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wafflefries13 · 1 month ago

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Murder on the Mr. Bluebird Express (TWST x Reader)

Summary:

It's your birthday! To celebrate, Malleus has scored you and all your friends tickets on the famous Mr. Bluebird Express. As you all board the train, isolated with no cell service, the night can only go well, right? ... Right?

Warnings: Slight depictions of blood and gore (?), character injury, happy ending (I promise, guys, I can't follow through with angst to save my life), can be read as platonic or romantic, afab reader with she/her pronouns

Cross posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen

Author's note: I've always loved mysteries, so this is my first try at actually writing one. Not sure how good it actually is, but if you never practice you'll never get any better at it. I got the idea from an episode of Detective Academy Q, if anyone has ever seen that anime. Thanks for reading!

“Your birthday is soon, isn’t it?” Malleus asked as if he hadn’t marked the date on his calendar months ahead of time. “You must tell me what you would like for a present. No object is out of reach.”

(Y/N) waved her hand at him. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s on a weekend, which is good. Having the day off is pretty much all I really want. Well, you know, as much a day off as I can get. I’m sure Crowley will find something else for me to do.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ooh, maybe we can go into town. I wouldn’t mind if you get me lunch from that one cafe in Foothill Town.”

“Nothing would make me happier.” He said, putting a hand to his chest and bowing regally. (Y/N) laughed, shoving him playfully. Green fireflies swirled around them, the only light accompanying the stars on the moonless night. Although it was late, Malleus and (Y/N) had become more than accustomed to their late night walks at this point that they were both wide away at this time of night no matter what.

“Oh, don’t let me forget,” (Y/N) said suddenly. “Sebek lent me a book the other day. Would you be able to give it back to him for me? We don’t have any classes together tomorrow.”

“Of course. What book was it?”

(Y/N) spread her hands wide in front of them, as if displaying the title. “Midnight Rose. It’s a murder mystery about the bookworm daughter of a crazy professor. There’s a bunch of mysterious, animal attack-like deaths in their small country village, and her father is blamed, so she has to find the real murderer while teaming up with a local nobel with a dark secret. Apparently it’s a classic here. I used to love reading mysteries back in my world. My favorite classic author was Agatha Christie. She had amazing stories and I loved trying to guess the end.”

“Do tell,” Malleus said.

“Let’s see. She had a bunch of really famous ones. And Then There Were None is about a bunch of seemingly unrelated people being invited to an isolated island before mysteriously dying off one by one. Murder on the Nile is a locked room mystery on a boat during a newlywed party. Crooked House has this big sprawling mansion and a ton of suspects. Oh, one of my favorites is Murder on the Orient Express. That one’s on a train and it’s really cool because the culprit is-” She cut herself off with a sly smile. “Well, spoilers for a book that came out, like, a hundred years ago and you’ll probably never be able to read, but still.”

“It sounds like a thrilling experience.”

“Oh, yeah. I think that one’s my favorite because it all takes place on a train. A lot of other countries in my world have these really extensive train networks with all these fancy cars, but it’s not too common in my country. I guess I like to romanticize something like that. Even with the murder.”

Malleus’ eyes twinkled. “Ah, I see. Unfortunately, my dear child of man, we may have to reschedule dining at the cafe. I believe you’ve given me a much better idea of how to celebrate your birthday.”

And that was how a gaggle of Night Raven College students found themselves waiting in a train station, late evening light casting long shadows across the marble floor. The station was almost empty this time of day, only open for the specialty train they were waiting for. (Y/N) looked around her group of friends, giddy that they had all agreed to come on such short notice. Even Leona and Idia, who she knew would rather avoid most responsibility or social situations, had somehow been wrapped up in attending.

Everyone had dressed up for the occasion, as based on the proposed dress code that had been attached to the ornate invitation Malleus had sent out earlier that week. To (Y/N), it reminded her of old Roaring 20’s glamor, suits with detailed beadwork, fancy hats, suspenders, glittering accessories, and slicked styled hair. (Y/N) had found her own flapper-style dress in one of the many abandoned rooms of Ramshackle. A doting Professor Crewel had volunteered to revive the painted silk dress for her special day, including lending her an elegant strand of pearls she looped several times around her neck. Apparently, the style was to reminisce about when the train first came into service during the golden age of non-magical transportation. Whatever the reason, it made (Y/N) feel daring and fancy, like she was a secret princess about to escape into an elegant speakeasy.

“(Y/N)!” Ace called her. She walked over to the Heartslabuyl group standing in front of a large mural depicting their train and the route it would take.

“The Mr. Bluebird Express,” Grim read out. “What a weird name for a train.”

“Is it?” (Y/N) asked. “I always thought trains were like race horses, they always have crazy names. The California Zephyr, the Twilight Limited, the Flying Pussyfoot.”

“I think it’s cute,” Cater said, catching the last of the dying light to get the perfect selfie. “It’s a really famous luxury line. My sisters were super jealous when I told them we were coming. Happy birthday, (Y/N)!” He pulled her into another picture and she smiled and waved.

“Of course, we’ll only be on part of the line tonight,” Riddle said, tracing his finger along the diagram for the scenic ride they were taking for dinner. “Thank you for including us on your birthday.”

“Of course! I wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else!”

“I’m impressed we were able to get so many tickets last minute,” Trey said. “But, well, I guess Malleus is Malleus.”

“Who cares about scenery!” Grim said, jumping off (Y/N)’s shoulder to hover in the air. “A fancy ride like this probably has super fancy food! When do we get to eat?”

(Y/N) laughed, reaching forward to readjust Grim’s new bow. “The train should get here soon. You won’t starve.”

“Says you. Ugh, I’m fading already. Head, fuzzy, everything going dark.” He dramatically put a paw to his forehead, rolling his eyes and drooping in the air. (Y/N) caught him, holding him close and scratching behind his ears until he perked back up and purred.

They all looked up as a train whistle sounded off in the distance, rapidly approaching. Each dorm group made their way out to the platform, necks craning down the track to watch the train pull into the station. It was a beautiful almost pearlescent dark blue with gold filigree swirling and dancing around the engine and cars. A tall smoke stack on the engine car blew out white steam that twinkle with starburst sparks. Mr. Bluebird Express was written in elegant, swooping golden script along the side of the train. The train hissed to a stop at the platform, a side door clicking open.

Malleus stepped forward, dark and elegant in his black and forest green suit. He held out a black glove clad hand. “Happy birthday, dearest (Y/N).” He said. “After you.”

Kalim whooped behind them. “Happy birthday, (Y/N)!” That started up a round of applause and well wishes from the crowd, even the more reluctant and serious members.

(Y/N) smiled at her friends, heart swelling. She couldn’t believe how incredibly lucky she felt at this moment. The people who mattered most to her in this world, who she had been through so many trials and tribulations with, who she had seen grow and change and had grown and changed with them. Even in this strange world, she knew she wouldn’t want to be or with anyone else. She blinked back happy tears, turning back to Malleus and taking his hand, stepping up the small stairs into the train car.

Her feet immediately sunk into the plush maroon carpet of the train car. She spun around to take in the beautiful interior. The dining car had large rectangular windows, dark wood booths along one side with elegant white dishes and sparkling silverware. There was a bar curving along one end of the car, stocked with crystal glasses and all manner of bottles. A three-tiered blue and white birthday cake sat on top, sparklers fizzing from each tier.

“Wow,” (Y/N) breathed. Malleus stood next to her, eyes sparkling and smiling so wide his fangs were visible. “Hornton, you really pulled out all the stops.”

“I’ll admit,” Leona said, sounding reluctant as he fell into one of the overstuffed leather chairs, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. “It’s not too bad.” (Y/N) thought he looked like a prohibition mob boss.

“I haven’t even been able to secure tickets for the Mr. Bluebird Express before,” Vil said, admiring the detailed work on the wainscotting. His hair was swept to the side, dressed in an elegant dark purple suit that went from fitted around his chest and arms to sweeping, almost skirt-like, around his legs.

“So this is what it feels like to be rich,” Ruggie smirked, standing next to the bar that seemed to have one fewer expensive bottles of bourbon than it did before. “I can see how you can get used to it.” He readjusted his fedora, ears poking out to twitch at the sides. As everyone filed into the dining car, the door clicked shut behind them.

After a moment, they felt the movement of the massive wheels below them, the train pulling away from the station with another whisted from the engine.

“Should there be staff?” Jamil asked. “A conductor or ticket taker?”

“We have the entire train reserved for ourselves,” Malleus said. “While the usual route has staff to attend to guests, as this is a shorter trip the train is limited to only the necessary attendants in the engine. Anything else we would need is supplemented by magic.”

As if waiting for his cue, sparkles swirled around the plates, food appearing and glasses filling out of nowhere.

(Y/N) slid into a booth at the far end next to the bar with Grim, Ace, and Deuce. Each booth was occupied by another group of four. Next was Riddle, Trey, Jamil, and Leona. Second was Kalim, Cater, Lilia, and Ruggie. Past them was Malleus, Sebek, Vil, and Rook. Fifth was Idia, Ortho, Floyd, and Epel. In the last booth were Azul, Jack, and Silver. The car filled with conversation and laughter, people frequently leaning over other booths to talk to the different groups. At one point, Floyd and Ortho started confiscating everyone’s salad forks to build a complicated tower by linking all their tines. Once everyone had finished each course, the remnants would be magically whisked away and replaced with the next, much to the annoyance of Grim who kept trying to lick his plate clean.

Finally, it was time for the centerpiece dessert. Both Jack and Rook held up the cake on its round silver platter, bringing it from the bar to (Y/N)’s table. Some of them slid out from their booths to crowd around (Y/N)’s table, the others standing or watching from their own. “Happy birthday to you~” Everyone started singing.

The train whistled, sharp and loud, reverberating down the train.

“Happy birthday to you!”

Outside the train, the twilight scenery went black as the train entered a tunnel, the only light the glow from the magical floating lamps and sconces in the car.

“Happy birthday, dear (Y/N)~”

The lights flickered, a few voices faltering to look up at the quivering illumination.

“Happy birthday to-”

The dining car plunged into darkness. Every light snuffed out at once, even the flares on the cake fizzling out at the same time. There were a few gasps of surprise, low murmurs of confusion.

“Hang on!” Cater called out. He already had his phone out, filming the song. With a quick swipe and tap, his phone light was on, sweeping it around the room. “I got it… huh?”

The train barreled out of the tunnel, blue evening light flooding back in through the windows at the same time the interior lights clicked back to life. There was a collective sigh of relief, the terror of uncertainty in the dark banished once again.

“That was weird,” (Y/N) said.

“Who cares?” Grim said, eyeing the cake. “Let’s eat!”

“Easy,” Deuce said. “(Y/N) gets the first sli-”

Kalim screamed. Everyone spun around to look at their booth. Kalim was half way standing in his seat, back pressed against the glass. His eyes were wide, locked in place on something next to him (Y/N) couldn’t see as it was blocked by the back of the booth. Jamil immediately darted forward, vaulting himself over the chair of his own booth to practically tackle Kalim out of the way and onto the floor. Jamil forced Kalim to look away, the latter's eyes bubbling with tears and he started sobbing into the formers’ dress shirt. Ruggie yelped, tripping over his own feet as he tried to quickly back away. He fell on his back, hat flying off his head.

“What?” (Y/N) said, panicked, standing. “What happened?”

Malleus turned to her, hand out and eyes wide, already pale face even paler. “(Y/N),” He said, and she could feel the seriousness of the situation from his use of her real name. “Don’t-”

But it was too late. A jerk of the train caused her to stumble closer to the far booth. Her arms pinwheeled out, trying to regain her balance. Still, she stumbled and fell on her knees in front of the booth. With the sound of Kalim crying behind her, and the gasps, strangled screams, and yells of the others in the group, (Y/N) looked up, straight into the cold ruby red dead eyes of Lilia Vanrouge.

The clatter of screams, shouting, and horrified rationalization dulled to an incoherent roar in her ears. She stared up at Lilia, brain slowing down, trying to rationalize what she was seeing. He was slumped over in his seat, face turned to the side to stare out unseeing, arms dangling limply at his sides. A silvery thin round disk protruded from just below his neck, lodged in his spine, blood dripping down the back of his white dress shirt. Shaking, her hand reached out, almost without her own volition. Just before her fingertips could tap Lilia’s hand, arms wrapped around her from behind, hauling her up and away. Deuce lugged her dead weight down the train car, depositing her back in a far booth facing away from Lilia’s body.

Lilia’s body. Lilia’s body. (Y/N) suddenly jerked up, head whipping around. “Where’s Silver?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck and pointed with his chin. Silver was sitting in his booth, head tilted back and eyes closed, asleep. (Y/N) wasn’t sure when his narcolepsy had taken over, but she hoped it was before they went through the tunnel. Ortho was sitting next to him, holding his hand. Idia stood between Ortho and Lilia’s booth, blocking his little brother’s line of sight, although he kept casting worried looks over his shoulder, whipping his head back down immediately after. Grim practically threw himself into (Y/N)’s stomach, burying his head into her middle. She clutched him tightly.

Leona came up to her booth, Ruggie close at his heels. “(Y/N),” Leona said. “Stay close to me, okay?”

“Okay.” She almost didn’t recognize her own trembling voice. Malleus was standing nearby, his back to her, staring out the window at the passing scenery. His shoulders were back, tense, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

“Hornton?” (Y/N) asked, hand reaching out to touch his arm. “Are you-?” Are you what? Are you okay? Of course not, no one was. Her mind zipped through a thousand possibilities of what to say, what might possibly be the right thing, but everything fizzled on her tongue. He looked at her, once, expression unreasonable, before turning to walk farther into the car.

“We need to call the engineer,” Malleus said, voice breaking through the icy tension in the room. “We’ll need to stop at the nearest station and contact the authorities.”

“I’ve got it,” Azul said, tugging his gloves down farther on his trembling hands. He cleared his throat before reaching for an old fashioned corded phone on the wall by the door to the next car. Everyone’s eyes were locked on him as he waited for the other end to pick up. After a moment, Azul’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. He looked down at the phone, then pressed the dial flip a few times, phone back to his ear. “The line is dead.” He winced at the phrase.

“What?” Sebek snapped. His eyes were red. Beads of blood dotted his lower lip from where he was biting it to keep from wobbling. He marched forward and shoved Azul out of the way, jerking the phone up to his ear. After a frustrated second, he snarled, slamming the phone back on the receiver. “Then we’ll just have to go tell them in person!”

“Are we able to go up through the train?” Riddle asked.

“There are fewer cars than normal,” Malleus said. “But we do have access to the entire train. I’m sure the engineer wouldn’t be expecting us, but I believe they’ll understand our circumstances.”

“This car is at the very end,” Jade said. “I believe there were three others between us and the engine.”

“We don’t all need to go,” Jamil said. He still had an arm around Kalim, who had tears silently tracking down his face. “There’s too many of us to move quickly. And some of us should stay with…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence.

“Two groups, then,” Jade said. “Enough to stay here and make sure the crime scene is preserved, and another to go to the front. That way we’ll have plenty of extra eyes watching our backs.”

“Crime scene?” Riddle echoed. “You’re not suggesting that we - that one of us is responsible for-”

“Who else? Razor sharp plates don’t just appear in people of their own accord.”

“I think,” Trey said. “It’s from the cake.”

“The cake?” Ruggie balked.

“It’s to separate the tiers, I think.” Trey nervously adjusted his glasses, falling back into something familiar to ground himself. “Bakers use them to keep the tiers from sinking into each other. Usually they’re not made of metal like that, of course. Look, the middle tier is already going down.”

They all looked over to the bar where the cake had been abandoned. Sure enough, the middle tier was leaning on one side, falling further into the bottom. There was a smear of frosting from where the separator plate had been yanked free.

“You didn’t make the cake?” Deuce asked.

“No,” Malleus answered for Trey. “I had it ordered to be delivered on board before we arrived. It was made by a local bakery near the station. I didn’t mean it as a slight, Clover. I didn’t want to distract anyone with work.” Trey lifted his hand, brushing away the concern.

The group quickly decided who would go up to the engine and who would stay behind. Malleus, Sebek, Vil, Jade, and Jack would go through the three other train cars up to the front, battering down the engine room door if they had too, while the rest of the group stayed.

“I don’t like this,” Ace said in a quiet voice to (Y/N). “Splitting up, I mean. It’s like no one’s ever seen a horror movie before.” Still, the group headed out in a solemn mood.

Someone had draped Lilia’s dark blue and lime green pinstripe suit jacket over him. It bulged awkwardly over the plate stuck in his spine. (Y/N) swallowed hard at a sudden wave of nausea.

The dining car was quiet, filled with the sounds of the wheels chugging underneath them and the whispered conversations of those left behind. Every once and a while there would be a muffled cry and sniff. No one really seemed to know what to do with themselves, ever switching before sitting stone still, fidgeting, or pacing around the car.

(Y/N) spotted Cater sitting on the floor near the door where they had entered, legs spread out in front of him, eyes locked on his phone. His forehead was creased in concentration, teeth worrying his lower lip. She tapped Leona’s arm so he could let her slide out of the booth and walked over to him.

“Cater?” (Y/N) asked.

Cater didn’t look up from his phone. He kept tapping it, dragging his finger to restart a video, watching, then rewinding it again.

“Cater?” She said again. This time he startled, looking up.

He flashed a warm smile that felt out of place in such a dour setting. “Hey, yeah, what’s up?”

‘What’s up?’ (Y/N) thought. Out loud, she said, “What are you watching?”

He showed her the screen as she sat next to him. “It’s the video I was taking earlier, when we were singing to you.”

(Y/N) felt a lump form in her throat. She watched everyone’s happy faces on the tiny screen, dread sloshing in her stomach in anticipation of what she knew was coming. The flickering lights, the black out, a murder in the dark. Right on cue, the screen turned black. She almost felt like she could see movement from the camera swinging around in confusion, the lens rapidly trying to adjust to the new lack of light. She closed her eyes hard, fighting back a lightheaded feeling.

Cater drew his phone back. “Sorry, I get that you wouldn’t want to see that.”

“I don’t understand,” She said, voice cracking. She sat down hard next to him. “Who would do this? How, even? He’s on the same level as Hornton, magic wise, I can’t imagine anyone sneaking up on him. And why?” Hot tears bubbled along her lashes. Cater put an arm around her and pulled her close. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I,” Cater said. “That’s why I was watching this. When I had my flashlight on, I thought I saw something weird. I’ve been trying to find it again. Maybe it could be a clue. Do you…Want to see?”

She pressed her lips together hard. Finally, she gave a stern nod. Cater shuffled closer, holding the phone back up to play the video from the beginning.

The camera swung up as the video started. It swept over the car, showing everyone smiling and jovial. A few of them stood, taking their positions as Jack and Rook collected the cake. (Y/N) saw Lilia catch the eye of the camera, giving a wink and waving. She gulped hard. Their singing came out in low, tinny volume from the phone speakers. (Y/N) felt strange as she watched the lights flicker, knowing what was about to happen, watching her own face blink and look up in confusion. Even though she knew it was coming, she still startled a little as the screen suddenly went black. The camera swung around in the dark, black shapes against a black background. Cater’s phone light turned on, sweeping across the room to briefly illuminate blurred figures. Shortly after, the lights came back on. Cater had focused back on (Y/N)’s table. She could see the smear on the cake frosting already, even though it was still being held up. Her heart dropped in her stomach as she heard Kalim’s scream. The camera whipped around to Lilia’s booth, just in time to catch Jamil leaping across to drag Kalim to safety. She saw herself fall in front of the booth, looking up at Lila. The camera focused on the scene for a handful of chilling seconds, before dropping down to the floor and cutting out.

“Did you see something?” She asked. She pointed at the screen, just after the phone light came on.

“Maybe? I think so, that’s why I was watching it back. I just can’t figure it out.”

“Well, two pairs of eyes are better than one, right? Play it again.” Cater pulled back on the recording. The video played out the same two more times. On the third, (Y/N) stopped him.

“Wait!” She said suddenly. “Go back! Just a few seconds.” Cater slowly pulled back the replay, the dark scene reversing frame by frame. “There! See?” She jabbed a finger at the screen.

Cater squinted. “I don’t see anything.”

“Exactly! That’s Lilia’s seat! He was there before the lights went out, and he was there when they came back on, but he’s not there when it’s dark!”

“Oh!” Cater said, excited. His face fell again. “What does that mean?”

“I… Have no idea. But it has to be important right? Was he still sitting at the booth before he was…” ‘Say it,’ (Y/N) thought. ‘If you’re going to have any chance of finding out what happened, you have to say it.’ “Before he was killed? Does that mean that someone moved him?”

Cater looked back down at the screen. “The lights were only off for-” He checked the video timeline. “Eleven seconds. I turned my flashlight on after about 6 seconds, here, see?”

“So not a very big window of time. And look, Kalim is sitting next to Lilia by the window and Epel is standing on the outside next to him. How would they have not noticed if he was moved?”

Cater bit his lip again. “You know,” He said slowly. “There’s something else that I-”

“Did I miss eating cake?” Silver said. He was rubbing his eyes, blinking at everyone’s shocked stares.

“Silver,” (Y/N) started, after several moments of tense silence. She felt responsible, somehow. That because it was her birthday party, she was the reason Lilia had been put into the exact right, or wrong, circumstances that lead to his death. She stood, holding her hands up as if she was going to confront a terrified animal. “It’s… I’m sorry, Lila is…”

“Father?” Silver asked. He stood, looking around the room. “Is he with everyone else? Where did they go?”

“No, Silver, I don’t know how to say this, but, but he-”

“(Y/N)!” Cater hissed, jumping up, fingers digging into her arm. She turned to him, Cater pointing frantically to the booth where Lilia’s body was. Or, rather, where Lilia’s body had been.

The seat was empty. Lila was gone.

Everyone immediately started looking around. (Y/N) knew it was useless from the beginning, but joined in anyway. What else were you meant to do when your recently deceased friend disappeared from a small room with only one door out?

“It’s just like the video!” She said. “Maybe this is the way he was moved during the blackout.”

“What video?” Jamil asked. (Y/N) and Cater told everyone about Lilia disappearing before, everyone crowding around the phone to see the video.

Silver gasped at the end, showing Lila’s body. “That…” He started. He shook his head. “No, that’s not real, it can’t be. Father wouldn’t-” He started blinking fast, looking around. “I need to find him.” Silver pushed his way out and barrelled through the door to the next car.

“We should go find the others anyway,” Riddle said. “To let them know about Lilia.”

“I’ll go,” (Y/N) volunteered.

“I’m coming with you,” Leona said. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t want you or anyone else alone.” Ace, Deuce, Cater, and Epel also volunteered.

The next car was a viewing car. The entire upper half was made of glass with a series of swiveling round backed chairs lining the sides. It would have been a beautiful place to spend the evening counting stars and watching the moon rise. The dark night outside seemed to encroach on their group and they rushed through the car to the next. The next car was a luggage car, stuffed with packages and cases from previous voyages. The lights were off. Leona flipped the switch several times, clicking uselessly.

“Watch your step,” He said.

The luggage car was stuffed with crates and pallets among other suitcases and hat boxes. A rough path had been cut through the center, and they had to walk single file. The light was hazy, only filtering in through the small windows in the doors at the front and back of the car.

“So,” Ace started, trying to break the unnerving silence. “Any idea how Lila could have been moved?”

“Maybe there’s some sort of hidden hallway?” Deuce theorized. “Or like a service entrance?”

“Isn’t that kind of a trope?” Epel said. “Secret passages?”

“That feels more like an old mansion sort of thing than a train, like Ramshackle,” Deuce said, “I can’t imagine there’d be any room.”

“I’ve found a couple, actually, in Ramshackle” (Y/N) said. “There’s one behind the bookcase in the guest room that leads upstairs. I think I might make it a second guest room, too, since it-” (Y/N) was cut off as she tripped. She caught herself just before she tumbled down. “Careful,” She said, looking back and aiming her phone flashlight to see what she had tripped over. “There’s something-”

She stopped short, words withering in her mouth. Her light trailed up a shoe, leading to a leg that ended abruptly at a crate. She took a sharp step backward, crashing into a luggage cart. It rattled behind her, something heavy and warm falling against her arm. Her heart already thundering, she turned to push it off. Only to be met by Jade’s face, lips going blue, eyes frozen open in shock, cut off at the waist in a pool of dark red, placed precariously on top of a suitcase.

She screamed, throwing herself backward, Epel clumsily catching her as they both stumbled away from the corpse. Panic quickly overtook the group as, between yelps and thundering hearts, they sped through the rest of the car, throwing open the door at the other end and launching themselves across the divide and into the next car. Ace pressed his back tightly against the door of the car, as if he could physically bar the image of Jade’s bifurcated body from their minds.

“(Y/N)?” Vil said, looking over the blundering group. The rest of the first team that had left to find the engineer looked back at them, confused. Vil took in their smaller group, the wide eyes and gasping mouths. His expression flitted between a mix of frustration, concern, and terror. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s- It’s Jade!” (Y/N) said, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as her voice scratched her throat. “We found his body!”

“What?” Jack said, ears going flat. “He just left. Are you sure?”

“Yes, we’re sure!” Ace snapped. “He was cut in half!”

Malleus’s hand on (Y/N)’s tightened as he helped her stand. “That’s not possible. We only sent him back to you all a minute ago.”

“The engine is empty,” Sebek said gravely, waving his hand at the door at the other end of the car to the engine room. “Jade was going to go back to the dining car and let you all know.”

“What did I say?” Ace said. “You can’t let people split up like this.”

“Wait,” (Y/N) said, looking around. “Where’s Silver?”

“He’s not still asleep in the dining car?” Sebek asked.

“He woke up and we told him what was going on,” Epel said. “He, you know, didn’t take it well. He ran out of the car this way to try and find you guys and we came after him.”

“It’s not like there’s anywhere else to go,” Deuce said. “He couldn’t have vanished into thin air between the dining car and here.”

“Speaking of disappearing,” Ace said. “Where are Cater and Leona?”

“Maybe they went the other way out of the car? Back the way we came in?” (Y/N) said.

“I told you!” Epel said. “There has to be some kind of secret passage! Maybe they went the same way whoever took Lilia went.”

“Who took Lilia?” Malleus asked.

(Y/N) tried to quickly summarize what had happened after the first group left, from Cater’s video, to Lilia’s body vanishing, to Silver charging ahead, to detailing finding Jade’s body in the luggage car.

Vil sighed sharply and ran a hand through his hair. “As much as I hate to admit it, Ace is right-”

“Hey!”

“We shouldn’t stay split up. Let’s regroup in the dining car. The train has to stop eventually. Either we can contact the police when we stop at the next station or if we pass through an area with cell service.”

(Y/N) clutched Grim to her chest at the idea of going back through the luggage car. She felt oddly ridiculous, like a child with a well loved stuffed animal asking their parents to check the closet for monsters. But how could she not feel the rising panic bubble in her chest at the thought of seeing one of her friend’s bodies again?

She jumped as Malleus brushed his fingers against her shoulder. He gave her a small smile, offering his arm. “Close your eyes and we’ll go through quickly,” He said in a low voice.

(Y/N) swallowed hard, threading her arm through his and pulling close, Grim clasped so close the heat from the blue fire in his ears warmed her face.

Whatever quiet conversation there was ceased immediately as they stepped back in the dark car. Phone lights came out, casting ghostly search lights across the car, bouncing on and over the clutter of bags and boxes. (Y/N) closed her eyes tight, pressing her face in Malleus’s arm.

“Jade’s not here,” Jack said.

(Y/N)’s eyes snapped open. “What?” She looked around the dark and cramped space. Sure enough, every body inside was breathing. She let go of Malleus’s arm and took a step forward. “No, wait, he was right here. He was like, half way though, right? I tripped over his legs right here.” She pointed to the floor where Jade’s legs had been splayed out. Only… No, wait, was that the same crate she had seen before? She scanned along the narrow walkway through the car, trying to find the familiar box, but she couldn’t find anything that matched the morbid memory in her head. The cogs in her brain churned. It was dark, but had these boxes been moved? Was this the same path they had taken through the car the first time? She turned back to the other first years. “You guys saw him too, right? I’m not just imagining things?”

“No, he was definitely here,” Deuce confirmed. “And besides, you still have some, uh, blood, right here.” He tapped his shoulder.

(Y/N) lifted her hand, touching the spot Deuce had indicated. Her fingers came away sticky, a sheen of red coating them in the low light. Jade’s blood must have dripped when his upper body fell against her. She felt her stomach clench and flip.

“Jade wouldn't be the first person to disappear tonight,” Epel said.

As they made their way through the observation car, with still no sign of Cater or Leona, (Y/N) felt her panic rise in anticipation of what might greet them in the dining car. Her heartbeat roared in her ears, muting any other sound. She felt clammy, breaking out in a cold sweat as Sebek reached for the door to the next car.

“There you all are,” Azul said in a relieved sigh. “What did the engineer say?”

No one said anything, the group who had stayed staring at the group who returned until the silence stretched and stretched, taught and uncomfortable.

Floyd’s head poked out from a booth, where he had been playing a card game with Riddle, Ortho, and Idia. “Where’s Jade?” No one answered. Several of them started shifting uncomfortably. Floyd frowned, eyebrows coming together. He stood. “Where’s Jade?”

“He-” (Y/N) started. She felt like she had a responsibility to break the news.

“We don’t know that,” Sebek interrupted. “He wasn’t there.”

“Lilia’s not here either,” Ace snapped. “But we’re pretty sure he’s dead, too.”

Azul stumbled back, going green, Floyd jumping up, teeth gnashing. The car exploded in a cacophony of raised voices, panicked questions and sharp words flying around. With a sinking feeling, (Y/N) realized Cater, Leona, and Silver weren’t present. They had vanished, too. And, if the only other ones who had disappeared were dead, what did that mean for them?

“I need some fresh air,” She murmured. She let go of Malleus, stumbling to the door at the back of the car. She pushed it open, standing on the tiny balcony as the rushing wind pulled at her hair and dress. She gripped the intricate wrought iron fence around the balcony until her knuckles went bloodless. She took deep, gulping breaths of the cold night air until her lungs hurt. She slumped forward, pressing her sweaty forehead against the cool metal.

She nearly jumped out of her skin as a hand touched her back. She whipped around to see Ace holding his hands up.

“Sorry, sorry,” He said. “Should have said something first.” Deuce stepped out behind him, sliding the door closed.

“It’s okay,” She sighed. “I just… needed a second.” The two of them stood on either side of her, quiet as they stared out at the rushing landscape, train tracks blurring together into a solid road beneath them.

“Here,” Deuce said, offering her a handkerchief from his blazer pocket. “For the… blood.”

“Right, thanks.” She dabbed at the spot, trying to think of a way to explain to Professor Crewel how the dress he had worked so hard on had been stained. Even if it was able to be cleaned, she wasn’t sure she would ever want to wear it again. Her mind wandered for a second, until her hand froze, pressed against the damp spot on her shoulder. She pulled the handkerchief back, staring at the red stain. And then licked it.

“Whoa!” Deuce exclaimed.

“(Y/N)! Gross!” Ace cringed.

“It’s not blood,” (Y/N) said. She shoved the handkerchief at them. “See? It smells and tastes sweet. It’s like some kind of syrup colored red.”

Ace cautiously leaned forward and sniffed. “I’m not going to pretend I know a ton about merfolk biology, but I don’t think they have corn syrup for blood.”

“Did you lean against anything else?” Deuce asked.

“Not that I noticed.” She groaned, head falling into her hands.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Ace muttered.

(Y/N) drummed her fingers against the railing. She stared down at the tracks rushing below them. Her eyes unfocused, trying to make her mind go blank instead of having every body and disappearance and unusual circumstance bounce around her head. Dirt and dust clouded behind the train, kicked up by the heavy wheels. Except… Suddenly, she jolted up so fast both Ace and Deuce jumped. “I need to check something,” She said. She spun around marching back into the dining car, the two boys close behind.

There were a couple of curious glances as she knelt by Lilia’s booth, everyone else keeping a wide berth from it. She looked underneath, running her hand along the bottom of the table, then across the booth seat, checking for any seams or latches. Her hand brushed along something soft on the edge of the table, where there was a smear of blue frosting.

“There was something in the video…” She said to herself. The idea itched in her mind. There was something missing, something she knew Cater must have noticed. Is that why he had been spirited away? But she had watched the same video with him multiple times. Wouldn't she have seen whatever clue she was sure was there?

Unless… The ideas crashed together all at once, almost too cluttered for her to organize them. Cater had been the only one with a light, the only one able to see around the darkened car. So, what if he saw something in the dark, something that wouldn’t show up on camera? Then, watching it back, the discrepancy would have subconsciously stuck out.

She pulled herself out from under the table, chewing on her bottom lip. She scanned the room. Her eyes passed over then jerked back to Jamil, setting down an empty glass on a side table. Tiny white sparkles flitted around the glass as it magically refilled.

Her hip jammed into the table as she whirled around, pulling her phone out of her bedazzled clutch. She grabbed a discarded glass from the table and drained it in two gulps. As she set it back on the table, she hit the record button on her phone, holding it close to the glass. The sparkling magic swirled around the glass, just as it had been doing all night.

“(Y/N)?” Riddle asked, confused.

She replayed the video, only a few seconds long. Sure enough, she watched the glass refill, but the magic around it was invisible.

Without a word, she whirled around and marched to the door to the observation car.

“Wait!” Ace called at her retreating back. “Come on, what have I been saying about splitting up?”

He, Deuce, and Grim followed behind her as she quickly moved through the next car to the luggage car.

“Epel was right,” (Y/N) called over her shoulder to them. “People don’t just vanish.”

“So you think there are secret passages?” Grim asked.

“Not exactly.” She pulled her phone out as they stepped into the luggage car, tapping her light on. She swept it around the room, dust motes floating in the air. “Back in my world, movies use a lot of cgi for special effects. But there are some older ones that use practical effects, puppets and makeup and stunts. They take a lot more work, but audiences also really like them, and they generally look better since they’re tangible, really there with the actors. Recently, some movies have been combining the two, computer generated images with physical props.”

“So?” Ace asked, confused.

“So,” She said. She stopped in front of a pile of luggage. She pushed them aside, not caring as they clattered in an untidy heap on the floor. Behind them was a wooden crate, a thin line of sticky red smeared along the bottom. “I think we’ve been thinking about this the wrong way. Whoever has been doing this is using a combination of methods, both magic and non-magic.”

“Magical murders?” Deuce said. “That’s like what the Arcane Special Defense Unit investigates.”

“But if they’re using magic to commit the murders,” Ace said. “Why use non-magic, too?”

(Y/N) crouched down, turning the crate around. Her heart clenched in her chest as she revealed a hole cut into the cut just above the bottom. “I think I might have an idea, but…” But she didn’t want to say it out loud. She didn’t want to admit she was suspecting one of her friends. She didn’t want to admit that one of them might, in fact, be capable of something like this.

Grim groaned. “Why does this kind of stuff always happen to us?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Ace said.

“I mean,” Deuce said, rubbing the back of his head. “He’s kind of right. There’s Overblots, that monster in the mines, kidnappings, that one Halloween in the Spectral Realm, that other Halloween in Fleur City where our magic got eaten, the VDC, that one time there was a magical virus and we all got turned into kids, not to mention all the potion accidents in alechemy class-”

“Wait!” (Y/N) shouted. “Say that again!”

Deuce looked confused. “Uhh, that we kind of seem to attract trouble everywhere?”

“No, about Halloween! That’s it! I’ve got it!”

“You know who the murderer is?” Grim asked.

(Y/N) was grinning way too big for such a morose topic. “Yes! And I think I know where everyone who disappeared is. But I need help from you guys. Have you ever heard of a parlor scene?”

(Y/N) explained her revelation to the boys, quickly giving them instructions to meet back with her in the dining car later. Separating, (Y/N) stopped in the observation car, taking a deep breath. Then, she flung the door open, striding into the room.

“Alright, everyone!” (Y/N) said sternly. “It’s time we wrap this whole thing up!”

“You know who killed Jade and Lilia?” Azul asked, eyes red.

“In a way,” (Y/N) said. She clasped her hands behind her back, walking through the room. “Let’s start from the beginning of the night. First, we all board a train with no conductor. The cake is made with a dangerous metallic disk, brought on board before all of us arrived. The lights just so happen to all go out at the exact moment we enter a dark tunnel, giving the murderer the perfect opportunity to strike. The crime, then, must have been planned ahead of time by someone who knew the exact route, timing it perfectly to when the cake would have been closest. Then we’re separated, leading to a locked room where Jade is murdered. Not just that, but cut in half and placed in such a way that should have taken way longer than the brief time he was unaccounted for. And none of that accounts for the disappearances, of both the deceased and the theorized living. We’re on a moving train, the only entrance and exit carefully monitored by those in the car, so it would, or should, be pretty obvious if anyone were trying to sneak out, especially if they were carrying someone.

“Our culprit, then, is someone who has had complete and perfect control of the train and those on board the entire time we’ve been here. Someone who not only smuggled the murder weapon in, who knew we were isolated, who knew when the train would enter the tunnel, who purposefully separated us to orchestrate the second murder, and who has the ability to make multiple people vanish into thin air.”

Everyone was getting restless, shuffling and looking around, casting suspicious looks at the only person (Y/N) could be referring to. (Y/N) took one more steadying breath. Facing the culprit straight on, she lifted an accusing finger. “The only possibility is you, Malleus Draconia!”

There was a collective gasp as Sebek jumped up, inserting himself between (Y/N)’s allegation and his prince. “How dare you!” He shouted.

Malleus’s eyes were steely cool as he looked down at her. “Oh?” He said. “That’s quite the accusation, child of man. I do hope you have evidence to support your theory.”

(Y/N) looked at Malleus with a scowl, hands on her hips. Before long, her lips twitched as she started to laugh. She whipped away a stray tear with the heel of her hand. “Hornton, you really have a twisted sense of humor, you know that?”

Sebek’s head whipped back and forth between the two, Malleus joining in with her laugh. “Wait, what? My lord, you, did you really…?”

“It might seem pretty complicated on the surface, but it’s actually pretty simple, just like a lot of old fashioned murder mysteries,” (Y/N) said. She turned, shouting out, “Okay, come on in, boys!”

Through the door that led to the end of the train, Ace, Deuce, and Grim burst in, dragging Lilia, Jade, Cater, Silver, and Leona with them.

“Hello, everyone!” Lilia said jovially. “I do hope you haven’t been having too much fun without me.”

There was a blur of teal and black as Floyd launched himself across the car, tackling Jade in a squeezing hug. He started sobbing, fat, dramatic tears now freely flowing down his face.

“My,” Jade said, eyes touched with compassion, petting his brother’s hair. “I wasn’t expecting such a welcome.”

“Jade,” Azul said, trying to sound stern despite the crack in his voice. “If you ever do something like that again, I’ll fry you up and add unadon to the menu.”

Jade placed a hand to his chest. “Aww, you do care.”

Kalim was jumping between Cater and Lilia, hugging them close, holding their faces to double and triple check they were unharmed, and babbling through tears.

“So,” Leona said, carelessly dropping into a booth, hands behind his head, a smug smile on his face. “I guess everything went according to plan?”

“Does anyone want to fill us in on what is going on?” Idia asked desperately.

“Gladly,” (Y/N) said. “That’s the point of a parlor scene, after all, pointing out the culprit and explaining exactly how they committed the crime. First, we need to establish that almost everyone who disappeared was an accomplice.”

“Almost everyone?” Jack asked.

Cater shyly raised his hand as (Y/N) said, “Cater was the odd one out, but I’ll get to that in a second. Before we even got to the train station, Malleus had recruited Lilia, Leona, Silver, and Jade to his plan. He’s the one who had the metal disk brought in with the cake, a cake he specifically ordered. And speaking of the disk, Lilia, do you still have it?”

With a smirk and a flourish, Lilia produced the silver disk, bloody colored corn syrup cutting across it in a gorey line. He ran his finger along the edge before pressing an almost invisible button in the middle. The side of the disk suddenly compacted, retreating in so the disk became a half circle.

“I’m guessing it’s some kind of stage prop,” (Y/N) continued. “It looks perfectly solid and deadly until you activate the hidden mechanism. Lilia himself was the one who retrieved the disk from the cake, since he has amazing night vision. There was a smear of frosting under the table where you must have brushed your hand after getting the disk, Lilia. But, this was also the reason Cater got involved.” (Y/N) held out her hand and Cater handed her his phone, the incriminating video already pulled up. (Y/N) held the phone up, panning it around the room so everyone was able to see. “Lilia wouldn’t have been able to simply walk over to the cake, he was boxed in by Kalim and Epel, not to mention everyone else standing around. So, he teleported. But there’s a problem. When Lilia or Hornton teleport, there’s these magic green sparks. Since Cater was already looking around to film, he would have seen these sparks. But he wasn’t paying close attention to such a small detail while we were all in a panic with the lights going out. When he watched the video back, they would have stuck out subconsciously in his mind and it would have been confusing as to why the video didn’t perfectly match up with his memory. And that’s because those kind of magic sparks don’t show up on camera. Eventually, Cater would have connected the discrepancy, possibly revealing the whole plot early, which is why he had to go.”

Cater shrugged. “I literally figured it out as soon as we got in the luggage car. Too bad Leona here tackled me out of the way.”

“I can’t believe you went along with one of Malleus’s plans,” Ruggie grumbled, casting a strong side eye at Leona.

Leona shrugged nonchalantly. “It gave me a chance to get a nap between everything. And I thought it would be really funny.” He grinned at Ruggie’s glare.

“If you’ll remember,” (Y/N) continued. “It was Hornton who suggested we separate and go try and find the engineer, an engineer he knew from the beginning wasn’t on the train. The whole point of splitting up was to get the next murder ready. Back in the dining car with the rest of us, Silver ‘woke up,’ when in reality he had been awake this whole time. He was meant to serve as a distraction, giving Lilia a chance to teleport away and set up Silver storming out to find the other group. At the front of the train, when everyone realized we were the only ones aboard, Jade would volunteer to go back. He and Silver would meet up in the luggage car and stage the next scene for us to find. There were boxes with holes cut out. Silver hid in one with his legs sticking out, exactly in the middle of the path so we would trip over them, and Jade stood in one so only his upper half was visible. The lights had been tampered with beforehand so it would be too dark for us to pay close attention, not to mention the added panic of thinking we had just found another one of our friends dead.”

Azul smacked Jade’s arm. “Why in the deep blue sea would you agree to something like that?”

“Oh, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be dead,” Jade said with a smile.

“Ace, Deuce, Grim, Epel, and I all ran one way,” (Y/N) continued.

“While I’m guessing Leona grabbed Cater and went the other. As for how they disappeared, I’m guessing Lila had something to do with it, too.”

Lilia clapped his hands. “I did! I was waiting in the luggage car for you all. You wouldn’t have seen me hanging from the ceiling. Once you all had left, I grabbed the others and we teleported out to our hiding spot!” He stretched his back. “I had to make a few trips, though. These old bones aren’t as spry as they used to be.”

“But,” Ortho asked. “Where did you all go?”

“That’s the last secret,” (Y/N) said. “There’s a secret caboose car! When I was out on the balcony outside this car, I noticed that the dust jumping around was behaving oddly. If you paid close attention, you could see the dust and dirt swept up by the train bouncing off something invisible. My guess is there was a secret 5th car added to the end of the train that everyone was waiting in. That’s where I sent these guys,” She waved to Ace, Deuce, and Grim. “To find everyone.”

“You’re lucky we like you so much,” Ace said. “It was insane jumping off the back of the dining car when I couldn’t see where I was landing.”

“But…Why?” Vil asked, perfect mouth pulled into a perfect frown. “Why do all this? Why put us through all this stress? Why make us think we were trapped with a murderer?”

(Y/N) snapped her fingers. “That’s what I kept getting caught up on, too. When I started figuring everything out, that was the only part that didn’t fit. I couldn't, wouldn’t, believe that Hornton would intentionally hurt any of us. But then Deuce said something that made it all click.”

“Yeah!” Deuce said proudly. “What did I say, again?”

“Halloween! More specifically, the first Halloween I was at NRC. After we got rid of the Magicam Monsters, do you remember what happened?”

“We all went to the Spectral Realm,” Sebek said slowly. “Where we thought people had been kidnapped and possessed by ghosts.”

“Which turned out to be Malleus pretending to be possessed to gather us all together for a Halloween party,” Riddle finished.

“LIke I said,” (Y/N) said. “A twisted sense of humor.”

“But a murder?” Trey said, fiddling with his glasses. “That’s still pretty extreme.”

(Y/N) sighed. “And that’s the last part. This whole thing might be my fault. I’m guessing I gave you the idea, Hornton, when I was talking about that mystery novel from my world, Murder on the Orient Express?”

He smiled wide, eyes glittering in pleasure. “I thought it would be a fine surprise. Anyone can read a mystery. It’s another matter entirely to be in the middle of one. But there is one more thing you didn’t catch.” Malleus snapped his fingers. The blurring scenery outside warped and spun, like sand being shaken in an hourglass, before settling back down. He opened the door, revealing the train station they had all boarded from. “We never actually left the station.”

Everyone clambered out of the train, some much more quickly than others to put as much distance between themselves and it as fast as possible. Inside the atrium, there was a new cake, sans trick metal disks, with candles flickering gently. The cake was quickly sliced up and served as Malleus directed everyone back to the train platform. As the group ate cake, fireworks burst in the sky, casting glorious multicolored lights across their faces.

“Thank you, Hornton,” (Y/N) said. “This is beautiful. But-” She suddenly punched his arm, her face as serious as she could make it. “If you ever make me think that my friends are hurt or in danger again, I’ll make you regret it.”

“Of course, dear child of man.”

“Don’t ‘of course’ me. I’m threatening you. Be threatened.”

“Of course. Happy birthday, (Y/N), and many more besides.”

156 notes · View notes

acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year ago

Text

Bluebird — Azriel x Reader — Part IX

Summary: Deciding to accept Azriel's offer, Reader's world as they know it is about to change. In more ways than one.

Click here to be added to the Bluebird Taglist! Please remember to check your settings and make sure you can be tagged! 💕

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: Some suggestions of smut and heavy petting, but nothing too major!

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Azriel stared out of the huge wall-length windows of the River House, watching shadows move in the sunlight that bathed the estate.

He hadn’t been to bed.

In the mere hours since he’d left the human realm, leaving Y/N, their conversation and his offer behind…his mind was too crowded to sleep.

So he’d come to the River House, wind still clinging to his skin and clothes from hours of aimlessly flying, and found his family gathering for breakfast.

“Where have you been?” Cassian had asked him.

“Just flying.” Had been Azriel’s explanation. The questioning looks he’d earned in response had told him they all suspected something more was going on with him.

And how right they were. He didn’t know why he was being cagey, why he couldn’t just be open with them about the human woman who had utterly captivated him—

It was scary, he supposed. To step out of the bubble they had around them, just the two of them.

But if Y/N did agree to come across the Wall with him…it was time to be open, honest.

As if on cue, a kick landed on his shin. Amren.

“Cassian is supposed to be the absentminded one, shadowsinger,” she drawled. “Are you present?”

Cassian grinned at the jibe. “Someone’s grumpy because she’s hungry. Poor baby.” His eyes slid to Azriel, ignoring Amren’s glare. “Our miniature friend is right, though. What are you daydreaming about?”

Azriel became acutely aware of every present pair of eyes on him. Rhys’s. Feyre’s. Cassian’s and Mor’s, Amren’s and Elain’s. If Nesta had been present, she’d probably have stared, too.

Az cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. Never comfortable with so much attention on him. “There…uh…”

Rhys frowned, realising, at once, that whatever this was held weight. “Az?” he angled his head.

He must have been pale, because Feyre frowned and asked, “Azriel, are you well?”

He didn’t know why he was fumbling this so much. Perhaps because for all he loved his family, for all he’d stared centuries down with them, his feelings were things that he’d always kept tightly locked away, and they had respected that. If he wanted them to know something, they would know. If not, they wouldn’t ask. It was how it had always been.

But this was different.

He was serious about Y/N, and his first step in proving that was to tell those closest to him about her.

He cleared his throat again, bracing his arms on the table. “There’s something I want you all to know.”

“We all know you have the biggest wingspan, boy,” Amren speared a slice of melon. “It’s hardly breakfast conversation—”

“Amren.” Mor cut her off brusquely. She was staring intently at Az. Could tell this wasn’t the time for jokes. “Go ahead, Az.”

Azriel clenched his fists at his sides. “I…I have fallen for someone,” he swallowed a lump down, far out of his comfort zone. “I’ve fallen in love with someone. A woman. A human woman.”

Silence.

The faces of his family gazed back at him, a mosaic of expressions varying from surprise to confusion to the twitching of baffled amusement. They were waiting for an explanation, or some indication that this was a rare, random joke that Azriel had decided to crack. And Az found that he couldn’t bear them considering that. He squared his shoulders, the severity not moving from his face.

“Her name his Y/N,” he continued, heart thudding in his chest. “She hails from a village in the human lands, and she’s magnificent. She helps run her father’s inn. She plays piano stunningly…” stop talking, stop talking, stop talking. Facts were just spilling from his lips, dumping themselves on his friends. He clamped his lips shut, squeezing his hands together again.

And once more, silence.

Until Cassian peered closely at him and stated, “You’re not joking, are you?”

The shadowsinger shook his head. “No.”

Rhysand’s chair creaked as he sat up straight. “Well…how did you meet this woman?”

“When you sent me to the human lands to get an idea of the unrest there. I heard her playing piano late at night and I…I went back to hear more. And I kept going back, despite you telling me not to. I’m sorry for going against your order, Rhys, but I’m not sorry for the reason that I did.”

The High Lord and Lady shared a glance, clearly communicating mind-to-mind. Az wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they were saying.

Mor cleared her throat, coaxing Az’s eyes to her beautiful face. There was kindness there, warmth. “And you say you love her, Az?”

“I do, Mor. Since I first met her, I’ve fallen harder and harder.” His cheeks burned a furious red. “I can’t deny that that is what I’m feeling. And that’s why I want to share this with you all.”

The initial shock seemed to dissipate a little as shoulders around the table relaxed. Mor smiled broadly, and Cassian quickly followed.

“No way,” the Illyrian General chirped. “That’s amazing, Az.”

“We’re happy for you, Az, of course,” Feyre added. “Just a little surprised.”

“You should bring her here to meet us,” Amren grinned, flashing white teeth. “If she can hack it.”

Her remark was as close as she would come to congratulating Azriel — but the sentiment was there, hidden amongst the words.

Of them all, Elain was the only one who hadn’t spoken.

And Az…Az, for some reason, avoided looking at her.

“Funny you should say that, Amren,” he quickly said. “I’ve invited her to come here tonight, after she’s closed up the inn. I want her to see Velaris at night, in all its brilliance.”

“So we’ll get to meet her,” Mor grinned wider. “This is great—”

“If—if she’s available to come, that is.” The shadowsinger quickly cut in.

Because he had to be realistic and still consider the possibility that Y/N would reject his offer. And if that was the case…well, he couldn’t bear to think of it right now.

He certainly couldn’t bear to share that particular detail with the others. Not just yet.

“Well,” Rhys offered a smile, “if she is available, we’ll be delighted to meet her, Az. Really.”

“Yes,” Elain’s voice, soft and unconvincing, finally drifted around the table. “We will.”

At the same moment, Azriel’s gaze drifted to take her in. She looked…shocked. Perhaps a little perturbed.

But for what reason? She and Lucien were giving things a go. Shouldn’t Azriel be able to do the same?

He tore his eyes away from her, dipping his chin in quiet acknowledgement of her comment. That was all he could offer right then.

“I hope she comes,” Feyre commented, sipping her drink. Her voice was bright, enthusiastic.

“So do I,” Azriel agreed.

Gods, he really did.

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Ale sloshed over the lip of a tankard, joining the smattering of droplets that were already coating the floor and making it sticky. The rowdy men in your line of sight didn’t seem to notice the mess they were making amidst their rowdiness. They’d been here a good few hours, now. Their eyes had long turned glazed, their speech slurred.

It was all background noise.

Background noise, as you stood behind the bar, staring into space. Time was ticking by, the clock hands crawling steadily closer to when Azriel would arrive and wait for you with hope.

Ten o’clock chimed. Two hours to go. Were you going to join him? You weren’t sure. You’d been contemplating it the entire day, on so few hours sleep. You’d gone through the motions, done your jobs, been that normal, plain young woman who was in charge of The Bluebird Inn. You’d compiled pros and cons in your head, the list of them growing with each thought.

Pros and cons, however, seemed not to come into a situation driven so heavily by desire.

You wanted to believe Azriel so badly — believe that he was good. Was it so out of the question that such a thing could be the case? It didn’t diminish what you had seen out on the road with your father, but…

But after weeks of no contact, having Azriel close enough to touch last night…it had you hoping, once more, that both things could be true. That the world was not so black and white, and there was colour out there, a world of colour that Azriel could fly you right into—

Before you realised what you were doing, your hand was grasping the bell behind the bar. You tugged at the rope, causing a distinct ringing to cut through the arrogant raucous of the men.

“Last orders!” you called.

Every pair of eyes swivelled to blink at you. “What?” One man asked.

“Last orders,” you repeated.

“But it’s only ten o’clock! You don’t close until midnight!”

It was an effort not to roll your eyes. This group had been here since they’d stumbled in from their day’s work. The idea of cutting their drinking short was inconceivable to them.

But you were going. You were going to join Azriel, and go across the Wall, and experience things you’d never experienced, whether it was a good idea or not.

“I’m closing early tonight,” you gave a shrug.

The brute that had been spilling ale all over the floor gaped at you. “Why?”

Good question. You couldn’t exactly tell them the truth, and if this was going to get back to your father, you at least needed a valid excuse—

“I’m unwell,” you tried unconvincingly. “Sorry.”

Swine-like eyes narrowed on you. “You don’t look unwell, girl.”

“…It’s my cycle.”

A silent pause. And then, in an instant, every man in the room was on his feet. You tried not to smile in triumph; it worked every time.

They couldn’t leave quick enough, as though, if you truly were on your cycle, it was somehow contagious. You saw the last customer out of the door and bolted it shut. Waited until their chatter disappeared into the distance before you turned and began a frantic cleanup mission.

This was…mad. Truly, thrillingly mad. A reckoning of sorts, you imagined, because crossing that boundary from one realm into another was like sealing a fate. There was no coming back from this — this, that was not merely dipping your toe into the world of the fae, but submerging yourself in it, taking a deep gulp of air and disappearing beneath its surface. A nerve-wracking prospect, but…also an exciting one.

And didn’t it prove to you that you still trusted Azriel at least a little? You had to, surely, to be so willing to take his hand and let him pull you into the unknown.

Perhaps…perhaps you were tired of having that little bit of doubt. Tired of wondering what might be out there, beyond your meagre existence. This trip would surely put those doubts to bed, one way or another.

Two hours until Azriel’s arrival seemed both too much time and not enough at all. You filled it with your usual closing duties, making quick work of tidying up and making sure the inn was spotless. Afterwards, you would ordinarily spend some time at the piano, or simply retire to bed. Tonight, your feet carried you upstairs to get ready.

You combed your hair and changed your outfit choice too many times, not once recognising the girl who stared back at you in the mirror. She was somebody bold and daring — somebody willing to question what she’d always known.

And you wanted to be her, no matter the fears twisting your stomach.

Once ready, there wasn’t much time left to wait. You quelled your nerves by knocking back a glass of whiskey and welcoming the burn. Your eyes stayed on the clock. Eleven-thirty. Thirty-five. Forty. Fifty-five.

When you heard the distant chimes of the village clock announcing midnight, you felt that familiar sensation of awareness. Like an ember under your skin, it burned, and it spread.

You wiped whiskey from your lips and slipped out of the door, stepping into the courtyard. You were cold, despite the warm night.

And even colder when you felt the gust of air that came from a descending figure, landing feather-light in front of you.

Azriel was almost too beautiful to bear.

You stared at him with an intensity you couldn’t keep a lid on. And he stared back at you, took in your shirt and breeches, your braided back hair, your shoes. He clocked within a second that you were dressed to go out — a breath of relief forced its way out of him.

“You’re coming?” he breathed, and then shook his head, seeming to remember his manners. “Sorry. Hello.”

You swallowed. “Hello.”

He paused. Dared a step closer. “I half expected to find you in your nightgown. Or to not see you at all.”

“I…contemplated it. Not coming, I mean.”

Another step. “And what tipped the scales in my favour?”

You sucked in a breath, inhaling his scent. He was close enough to touch, now, and the smell of wind mixed with his natural aroma, creating a dizzying concoction that, for a moment, had you forgetting how to speak.

You shook yourself out of it, blinking a few times. “I think I’m tired. Tired of…only knowing what I’ve been told. I think it’s time I saw things for myself.”

Azriel’s broad shoulders seemed to relax a little. A beat passed of heavy silence, heavy eye contact. He stared at you like you were the only person left in the entire world.

And then you jolted just a little, as cold, scarred fingers touched yours in a light, tentative brush. He waited to see if you would pull away.

You didn’t.

Those fingers explored more. Wrapped around yours. Laced with yours. And then Azriel was holding your hand in his.

“Let me share my world with you,” he whispered.

Maybe it was the weight of his hand, or maybe the raw pleading in his tone. Whatever it was…you knew you didn’t need any more time to consider.

“Yes.” Was all you managed to respond. “Yes.”

Just like that, Azriel was yanking you closer, pulling your body flush to his. You waited to feel your feet leave the ground, for him to lift you into the air.

It took you a moment to register that his arms were winding around you tightly in an embrace. That it was a hug he’d so fiercely pulled you into.

He held you, both firmly and gently, his chin pressed to the top of your head, his hand cradling the back of it. You were stunned, stiff as a statue — but then you were sinking into his hold and welcoming its security, its…passion.

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am,” Azriel murmured, pulling back to gaze at you. “Truly — thank you. For trusting me with this.”

“I haven’t made any decisions yet,” you pointed out. “I just want to see for myself…if what you’re saying is true.”

But even as you spoke, you knew it wasn’t that simple. Heading across the Wall with Azriel was sealing a fate far bigger than you’d stopped to consider. Whether you were ready for it was anyone’s guess.

The shadowsinger took your words in his stride, nodding. His hand found yours again. “Shall we go?”

You were really doing this. The idea made your head spin.

But you did not pull away. You did not run back inside, no matter how much a tiny part of you screamed at you to do so. Perhaps you were stronger than that now.

“Yes,” you nodded, and braced yourself. “We shall.”

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Flying was precisely as you remembered — exhilarating and terrifying and cold. The night sky eddied past you in a star-streaked blur, and you were soaring, hurtling forwards towards a world unknown.

You and Azriel did not speak. He seemed content to leave you in your thoughts, though you felt his gaze on you more than once, drinking you in. You couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking. Whether he deliberately chose to press you firmly against him and rub soothing circles into the small of your back, or whether it was a subconscious thing.

You closed your eyes at one point, focusing on the feeling of the chilled wind on your face.

But it was another feeling that had you suddenly alert. Opening your eyes again.

It was hard to explain, but…something like a staticky charge crackled and sparked. You knew that the Wall was not a physical thing to behold, but rather an invisible barrier…yet somehow, you knew that was what you were feeling. Like a huge sign in bold, screaming at you: TURN BACK. DO NOT COME ANY CLOSER.

“I can feel it, too,” Azriel spoke into your ear, as though he’d read your thoughts. It was the first words that had left him since he’d carried you to the skies, and they were soothing and warm against you. “It’s the magic. Those who built the Wall abhorred the idea of humans and fae alike crossing over. I think the feeling it offsets is supposed to repel people.”

You held onto him a little tighter as the feeling grew stronger. “Clearly it doesn’t work.”

“No.” His eyes found yours. “Not when there are such enticing reasons to cross.”

You were thankful that the wind put a stop to the furious blush that crept up your neck. You stared forward, and Azriel’s arms tightened around you, and you knew that you were about delve into another realm.

“Ready?” he murmured, before that charge thrust its way through your body like a bolt of lightning.

It was brief and yet nauseating. Your stomach lurched, your head spinning. And then, as if clearing fog, it was gone. You had the distinct feeling of being someplace completely alien — a place where the grass was greener, the scents richer. A place where magic was the blood in its veins, snaking through the ground beneath you and breathing vibrant life into the land.

But you had barely a chance to take in your surroundings before Azriel was coaxing your eyes back to him.

“Now that we’re in Prythian,” he said, seeming to visibly relax, “I’ll winnow us from here.”

You gave the briefest glance to your surroundings — a forest so like the many in the human realm, and yet also something more. The thrum of dangerous life seemed to lurk just beneath its surface, and with the moon bearing down on you, you didn’t much like the idea of waiting around to see what might emerge from the dark. You dipped your head into a nod, and Azriel’s arms tightened around you.

But before he could make a move, you were speaking, stopping him in his tracks. “There’s something I don’t understand.”

He paused, head angling curiously. It made a few dark hairs slide across his forehead, and the urge to reach out and touch the silken strands was a burning one.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“You want to show me your home, but why show me at night time, when the world is asleep?” Besides the fact that this was the only time you could sneak away from the prying eyes of villagers.

But Azriel’s mouth seemed to lift into a subtle, beautiful smile. One that was telling — but telling of what?

“Velaris does not sleep,” he said, and then you were disappearing into starlight.

A brief burst of darkness that lurched you from place to another. The feeling of both flying and falling, of being nowhere and everywhere all at once. And then your feet were suddenly on solid ground.

You didn’t realise you’d closed your eyes until the sounds hit you first. Distant music, mingled with crisp laughter. The sounds of enjoyment, fulfilment. You snapped your gaze open to put a picture to what you were hearing.

You went so preternaturally still, you could almost be mistaken as fae.

You must have been perched upon a viewpoint, to see the city in its entirety like this — but not too far up to miss the details. Restaurants teeming with activity both inside and out front, gatherings of customers who talked and smiled and laughed without a care in the world. Vendors selling their wares despite the late hour, peddling anything from food to wooden carvings to flowers. People wrapped in each other’s arms and dancing merrily to a song that a young female strummed on a lute in the busy street.

If not for the dark blanket of stars above your head, you could be forgiven for thinking it was daytime. Your shoddy little village was never this bright nor light, no matter the hour on the clock.

This was Velaris, and it truly did not sleep.

You stared and stared and stared, for so long that your vision began to blur and smear the lights below into swirling shapes. It was almost easy to forget you were alone, just you observing this beautiful, seemingly perfect world. But a hand touched your arm.

“Would you like to take a walk?” Azriel asked, coaxing you to look at him.

Such palpable hope sat within his gaze that you couldn’t bear to look away. And when you nodded your agreement, that hope shifted into damn near elation.

The city seemed to welcome you into its arms as you began a slow stroll right through the heart of it. Azriel gave you your space, always remaining a few paces away. You could have sworn, in your periphery, that you caught him clenching his hands now and then, as though he didn’t know what to do with them. As though all he wanted was to reach out to you.

But he left you to acquaint yourself with the sights and sounds and sensations of Velaris. Never had you been amongst so many fae, and you half expected them to sniff out your mortality, to turn and stare or even make a grab for you. If they noticed you were not one of them, they paid it no mind, barely casting you a glance. Some of them greeted Azriel cheerily as they made merry and socialised. Not a drop of misery seemed to taint the blood of this living, pulsing place.

You came to a stop on a grand bridge that arched over a glinting river, its waters stretching further out than your human vision could comprehend. Only a moment after you leaned against the carved balustrade, Azriel was emerging in your peripheral vision, stopping beside you and mirroring your stance.

You could feel his gaze on you. And after a moment, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

A slow, stunned shake of your head was all you could manage. That was a question that had many different answers. You weren’t sure which one to give.

But you found yourself turning to him, your brow pinched, lips parted. “I don’t understand how any of this works. What…what is this place?”

Velaris, obviously — you knew that much. But was the entire fae realm like this? Was this what had been hiding on the other side of the Wall in the centuries since it was established?

Azriel seemed to think on your question for a moment, combing through his answer. He angled his body towards yours, the way his hands twisted around each other hinting that he was…nervous.

“When I took you flying the first time, I mentioned that Prythian is divided into seven courts,” he explained slowly. “Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, Dawn, Day and Night. Do you remember what else I told you?”

How could you forget? You’d turned it over in your mind enough that the words had begun to fray at the seams.

“You said you’re from the Night Court. That you’re part of the High Lord’s inner circle. You’re his spymaster.” Your gaze swept around. “So this is the Night Court.”

Azriel dipped his chin. “It is. But it’s a city in the Night Court. A secret, guarded city. There’s more out there than just this.”

“Secret and guarded? Why?”

For a moment, silence stretched between you that felt as long as the winding bridge. You found yourself focusing on the ebb and flow of the water beneath you, watching its languid dance. Until warm fingers landed on your arm.

The touch — tentative and gentle — coaxed your gaze back to Azriel. You studied him, drank in the sincerity and openness on his face. This was hard for him, you realised — to be so forward, to bare all. He was, perhaps, as guarded and secretive as this city itself. Perhaps more.

But his soft hazel eyes told you that he wanted to push through that difficulty. For you.

“It’s secret and guarded,” he answered huskily, “because it is beautiful and good, and the entirety of the Night Court is not. The entirety of Prythian is not. There are other places like this, of vibrancy and love and light, and then there are places of pure, evil darkness. Places that I would never dream of you venturing. They exist as truly as the good places do. As Velaris does.”

Once again, your eyes took in the area around you. On the other side of the bridge, a couple were hunched over a table, in their own world, sharing quiet words and quick kisses. A few buildings down, a group of friends roared with laughter as they spilled out of the door, arms around each other and happiness on their faces.

This place was beautiful. It was…life.

And the existence of darker places did not change that, did not steal its essence. Good and bad both simply existed. In people, and in places.

Just like in the human lands.

Just like Azriel had been trying to tell you all along.

“There’s good and bad everywhere…” you murmured quietly, the words sinking in, hitting home. How could you deny it when the people here clearly were not scared, not running and screaming and begging for their lives?

There was movement, and you felt Azriel’s side press against yours. “There is.”

And you could see it now, like a fog had been lifted. But there was still one pressing question that plagued you. One you couldn’t tamp down on as you angled yourself towards Azriel proper.

“Why bother, though?” you asked, studying him. “Why go to these lengths to prove this to me? You don’t owe me anything. Why…why would you bother taking the time to make me see this?”

Azriel gazed back at you, something burning in his eyes. He pursed his lips, like he was trying to force his words back down, trying to stop them spilling out.

A fight he ultimately lost.

“Because I am selfish,” he said, staring at you fiercely. “And I couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to see you anymore. Of you thinking I’m a monster. I would not care if anyone else were to think so, but…”

“…but what?”

“But not my Bluebird.” His voice was raw, raspy. He reached out cautiously, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Not my Blue.”

A breath shuddered out of you, and with it went your resolve. You knew you could no longer fight what been pressing you for a while, now. Could no longer deny what was right in front of you.

You cleared your throat, feeling the shivers that pulsed through your skin with Azriel’s hand still hovering so close to it. So badly, you wanted to lean into it. But you forced your gaze back to the brilliant city of Velaris.

“Life seems so lovely here,” you admitted, your voice surprisingly hoarse.

“It is,” Azriel concurred. “It really is. And you, Y/N…you deserve loveliness.”

You stared fiercely at the water, begging yourself not to get choked up. You’d never had loveliness.

A warm, comforting hand pressed against the small of your back. You shamelessly allowed it to.

“Would you like to meet my family?” the shadowsinger asked.

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You were going to be sick — and not from the flying.

Your feet touched down on a beautiful, ornate estate — grass trimmed and decorated with fountains, ornaments, decorative hedges. Trees and obscure plants and beautiful flowers. Never had you been anywhere so grand.

And before you — a huge, stunning house of pillars, winding staircases, giant windows and just…pure opulence. It intimidated you just to look at.

“This is…this is where they live? Your…High Lord and High Lady?” The words felt foreign on your tongue.

“It is.” As Azriel stepped up to your side, you realised his arm was still wrapped around you. “Did I ever tell you she used to be human — my High Lady?”

Your gaze shot to him in a flash. “What? How is that possible?”

“It’s a long, elaborate story that I’ll allow her to tell you, when she feels like it. But it’s true — she and her two sisters were once human, and they were all turned fae.”

A thought that set your heart thudding at a gallop. Had they once been lowly village girls, like you were? You hadn’t considered that you might have anything in common with these people.

“Shall we?” Azriel’s arm tightened around you, and you welcomed it. You needed the grounding comfort.

With a deep breath and a nod, you allowed yourself to be led up the broad stone steps that trailed up to the mammoth front entrance. You followed Azriel’s lead, wide-eyed as he opened the front door like it was his home, also, and led you inside.

The interior was, unsurprisingly, as decadent as the exterior, but you found yourself too nervous to take in any details beyond polished marble flooring and huge, painted portraits that hung on the wall of beautiful beings. You did, however, stop to take in the portrait that was undoubtedly Azriel.

“Feyre — our High Lady — is an artist.” Azriel stopped beside you. “She painted all of these.”

“And a damn excellent artist, too.” Behind you, a voice of pure, cloaked night echoed through the giant room. It added with a hint of glimmering humour, “Not that I’m biased, of course.”

You turned at once, knowing that such a voice could never come from a human. Your heart almost stopped at the sight of the male who leaned against a carved arch, and you blushed furiously at the thought that he could probably hear such a thing.

He certainly resembled Azriel, in his golden skin and dark hair. But his eyes were of a stark, peculiar shade — violet — and his ears very much pointed. Something about the smug ease with which he stood screamed at you that this — this was the High Lord of the Night Court, looking regal in a black button-up shirt and dark trousers.

And beside him, a woman — female — of such otherworldly beauty, it was hard to imagine that her golden-brown hair and blue eyes had ever been dulled by mortality.

“He is biased,” she said with a soft smile, fondness in her eyes. She drank in the sight of you, and there was no judgement, no disapproval — just simple curiosity. “Y/N. Welcome to our home.”

“This is Rhysand and Feyre,” Azriel explained beside you. “High Lord and High Lady.”

“Rhysand?” The High Lord echoed jovially. “You sound like Feyre when she tells me off. Just Rhys will do,” he sketched you a flourishing bow, “and as my beautiful mate said — welcome to our home.”

“I…I’m afraid I don’t know the customs, where greeting a High Lord or Lady is concerned,” you cleared your throat. “But thank you for having me.”

Feyre smiled warmly. “You’re very welcome. Shall we get a drink? The others are waiting.”

Your stomach turned with nerves, but you nodded. As Azriel stepped forward, falling into stride with Rhysand, Feyre stayed behind, turning to you.

“It’s nerve-wracking, isn’t it?” she smiled at you gently. “I had already been turned fae when I first came here, but…I can’t imagine coming here as a human who’s never had much to do with our kind.”

Our kind. Clearly her mortal roots were but a distant memory.

“It is,” you agreed. “This is…hugely out of my comfort zone.”

“Just stick with me, Y/N. But you have nothing to worry about.” Her smile grew. “We’re all just happy that Azriel has found someone. Even Elain.”

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Even Elain. What the hell did that even mean?

It stuck in your mind as you held yourself through introductions, your curiosity such that you were waiting for an Elain to be introduced to. But through the names that were thrown at you — Cassian, Amren, Morrigan, Nesta — that one did not come up.

The tiny Amren was terrifying despite her small stature, and yet you found her quick wit and remarks to be personable. Morrigan — Mor — had invited you to sit with her the second the introductions were over, and she seemed almost…excited by your presence. Cassian was jovial, warm, quickly making it clear that he would joke and banter with you as much as he would with his family.

Ironic, then, that the least forthcoming with any warmth was Nesta — who surely could relate to your humanity, even if her own was long gone.

She’d barely spoken to you beyond a terse greeting. And since then, she’d stared you down from the other end of the table. You couldn’t help noticing that her eyes continuously darted to the round edges of your ears. You couldn’t read the ferocity in her gaze.

It was an effort to ignore it as conversation bloomed around the table.

“So he was just hovering above your inn like a little creep?” Cassian’s broad grin was savage, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he plied you with questions. “You should have shot him down with an arrow. Taught him a lesson.”

Your lips twitched as you answered, “Somebody else saw to that. I just ended up helping him.”

“Boo.” The Illyrian warrior snorted. “How boring.”

Beside you, Azriel rolled his eyes, but a soft smile played on his lips that told you he rather enjoyed the teasing. You couldn’t help relaxing at the…normality of it all. How easy and light and warm this conversation was.

How naive you had been, to assume that the fae were simply cold, severe beings. The furthest thing from this loving family unit. It didn’t even seem to be a bizarre circumstance to them, that they had been gathered to meet at such a late hour. If not for the huge windows letting the night sky in, you’d be forgiven for thinking that their energy and enthusiasm was indicative of day time.

“From which village do you hail, Y/N?” Feyre asked you, sipping from her wine. You’d tried not to stare too long at the casual intimacy between the High Lord and Lady — the little touches you so naturally wanted to mimic with the male beside you. She added, “Perhaps Nesta and I would have heard of it.”

At that, Nesta lifted her chin a little. You could have sworn a glimmer of curiosity streaked through her eyes, there and gone in an instant.

“Northern Swancross.” You answered, eyes darting around the opulent dining room. “It isn’t anything grand. “Most of its residents are living in poverty.”

Feyre sipped her drink, offering an understanding nod. “Perhaps too far north for us. I don’t recognise the name—”

“I do,” Nesta said sharply — the first time she’d really spoken to you. “I remember reading a pamphlet once, about fae attacks on human villages. Northern Swancross was named in regards to an attack there a couple of decades ago.”

Silence and stillness filled the space that conversation had lit up moments before. Your mouth went dry. You felt the cool touch of a shadow caressing your arm.

“That would have been my mother,” you answered, clearing your throat.

Nesta stared at you a long moment, a slither of what seemed to be…solidarity…seeping through the cracks of her icy reception. She lowered her chin in the slightest of dips, and somehow, you knew exactly what that minute gesture communicated. We have both suffered at the hands of the fae. And yet, somehow, here we both are.

“That’s awful,” Rhysand’s voice cut through the moment, quiet and laced with sympathy. “I’m sorry for the loss of your mother. We all are.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

“Nesta, Elain and I also lost our mother,” Feyre supplied. “To illness, rather than to the fae. But we understand what the loss of a parent is like. Many of us here do.”

A kind and heartbreaking sentiment, and yet all you could focus on was the mention of that name again. Elain. She must have been the third sister.

You didn’t know why you felt such preying curiosity about her standing in this group…or her standing with Azriel, and why her support for his happiness was a thing Feyre felt was worth mentioning. You couldn’t stop yourself wondering if her absence was a deliberate thing.

As if she’d read that thought, Feyre cleared her throat. “You’ll have to forgive Elain’s absence. She’s not much of a night owl.”

“Despite living in the Night Court,” Cassian added, and his booming chuckle at once chased away the tension that had seeped into the room. He grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled his glass. “So tell us more about you, Y/N.”

You did exactly that — and found yourself peculiarly willing to do so. Such a sheltered life you’d lived with no one to truly call a friend, that it now seemed that years of pent-up conversation came flooding out of you. And as hours ticked by, pedalling closer towards morning, you found yourself relaxing, forgetting that you were human and they were fae. They were just…people. Kind, good people.

And in turn for the information you shared with them, they told you about themselves, answered your questions, explained things you didn’t understand. Mor spoke to you like she’d known you for years rather than minutes. Even Nesta’s reservedness began to thin into something more cordial. One-by-one, the High Lord’s Inner Circle pulled you into its fold as if a place for you had been carved there for a very long time.

They did not balk — not even a little — at the idea of you being of worth in Azriel’s life.

Azriel himself was largely quiet throughout the night. He seemed to take a backseat and allow you to navigate this situation as you saw fit, only interjecting with comments and responses every now and then. But at your side, he remained a solid, steadfast presence, his shadows a thing of comfort. And the urge to lean against him as the night wore on was a pressing, growing one.

You didn’t want to resist anymore. Didn’t want to take a step backwards. You’d seen what he’d wanted to show you, and there were no more weak excuses you could come up with as to why your involvement with Azriel was a bad idea.

You wanted him…and you were done denying yourself him.

It was only when the night drew to a close that you began to feel the tiredness waiting on the edges of your mind. Nesta was the first to leave, and soon after that, everyone else was standing and saying their goodbyes.

“You’ll come back soon?” Feyre asked you, her hands squeezing yours. She seemed genuinely thrilled that Azriel had brought you here.

You glanced at the shadowsinger beside you, a smile playing on your lips. “If he’s willing to bring me.”

A soft, low chuckle sounded in Azriel’s chest. But there was nothing comical about the way he promised, “Whenever you want.”

Bidding the High Lord and Lady goodnight, you descended the front steps with a lightness that you hadn’t felt upon arrival. Tonight had been…easy. Simple. There was nothing more to it than merely getting to know Azriel’s friends. Getting to know Azriel’s world.

And when the doors closed behind you, it was just you and him alone, for the first time in hours.

He strolled at your side, back through the opulent front garden. Neither of you seemed to know who would speak first.

Until you turned to him and said, “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Az stared back at you, pausing for the slightest of moments. “To the River House?”

“And to Velaris. To…to Prythian.” You, too, paused. “To the truth, I suppose.”

His chin dipped just slightly. “You deserve the truth.”

A few paces forward, you walked in silence. It wasn’t until you were under the canopy of a huge, overhanging tree that you pressed your back against the trunk and allowed yourself to stare at him. Properly stare at him. To take in his beauty.

He stopped a few steps away, asking, “What?”

So many things you wanted to say. I’m done fighting this. I’m done fighting us. I want to dive further into this world with you. I want you, Azriel, whatever the hell that means for me—

“Who is Elain?” The words spilled, unplanned and undignified, from your lips. Your eyes shuttered for a moment as you regained your composure. “I mean…I know who she is. I know she’s Feyre’s and Nesta’s sister. I just mean…who is she…to you?”

Azriel was still for a moment, his brow pinching slightly. He took a step closer. “She’s…a friend.”

“…just a friend?”

“I…I won’t deny that I wondered, at one time, if she might be more than that.” His scent hit you as he continued to step closer. “But she has a mate. And I wondered that before…before I met you.”

The bark of the tree bit into your back as you held yourself firmly, grounding yourself in the moment. You inhaled a small breath, trying to ignore the dizziness that his general proximity seemed to provoke. But as he stepped closer still, now mere inches from you, you knew you were fighting a losing battle.

Still, you lifted your chin and stared up at him. Stared, as he closed the gap between your two bodies and pressed you further against that tree, his body seeming to line perfectly with yours despite your height difference. His breath tickled your neck as he leaned into your ear.

“Were you worried about that, Blue?” he asked huskily, a smile in his voice.

You couldn’t control the way your breath hitched in your throat. Lie, save face, deny it, your mind screamed at you. You weren’t sure you currently had the mental capacity to do so.

“You said you’ve had lovers,” you rasped back. “I was just wondering if, perchance, Elain had been one of them.”

A mix of both relief and disappointment filled you as Azriel pulled back — not far, but simply enough to stare sincerely into your eyes. His face was open and soft, despite the teasing that had been in his tone.

“No.” His tone was a promise. “Elain has never been my lover. I don’t…I don’t want you to worry about that. About her.”

Your shoulders relaxed just slightly. But as your gaze began to lower from his, his hand was suddenly at your face, cupping your jaw, holding your attention firmly on him.

“It’s been a long, heavy night for you,” he murmured, studying you closely. “I want you to tell me honestly how you’re feeling.”

Perhaps the most loaded question he could have asked. You swallowed, slowly shaking your head. “I…I’m feeling lots of things. Relief…that what you told me about this place was true. Shame…that I was obstinate in my ignorance—”

“You do not need to feel one bit of shame. There are always two sides of the coin—”

“And fear. I feel scared.”

Your words lingered between the two of you, truthful and unwavering. They were out in the open, now. You found yourself not wanting to keep them to yourself.

“I feel scared,” you repeated, “because I have nothing to hide behind, now. I can’t run and deny what I feel. You’ve shown me the truth, and I…I can no longer deny my own.”

His hand still cupping your face, Azriel brushed his thumb over your cheek. His eyes remained fully trained on you, not willing to look away for a second.

“There is no going back from this night,” you whispered, staring back at him. “And I’m glad about that. But I’m also so scared.”

“I don’t ever want you to feel scared. Not with me.” His hushed words, spoken quietly for your ears only, landed on your lips. “I just want to make you happy, Blue.”

It took a moment for you to realise that the soft noise that sounded — a small cry of both relief and need — came from you. You couldn’t hold yourself back any longer. You were done with resisting.

Your hand cupped the back of Azriel’s head, and you pulled it down, slanting your mouth over his. At once, he hummed against your lips and moved his hands to your waist, pulling you closer against him.

This was everything. Azriel was everything. He just wanted to make you happy, and you wanted to make him happy, too. He was not fae or a shadowsinger or a huge, imposing figure with wings. He was just Azriel. Your Azriel. Your salvation.

The male you were so, so glad to have been proved wrong about. The male you were falling in love with.

Your tongue pressed against the seam of his lips, and he parted them for you, allowing you to dip inside. At once, his taste mingled with yours, and you moaned softly, your hands grasping at him, wanting to feel him against you as you kissed him harder, fiercer.

And he kissed you back just as ferociously. You may have been inexperienced, but you knew the taste of desire on his tongue, and you knew exactly what you were feeling when he hardened against you, his arms banded around you.

“Blue,” he broke away, panting. His eyes were glazed as he stared down at you, his chest rising and falling heavily. “We’re getting carried away. Tell me what you want. I need to know what you want.”

Him. All of him. Every single inch of him.

Your eyes trailed down to the hardness that was unmistakably outlined through his leathers. Such stark hunger bolted through you that it sent shivers coursing down your spine. Had wetness pooling between your legs.

And from the way Azriel’s nostrils flared, and a deep, guttural noise vibrated in his chest, you could only guess that he’d scented it.

You pushed up onto your toes, brushing another kiss to your mouth. A light one that he seemed ready to get lost in, before you were pulling away, your eyes clashing with his again.

“I want you to take me back to my home,” you told him breathlessly, your fingers biting into his leathers. “And I want you to stay.”

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Not one bit of the journey was memorable. Not the flight back to the Wall, or that brief flash of darkness as you were winnowed from there, right back into the taproom at the Bluebird Inn.

Your only focus was on Azriel. The feel of his body pressed against yours, and how…how it would feel even better when you both rid yourself of clothing.

And gods, you were nervous. But you could feel in your very bones — you were ready.

This night had, indeed, been a reckoning. This night had, indeed, changed things forever, and made you realise that you had no good reason to deny yourself of the brilliant fae male who consumed your every thought.

You trusted Azriel. You wanted Azriel.

And when both your feet and his touched the wooden flooring of the inn, your eyes clashed only momentarily with his before you were pulling his face down to kiss you. And kiss you, he did.

It was hot and greedy and desperate, a kiss that could wait no longer. He made a low noise against your mouth, his hands finding your hips as he walked you backwards and pressed you against the bar. It was tongue and touching and too many clothes, and you were done waiting, done thinking, as you dragged a trembling hand down the firm feel of his leathers, down and down until you were cautiously folding your palm over the bulge in his pants.

You had no idea what exactly you were doing, but the way Azriel gasped against your lips seemed to be a positive reaction. One that only spurred you on further.

Even without properly seeing him, you could tell he was huge. Your hand barely fit over what pressed through his breeches. You explored the length of him, wishing that clothes weren’t in the way. That it was just skin on skin.

Azriel let out a choked moan — one that seemed pleasurable. Until he pulled away.

“Wait, Blue,” he panted, staring down at you. “Just…tell me you’re sure.”

You had gone past sure. Sure wasn’t a strong enough word. Sure was nothing against the certainty that roared in your veins.

“I am,” you promised, applying pressure with your hand. “Show me…show me what to do, Azriel.”

It was a pure, animalistic growl that broke from him then, and in one swift movement, he was lifting you up and carrying you over to the bar, perching you atop and slotting himself between your legs.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he kissed you. Kissed you again. Kissed you harder. “I promise, my bluebird.”

“Please,” you begged softly, grasping at his leathers. “I want you.”

Kisses deepened, turned more ferocious. Hands wandered, began roaming, exploring. You felt the cautious touch of a hand gliding over your breast, warm fingers permeating your shirt. You gasped, arching into the touch.

Perhaps that was why you didn’t hear it. Perhaps you were so distracted, so hungry for the male before you, that the quiet footsteps that approached were heard by neither of you. Not even by Azriel’s fae senses, his shadows.

No, you were both oblivious until a cold, stern voice filled the room.

“Y/N?” Devin stood against the doorframe, not taking his eyes off Azriel’s giant form. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

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