'Gwyn.'

Yeah, Azriel got it. His shadows were a tad obsessed with the little priestess. Every time she was around, they were always peering over his shoulders like excitable puppies vying for her attention. But right now, they sounded agitated and were insistent.

'GWYN.'

What about her?

'Find Gwyn.'

Find Gwyn? Where else could she be? She was outside enjoying the party with everyone, and she would be fine. Though, if Azriel was being honest, part of him wanted to find her. She did it. Gwyn was here—he was so damn proud of her.

The funny thing was, he hadn't even recognized her at first since Mor had obviously gotten her manicured hands on the priestess. Gwyn's usual fiery straight hair fell in copper waves onto her shoulders and her face was delicately made-up. The kohl around her eyes made the teal glow like a pair of flawless tourmaline gemstones. Her pink lips looked pouty and delicate. Soft and kissable. Wait...kissable?

If he was being honest, Az had to admit he preferred Gwyn with no makeup at all. He missed the light smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. And, although that dress made her look like an ocean goddess emerging from the sea, he missed the training leathers. He knew the curves and strength hidden beneath all the flowing layers of delicate fabric.

But it had been her smile—her sunny, pretty smile had his heart clenching in his damn chest Then she had jumped him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, tugging him close. It was rare that anyone surprised him, let alone hugged him, so he stood there like an idiot until his brain got the message, finally wrapping an arm loosely around her back. There was something about the way she had held onto him...

Shaking his head, Azriel intended to go straight up to Rhysand's office for an impromptu report on the Autumn Court, when he was intercepted.

"So today you look at me?" Her chilly voice lacked the familiar warmth and stopped him dead in his tracks. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and faced her.

Elain.

Shit. He couldn't do this right now and sure as fuck not here.

"Come with me," he whispered, taking her hand, hurrying her into a side room that was rarely used. Azriel turned towards her as he shut the door, scrubbing his hands down his face. "Elain—"

She lifted her chin, crossing her arms over her chest. "What, Azriel? It's been weeks and weeks since you've come to me."

The muscle in his jaw twitched. "It's too risky and you know it."

"Risky? For whom? From who?"

'Risky for you, Az.' He shook his head.

"Besides, Azriel, all we've done is kiss—"

Azriel took a step closer until the tips of their shoes touched. "You know damn well we've done a little more than just kiss." He could remember the touch of her mouth, the taste of her tongue, the warmth of her body against his own, the smoothness of her thigh. But they had never had sex. Secret kisses and heavy petting were bad enough if Lucien or Rhys found out.

He could scent the change in her body at his words. This conversation needed to end and quickly before things got out of hand.

"Elain, I've got a meeting. We can't do this right now."

She put her hands on her hips, raising her obstinate little chin, stepping right in his path. "And why not, Azriel? Don't you want me anymore?"

The strain against the front of his pants reminded him that want was not the issue and he was sure she could scent him as her eyes darkened to a deep umber.

"Want or not, we can't let whatever this is," he gestured between the two of them, "keep going the way it is. There are too many complications."

"Complications," she huffed, her brown eyes narrowed. "Oh...you mean my mate. He's not a complication, I can assure you."

Contrary to her belief, Lucien was a giant complication, and those issues weren't just political. As his shadows kept hounding him, she had yet to decide on the bond. It was her discretion, her timetable, but Az just knew deep down she didn't like Lucien. So why wait?

'Ask her. Why is she waiting?'

Azriel's shadows hid in Elain's presence, scattering to the wind, only rustling to taunt him over her indecision. They had a point. Every single rendezvous with Elain had been initiated by him, not her. As Rhys implied on the infamous Solstice night fiasco, Az was trying to seduce her to make her choice an easy one. Yet, not once before today had she sought him out for anything more than friendly companionship, and that included when Lucien was away.

'Why the sudden change, Shadowsinger?'

He didn't have an answer to the dark whispers in his ear, but Azriel knew one thing; this affair was getting harder and harder to continue. The fact he even thought he could tempt Elain to pick him turned his stomach. Azriel wasn't that male. He wouldn't turn into his father, using females to his own end.

For fuck's sake, for once, he wanted to be chosen. He wanted to be the one someone thought about non-stop. The one someone longed for. Trusted. Protected. Cherished. Loved. None of that should be hard. Love shouldn't be so damn hard.

He rubbed the nape of his neck, keeping his eyes pinned to the floor. "Elain, you know I adore you. I do. And, I don't want to lose our friendship. You were there for me over the last couple of years, when I was dealing with some heavy stuff—"

"And you were there for me as well, Az."

He nodded. "It's so important to me and I don't want to lose that."

Elain braved a step closer, placing her small hand on Azriel's broad shoulder. His body shuddered under her touch, her lips quirking up in triumph at the reaction. "We won't."

Azriel took a step backward, his hands on his hips. "But I sense we are losing that. I don't know if I'm being true to myself or you. Fuck, I don't know what I'm thinking. Between my work and shit at home, my head's all over the damn place. In my line of work, it's dangerous. There's too much at stake to be distracted right now and I don't want either of us to be the reason something goes wrong. That's not fair to you..." Azriel stopped, taking in a wavering inhale.

'It's not fair to you either.'

There he was again, standing at the precipice.

If this had been Mor standing in front of him all those years ago, Az would have said fuck it and go for her, even if it meant being with her just once, it would have been worth it. With Elain? He knew how deep her emotions went, how her big heart was, and that was something he wouldn't risk after everything she'd survived. Not until he was sure she understood exactly what that meant. Until he understood what everything meant. Something was off with Elain's behavior, something that made his skin feel tight. This wasn't a game to him.

Azriel hoped he would not regret this later.

A long-suffering sigh escaped. "Look, I don't know what happens with us in the end, how this is going to play out, but...I think we need to step back and figure some things out first, okay?"

"Azriel?" She rushed forward, placing her hands on his chest. His tanned, scarred fingers reached up and wrapped around her porcelain wrists. He hated the way they looked against her perfect skin. "Is there someone else? Is that why you're doing this?"

"What? Why would you think that?" He tilted his head, meeting her watery stare.

Her brown eyes darkened, her brows knitted. "Is there someone else?"

"I haven't been seeing anyone. Elain, take some time. Figure out what you truly want. I'll support you in whatever decisions you make. I just want you to be happy. You deserve it."

Azriel placed a light goodbye kiss on her cheek, stepped around her, and headed to Rhysand's office.

His meeting had gone as expected, mostly relaying reports on the Beron situation and whether Eris would have the balls to take Beron out. Azriel certainly doubted it. Gods, he hated that posturing prick but said prick was proving of some use, so Eris would live...for now. Azriel's hands were just itching to cause some damage to that High Fae fucker.

"Eris seems to think—," Rhys paused mid-sentence, brows slamming down. "Something is going on outside." They both jumped to their feet and headed towards the front door. He followed Rhys over to where Emerie was standing beside a table next to a bleeding male.

"What happened," Rhys snapped, watching the injured fae.

"It was nothing, High Lord. This unhinged female attacked me," he slurred as he bowed his head, stumbling forward. Azriel recognized the fools. Both were well known at the local tavern Nesta had visited, though he couldn't imagine Cassian would have let them onto the invite list.

"Someone better start explaining what happened in the courtyard of my home," Rhysand questioned, his piercing violet eyes searching the crowd. "I'm not known for my patience, but especially when shit like this happens around my mate and my child."

Emerie stepped forward, meeting Azriel's concerned gaze. "I didn't see the whole thing. I was dancing with Mor and I heard yelling and I saw him on top of Gwyn— "

Az's shadows froze, and his blood ran cold. On top of her? On top of her? Something primal and possessive bubbled deep inside him like a hot spring. He exploded. With a snarl, he seized the bleeding male, held him up by the collar, choke slamming him nearly through the top of a nearby table. "What do you mean on top of her?"

"I f-f-f-f-ell I s-s-s-swear," the prick stammered and trembled in Azriel's grasp, his hands up in surrender.

'He's drunk,' his shadows whispered.

No shit. The male smelled like a godsdamn wine cellar, and there was no missing the glaze in his eyes.

"He slipped and was trying to help her up when she pushed off the table and clocked him in the face," the male's pal said beside them.

The siphons on his hands flared. Pride flowed through him. Though Gwyn should have never been put in the position to feel terrified, she had fought. She had taken their training and defended herself, and from the amount of blood still spilling out of the male's battered face, she'd done some actual damage.

'That's our girl.'

"That bitch was crazy," the injured male slurred.

That bitch?

Az's eyes formed into slits as his hand made its way to the male's throat and squeezed. And squeezed. The struggling fae gasped and clawed for freedom as his face turned beet red.

'Azriel, let him go. He's nothing but an idiotic, sloppy drunk,' Rhysand mentally ordered, placing a calming hand on Az's tense arm.

Azriel shut his eyes and let go of the male's throat in disgust.

Rhys pulled the male off the table, placing him on his feet. He took on the standard guise of the bored, irritated High Lord, picking invisible lint off his jacket lapel. "I should let my Spymaster have his way with you. Consider your ass lucky. Now, take your friend and get out. I don't want to see either of you foolish drunk pricks in Velaris again." The two males scrambled away like hounds with their tails between their legs.

"We need to find her," Emerie stammered, her eyes big with fear, darting between Azriel and the High Lord. "Gwyn. She's gone."

A chill ran up Azriel's spine, and his heart stopped. He thought about the earlier insistence of his shadows to find her. Fuck.

He lightly took hold of Emerie's upper arms, forcing her attention. "Did she run off or was she taken? Did you see which way she went?"

"I was on the dance floor and it happened so fast. I didn't see the whole thing, but I believe it was accidental. He tripped and fell on her...pinned to the table…she hit him good, but everyone was staring. I think she panicked."

Shit. Now it made sense.

That dumb drunk ass fell on her and reminded her of…

He shut his eyes, trying to forget that image of her seared in his brain.

"Where did she go? Which direction," Az asked.

"She ran towards the river and in the direction of the city," Emerie explained with wide eyes, running her hands through her ebony hair. "Mor is winnowing around the city to find her. I don't think she knows how to get home, and that's where I think she's heading. We have to find her."

Az clutched Emerie's hand and squeezed. "We will. Don't worry." He turned to the High Lord. "I'll take the skies."

"I'll see if I can feel her out and winnow," Rhys replied.

With a nod, Az took off into the sky.