Author's Notes:
The first part of this chapter takes place during Starfall night, Chapter 44 in ACOMAF. Azriel stayed around with Morrigan and Cassian to dance for a while, but then Feyre loses sight of them, saying that everyone went home while she and Rhysand slow danced until dawn. We don't know where Azriel went during that time, so I used that information to set up this scenario.
The second part of this chapter takes place in Chapter 45 of ACOMAF. Azriel again splits off from everyone else to go check on his spies in other courts and to see if his spies for the Mortal Queen courts have gotten in or not, yet. He also stops to talk to Feyre's sisters to see if Nesta or Elain have heard anything from the Mortal Queens. Feyre is off training with Rhys in the woods near the Illyrian camp. Again, I used that absence of Azriel's whereabouts during that time to set up the second half of this chapter's scenario.
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"Truth Teller shook in my hand, and the shadows around me cried out. 'The High Lord of Wings is dead!' they wailed, and I knew it was for Azriel that they all grieved."
~ from "The Carver's Legacy", excerpt by Elain Archeron
~.~.~.~.~
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I felt the stars falling far above my head, felt their silent, fierce plummet through the Void and the warmth their dying bodies carried on the breeze as they turned to phosphorescent green ash before meeting earth.
Most of them, anyway.
A few of them were Void-walkers, such as I had been, crossing over this slow-turning planet at blinding speeds on their way towards another destination. They did not plunge to their demise, but rather streaked across the sky, stepping past us and onward. Their movement could only be seen on this night, when the spaces between worlds were thinnest and Void rifts opened up in random places.
My siblings and I had told the High Fae long ago that these strange lights were spirits on a vast migration towards the afterlife, for those primitive faeries saw us as gods, and we did not want to break that illusion. As far as I knew, that story persisted among the Night Court's residents.
"Starfall!" the Wraith called out through The Prison, whisking down corridors as fast as a summer breeze to announce the sacred time to those of us remaining. "Starfall begins!"
Every year it was the same. I never knew how my co-conspirator divined this date correctly, as there were no windows to the outside world in our fortified bastille, but this annual nighttime prediction always came on the same date, like clockwork. It really was one of the few ways I could mark the particular day of the year; the screams of the dying above simply were not predictable enough to do so any longer, now that the herd of prisoners had thinned out.
The 'Living Shade' appeared at my doors on a gust of wind, hovering on the other side and whispering through them his news to me, as if I hadn't heard him. At the same time, he begged my shadows to come play with him again. Feeling generous on such an auspicious occasion, I granted him his request and set my eldritch shadows free. Their tether remained in my hands, but I allowed them this temporary amusement.
When they left together, zooming off through the corridors with childish glee, I set aside my carvings for the night, deciding to let my work be for the time.
As of tonight, it had been thirty-thousand, three-hundred and three years since my own fall into this world.
Three threes. An ominous number, my sister might have said from her days divining.
I snorted at the thought. If only someone had told her, Koschei, and I such a thing before we'd collectively bent to investigate the odd, glowing fissure that had suddenly appeared at the bottom of that one cavern... The three of us falling into this world had been nothing short of a calamity, so perhaps Stryga would be right in proclaiming it a dooming number after all.
"Do you think so, my Black Diamond?" I turned my head and whispered into the earth. "Is three an ill-fated number?"
Leaning back onto the inset stone ledge that served as my bed, I closed my eyes and let my body go lax. Stretching out my senses, I listened to the wind as Starfall marked the turning of the season. This would be my last time enjoying this event…and I would be alone for it.
I don't know how long I lay there seeped in self-pity, feeling the stars fall and wishing I could view them for real. Sometime around the three o'clock hour, however, I felt a shift in the breeze, and I heard the doors far above flung open as someone came through them with haste.
I smelled him long before he appeared; his leathers, his sweat, the crisp wind that clung to his wings were an aphrodisiac to my starved senses.
Azriel had come after all.
Abruptly rising, I turned towards the doors to my cell and bade them open with a thought and a small push of magick. Against my sides, my hands shook, and under my ribs, my heart leaped.
I stood and faced my fate.
When my body shifted once more into that of the beautiful Morrigan, I felt the poisoned fangs of jealousy slice through me, knowing the warrior-princess was still my mate's greatest wish. Still, I glanced down at the white, sleeveless dress that curled around this form and clung to its generous curves, and couldn't help but think the Morrigan's fashion sense was, at least, unparalleled. If I were female, this is the dress I would wear to an elegant affair—or to entice a lover. The costume was mostly diaphanous, but heavily beaded with white gemstones and sequins; it gave off the gentle luminescence of starlight as I moved. A daring slit up the side bared one whole leg to the hip. Silver heeled sandals, made of the softest leather adorned my feet and added some extra height to my tall frame.
Before I could wonder further about my appearance, Azriel was striding through my door…and he kept coming at me like a male who would not be denied.
As soon as he cleared the doors, his wings flared wide, stretching nearly the entire length of my cell, and that rumbling purr escaped his chest to fill the room with its hypnotic sound. It was the sound of a male in heat who had found a match.
After weeks of internal debate, of frustration and the need for resolution, I decided to simply surrender to the arousal that burned through me. What I felt I would not fight, regardless of the body I wore or how it was clothed or that it was responsible for Azriel's interest, as my time in this world was short, and I had gone too long without knowing another's touch. I could not endure the emptiness any longer.
Like Rhysand, I wanted to hold onto my dream, too, even if only for a little while.
I let Azriel rush me and encircle me in his strong, warm embrace. I fell into him without resistance, winding my arms around his neck, surrendering to the mate bond that had held me in its sway since the moment Stryga had cast her spell upon my life's string and tied me to this magnificent male. I let his scarred hands grip the back of my hair to tilt my head and hold me still. I let him bend me to his need.
Our mouths met, melded and it was heat and pleasure, fiery death. I quickly grew dizzy and lightheaded.
I wanted him to know what this was like, to know how easily a mate could destroy one's senses. I suggestively stroked his wings with my nails and stole his breath with a ravishing kiss. His body quivered in my arms and he groaned with pleasure at my feathery touches against the thin membranes stretching forwards, silently begging me for more. He lifted me, pushed me back against the wall, where the bone was smooth and cold and brought me into intimate contact with the solid length of him through his leathers.
With trembling hands, I reached between us to release him from his confines, to take him into my palm and hold him as I'd wanted to for weeks. He was thick and long, and throbbing in my small grip. I gently squeezed around him and with a deep, masculine grunt he thrust through the tunnel of my fingers, all silken heat with an iron core.
Inflamed by his taste and his scent in my nose and his slick, hard prick in my hand, I jerked him until he was coming against my bare thigh in hot spurts. His tongue swept over the pulse at my throat as his pleasure-filled groan vibrated through my skin, and then he was possessively biting down on the flesh and pushing the skirt of my dress aside to slide his elegant, strong fingers through my wet, sensitive core. With a growl, he thrust two into me and fucked me with them, ruthlessly but with skill. My hands curled against his chest, the nails digging into the soft, blue shirt he had worn for the festivities. It matched the small, sapphire stud winking at me from his earlobe. I licked it, sucked it between my lips, and rode his hand to climax.
I'd never had sex as a female. It was different, frightening and exciting all at once. The sensations of climax were less intense than a male's, but the tremors and the rippling sensations kept coming until I was seeing stars…until I was incandescence itself, a fallen creature diving into an improbable heaven.
I whimpered, shook, and gasped my lover's name.
My mate, I cried down the bond that connected me to him.
There was no response. Instead, his cock took the place of his hand, sliding into me with a practiced ease, and just from that I was suddenly coming again, harder and more intensely than the moment before. I cried out and tossed my head back as he thrust deep, filling and stretching me until my hips ached and my eyes watered and every breath was an effort. The muscles of his arms bulged with strength as he easily held me up and pinned me in place, even while his powerful hips drove relentlessly against mine below.
Looking down, he watched as he sunk into me over and over, his expression a mask of concentration, ecstasy, and awe.
I pleaded in his ear for more—faster, deeper, harder.
He gave me everything.
As I came apart for him a third time, my head spinning from the pleasure, all I could feel was the heavy weight of him deep inside me, merging us together again and again until I wasn't sure where he ended and I began.
His thrusts grew frantic then, and his wings flared wide, and I knew he was close to his own ending.
Sweat poured down the side of his face, dripping onto my cheek and into the crack of my lips. I licked it away, clamped my thighs more tightly around his hips, grabbed a hunk of his hair and yanked his head to the side, and bit his throat as he had mine.
He came with a roar, and I clung to him as the only anchor in a storm-tossed sea of emotion.
When it was over, my body was slick with sweat and other things, and my legs shook as hard as my heart. Azriel gently set me back on my feet, and when I would have slid to the floor, he captured me and safely sat me on the edge of the stone ledge where I usually slept. Then, he stepped away and hastily turned his back on me, righting his clothing, recalling his shadows to his side from where he'd banished them.
With a groan at the ache in my whole body, I lay back on the ledge, not bothering to cover up. Why should I? He'd be gone again in a minute, and with him, my body and clothing would return to normal. It would be as if none of this night had happened, with only memory to serve as proof otherwise.
I closed my eyes and sighed, too tired to feel that rejection right now.
"Did I hurt you?" he softly asked as an awkward silence settled between us once more.
I could feel the euphoric high fading and the return of my usual cynicism.
Had he hurt me?
I wanted to admit that he had, but in ways that went beyond the physical, yet I knew that would be an ill-advised move, as it seemed Azriel truly was unaware of the mate bond between us; it was clearly one-sided, as my sister had so nefariously planned. And with his explosive temper, despite how carefully repressed it was by his clever mix of magical siphons, I didn't think he'd appreciate knowing he was even remotely soul-connected to a creature like me.
No good would come of admitting to my new lover—and to the entire prison population, whom I knew was listening intently to this illicit liaison even then—that the shadowsinger held any sort of power over me, including that which could harm me.
I turned my head and stared at the back of him. His dark hair was ruffled from my hands, his wings drooped lazily with satiation, and the bite I had left at his throat was covered by his collar, but I knew it was there. I took pride in having marked him and in having had him as wildly as he'd had me, in knowing I'd broken through that icy calm he was so famous for exhibiting to unleash the savage male within.
Perhaps the power thing went both ways…
"You did only as I wanted you to," I stated with some small arrogance and left it at that.
My reply seemed to surprise him, as if he hadn't expected me to sound so cold-hearted, but then he simply nodded once and strode out of my domain without a backward look, heading home to Velaris to sleep off the fuck of his life.
I didn't move, waiting for my body to shift back to normal. When it did, I slapped a hand over my eyes and sighed.
Loving Azriel would be the death of me. Literally.
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A few days later, he returned.
He stormed through my doors, letting his shadows shove them open, and rolled into my cell like an angry, black cloud ready to unleash a tempest.
I stood, meeting him head-on, fists clenched at my sides.
"I will not so easily submit again, Shadowsinger," I warned him, and sent my shadows at his to give him a challenge. He countered as I'd expected, and his friends met mine in the middle of the room, shrieking as they smashed into each other and grappled for supremacy, their strength fueled by our wills. Mine was clearly the older, more powerful forces of the two, but this was not meant to be a battle to the death, simply a game of mating dominance. I cautioned my eldritch friends to be more careful as they sliced up several inky shapes.
"Why?" he demanded of me, concentrating on the fighting before us. It was not going well for him, despite his clever attempt to draw my shadows closer towards the single lit torch in his hand.
I laughed, and it was a brittle sound. "The first time was a gift to us both. Now, you must prove you are worthy to fuck me again."
His hazel eyes glanced away from the fight towards me, and in those green-gold depths, I saw a cunning I hadn't expected.
"Fine," he said and threw the torch down, plunging us into the abysmal black.
Our shadows abruptly stopped fighting; their agitation had been snuffed as assuredly as the loss of light, replaced with curiosity and well-honed caution. I laughed again, this time in joy, and clapped at Azriel's ingenious solution.
"Bravo! You are indeed a male after my own heart, Illyrian!"
His warm body was suddenly pressing against my own, as he winnowed right in front of me. "Good," he whispered and claimed my mouth as his prize.
It was not a gentle kiss, and I knew it was meant to both punish and inflame me. I took his chastisement and his encouragement with a moan of surrender.
His beautiful, scarred hands reached around me to unbutton the thin, teal-coloured dress he'd put me in. When he'd freed the last button, he slid the straps off my shoulders and pushed the filmy, silken fabric to the floor until the Morrigan's voluptuous body was bared for his pleasure. He could not see as well as I could in such stygian darkness, but there was nothing wrong with his tactile senses or his imagination. He ran his fingertips over my hot, tingling skin, starting at my throat and moving downward, and that rumbling, masculine purr escaped his mouth as he learned the smoothness of my skin.
"I'm going to lick every inch of you," he promised in a soft, dark whisper. Then his wings flared and curved around me, providing a warm, safe cradle for my body as he bent his head and sucked at my breasts. His tongue rasped across them, one at a time, eliciting whimpers from between my lips. When he gently nipped at the taut buds with his teeth, my vision went white. The need within grew until its fire consumed me. I bowed my back and thrust my lower body against his. My aching core met the thick ridge of his arousal tucked behind his leathers and I rode it, shuddering with pleasure.
"Azriel, please!" I begged in a low, husky voice, uncaring of how wanton I sounded. I needed to feel him inside me again more than I needed my next breath.
He swore on a long exhale, and before I could blink, his wings were pulled back and he was on his knees before me, his head buried between my thighs. His talented tongue was velvet magic, licking my tender, wet flesh until my legs were shaking and I was crying out for him, climaxing against his face.
He didn't stop licking and tasting me even when I came down from the high. He seemed determined to drive me over the edge again. I'd never felt such ecstasy as when he sucked the small nub of flesh at the apex of my slit while slowly thrusting his fingers deep into me.
Despite all my long years of debauchery and excess as a younger male, despite the hundreds of partners I'd had over the millennia, despite having been mated once before, I'd never known this kind of sex. I'd only ever enjoyed the act with a male's body and his single-minded drive for personal fulfillment. As a female, I felt everything, and it was breathtaking.
My body transcended a second time and only then did Azriel grant me what I greatly desired.
Clothes half-undone again, he dragged me down to where he knelt and pulled me over his lap. His cock found my core as if we were instinctually meant to come together, and I readily fell upon him even as he wrapped his wings around us and started fucking me.
Arms like steel bands held me tight to him as his hips drove up into me, and every thrust was as deep as it could get and as hard and fierce as both our hidden tempers. Wet flesh met in a series of loud slaps as we chaotically came together, driven by an all-consuming need that neither of us seemed to want to deny. I scratched him, bit him, drove him until I was sure his heart would give out, and when I came, I screamed his name to the sky. He emptied into me at the same time, holding me still as he released his seed deep into my body.
Exhausted in the aftermath, I lay limply within his embrace, sweaty and sated. I glimpsed into the corners to find our shadows, both his and mine, similarly entwined. Apparently, they'd taken their cue from their masters.
The warm glow only lasted moments, however, before he was lifting me off him and setting us right. He left me much as he had the first time, assuring I was set upon the bench, turning his back on me as he adjusted his clothing, recalling his shadows to his side. When he headed for the door without a word, I was stung by such callousness.
"You forgot my tribute," I snarled at him, not enjoying these feelings of vulnerability he'd stirred to the surface.
He stopped at the door, and despite the lack of light, I saw him turn. "Am I to compensate you now for this service, too?" he asked, his tone devoid of all emotion.
I flinched at such a cold dismissal and turned my back on him, rolling towards the wall, but I was angry and I let him know it. "Don't you know, Azriel, when you use something you always pay for it? Or hadn't you learned that lesson by now, whelp?"
He fired back, "If that was so, Carver, then we would both be the richest males on the planet."
He walked out without another word.
I slammed the doors shut behind him.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Author's End Notes:
Oh, these males - obsessed with playing with fire! :)
Please review - reviews are love! They keep my muse going!
XOXO,
- RZZMG
