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Sarah J. Maas

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“I have no interest in explaining to Rhys and Feyre why you died on my watch. And even less interest in explaining it to Nesta.' Cassian stared toward the castle. 'You think she's alive?' The question haunted him with every breath these last few days. 'You'd know if she'd died,' Azriel said, pausing his work and looking up at Cassian. He tapped his brother's chest with a scarred hand. 'Right here- you'd know, Cass.' 'There are plenty of other unspeakable things that could be happening to her,' Cassian said, voice thickening. 'To Emerie and Gwyn.' The shadows deepened around Azriel, his Siphons gleaming like cobalt fire. 'You- we- trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It's all we can do.”

“But then Azriel approached her. Nesta had blinked at the gift the shadowsinger set in her lap. 'I didn't get you anything,' she murmured to Az, her cheeks turning rosy. 'I know,' he said, smiling. 'I don't mind.' ... ...his gaze snagged on Nesta's fingers as she opened the small box. She peered at what was inside, then looked at Azriel in confusion. 'What is it?' Azriel plucked up the small folded silver wand within and unfurled it. One end held a clip, the other a small glass sphere. 'You can attach this to whatever book you're reading, and the little ball of faelight will shine. So you don't have to squint when you're reading at night.' Nesta touched the glass ball, no bigger than her thumbnail, and faelight flickered within, casting a bright, easy glow upon her lap. She tapped it again and it turned off. And then she jumped to her feet and flung her arms around Azriel. The room went silent for a beat. But Azriel chuckled and squeezed her gently. Cassian smiled to see it- to see them. 'Thank you,' Nesta said, quickly pulling away to marvel at the device. 'It's brilliant.' Azriel blushed and stepped back, shadows swirling.”

“Azriel lingered near the door, quiet enough that when Feyre and Mor began talking about some of her paintings, Nesta went over to him. 'Why don't you sit?' She leaned against the doorway beside the shadow singer. 'My shadows don't like the flames so much.' A pretty lie. She'd seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer. 'Why did you come if it torments you so much?' 'Because Rhys wants me here. It'd hurt him if I didn't come.' 'Well, I think holidays are stupid.' 'I don't.' She arched a brow. He explained, 'They pull people together. And bring them joy. They are a time to pause and reflect and gather, and those are never bad things.' Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn't stop herself from touching his shoulder. Letting him see that she understood why he stood in the doorway, why he wouldn't go near the fire. His secret to tell, never hers.”

“The king rose. 'What a mighty queen you are,' he breathed. And Mor backed away. Step by step. 'What a prize,' the king said, that black gaze devouring her. Azriel's head lifted from where he was sprawled in his own blood, eyes full of rage and pain as he snarled at the king, 'Don't you touch her.' Mor looked at Azriel- and there was real fear there. Fear- and something else. She didn't stop moving until she again kneeled beside him and pressed a hand to his wound. Azriel hissed- but covered her bloody fingers with his own.”

“Cassian's focus had gone right to Mor, Azriel indulging in all of a glance before scanning the people around them. Most shirked from the spymaster's eyes- though they trembled as they beheld Truth-Teller at his side, the Illyrian blade peeking above his left shoulder. Azriel, his face a mask of beautiful death, silently promised them all endless, unyielding torment, even the shadows shuddering in his wake. I knew why; knew for whom he'd gladly do it. They had tried to sell a seventeen-year-old girl into marriage with a sadist- and then brutalised her in ways I couldn't, wouldn't, let myself consider. And these people now lived in utter terror of the three companions who stood at the dais. Good. They should be afraid of them. Afraid of me.”

“Everyone tensed as he leaned in, head dipping, and kissed her. Nesta's lips were chips of ice. But he let their coldness sting his own, and brushed his mouth against hers. Nipped at her bottom lip until he felt it drop a fraction. He slid his tongue into that opening, and found the inside of her mouth, usually so soft and warm, crusted with hoarfrost. Nesta didn't kiss him back, but didn't shove him away. So Cassian sent his heat into it, fusing their mouths together, his free hand bracing her hip as his Siphons nipped at her hand once more. Her mouth opened wider, and he slid his tongue over every inch- over her frozen teeth, over the roof of her mouth. Warming, softening, freeing. Her tongue lifted to meet his in a single stroke that cracked the ice in her mouth. He slanted his mouth over hers, tugging her against his chest, and tasted her as he'd wanted to taste her the other night, deep and thorough and claiming. Her tongue again brushed against his, and then her body was warming, and Cassian pulled back enough to say against her lips, 'Let go, Nesta.' He drove his mouth into hers again, daring her to unleash that cold fire upon him. Something thunked and clinked beside them. And when Nesta's other hand gripped her shoulder, fingers now free of stones and bones, when she arched her neck, granting him better, deeper access, he nearly shuddered with relief. She broke the kiss first, as if sliding into her body and remembering who kissed her, where they were, who watched. Cassian opened his eyes to find her so close that they shared breath. Normal, unclouded breath. Her eyes had returned to the blue-grey he knew so well. Stunned surprise and a little fear lit her face. As if she'd never seen him before. 'Interesting,' Amren observed, and he found the female studying the map. Feyre gaped, though, Rhys's hand gripped tight in her own. Caution blazed on Rhys's face. On Azriel's, too. What the hell did you do to pull her out of that? Rhys asked. Cassian didn't really know. The only thing I could think of. You warmed the entire room. I didn't mean to.”

“Az, this one's for you.' The shadowsinger's brows lifted, but his scarred hand extended to take the present. Elain turned from where she'd been spreaking to Nesta. 'Oh, that's from me.' Azriel's face didn't so much as shift at the words. Not even a smile as he opened the present and revealed- 'I had Madja make it for me,' Elain explained. Azriel's brows narrowed at the mention of the family's preferred healer. 'It's a powder to mix in with any drink.' Silence. Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. 'It's for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.' Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I'd never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Cassian and Rhys joined him, the former grabbing the bottle from Azriel's hand and examining it. 'Brilliant, 'Cassian said. Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, 'Thank you.' I'd never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and grey like veins of emerald. 'This will be invaluable.' 'Prick, ' Cassian said, but laughed again.”

“Azriel set the potatoes in the centre of the table, Cassian diving right in. Or he tried to. One moment, his hand was spearing toward the serving spoon. The next, it was stopped. Azriel's scarred fingers wrapped around his wrist. 'Wait,' Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice. Mor gaped wide enough that I was certain the half-chewed green beans in her mouth were going to tumble onto her plate. Amren just smirked over the rim of her wineglass. Cassian gawped at him. 'Wait for what? Gravy?' Azriel didn't let go. 'Wait until everyone is seated before eating.' 'Pig,' Mor supplied. Cassian gave a pointed look to the plate of green beans, chicken, bread, and ham already half eaten on Mor's plate. But he relaxed his hand, leaning back in his chair. 'I never knew you were a stickler for manners, Az.”

“Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armour, Elain's golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders. He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door. Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. 'Would you like me to show you the garden?' She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded- just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn't tell if she was looking at his blue Siphons or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, 'Beautiful.' Colour bloomed high on Azriel's golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

“Rhys didn't dare break from his mask, but the light kiss he pressed beneath my ear told me enough. Apology and gratitude- and more apologies. He didn't like this any more than I did. And yet to get what we needed, to buy Azriel time... He'd do it. And so would I. I wondered then, with his hands beneath my breasts and between my legs, what Rhys wouldn't give of himself. Wondered if... if perhaps the arrogance and swagger... if they masked a male who perhaps thought he wasn't worth very much at all.”

“Before I could warn Azriel to hurry, the other two hounds were on me. One leaped right for me. I lifted my bow to intercept its jaws. The hound snapped it in two, hurling the wood away. I grabbed for a knife, just as the second one leaped- A roar deafened me, made my head ring. Just as one of the hounds was thrown off me. I knew that roar, knew- A golden-furred beast with curling horns tore into the hounds. 'Tamlin,' I got out, but his green eyes narrowed. Run, he seemed to say. That was who had been running alongside us. Trying to find us. He ripped and shredded, the hounds launching themselves wholly on him.”

“Doesn't count when you use your hands to do most of the work.' Nesta schooled her face into utter disdain, even as a hiss rose inside her. 'I bet that isn't what you've been telling yourself at night.' Azriel's shoulders shook with silent laughter as Cassian set down his fork, his eyes gleaming with challenge. Cassian's voice dropped an octave. 'Is that what those smutty books teach you? That it's only at night?' It took a heartbeat for the words to settle. And she couldn't stop it, the heat that sprang to her face, her glance at his powerful hands. Even with Azriel now biting his lip to keep from laughing, she couldn't stop herself. Cassian said with a wicked smile, 'It could be anytime- dawn's first light, or when I'm bathing, or even after a long, hard day of practice.' She didn't miss the slight emphasis he put on long, hard. Nesta couldn't stop her toes from curling in her boots. But she said with a silent smile, striding for the doorway, refusing to let one bit of the discomfort in her sore legs show, 'Sounds like you have a lot of time on your hands, Cassian.”

“I don't know what the two of you have been doing in this House, but it reeks of sex. Cassian snorted. A polite male never tells. Rhys's laughter rumbled in his mind. I don't think you know what the word polite means. Thanks the gods for that. His brother laughed again. I old Az playing chaperone would be useless.”

“I took it upon myself to add your presents to the communal trove.' I lifted my brows. 'Everyone gave you their gifts?' 'He's the only one who can be trusted not to snoop,' Mor explained. I looked toward Azriel. 'Even him,' Amren said. Azriel gave me a guilty cringe. 'Spymaster, remember?' 'We started doing it two centuries ago,' Mor went on. 'After Rhys caught Amren literally shaking a box to figure out what was inside.' Amren clicked her tongue as I laughed. 'What they didn't see was Cassian down here ten minutes earlier, sniffing each box.' Cassian threw her a lazy smile. 'I wasn't the one who got caught.' I turned to Rhys. 'And somehow you're the most trustworthy one?' Rhys looked outright offended. 'I am a High Lord, Feyre darling. Unwavering honour is built into my bones.' Mor and I snorted.”

“Cassian elbowed his way past Amren, earning a hiss of warning, and began chucking presents. Mor caught hers easily, shredding the paper with as much enthusiasm as Amren. She grinned at the general. 'Thank you, darling.' Cassian smirked. 'I know what you like.' Mor held up- I choked. Azriel did, too, whirling on Cassian as he did. Cassian only winked at him as the barely there red negligee swayed between Mor's hands. Before Azriel could undoubtedly ask what we were all thinking, Mor hummed to herself and said, 'Don't let him fool you: he couldn't think of a damn thing to get me, so he gave up and asked me outright. I gave him precise orders. For once in his life, he obeyed them.' 'The perfect warrior, through and through,' Rhys drawled. Cassian leaned back on the couch, stretching out his long legs before him. 'Don't worry, Rhysie, I got one for you, too.' 'Shall I model it for you?”

“Accidents happen in the Rite, I'd only suggested when Cass's face had tightened with the news. We won't dishonour the Rite by tampering with it, was his only reply. Accidents happen in the skies all the time, then, Azriel had coolly countered. If the whelp wants to bust my balls, he can grow a pair himself and do it to my face, Cassian had growled, and that was that.”

“Azriel straightened a sagging section of garland over the windowsill. 'It's almost like you two tried to make it as ugly as possible.' Cassian clutched at his heart. 'We take offense to that.' Azriel sighed at the ceiling. 'Poor Az,' I said, pouring myself another glass. 'Wine will make you feel better.' He glared at me, then the bottle, then Cassian... and finally stormed across the room, took the bottle from my hand, and chugged the rest. Cassian grinned with delight. Mostly because Rhys drawled from the doorway, 'Well, at least now I know who's drinking all my good wine. Want another one, Az?' Azriel nearly spewed the wine into the fire, but made himself swallow and turn, red-faced, to Rhys. 'I would like to explain-' Rhys laughed, the rich sound bouncing off the carved oak moldings of the room. 'Five centuries, and you think I don't know that if my wine's gone, Cassian's usually behind it?' Cassian raised his glass in a salute. Rhys surveyed the room and chuckled. 'I can tell exactly which ones you two did, and which ones Azriel tried to fix before I got here.' Azriel was indeed now rubbing his temple. Rhys lifted a brow at me. 'I expected better from an artist.”

“Elain said to Azriel, 'Hello.' Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me. But Azriel only took Elain's heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, 'Sit. I'll take care of it.' Elain's hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them.”

“Do you know what an inconvenience it is to need to find a place to relieve myself everywhere I go?' A fizzing noise came from Cassian's side of the table, but I clamped my lips together. Mor gripped my knee beneath the table, her body shaking with the effort of keeping her laugh reined in. Rhys drawled to Amren. 'Shall we start building public toilets for you throughout Velaris, Amren?' 'I mean it, Rhysand,' Amren snapped. I didn't dare meet Mor's stare. Or Cassian's. One look and I'd completely dissolve. Amren waved a hand down at herself. 'I should have selected a male form. At least you can whip it out and go wherever you like without having to worry about spilling on-' Cassian lost it. Then Mor. Then me. And even Az, chuckling faintly. 'You really don't know how to pee?' Mor roared. 'After all this time?' Amren seethed. 'I've seen animals-' 'Tell me you know how a toilet works,' Cassian burst out, slapping a broad hand on the table. 'Tell me you know that much.' I clapped a hand over my mouth, as if it would push the laugh back in. Across the table, Rhys's eyes were brighter than stars, his mouth a quivering line as he tried and failed to remain serious. 'I know how to sit on a toilet,' Amren growled.”

“I believe everything happens for a reason. Whether it is decided by the Mother, or the Cauldron, or some sort of tapestry of Fate, I don't know. I don't really care. But I am grateful for it, whatever it is. Grateful that it brought you all into my life. If it hadn't... I might have become as awful as that prick we're going to face today. If I had not met an Illyrian warrior-in-training," he said to Cassian, "I would not have known the true depths of strength, of resilience, of honor and loyalty." Cassian's eyes gleamed bright. Rhys said to Azriel, "If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair." Azriel bowed his head in thanks. Mor was already crying when Rhys spoke to her. "If I had not met my cousin, I would neer have learned that light can be found in even the darkest of hells. That kidness can thrive even amongst cruelty." She wiped away her teas as she nodded. I waited for Amren to offer a retort. But she was only waiting. Rhys bowed his head to her. "If I had not met a tiny monster who hoards jewels more fiercely than a firedrake..." A quite laugh from all of us at that. Rhys smiled softly. "My own power would have consumed me long ago." Rhys squeezed my hand as he looked to me at last. "And if I had not met my mate..." His words failed him as silver lined his eyes. He said down the bond, I would have waited five hundred more years for you. A thousand years. And if this was all the time we were allowed to have... The wait was worth it. He wiped away the tears sliding down my face. "I believe that everything happened, exactly the way it had to... so I could find you." He kissed another tear away.”

“Lucien had been prepared to take me against my will. Fae males were territorial, dominant, arrogant—but the ones in the Spring Court … something had festered in their training. Because I knew—deep in my bones—that Cassian might push and test my limits, but the moment I said no, he’d back off. And I knew that if … that if I had been wasting away and Rhys had done nothing to stop it, Cassian or Azriel would have pulled me out. They would have taken me somewhere—wherever I needed to be—and dealt with Rhys later. But Rhys … Rhys would never have not seen what was happening to me; would never have been so misguided and arrogant and self-absorbed. He’d known what Ianthe was from the moment he met her. And he’d understood what it was like to be a prisoner, and helpless, and to struggle—every day—with the horrors of both.”

“There was a tiny box left on the table by the window- a box the Mor lifted, squinted and the name tag, and said, "Az, this one's for you." The shadowsinger's brows lifted, but his scarred hand extended to take the present. Elain turned from where she'd been speaking to Nesta. "Oh, that's from me." Azriel's face didn't so much as shift at the words. Not even a smile as he opened the present and revealed- "I had Madja make it for me," Elain explained. Azreil's brows narrowed at the mention of the family's preferred healer. "It's a powder to mix in with any drink." Silence. Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. "It's for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often." Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughted.”

“What is it you want to know?" Nesta asked carefully. Bryce glanced between them. "How'd you two meet?" "There was a war," Nesta said shortly. "Between who?" Bryce asked. Azriel answered this time. "Between an evil Fae King and us." "You two, or like . . . everyone?" Nesta gave her a withering look, "Yes, the King of Hybern declared war on just me and Azriel.”

“Sadistic monsters,' Gwyn hissed as the three friends limped toward the water station, defeat heavy on their shoulders. 'We try again tomorrow,' Emerie swore, sporting a black eye thanks tot the swinging log that had knocked her on her ass before Nesta could grab her. 'We keep trying until we wipe that smug look off their stupid perfect faces. Indeed, Azriel and Cassian had just leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and smiled at them the entire time. Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. 'See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,' she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. 'You have no idea what you just started,' she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. 'Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?' Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. 'You're the new ribbon, Az.”

“What do you want to hear?" Bryce asked, opening her music library. Nesta and Azriel swapped glances, and the male answered a bit sheepishly, "The music you played at your pleasure halls." Bryce laughed, "Are you a club rat, Azriel?" He glowered at her, earning a smirk from Nesta, but Bryce played one of her dance tunes - a zippy blend of thumping bass and saxophones. And as the three of them walked into the endless dark, she could have sworn she caught Azriel nodding along to the beat.”

“I told you that the moment we started letting females into our group, they'd be nothing but trouble.' 'As far as I can recall, Cassian,' Rhys countered drily, 'you actually said you needed a reprieve from staring at our ugly faces, and that some ladies would add some much-needed prettiness for you to look at all day.' 'Pig,' Amren said. Cassian gave her a vulgar gesture that made Lucien choke on his green beans. 'I was a young Illyrian and didn't know better,' he said, then pointed his fork at Azriel. 'Don't try to blend into the shadows. You said the same thing.' 'He did not,' Mor said, and the shadows that Azriel had indeed been subtly weaving around himself vanished. 'Azriel had never once said anything that awful. Only you, Cassian. Only you.”

“Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, 'What do we get if we finish the course?' Az's shadows danced around him. 'Since there's no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn't bother to get a prize.' Boos sounded. Gwyn lifted her chin in challenge. 'We look forward to proving you wrong.”

“Sadistic monsters,' Gwyn hissed as the three friends limped toward the water station, defeat heavy on their shoulders. 'We try again tomorrow,' Emerie swore, sporting a black eye thanks to the swinging log that had knocked her on her ass before Nesta could grab her. 'We keep trying until we wipe that smug look off their stupid perfect faces. Indeed, Azriel and Cassian had just leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and smiled at them the entire time. Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. 'See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,' she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. 'You have no idea what you just started,' she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. 'Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?' Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. 'You're the new ribbon, Az.”