Disclaimer: All but Lyra belong to Sarah J Maas
Azriel watched as Amren studied Lyra's old room, her smokey eyes taking in every inch of the scatter mess, the charred marks, the splintered wood. Rhysand stood just a bit behind her, his own violet eyes running over the room as his power glided over it too. Mor watched them at his side, arms crossed and a frown on her face as she impatiently waited. Azriel wasn't sure who was more worried, him or Mor.
Lyra was still in her room, having been there for almost two days now. Mor had been the only one allowed in, to deliver her food or talk with her. She always reassured him that she was okay, just taking some time for herself, but it still drove him mad. He was afraid she would get lost in that dark place inside her head again.
"Has the Book said anything more about her?" Rhysand asked after finishing running his power over the last of the room. Amren's nostril's flared delicately, sniffing as she lifted a bit of charred wood, held before her by her manicured nails.
"'Lady of Life.'" Amren grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Lady of Life, over and over and over. Annoying, vile thing."
"Hmmm." Rhysand sighed, running a hand over his jaw as Amren threw the charred piece of wood back to the ground, sending it rolling along the floor until it hit one of the drawers that were still tipped over.
"She should speak with it." Amren said, her eyes flitting to Azriel before he even had a chance to bare his teeth at her. "Don't hiss at me, boy. If she wishes to learn, then she should start at the source."
Azriel glared, the word 'boy' only angering him further. Mor sighed beside him, looking up at him before she whispered, "Perhaps she is right, Az. I don't like it either… but if the Book truly gave her the powers, then it could not hurt."
"You said it only speaks madness." Azriel muttered, wings shifting. "What use will it be?"
"It cannot hurt." Rhysand said, shaking his head. "Because I have never seen or felt anything like this."
"Nor have I." Amren said, her dark eyebrows raising as she looked at those charred marks running along the wall, spread out behind where Lyra had been that night like twisted sort of wings. The words made Azriel nervous and from the frown on Mor's face, it did the same to her. He had known that whatever Lyra held was unique, especially if it had come from the Book itself, but for Amren to not know what it was…
"It means nothing, boy." Amren said, shrugging her small shoulder, those smokey eyes on him and an amused look on her face. "Power is power. I can train her either way."
"If anyone can help, it is Amren." Rhysand repeated, giving Azriel a reassuring look. His brother was right. The tiny female had helped him with all that power he held, far more than any other High Lord in the history of Prythian, even when no one else had been able too. The fact eased something deep inside him.
"If Hybern gets word of this, of whatever she holds, he'll hunt her down or take her for himself." Amren said, looking to Rhysand, who's face went grave. "Perhaps even the other High Lords. I would not put it past Baron to try for her."
"That will not happen." Azriel snarled, low and dangerous, his fingers running along Truth Teller at the words. Mor stilled next to him, giving him that same curious look from the night that Lyra had destroyed the room.
"We will protect her." Mor agreed, her face softening as he met her gaze. Despite whatever that look she had given him meant, he could see that she was just as protective of Lyra as him. She would not allow harm to come to her any more than he would.
"I have work with the Book I must finish." Amren said, breezing toward the door, a look of disgust on her face as she mentioned it. "I will have time in a couple days for her. Bring her by then."
Without waiting for an answer, she swept out of the room without so much as a backward glance at them. Rhysand's lip twitched in amusement, but he let out a sigh as he walked toward the door himself. He paused, laying a hand on Azriel's shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We will protect her, brother. She is part of the Night Court now."
The words both reassured him and made him uneasy. He was very aware that all of them looked to him when speaking of all that concerned Lyra. He had shown how he cared for her in the way the words had affected him and he could see how Rhysand, Amren and even Mor had looked to reassure him that she would be protected. It reminded him how they spoke to Rhysand of Feyre, a way to soothe a worried mate. It didn't matter that he had made it clear to all three that Lyra was nothing more than a friend, they still were convinced of what she was to him.
He gave a curt nod, trying to calm himself and Rhysand followed after Amren, her ride back to her apartment before he took back off to help in his spying of their various enemies. Azriel stood, stiff and slightly irritated as Mor watched him for a moment before heading toward the door too. "I'm going to go tell her about meeting with Amren."
Azriel gave a simple nod, before moving out the room after her and heading toward the balcony without another word. He felt her eyes on him the whole way, could picture that confused, searching look she kept giving him as he took off for the training ring again. He needed to punch something, the urge so great his fingers twitched with anticipation.
He spent hours in the training ring again, working himself into exhaustion. Mor, thank the Mother, did not come out this time. He trudged back into the House after he could hardly stand anymore, growing tired easier from his lack of sleep the last several days since the incident. He landed on the balcony of the dinning room, his shadows hissing irritably in his ears for sleep as he drew closer to his room.
But the sight of Lyra, eating a meal alone at the table and reading a book that lay next to her plate, stopped him dead in his tracks. It was almost like the first night he had ever seen her in the dining room again and he felt a swoop of relief so great at the sight of her that it made him dizzy.
She looked up as he landed, cheeks going red when she met his eyes. She was pale, her face tired and worn with her hair tied up into a messy bun on top of her head, but other than that she looked… fine. Even just as he looked at her those first few seconds, he could see that she didn't carry that darkness like when she had first come here. None of that pain and fear from before seemed to weigh on her like the first time and he thanked both the Cauldron and the Mother for it.
"I thought… you'd gone." She muttered, cheeks still tinged with pink as she leaned back a bit in her seat.
"I was training." He said, tucking in his wings and taking a couple of steps into the dining room.
"Right." She muttered, her fork pushing some of that food around on her plate. "Ugh… Cassian's gonna kick my ass for missing these last couple days."
Azriel couldn't help it when his lips curled up at the words and he drew closer, seating himself across from her. His body craved sleep, exhaustion calling him toward his bedroom but he could not stop himself from staying to make sure she truly was as alright as she seemed. She looked back to him when he sat down across from her, the pink across her cheeks darkening a bit as she shifted nervously. He didn't understand why she seemed so anxious around him, though he assumed that it had to do with the destruction of her room and that fear of hers that others were frightened of her powers.
"Mor spoke to you?" He asked and she gave a nod.
"I have a feeling Amren's going to be more of a hard-ass than Cassian, if that's possible." Lyra mumbled, shaking her head as she pushed back a few stray hairs around her face tiredly. "Where does Amren live, anyway? Mor said apartment, but I always pictured her in some giant palace or something."
"It is less of an apartment and more of a little room on top of a shop." He chuckled and he saw her look up at him when he laughed, a bit of surprise seeming to cross her face. He wasn't sure what the look meant, but he continued. "The only finery she keeps are her jewels. She hoards them."
Lyra snorted at the words, laughter twinkling in her white-blue eyes. "She's full of surprises." Lyra muttered, spearing a piece of fruit with her fork and eating it. She chewed on it, her face thoughtful for a moment. "Do you know what it will entail? Her training, I mean."
"I don't." He answered. "My power has never been something I needed her help with. She trained Rhysand with his, though."
"What can you do? I mean I know the shadow stuff, but there is something else…" She asked, tilting her head and studying him. Those white blue eyes roamed over him, like she was searching for some sign or clue to what other power slumbered within him. "I can see it. Something separate from the shadows. It feels like Cassian's."
"Illyrians describe it as killing power." Azriel explained, his words drawing her eyes back to his face. "It's focused through the Siphons."
He lifted his hand, tilting the blue stone toward her and she studied it, her brow furrowing as she stared. He wondered what she saw, what she felt there. "I wondered what those were for. They felt odd but figured it could have been a fashion choice."
He chuckled, looking at the deep blue of the Siphon on top of his hand. She let out a small laugh too, lips curved into a light, easy smile that made his heart ache with the beauty of it.
"You thought it a fashion choice?"
"I don't know. Little best friend stones for you and Cassian, maybe." She teased and he couldn't stop the huff of a laugh at the words.
"He would love to hear that." Azriel said dryly, running his fingers over the smooth surface of the stone. "Make sure I'm around when you tell him the stones we spent years earning as warriors look like some sort of 'best friend' trinkets to you. I shall like to see the amount of push ups he gives you."
Lyra laughed, a lovely sound that filled the room. He felt that warmth fill him, settle deep within his chest as he took in her smile, the slight tinge of red still across her cheeks. Her eyes met his again and he saw something cross her face, a look he didn't understand before she set down her fork. "Thank you, Az." She whispered, looking up at him through her dark lashes.
"For what?" He asked, brow furrowing in confusion.
"For not treating me differently after… after hearing everything." She muttered, cheeks reddening again and her fingers digging slightly into her palm. He realized what she meant then and understood why she had been nervous with him. He hadn't been sure if she had even realized he had been in the room during her admission to Mor, too scared and shaken by everything to register him. Mor had not offered an answer either, though it hadn't been surprising. She always kept anything the females had confessed to her in private to herself, never betraying their trust to even the Inner Circle when they shared those pieces of themselves with her.
"It changes nothing." He said gently, his gaze meeting hers and he hoped she understood how much he meant the words. They did not change how he viewed her. If anything, he only admired the strength she had to have to carry such pain. "It will never change how I see you."
Emotion swam in her eyes and for a moment he worried she would cry, but she only offered him a gentle smile. "Thank you." She mumbled, relief lining her words. He dipped his head to her, his eyes softening. Lyra opened her mouth to say something more, but just as she did, Azriel felt a familiar dark power rumble against his mind, something urgent and demanding about the way it pressed against his shields. He could tell Lyra saw it, her eyes searching as he lowered his shields to his brother.
I need you. Now.
Despite the urgency of his brother's words, he found himself hesitating as he looked back to Lyra. The thought of leaving her now, of walking away from her made him ache.
It is Feyre, Azriel. I cannot feel the bond.
The words were lined with alarm, panic. Azriel felt his own fear mix with Rhysand's at the words and he stood. I'm coming. He assured him before shutting his shields and looking back to Lyra.
"Was that… Rhys?" She asked, looking worried at his sudden rise from the table.
"Yes. I'm sorry, but I need to go." He said, his wings shifting behind him.
"Can I help? Is everything okay?" She asked, those white-blue eyes filled with concern.
"I don't know." He answered truthfully, watching her frown. "I will come back when I can."
"Be safe, Az." Lyra called, the words, her concern making his heart quicken. He bowed his head to her, murmuring a promise that he would try before he speared into the sky and rushed to his brother.
Amren's apartment was as Azriel had described. It was little more than studio apartment that held her bed, a counter, some furniture and her clothes. Lyra had been prepared by Azriel, but it still surprised her how ordinary it looked. Almost plain.
Well, except for the random, large, glittering necklaces, earrings or broaches. They were often filled with incredible and enormous gems that probably cost more than the apartment itself. Lyra had been tempted to touch one of them, but Amren's smokey eyes had been on her and she didn't want to have the tiny woman thinking she was getting grabby with her jewels.
"Are you ready?" Mor asked, watching Lyra cautiously as she settled into a chair near the wall across from Amren's bed. Amren was perched on one across from her, leg crossed and a curious look on her face as she watched Lyra.
"I guess." Lyra muttered, eying the box that held the Book with disgust. She felt it, that familiar, horrible sensation that had called from her in the depths of the Cauldron's water. Mor had told her a couple of days before that Amren had agreed to train her, but had also broken the news that neither Amren nor Rhysand had ever come across something like her powers. She had quickly assured her that this hadn't matter and Amren was sure that she would be able to help, but to better understand it, she had asked again that Lyra speak with the Book. Lyra had wanted to reject the idea as soon as she heard it, a shiver running up her spine when she thought of even coming near that voice again but going to "the source" as Mor had called it actually had made sense. So here she was, sitting in Amren's tiny little apartment and preparing herself to hear that awful thing again.
Rhysand had wanted to be here, just as curious about her gifts as the others, but he, Azriel and Cassian had left nearly four days before when the bond he had with Feyre had gone quiet. Mor had been alarmed by this and Lyra felt guilty that her friend, who clearly wanted to look for their High Lady, had been stuck to watch after her. Even Amren, who rarely seemed bothered, had seemed edgier as they all waited for the others to locate Feyre.
Amren stood, heading toward the box that sat next to a half empty wine glass of blood. Lyra had unfortunately learned that was what she consumed when Mor had brought her here with a large jar of it in her hands. "She'll won't be as cranky if we bring some." Mor had muttered, though her nose had wrinkled as she carried it.
Amren opened the box and Lyra flinched, that chaos and madness of the Book running along her bones. She lifted it, dropping it with a clunk onto the dresser, that blood sloshing in the glass at the movement.
Hello, Lady of Life.
Lyra took a deep breath, trying not to go back to that place, those dark depths, that burning. She dug her nails into her other arm, that pain keeping her grounded in the present.
"Vile thing." Amren hissed, returning to her seat and wrinkled her nose at it.
Beautiful, lost Child. We Made you.
She glared at that Book, surprised that it looked to be made out of simple, silver metal. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but something more extraordinary for a powerful magic item. Lyra tore her gaze away from it to look to Mor and Amren. "Do I… talk to it?" Lyra asked, unsure of what to say to the mad ramblings.
"I doubt any of it will make any sense, but…" Amren nodded, waving Lyra toward the thing.
No need to fear, little beauty.
That voice, all the madness and horribleness it held made Lyra bare her teeth at it, though the almost animalistic gesture slightly surprised her. She couldn't help it though, that thing made her feel so disoriented and wild.
"What does it mean, Lady of Life?" Lyra asked, waiting as the thing paused.
Life and Death. Creation and Destruction. Light and Shadow.
Lyra glared, her brow furrowing at the words. She glanced at Amren, trying to see if she understood any of it, but she was only staring with a confused look on her face. "What does that mean? " Lyra snapped, looking back toward it.
You are the Child of Creation. She made a wish and we Made you.
Amren straightened at the words, her smokey eyes narrowing but she still didn't look like she understood the meaning. Lyra didn't either. She hadn't wished for this, to be torn from her home and dropped into a foreign world on the brink of war. All she had wanted was to graduate college and make something of herself. The only other person who could have wanted her was the King of Hybern, but it had said she.
"Who made a wish?" Lyra insisted, her heart beating rapidly as it paused. She just wanted answers. Answers for why she was here, why she had these horrible powers, why she had been taken when she was no one.
She made a wish and we Made you. It repeated, the words a sigh and laced with what sounded almost like need.
"It does love to repeat itself." Amren grumbled, rolling those smokey eyes.
Lady of Life. Child of Creation. We m-
"Shut up!" Lyra growled, that voice and those nonsensical words grating on the last of her nerves. To her surprise, it fell silent and she felt whatever power it held seemed to pull back into it, leaving her jittery and tired. "Sorry. It just…" She let out a groan, dropping her head into her hands. "That voice just makes me feel insane."
"You did well, Lyra." Mor assured her and she gave Lyra a proud smile when she looked up.
"Did you understand any of it?" Lyra asked Amren, who had a calculating, contemplative look on her face.
"No." She said simply, but she could see something was going through her mind. Lyra wanted to push her, but she held her tongue, knowing already that it wasn't wise to try to get more out of Amren then she was willing to give. The tiny woman stood, heading toward that jar of blood that Mor had brought and poured a hefty amount into a glass before sniffing it and then taking a drink. Lyra tried not to flinch.
"Great." Lyra grumbled, rubbing her face with a sigh.
"You made no wishes?" Amren asked and Lyra snorted, shaking her head.
"I wished to pass my finals maybe, but not this." Lyra said, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms. "Could the King of Hybern have been working with a woman or-"
"Not that we know of." Mor mumbled, looking just as lost in thought as Amren did. "Amarantha was the only female general that he held any sort of respect for, but she is now dead. Perhaps Azriel will know. He has gathered intel on all close to Hybern."
"If it means someone to do with Hybern at all." Amren said, taking another long sip of that blood. Lyra waited, but yet again Amren said nothing, just took another sip of her blood. She looked to Mor, who shared a look of irritation with her.
"Helpful, Amren." Mor snipped, rolling her eyes as Amren bared her teeth at her.
"What about Feyre?" Lyra asked, her brow furrowing as she thought back to the night Rhysand had explained everything to her. "Rhys said that when Feyre brought the book together, it released enough power for the Cauldron to pull me here. What if she… ugh, I don't know. I don't know what she could have wanted that would bring me specifically here."
"It is a thought." Amren muttered, lips pursing as she thought it over. Amren swirled that blood around, watching as it moved within the glass, still thinking when Lyra felt an odd charge in the air. She straightened, seeming to feel it before the others and Mor gave her an alarmed look before a paper appeared before her, fluttering like a feather in the wind into her lap. Mor stared, eyes wide as she read it over, standing abruptly.
"Mor, what-"
"It's Feyre." Mor breathed, joy lighting her eyes as she looked to Amren, who had sat up at the words. "Cassian and Azriel have found her. They're heading to Rhys Mother's house now."
"Go, girl. Now." Amren ordered, setting that glass of blood haphazardly onto the Book. Lyra would have laughed at it if not for the seriousness of the matter. Mor said nothing, that joy and relief lighting her eyes as she disappeared in a swirl of darkness and smoke. Lyra felt the power of what she did, deep in her stomach.
"You aren't going?" Lyra asked, taking in the almost nervous energy that Amren now had. Or as nervous as Amren got.
"No. Someone must always stay behind to protect Velaris." She said, before coming to stand beside her. "Come."
Lyra's brow furrowed, about to ask what Amren meant before her thin fingers wrapped around Lyra's arm and with a roar of wind, she felt a pull, her body seeming to swirl before she landed unceremoniously on the carpet of the town house. She stumbled, her stomach churning nauseously as she tried to right herself. "Can you warn me?" She snapped and Amren merely grinned, her teeth a slash of white against her red lips.
Lyra sat herself in one of the couches, trying to orient herself as her head spun. She knew what Amren had done was known as winnowing, but she had never actually done it herself. She had only ever agreed to being flown by Azriel, Cassian or Rhys, the thought of some odd teleportation magic being to much for her.
"Water, Lady Lyra?"
Lyra looked up, finding Carridwen before her, a glass of water in her hand. Only her hand seemed to be solid, her body a swirl of smoke. Nuala stood a few feet behind her, practically translucent. Lyra knew the two could hardly stand to be around Amren and seemed to fade into air whenever the tiny woman appeared.
Lyra thanked her, taking the water quickly so she could disappear back to the kitchens away from Amren. Amren watched them fade away with a sniff of amusement, rolling her smokey eyes as she seated herself in one of the cushioned chairs. "Nervous little things."
She took a drink of the water, the cool liquid settling her stomach before she leaned back into the back of the couch. "Where is Rhys' mother's house?" Lyra asked, watching as the foot of Amren's crossed leg tapped in the air. The only sign of her stress.
"In the Illyrian mountains." Amren answered simply.
Lyra didn't know Feyre, but she knew what the High Lady meant to her friends, and she found herself growing nervous as she waited for her return. After minutes of Amren's silence and just watching the woman pick at her painted nails, Lyra stood and tried to find something to do as they waited. She found a book in one of the bedrooms that seemed interesting enough and Lyra tried to focus on it as the minutes ticked by until they all returned. Nearly two hours passed before Lyra felt that charge, almost like static in the air that signaled a large use of magic, and jolted Lyra up from her seat. Amren's glowing eyes flicked up and she went alert just as Lyra heard Mor winnow into the foyer.
She heard their voices as she and Amren approached, felt all of them filling that small space. Three familiar figures and two new.
"… children laughing in the street?" A man was saying, his voice almost confused.
"That they do so at all after Hybern's attack is testament to how hard the people of Velaris have worked to rebuild." Amren purred as they found the group, those grey eyes scanning the lot of them.
Lyra smelled blood as stopped before them, the scent filling her with nervousness. She knew Feyre was the one who had been in danger, had been stuck with their enemy but she frantically looked for Azriel first, the thought of him injured making her shake with worry. When she saw him, took in his intact fighting leathers and uninjured wings and swirling shadows, she let out a sigh of relief. His amber eyes found hers and she was unable to stop the smile that spread across her face at the sight of him. His eyes softened at the smile, shadows curling around his knuckles.
The two new guests were watching her and she blushed, finally looking toward the High Lady of the Night Court and the unexpected red hair man with a brutal scar down one side of his face and what looked like a mechanical eye whirring as he looked between her and Amren.
Feyre was breathtakingly beautiful, even with dirt, blood and mud coating her. She had flowing golden blonde hair that was in a loose, half ruined braid, sparkling blue grey eyes, an upturned nose sprinkled with freckles and a full, soft mouth that was quirked into a soft smile as her eyes met Lyra's.
She could see too, like with all the others, the power that Feyre held. It was different than the others, something multifaceted and seeming to change as it churned in her. She felt a part of it that was similar to Rhysand's, like an echo that had come from him but changed inside her. Lyra wondered if it was something Feyre gained when she became High Lady.
"I see you brought home a new pet." Amren muttered, giving the red head a look of revulsion. His eyes widened as he took in Amren, fear sparking in his good eye before he bowed to her, low and respectful. Cassian gave an snort at the movement and Feyre shot him a look that quieted him but didn't remove the amused smirk on his face. The bow seemed to please Amren, because she grinned, her eyes flashing. "Already trained, I see."
He rose slowly, caution in his eye as he kept it on Amren. After he seemed to realize the woman wasn't going to attack him, he straightened completely and finally looked to Lyra. His eyes narrowed, face paling before he breathed, "What are you?"
Lyra flinched at the words, the fear this man held in his eyes as he took her in. As he gazed at that power she held and blanched at it. Pain twisted in her chest and her nails dug into her palm.
Azriel gave a low, dangerous snarl from beside Cassian, his amber eyes on the man. Feyre blinked at Azriel's reaction, looking slightly shocked when he whispered to the red head in a voice that held death, "Lyra is a friend and member of this Court. You will treat her with respect."
I do not fear you.
Lyra wished for a moment she had Rhysand's demanti gifts then, just for a way to convey to Azriel in that moment what those words meant to her.
The red head stared back at Azriel, stiff and cautious as he took in the threat beneath Azriel's words. He turned back toward Lyra, dipping his head to her, though Lyra could still see how carefully he beheld her. "Apologies." He bit out.
"This is Lucien Vanserra." Feyre interrupted, seeming to sense the tension and anger that was still radiating from Azriel.
"I don't use my family's name." Lucien muttered, still stiff, though Lyra couldn't tell whether it was from the way Azriel still watching him with dark eyes or something hearing his last name did to him. Feyre just gave a simple nod, before looking back to Lyra and giving her a small smile.
"It is good to meet you Lyra." She said, brushing the stray hairs that had escaped her braid away from her face. "I'm glad to see you are alright."
"You too." Lyra said, shifting nervously as Feyre studied her. Lyra wasn't sure what to do, meeting the High Lady for the first time. The others were so formal with her, she doubted Feyre was much different, but from what she understood of Prythian, a High Lady or Lord was almost the equivalent of a queen or king. Surely she should of curtsied or something? But before she could decide, Amren interrupted.
"Does look like someone clawed you up." The woman said, eying the angry red mark that marred Feyre's pale forearm. She glanced at it, almost like she had forgotten the wound.
"What is this place?" Lucien asked, his brow furrowed as he looked around the town house, listened to the noise of the city outside. Lyra wondered about the story of how this man had even come with Feyre, if he didn't even know where he was.
"My home." Feyre answered, the words filled with love and joy. But Lucien stiffened at the words, eye narrowing as he processed them. "This is Velaris. The City of Starlight."
"And you are High Lady of the Night Court."
"Indeed, she is."
Feyre whirled toward the sound of Rhysand's voice and Lyra felt like she was interrupting upon something intimate as the woman beheld her mate, love and so many other emotions crossing her face. Rhysand looked happier than Lyra had ever seen him, those violet eyes alight with stars and affection as he stared at Feyre. But his smile faded when a small, broken sort of sound rushed from Feyre.
It was like the sight of her mate made her realize that she was actually here, safe and out of the enemy's hands. She fell, a muffled sob bursting from her as her knees hit the ground. Rhysand was before her instantly, pulling her hands from her face before he cupped her cheeks gently. "My love." He whispered, kissing her with such tenderness it nearly broke Lyra's heart. Lyra had never seen such love between two people before.
He scooped her up in his arms, cradling to him before he winnowed to the top of the steps. He looked down at them, his arms tight around Feyre before he said, "Go find somewhere else to be for a while." He didn't even wait for a reply before he disappeared down the hallway
Cassian's chuckle broke the silence and the others moved toward the door. Lucien looked both confused and slightly angry, an emotion that confused Lyra, but he followed behind Mor as she beckoned him out of the house. "Is Feyre alright?" Lyra whispered to Cassian as he followed after the red head, wings tucking in against his body as he passed through the doorway.
"She will be." Cassian muttered, giving her a wink that confused her. Azriel let out an annoyed sigh as he came to stand beside her after they had exited the house and stood in the green lawn outside. Cassian lay his hand on Lyra's shoulder as he passed, his hand warm as he squeezed lightly. His kind, gentle way of saying he was glad to see her. Lyra smiled at him, nodding.
Azriel lingered, surveying her and she did the same, making sure now that she was closer that he was actually okay. He saw the look, his lips twitching. "I am fine."
"I'm glad your back." She said, returning his smile.
His throat bobbed, a blush spreading across his tan cheeks and she saw a shadow curl around his ear. She wondered if it was whispering something to him.
"As am I." He whispered and she saw that shadow disappear, like smoke blown away on a breeze.