The sun set quicker than she expected, swathing the city of Velaris in darkness. No matter. Gwyn kept going, following the least crowded streets, hoping to race against the fading daylight. It was no use. Now the only light came from sporadic orbs of fae light, illuminating the streets and shining through window panes.

Gods, why was the world so loud? So much chatter and laughter. Things clanging and banging inside bustling businesses and cozy houses. Her heart thundered against her ribs.

Gwyn's torn heels were filling her satin slippers with blood. A fire burned through her aching muscles. Chills ran through her body as she shivered and trembled as day turned to night.

Lost. She was hopelessly lost.

For the Cauldron's sake, how could she be lost? The House of the Wind was a landmark in the Velaris skyline, for Cauldron's sake!

But, gods, the city was so overwhelming—

Who was she kidding? Mother above, it was clear by her cowering, nothing could have prepared her for this. The outside was too much, too soon. Yet, she would not regret being there for Nesta. She would never regret that part.

But, the weight of that male…

Gwyn stumbled forward, finding a deep alley where she could disappear into the shadows, letting the darkness wrap around her like a blanket. Leaning against the exterior stucco wall, she slid down to the damp cobblestones below, shutting her eyes as the exhaustion settled.

She needed to do some mind-stilling. Focus.

"I am the rock against which the surf crashes." Her arms wrapped around her torso, fingers digging into her biceps.

Get to the library. Home. Safety. Then all Gwyn needed was a scalding bath to wash off the filth.

The touch of that table under her cheek…

Gwyn shook her head and made a fist wincing. Correction, she also required ice for her hand.

"I am the rock against which the surf crashes."

Over and over, she whispered to herself, stilling her mind and body. All the while Gwyn hoped and prayed that someone would find her.

"Calm down," she muttered to herself. "What if no one rescues you? You aren't going to give up and freeze to death in an alley because of some stupid male. You need to get it together, Berdera, and do it yourself."

The Hybern Commander's voice echoed in her head. 'No one is coming, you little bitch. You're mine. You pretty little thing—'

'We belong to no one, Gwyneth. We forge our own path—' Catrin had said that the night the temple was ransacked when she had tried to convince Gwyn to leave the priestesses for good.

Some nights she laid awake thinking of their last conversation. What if she had left with Catrin that night?

"Stop it."

No more living in the past. No more chasing ghosts. That's how you get killed in the present. Gwyn's only focus should be the here and now. Her brain and body needed to get back on track. She had to pull herself out of this mess. There was not always going to be a handsome, hazel-eyed Illyrian around to come to her rescue.

She just needed a little more to focus.

Deep inhale, long exhale.

'Breathe, little Priestess.'

Deep inhale, long exhale.

She saw Catrin's pale face hidden behind her onyx hair, a bag of robes, and their meager belongings in her webbed hands. 'We forge our own path, sister. We follow our own stars.'

Follow our own stars.

She lifted her head, tilting her chin towards the sky. The moon was visible through moving clouds, but they were clearing. Wait. She would wait for the clouds to clear. Then, as the old Valkyries wrote, she would find the constellation Gerona. It was directly above the training ring at night this time of year.

Lowering her head back to her knees, she waited for the clouds to roll and the stars to shine.

Azriel flew above, scouting the streets of Velaris below. So far, no sign of Gwyn anywhere, and he was starting to get worried. Shit. What if…

Fuck the what-ifs. The city was relatively safe, and no one with sense would go after a priestess.

'But she does not look like a priestess tonight.'

No, she did not. Out of those robes, she looked like any other female out on the town. No, that wasn't remotely true. She was absolutely beautiful. Stunning. Gods, if some dumbass male thought he could try to talk to her and pick her up—

Az took a deep breath. Gwyn was fine; she had to be. He would never be able to forgive himself if he was too late again.

Something in his chest squeezed and pulled..and he just...he just knew she was close.

'Found her, Shadowsinger,' his shadows whispered. With their guidance, Azriel dropped to the street below without making a sound. Pivoting on his heel, he ran a few blocks to the west.

Turning a corner, he stopped with a shuddering exhale.

There she was.

Slumped against a cold wall, covered in grime with her arms wrapped around her trembling form. The beautiful blue dress was torn and splattered with dirt and blood. Her fingers dug in so hard they broke her flesh.

"I am the rock against which the surf crashes," she whispered on repeat, her forehead resting against her bent knees.

'Rhys, I found her,' Azriel sent out his thoughts, relaying the location. 'Bring Emerie.'

It took everything in him not to go to her right then and wrap her up in his arms. To tell her that she was safe.

'Do it. Go to her.'

But, if that idiot drunk reminded her of that day…so would he.

'Bring her home.'

All Az could think of was covering her with the warmth of his jacket. It was too close to how he had wrapped her up in his cloak that very day. Azriel could not let the rage of that day blind him. Of the soldiers ready to take her. The emptiness in Gwyn's blank stare. The gore and guts spread all over the room and table. The blood staining his hands. If he had more time, he would have made sure those pricks suffered so much more than the few seconds before Truthteller sliced their throats.

He let his shadows conceal him further into the corner of the alley, hiding him from her view. Yet he was close enough to see her and to protect her. That would have to do for now.

Damn, why hadn't Emerie been by her side at the party? Fuck, why hadn't he? This was such a big moment for Gwyn. It was a testament to her bravery and courage, of how far she had come since Sangravah.

She lifted her head, turning her face towards the moonlight. "Come on stupid clouds...move," she bit through clenched teeth. "I need to see Gerona."

Need to see Gerona? The constellation? Why would she need to see stars? Of course. When you were lost, you could use the stars for navigation. The Valkyries and the Illyrians both used to find their way home.

Godsdamn. The female before him was something special. Gwyn had a will of steel and determination of a brush fire on a windy day.

Azriel glanced up, seeing the clouds were growing thicker, precisely the opposite of what Gwyn needed.

Gwyn grumbled and swore, smacking her head hard onto her knees. "Mother above, ow," she winced, and he bit back a laugh. "I am the rock—"

'Nothing can break you, little Valkyrie.'

She lifted her weary face, staring straight in his direction. His heart hammered against his ribs, skipping beats. How—how in the world did she know he was there? There was no way she saw him through his shadows. Her shining teal eyes locked onto his. There was no fear. And he felt—

Her auburn brows furrowed. "Hello?"

Before he could command them, a few of his shadows answered, stretching out and wrapping around her shoulders in an embrace. At the first cool wisp on her skin, Gwyn's eyes fluttered shut, and she shuddered as they caressed her, rubbing against her shoulders and cheeks. The tension in her body relaxed, her head falling back against the exterior wall as she took a deep, cleansing exhale.

Gwyn's eyes snapped open, finding Az's once again, his shadows swirling around both of them.

"I am the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break me," she said once again, but this time, her words full of conviction. It was an affirmation. And when she repeated, his shadows joined her in harmony.

Emerie and Rhys appeared at the far end of the alley.

"Oh, thank the Cauldron," Emerie's voice broke as she ran down. "Gwyn! I was so worried."

Gwyn's head snapped to the right so fast, Az was worried she had hurt herself. "Emerie? Emerie?!" Her friend slid onto the ground, and the two girls wrapped their arms around one another.

"I'll get them home," Rhys said as he helped the girls off the ground.

The three of them started back up the alley before Gwyn suddenly paused and turned in his direction. His shadows peered over his wings as if waiting for her to speak.

"Thank you," she said with a nod before turning back to Emerie and letting Rhysand winnow them away into the night.