scrollsofvelaris

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 33

The room was breathtaking, spacious, and airy, with warm golden lighting and silken curtains that drifted like a sigh in the breeze. A massive bed sat in the center, its light blue blankets trimmed in silver. On the opposite side, a plush couch curved near a fireplace.

Azriel stood beside me, surveying the room. “I’ll take the couch if you want,” he said quietly. “And no, I won’t go room with Cassian. I let you get hurt once. Never again. You’re not leaving my sight.”

There was a stubborn edge in his voice, protective, guilt-ridden.

I sighed. “That wasn’t your fault, Azriel.”

His shadows curled gently around my legs, as if trying to soothe me in his place.

“We can share the bed,” I said after a beat. “There’s no way your wings will fit comfortably on that couch, but you better stay on your side.”

A slow, infuriating smirk spread across his face. “I’ll do my best.”

I rolled my eyes and turned to my bag, rifling through the dresses I had packed for the trip. I held up two, one soft lilac, the other a pale blush pink, both in the style of the Dawn Court. I stood before the mirror, trying to decide.

Azriel’s presence was silent, but electric. He stepped behind me, his hands not touching me yet, but I could feel the heat of them. Then he leaned in close, his breath brushing my ear.

“Wear the pink one.”

I arched a brow at him in the mirror, but before I could say a word, his hand ghosted over the curve of my hip, a light squeeze, and he vanished into the bathroom.

My skin tingled where he touched me.

Of course, I wore the pink dress.

It was a bit more fitted than I usually liked. I’d always been self-conscious about my body, about the softness of my stomach, the generous curve of my thighs. But Azriel… he had looked at me like I was art. And when I stepped out to meet him, dressed and ready, his shadows paused, curling around me in appreciation.

Azriel, naturally, wore black. Always black. But his siphons gleamed like polished sapphire, and they shimmered when we strolled arm in arm through the quiet halls and out into the serene courtyard.

The sun was setting, casting golden light over the marble paths. His wing brushed my shoulder every now and then as we walked, and each time, my heart stuttered.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Only Thesan, Helion, Tarquin, Kallias, and Rhysand attended. The rest of the High Lords kept to themselves. I hadn’t expected anyone to notice me, but they asked questions, kind ones. Curious, not cruel. About who I was. Where I was from. How I’d come to the Night Court.

I told the truth. As much as I could, anyway.

Afterward, as Azriel and I walked back to our room, a prickling sensation danced along my spine, like something watching, something present.

I froze. “Azriel… something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

His shadows shifted instantly, swirling defensively around us. Without hesitation, he led me straight to Rhys and Feyre. Cassian and Azriel searched the area top to bottom. They found nothing.

“Maybe I’m just tired,” I murmured. “It’s been a long day.”

Back in our room, I slipped into the bath, trying to let the heat melt away the strange unease. I chose a soft nightdress, something simple, flowing, nothing that clung too tightly.

Azriel was already in bed when I came out. Shirtless. Of course.

I paused in the doorway, heart fluttering. The lamp beside the bed cast a soft glow over his chest, golden light warming the scarred skin. He looked up from the book he’d been pretending to read.

“Goodnight, my love,” he said softly, his voice like velvet.

I swallowed. “Goodnight.”

I climbed in beside him and fell asleep faster than I expected.

I woke in the early morning, cocooned in warmth.

It was dark. I blinked, trying to adjust, but something hard was pressed against my back. A heavy arm wrapped tightly around my waist, a powerful chest rising and falling behind me. I tried to turn over and the arm tightened.

A low groan rumbled against my spine. “Stop moving, darling,” Azriel’s voice rasped, still heavy with sleep. “Or I won’t be able to control myself much longer.”

Oh!

My eyes flew open. My entire body flushed hot. “Oh,” I said again, dumbly. “Sorry, I just wanted to turn around.”

He let out a breath and loosened his hold just enough for me to shift. I rolled over to face him. His eyes, still dark and sleepy, roamed my face before pulling me back into his embrace. His wing curved around us, tucking me in close. Our legs tangled together naturally, instinctively.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

“Good morning,” I echoed.

“So much for staying on your side of the bed,” I teased.

His mouth curved. “You don’t seem to mind.”

I smiled, pushing a loose curl from his forehead. “Relaxed is a good look on you.”

His smile faltered slightly. “I’m most definitely not relaxed. Not with my perfect mate pressed against me. My self-control is slipping.”

My breath caught. The way he looked at me, it was fire. Pure, reverent fire.

He leaned closer, his face just inches from mine. I could feel the heat of his breath. My heart thundered. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to drown in him.

But then…

“Azriel…” I whispered, my brow furrowing. “I… I don’t feel so good.”

The ground trembled beneath us and then everything went black.

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 32

Azriel had finally apologized to Cassian, though I think it took every ounce of pride-swallowing the Shadowsinger possessed. Rhysand, ever the diplomat, had called for a High Lords meeting in two weeks' time, and in the meantime, Feyre decided she wanted to learn to fly.

I was still learning how to use a sword or, more accurately, trying. Azriel had joined Cassian in training me, but if I was being honest, Azriel wasn’t exactly helping. Not really. He was more of a distraction than anything else. Especially when he came up behind me to “adjust my grip.” His strong hands would wrap around mine, his chest brushing my back, his voice low in my ear as he murmured instructions. I barely registered what he was saying when he was that close. All I could feel was him. His warmth. His scent. The sheer presence of him. And every time his hand lingered just a second too long at my waist or his fingers grazed the soft curve of my hip, my heart would hammer and I’d become painfully aware of the body I tried so hard to hide.

I wasn’t built like Feyre or Mor. I wasn’t slim or tall or graceful. I was soft, curvy, round in all the ways that made me doubt whether a male like Azriel, beautiful, powerful, revered, could truly want someone like me. And yet, every time his shadows curled around me possessively, every time his gaze darkened while I trained, I believed it.

He made me feel wanted. And that was more dangerous than any sword.

When he wasn’t driving me to distraction, Azriel was also helping Feyre with her flying lessons. Since he hadn’t learned to fly until later in life, he had the patience to teach her. Their first lesson ended with Feyre flying straight into a tree and Cassian nearly choking from laughter. Even Azriel cracked a smile.

The next two weeks flew by. Rhys reached out to the Court of Nightmares for support, something that made my skin crawl, and Feyre took a trip to visit the Bone Carver. Whatever she saw there had shaken her, but she didn’t share it with us.

We also discovered something terrifying: the wall separating the mortal and fae realms was weakening. It hadn’t been built to last.

And then the day of the High Lords meeting arrived.

We traveled to the Dawn Court, and it was breathtaking, glittering waters, white stone, sunlight so pure it made the air feel golden. I wore a gown of deep sapphire blue, flowing and elegant, the color a perfect match to the glimmering siphons on Azriel’s hands. He had stared at me for a long moment when I emerged from our rooms, his expression unreadable, until his shadows curled low around my legs, as if they too wanted to touch me.

The meeting started cordially enough. Tensions were high, but no one was shouting, yet. Until Tamlin opened his mouth.

He smirked, taunting Rhys with pointed comments about his time with Feyre, clearly trying to provoke him. His words turned vulgar fast, intimate, crude, and unworthy of any court, let alone a High Lord’s.

My jaw clenched, but before anyone else could respond, Azriel’s voice sliced through the room like a blade.

“Watch how you speak about my High Lady.”

His tone was low, cold, and lethal, and it sent shivers down my spine. That voice... it was full of danger, full of command. Full of power. And yet, it thrilled me in a way I couldn’t begin to explain. My heart pounded against my ribs, heat coiling low in my stomach.

But then Eris, the arrogant son of the High Lord of Autumn, had to ruin everything.

He let his gaze slide over me, smug and smugger still, before saying, “That one looks like she was built to give heirs. Bet she’d breed strong ones.”

The entire room froze.

Azriel didn’t.

He moved faster than anyone could react, crossing the space between them in a blur of shadows and rage. His fists landed on Eris with devastating precision, each punch fueled by pure fury. I could hear bones cracking.

“Azriel,” I called gently, walking toward him. I touched his shoulder, the muscles beneath his leathers tight and trembling.

“It’s fine. Don’t kill him,” I said softly, aware that every eye in the room was on us. “I think he’s learned his lesson.”

Azriel let go after one final punch, one that sent Eris crumpling to the floor.

He straightened slowly, shadows still writhing around him like smoke. His voice was deadly quiet as he said, “Don’t you ever speak about or look at my mate again.”

Mate.

The word rang through me like thunder.

He said it in front of everyone, claimed me in front of every High Lord, their entourages, the entire realm.

My heart fluttered with something warm and dangerous and giddy.

We returned to our place behind Rhys and Feyre, who barely acknowledged the interruption beyond an arched brow. But the meeting was effectively over after that.

Azriel offered a tense apology to Rhys, and we were led to our rooms for the night.

Azriel and I… were led to the same room.

Of course.

I said nothing as the door closed behind us, my heart hammering in my chest.

Great.

Except, as I looked at him, blood still drying on his knuckles, shadows curling protectively around his back, I didn’t feel angry. I felt something else entirely. Desire. Awe. Fear of how much I was starting to need him. Want him.

I wasn’t sure how the night would unfold. But I knew one thing for certain.

This male was mine. And I was his.

No matter how big I was. No matter how much I still struggled to believe it. He made me feel like I was worth fighting for.

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 31

I sat curled up on the couch, a book open in my lap, but I wasn’t reading it. Not really. The words blurred together, my eyes darting across the page while my mind fumed elsewhere.

That male is absolutely infuriating.

Azriel had been gone for three weeks. Three long weeks where I missed him more than I wanted to admit. And instead of being happy to be home, he launched himself into a full-blown jealous brawl with Cassian, his brother, because of a hug. A celebratory hug, no less.

Outside, I could still hear the dull thud of fists and the occasional grunt.

I gritted my teeth. “Idiots. All of them.”

Feyre stepped into the room and plopped down beside me, eyebrows raised. “What’s going on out there?”

I didn’t even look at her. “Stupid Azriel comes home from a dangerous mission, sees his brother hugging me, hugging, Feyre, and loses his mind. He’s outside right now, beating him up and down the yard in some kind of primal, possessive tantrum.”

Feyre blinked and then started laughing.

“What?” I demanded.

“Nothing,” she said, still smiling. “It’s just… Rhys was the same way for a while. With other males, I mean.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How long did that last?”

She shrugged. “I’ll let you know.”

I groaned and buried my face in my hands.

A moment later, the door creaked open, and in walked Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel, looking thoroughly disheveled. Both warriors were scratched, bruised, and out of breath. Cassian’s shirt was half-torn, and Azriel’s hair was sticking out in wild waves. Shadows still curled around him like they were ready to pick another fight.

I stood slowly, leveling Azriel with a look. “I need to speak to my husband. In private.”

They wisely cleared the room.

As soon as the door shut behind them, I rounded on him. “What in the Mother’s name were you thinking?”

He didn’t respond just stood there, chest rising and falling, jaw clenched.

“You attacked your brother, Azriel. Cassian! The one who nearly died a few weeks ago trying to help me. The one who’s been helping me train. And for what? A hug?”

His eyes darkened, shadows flaring slightly. “He had his hands on you.”

“And I had mine on him. We were celebrating.” My voice cracked slightly despite my effort to stay calm. “I would never entertain the thought of another male.”

He moved suddenly, crossing the room in two long strides, and then his hands were in my hair, his mouth on mine.

The kiss was like nothing I’d ever felt. Hot. Fierce. Possessive. His hand gripped my waist, fingers digging in just above my hip, and the other cradled my face with surprising tenderness. I melted before I could think to stop him, every inch of me igniting under his touch.

It wasn’t fair. How he knew exactly how to kiss me. How my body responded to him without hesitation. It made me feel weak, and strong, all at once.

When he finally pulled back, breathless, he leaned his forehead against mine.

“Hello, wife,” he murmured, voice husky.

The words stirred something deep inside me, but I wasn’t done being angry.

So I slapped him.

Not hard enough to hurt him, probably not even enough for him to feel it, but enough to make my point.

“Don’t ‘hello wife’ me like that makes everything okay,” I snapped. “You can’t just come in here, punch your brother, kiss me senseless, and expect it all to magically disappear.”

His lips twitched, that smirk of his surfacing.

“I’m sorry,” he said, though the smile in his eyes betrayed the sincerity. “My instincts got the better of me. I came home, saw another male with his arms around you, and I saw red.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Did you apologize to Cassian?”

“…Not yet.”

“You’re unbelievable.” I groaned, turning away from him.

“I know,” he said, voice lower now. He was looking at me with some primal look in his eyes.

“What?” I said.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said. His voice lower and husky. “Even more so when you’re angry.”

I froze.

My heart stuttered. Heat rushed up my neck.

Slowly, I turned back to him. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re mine.”

“Ugh!” I threw my hands in the air and stomped away, grabbing my book off the table.

He laughed behind me, an actual laugh, deep and low and annoyingly attractive.

I slammed my bedroom door behind me, pressing my back to the wood, heart racing.

That male was going to be the death of me. And the worst part?

I didn’t mind one bit.

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 30

Jealousy

A week later, Azriel was fully healed and back to his usual brooding, beautiful self. Cassian, though still mending, was improving by the day. His wings had been shredded in the battle, and while they were healing, he had a long road ahead of him.

Rhysand decided it was time to send Azriel on a reconnaissance mission a weeks-long assignment that would take him far from Velaris. I didn’t let him see how much that bothered me. Not entirely.

When the morning of his departure came, I walked him to the edge of the cliffs. The sky was still streaked with early sunlight, the wind crisp as it tugged at his dark wings.

“Be careful,” I said softly, reaching up to smooth a curl from his forehead.

His hand cupped my face, warm and sure. “I will. And I’ll miss you every day.”

I nodded, forcing a smile.

Then he was gone just a blur of shadows and wind in my heart.

In Azriel’s absence, I kept myself busy. Or at least, I tried.

Cassian’s wings needed regular exercise to rebuild their strength, and I volunteered, insisted, really, on helping him. Every day, I joined him, watching as he pushed himself harder and farther. At first, he couldn’t fly more than a few hundred feet before wincing in pain. But slowly, flight by flight, he was making progress.

Sometimes Rhysand would join us for the sessions. Most of the time, though, it was just me and Cassian, bickering, laughing, and grumbling through every flap and stumble.

“I think my wings hate me,” he muttered one day after nearly crashing into a tree.

“I think they’re just mad you never stretch properly,” I replied, tossing him a towel.

He groaned and flopped onto the grass, wings splayed like a dramatic bird of prey. “You’re a menace.”

“And you’re a baby,” I said sweetly, sitting beside him.

Despite the teasing, I’d come to really enjoy our time together. Cassian was like a very loud, very muscled older brother. He took to the role naturally, pushing me, training me, annoying me.

When we weren’t working on his wings, we were in the training ring. Cassian had insisted I start learning how to properly defend myself. With a sword.

It was going about as well as you’d expect.

“You have to stop flinching every time you swing,” he said for the hundredth time, blocking my hesitant strike.

“I don’t flinch,” I protested.

“You flinch like the sword’s going to bite you.”

I glared. “Maybe it will.”

He grinned, sweat dripping down his forehead. “Let’s try again.”

And again. And again.

By the end of three weeks, I was sore in places I didn’t know I had, but, I also felt stronger. More capable. And, somewhere deep down, a little more confident.

But I missed Azriel.

I missed the sound of his voice in the quiet moments. The way he always knew where I was, even when I didn’t want to be found. I missed the gentle weight of his shadows curling around me. The dreams weren’t the same without him in the city.

So when Cassian finally managed to fly a long distance and land without stumbling, I practically burst with joy.

“You did it!” I cried, clapping my hands and beaming.

He laughed, grinning with pride, then did something wildly Cassian, he picked me up and spun me in a circle like I weighed nothing, both of us laughing.

That’s when we heard it.

A thud. And a growl.

A low, deadly, utterly terrifying growl.

“Put my mate down, Cassian.”

Cassian froze. I froze. Slowly, he lowered me back to the ground.

“Azriel,” he said carefully, turning around with his hands raised, “I was just hugging her. We were celebrating. No big deal. We’ve hugged before.”

“I was there when you hugged her before. You weren’t trying to pretend I wasn’t around.”

“Azriel,” I said quickly, stepping between them, “he didn’t do anything wrong. We were just—”

Too late.

Azriel’s fist connected with Cassian’s jaw, and suddenly the two of them were brawling like wild animals, grunting, growling, throwing punches that made the ground tremble.

“Rhysand!” I shouted toward the house, exasperated. “Your dogs are fighting again!”

Rhys appeared on the balcony, sipped his wine, and said without a hint of concern, “Might as well let them finish it.”

I stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“Let Az get it out of his system..”

With a groan, I turned on my heel and stalked into the house. If they wanted to act like overgrown children, they could knock each other out without my help.

I had a book waiting for me.

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wing of Shadow: Chapter 30

Afraid

Azriel had taken a poison arrow to the chest.

Cassian’s wings had been pierced by multiple arrows, shredded in places. The sight of both of them bleeding, broken, will haunt me.

As soon as we returned to Velaris, Rhysand called for the healers. They rushed in immediately, working over Azriel and Cassian with a quiet urgency that only made my anxiety worse.

I wanted to be with Azriel. Desperately. But they wouldn’t let anyone in yet, not until he was stabilized. So I sat beside Rhysand, my clothes still soaked from the Cauldron, my heart in pieces.

Feyre was somewhere with Amren and Mor. I hadn’t asked where. I didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to think.

Rhys flicked his hand, and just like that, I was dry. I blinked down at my now-warm clothes and managed a small, grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

He nodded once. “Of course.”

“They’re going to be okay, right?” My voice cracked despite my best efforts.

“Yes,” Rhys said softly. “They’re in good hands. Azriel should be fully recovered in a day or two. The poison wasn’t too deep. Cassian…” His jaw tightened. “His wings will take longer. The damage is… severe. But we’re hopeful they can be mended.”

I swallowed hard, chest aching.

“I’m related to him,” I murmured after a long pause, staring down at my hands. “The King of Hybern.”

“I know,” Rhys said quietly. “But you’re not like him.”

I hesitated. “That’s what the Cauldron said.”

His head turned sharply. “It spoke to you?”

I nodded. “Yes. It told me I wasn’t a mongrel. That I was born of the bond, and that made me… beautiful.” My voice faltered, because part of me still didn’t believe it. “It said I had power. Power to defeat the King of Hybern. And it gave me a gift for me and my mate. Not sure what that is yet.”

Rhys was silent for a beat, then leaned forward slightly. “Do you think you have power?”

I hesitated. “I don’t know.”

He studied me, something thoughtful and ancient flickering in his violet eyes.

“I can feel it,” he said at last. “There’s something inside you. I don’t know what it is yet, but when it manifests, you won’t be alone. We’ll help you. All of us.”

I didn’t realize I was crying until he reached over and brushed away a tear.

“You’re not him,” Rhys repeated gently. “Whatever his blood gave you, it’s yours now. You choose what to do with it.”

Before I could respond, one of the healers emerged.

“You may see him now,” she said. “Azriel is stable. He’ll be fine once he wakes. Cassian is still being worked on, but he should be fine as well.”

Relief nearly brought me to my knees.

Rhysand and I stood and walked together in silence, our steps echoing through the quiet halls until we reached Azriel’s room.

He lay on the bed, still and pale, but breathing. The bandages around his chest were clean, the worst of the poison already drawn out. Shadows still clung to him, flickering softly as if they were guarding him in sleep.

I sat down beside him, reaching out to take his hand in mine.

“I’m here,” I whispered. “You’re going to be okay.”

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 29

The Cauldron

They dragged me across the cold stone floor, their hands like iron shackles around my arms. I thrashed, kicked, but it was no use. I was hauled forward until we stopped before a vast, blackened pool of water that shimmered with unnatural power.

The Cauldron.

The moment I saw it, something deep in my bones recoiled. It radiated wrongness, ancient, dangerous magic that hummed through the air like a curse waiting to be spoken.

The King of Hybern stood beside it, smiling with that same cruel delight.

“Your precious mortal queens want proof,” he said, voice slick with malice. “Proof that a human can survive the Cauldron. That they can become like the fae, immortal. You might not be the best subject for the test, but you’ll do.”

I glared at him, my voice trembling with rage. “You’re disgusting.”

His smile didn’t falter.

Then they threw me in.

I didn’t scream, there wasn’t time. One moment I was standing, the next I was falling, tumbling into an abyss of water and power and silence.

It wasn’t cold.

It wasn’t hot.

It was… weightless.

I floated, suspended in a void that felt endless. And then something spoke.

“Hello, young one.”

The voice was soft. Feminine. Echoing all around me like the wind itself had found words.

“Are you… the Cauldron?” I asked, my own voice barely a whisper.

“Yes,” she replied. “And you are not a mongrel. A product of the mating bond is a sacred, beautiful thing.”

“You have great power,” the Cauldron said. “Power that can destroy the King of Hybern.”

I opened my mouth to ask her what she meant, what power? I was just me. But she didn’t give me the chance.

“I will not make you immortal today,” she continued. “You will become that once you complete the bond with your mate.”

I remembered reading about that. Hidden deep in an old book Azriel had quietly handed me one night. If a human and fae completed the mating bond, fully and willingly, the human could become immortal. Not fae, but something else. Something enduring.

“I will give you a gift,” the Cauldron whispered. “A gift for you and your mate.”

Suddenly, I felt something shift inside me. A quiet, rippling transformation. There was a pinch of pain, then a sudden release. I didn’t know what had changed, only that something had.

And then, I was expelled.

Thrown from the Cauldron’s depths, my body crashing hard onto the cold stone floor.

Gasping.

Shaking.

Alive.

I blinked up at the misty sky, disoriented, as chaos erupted around me.

Voices. Feyre’s voice in my mind, “Aurora! The spell is broken. Hold on, we’re coming for you!”

And then we were gone.

Winnowed away in a rush of wind and shadows.

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 28

Hybern

The island of Hybern was cloaked in mist, the kind that clung to your skin and made the cold seep deep into your bones. A chill hung in the air, sharp and wrong, as if the land itself was holding its breath.

We had a plan.

Feyre was to go in alone. The rest of us were meant to wait, just outside the castle’s perimeter, hidden in the shadows.

Simple. Clean. Controlled.

But nothing went according to plan.

The moment our boots hit the rocky ground, I felt it.

Something in the air shifted. Like static, like a whisper brushing against the nape of my neck. A feeling of being watched. Hunted. I turned, searching the mist, but no one else seemed to notice.

I stepped closer to Azriel. His shadows curled protectively around me, but even they seemed restless, agitated.

Feyre was nearly to the entrance when it happened.

Everything, everyone, froze.

Rhys. Cassian. Mor. Even Feyre, mid-step, her eyes wide with confusion.

Only I could move.

My heart pounded, a cold sweat blooming across my back.

“What the…” I whispered.

A slow, slithering voice echoed through the mist.

“Well, well… what do we have here?”

He appeared like a nightmare from the fog.

Tall and skeletal-thin, with greasy brown hair clinging to his hollow face and eyes as black as a starless void. The King of Hybern.

And he was looking straight at me. From my place half-hidden behind Azriel, I felt his stare crawl across my skin.

“Come on out, dear niece.”

I froze.

Niece?

Was he talking to me?

Azriel tried to step forward, but whatever spell held him bound kept him frozen in place. His jaw clenched, eyes burning with helpless fury.

“I said come out,” the King repeated, voice like oil slicked over a blade.

Trembling, I stepped out from behind Azriel, forcing my chin high even as my hands shook.

The King smiled, a cruel, serpentine twist of lips.

“Ahh. There you are. Too much of your mother in you. But you have my brother’s nose. The fool.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snapped.

He tsked. “Didn’t you wonder why the magic didn’t touch you? Why my spell didn’t freeze you like the others? Bloodlines, girl. You, mongrel, are of my bloodline.”

“No,” I whispered.

“My brother found his mate in a human slave,” he continued, circling slowly like a vulture. “She got pregnant. He helped her escape before anyone could know. Fool thought he could run from me. I killed him for his betrayal. Then I captured your mother. Brought her back here. She claimed you died in childbirth. Even under torture, she didn’t break.”

I was shaking. Every word felt like a knife.

“I believed her,” he said, voice sharp with bitterness. “I killed her for wasting my time. But it turns out she lied. She kept you hidden. And now here you are.”

“You’re lying,” I said again, louder this time. “I’m not one of you. I can’t be.”

His smile widened. “Oh, but you are.”

He raised a hand.

“Grab her.”

Two soldiers appeared from the mist, seizing me before I could scream. I fought, gods, I fought, but I couldn’t break free.

“Don’t touch her!” Azriel roared, breaking through the spell just as an arrow slammed into his shoulder.

He staggered.

“Faebane,” he gasped.

Another arrow tore through the air, this one catching Cassian’s wing. He fell to his knees with a cry of pain, blood darkening his leathers as more arrows struck.

“Azriel!” I screamed, struggling against the guards’ grip as panic surged through me. “Let me go!”

But the King only laughed.

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 27

Attack

The days that followed were surprisingly…normal. Azriel and I began to spend more time together. Long walks through Velaris, lunches at sunlit cafés tucked between alleys, dinners beneath star-strewn skies. He took me to every bookshop in the city, and, gods help me, he bought me way too many books.

“You don’t have to buy me things,” I told him firmly after he tried, for the third time, to purchase an entire tray of jewelry from a shopkeeper who looked like she might pass out at the sight of him.

He only smiled, that quiet, knowing smirk that made my heart flutter in ways I was trying very hard to ignore.

Still, that night, a necklace and matching bracelet, delicate, silver, and laced with tiny stars appeared on my dresser, wrapped in midnight-blue velvet.

Typical Shadowsinger.

I rolled my eyes and wore them the next day.

Things were going well. Maybe too well.

Then Velaris was attacked.

It was chaos. Fire, screams, smoke curling above rooftops I’d come to love. I stood frozen on a balcony, heart in my throat, until Azriel was suddenly at my side, wings flaring wide as he took to the skies. Rhys, Cassian, Feyre, and Mor joined the fray in an instant, and I could only watch as magic and steel carved through the threat.

We survived. Barely. But the message was clear: we were not safe anymore. Not even here.

When the dust settled, Amren finally emerged from her lair, book in hand, eyes flashing with power. She’d finished the translation.

And I met her.

She was exactly as terrifying as everyone had promised. And then some.

The Cauldron had also been located.

A plan formed quickly. Too quickly and when Azriel told me I wasn’t coming, I almost laughed.

“You want me to stay behind?” I repeated, arms crossed, book still open in my lap. “After what just happened to the city?”

“It’s not safe—”

“It’s not safe anywhere,” I snapped, standing. “I’m safer with you. You know that.”

His shadows curled in agitation, like they wanted to argue too.

He hesitated, then gave a short, reluctant nod. “Fine. But you stay behind me. Always.”

I nodded. “Deal.”

The truth was, I didn’t want to sit back while everyone else risked their lives. Not just because I was brave, but because I was afraid, afraid to lose him. And something in me, some new thread of strength, refused to let fear be what defined me.

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 26

A Moment

The meeting with the mortal queens had come and gone.

Only a few of them bothered to show, but even that had been enough. We left with the second half of the Book of Breathings, and with it, a flicker of hope in this looming war.

Nesta and Elain had officially moved into the gated estate Graysen called a home. A cold, hollow place, if you asked me. But they were adjusting, or at least pretending to. That had been yesterday.

Today, the world had slowed.

Rain pattered softly against the windows, and the sky outside was a gentle gray. I was curled in one of the oversized chairs in the library, legs tucked under me, a book open on my lap. The words blurred slightly from the warmth and rhythm of the storm. I was on the verge of drifting off when a low voice broke through the quiet.

“I thought I’d find you in here.”

Azriel.

I looked up, pretending not to notice the way my heart did a ridiculous flutter.

“You thought right,” I said dryly, glancing back down at my book. A few of his shadows darted toward me, twining softly around my arms. I smiled faintly and reached out to stroke one of them like it was a curious cat.

“I know they tell you where I am all the time,” I added, not bothering to look up.

“Not all the time,” he replied as he moved to sit across from me. “They like you. Sometimes I think more than they like me.”

I hummed. “Smart shadows.”

We fell into silence, the kind that settled easy between us these days. The sound of rain, the crackle of fire, and the occasional flick of a page were all that filled the room. I let myself glance over at him, at the way his scarred fingers curled around the arm of the chair, the way the firelight glinted off his dark hair.

“Can I ask you something?” I said finally, my voice quiet.

He nodded without hesitation.

“What happened to your hands?”

He stilled. The fire popped in the hearth.

Then, gently, Azriel began to speak.

He told me about being born a bastard. About how his father ripped him away from his mother and locked him in a lightless closet. How he was allowed to see her for only an hour each week. He told me about his stepbrothers their hatred, their cruelty. How one day, they poured oil over his hands and set them on fire.

The scars had never faded.

And that was where the shadows found him, he said. In the dark. When no one else had.

My throat ached. My chest physically hurt. I was crying before I even realized it, silent tears slipping down my cheeks as I imagined him, a small, broken boy, alone in the dark, starved for love.

I couldn’t stop myself. One second I was across from him, and the next, I was climbing into his lap and throwing my arms around him. I buried my face into his shoulder, trying to hold in the sob that wanted to escape.

Azriel went still. Then, so gently, he wrapped his arms around me. His scent, warm and familiar, filled my lungs.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, “don’t cry.”

I pulled back enough to look at him, and he wiped a tear from my cheek with the back of his scarred fingers. His touch was impossibly soft.

“I can’t help it,” I whispered. “You were just a boy.”

“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “If I hadn’t gone through it, I probably wouldn’t have met Rhys or Cassian.”

That only made it worse, somehow. That he could look at his trauma and still find meaning in it. Still find gratitude.

The tears slowed. I cleared my throat and sat up, suddenly too aware of how close I was to him. Of how safe I’d felt there. How safe I still felt.

“I think it’s time for me to go to bed,” I said, standing and brushing the back of my hand across my face.

Azriel nodded but didn’t rise.

“Goodnight, Azriel,” I said. I hesitated at the doorway, then added, softer, “Thank you. For telling me.”

His shadows swirled around him like they were reaching for me even as I walked away.

“Goodnight, darling,” he said.

My heart stuttered at the endearment, but I didn’t correct him.

I didn’t want to.

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 25

The Sparring Ring

A few weeks had passed, and I’d started to settle into life in Velaris.

Rhysand and Cassian were quickly becoming the brothers I never had; Cassian, loud and reckless with a heart as big as his muscles, and Rhys, polished and infuriating but always kind when it mattered. Mor felt like the big sister who always encouraged bad decisions, and Feyre was my best friend. My true sister in all the ways that counted.I hadn’t met Amren yet. Everyone said she was a little intense, which probably meant she’d eat me alive.

And then there was Azriel.

My husband. My mate.

The enigma wrapped in shadows and silence. I wasn’t really angry with him anymore, but I let him believe I was. It felt easier somehow. Safer.

That morning, just as the first golden light filtered in through my window, Feyre knocked and told me to follow her. No explanation. Just that cryptic Feyre grin that meant something chaotic was about to happen.

The air was crisp as she led me through the stone hallway and out onto a mountainside balcony. Wind tugged at my hair, the scent of pine and cold earth biting at my cheeks.

“Where are we going again?” I asked, hugging my cloak tighter around my body.

Feyre laughed. “We’re going to the rooftop sparring ring. It’s one of my favorite places to unwind.”

I blinked. “You unwind by watching them try to murder each other?”

She shrugged, smiling. “It’s weirdly therapeutic.”

We stepped onto the terrace,and I immediately understood.

Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel were already in the ring. And they were shirtless.

“Oh,” I muttered. “Okay. I see your point.”

Feyre smirked, clearly pleased with my reaction.

Cassian was stretching, his muscles flexing like a living sculpture carved by an overly enthusiastic artist. Rhys leaned casually against a stone wall, looking like lounging royalty about to wade into a war. And Azriel… Azriel moved like smoke, silent, precise, lethal. His shadows curled around his shoulders like they were part of him, not separate. Gods, he was beautiful.

“Why is he always so serious?” I asked, eyes locked on Azriel even when I didn’t want them to be.

Feyre leaned closer, voice soft. “Because he thinks if he lets go for even a second, everything will fall apart.”

That sounded painfully accurate.

We sat on a stone bench at the edge of the ring. Cassian spotted us first and waved with all the enthusiasm of a golden retriever in battle leathers.

“Come to admire the view?” he called.

“More like to watch you fall on your face,” I shot back.

Cassian grinned. “Feisty. I like it.”

Azriel growled for some unknown reason.

Rhysand gave a low, mocking bow from across the ring. “Welcome, Lady Aurora.”

“Drop the ‘lady’ or I’m throwing pinecones.”

Even Azriel cracked a smile at that, though he didn’t look directly at me. Smart. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if he did. Ask him to kiss me again? Burst into flames if he did?

I’d already decided I wouldn’t reject the mating bond.

I just wasn’t sure I was ready to accept it either.

Get it together, Aurora.

The sparring began, and I leaned back beside Feyre as the males launched into combat. Cassian’s fighting was big and wild, full of raw power. Rhys moved like a dancer who happened to be made of shadows and sarcasm. And Azriel, Azriel was pure silence and death, all coiled precision and ghostlike grace. His wings flared, shadows dancing across his bare back like they couldn’t bear to leave him.

“You do realize he looks at you every few seconds, right?” Feyre said quietly.

I tensed. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Feyre gave me a look.

“Okay,” I muttered. “Fine. Maybe I noticed.”

Feyre said gently. “Azriel doesn’t give his heart away easily. And he gave it to you long before the bond snapped into place.”

Her words were a balm. I nodded. “I’m not going to reject the bond,” I said softly.

Before Feyre could answer, Azriel flipped Cassian onto his back with a resounding thud.

“I swear I slipped!” Cassian shouted.

“No, you didn’t,” Rhys and Azriel said in perfect unison.

I burst into laughter, and Cassian pointed a dramatic finger at me. “Traitor!”

“You should learn to fall more gracefully,” I called. “Next time, try twirling.”

Cassian rolled to his feet with theatrical flair and bowed low. “I live to serve, my lady.”

I looked back at Azriel. His wings were tucked in now, shadows brushing over his skin the same way they sometimes brushed over mine. He didn’t look at me, but I could feel it. His awareness. That invisible tether always pulling us closer, even when I was trying to keep space between us.

“I feel like I belong here,” I whispered.

Feyre squeezed my hand. “You do.”

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 24

A Conversation

The fire crackled softly in the study, casting flickering light over the same page I’d read three times without really absorbing a word.

“The mating bond, while rooted in ancient magic, does not manufacture emotion or attraction

I curled my legs under me, tugging the soft blanket tighter around my shoulders. The chair by the fire was oversized and plush, the perfect trap for getting lost in a book. If only my mind would cooperate.

Halfway through the next chapter, the door creaked open. Shadows slipped across the floor, silent and slow like they were sizing me up, or warning me. And then came him.

Azriel.

I didn’t look up. Maybe if I ignored him long enough, he’d fade away like he always did, dissolving into mist and shadow, leaving me alone with my books.

Of course, that was asking too much.

He didn’t say a word, just stood there. I felt the weight of his gaze like a second fire, hot and heavy against my skin. The shadows around him curled, curious, as if they were trying to read what I was feeling.

“Planning to stand there all night, or is brooding silently part of your grand romantic strategy?” I asked flatly, flipping the page with unnecessary force.

A long pause. Then, “I wasn’t brooding.”

I peeked over the rim of the book. “You literally invented brooding. If they put it in the dictionary, your scowling face would be the picture.”

His lips twitched in almost a smile. “Noted.”

He stepped closer. I immediately dove back into the book, as if the words might save me.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, voice soft.

“You didn’t,” I shot back. “I was just reading about how mating bonds don’t magically create feelings, and how I’m definitely not spiraling over whether you’d still want me if it didn’t exist.”

His breath caught, just a little. I hated how much I noticed.

“You think I wouldn’t want you without the bond?” His voice was low, rough, like saying it cost him something.

I snapped the book shut, eyes meeting his. “Can you blame me? I’m not like them,” I gestured vaguely.. “Not Feyre, or Mor, or any of the others you’ve spent your immortal life with.”

“I don’t want them,” he said, stepping closer.

“Well, forgive me if that’s not exactly comforting right now.”

“I know I hurt you,” he said quietly. “I made decisions for you, not with you. But Aurora, the bond didn’t make me love you.”

Silence stretched between us. The fire popped, shadows gathering at the edges, like they were listening.

“Then you should’ve waited,” I said.

Azriel didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he sank into the chair across from me, shadows pooling around him like a protective cloak.

“I panicked,” he said. Even though we had already gone over this. “You could be in danger, the bond snapped, and all I could think was protect, protect, protect. I didn’t stop to ask what you wanted. I don’t regret it, but I do wish you could forgive me.”

I looked at him really looked and it stung. How handsome he was. How much softness hid beneath all that armor. How quiet he could be, yet how loudly my heart raced whenever he was near.

“I’m not ready to forgive you yet,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said.

“I’m still mad.”

“I know that too.”

“And you sit around looking like a kicked puppy because I've been ignoring you."

That earned a faint, wry smile. “I’ll take whatever scraps of conversation you give me.”

I let out a breathy laugh and glanced down at the book again, fingers tracing the edge of the page.

Azriel nodded once. “I’ll wait for you to forgive me, to love me. As long as it takes.”

I looked back at him and the shadows curled near me, like they were trying to comfort me when he couldn’t.

“You better be good at waiting,” I muttered. “Because I can be very stubborn.”

Azriel’s grin was quiet but real. “I know.”

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 23

The Library

Chapter Twenty-One: Shelves of Truth

“You ready for your grand tour of the library?” Cassian asked, grinning like he was about to take me somewhere dangerous instead of a place full of books.

I raised an eyebrow. “Is this your idea of a good time?”

He placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Books and bonding time with your favorite brother-in-law? Obviously.”

I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my mouth tugged upward. “Fine. Lead the way, General.”

The doors to the library opened silently as we stepped inside, and everything else seemed to hush under the weight of the space. It was quiet, cavernous, and sacred in a way I hadn’t expected. Columns stretched endlessly, bookshelves towered around us, and the faint scent of parchment and dust wrapped around me like a blanket.

I stopped and whispered, “This place is magic.”

Cassian’s expression softened. “Yeah. It kind of is.”

He didn’t shout or stomp around like usual. Instead, his voice matched the reverent silence. Respectful. Gentle. As if he, too, understood that this place had stories more ancient than any of us, and griefs deeper than he could punch his way through.

“There’s a section on fae history over here,” he said, guiding me through the maze of shelves. “And another on mating bonds some of it’s romantic, some… not so much. Up to you how deep you want to dive.”

“I want it all,” I said, surprised by the certainty in my voice. “Everything I can understand. I want to know what it really means to be someone’s mate.”

He nodded and started pulling a few thick volumes from the shelves, handing them to me like a proud older brother. I took them and looked down at the titles. We left the library with the books I had picked out.

We were almost back home when Cassian spoke, “He’s been in love with you for a long time, you know. The bond didn’t make him feel that way."

I stared down at the books in my arms, unsure what to say. The bond. Azriel. My body, my softness, everything I had always been told made me less. And somehow, the Cauldron had decided I was worthy of someone like him?

“I’m not what people picture when they think of a mate or a wife.” I said quietly.

Cassian huffed. “You mean you’re not tall and thin? Azriel prefers you the way you are. He thinks you're the perfect mate with the perfect body."

I swallowed hard, biting back the emotions rising in my throat. “And what if I don’t know how to see myself the way he sees me?”

“Then take your time. And maybe start here.” He tapped the top book in my stack. “But don’t shut him out forever just because you’re scared.”

I nodded slowly, the weight of the books oddly comforting in my hands.

Cassian clapped a hand on my shoulder with exaggerated gentleness. “Now, I’m off to spar with Rhysand and make him cry. Enjoy your reading.”

I snorted. “Try not to break anything. Including yourself.”

He winked. “No promises.”

And then I was alone. I settled into a cozy chair and opened the first book.

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 22

A Suggestion

I woke the next morning to sunlight spilling across the plush sheets, the events of the day before crashing back into my mind like a wave.

I dressed in a simple, slate-blue gown that felt soft against my skin and fit like it had been tailored just for me. It was understated but lovely, practical for everyday wear. I had no idea where I was going, so I followed the sound of voices through the quiet halls until I found a large, sunlit dining area. Cassian spotted me first, his grin wide and warm.

“Well, look who finally decided to rejoin the living,” he teased. “Come on, sleepyhead. We saved you a seat.”

Unsurprisingly, the only empty seat was next to Azriel. Of course.

I sat down with every intention of ignoring him completely. A solid, silent protest.

Rhysand, of course, had to be polite. “How did you sleep? Was everything all right with the room?”

“It was great, thank you,” I replied. “And thank you for letting me stay here. Also, for buying me way too many clothes. Honestly, half of Velaris might be naked now because of it.”

Rhys laughed. “You’re welcome. And don’t worry, we left everyone else with at least one outfit.”

Despite my cold-shoulder strategy, I felt I had to at least acknowledge Azriel’s effort. I glanced at him briefly. “Thank you… for the clothes. They’re beautiful. They must’ve cost a small fortune.”

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly. “The one you’re wearing, my mother made it. I asked her to after I first met you.”

I blinked.

His mother?

He told his mother about me?

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I turned back to my food and stabbed my eggs a little too aggressively. That was a big deal, right?

Azriel remained silent for the rest of the meal, probably realizing I was still angry and determined to keep ignoring him. Good. He deserved it.

Cassian and Mor, on the other hand, made it impossible to wallow. They asked about everything, my life, my interests, even embarrassing childhood memories Feyre shared with far too much enthusiasm. They were easy to talk to. Cassian especially felt like the brother I never had, loud and overbearing in the best kind of way.

After breakfast, Feyre asked if I wanted to see Velaris, and I jumped at the chance. A walk and fresh air sounded better than stewing in my own thoughts in that too-comfortable room.

The city was breathtaking, vibrant with life and color. Bookshops nestled between bakeries, musicians playing on street corners, the scent of warm bread and roasted spices in the air. Feyre and I walked arm in arm, Rhys trailing behind us at a respectful distance, giving us space to talk.

We stopped for lunch at a quaint little café with tables set beneath blooming wisteria. The breeze carried laughter and conversation from nearby tables. It was peaceful.

Feyre glanced at me. “You know… Azriel really is a good male.”

I sighed and slumped back in my chair. “I know. That’s what makes it so hard.”

Rhysand joined in, leaning an elbow on the table. “He loves you, you know. He’s been in love with you since he first saw you. And I mean long before this mating bond snapped into place. I’ve spent years hearing about the ‘beautiful girl in his dreams.’ Honestly, it got a little pathetic.”

I scoffed. “Of course he loves me. The mating bond told him to.”

Rhys raised a brow. “The mating bond doesn’t create feelings, Aurora. It doesn’t make you love someone, or make them love you. It only reveals who your perfect match is.”

I laughed bitterly. “So I’m Azriel’s perfect match? That’s hilarious. Have you seen him? Have you seen me?”

They both stared at me.

“Without the bond, he wouldn’t look twice at me,” I added. “He’d probably think I was…repulsive. Definitely not someone someone like him would want.”

Feyre’s expression softened with empathy, while Rhys just looked tired.

“Aurora,” Feyre said, “you don’t see yourself clearly, but we all do. And Azriel? He sees everything. Every inch of you, every piece. And he chose you.”

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. My throat was too tight.

Rhys reached over and squeezed my hand. “You love books. You love to learn. Why don’t you go to the library? There are books there on the mating bond. Do the research. See for yourself what it really means.”

I let out a breath and nodded. “That… actually sounds like a great idea.”

“Good,” Rhys said with a satisfied smirk. “That’s settled then. Your next few days are booked.”

I gave him a dry look. “A library pun, really hilarious." I laughed.

Rhys just grinned.

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 21

New Home

Feyre led me down a quiet hallway and into what could only be described as a dream. The bedroom was massive, with high arched windows overlooking the river, soft moonlight casting silver ribbons across the floor. A large bed sat in the center of the room, draped in deep blue and silver linens. A cozy sitting area with a plush couch and bookshelves lined one wall, a fireplace flickering warmly nearby. Off to the side, a door led into what I assumed was a bathroom, and another into a walk-in closet. Everything was elegant, yet inviting.

“This is beautiful,” I breathed, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

Feyre smiled gently. “It’s your home now.” She chuckled softly. “Remember how we used to wish we could live in the same house, when we were kids?”

I smiled, the memory warming something buried beneath all the confusion and doubt. “Yeah. We wanted to live in a castle far away."

“Well,” she said, motioning around us, "seems like this is pretty close.”

I laughed lightly, then hesitated. “Do you think there’s anything here that will actually fit me? Something to sleep in?”

Feyre gestured toward the closet. “Take a look.”

I gave her a quizzical look and stepped forward, pulling open the ornate doors.

My breath caught.

The closet was full, overflowing, really. Gowns in rich colors and luxurious fabrics, elegant dresses, tunics, nightgowns, robes. I opened the nearby dresser and found it equally full, soft sleepwear, underthings, and everything in my size.

“This… this isn’t what I packed,” I said, running a hand over a midnight-blue dress that looked expensive enough to buy a small kingdom. “I only had a small bag.”

Feyre’s smile widened. “We brought what you packed. But… we may have added a few things over the past few months. We were excited you were coming here.”

I turned to her, stunned. “You bought me all this?”

“Some of it,” she said. “But most of it was Azriel.”

I froze.

Azriel? My husband, my mate.

He had bought me gowns. Clothes. Beautiful things that fit my body perfectly. No too-small waists or sleeves that didn’t fit my arms. He had seen me, really seen me, and bought clothes for the body I actually had, not the one society said I needed to have. I didn’t know what to make of that.

Feyre stepped forward and pulled me into a soft hug. “He wanted you to be comfortable here. Safe.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, voice thick.

“I’ll let you get settled,” she said gently. “Let us know if you need anything. Good night.”

“Good night,” I murmured.

When she left, I made my way to the bathroom, stunned again by its size and luxury. I filled the tub and slipped in, trying to let the warm water soothe away the chaos in my mind. But the silence only amplified it.

I’m married. To Azriel. To the Night Court’s famous spymaster. And I’m… his mate?

The bond was real, I could feel it, like a hum beneath my skin, a thread tying me to him. But did that mean his feelings were real? Or were they just instinct? Magic pulling at him because of something fated?

He was beautiful. Strong. Respected. And I wasn’t any of those things. I was soft where others were sharp, quiet where others demanded attention, loud when I didn't need to be. I had curves, stomach rolls, and wide fleshy hips. I’d never had anyone look at me the way he did. I didn’t understand it. Didn’t believe it.

Maybe he’d wake up tomorrow and regret everything.

I got out of the bath, pulled on a soft nightgown that somehow felt like it had been made just for me, and climbed into the enormous bed. The sheets were smooth and cool against my skin, but sleep refused to come.

My thoughts spun, tangled with worry.

About Azriel. About the war. About the King of Hybern and the danger I apparently posed just by existing. Could I really be hunted? Tortured? Killed, just because of my bloodline?

I rolled onto my side, tucking my arm beneath the pillow.

And then I felt it. A flicker in the corner of the room.

A tendril of shadow, curling near the fireplace, too deliberate to be imagined. Watching. Guarding.

I didn’t feel threatened. I felt… safe.

I closed my eyes.

Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it brought dreams of wings and shadows, of strong arms wrapped around me and a deep voice whispering my name like a promise.

Dreams of Azriel.

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 20

What’s This Really About?

I looked around the room, heart pounding. My gaze snapped from Feyre to Rhysand, then to the stunning blonde fae woman I didn’t recognize. I motioned toward Azriel and myself with a sweep of my hand, barely keeping the tremor out of my voice.

“Did you all know about this?”

The blonde woman raised a perfectly shaped brow. “No,” she said flatly. “We’re just as shocked as you are.”

She took a step forward and offered a smile that somehow managed to be both genuine and unnervingly bright. “I’m Morrigan. But you can call me Mor. Welcome to the family.”

And then, like Cassian, she pulled me into a hug so tight it felt like my ribs might shatter.

“I’m Aurora,” I squeaked, smushed awkwardly against her fae strength.

She released me with a grin, just as Rhysand’s calm, authoritative voice cut through the tension.

“Everyone except Aurora and Azriel, out. We need to speak in private.”

Cassian gave Azriel an exaggerated thumbs-up as he backed toward the door, and didn’t see the rude hand gesture Azriel sent his way in response.

I sank into the chair Mor had vacated, the plush cushions doing nothing to settle the storm inside me. Azriel sat across from me, his posture heavy, one hand rubbing his temple like he could erase everything that had just happened with pressure alone.

Rhysand crossed his arms and fixed Azriel with a disappointed stare.

“Azriel,” he said slowly, “what were you thinking? You kidnapped her, and then forced her to marry you? That’s not like you. You don’t make rash decisions. What happened?”

That was the question, wasn’t it?

I looked to Azriel, folding my arms tightly across my chest, trying to hold myself together. My mind felt like it was splintering. My heart was a mess of confusion and betrayal and something else I didn’t want to name.

Azriel let out a long breath. “You both know I’ve been dreaming about her for a long time. I never knew why.”

My heart skipped. He dreamed of me too?

He kept going. “Tonight, when we were sitting together, talking about the war, about safety, the bond snapped. Just like that. One moment she was this beautiful female I had dreamed of a life with, and the next she was my mate.” His voice turned rough. “After that, all I could think was: protect her. Keep her safe. And with her being part fae, she’s in more danger than any of the humans. The only way I could make sure no one touched her was to bind her to me. I would never force the mating bond on her. So marriage was the next best thing.”

He looked at me directly then, shadows flickering behind his eyes.

“I don’t regret my decision,” he said, voice low. “And I don’t care if you’re angry at me for the next ten years.”

I stared at him, stunned. “I’m your mate?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “That’s what that golden thread was? The one I saw tying us together?”

He nodded once, silently.

I laughed bitterly. It wasn’t funny, not really, but what else could I do? That’s what all this was about. He didn’t care about me. It was all about the bond.

“How am I your mate?” I gestured between us. “Look at me. Look at you.”

He frowned, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean look at us,” I snapped. “You’re Azriel, this beautiful, terrifying, legendary shadowsinger. You could have anyone. Someone who looks like Mor. Or Feyre. Someone… perfect.”

His wings rustled slightly, a warning in his tension. “I don’t want anyone else.” he growled. “I want you.”

That growl rumbled down my spine, pooling low in my stomach in a way I really didn’t want to think about right now.

I forced myself to change the subject, heart hammering.

“Wait… did you say I’m part fae?”

I turned to Feyre and Rhysand, searching their faces.

Feyre stepped forward gently. “You’ve had a lot of surprises tonight. Maybe we can talk about this more in the morning. After some rest.”

“No,” I said firmly. “I want to know. Now. What does that even mean? And how do you know?”

Rhysand’s voice was calm but grave. “It means exactly what it sounds like. You’re half human, half fae. We don’t know who your parents were or the circumstances of your birth. But we can feel it. Your magic. Your blood. It’s there.”

“But what did Azriel mean about me being in more danger than other humans?”

Rhysand’s expression darkened. “Because in the eyes of some high fae, especially the King of Hybern, half-breeds are beneath contempt. During the first war, he enslaved humans—but tortured and executed those with fae blood. You wouldn’t just be hated, Aurora. You’d be hunted.”

The room spun. I couldn’t breathe.

Should the war with Hybern come to pass I would be a walking target. And the male who had kidnapped me, married me, and was my mate was my shield and protection.

It was too much. All of it.

“I’d like to go to bed now,” I said, quietly but firmly.

Then I turned to Azriel, not bothering to hide the cold edge in my voice.

“And I would like my own room.”

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 19

Vows

The vows were simple.

Azriel and I stood before the priestess in a small, candlelit temple. The air smelled of lavender and cedar, heavy with magic and expectation. We repeated the sacred words, to love, honor, cherish, and protect, and I couldn’t help but linger on that last one.

Protect. That was what this was all about. This was about Azriel’s wanting, no needing, to keep me safe.

When Azriel slid the ring onto my finger, it took my breath away. It was beautiful. A deep, gleaming blue, the exact color of his siphons. Too thoughtful. Too perfect. It made my chest ache for reasons I didn’t want to examine.

Then the priestess smiled and said, “You may seal your bond with a kiss.”

A kiss? Panic rose like a tidal wave. I’d never kissed anyone. Not once. Not even a clumsy teenage peck behind the tavern.

I didn’t know what to do other than in theory.

But Azriel stepped close, slow and steady, as if he sensed my nerves. His hand cupped my cheek, his shadows dancing lightly at the edge of my vision. Then his lips touched mine, soft and deep, more a question than a demand. And gods, it was electrifying. I loved it. I needed more.

Then, with a shimmer of magic, a tattoo bloomed on my wrist. A soft shimmer of magic tickled across my wrist, and I looked down to see a tattoo bloom there. His name, Azriel, inked in swirling black script among delicate flowers and curling shadows.

He held out his own wrist, and I saw my name etched in matching ink. A symbol of our bond, our bargain.

“We’re married,” I said flatly. The words felt foreign in my mouth. “Wonderful.”

I crossed my arms and looked up at him, bitterness simmering beneath the surface. “I suppose now you’ll force me to consummate this little sham?”

Azriel’s jaw clenched, and his eyes turned to ice. He was furious.

“I will never force you to do that,” he said coldly. “Never.”

Immediately, regret curled in my stomach. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I know you wouldn’t. I just—” I sighed and looked away. “This wasn’t how I pictured any of this.”

Azriel gave a short nod and, without another word, lifted me into his arms again.

“Let’s go home,” he said.

Shadows wrapped around us, and the wind howled in my ears as we flew once more.

We landed on a broad stone balcony that overlooked a silver river winding through a breathtaking cityscape. The lights of Velaris sparkled below us like stars fallen to earth.

It was beautiful.

Azriel carried me inside, into a cozy sitting room glowing with firelight.

And that’s when I saw them. Feyre sat perched on a velvet chair, Rhysand beside her, arms crossed and eyes sharp with annoyance. A beautiful blonde fae woman lounged nearby, looking every bit as irritated as the High Lord.

And then there was Cassian, beaming, relaxed, like someone had just handed him the punchline to his favorite joke.

“Welcome to the family, sis!” he said cheerfully, striding over and sweeping me into a crushing hug.

I barely had time to react before my arms were pinned to my sides and my face was smushed against his chest.

“Can’t. Breathe,” I muttered.

He laughed and let go, stepping back with a grin that could rival the sun.

I looked around the room again, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. I hadn’t had time to process anything, not the kiss, not the ring, not the tattoo on my wrist. Now I was being greeted like I’d just joined a dinner party.

Like this wasn’t all utterly insane.

[scrollsofvelaris]

Whispers of Wings and Shadow: Chapter 18

Insanity

We landed in front of what looked like a jewelry store, the kind with crystal-clear windows and soft golden lights glowing from within.

Azriel still had me cradled in his arms, but I immediately began to squirm, trying to break away . After a moment, he let out a quiet sigh and set me down.

The second my feet touched the ground, I spun on him, voice sharp and trembling.

“Are you insane?” I demanded. “I can’t marry you. I don’t even know you.”

Azriel, dark, unreadable Azriel, shrugged with maddening calm. “People marry like that all the time.”

“People who’ve lost their minds or have no other choice,” I snapped. “And, just for the record, you kidnapped me. I’m pretty sure this whole situation is highly illegal.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You really think anyone would try to stop me from doing something illegal?”

He had a point. A valid point. He was terrifying. And yet, despite everything, I wasn’t afraid of him.

But I wasn’t finished either.

“Just because you’re the big, bad shadowsinging Spymaster doesn’t mean you get to drag me away from my home and force me into marriage!”

“It does,” he said, his voice low and resolute, “if it means keeping you safe. I’ve waited my whole life for you. I won’t have you harmed or worse.”

My breath hitched.

So that was it. This wasn’t about control. It was about protection. About the war. About me.

“If you’re bound to me,” he continued, his gaze burning into mine, “no one will dare touch you.”

There was something terrifyingly final in his words, and something heartbreakingly sincere.

“You could keep me safe in other ways,” I tried.

“There is no other way.” His tone was absolute. “I won’t force the mating bond on you. That choice is yours. But marriage…” He paused. “Marriage will be enough. For now.”

I stared at him. The words for now echoed in my mind like the beat of a war drum. Wait, he said mating bond? I didn’t have time to dwell on that.

Then he added, more softly, “Come on. I need a ring. I already have yours.”

My mouth fell open. “Wait—what?”

“You planned this!” I accused, pointing at him.

“I didn’t,” he said. “I just bought the ring. For one day. A future day.”

My heart thudded.

He’d bought a ring. For me. Before all of this. But why?

This was madness. It had to be. I must have fallen asleep somewhere back in the kitchen, spilled tea in my lap, and was now dreaming all of this.

But Azriel opened the door, held it for me like a gentleman, and I walked into the jewelry shop as if this were all perfectly normal.

He asked me to choose something for him. All the while I was still trying to convince him of another way. He wouldn’t hear it.

My fingers trembled as I reached for a simple black band, something quiet, something strong. Just like him.

He nodded, satisfied, and we left.

Before I could question anything else, the shadows surged again, and we were airborne once more.

The wind rushed past, the city glittering below, and then we landed outside a small, temple.

He was really going to do it.

He was going to marry me. He was going to force me to marry him.

All for the sake of keeping me safe.

Maybe I was in shock. Because even though my heart raced and my thoughts scrambled, I couldn’t bring myself to continue fighting him about it.

Either way… I was going to marry Azriel.