Gwyn stared at the ceiling all night, her fingers tugging on her lower lip as she watched the stone ceiling until the pebbled canopy morphed into the endless velvet of a navy sky. Cool dew chilled the heated skin on her back, having seeped straight through her robe. Her palms fell to her sides, the feel springy blades of meadow under her fingertips. Wait...grass? Where was she?
Gwyn tilted her chin up, scanning around only to feel her hair brushing against soft hair the hue of raven wings. A female lay head-to-head beside her, her webbed fingers weaving as a delicate spider spindled a web. Only interwoven in those hands, beginnings of an elegant headdress of…wildflowers.
A great gust cut across the wide field, sending the ambrosial scent of blossoms and warm sunshine. Leaves and high grasses rustled in a refrain she'd always remember. A southern breeze caressed over her skin like a tender touch, filling her head with reminders. Treasured recollections she locked away inside her chest.
Her forehead creased as she tried to recall the melody her mother hummed as she waded into the water of the cool lake, calling out for her daughters to join. She always swam farther than where their toes touched the muddy bottom.
This place. It was a place stitched into her heart like a quilt, each square piecing together in a grand tapestry of her fondest memories.
Webbed fingers and wildflowers. Clapped rhymes and giggles. The sweet essence of waterlilies and morning dew floating in the air. Gwyn knew who spread out beside her as easily as she knew herself. Her other half.
Her heart clenched.
"Cat—Catrin," she asked, clearing the slumber from her swollen eyes, finding the back of her freckled hand damp.
"Hello, Gwyn," Catrin said, her voice reminding Gwyn of windchimes. Musical and light.
It was Catrin sitting beside her, whole and unmarred. No hint of the horrible gash across her throat. She looked...perfect.
Two years to the day, her sister appeared before Gwyn in a dream, pledging the gift of two nights of the year. On the day they came into the world together, one soul in two bodies. And the day one had departed, their souls cleaved apart by Hybern's blade.
Gwyn sealed her eyes shut tight enough to see a white flash behind her lids. How had she forgotten all about Catrin tonight?
Disturbingly intense hazel eyes promising violence came to mind, haunting her like a ghost, showed her the answer.
"Gwyneth." Her sister loosed a subdued sigh. She shifted a palm under Gwyn's head, nestling it snugly in the cushion of the gathered robes in Catrin's lap. Gwyn blinked as Catrin's webbed hand loosened the stuck copper strands from her face before cupping Gwyn's cheek. "I'm so proud of you, sister."
Gwyn's eyes flew wide open. "How—how can you even say?"
Her twin shook her head, her onyx waves skimming over her shoulders.
Catrin leaned over, planting a soft kiss on Gwyn's forehead. "You got out. You're safe—and you're moving on, Gwynnie. You're strong and resilient. And, I know…" She paused, her dark brows knitting. "I know what arose earlier..."
Gwyn's throat bobbed on a hard swallow. "Oh. Yes...Today was tough. Harder than expected," Gwyn confided, her lower lip quivering. Her eyes fluttered shut as her twin's hand eased over her hair and her burdens in slow caresses.
Catrin snorted and grumbled, "Males are fools."
A giggle burst out of Gwyn. "Cat!"
"What?" Cat's fingers stilled in Gwyn's auburn locks. "He yelled at you." She raised and dropped a shoulder. "As your sister, I'm allowed to offer an opinion. But that's not what I was referring to." A mischievous smile inched across her twin's face. "You kissed him."
Gwyn could feel the suffocating heat rush over her from head to toe as she slapped her palms over her face so hard Catrin laughed.
"Don't remind me, sister. I don't know what I was thinking."
Cat chuckled. "Yeah, you do. You knew exactly what you were doing and thinking. And it's alright, Gwynnie. More than alright."
"Well, to be honest, I may have been pushing...he's a fine male…wait, how did you know?"
Gwyn peered up under dark lashes, finding eyes the tint of glittering seas mirroring her own. So bright they gleamed as if lit behind. Familiar yet ethereal. "I know things." Her eyes flashed. Catrin smiled so radiantly she shone from within. "Sisters watch each other's backs. Even after death."
Catrin twisted her body, her arm reappearing with something held in her fist. A single blush-colored flower of five petals twirled, the individual petals whirling in a blur of pink.
Her sister arched a black eyebrow, glaring at the bloom in her fingertips as if under a spell. Those blue-green eyes...they changed. No longer bright but the murky color of churning seawater before a storm. The hair on the back of Gwyn's neck rose as a dreadful chill crawled down the length of her spine.
"You know? It's strange, Gwyn," a voice spoke. A voice familiar and ultimately not. As if Catrin was singing three-part harmony by herself.
Those mysterious opaque eyes snared Gwyn's like prey in talons. "It's hard to tell one flower apart from another," the voice continued. "How can one be lovely and pure, while others lure you in with their fragrance and can slay you with a drop of their poison?" A hesitation, angling her head, the cascade of her onyx hair spilling to one side. "It's often hard to know them apart until it's too late." Holding her stare with those unnatural eyes, she handed Gwyn the blossom before going back to sweep over Gwyn's head.
"Oh look, there's Gerona," Catrin said, her hand stilling in Gwyn's strands. That was Cat's voice. The sister she recognized. Finding her gaze, Gwyn saw only bold teal gazing back at her.
What—what just happened?
"You know Gerona will always lead you home, don't you, Gwyn?"
Pale streaks of sunlight crept across the ceiling as the bird calls sailed in the breeze of his open window, harbingers of dawn's return.
Azriel rubbed the heels of his palms in his eyes. The grittiness of another sleepless night, a familiar friend. The dragging weariness a fellow traveler. 'Sleep,' his shadows often pleaded. Yet instead, he replayed what took place on the rooftop on repeat to confirm it was true. Until darkness bowed to a new day.
His wings twitched and spasmed, aching under the pressure of his back as he twisted onto his side, stretching as he went.
Last night was a puzzle missing too many essential pieces. How? How in the mother-fucking Cauldron had the evening progressed from apology to sparring to ending in a kiss? And, gods, the kiss...
Az deciphered the art of touch long ago, serving him well. The body turned into a fluent second dialect to translate. How pinpointing the exact spot, the specific pressure, brought you what you wanted. How a gentle, sensual pet and lingering gaze could arouse interest. Or how a simple, passionate caress could unleash a heart-racing torrent of desire. A fleeting glance or a fidget could distinguish friend from foe. Lover from a rival.
But what to make of Gwyn's flushed face as she tore away? Those tender, shy brushes of her exquisite, full mouth against his? They tormented him with phantom touches, making him crazy with need. For clarity. For more.
Gods above, he wanted her. To keep her unwavering friendship like the most precious gift. Bask in each bright smile as his sun. Needed his lips to be the sole ones she kissed. Her hands exploring every part of his body. And he was dying to know every damn inch of her. Unwrap every damn thing that made Gwyn Gwyn.
Az's whole life was guarded by icy darkness— his shield. But her kiss broke the shield, warping and irradiating this place within. The dark yielded to the light like lightning, opening his eyes to what had to be done.
His hands trembled at his sides, fisting the onyx sheets at the thought. Dammit.
Chilled air swept against his exposed arm as a cat brushed against its owner. His shadows had always been there for him. Answered his desperate wails when no one else had. Comforted him in the misery. And they grasped deep inside, there lived that boy rejected by everybody.
And damn, Gwyn's words nailed him with the truth, forcing him to take stock of what the hell was going on in his soul. His heart.
"Why do you torture yourself?"
Because he earned it. He ruined everything.
"You deserve someone who will give their whole heart. You are brave. Kind. Fearless. Selfless. You are worthy of love, Azriel."
He was a waste of breath. A burden. Worthless.
'She cares about you, Shadowsinger. Tell her how you feel. Let her be the judge.'
Dread settled like iron in the pit of his stomach, twisting up his insides at the what-ifs.
'What if she merely kissed me out of pity?' he asked his dark friends. 'What if she won't forgive me for how I spoke to her? What if she realizes...'
I'm a monster, he thought to himself.
'We are with you, Shadowsinger. Do not fear. Your hearts sing the same song.'
Easy for them to say. Azriel only hoped the Mother and the Cauldon and whoever else was listening, were on his side. Because next time he saw Gwyn? He was going to dive in headfirst. Take the risk. His shadows swirled around him like a cyclone, as if saying YES. SHE is worth the risk.
Once. Only once before had he said the words. Not to Mor. Not to Elain. But to a female with deep violet eyes and hair the color starless of midnights. Young. They'd been so damn young and he so foolish and careless with his heart. When she died, a part of him she had brought back to life perished with her. But now? Several hundred years later, a girl with the beauty of a sunset and eyes like a mountain stream found that piece he thought lost.
So, yes. She was worth every risk, even if it destroyed him.
The dream churned in her head as Gwyn drew on her leathers, Catrin's words breadcrumbs leading her to... Wildflowers? Godsdamn Gerona again? Her eyebrows drew together. Taking a deep cleansing breath in through her nose, she slipped her arm into the snug sleeve. The exhale released as Gwyn strapped the dagger to her right thigh.
Later. She would dwell on it later.
Staring into the small mirror as she plaited her copper hair, Gwyn barely recognized the female standing before her. The one armed, outfitted in dangerous leather with a sturdy figure of muscle. A girl no longer scared of the vast, wicked city. A bold female who kissed…
Her braid snaked over her back, a shake of her head as Gwyn made her way to the dorm door.
Gwyn's hand rattled the cool, metallic doorknob, heart leaping into her throat. She could do this. All she needed to do was a twist and pull.
She couldn't do this. No way could she face Azriel after what transpired last night. Because she did it to him. Not with him. He hadn't moved an inch...
Get your head in the game, Berdara. You have training today.
Rolling her shoulders, Gwyn started down the lengthy, dimly lit hallway toward the ancient winding stairwell. Up and up she moved, one foot in front of the other, her footfalls echoing off the curved walls. Unease followed her with each step like a shadow, making the hair under her collar lift.
Her breath came out in short pants as she neared the top. Four more floors. Four more until she discovered if Azriel hated the kiss. Liked it. Or if he was merely going to avoid her. And Gwyn didn't know which was worse, and it made her chest clench so hard she stumbled. She stopped, incapable of moving a step further.
"You can do this" she gave herself a pep talk, pushing herself to continue. "It's not a big deal, right?"
Right. All you did was kiss Azriel without permission. Mauled his mouth and scurried off like a startled hare. Gods, she defined the word pathetic. How could Gwyn even look him in the eye today? Or explain why did what she did? That something drew her to him like a flower to the sun.
Gwyn's eyes squeezed shut, her hands balled into fists. "You're being ridiculous," she muttered to herself. "Move."
"Get your ass up here, Berdara," Nesta yelled from high above, her tone brokering no humor. "If you're late, Cassian is going to make us run laps! I'm blaming you if that happens!"
Well, shit.
"I'm coming," she shouted back as she pressed on, skipping two stairs at a time, her booted soles squeaking on the rock. Meeting her two sisters already waiting for her at the top, their arms crossed over their chests, Gwyn pushed through them and headed to the door leading to training. Better to get the impending, horrifying awkwardness over with.
"Late night," Nesta started, her footsteps close behind.
Gwyn cut her off, knowing exactly where Nesta's interrogation was heading. "No, Nesta. I simply slept in."
"So it has nothing to do with you running like a mad female and a particular Illyrian— "
"No," Gwyn snapped, her pulse pounding with every stride towards the door.
With a shove forward, Gwyn was on the rooftop. Roslin and Thea waved at them as they approached. The newest recruits to cut the ribbon and earn their way to Valkyrie rank.
Cassian stood before them, arms crossed, a shrewd eyebrow raised at his girl's tardiness. But... someone else was noticeably absent.
"He's not here," Nesta whispered in Gwyn's ear, setting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Gwyn's heart sank. "Oh."
The gentle grip on her squeezed as Emerie patted the other as she stepped around the pair. Even Cassian's eyes shown sympathy. Cauldron, who else knew what happened?
Embarrassment heated her cheeks. She wanted to hide. To race downstairs and toss herself into bed with the blankets over her head. Scream and yank her damn hair out for thinking about kissing the Shadowsinger. Didn't want to regret the kiss because... she loved it.
"Alright, Ladies," Cassian bellowed. "Let's get to it."
Groaning, Gwyn ground her boots into the coarse sand, the grains grating underfoot. With a swing of her arms, she set into her fighting stance and waited for commands. And so began the longest training session of her life.
The orange hues of dusk painting the horizon line were in stark opposition to the grey rolling in from the south. His wings shuddered as thunder rumbled in the distance, heralding a springtime storm. The heavy scent of mist saturating the air. The rain would arrive shortly.
Azriel was glad to find the training ring empty for once. He'd often find an ambitious redhead sneaking extra exercise. The last thing she should be doing in a thunderstorm was brandishing a metal sword, waving it around as a makeshift lightning rod.
The House was hushed, deserted when he entered. A note from Cassian stated he and his mate had gone to the River House for supper if he cared to join. With Elain there? Possibly Lucien? No fucking thank you. He'd sooner drink straight faebane than endure that torture.
But a vacant house was a blessing. The exhaustion finally seized him, his eyelids heavy. His sore feet lead in his boots. Fuck, he needed to sit and relax. The day had been long with winnowing and flying to the edge of the Spring Court, awaiting word from Eris.
One of Az's most trusted spies failed to check in after nearing the border of Autumn from Winter. When Azriel informed Eris, the heir to Autumn held onto his arrogant mask. But for a split second, the Spymaster noticed a twinge of apprehension flash in his golden eyes. Eris vowed he'd follow up and left in a blazing conflagration.
'Sleep,' his shadows spoke. 'Go to bed, Shadowsinger.'
For once, he agreed with his meddlesome friends.
His shuffling gait made quick work of the dim hall leading to his bedroom. He couldn't wait to strip off his leathers. Scrub off the grime in a nice bath. Sink into his comfy bed, cool sheets against his bare skin—
Out of the corner of his eye, Azriel noticed lights on in the library. He backtracked two steps and stared.
Gwyn sat in the indigo chair, her legs tucked under, her elbow propped on the armrest. A novel lay in her lap, unopened. She wasn't reading. Her chin rested on her fist, eyes focused on the brewing storm out the window, deep in thought.
He cleared his throat. She turned to the sound, blinking rapidly. Her back stiffened as soon as their eyes met, a look which she quickly averted, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.
"Good evening, Berdara." Thunder crashed at the same instant, and she jolted in her seat.
"Good evening," she replied in a small voice, placing the book on the low table beside her. "Nesta and Cassian are at…"
Azriel strode over the threshold and onto the elegant rug in front of the unlit hearth. "I saw the memo." His eyes fixated on the book. Another romance judging from the two half-naked characters on the front. "Doing a little reading?"
"I came up to train some more." Obvious since she was in her leathers. "But it looked like it was going to storm so I came inside." The rain started coming down in sheets, lashing against the window. "Looks like you came home just in time." She rose, glancing at her booted feet. "I actually should head back to the library."
He should let her go, let the conversation rest for another time… "Gwyn, wait." He paused, trying to talk himself out of this as his shadows shivered in silent anticipation. "We need to talk."
She halted, keeping her back to him. "About?"
"About last night," he said while rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.
The nape of hers crimsoned. Fuck it all. Azriel was right; she felt embarrassed. As she spun around, his heart nearly split in two when he looked upon her, eyes lined with silver.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice wavering. "I didn't know what I was doing, and I just did it without thinking or asking and I'm sure it was terrible…"
"Wait. Stop," he cut short her spiraling, his heart pounding. "Gwyn, you think I didn't like it? The kiss?"
Her watery gaze searched his. "You didn't even move or kiss back so...yeah. You just kind of laid there like a dead fish on a bank." A dead fish? He bit back a laugh as she tilted her head in question. "What did you want me to think?"
Well, she had a point. He stepped forward until they were close enough to share breath. "I didn't move for two reasons. First, you caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting any of that. Especially the kiss. And two? I didn't want to scare you. Because I really want to kiss you back and I wasn't sure if you were ready."
Surprise widened her eyes as her fingers rubbed her lower lip. "You did?"
He bobbed his head, gently tugging her hand away from her mouth. "I do. I want to kiss you." Azriel paused. He reached up, palm hovering above Gwyn's cheek, but not daring to touch her skin. Not yet. "May I kiss you, Gwyneth?"
Her shocked inhale was audible, but she nodded all the same whispering a faint, "Yes." Gwyn leaned her soft cheek into his open hand, her skin so delicate, so pure under his mangled flesh.
He tilted her head back, her eyes already drifting shut. Leaning down, Azriel pressed his lips to her cheek, then her jaw, and halted over her mouth, feeling her breath puff over his.
And then Azriel kissed her. He kept it lazy and sweet, his thumb making soothing strokes over her jawline. Taking his time memorizing those lips, searing the moment into his memory. Because Az would never forget this. His hands were shaky, his heart hammering against his ribs. Mother above, it was like he was fifteen again.
He trembled when her hands drifted over his chest and looped around his neck, careful of his wings, hauling him closer until there was a mere inch between them. So near Azriel could feel the heat of Gwyn through their layers of garments, scent the shift in her body. Gods knew there was no hiding the change in him. And if Gwyn scooted any closer, she would feel exactly how much she affected him.
The wind howled outside the library window; the storm ramping up as he pressed harder, licking tenderly across the seam of her lips...and stayed. Azriel was a master of how far to take things, gauging reactions to know when things went too far or not far enough. They shared gasps as he waited for Gwyn to decide. Stop there or… Gwyn opened up for him. He couldn't hold the groan that escaped as he happily accepted the invitation.
The kiss deepened, and Az smiled as he playfully nipped her lower lip. She trembled, and he captured her surprised moan. It didn't take Gwyn long to glide her tongue over his purposefully, learning. Stroking. Teasing.
Azriel could happily die right there. Or happily live off the sweet, exquisite taste of her. Either way was just fucking fine.
His blood was a flame in his veins, and he burned for more. So much more. To take it further, to savor everything. But he wouldn't push her or scare her. Gwyn asked for a kiss. And godsdamn that was what he would give her, and nothing more.
Slowing it down, Az drew back, pressing softy against her damp lips. He rested his forehead against hers, their noses grazing.
"As you can see." A gentle kiss to her cheek. "I liked your kiss." A reverent one upon her other cheek. "I like you, Gwyneth Berdara." And there it was. Azriel's petrified words rolled out as quickly as the roaring of the distant thunder. His hand wandered to her nape, running a thumb over the top of her spine. Male pride flowed through him when she shivered against his palm.
"You do," she asked, her voice breathy and soft.
He nodded before answering, "Yeah, I do." The words were out and there was nothing left to do but wait until the shit hit the...
She smiled widely, brushing her nose against the bridge of his. Her arms tightened around his collar as she held him and whispered against his mouth, "Well, that's a good thing because I like you too, Azriel." His legs nearly went out from underneath him as relief coursed through him with those words. Her nose scrunched, brows drawn together as she gaped up at him. "So, what do we do now?"
"Whatever you wish, Gwyn. Everything or nothing. Anything in between." He shrugged. "It's your call, priestess."
"I don't know how to do any of this," she giggled.
Azriel snorted with an exhale. "Me neither."
Gwyn's eyes widened, a single auburn eyebrow raised in confusion. "But last night, you said…I thought…"
He shook his head. "I was never with either of those girls. A relationship?" Gods, even the word felt foreign on his tongue. "I've never done this with anyone. But, I'd like to try with you."
"I'd like to try too." She nibbled her lip. "So what are we then?"
"Whatever you want us to be."
She tapped a finger to her chin, a smirk spreading across her beautiful freckled face. "Funny you should ask. I require a full-time guide for my many upcoming adventures. So what do you say, Shadowsinger?"
He grinned, placing a quick peck on her brow. His mouth moved to the shell of her ear. "It's my honor."
"Azriel." The way Gwyn spoke his name like a plea struck him in the chest. "Would you kiss me again? And not like the kiss I gave you yesterday." She wrinkled her nose. Gods, she was fucking adorable. "Like— like the one you just gave me." Gwyn's desire came out in a breathless rush, her eyes darting between his eyes to his mouth.
Azriel smirked, drawing her close. She wrapped her arms around his wide shoulders. He cupped her face and kissed her then, just as she requested. And for one godsdamn moment in Azriel's life, everything was perf—
"Well, well, well." A male voice rumbled from the doorway. Fuck. "Looks like someone is going to need a chaperone."
Azriel and Gwyn froze, their faces hot, blush coloring their cheeks as they pulled apart and gazed toward the entry.
Cassian stood propped against the threshold, eyebrows wagging with an arm around Nesta, who was grinning fondly at her friend.
Gwyn shrieked and hid her face in the crook of Azriel's neck, which was just fine with him.
"Come on, Cassian. Give them space," Nesta ordered, tugging on her mate's massive bicep.
"Aww, come on, Nes! Turnabout is fair—oof" The large Illyrian grunted as his mate elbowed him in the ribs. "Just remember the dining table incident, Az. Payback is a sweet royal bitch."
"Dining table incident," Gwyn asked as Cassian's boisterous howl ended on another grunt courtesy of Nesta's pointed elbow again.
Azriel narrowed his eyes and threw his brother the middle finger. Cassian bellowed, returning the lewd gesture before stalking after his female, holding his side.
Gwyn loosed a happy sigh, her breath heating Az's skin. Azriel wrapped an arm around her shoulders, resting his chin atop her head.
"You okay," he inquired, needing to check on her.
She nodded reassuredly, pulling back, staring up at him with those large, hopeful blue-green eyes. "Can we finish that kiss now?"
A surprised laugh burst from Azriel as he dipped his mouth back to Gwyn's, gladly finishing what he started as his shadows swirled around them in celebration.