SUMMARY: Azriel faces his choices last Solstice and Elain. Gwyn and Azriel talk about their future and come to a decision.

NOTES: Guys, I am so blown away by your reviews and comments. I am truly amazed at the response to my story and I just want to thank you all for reading! Truly, you guys are the reason I keep putting pen to paper. Thank you!

Also, life has become extremely busy (2 kids in school, working from home, etc) and though I really try to update 2x a week, it's becoming a bit daunting. So, I decided I'm going to update ACOWAS at least 1x a week for sure on Wednesdays (Hump Day seems fitting ?). That way I will have plenty of time on the weekends to get everything done and write. Work/Life balance and all that.

Also, heads up, I just joined Tumblr as mystical-blaise and will be sharing teasers for the next chapters.

His body was frozen. Unable to move. To breathe around the tension seizing his chest, the same spiraling down his arms to clenched fists resting at his sides.

Elain.

Elain. The once-broken girl who opened her heart to him and only him.

The female Azriel once believed would be his above all else. That the Cauldron had made a mistake and they were destined.

Elain. Whose sweet scent alone had at one time brought him to his knees in surrender. The cool, steady water to her eldest sister's scorching silver flames. The radiant day to offset her youngest sister's midnight.

His eyes narrowed on Elain's purely innocent face. "I don't think Elain likes me."

Elain. The same female who made Gwyn feel unpleasant at Rita's recently.

"Elain," Azriel greeted, indifference delineating his expression.

Her petal-soft lips curved up as she caressed the navy fur-lined cloak, drawing the dense fabric closer to her body as a barrier against the brisk night. Her exposed cheeks flushed from the icy wind. Or at least he hoped the added color came from the breeze alone. Mother, spare him.

"Chilly evening to be strolling the gardens," he remarked casually, though in honesty was more of a query. Why wasn't Elain with their family in the warm house? Considering this was her beloved nephew's first Solstice, the fact Elain hadn't arrived at all this eve was strange. Curious. Was this a sheer coincidence to encounter her out wandering the wintry grounds? Was she avoiding somebody in the household? Nesta? Lucien? Gwyn?

Or was Elain following him?

"I was determining whether to go in," Elain softly confessed with a modest smile. A smile that still affected him. Because Azriel remembered when nothing made Elain smile or laugh at all. And when she was the one person who made him grin. "And you?"

"I required a moment by myself."

"Ah." Elain drifted forward, close enough to sense the warmth of her body at his side even through the many layers of fabric. She tipped her head back, staring up at the constellations appearing as diamonds against crushed velvet. Snow settled on her dark, long lashes. "Seems like the last Solstice was merely yesterday, does it not?"

Elain grabbed him before he was able to elude. Slender fingers he used to imagine on his bare body wrapped around his wrist. They seemed to be wrong now. In every sense, this was wrong.

As he slipped the mask on, a muscle in his jaw worked. "The last Solstice was another lifetime, Elain."

The moment they nearly kissed while her unsuspecting mate slept beneath the same roof. When Azriel thought she held the answers to all his forgotten prayers. Held the key to unlock his happiness. Pictured them flourishing from the ashes. When he'd wanted to seduce her. Envisioned Elain coming apart beautifully under him in bed, tasting her sweet desire on his tongue. A time when he would have relished the fact she grabbed him with interest. When Azriel would have interlaced those fingers on his forearm with hers before carrying her away.

However, that was before a pitiful and resentful shadowsinger stumbled upon a sword-wielding priestess. Alone in the dead of night, her entire focus fixed upon a streaming white ribbon in the moonlight. Gwyn was relentless in everything she did, even when it came to coaxing every laugh and smile he could muster. She trusted him. Questioned him. Challenged him. Forced him beyond his comfort zone.

Elain Archeron may once have been the softness to his razor-sharpness. The gentleness to his brutality. The floral balm to his wounded soul.

But Gwyneth Berdara met him steel to steel. Blade to blade. She faced his scarred, shadowy soul. Stood before it, and saw every bleak part. Embraced him for who he was, the faults and flaws. The trauma and rage. Despite the darkness, she loved him for who he was.

Gwyn loved him.

The shadowsinger gently released Elain's hold.

A time once existed when Elain would have shown regret for her impulsive actions. A shade of embarrassment would have bloomed on her cheeks. But now? The middle Archeron was clearly composed of tougher stuff, had built armor around her. Stronger, surer now than even a year ago. Her burnt caramel eyes met his unflinching. Unfazed. Unafraid.

"Indeed. How things evolve over a single year, Azriel." Her eyes became somber and churning. Although unseen, his shadows quivered strangely.

"Yes," he answered, his tone even. "Much has changed."

A year ago, Azriel would have whisked her away at her word. One year ago, she would have been his only. And now?

"Elain, are you alright?"

A step back accompanied her scowl. "As you walked away from me and us, I am confident you forfeited the opportunity to question my happiness and well-being, Azriel."

He stumbled back and flared his nostrils, creating much-needed space between them.

Even though time had passed, Azriel remembered what he'd told Elain the day of the ceremony. Take some time to think, he told her. To figure out what she truly wanted. That he'd support whatever decision she made. The only thing he wanted for her was to be happy. Even after Azriel finished speaking, silence reigned. Leaving him with nothing more than embarrassment, awkwardness, and a fractured relationship.

"I walked away? I told you to take time, to decide on your mate, Elain. And you said nothing ."

Her umber eyes rolled. "Oh, my mate; always my Cauldron-damned mate."

"Yes. The one you've been sitting on for years."

Even Az admitted even though he had no love for the poor bastard, he pitied Lucien. To have your mate at your fingertips, to be close enough to overhear their heartbeats, and to get nothing had to be maddening. The ultimate form of torture.

"You and I have nothing to do with Lucien," Elain replied as if the name had a bitter taste. "This has everything to do with you and your lies. You lied to me," she spat, pitching forward as her body trembled. Her knuckles turned white where she was pinching the cloak closed.

Rolling the tension from his shoulders, Az cocked his head in question. His wings flared. This was not the conversation he wanted. No, not tonight. No, never, but especially not tonight. His mind was filled with only one female, and this Solstice, it was not the one standing before him, tormenting his thoughts. "I did no such thing, Elain."

"You said you would wait!"

"I waited for you to make up your damn mind and you offered neither party a straight answer!"

"No, you let Rhysand push you around and you gave in to his demands!"

He narrowed his eyes. "How did you know? So, you knew and didn't say a word?"

"What was there to say, Azriel? He ordered, and you obeyed. Yet still doesn't change the fact that you lied to me."

Azriel let out a ragged breath, shaking his head. She knew. Elain knew what Rhysand asked of him. All this time, yet never said a word. Not one damn word. Why?

"Azriel…" When he turned to leave, she spoke again. "You gave her my necklace."

The shadowsinger's boots skid over the slippery frozen dew on the grass as he reeled back. The rock's glass slipped from his hands, the ground cushioning the fall.

"I noticed at Nesta's mating ceremony." The middle Archeron took several steps forward, her deep blue cloak now open, flapping wildly in the frigid air around her. Her hair tangled, framing her delicate features in a wild golden mane. "Don't even bother denying, Azriel. I saw ."

What he could truly say? Azriel had done it. Given a gift to Gwyn, that was first meant for Elain. All he'd wanted was for the cursed jewelry to bring someone happiness. For the damnable thing to not burn a burdensome hole in his pocket.

Imagining the chain on the priestess's neck, and dreaming about her joy when she received it, he wanted Gwyn to have it. In Azriel's distraught mind, the necklace belonged in grateful hands rather than collecting dust back in the display case of the Palace of Thread and Jewels. The necklace was supposed to bring happiness, not bring trouble and heartache.

"Do you still deny?" Elain asked with a chin tilt, defiant.

Before answering, he swallowed his guilt. "No."

"So you did lie to me that day."

"I did no such thing." And he hadn't. His relationship with Gwyneth was not romantic for a long time after that day. Sometime between last Solstice and Starfall, they'd established a friendship. Things progressed from there.

It wasn't until the night Gwyn told Azriel he deserved someone's whole heart. How she thought him brave. Kind. Fearless. Selfless. When she said he believed he was worthy of love. The memorable night she'd leaned over and softly kissed him for the first time. Not until then had he seen Gwyn as anything other than a cherished friend—long after Elain had cornered him at Nesta and Cassian's ceremony.

"I asked if there was anyone else, and you said no, Azriel." Elain's full lips thinned into a straight line. "She was wearing the charm at the ceremony! Indisputable proof of your blatant lie!"

"I wasn't lying! At the time, there was only you."

Only secrecy and shame. Bitterness and resentment. Heartache and hope.

Her sarcastic laughter was stinging. "I saw the damn rose charm on her bracelet before I even asked you the fucking question, Azriel!"

He raked his hands through his hair, dragging at the ends in frustration. "Yes. I gave her the necklace. A necklace which you refused, in case you forgot. At the time, I gave it to her as a present from one friend to another. Nothing more."

Derision dripped from her answering laugh. "What, Azriel, lost the receipt? Didn't want store credit? Or were you deliberately trying to woo her at the same time you were working your way into my bed?"

Those words slit long-closed wounds, like a knife.

"None, Elain. She was a friend." Barely even a friend if he were to be sincere. At that point, Gwyn was merely an acquaintance, though friendship was visible on the horizon with every laugh she enticed from him with her tenacity and irreverence. All of this happened long before Gwyneth Berdara stole his heart.

And Azriel had been right; love shouldn't be so damn hard. And love wasn't.

In an instant, Elain's chest was almost touching his. Backing up, he maintained distance.

"Tell me, Shadowsinger. Did you give her the necklace before or after you heard her sing?"

Heaviness developed in the pit of his stomach like dread-laden ballast stone. "What? Why does that even matter?"

"For once, just tell me the godsdamn truth, Azriel! Did you offer her the necklace before or after she sang in your presence?" Elain pushed again, her voice shrill and on the verge of faltering.

The tumbled glass long forgotten in the snowbank, Azriel retreated two strides towards the river home. "Elain, why in the hell do you care?"

"Because she's going to be the death of you, Azriel!"

As if struck by an arrow, he staggered back, hand to his chest. "What happened to you, Elain? Are you truly so petty?"

Over the bridge of her nose, her brows fell into a deep vee, aghast. "Funny calling someone petty after giving my gift to another girl. But no matter. I'm not. Nor am I awed by Gwyneth Berdara. Perhaps in another life, we'd be friends. But you don't understand. Azriel, I've seen—"

He shook his head slowly, emphatically. " No. You don't get to play these games with her, Elain. I'm not listening to another word you have to say. I don't know what happened to you this year. I wish I did so I could help you. But then you literally pinned my ass against the wall in the river house to reignite the feud with Rhysand—"

"I was desperate, Azriel! Desperate for your touch. Your company," she said, with full, innocent eyes. "I needed you, Azriel. I wanted you and I was so lonely without—"

Sardonic laughter accompanied his decisive forward movement. "Bullshit. Do you think I'm blind, Elain? I saw how you glanced back when Rhysand appeared. How you smirked. You caused a scene in the corridor on purpose." A further step away. "I care about you, Elain, and I'm worried. Even the incident in the hall, I might have forgiven as a lack of forethought. I may have listened to what you have to say. But…" His tone lowered, shadows slithered and seethed over his shoulders. "Then you treated Gwyn like mud under your shoe the night at Rita's. You made her feel like shit for no reason."

With a glower on her face, she scoffed. "Everything comes back to her, Azriel. Past. Present. Future. And let me tell you, your future doesn't look so pleasant with—"

"Enough, Elain!"

"Azriel, please, you need to know what I saw!"

"No, I actually don't." He stepped backward, never taking his eyes off of the shivering girl in the snow. One who used to be as soft and endearing as rose petals, now hidden behind burs and thorns. "I'm only going to give you one warning, Elain. Since you can't seem to play nice with her, stay away from Gwyn."

"Azriel, please listen to me." Panic filled her eyes as she rushed forward and he stepped back.

"Stay away from her, Elain. And me."

A gust of wind whipped her cloak in the air and her warning echoed in his head as he reeled on his heels and headed for the house. She's going to be the death of you.

Her troubled mind was as meandering as her feet through the hallways of the river estate. The solstice celebration wound down, with most too happily drunk to attempt the trek or flight home. Each couple had made their way to their respective chambers for the night. Well, in truth, some had to be carried. Which left Gwyn on her own, with merely her worried speculations for company.

A tingle of unease swept across her spine as the imposing mahogany clock in the corridor chimed midnight.

Mother above, where was Azriel?

He'd been noticeably tense the entire night. Quiet even for the shadowsinger. And mostly indecipherable. And then he'd escaped, leaving her alone with his family. Even though she had enjoyed herself, Gwyn missed him.

Although Azriel leaving to seek personal space wasn't uncommon, fear nagged at the back of her mind. Last night, she'd revealed how she truly felt. Her words were simple; she wasn't falling anymore. No, she had fallen. Harder and faster than she could have ever imagined. Ever dreamed.

Cauldron, had Az disappeared because of what she declared last night? Was he actively avoiding her because she'd admitted she loved him? The idea made her stomach drop.

Then again, he said nothing back. Hadn't returned her affections in words. Though, the shadowsinger was not one for sonnets and elegant words. But if you truly love someone, shouldn't you tell them?

Gwyn's nimble fingers twisted the charm on her bracelet, the one someone gifted her a year before. The one she'd always assumed Azriel had left for Clotho by process of elimination. She'd asked Nesta, who had not. Emerie as well. Cassian would not have bought something so dainty and thoughtful. She'd barely known Rhysand other than by his association with priestesses. Only one viable suspect remained; Azriel.

A year ago, the shadowsinger had secretly given her the necklace.

And in the year since life flourished and changed. Gwyn found herself again. Defined who she was without the cumbersome robes. Became who she suspected Catrin always wished them to be.

Gwyn's light footsteps whispered across the hardwood as she wandered the hallways, heading to the room where she suspected Azriel may have retreated. Still, she couldn't resist using her spy skills as she strolled, listening briefly to conversations behind locked doors as she passed by.

"... thinks we need to send her away, Feyre… appears to be something amiss in his mind, and I tend to agree... do you deny she's changed?... "

"... needs to be here with her family. Sending her off will only exacerbate the issue... "

Five quiet steps over the wooden floor to the next room.

"... kills me to picture such a sweet girl spending a night like a Solstice without family, Nes…"

"... honestly ready… a colossal responsibility…."

"... talk to Rhysand and see what he says… think we should do this. She's a sweetheart, Cassian."

"... seems very kind. And you're sure she has no other ... "

She moved on. The voices next door were merely girlish giggles in the adjoining room. Morrigan and Emerie. The next thing Gwyn overheard were eager moans accompanying the whine of a bed, which had the Valkyrie rushing down the hall with her face blazing.

Behind the following closed door, all Gwyn discerned was the distinctive crinkle of turning pages. Someone was reading in silence. Lucien, she presumed.

Inky darkness hovered over the floor like a mist as she neared the end of the corridor, slithering beneath a doorjamb. When Gwyn opened the door, complete and utter darkness greeted her, as if a stormy fog shrouded the entire room. But amid the ominous darkness was music. Within a rich timbre and perfect pitch, a male sang in the depths. Umbrae swayed in time.

Oh, my gods.

Azriel.

Gwyn tiptoed, seeking the melodious sounds without being able to stop herself. The dense shadows thinned out into tendrils of mist around the shadowsinger standing by a bedside. Nyx was restless as Azriel leaned over the crib, his scarred fingers stroking the baby's black downy hair as he sang.

Shock flashed in his hazel eyes as he realized his shadows never alerted him of her presence—again. She smirked.

Azriel cleared his throat, a slight blush rising on his cheeks. "Sorry. I heard him fussing as I was heading home to get you. Lullabies and the dark soothe him," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Oddly, his shadows shrunk as soon as he ceased singing. Nyx whimpered, thrashing his tiny arms and balling fists against the mattress. But Azriel's attention was wholly fixed on her.

"You walked through the shadows," Azriel replied roughly, and Gwyn nodded.

"I did."

His face showed something else she was unable to read.

"Well," she began, tucking an escaped strand of her ponytail behind her right ear. "I heard you."

He shot her a pointed look. "Eavesdropping, Berdara?"

She had been doing exactly that. Not that she would ever fess up. "I ran into your shadows, so I gave chase. I apologize for interrupting you. You have a wonderful voice… Shadowsinger. "

"Does this count as you finally getting to hear me sing?"

She chuckled, nibbling her lower lip. "I suppose this clears you of your debt a year later."

With a weak laugh, Azriel started anew, peering down at the baby, crooning a lullaby Gwyn remembered. A lullaby she couldn't help but join. They sang together as one. Two bodies, one voice in perfect harmony. His shadows swayed and swirled, danced to the measure. Embracing them in the dark.

With each note and lyric, she delivered unto the Mother a prayer with the hopes of sound sleep for the babe. Of peacefulness and comfort. Of sweet dreams. A silent night. Gwyn had a thought as he wiggled about in discomfort, and she spread her palm over his hard little tummy and rubbed soothing circles as she hummed.

Suddenly, a soft light flared in the center of shadows. A faint, ethereal radiance. But as Gwyn peered down at her hand, she noticed the light was, in fact, from her. Cauldron save her. She was glowing. A soft silvery radiance emanated from her skin and over the footed onesie. Nyx gazed up at her with bobbing, sleepy eyes, his breathing evening out as she duetted with the shadowsinger. Their united voices the only tethers to this world.

Even after Nyx fell fast asleep, they continued harmonizing until the last refrain. And with the final drawn-out note, their shadows and light dimmed, and they lingered beside the crib. When she finally glanced up, Azriel's silver-lined gaze latched on hers. In wonder. In yearning.

Gwyn's gaze shifted away from his intense stare, to the now sleeping child, watching his little chest rise and fall. Azriel joined his throat working as he leaned his forearms on the dark wooden railing. As they gawked at the sleeping boy, they watched his button-nose crinkle and wings twitch as he slept. She let out a contented sigh.

"Do you want one?" Azriel's abrupt question startled her.

"I— I suppose if someday I found the right person to raise children with, and we weren't facing an impending war. " Gwyn chuckled softly. "If the Mother blessed me, I'd like a whole gaggle of them."

The corners of his lips twitched. "If everyone waited until there was no impending threat? No one would have children, Berdara." Even though she knew he was trying to be easy, she nonetheless agreed. A very depressing truth.

She glanced at him sidelong. "Do you? "

He heaved out a slow sigh and shrugged. "If you asked me a year ago, I would have said having children wasn't up to me. Having a child was never going to be an option."

"And now?" She held her breath.

"I suppose if someday I found the right person to raise children with, and we weren't facing an impending war," he said, repeating her words. Her heart leaped. His lips quirked as his hand moved along the wooden railing and set over hers.

The door closed softly behind them as they slipped out of the room without a sound. Leaving behind a slumbering babe breathing soft, heavy breaths.

"Where were you tonight?" Gwyn asked as they stood in the hallway holding hands.

"I needed some time alone." An anxious expression adorned his face. "How was the party?"

"Fine. It was nice."

"Nothing happened out of the ordinary?"

Her auburn brow arched. "No, not really. Varian had to carry Amren up to bed. Cassian did indeed end up twisted up in fir garland, drunkenly yelling he was a tree. And then asked Nesta to climb him." Gwyn smiled at the memory, realizing this was the first holiday she'd spent with family in years. She'd forgotten the laughter and warmth. "I had fun, actually. Although I was bothered by your absence. I was worried, Azriel."

Concerned she'd run him off. Worried her words had done more harm than good.

Worried….

A soft kiss brushed across her cheek as he leaned forward. Then one to the tip of her nose, her other cheek. The corner of her mouth. Her pulse quickened.

"Happy Solstice, Gwyneth." His lips pressed against her again as he whispered. "May I please take you home?"

A shiver ran through Gwyn's entire body at his words, echoing what she had asked on the rooftop of Rita's. The implications caused her stomach to dip, tighten. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, licking his as she did so. As his hands gripped hers, she felt dizzy.

This. This was it. No turning back. And, sweet Cauldron, she didn't want to.

Three years ago, she'd been bleeding out from open wounds. A broken doll rescued and discarded, barely held together at the seams.

Two years ago, she'd found her feet and discovered a purpose. Found something to look forward to. Regained her voice. Identified her passions and courage.

A year ago tonight, Gwyn had been sparring alone, endeavoring to defeat a mighty ribbon. A year ago, Azriel happened upon her on the rooftop. Helped her. Coached and bolstered her confidence. After which, they'd become good friends. And then more.

And now?

Her breasts pressed against his defined chest muscles as Gwyn stepped closer, crowding him. Never mind that they were in the heart of the river house and could be caught. Somehow, that thought only intensified the passion. Her hand slid along the black tunic until it came to rest on exposed skin, palming the side of his neck. She traced the intricate onyx swirls with her fingertips as his pulse thundered under her hand. His wings fluttered as she worked her way slowly across the peaks of his ink. Hunger darkened his eyes. Mother, help her. She wanted to be devoured.

"Gwyn?"

She gripped his neck with her hand and pulled him into a kiss. As she licked his mouth, his teeth grazed her lip. The little nip curled her toes and caused heat to pool between her legs.

They kissed like a song. When Azriel took over, the adagio harmony became a cadenza. His hand found the back of her head, angling her how he wanted. Taking the kiss deeper and slanting his mouth. They kissed and kissed, their tempo increasing from a slow largo to frantic allegro. Desire slid over her skin, firing through her nerves. From a simple melody, they created a rhapsody.

A twisting and stroking of tongues. Tempting and teasing. Lust forged ahead as hands roved and pursued. Until the idea of what Gwyn wanted was beyond doubt. She needed this. Needed him.

As Gwyn stretched back, their rough breaths mingled in the scant space between them. Not looking away from those heated hazel eyes, she gave him his answer. "Yes, Azriel. You can take me home."

As his relieved sigh shook her chest, she smiled.

"Thank fuck," Azriel said as he reclaimed the distance and kissed her gently, reverently.

In just seconds, they were engulfed in darkness and mist and whisked away until their feet met solid ground again. Gwyn whirled around, taking in her surroundings as the shadowsinger stepped away. Her eyes grew wide. Glancing at him, she angled her head in confusion.

"Azriel, where are we?"

Next chapter, everyone. Next! Freaking! Chapter! FINALLY!