You could always just come with us,” Mor said, tucking her hair behind her ears in a way that was comically similar to how the ‘popular’ girls in her smutty books would behave.
Gwyn bit her lip, thinking about it. Of course, logically, she would be safe. They would all be there, Azriel would be there, but she genuinely felt like she might vomit at the thought. A bead of sweat dripped down her back, and she despised how her eyes stung with tears. She breathed the way her and Nesta had learnt from Valkyrie texts and pulled herself back to reality. Sometimes the logic of actions did not dictate how you would feel, or react, to a situation. Gwyn reminded herself once more to be kinder to herself.
“Thank you for the offer, Mor, but I am happy here.” Gwyn smiled brightly at them all, and they seemed to relax – all but Az and her sisters.
She shooed them out of the House, hoping that one day she would be able to join them.
***
It was odd. Gwyn had spent much time over the last few years alone, but it had never affected her. And although the House was quite good company – it had dinner and dessert ready for her with a box of tissues and chocolates even before Cassian had finally flown off with the resistant Nesta – it wasn’t the same as spending time with someone who could talk back to you.
She only just made it through her meal when she crawled into Azriel’s bed, hoping the scent of him would make her feel better.
It didn’t, but the sight of his room did. There were unlit candles lining the room, and flowers adorning every surface. The cheeky male had even installed a mirror on the ceiling above the bed, and she blushed profusely at the implications.
He had tried to make it romantic, and she adored him for it.
She had no idea when he would be back, and she scolded herself for wishing it would be sooner rather than later. She wanted him to be out and about with his family, even if it made her burn with envy that everyone would be able to enjoy him but her.
She rolled over, stuffing her face into his pillow and groaning. She should take off her day clothes and resign herself to pyjamas. Maybe she should sleep in a different bedroom so as to not torture herself with what this night could have been.
Her night with Az. The night with Az.
“That’s it. I am so over this,” she said aloud before springing up. She stomped out of the room and towards Nesta’s, flinging her closet open to inspect her clothes.
It was just a restaurant. It was safe. She would be fine. Besides, how could she overcome her fears if not to face them? She had gone to Emerie’s and survived. She had gone to Nesta’s mating ceremony and survived. She had won the bloody Bloodrite!
As she looked through the dresses, she quickly realised they wouldn’t fit. They would hang loose at her hips and chest, where Nesta was beautifully endowed and she was not.
“Not to worry, I’ll just take a coat then.” Taking the first one she saw, light but soft enough that warmth wouldn’t be an issue, Gwyn shoved her shoes on approached the door that led to the ten thousand steps that would take her to Velaris. She didn’t know where to go from there, but she knew in her heart of hearts that she would be able to find her friends with enough willpower. And since meeting Nesta and Emerie, since being empowered by the strongest females she knew and since empowering herself, she knew she had that willpower in abundance.
“Let’s fucking do this.”
***
She didn’t know at what point the House had left her, its omnipresence not connected to the stairs, but she was doing just fine even if she felt its absence. She counted in her head to keep track of where she was.
One thousand. Feeling good. Coat in arms.
Two thousand. Out of breath but in a good way.
Three thousand. Fucking shit.
Four thousand. Maybe she should turn around.
Five thousand.
Six thousand. How has Nesta done this multiple times?
Seven thousand. She had this! This was easier than Ramiel!
Eight thousand. If she died here no one would find her.
Nine thousand.
Ten. Fucking. Thousand.
Gwyn realised that there was no way she’d be able to eat with them. They would be having dessert if they hadn’t already moved on. She just needed to find them.
As Gwyn took the last step, her toes touched the streets of Velaris for the very first time.
It was so beautiful she thought she might cry. There was colour everywhere, the laughter of adults and children alike, and she could smell delicious food as the many restaurant’s wide-open doors let the scents pour into the streets. The faelights lining the streets reminded her of the stars she often gazed at with Azriel, the thought of him like a caress to her mind.
Azriel loved Velaris, would die for this city if he had to. How could she been afraid of something he loved so much?
She took one step. Then one more. She was sure to anyone that glanced her way she must have looked like a lunatic, her eyes wide in wonder as she moved at a snail’s pace, Nesta’s coat bundled in her arms because after all those steps she didn’t need it.
Her heart was hammering in her chest, equal parts fear and excitement, as she walked through the city. She got a few odd looks, but she could see it was out of curiosity for a newcomer in a city that had been locked down for centuries, and not for violence. She wasn’t leered at or bothered. In fact, the only time someone even talked to her was when a toddler sprinted from his mother’s side, his legs too quick for his body to keep up, and he fell into her.
The mother apologised profusely but Gwyn didn’t care at all. How could she be mad at the pudgy little baby?
It was easy to find her way to a district clearly dedicated to all things food. If possible, she slowed down even more. She peeked inside every restaurant looking for the four sets of wings that would set her friends apart from everyone else.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of searching but was probably closer to forty minutes, she saw them.
Azriel and Rhys were standing outside the restaurant Mor must’ve been talking about. Light and music drifted from its open windows, the streets still full of roaming people. Gwyn knew they wouldn’t be able to see her yet, and she wondered how she should approach them.
Azriel… did not look happy, and the tense set of Rhys’ shoulders and back let her know that his face likely looked the same, even if he was facing away from her.
Before she could think of a strategy, Azriel looked up, his eyes meeting hers.
Gwyn could not describe the feeling that filled her as they drunk in one another. Still standing twenty steps from him, his gaze made her feel like she was wrapped in his arms.
She raised one hand in a wave, and it was like Rhys didn’t exist at all.
Azriel shoved him to the side, Rhys making an indignant sound as he did. He ran to her, and she dropped Nesta’s coat so she could wrap her arms around him as they crashed together. People in the streets backed off at Azriel’s display, and in that moment she couldn’t have cared less about where she was, as long as she was with him.
His wings wrapped around her, creating a shield between them and the outside world.
“Gwyn.”
“Hey Az,” she whispered, her arms around his neck and his face tucked to her shoulder.
“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” He straightened and brushed the hair from her face. It had stuck to her skin from how much she had sweat while taking the stairs, but she didn’t care how she looked. She knew he certainly never would.
He looked ready to fight an invisible threat, and it made her throb in unspeakable places.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just – I. Um.” She hadn’t rehearsed what she would say to him, but it’s not like she could blurt out Hey! Just wanted to near you at all times and rub my body against yours!
“Did something happen? What do you need me to do?”
She shook her head. “No, no, Az, really, I’m fine. I just regretted not coming out with you all.”
He must have been able to see the honesty on her face and smile, because he relaxed, his wings folding back.
The look on his face was adorable as the realisation dawned on him that she was here for him.
“Did I miss everything? Are you all done?”
He didn’t answer, but he did look behind him. Rhys was standing there with his mouth open, his face laced with something Gwyn couldn’t put a name to. Before she could greet him, Rhys stormed back into the restaurant.
Azriel turned back to her, and he didn’t hesitate when he lifted her chin and kissed her.
She gasped but reciprocated zealously. She pushed her body into his, and his arms went around her as he lifted her off her feet, cradling him to her as he kissed her like she was the wind that let him embrace the skies. He tasted like air, like gold, like this was his final breath and he was he was sharing it with just her.
***
Azriel sat with Gwyn while the rest of their friends danced. She hid it well, but he could tell that she was nervous being in this new environment.
She had been so good, so brave when she went into the restaurant and greeted Azriel’s family. Nesta and Emerie jumped up when they saw her, and Nesta held her tightly while Emerie rushed to get another chair. Nesta was trying to be subtle, but Azriel saw the happy tears she shed as she held Gwyn. Emerie then insisted that Gwyn sit and eat her strawberry and mango cheesecake with her, which earned an inexplicable scowl from Mor. Interesting.
Once Gwyn was satisfied and protesting the consumption of more food, they all walked together to one of the classier bars Nesta used to frequent so they could go dancing. Everyone was light as a feather, except Rhys, but life was hard as a fucking asshole, so Az wasn’t surprised he was feeling surly.
And now here they were. Azriel and Gwyn seated with the others dancing to their hearts content. Mor was spinning around with a giggling Nyx, Feyre and Rhys were swaying but it was obvious they were speaking to each other through their daemati bond, and Emerie and Nesta were terrorising Cassian in a three-way dance.
“How are you feeling?” Azriel asked, his shadows silent to her moods. If it had been anyone else, he would have known she was coming to the restaurant before she’d even left the House. But his shadows didn’t like to spy on her and revelled in him being surprised by her.
“I feel good.” Her gaze was focused on the dance floor, and Azriel glanced over to see what was so entrancing.
Nesta and Cassian were finally dancing alone, Emerie now with Nyx and Mor. The way Cassian and Nesta were grinding on each other was nothing short of pornographic as they moved into the shadows of the dance floor. Nesta’s back was to Cassian, his hands clasped on her hips as his lips were on her neck as she pushed her ass back against him.
Azriel snorted. They’d be fucking in an alley within the next fifteen minutes.
“Do you want to dance like that, Gwyneth?”
She turned to him, a lovely flush spreading from her face to her chest. “No,” she said unconvincingly. She slid her chair closer to his, the bar stool so high she had to hop onto it to sit. It was frightfully cute, and Azriel had to restrain from kissing her again.
He couldn’t help it in the street. The sight of her – rumpled, breathless, her face alight with joy – was too much for him.
She was beginning to be too much for him.
The longer he was with her, the more of her he was allowed to have, the more he feared he could never go back to just a simple friendship. This female would either be his salvation or his ruination, either of which he would happily accept if it meant he could savour every minute he had left with her.
Under the table, she linked their hands, and Azriel thought he might very well die from the touch.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to enjoy our plans.” He rubbed his thumb against her finger.
She smiled his way, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “It’s okay.” She looked down, biting her lip. “I went to your room. I saw what you had done.”
He swallowed hard. “Did you like it?”
She removed her hand from his and placed it on his thigh. “I loved it.”
He shifted in his seat, glad that the tablecloth was long enough so that anyone around, if they looked, would only see their ankles. “You’re playing with fire right now,” he chucked under his breath as she continued to stroke his thigh.
“I especially liked the mirror on the ceiling. May I ask, what purpose does it serve?” Her smile may have been all innocent, but the way her hand was moving was anything but.
She leant against him so they were touching shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip.
For months now, all that had been between them were tentative touches, kisses that would end before they could become too heated. Gwyn appreciated it deeply. The time Azriel had given to her, the steps they had taken together took her to places she thought she’d never reach. She still remembered the way she shook when he first held her hands, and now she was bedazzled with daily reminders of his feelings for her.
She smiled at him. He was seated next to Cassian, the two males shirtless and sprawled on the floor after training discussing how they might seduce Mor into taking on her own class of novices. They would’ve asked Rhys or Feyre, but between all their ruling duties, Feyre’s art classes and little Nyx, they barely had time to breath.
Az saw her look and smiled back, the shadows clinging to his hands disappearing as he looked at her. It made her cheeks go red to see it, and she couldn’t help but gaze down at his beautiful abdomen, the powerful muscles nothing short of wondrous. Being near him, and having him want her, made her feel powerful too. But the age-old fear always crept in before things went too far.
“Cassian and I are heading into Velaris for lunch, would you like to join?” Nesta asked her, her eyes glinting as she looked at Gwyn and knew exactly what she was thinking. “Az will likely come, and he’ll fly you down.”
“Thank you, but I’ll let you and Cassian enjoy yourselves.” Gwyn touched the pendent at her throat, the stained glass hidden beneath her leathers. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”
“Of course. Morrigan will get Emerie in the afternoon, and Cassian is making himself scarce.”
“He doesn’t need to do that!” Gwyn didn’t want him thinking he couldn’t spend time with them when they all stayed together at the House. Gwyn trusted Cassian as much as she could any man, and loved that her dearest friend had found a male who loved and cared for her so very much. Seeing them together is what gave her the courage to approach Azriel after months of shy glances and quiet conversations.
“He wants to give us our privacy. He’ll have dinner with us, and then I think he plans on stealing Nyx.” Nesta smiled at the thought of her mate and a baby, and Gwyn couldn’t blame her. There was just something about a deadly warrior caring for something so vulnerable that set her evolutionary instincts on fire.
Before Gwyn had the chance to reply, the man of the hour approached them, holding out a hand to both of them to help them up. They stood, Nesta stepping into him and resting her chin on his chest, peering up at him with unbridled admiration.
Cassian said his goodbye to Gwyn, pressing a featherlight kiss to her cheek in farewell. She didn’t blush, used to it by now. One of the things she liked most was little kisses to her cheeks and forehead, the main perpetrators of the act being Emerie and Nesta. The kisses didn’t speak of the violence she’d endured, but rather of how much her friends loved her. Friendship was an intimacy she craved outside of anything else, and she’d nearly cried the first time Nesta had kissed the top of her head, her friend hugging her after a particularly bad scalding in the library.
Nesta and Cassian left, leaving Gwyn alone with Azriel. He grinned at her the moment they had peace. He walked over, his steps hurried as if he couldn’t wait to be near her. He placed his lovely hands on her cheeks and pressed their foreheads together.
“A veritable Valkyrie,” he said.
“You give me too much praise.”
“I could never say enough kind things about you.”
She kissed the tip of his nose, happy to be in his arms.
***
Gwyn laid alone in her room, the single bed not big enough for all that she was feeling. She had spent nearly her entire lunch break kissing Azriel, but it had gone no further. But she’d wanted more. Needed more. She couldn’t stop thinking of the way his lips had touched her neck, or how his hands were so steady on her waist. She was half tempted to beg him to clutch her harder, to grab her in other more sensitive areas, but she didn’t know how to ask. Az was respectful to a fault. Well, no, not a fault, she loved how patient and gentle he was with her. But it meant he would never ask for more, or take more, fearful that he might spook her.
She squeezed her thighs at the thought of him, her hand idly running up and down her stomach. There had been a few times, in her rare moments of privacy, that she had taken Nesta’s advice and explored herself before having another touch her. She had scarcely in her youth, but she’d been a fumbling teen who didn’t understand what to touch to make it feel good.
As always, her thoughts drifted to him, and as she inched up her dress…
The door opened, the two other acolytes she bunked with going to bed early. Gwyn managed to snatch her hand away, but it was painfully obvious what she was about to do.
She rolled to her side and tried to suppress a groan, her fellow acolytes giggling under their breath.
Wanting to clear her head, she got up and feigned going to the bathroom, instead going into the bowels of the library. Most people were still at dinner, and she made a wide berth from the hallways that led to their dining hall. She wasn’t sure where to go. She could keep studying, although it wasn’t an appealing thought, or maybe she could go to the heart of the House and let it sneak her treats and tea.
Instead, she found herself walking until she was in the training ring. She hadn’t bothered putting shoes on. She loved the way the cool stone felt beneath her feet – like it was centring her. She would have been content to stay here forever, pitch a tent and claim this spot as hers. This was the spot she found her sisters, Nesta and Emerie. This is where she became strong, where she started tackling the demons that haunted her at night. This is where the elusive man that saved her that fateful day at the temple became a friend, and then more. Yes, she could have stayed here forever with the breeze caressing her face and the stars winking in greeting.
She heard a creak to the left and turned, worrying an acolyte might have followed her out. Instead, she saw the usually locked entry to the House open, warm and welcoming light spilling from its threshold. One to take a hint, she walked inside. She couldn’t hear Nesta or Cassian, but they had long put silencing wards on each room. She looked around the entryway, and another door opened to her left, leading her down the grand staircase and into a hallway. Once again, all the doors were shut, but as her feet touched the landing one opened, Gwyn knowing it to be the study. Going where the House was prompting her, she caught Azriel curiously staring at the door, trying to make it shut when it wouldn’t budge.
“I don’t think you’ll have much luck. It seems the House wanted me here.”
She revelled in his small gilt of surprise, an honour that he let his composure down enough around her for her to see any sort of emotion.
“Gwyn, what are you doing here?” His tone, not accusatory in the slightest, sent a shock through her stomach.
He looked… different in the dark. Of course she’d seen him in the night, whether it be in the city or over a meal with Cassian and Nesta, but never alone in a room lit only by scattered candles. His beauty was different like this, his face a marble sculpture carved by the most brilliant artists, his hair silken black, his eyes the night sky between the spirits on Starfall.
“Is this your study?” She ignored his question, entering the room. The door closed behind her, and she felt a sudden absence in the room, as if the House had given them some privacy.
“It is, I forbade Nesta and Cassian from coming in here a year ago. I didn’t want them tarnishing my stuff,” he laughed.
She swallowed hard, her hands clasped in front of her.
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Are you okay?”
She paused before she answered, not quite knowing what to say. It’s not like she could go oh, Azriel, don’t mind me, I just think my horniness was so palpable the House wrapped you as a gift and planted you in my lap.
Instead, she took a step forward, close enough to place her hands on his chest.
“I’ve been having thoughts,” she murmured, not looking him in the eyes. His hands came to rest over hers, and she was embarrassed at the fluttering in them he must feel.
“What kind of thoughts?”
Her breath shuddered. She pressed her face into the space between their hands, not able to bear the look on his face. “We’ve been taking things so slowly, and I’m so grateful that the little I’ve been able to offer you has been enough.”
“Gwyn.”His voice trembled. “Whatever you can give, whether it’s an ounce or nothing, I would happily take.”
“But what ifI wanted to take?” One of her hands snaked around his neck. “What if I wasn’t ready for everything, but couldn’t get the thought of you touching me out of my head?”
It was his turn to shudder, but he didn’t move an inch. He just let her explain. She pressed herself into him harder, her face reddening when she felt what her words were doing to him. She dared peek down, his arousal present and obvious. It made her mouth water.
“Whatever you want, you can have. Just tell me.” He hands left hers, moving until they were on her waist and he could draw her nearer again. When she was close enough, his index finger landed on her chin, titling her head until he could look into her eyes. She saw fire in them, practically glowing with want. She knew hers would look the same.
“What do you want, Gwyn?”
Him.
“I want you to take your shirt off.”
And it was done. He didn’t hesitate to do as she asked and didn’t speak as she gingerly ran her fingers up and down his bare chest, letting her feel and press. He was a sight to behold – years of training crafting him into something magnificent. His mind, his body-
She kissed him, letting her hands wander to their desire. She kissed his mouth, his neck, and then steeled herself up to kissing the muscled chest she’d admired for so long. All the while, he ran his hands down her back and up to cup her head, his hands tangling in her hair.
“What do you want, Gwyn?”
“I want to sit on that desk as you kiss me. I want the earth-shattering kisses I read about in books. I don’t want you to hold back. I want to know how everyone else feels.”
He nodded, and before she had a chance to say anything else, his hands were on her thighs and he was lifting her. She gasped as he wrapped her legs around his waist, their kiss not breaking as he used one hand to wipe away the paper and knives that littered his workspace. He sat her on his desk, but she tightened her legs around him, wanting him to know she didn’t plan on letting go anytime soon.
Her mouth opened for him, and she groaned as his tongue swept in, unhindered by fear. By the Cauldron, she couldn’t believe how much he had been holding back if this was how he kissed her uninhibited. One hand was on her thigh, the other around her waist to keep them close. So close, she dared to move her hips, just a bit, just to see what it would be like to grind against him. He groaned, his lips moving away from her to savour the feeling of her clothed pussy against his concealed length.
He kissed her again, his passion palpable as he held her, and Gwyn thought she could never go back to before. How could she tolerate the sweet, closed mouth presses of his lips when she could have this? When she could have his mouth working hers so hard she could feel herself start to drip?
She ground her hips again, desperate for the friction.
Azriel pulled back, hip lips swollen and his hair in a mess from where she had unconsciously dragged her fingers through it.
“What do you want, Gwyn?”
Her already racing heart faltered. How far did she want to go? She certainly wasn’t ready for sex, but she thought she might die if she didn’t have more of him. She glanced down between them, swallowing hard when she realised truly what she wanted. Knew that the dreams she had in her mind when her hand was between her legs could be a reality if she just asked.
“I want – I want your mouth on me.”
He stood up straight, her shaking legs barely holding on.
“Do you want me to taste you, Gwyn?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I need you to tell me. I need to know you want this.”
“Yes,yesAzriel. Taste me. Devour me.”
He smirked, and he started to lift her dress.
A jolt went through her, a change in mood he felt instantly. He stopped and stepped back, his hands going to behind his back.
Her eyes widened; she didn’t want him to stop – didn’t mean to make him stop.
“You will lick me until I cry your name so loud the people of Velaris can hear me. But my dress stays on,” she ordered breathlessly.
His smile was serpentine, and she felt it like a pinch to the bundle of nerves he would soon head for.
“Yes ma’am.”
He guided her so she was leaning back, and she yelped as he pulled her hips so she was balanced on the edge of the desk. He ran his hands up her dress, up her legs, as he knelt before her like a knight bowing to his queen. Her dress, which would stay on but had ridden up, bunched at her thighs, giving Azriel ample time to explore.
She watched as he peppered kisses to her calves, her knees and then the soft skin of her inner thighs. Her breathing was hitched, and when Az lifted her legs so that they were over his shoulders she could have ascended.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he whispered, looking up at her.
Those eyes alone had her feeling a way she’s never experienced. She nodded, whispered her yes.
“If you want to stop, at any time, just tell me. Or kick me. Anything you want. But don’t do something you’re uncomfortable with just because I’m here.” He smoothed over her thighs and pressed a kiss to her wet panties, giving her a tease of what was to come. “Do you want this?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll have it.”
He pulled her panties aside and made a wide swipe up her centre, leaving her gasping. His tongue was relentless, but so perfect on her. He had her moaning his name in seconds, and he returned them like the act of pleasuring her was enough for him to find his own. One of her hands stayed in his hair, pulling it with a ferocity that might have pained him, but when she tried to take it away, he snatched at her hand, growling that she can pull it all she wanted. Her other hand went to her breast, feeling like she had to touch the nipples now peeking through her thin dress. Her legs shook in time to his tongue flicking against her clit, and it made a deep ache built between her legs. She moved her hips, unable to stop herself from grinding against his tongue.
His rhythm was better than a royal orchestra – her moans a melody she didn’t think herself capable of. As he continued to feast, the deep ache spread through her stomach and down to her toes, and with one final press of his delicious mouth she screamed his name, gripped onto the desk for support as her back arched and toes curled. His tongue rode her through the orgasm, and it wasn’t until she was whimpering his name that he stopped.
He gently slid her legs off his shoulders. They tremored, the limbs limp jelly in his hands. He hummed in satisfaction, rising to his feet so he could brush the hair from her face. A bead of sweat ran down her cheek, and he leaned forward to kiss it away.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, voice low. He didn’t move away from her, his lips brushing her cheek as he spoke.
“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to walk back to my room.”
Azriel laughed softly, a hoisted her up so he was carrying her like a bride.
“You can stay here.”
“I can’t-”
“In a separate room from me.”
She loved that he knew what she would say before the words even had a chance to form. She may have let him do holy things to her, but she wasn’t ready to share his bed – even if there wasn’t touching involved.
As he carried her, she stared at his beautiful face, awestruck that she might’ve had even just the smallest part of him.
