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sarah-bae-maas · 2 years

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Gwyn wants to explore, and Azriel needs a friend - a Gwynriel fic - Part 2

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!

Part 1 Masterlist Ao3

***

PART 2

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 after she 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 thwack sounded 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 her anything. 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 not happening, 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. But I 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 the only family she has.”

“Did she say that?” Feyre asked, voice barely above a murmur.

“No, she didn’t need to. I can tell.”

“Azriel, I do like Gwyn. We both do. I think she’s great.”

Azriel raised a brow at her, his expression asking the question for him.

“I’m being serious, Az. I know there was a time when Rhys suspected her of some things, but we were just being careful.”

“But I told you she wasn’t a threat. If you trust my judgement so little, then what is the point of me being here? What’s my purpose in this family?”

“We do trust you, and your purpose has nothing to do with your spy work. You’re a part of this family because we love you, not because you’re useful to have around.”

He knew her words were earnest, and he didn’t doubt the love between them all. But there was no denying that Azriel was starting to lose his place here. Everyone was always so fucking happy with their families and mates and lovers, and the only time he’d felt like that was with Gwyn. But he didn’t deserve her, and if he hadn’t already ruined what was between them he certainly had now.

Feyre was clutching her hands in front of her heart, waiting for Azriel to reply. He clenched his jaw, approaching the door.

“I hope you’ll take my words into consideration. Goodbye, Feyre.”

***

Gwyn was content with the quietness, glad to be alone for once. The library was silent in the late hours, the rare acolyte still wandering around but most sane enough to have retired to their quarters.

Gwyn just wanted to shut her brain off. She didn’t want to think about her growing feelings for Azriel, or how she yearned to be at his side, in his bed, to taste the lips they had chastely touched together. She couldn’t think of this thing because if she did she would think of what came next. Either she foolishly declared her love for him or she walked away before the realisation that this wasn’t real hit her again.

“Gwyn?”

She jumped at the sound of her name and turned in her chair to see Azriel’s mother looking at her.

“I thought you’d gone home,” she said in greeting.

“I wanted to talk to you one last time and convinced Rhys to bring me here. Although I suspect we’ll see each other many times over the coming years.” She pulled a chair to sit next to Gwyn, placing her hands over Gwyn’s as she sat.

“I want to tell you a story,” she said once settled. “I don’t usually interfere with affairs that aren’t my own, but there’s things you should know before I go.”

Gwyn nodded, listening intently.

“I have always loved my son to the best of my ability. He is my heart, the reason I live, but he has always doubted if he was someone that could be loved, let alone a male that deserved it. The way he was treated as a child, bound and tortured, broke the part of him that accepts the love he deserves. It didn’t matter how much Rhys and Cassian adored him, or how much Rhys’ mother thought of him as her own, so many things had happened to him that he was never able to see through it.” She paused, her face hard as she recalled the memories. “It was not until Rhys was appointed High Lord and he took me from where I was that I had any contact with my son after letting him go. I didn’t know how to read or write yet, and I had accepted my fate in his Lord father’s household. But that – that’s irrelevant. My Azriel will fight till his death for the ones he loves, but he will never fight for himself. Gwyn, you must persevere with him. The way he is with you? It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen him so open, and unguarded, and,” she took a deep breathe, her lips barely moving up in a smile, “happy. And that’s all I want for him.”

What she was saying made sense. Azriel was the most loving person she’d ever met, as infuriating as he sometimes was, but she could see the ways in which he rejected that love for himself. She saw it whenever Cassian kissed Nesta, and Azriel got distant. She saw it when he looked longingly as Nyx and Feyre, as if he wanted those things for his own but didn’t think he could ever have them.

And by the Cauldron she loved him.

This selfless, loving, enraging man was the one she loved most in this world. There was just one problem. It wasn’t the lack of his self-esteem keeping him from her. It was that he did not love her back.

Gwyn covered her face with her hands, pushing her palms in to her eyes to stop her own tears. “I will never be enough for him.” Her voice cracked.

“Why?” Azriel’s mother pleaded.

“Because I am broken.” Gwyn became overcome with the emotion she’d tried to hideaway. The past two months, her heart breaking every time she thought of Azriel, the constant dreams of Catrin. “I am an awful person, and I do not deserve him. I am callous. I don’t think things through. My sister was the better of us and after she died I replaced her with Nesta and Emerie like she meant nothing.” Gwyn clutched a hand to her chest, a searing pain slashing through her. “My sister is dead. And I lived, and every day I have done things that would let her down.”

“Your sister may have departed us, but her soul, her love for you is alive. You will feel her in the wind, smell her in the flowers during spring.” She touched Gwyn’s temple. “She is alive in here.”

Gwyn furiously wiped at her tears, hating that she was so emotional in front of someone she’d only known a handful of days.

“Why do you hide your tears from me?” she asked.

“Because all I do is cry; I hate it. I need to be stronger.”

“Oh, young one, crying is not a weakness. You are in pain, and that pain deserves to be acknowledged.”

Gwyn let her tears fall, accepting the embrace of Azriel’s mother like she was her own.

The talk they had after that was one Gwyn needed to hear – from a female who’s past was so like her own. Gwyn was whole. Gwyn was capable of great things, and if those things took time, then so be it. The shame Gwyn had felt veiled in since the attack on Sangravah lifted ever so slightly, and the ache in her heart eased enough that she could breathe normally again.

Gwyn had been letting things in her fester until the ache consumed her, whether it be in how she perceived herself or the night-terrors that had her in a steel grip. She needed this talk, a person to prompt her to confront of her past. If she wanted to heal, she needed to acknowledge that she needed to. Starting now, Gwyn would try. And starting soon, maybe Azriel could see that. See her for who she was, and love her for who she was, cracks and breaks and all.

***

“Gwyn asked me a question today. I don’t know the answer, but you might.” Mor was sitting with him while she waited for Emerie to bathe after training. It was the first time they’d been alone together in a while, and Azriel was pleasantly surprised at how companionable it was. They’d never had the talk about his feelings, by the Cauldron he did not want to, and his feelings for her had long since faded.

“Is she okay?” Azriel focused on Mor, abandoning the knitting needles his mother had given him. She’d thought the hobby would be good for him, and he was attempting to make a beanie for Nyx. So far, he’d managed to make some tangled yarn.

“She’s fine. She asked me if I knew where her sister was buried.”

He startled. “Why was she asking?”

“I have no idea. Do you know? I told her I’d look into it.”

After the temple had been raided and they’d taken note of the dead, they’d mostly left burial decisions to the villagers. As far as Azriel knew, most had been buried in the graveyard next to the destroyed temple, with the hope that they would one day re-build what was lost. However, Gwyn had mentioned her mother being buried near the coast after her passing, so perhaps Catrin had been laid to rest there.

Whatever the answer, Azriel would find out. He told Mor as much, and she thanked him. They waited together in silence, the beanie back in his hands and as shitty as ever, when Rhys decided to invade their personal space.

Azriel took that as his cue to leave. The House of Wind wasn’t big enough to fit Rhysand’s ego and Azriel’s bad mood at the same time.

Rhys had tried to summon him eight times in the fortnight since he’d spoken to Feyre, and he’d ignored him. If it was important, he could haul his ass up to the House of Wind or get Cassian.

“Hey Rhys,” Mor said, her eyes following Azriel as he got up from his seat.

“C’mon, Az. Stay, I need to talk to you.”

Azriel recognised the familiar look on Rhys and Mor’s faces that said they were talking amongst their minds, and with a prompt goodbye and a kiss to both their cheeks, Mor scrambled off to find Emerie.

Great. The three of them had plans in the city and now he’d have to wait for them to stop railing each other before they could go.

Azriel pinched his nose, not excited for the onslaught that was to come.

“How have you been?” Rhys asked, the question unexpected.

“Fine,” Azriel answered curtly.

“I know you’re lying.”

“Using your daemati abilities on me without asking, that’s new.”

“No, I’ve just known you the entirety of our lives, and I worry about you.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I can’t help it. You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“Maybe I just haven’t been the same around you, High Lord.”

Rhys’ eyes shone, with anger or sadness Azriel didn’t know. What he did know was that the last thing he wanted to do was have a heart to heart chat.

“You think I don’t know what’s been going on? Cassian is worried out of his fucking mind. Nesta, bloody Nestacame to me because she didn’t know how to help you.”

“Leave it be, Rhys.”

“No. I won’t. Because you’re my brother and I can’t stand to see you like this.”

Azriel turned his back to Rhys counted to ten in his head, trying to calm his thoughts. When he had composed himself to talk to Rhys without shouting, he turned to his brother. “When Feyre came to the Night Court, you ordered us to not talk to her about the awful shit she was going through, saying she needed to heal on her own. We left Nesta alone for months and months while she tried to deal with her crap, because you and Feyre said she needed time. Can I not have that same allowance? A few weeks to figure my shit out?”

“Sort out what exactly? Whatever happened between you and Gwyn?”

“Don’t say her name.”

“I’ll say whatever I damn want if it means you confront whatever demons you’re battling. Just admit you love her and go get your girl, Az. I don’t understand why you aren’t together when you both are so obviously obsessed with each other. You were fucking happy, Az. The happiest I’ve ever seen you. And I wish I had known it was because of her. I wouldn’t have said, or even thought, half the stuff I did if I had known.”

Azriel flashed back to the night Gwyn had braved the stairs and walked through the city to get to him. To embracing her in the street with not a care in the world. To the look on Rhys’ faced that spoke of nothing but disapproval. In that moment, Rhys had confirmed everything Azriel had ever thought about himself.

Even though Rhys suspected Gwyn of treason, he still did not think Azriel was good enough for her.

Azriel was hit with the exhaustion he’d been fighting off for days – weeks – months – and collapsed back into his chair. He was too tired for this conversation. Then again, he couldn’t picture a day where he was well rested enough to deal with this.

“The reason I’m not with Gwyn isn’t because I don’t want to be,” Azriel said slowly.

“I didn’t investigate Gwyn because I truly thought she was working against us. You were right. I had dropped it until I saw you together.”

Azriel leant his head back, staring at the white ceiling. “Why?”

“If you loved her, I had to be sure she wouldn’t do something to jeopardise you. Watching you get your heart broken again was not something I could do. So, I was selfish. I wanted to make sure she was who you thought she was.”

Azriel’s eyes burned. “I don’t understand. I saw how much you disapproved.”

“I wasn’t against the idea of you. I was confused. I didn’t understand when it all happened between you, and I still don’t, and I didn’t understand why you didn’t just tell me that everything I was suspicious of was just because you two were seeing each other. When did we start keeping secrets like that?”

Azriel didn’t want to acknowledge the words. Half of his reasoning behind his decision to leave her be was because he had wholeheartedly believed that not even his own family thought he was good enough for her.

This only proved how broken he was.

“I don’t fit here anymore,” he told Rhys, finally looking him in the eye.

His brother’s face was as open as a book – pain, remorse. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve all made a real family. Irrevocably connected to one another. You have Feyre, and Nyx, and Cassian has Nesta. Mor has Emerie. I can’t see myself here anymore. I’m always on the outside. I can’t relate to you. If I wasn’t here, would anything really change? Am I even needed anymore?”

And as Azriel said the words, he knew the truth behind them. The tipping point may have been Gwyn, but his despair had been growing long before that, its only reprieve the moments he was at her side.

Rhys stormed across the room, grabbing Azriel by the arm and hauling him up.

Rhys did something Azriel hadn’t expected.

Rhys hugged him – the kind of hug you’d give after winning a battle, the kind of hug you’d give after being separated for years, the kind of hug you only give to those dearest to you. The exact kind of hug Rhys had given him after the war five hundred years ago when they’d been kept apart by Rhys’ father, never knowing if the other was truly okay and praying to the Mother that they were all alive. Azriel wrapped his arms around his brother in return, the two Illyrian males holding onto each other for dear life.

“You’re my brother, how could you ever think that I could live without you?”

Azriel felt Rhys’ tears on his shoulder, summoning some of his own.

“There may be no blood between us, brother, but I choose you as my family, and I will always choose you. You are worthy. You are deserving. And I love you.”

Azriel wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Long enough for Mor and Emerie to sneak out. Long enough for the House to light up as the sun set. Long enough for Cassian to find them and shove them apart so he could join in.

Three brothers in every way that mattered, Azriel had just let himself forget.

***

Gwyn had a package. Never, ever, had she received a package before. In Sangravah, if anyone wanted to tell her something they’d just come find her, there was no need to send it in the mail.

Nesta had brought it to her, saying it had been sent to the House. They were both trepidus at first, until they realised the sender had been Azriel’s mother. Gwyn took it to her room to open it in private. There was a loose letter atop a bunch of tightly packed envelopes, and Gwyn opened it to scan what Azriel’s mother had said.

Gwyn,

I wanted to show you these, so there was no doubt in your mind of the sincerity of the words I told you before I left.

Please, be gentle with Azriel’s heart. He hasn’t written me since I left, and I don’t think he’s sleeping.

All my love.

The envelopes below were dated from around the time Nesta and Gwyn became friends to just before Gwyn and Azriel had ended things, and Gwyn opened the first to see that Azriel’s mother had highlighted certain sections for her to read. She scanned her eyes over them, barely taking them in before frantically opening the next letters to see if they were the same.

Azriel’s mother had noted every section of his letters that spoke about Gwyn. Gwyn wondered if reading his words was a violation of his privacy, and if she should thank his mother for her generosity, but send them back without reading them.

And then Gwyn remembered how nosey she was, and that Az’s mother wanted her to read this, and went back to the beginning.

It started simple, Az talking about how someone had finally joined Nesta in her training, a girl Azriel knew from the war against Hybern. Knew of, he’d corrected himself, it wasn’t fair to say you knew someone just because you’d been there on the worst day of their life.

When she’d cut the ribbon, and how proud he was. When he found her training on solstice and how he’d given her the necklace meant for someone else. The memory made Gwyn laugh just thinking about it. Oh Az, he was a great gift giver but he’d really bungled that one. He went into their private training sessions, when she started having nightly dinners with him, Cassian and Nesta, and the absolute crushing fear he’d felt when they discovered she’d been taken for the Bloodrite. He talked about how she’d won, and how he was floored by her, and the words made Gwyn’s heart flood with love.

There was so much. With every letter, she became a more prominent character in the tales he would regale for his mother. It was no wonder she had so eagerly wanted to meet Gwyn, Gwyn was at the centre of everything Azriel had said before they’d even started their arrangement. And then the dates from after they’d gotten together could have been written by another male. His happiness exuded through the pages, no hint of the darkness that was synonymous with Azriel.

It read like a romance novel, and if Gwyn hadn’t been the one living this mess, she would have thought there was no other way Azriel could possibly feel about her.

Which either made her incredibly dense, or there was something going on that she didn’t understand.

Ruminating on the thoughts, she repacked the letters and quickly hid them in her room so that none of the other acolytes accidentally stumbled upon them. She then wondered if she could get away with taking a few hours away from the library. She did work through the morning, and she was miles ahead of where she would’ve been if she’d been going to training, so she decided to risk it and run to the House of Wind. If she missed anything important, she’d just work through the night again.

Sneaking into the House was easy, she did it all the time. She crept along the hallway and heard the light voices of Mor and Azriel in one of the many common rooms. Avoiding that route, she would talk to Az, just not yet, she took a roundabout way until she was in the House’s library.

Nesta could often be found here in the late afternoon, and Gwyn was praying that since she hadn’t seen Nesta working today, she was doing something here. The room was empty, and with a grunt of frustration Gwyn went to Nesta’s bedroom, hoping maybe she’d be there.

She was relieved to find not only Nesta, but also Emerie. Nesta was sitting with her back to the bathroom door, a forgotten book open in her lap, Emerie’s voice echoing through with the sound of splashing punctuating her words.

“Hello!” Gwyn greeted, her voice awkwardly loud.

Nesta grinned as she looked up at Gwyn, and Emerie yelled a greeting in return, the sound of water thrashing loudly. Emerie appeared in an instant, a fluffy red towel wrapped around her.

“I was just about to come find you. I’m heading into the city soon with Mor, but I wanted to know if you wanted to have dinner with us tonight. We could bring anything you want back from Velaris and come to you in the library, if you’d like.”

Gwyn walked to Emerie, wrapping her arms around her wet friend. “Thank you, but I think I’ll be occupied.”

Emerie hugged her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pretending to glare at Nesta. “Gwyn would have sat with me in the bathroom,” she joked.

“I was attempting to preserve propriety,” Nesta said.

“You’ve guarded me on the side of a mountain while I’ve taken a shit. I really don’t care if you see me naked.”

Gwyn laughed, squeezing Emerie once more before letting her go. “How was training this morning?”

“It went well, but we miss having you there.” Emerie patted her cheek before walking back into the bathroom.

Nesta got to her feet, ushering Gwyn further into the room. “It’s been weird without you, I don’t like it. Will you come back soon?”

Gwyn nodded, then voiced herself when she remembered Emerie wouldn’t be able to hear her. “I think so. I actually came to talk to you about that, if you have the time.”

“Of course we have the time,” Emerie called. “But first…”

She walked out of the room, stark naked holding up two sets of lingerie on hangers. Nesta sighed, and Gwyn snickered.

“Which one do you think Mor would enjoy more? She likes me in red, but the white looks nice with my skin tone. It’s also crotchless.”

“You two have gotten too comfortable in my home.” Despite her words, Nesta looked thoughtfully over the outfits. “I like the white.”

“Me too,” Gwyn added.

Emerie hummed in agreement, going back into the bathroom and not returning until she was fully dressed in a nice off the shoulder shirt and pants.

“It’s no surprise Morrigan was jealous of us when you first started dating. At that point we’d likely seen you naked more than she had.” Gwyn sat on the end of Nesta’s bed.

“Ah yes, but I can assure you what we do when she sees me naked is very different.”

“For your sake, I would hope so. If I had all that naked Cassian and none of the benefits, I would still be a very bitter woman.”

They all laughed together, Emerie sitting in front of Nesta’s full length mirror to do her hair. Gwyn thought it was quite sweet to see Emerie dress up for Mor, it was a side of Emerie she’d never seen before.

“Onto more pressing issues, what plans do you have today, Gwyn?” Emerie asked.

Gwyn opened her mouth to ask them the question she’d come armed with, but she was interrupted by the cheery voice of Mor as she flounced into the room.

She waved at Gwyn and Nesta before plopping herself behind Emerie and wrapping her arms around her waist. She kissed the back of her neck, whispering something in Emerie’s ear that made her nod.

Gwyn didn’t want to interrupt them, so she stayed quiet, her hands in her lap as she looked at them. She felt jealous at their ease – how easy it seemed for them to be together.

“I’ll meet you in the library when you’re done getting ready,” Mor said loudly enough for them all to hear. As quickly as she came in, she left in a flurry. Emerie seemed unfazed – perhaps this was how Mor always was.

“Gwyn, you were saying?” Emerie asked, making eye contact with her through the reflection in the mirror.

“I have two sentences for you both. And I want your opinion on what resonates more.”

Emerie turned to fully face her, abandoning her hair. Nesta came to her side, putting her hands over Gwyn’s and interlocking their fingers.

“Why are you both looking at me like that?” Gwyn gave them both the side-eye.

Emerie came to her other side, putting an arm around her shoulders. “We’re just – we’ve been – it’s just hard to see you sad all the time. We were hoping you would come talk to us about it, but we wanted to give you space.”

“We didn’t want you to feel pressured to talk,” Nesta added. “Sometimes that makes things harder.”

“Oh,” Gwyn exhaled. She pressed a hearty kiss to both their cheeks. “I’m okay.”

“You’re hurting,” Emerie said.

“And we want to be here for you,” Nesta finished.

“Then, you can help me with my conundrum.” Gwyn jumped to her feet and turned to them, clapping her hands together, ready to present.

Emerie and Nesta leant forward, listening intently.

“Sentence one, Azriel and I aren’t together because he doesn’t love me. Two, Azriel and I aren’t together because he thinks he doesn’t deserve my love. I know what I’m starting to think, but what about you.”

Nesta and Emerie shared a look, and then said synchronously, “Number two.”

“And why do we think that?” Gwyn asked.

“Because he’s obviously heartbroken, and the way he reacted when he saw you dancing with Elvin wasn’t the reaction of a male who only feels friendship.”

“Thank you, Emerie. Nesta?”

“I concur. I want you both to be happy, and I think you would be together. Normally, I wouldn’t like the idea of my sister’s happiness being contingent on the feelings of another, but, and correct me if I’m wrong, this sadness wouldn’t be a problem if you and Azriel were together.”

“I think he loves me, at least a little bit,” Gwyn confessed. “I didn’t for a long time, but there’s been some things,” Azriel’s letters in which he said everything about her except the word love, “that have come to light, and I want to try and make this work. And I have a plan.”

***

Gwyn was in his room.

Azriel had roamed the skies for hours after his conversation with Rhys. Rhys had gone into explicit detail with him and Cassian about the investigation of Gwyn – how and why he did it. How: a female he’d hired from a trustworthy guild who had consented to Rhys erasing her memories of all that she found in the library as soon as she was done. Why: because he needed to know what Azriel wasn’t falling for a woman who would betray him.

There was a lot of loose ends to tie up. Rhys admitted he regretted the way he went about it, but that he thought the end result was worth it. He had no doubt in his mind that Gwyn deserved the praise of Azriel and Nesta, and even more.

It did leave Azriel with a bigger task than he’d wanted, making sure Gwyn never found out about any of this. While flying, he replayed everything he had to do to ensure that Gwyn would remain feeling safe in that library. He’d had to contact dozens of the acolytes, none of whom should ever have been forced to speak to someone in the first place, let alone follow up with him. He’d made excuses upon excuses as to why a female fae Rhys had hired came in the library and asked so many questions, and he wanted to kick his brother’s ass when he realised many of them were wary of the newcomer. Clotho especially wrote her displeasure, although she agreed with Rhys in saying it needed to be done. She couldn’t take any chances after Hybern attacked the library all those years ago. Azriel placated her fears, reminding her of her adoration for Gwyn, and then he left, finally ready to collapse into bed. Clotho conceded that she wasn’t worried about a threat like Rhys, more concerned of a threat to Gwyn. She’d looked at him then in her all-knowing way, and Azriel suspected her calmed fears had nothing to do with Rhys deigning Gwyn innocent.

And then there she was. In his room. On his bed. Sleeping. She was in her uniform atop the blanket, but her head rested on his pillow as she slept on her side.

His bed still held the faint smell of Gwyn. Azriel buried himself in it every night just to feel like he was close to her. But over time, it was fading, and Azriel didn’t know what he was going to do with himself once it was completely gone.

The sound of his door closing was enough to wake her. She sat up with a groggy look on her face, a little bit of drool on her chin. She rubbed at her eyes with one of her hands, the other supporting her body.

He approached the bed slowly, not wanting to move to fast after she just woke up lest he scare her. “Gwyneth, is everything okay?”

He knelt next to her on the floor.

“Hmm?”

“Gwyn.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He could feel his pulse start to rise, and he thought of every possible scenario as she shook herself out of a dreamy daze. Was she hurt? Scared? Had something happened and she needed his help? He didn’t want to overwhelm her with questions, but his body was tense with anticipation.

“Gwyn.” His voice was harder, more serious. “What are you doing here?”

Her face fell at his words, and she looked away from him. “I was waiting for you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.” She pushed herself off the bed and paced to the other side of his room. He remained on the floor, realising how his tone must have come across.

Five seconds into their first conversation in weeks and he’d already made her believe he didn’t want her to be there.

She fiddled with her fingers, her classic sign of nervousness, and refused to look him in the eye.

“You’re welcome anytime, Gwyn, I just need to know that you’re okay-”

“I got a letter from your mother today.”

“I’m not surprised,” he chuckled. “She likes you.”

“She’s worried about you. She said she doesn’t think you’re sleeping, and that you haven’t written to her since she left.”

Az smiled ruefully. “I’ve never been a good sleeper.” Az knew it would be his mother to say such things, her mouth had always been too big when it came to those she loved. But the last thing Az needed was for Gwyn to spend one minute of her precious time worrying over someone like him.

“I disagree. I often observed you sleeping quite deeply.”

Azriel finally got to his feet, satisfied that Gwyn wasn’t in danger. “I believe I slept so well because I had spent so much of my energy,” he told her, not missing the blush on her cheeks as he said the words.

“Okay, well, even if you are not sleeping, are you okay?”

He didn’t know how to answer that question. He was as fine as he ever was, except that he could only see her when once he would have just seen the kitchen they cooked in together, the bathroom where they bathed together, the library where she would read her favourite dirty books to him before he inevitably went to his knees for her. He was fine except every moment of his existence was plagued with how he’d lost her, and hurt her, and how there was nothing he could do about it unless he wanted to risk eventually being overcome with his darkness.

“Yeah, I’m doing okay.”

She knew he wasn’t, she didn’t even have to say it aloud.

“I’m… I’m not doing okay,” she confessed, the words piercing his chest.

He had been waiting for this. For her to tell him that he had ruined her, that he was the biggest mistake she had ever made and she rued the day they first kissed and everything that had become of them since.

“I’m conflicted, because I don’t regret a single second of the time I’ve had with you, but I also hate what we’ve become.” She approached him gingerly. “I miss you, Az. Every second of every day, I miss you.”

He swallowed hard, his wings shuddering at her words.

“It’s more than that though. I don’t feel secure anymore, like I’ve lost some vital part of myself. It’s not that I don’t feel safe, it’s just that I don’t feel,” she grappled with the words, “I don’t feel settled. And after speaking with Emerie and Nesta, part of me thinks that maybe you feel the same? That maybe we said we were best friends and then acted like strangers?”

She placed her hands on his chest, and he trapped them there. She scrutinised his face, the shadows beneath his eyes evident.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” she deadpanned.

“No, not really.”

She glanced at the bed behind him. “Do you want me to sleep here tonight?”

He tilted his head in confusion.

“Not – not like that.” She took her hands back and guided him to the bed. Her jaw was set as she ordered him to take his clothes off, finding him some pyjamas to change into while he did.

“Another confession I should make. I’ve been having nightmares about Catrin. Sometimes the only way I can sleep is if I have a friend with me. I should be paying Cassian reparations for the number of times I’ve come here in the middle of the night and he’s had to leave his bed so that I can sleep in it with Nesta. But sometimes you need to have that bed, Az. You need a bed, and a friend, and if you want, I can do that for you.”

He didn’t know what to say, as always cowed the generosity of the female before him. The idea of her with him, not for anything other than rest, made his chest ache with wanting. Had he not pictured her here every night since their last? Had he not banished the House from his room so that he could try and preserve every part of her that she’d left behind?

He’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted her right now, in his bed, in his arms, doing for him what no one else could.

Azriel nodded at Gwyn, no trusting himself to say anything aloud. If he did, he would beg her to stay: for tonight, forever.

She smiled at him and started to strip his bed. An ounce of shame entered him at how truly filthy his room was, but he didn’t really care, not when she would never judge him, not when he was just trying to preserve the essence of her.

When the sheets were clean and blankets and pillows fluffed, she grabbed his hand and led him to the bed. He undressed until he was in his underwear and slid into the blankets. Expecting her to follow him immediately after, he was surprised when she started to rifle in his closet, pulling out the largest shirt he owned.

He tried not to watch her, but with her back to him, he was enthralled by her dress falling to the ground, all but her panties following suit. His shirt fell to her mid-thigh, and the slits in the back for his wings meant with each of her movements a slice of her back could be seen.

When she finally approached him, it was like the time, his life, without her had never happened. He opened his arms and she slid into them, snaking her legs through his and drawing him to her chest. He was practically atop her when she started humming a song they had once sung in harmony.

And for the first time in too long, he slept with no ghosts haunting him.

***

Azriel slept for twelve fucking hours. No dreams. No rude awakenings. Just pure, deep sleep.

He awoke facing Gwyn, his arms around her and her face tucked into his neck. Her head was on his pillow and her legs still wrapped around his, and by the looks of it, she had slept just as peacefully as him.

He shifted his body, trying to get up without waking her, but she grumbled in her sleep and pulled him closer. He knew he needed to get up, training with the females from the library began in half an hour, but how could he possibly when she was snuggled so contently into him?

“Gwyn,” he whispered, hesitant to wake her so that he didn’t have to let her go.

She smacked her lips and continued to snuggle, one of her hands starting to rub up and down his back as if to sooth him.

“Gwyn.”

“Shhhh. Just go back to sleep,” she muttered, the words barely discernible.

“I have to go train.”

She opened her eyes blearily, blinking sleep from them. She stretched her hands above her head and arched her back, making his shirt ride up to just below her underwear. He averted his gaze, trying to stay focused on her face.

“How long do you have?”

“Twenty-five minutes.”

“Okay, that’s enough time.” She sat up, smiling down at him. She smelt like she always did – like summer’s rain and freshly printed books.

“Enough time for what?” He tried not to look too reverent as he observed her, but he knew he was failing. With her hair lying in whisps around her face and her teal eyes brighter than a syphon, it was impossible to not want to bow before her.

“I wanted to tell you that I’ve seen Nesta and Emerie naked.”

“I – what?”

“I have. Lots of times. And I’m sure you’ve seen Cassian and Rhys naked. Nesta said at solstice you even all sit in a sauna in nothing but your skin for hours.”

“Yes, that’s true...”

“Here’s the thing, Azriel.” She pushed him onto his back, swinging a leg over his hips and straddling him. His dick was instantly alert, and he bit his lip to stop himself from growling at the way she looked atop him. “I see my friends naked. You see your friends naked. So, it only stands to reason that it’s perfectly normal for us to have seen every inch of each other’s skin, especially considering we’re best friends. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice strangled. “But I haven’t done the naked things I do with you with Cassian or Rhys.”

“Shame. That would be fun to imagine.” She laughed and hopped off him, bundling her dress up in her arms and walking towards the bathroom. “Azriel, this is to say that henceforth, there will be no awkwardness between us. No regrets. No holding back. We’re friends, and if, as friends, we slip and see each other in the nude, who cares?”

He was trying not to hyperventilate. She wasn’t mad at him anymore? There was no bitterness in her expression, just playfulness, and it reminded him so strongly of before that seeing her leaning against his bathroom door should have essentially been a flashback.

More than anything, he believed the truth in her words because he wanted to. He wanted the ease they once had to return, and he also couldn’t fault her logic.

“Friends?”

“Best friends,” he agreed.

***

Step one of the plan: friendship. An honest to the Cauldron, Mother above approved friendship.

Check.

Gwyn was confident with her Emerie and Nesta approved plan, and excited to see how her and Az might change as time went by. She didn’t care if it took weeks, months, or even years, for him to feel confident in their relationship, he needed to be more confident in himself – which is exactly the sentiment that his mother had passed on to Gwyn about herself.

She also realised that she had to do her own healing if she was going to be with him. No more thinking she was broken or unlovable. She was Gwyn, warrior extraordinaire, twin to Catrin, heart sister to Emerie and Nesta. A person not worthy of love would not have such fine people who cared for her.

There was something she needed to do to achieve her own goal.

It was a few days after she had bombarded Azriel in his room. It was at that moment that she knew, truly, that more than a lover, Az needed a friend, and that what she was doing was the right thing.

Because she was in love him.

She wouldn’t tell him, not yet, it would just make him run further away.

He was watching her make them breakfast, eyes following her every move. She was making (not very successfully) blueberry and banana pancakes.

“I can help,” he said for the fiftieth time.

Gwyn held up the pan, which definitely did not contain burnt pancakes. “No need. Now sit down and prepare for the best breakfast of your life.”

She had not stayed with him last night, but she had the two before that. She had also gone back to training. She felt silly that she had ever stopped going, especially because of problems with a male of all things, but the distance was at the very least clarifying.

She looked at Azriel and sighed. Maybe it was hard to bake because he was sitting at the island in nothing but loose pants, his chiselled chest on full display.

He did not heed her command, getting up and coming to inspect her batter. He dipped a finger in and tasted it, moaning when it met his tongue. “Let’s just eat it raw,” he suggested.

“Do you like it raw? I do.” She dipped her own finger in, sucking on her finger just a second longer than she needed to.

It had the intended effect. He blushed from his cheeks to his chest. “Have you been talking to Rhys or Feyre?” He narrowed his eyes.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “No, should I be?”

He shook his head. His finger lingered near the batter, but she swatted it away. “If you keep eating it there won’t be any left for the actual pancakes.”

“I don’t think we’ll get a chance to eat them anyway.”

“Well, in that case.” She smiled demurely before dumping the contents of the bowl down his chest.

“Oh, you’re going to regret that.”

She laughed in delight as he pulled her into his chest, smearing the batter all over her.

***

“Up that road is Feyre’s studio, do you want to go?”

“Yes, and no. Maybe later? I want to see more of the city before the sun sets.”

Gwyn was holding onto his arm tightly as they ventured through Velaris. It was her first time in the city during the day, and Azriel was still in disbelief that she’d asked him to give her a tour of the city. She said she was trying to push her own boundaries, again, and that she did not want to do it alone. Of course he took the opportunity to be alone with her.

As he had the last week.

He did not know why, but things had been different since the day he’d settled things with Rhys and she had come into his room. She was with him the way she was before, before he’d hurt her, before everything tore to shreds between them. As perplexed as he was, he was not going to complain.

He led her through the streets, taking their time. Gwyn stopped at every store front, peeking in through the windows but rarely entering. It wasn’t until she stopped them in front of a familiar jewellery store that he innocuously tried to steer her away.

“Some of those pieces on display are beautiful,” she said, her nose nearly touching the window as she peered at the display. “Can we go in?”

He didn’t want to deny her, but why here? It was the source of one of his greatest embarrassments.

She must have noticed the heat on his cheeks.

“Oh no. This is where you got that necklace, isn’t it?”

He looked pained. Gwyn burst out laughing at his expression, pulling at his arm to leave the establishment.

“I would rather not relive that memory,” he told her.

“One day you’ll find it as funny as I do, and besides, it was the nicest thing I’d ever owned until, you know, it was taken back and thrown off the side of a mountain.”

“I went to look for it you know, so that you could keep it.”

She rested her head on his shoulder as they walked, and he moved his arm around her to tuck her into his side. They must have looked mighty romantic as they walked through Velaris, but he didn’t care who saw. Let the people know that Gwyn was with him, that she cared for him enough to entrust him with her safety.

“Just promise any future gifts you get me haven’t been vetoed by other females first and we’ll be fine.”

***

Gwyn sat in Feyre’s studio watching Nyx while she painted. Azriel sat in the corner looking over positively titillating trade negotiation forms – at least he was able to work near her. He hated the times over the past few weeks that he’d have to leave Velaris to fulfil whatever tasks Feyre or Rhys gave to him. Although, it did feel nice every time they were reunited. She held him extra tight when they slept, even though they had yet to touch in any other way.

Not that he wanted to – no, yes, of course he wanted to. He just didn’t want to take advantage of her because he knew she was open to the idea. He chuckled to himself over her naked analogy, and he would be lying if the image of her naked with Nesta and Emerie hadn’t accidentally popped into his head at the time.

“I used to run activities with the children at the temple.” He heard Gwyn saying to Feyre.

“Like what?”

Azriel was glad to see them talking. He may have reconciled with Rhys, but there was still a part of him that couldn’t help but worry that Gwyn would feel excluded by them.

“I helped with the choir and Catrin did dance classes for toddlers, although dancing is a generous description of what they did. It was adorable watching all those tots follow her around.”

Azriel put the documents down, narrowing in on their conversation. He wasn’t arrogant enough to believe that he knew everything about Gwyn, not at all, but he would bet his knowledge rivalled even Nesta’s. But this was new. Gwyn, in most of the stories she told about the temple, focused on the shenanigans of her and Catrin.

“It was nice, being around them. Children are a nice reminder of the innocence that remains, even after bad things. That was, of course, before… everything, but the sentiment still stands.”

Feyre looked over Gwyn thoughtfully, the former not noticing as Nyx brought Gwyn an abandoned brush, babbling as he showed it off to her. Gywn looked at it in wonder, and Nyx took that as a sign to plonk himself down in her lap.

“You should come to my classes,” Feyre said.

Gwyn’s mouth made a pretty little surprised ‘o.’ “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t think I’m ready to put myself out there like that just yet. I’m happy with what I have.”

“Not the ones with the adults, those are more for drinking wine and gossiping. I think you should help me with the children.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you’d gain as much from them as they would from you. These kids have been hurt, and lost things, but every day they prove how incredibly resilient they are. They remind me of you.”

Gywn looked down at Nyx. Azriel could practically see the wheels of her mind turning as she pondered Feyre’s words. “Can I think about it?”

“Sure, take all the time you need. We’ll always be here.”

Gwyn nodded, absentmindedly smoothing down Nyx’s dark hair.

The bell on the studio door dinged, but Az wasn’t worried. His shadows had warned him of Nesta’s impending arrival a while ago.

“Feyre? Gwyn?”

“Up here!” Feyre called back.

Nesta’s footsteps pounded as she came up the stairs, but she didn’t come into the room any further than a few steps.

“Gwyn, Emerie and I are going for a walk through the city, want to join us?”

Azriel was curious as to what Gwyn would say. She had yet to venture into the city, or anywhere other than the House or the library, without him at her side. And the cutting glance Nesta gave him as she asked the question informed him he was not welcome on this particular adventure.

“Okay,” Gwyn said suspiciously quickly. She got up, manoeuvring Nyx so he was standing in front of her. “Go to Az! Good boy!”

Azriel grinned as his nephew walked over to him with a slobbery smile on his face. Azriel enveloped him up, the documents he was meant to be reading long forgotten as he looked into the eyes of Nyx. Hopefully Nesta and Cassian would have a baby soon too, and then he would get to live with one. Which, if he had Gwyn, Nesta and Cassian would most certainly let him do.

Gwyn waved goodbye to them and hurried off with Nesta. Azriel wondered if Cassian had any idea what they were up to.

He sat in content silence with Feyre while Nyx made non-sensical noises. He still had his paint brush and was using it over the tattoos he could see on Azriel’s arms.

“So, are you two…” Feyre waved her hand around.

Azriel snorted, peppering a kiss to Nyx’s head. “No, we aren’t together.”

“Really? You could have fooled me.”

Feyre put down the brush she was holding. Setting her painting aside, she walked over to him in ridiculous, paint covered overalls. Even her hair had paint in it, even though she’d tied it out of the way. She sat at his feet, crossing her legs and using his legs as a backrest, not looking at him.

“Az?”

“Yes, Feyre.”

“That’s fucking stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

Feyre slid a hand around his calf, anchoring them together. “If you love her, you should be with her. I can’t see a single reason as to why you two are apart when you make each other so happy, and so glaringly love one another.”

Azriel burned at the words. Even if they were true, even if that’s how he felt, he didn’t feel like going into all the reasons with Feyre why being with Gwyn wasn’t the grand idea she thought it was.

Gwyn, effervescent light that she was, was not one he could taint with his darkness. What would happen if he let himself love her, fall so deeply into her in a way he never had with another, just for it to end in disaster? It would be torture for her, and it would about near kill him. It was better to not run the risk – it was better to wait, make her happy, until the right person came along. And when they did, when she found them and wanted them, he could step aside willingly to ensure that she was happy.

“Az, you shouldn’t think like that.”

His gaze snapped to her, but she hurried to defend herself.

“I didn’t want to hear you, you projected until I did.” She hurried to stand up, facing him with her hands on her hips and determination on her face. “Azriel, I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to answer honestly.”

Azriel sighed. “Okay.”

“Do you think Gwyn is an idiot?”

“What? No.”

“Do you think she immature?”

“No.”

“Incapable?”

“No.”

“Unable to make decisions for herself?”

“Of course not.”

“Do you think she made a mistake in befriending Nesta?”

“I – why would you even ask that?”

Feyre crossed her arms. “She believed in Nesta before anyone else did, even Cassian. She saw Nesta for who she really was before I did, she gave my own sister the grace that she needed when no one else thought to.”

“I don’t understand what this has to do with me.”

“Azriel, do you really think so little of Gwyn that you don’t believe she can make her own choices when it comes to someone she loves? Do you think so little of her intelligence and esteem that you presume she would be with you for any other reason than she thought you were the one for her?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“No, it’s not. You say that you’ll be here for her until she finds the one she wants, but you’re it. Fuck, with every ounce of her being all she does is radiate her love for you. You want to step aside so she can be happy? You are her happiness, you buffoon. And the way you feel is the same way Rhys felt when he met me, and Nesta felt when for years she rejected what was between her and Cassian. If you truly believe in her intelligence than you have to acknowledge that if she wants you, it’s because you are just as worthy as everyone else she chooses to love. Nesta is a better for knowing Gwyn. Gwyn is the family Emerie always needed. And in a heartbeat she would give herself to you. Because you deserve all the love this world can offer you.”

“It’s not the same,” he mumbled.

“It is the same! Now say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say you love her. Acknowledge it. Ruminate in it. Then do something about it.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Say it.”

“Feyre.”

“Say it!”

“No.”

“Fucking say it!” She smacked him over the head.

“Fine! I love her. I love her so fucking much it hurts, okay? I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone, more than I thought I was capable of loving.” Azriel stood, placing Nyx down next to Feyre so that he could pace the room. “I don’t know when I started loving her, but I also can’t remember a time when I didn’t. Fuck, she is everything. She is the sun, Feyre. My life starts with her dawn and ends with her setting. I can’t live without her, but I can’t risk eclipsing her.”

Feyre strode to him, grasping him by the shoulders and shaking him. “The sun is still there even during an eclipse, Azriel. Give her the choice, let yourself be happy.” Her hands were hard, but her voice was gentle.

“Repeat after me. I deserve happiness.”

Az rolled his eyes but obliged. “I deserve happiness.”

“I deserve love.”

“I am worthy of a good life.”

“I’m going to be with Gwyn.”

“I’m going to be with Gwyn.” He felt the air rush out of him from the words, felt them settle within him. He swallowed hard, visions of the life they could have together rushing through his mind. From the smirk on Feyre’s face, he knew he was projecting again, but he didn’t care.

Gwyn being next to him every morning. Kissing her freely. Walking the streets of Velaris together. Seeing the joy on his mother’s face when he tells her he found the one. Her moving in, permanently. A wedding. A life. Children with his wings and her hair. Happiness.

He saw it all. He felt it all.

And when she was ready, he would have it all.

***

“Gwyn?”

“Go to sleep.”

“Gwyn.”

“Yes, Az.”

“I found Catrin.”

A pause the length of three of her heartbeats.

“Will you take me to her?”

“Yes.”

***

It had been years since Gwyn had been here. Had tasted the air, felt the ever-present breeze on her face. Somehow, everything was the exact same and yet completely different from the place she had once called home.

The temple had been re-built, but it was no longer available to the public. It instead was a private residence to anyone who had decided to stay after its desolation. Gwyn could have gone in if she wanted, visited the people she’d been raised with and reconvene with those she was familiar with, but even if the building no longer held the scars of Hybern’s attack, she still did. Despite her many positive memories there, ones she would cherish until the end of her days, she felt no desire to step foot in the temple ever again.

And it did not make her weak. It did not mean she wasn’t capable of greatness.

Catrin had been buried in the temple’s graveyard in a section dedicated to those who died in the attack, and whose bodies weren’t claimed. It gave Gwyn a knot in her throat to know she wasn’t here for Catrin afterwards, to find her a place where she could rest. If it had been up to Gwyn, she would have buried Catrin with her mother, or cremated her so they could stay together.

Her eyes burned, and she had to remind herself that Catrin’s violent end would not have stopped her sister from loving Sangravah, from wanting to be here.

Her and Azriel stood alone at her headstone. It read nothing but her name, and there was no one around to disturb them. The air was crisp, colder than Gwyn thought it would be this time of year, and already weeds and dandelions had spread throughout the area. There was no one to maintain the space anymore, and it showed.

“Do you want me to stay?” Azriel asked her, his warm hand holding hers.

“No,” she whispered. “I just want a moment alone with my sister.”

Azriel pressed a kiss to her forehead, giving her hand one last squeeze before stepping away. Gwyn knew he wouldn’t go far.

When he was no longer in sight, she sat down in front of Catrin’s headstone. She ran her fingers down the rough, grey stone, and chuckled when she realised how much Catrin would have despised how basic it was.

Could you not have found me something more opulent, Gwynie? As extravagant as I? she would have said.

“I’ll get you something better, don’t you worry.” Gwyn closed rested her forehead on the grass, imagining Catrin was next to her. When she opened her eyes, she could see her sister there, the familiar smile, the bright eyes, even her webbed hands, sitting across from her where the headstone would be.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to visit.”

Catrin remained silent.

“I miss you, so much. I – I wish you were here. I don’t think things would be so hard if you were here.”

Catrin blinked, a small smile on her face.

“Do you remember how much we wanted to travel when we were younger? You made those maps for us of all the routes we’d take, all the places we’d visit together. I don’t have those maps anymore, but sometimes, at night, I’ll try and recreate them. But I can’t remember the details.”

Gwyn released a shuddering breath. There were so many things she wanted to say, but she didn’t know how to say them.

“I try my best to remember you how you were. I feel so guilty when the only image I can conjure of you-” head separate from her body, a pool of blood larger than any she’d ever seen, Catrin’s lifeless eyes and fearful expression forever imprinted on her face, “-is the one from the end. I didn’t think we’d ever have an end. I thought it would be us, forever, from the moment we were born until we left, together.”

Gwyn saw their life like she was watching strangers perform it – two girls running around the temple, their mother never able to slow them down. The way they clung to each other like twins always do. The dancing, Catrin’s awful singing, the first time Catrin came home with a crush, Gwyn’s first kiss, the secrets they confided with just one another and the memories that were irreplaceable had all happened within eyesight of Catrin’s final resting place. She told Catrin these stories, wanting her sister to know that she hadn’t forgotten, that she would never forget, the life they’d had together. Entwined since conception – this was the only thing that could have separated them.

Gwyn stared at Catrin, the tears pooling in her eyes threatening to spill over. She didn’t want to contain them. She deserved to grieve all that she had lost, it didn’t make her any lesser.

“I’m sorry that I left you alone,” she sobbed, clutching a hand to her heart. “I’m sorry that you’ve been here so long. I wish you could be with me, you’d love what we’d have. A house in the sky and a whole family that we chose for ourselves. We’d be free, Catrin. You would have loved it.”

The tears flowed freely as she told Catrin of all her life had become. Of Nesta and Emerie, of the Valkyrie, how she found the male she’d spend the rest of her life with. She told her sister everything that had happened to her from the moment she’d died until now, as though they were just catching up.

Gwyn was immortal, and she had to come to terms with the fact that she’d live the vast majority of her live without her twin at her side. And with that, Gwyn knew she couldn’t waste a second with those she loved. No more hiding from the city. No more turning down invitations from Emerie or Nesta. No more waiting idly by when Azriel was right there, just standing there existing while she loved him. Gwyn would live her life to the absolute fullest in honour of Catrin, and she would have no regrets in doing so.

She closed her eyes again, uttering her final words of the day and the ones she knew would hurt the most. “I love you, Catrin. I miss you more every day. I’ll never stop thinking about you, about what I life would have been like. But I have to say goodbye.”

She opened her eyes.

And Catrin was gone.

***

Azriel watched Gwyn talk to her sister’s grave from a safe distance. Gwyn spoke to her for what felt like hours until she laid down, gazing up at the sky. He didn’t interrupt her, not wanting to spoil this moment between her and Catrin. Eventually, she sat up, running her fingers over the words Catrin Berdara. When she stood, he finally approached her.

Her eyes were red and face blotchy, and she shivered from either the cold or her grief. He wasted no time in enveloping her in his arms, wrapping his wings around her to block out the outside world.

“Is there anything I can do?” He ran a hand up and down her back, trying to warm her.

She shook her head. “Catrin and I had quite the discussion.”

He kissed the top of her auburn head.

“We decided I should tell you something.”

“Yes?” his voice filled with curiosity over what Gwyn might have concluded after seeing her sister’s grave.

“I’m ready, Az.”

“To go home?”

“No. I’m ready to love you if you’ll let me. I know it might take some time, but Az? As far as I see it, we’re inevitable, and I’m willing to wait as long as you need if it means we’re together.”

His eyes bulged, mouth going slack. Around anyone else, he would never dare show emotion in a vulnerable time, but with her he didn’t want to hide anything.

She was ready to love him?

“I don’t understand-”

“Azriel, you are the most extraordinary person I have ever met. I see you, every part of you, and there is not a single facet that I don’t love. I love your eyes, that see me for who I truly am. I love your hands, that make me feel worthy of happiness. I love your shadows, who feel like a friend. I love your sharp, intelligent, beautiful mind. I love you.”

He couldn’t breathe. This is what he had wished to hear in his wildest dreams, every thought he’d had about her, this fierce, wickedly beautiful fae, reciprocated. He could hear his hammering pulse, feel his blood rush through him, and if they weren’t in a bloody graveyard, he would take her right here like she had asked him to do in that alley.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

She placed her hands on his cheeks, her thumbs caressing him gently. “I love you, Azriel.”

“Once more.”

“Forevermore, Azriel, I love you.”

It started to rain, the small drops igniting on his skin, every single one of his nerve endings on high alert as he looked his future, his glorious, exuberant, happy future in the eyes. “I love you, too, Gwyneth Berdara.”

Her smile was earth shattering, and her lips on his was apocalyptic. As she kissed him, everything else faded from his view. The temple melted away, the grass and trees and landscape fizzled out until there was nothing but her and the sky. There was no history between them, no other had ever touched their bodies, they were just two beings perfectly made for one another.

She was his home.

***

He winnowed them as close to the House as possible, flying them the rest of the way. He never let go of her, and Gwyn would have rebelled if he had even tried.

This was it. This was their end and beginning. Their before was officially over, and they were propelled into the now. Now their life began, now they could be together.

Gwyn didn’t take notice as to whether anyone else was in the House, her focus solely on Azriel. The way his hair moved as he rushed to his room, the molten look in his eyes and the focus on his face as he near ran to his room, his arms never wavering in their strength. When he did have to stop kissing her, she took the opportunity to press her lips to whatever skin she could find. The cheek, neck, that one little spot behind his ear that he loved.

He slammed his door behind them before pressing her into it, her legs wrapped around his hips and his hands under her thighs.

“I love you,” she moaned.

“I love you I love you I love you,” he whispered to her, his hand sneaking up her dress. “Then, now, always and forever. I love you, Gwyn.”

“Azriel, I – I need-”

“Tell me what you want, anything I have is yours.”

Her breath shuddered. “I want to taste you. I need my mouth on you.”

He nodded, bringing them to the bed. Just like that very first night, he held her in his lap, his arms around her and supporting her body. She pushed him back, forcing him to lie down so she could be atop him. She never broke their kiss, never stopped her hands from roaming over his body. His hands, his beautiful hands, cupped her ass firmly, keeping her steady. As much as she loved this feeling, she wanted more of him.

She leant back so she could pull her dress over her head. She was wearing a coat, at some point, and had dumped it, at another unknown point. She had also kicked her shoes off, and Cauldron knew what part of the House they were scattered in. She was left in a bra and panties, a basic white pair that should have held no appeal at all, and yet he looked at her with such adoration that she nearly came just from his gaze.

Once again, she caught his lips in hers, sweeping her tongue into his mouth. His moan reverberated through her body, and she shimmied down until she was on her knees and faced with the button on his pants.

His arousal was clear, and she could feel how wet she was just from the knowledge that she did that to him – that he wanted her that much.

Azriel shifted, just to pull his shirt over his head, exposing his glorious chest to her. She wanted to trace each line of his tattoos with her tongue, but that could wait. Right now, she needed to taste him. She popped open the button, manoeuvring his cock so it was free. She could never fit the whole thing in her mouth as much as she tried, but that’s why she had been blessed with hands.

She pressed a gentle kiss to the head, Azriel’s hands tangling themselves in her hair and pulling just enough so that she knew how this affected him. One lick, from the base to the head, her tongue dragging across the sensitive skin, had him whispering her name reverently.

She engulfed him in her mouth, sucking and licking in a way she knew would make him feral for her, her hand wrapping around the rest of him, following the pattern she had made for herself. She left no part of him untouched, working to make him unravel before her.

His deep moans signalled how close he was, and it only spurred her to take him further, her eyes watering as he hit the back of her throat. She loved it, loved him, and she couldn’t wait to be consumed by him.

“I’m – I’m nearly there,” he warned her.

She sucked harder, her hands working the rest of him, leaving no inch of his cock untouched.

His whole body shook with release as he threw his head back, practically yelling her name. She swallowed every ounce he offered her before leaning back.

He pulled her up so she was lying atop him, his mouth capturing hers in a furious kiss. Usually, she could lie like this for hours, satisfied with his tongue lightly stroking hers, but she’d waited so long to have him, and she couldn’t bear to live another minute without knowing how he felt inside her.

“Az?”

“Gwyneth.”

“Now, please.”

He chuckled lightly. “My love, you’ll have to wait a few minutes after a performance like that. But I have an idea on how we can fill the time.”

He repositioned them. In her haste to taste him, they were still perched on the edge of his bed. He led them to the middle, pulling off his pants so he was fully naked before her. She could already see the beginnings of his next erection, but she would let him fill their time anyway. Anything he wanted he could have. All that she was, and would ever be, would always belong to him.

He rolled them so she was on top of him again, but instead of kissing her like he had before, he dragged her thighs up so she was straddling his abdomen.

“Keep coming,” he urged, his smile sly, his hands still pulling her forward.

Once she realised what he was doing, she was more than a willing participant. She moved so that her thighs were either side of his head, his mouth in line with her dripping core.

“Do you care about these?” He pulled on her underwear, letting it snap back into place.

“Not particularly.”

“Good.” He ripped them off her, flinging them to the side.

She gasped at the action, the possessiveness such a small movement implied, and it made her clit throb. Everything he did made her want to roll her hips in ecstasy, and as she held herself above him she wondered if his bedframe was sturdy enough for what they had in store for each other.

“Sit,” he ordered. “I don’t understand why you always try to hover.”

“I don’t want to suffocate you,” she laughed.

“Hmm, but at least I would die a very, very happy male.”

Wrapping his hands around the tops of her thighs, he yanked her hips down. She stuttered at the sudden contact, a strangled gasp escaping her as he licked up her wet centre, his moan making her clench her thighs together.

She felt like she was being devoured, he always knew exactly which points to hit and with the perfect pressure, and within moments she was grinding down on his face, pressing her own into the wall as her body contorted from the pleasure.

“Fuck, Az, don’t stop,” she moaned, loud enough that she hoped Cassian and Nesta weren’t home, knowing surely they would hear her screams.

He heeded her words, worshipping her with his tongue, every stroke a way for them to make up for lost time. She pressed her face into the cool wall and braced her hands on his bedframe, the feeling of his mouth on her almost too much to bear. She could feel her orgasm welling inside her, pressure clanging through her body as the intense feeling built. She could barely breathe as she climaxed, his tongue flicking and licking her clit until she was shaking above him, moaning his name like it was the only word she knew.

She collapsed next to him when he was done, tucking herself into his side. She was covered with sweat, and barely noticed when he, with just one hand, undid the clasp on her bra and slid it off her body.

He pressed kisses to her forehead, cheek, neck, before burying his head in her chest and taking a nipple in his mouth.

“Azriel,” she whispered, smoothing back his hair.

He hummed in response, gently biting on her left nipple. It made her arch her back in response, and she only saw it fitting to caress the one spot on his wing that she knew drove him crazy.

“What do you want?” he murmured to her.

“You know what I want.”

“Tell me, I want to hear you say it.”

She tilted his chin up with her thumb so he was looking at her. His face was serene, the storms in his eyes finally calm, his lips parted slightly.

It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen, and a smile overcame her when she realised that this, that he, was what she would be seeing for the rest of her life. No more restlessness or yearning, no more envy or pain, she had what people spent an existence trying to find.

“I… I want everything, Azriel. I want today, I want a lifetime.”

“Stay here, live here.” He lifted himself over her, pressing their bodies together and leaning on his forearms so his entire body weight wasn’t on her. “I’ve wasted so much time, let’s not waste anymore.”

“Az-”

“Gwyn, I-” he cleared his throat, his eyes shining. “Before we continue, take that last step, I need you to know how sorry I am. The way I’ve hurt you and the way I’ve driven you away are things I’ll regret for the rest of my life.”

“Azriel,” she said softly, wrapping her legs around him.

“I promise you, never again. I’m all in. You’re the one, Gwyn. You’re the love I never thought I’d have, the love I didn’t think was real until Rhys and Cassian found it. I swear my devotion will be unending, and by the Cauldron, you will be happy with me Gwyn. I’ve never been so sure of something in my life. I am so, so sorry that it took me so long to realise.”

She rested her forehead on his, closing her eyes. “I love you.”

“I think – I think for someone like you to love me, that I must be a better person than I thought I was.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll tell Clotho that I won’t be living in the library anymore.”

A single tear fell from Azriel, falling onto Gwyn’s cheek. He kissed it away, pressing them closer together. She could feel his length pressing into her stomach, and one hip movement from her would have him sliding over the still sensitive bundle of nerves he’d just marked as his own, but she didn’t want to interrupt this moment.

She bumped her nose to his, and he returned it with a kiss. “You’ll live here with me?”

“On one condition.”

“Anything,” he promised.

“Do you know the room, two floors down, that overlooks Velaris? With walls of windows?”

Azriel had once explained to her that during the House’s conception, it was a dignitary’s suite. It was nearly self-sufficient on its own, only lacking a kitchen. It was where Rhys had taken Feyre after he’d first taken her from the Spring Court.

“I want us to live there. I love that we began here, in this room, but we need something bigger, that we can fit a family in.”

“A family?”

She nodded, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “In the future. Distant future. Is that something you want?”

The way he looked at her took her breath away – like she was who strung the cords of the earth together, like she set the sun and hung the stars. He looked at her like they were immortal but she was infinity.

“That is something I want. I want everything with you.”

“I’ll talk to Nesta, we’ll have it all arranged.”

“You don’t need to talk to her. We have a sentient House, we could move now if we wanted. She’ll say yes, I have no doubt-”

She interrupted him by finally lifting her hips, moving herself against him, telling him without words what she needed, what it was time for. They need not talk any longer, any specifics could be figured out another day. Right now was just for the two of them.

He kissed her again, the all-consuming, all-encompassing kind that left her hot and breathless.

He didn’t break their eye contact as he moved his hand between them to angle himself into her.

“You’re sure this is okay?” he asked gently.

She nodded, caressing his face with her hands. She once expected to feel nervous or scared for a moment like this, but all she felt was love and joy. She felt safe. There was not a single inch of her that wasn’t ready for him.

He whispered a warning that made her laugh lightly, “I’m bigger than most, we’ll have to go slow,” but she wasn’t worried. Her body was made for his. And, when the timing was right, she would show him exactly how far that sentiment stretched. After all, the wraith in her meant her flexibility was unparalleled, and she was excited for him to take full advantage.

She squirmed slightly as he pushed himself into her. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, it was just starkly new. Azriel and her had dabbled many a times in self-pleasure, and there had been circumstances where instruments were used to increase hers, but it was different now. It wasn’t just some object. It was the male she loved, moving their bodies together to bring them both to the edge.

There was also the fact that her, Nesta and Emerie had snuck away to a very scandalous store and bought items that Gwyn used nightly not just to relieve herself, but to prepare for the sheer size of him. Two birds one stone.

“You okay?”

“Deeper, Az.”

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck yes.”

Every inch of him set her alight, the fullness making her feel a sense of completeness. He kissed her as he thrusted further, and when he was in to the hilt, she sighed happily. She took a second to adjust herself, adoring the way she felt around him. She ran her hands down his back, feathering across his wings before landing on his glorious ass. She squeezed, urging him to move.

“You’re ready?”

In response, she moved her hips to his, making him move ever so slightly. The way he moaned was better than any symphony Gwyn had ever heard.

And then he moved. And by the Cauldron, did he move.

Azriel was a humble man, and he had not exaggerated his size. Every movement had her stretching deliciously, his body so close to hers and angled just right so that his pelvis dragged across her clit with each thrust.

As he thrusted, her words nothing but pleasured, indiscernible syllables, his shadows danced around them, twining in and out of the crevices between their bodies, growing in size. Soon, they filled the room, vibrating as they responded to the energy Az and Gwyn were creating, and it was as though they were the only ones to exist. It was like making love in the night sky, unencumbered by the threat of gravity. Gwyn loved his shadows. They had always drawn her in, been a personable extension of him, and how could she not love any part of Azriel?

With every thrust, she felt a pressure unlike anything else growing in her. He kept hitting this one spot so perfectly that with each movement of his hips she would cry out. He kept mumbling her name, like she was undoing him each time her hips met his.

“Fuck, I love you,” he managed to cry, the words barely more than a grunt.

She responded only with a groan, her hands running down his back, her nails leaving red paths in their wake.

The pressure inside her grew, but it went beyond where they connected. It was like each of her cells were threads, reaching out and binding to themselves to him. Her heart, already so full, felt like it was about to implode. It was like she could feel him, feel his soul, tying itself to her irrevocably.

Her impending orgasm would probably be the best of her fucking life if this were anything to go by.

Her hands moved up his back until they landed on either side of his face. Whenever her eyes weren’t fluttering back uncontrollably from the pleasure, they were looking into his. She caressed his cheeks, breathing him in.

“You’re so beautiful,” she told him. “Your hands.” She reached for where they rested above her head, supporting Azriel’s weight. She intertwined their fingers before kissing him again. “They’re my favourite part of you.”

“That’s your favourite part?” He punctuated his words with another thrust, and she was close, so so so close, and she knew he was too.

“Second favourite part,” she choked.

She was whimpering his name at this point, drunk on the endorphins spiralling through her body. That feeling was climbing to a near unbearable point.

And then it hit her.

As she fell over that edge, tumbling into an abyss she didn’t know possible, Azriel falling alongside her, her name a prayer on his lips, it hit her.

As he looked at her, his eyes widening as those threads linked evermore, she knew he felt it too, that he knew the truth as irrefutably as she did.

Azriel’s shadows exploded around them. His windows shattered, blown away by the force of what Azriel was feeling. The bed shook, splintering beneath them, paintings fell from the walls, and Azriel wrapped her into his arms as he released into her.

“Azriel-”

“You’re my mate,” he gasped.

“You’re my mate,” she confirmed, unable to help the tears that fell from her eyes. This feeling, this knowing, was overwhelming.

This was it. Their lives started now.

***

A/N: Following this at some point will be a fluffy epilogue!

#gwynriel #Azriel #acotar #acosf #acomaf #acowar #acosaf #nessian #emorie #fanfic

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