SUMMARY: The end of Starfall leads to a startling revelation.

NSFW

I am shooting for next Friday for the update. If not, Saturday.

The world whirled by, a twisting kaleidoscope of colors. Laughter echoed around them. Musical notes and beats. A rhapsody of celebration. Of joy.

This, Gwyn realized. This was how the Mother had envisioned. Veneration, prayers, and offerings were great. But tonight was more than holy words. This was a night of new beginnings. Of living.

And Gwyneth Berdara was living.

Spun from friend to friend. Love to love. Azriel. Nesta. Emerie. By this point, her feet ached from dancing under the starlight. Her cheeks ached from smiling and laughing.

Until once again, she found herself in Azriel's arms, wisps of darkness gracefully following across the balcony floor. And this time Gwyn was sober enough to realize—the shadowsinger was an exceptional dancer. He led her as he did through any training exercise, with awareness and expertise.

In the swirling haze, their eyes connected even as Azriel twirled her, his arm around her and hand in her own, bringing them together once more. The warm weight of his palm flat on her lower back secured her and sent Gwyn floating all at once. Her fingers skimmed the luxurious fabric of his perfectly tailored black jacket, tracing embroidered ebony thread on the shoulders, reminding Gwyn of his shadows.

There was something special about tonight.

Gwyn could sense it in the air as if charged. Potent and rejuvenating. There was something in the shadowsinger's hazel eyes tonight. He'd watched her. She'd noticed. Initially, she worried it was born of concern. But, the more Gwyn felt it, felt him, she grasped it was quite the opposite…

Azriel's intense gaze dipped to her mouth and back in silent permission. And when she angled her head, her eyes flitting shut as she leaned in, seeking his lips, a throat cleared beside them.

"Alright, Az, move your ass. It's my turn with Gwynnie," a finely dressed Cassian stated without asking if he could cut in.

Azriel growled, the hand on her lower back tugging her tighter against him. Her cheek fell against his shoulder and she could swear a growl rumbled deep within.

"Come on, you moody prick, sharing is caring," his younger brother said, holding his hand out, wiggling his fingers in her direction.

"Az," Gwyn mumbled into his chest. She raised her face and found Azriel staring intently at Cassian over her. She lifted her hand, tilting his face towards hers. "I'll be right back. I promise." She kissed his chin, offering her hand, squealing as Cassian dragged her into his embrace.

And as Cassian drew her into a proper hold, he admitted, "I've had limited practice at being good at this shit, so I apologize in advance for stepping on your toes."

Gwyn snorted. "Don't worry. If Az wasn't leading me, I would have been a lost cause."

"Somehow I doubt that. One would assume a nymph would lean on grace and fluidity."

"You've seen me run, Cass. I'm quick, but how many times have I tripped on air?"

Now it was his turn to snort at the absurdity. "True. Well, if it becomes unbearable, just stand on my feet like Tulia did."

The picture of Cassian hunched forward, young Tulia in her frilly iridescent pale blue dress standing on his massive shoes as he guided her, warmed Gwyn's heart. The House of Wind was the perfect family for her dear little friend.

Cassian did indeed step on her toes. The two of them cackled, clutching onto each other to hold one another upright.

"Well, it seems I'm going to have to return you soon, Gwynnie. Az is giving me that look," Cassian snickered into her ear. His enormous hand shifted behind her back, and the dark laugh that came out of him was full of mischief.

Gwyn glanced over her left shoulder, finding Azriel dancing with Nesta, the two of them immersed in conversation. Nesta dressed in Night Court black with a high collar and plunging bodice, speaking with her dance partner, Azriel answered with a simple nod or a tightened jaw.

Inquisitively, the redheaded Valkyrie tilted her head. "What in the Cauldron do you think they're talking about?"

Cassian cleared his throat and said, in a high-pitched voice, "Watch your feet, you bat."

"Sorry, Nesta. I don't enjoy dancing because I don't care for fun things," Gwyn muttered, tone deepening.

Her hulking partner snorted in amusement. On and on they jested as they watched the other pair dance. But Mother, the two of them dancing? Azriel spun Nesta out. She rotated on pointe, her exposed leg bared to the thigh from the high slit of her black dress.

But if Nesta was dancing with Azriel, and she was dancing with Cassian, where was…

"Tulia! Slow down!"

A blur of blue and giggles ran by and a soft smile spread over Cassian's face as he spun Gwyn out and into another chest. The General bent down, scooping up the tiny, squealing sprite of a girl—a girl who carried a pilfered cupcake in each hand.

"So, you've been thieving, have you?" Cassian asked, an eyebrow arched as he held her out in front of him. Tulia's shrug made the body suddenly next to her shake with laughter.

"You know you have to ask, Tulia," the Illyrian general said, trying his best to keep a straight face as the little mousey-headed child merely offered him a cupcake in a silent bribe. He huffed, setting her back on her sparkling sky-blue slippers. "Fine, just don't tell Nes, okay?"

Beaming wide, the little girl nodded and dragged Cassian off to share the stolen confectionery wealth.

Another velvet chuckle and babbling sounded beside her before she noticed small pats on her bare shoulder from a tiny hand. Only when she finally turned did she notice the chest she'd bumped into was none other than that of the High Lord of the Night Court, who was holding his infant son, who was…

"That is the most precious thing I've ever seen," Gwyn admired, taking in Nyx in a matching navy suit to his father, only about ten times smaller.

Rhysand's violet eyes sparkled, twilight glinting within as he peered at his young son, who was currently busy petting the soft fabric on his sleeve. Dropping his face, the High Lord planted a kiss on the chubby cheek of the raven-haired babe. Gwyn's heart pinched.

And when Rhys turned his attention back to Gwyn, he said, "I'm glad you could join us this year, Gwyn."

She bowed her head. "I'm thrilled to take part. It's all truly magical."

Rhysand's smile grew from pleasant to devastatingly beautiful. "And fun."

She couldn't help but meet the measure of his grin. "Yes. Great fun."

He swiveled slightly, seeing Azriel now dancing with Mor. Rhys laughed slightly, shaking his head.

"I would offer you a dance, Gwyneth, but I'm waiting for my lovely mate to return and for Mor and Emerie to steal away the child for the night."

"Where is Feyre?" Gwyn asked, standing on her toes, searching for her. "I haven't seen her. Nesta mentioned something about a late brunch tomorrow morning and I wanted to ask her if she was going."

"Feyre darling will be there and she'll be here shortly. And then we will be—" He clicked his tongue. "Indisposed for the rest of the evening."

Gwyn wrung her hands; her face heating slightly as she tucked an errant hair behind the arch of her ear. She could swear a slight color stained the prominent ridges of Rhysand's bronze cheeks.

The High Lord's eyes drifted to Azriel, seeing Mor and him locked in an embrace, whispering to each other. And when they separated, the beautiful blonde had tears in her eyes.

"I never thought I'd see the day," Rhysand said, quietly.

Gwyn watched as Rhysand's cousin sauntered over to grab ahold of her nephew. Mor reached out, catching her forearm. "You can have him back now, Gwyn. He's all yours."

Was he ever so at ease? Content? Never in the shadowsinger's recent memory. Certainly not the last Starfall. Not with the danger to Feyre. Not with Rhysand eyeing him like a hawk over Elain.

Holding Gwyn in his arms as they swayed to the music, the peace was unlike anything else. Her head resting on his broad shoulder, her body close to his. His shadows draped over her like a shawl.

Gwyn lifted her chin from his shoulder, her face tilting towards the sky in silent wonder. The few lingering stars tumbled across the velvet of night, reminding him of long pieces of blue ribbon.

"Interested in getting a closer view of them?" he offered with a faint smile.

The bright grin on her lips crinkled the freckles across her nose as she nodded energetically. His lips inched close to her ear as he chuckled. "Hold on."

Gwyn squealed as he gathered her up in his arms. A dull thud accompanied his landing on the roof deck at the center of the training ring.

For the first time, Azriel simply gazed at the sky with renewed awe, with Gwyn still in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder. His chin perched atop her head.

A great sigh from the young Valkyrie snagged his attention.

"What is it, Gwyn?"

"I can not believe you don't fly in this," she said, tipping her head back.

Azriel's lips twitched. "You're dying to touch them, aren't you?"

"Perhaps," she replied, a smile in her voice.

A blue star spirit was driving their way closer, lower than the rest. Azriel let go, letting his hands rest on Gwyn's waist.

Curious, her head swiveled around. "Azriel, what are you—"

As quickly as he could, he lifted Gwyn above his head. Only he hadn't taken into consideration how close the star…

Bam!

Shimmering turquoise dust exploded into mingling shadows as it hit Gwyn right in her face like a snowball. Az set her back on her feet, hands coming to her shoulders as she sputtered, wiping at her mouth and eyes. Utterly covered.

Teal eyes smoldered with rage when she opened them again.

Azriel couldn't fucking help it. Not with Gwyn's face covered in a faint green luminescent glow. Strands of reddish hair undone and sticking up like a copper crown. Still in her elegant dress, but her face set like a warrior ready for battle. His head tipped back, and he laughed. Deeply and freely.

And he couldn't fucking stop.

Gwyn lunged at him with a battle cry, tackling him. Grunting, his back hit the training pit ground with a thump.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" the Valkyrie said, scooping up bits of the fine star particles onto her fingers. She reached forward, trying her best to rub it on his face. He collected himself enough to snatch a hold of her wrists, halting her from her assault.

Her howl of frustration only made Az laugh harder. With Gwyn so rapt in trying to smear stardust on his face, he easily flipped their positions, pinning her arms at her side with his knees as he straddled her body. Her pretty face snarled up at him—now the same color as her slitting eyes. He pressed his lips together.

"Gwyn, sweetheart?"

"Don't you sweetheart me, you bastard! You did that on purpose!"

He choked back a laugh. "I actually didn't mean for one to hit you, love. I swear on the Mother."

"Don't you dare add sacrilege on top of this offense!" Gwyn snapped, scrubbing her forehead.

He cupped her cheek, his thumb gently sweeping away the pale green tint from her cheeks. From her nose, to reveal the rust-colored constellations.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I don't like not seeing your freckles."

Gwyn blinked up at him in surprise, her anger melting away like winter into spring. "What?"

"I said, I couldn't see your freckles."

Her palm lifted to her face, her fingers spreading the stardust like rouge across her skin. "You don't? I didn't believe anyone would want to see them."

His hand paused. "What? Why?"

"Catrin didn't have them. Many claimed she was the most beautiful twin."

Something inside of the shadowsinger wanted to lash out at whoever had made that claim. Made the young Valkyrie feel insufficient and self-conscious when everything he saw was flawless.

Azriel bent forward, brushing his lips over the freckles dotting her forehead. The ones across the bridge of her nose. "You're a vision, Gwyn. You've always been something extraordinary."

As their eyes met, her face edged closer. As her exhale brushed his mouth, she hesitated teasingly. Her pouty lips curved into a sly grin. Palms smacked against his face, covering fine radiant powder over his bronze skin in circles.

Gwyn choked on a laugh as she lightly patted his cheeks. The tip of his nose.

Azriel pinned her with a wry look. The weight of his lower body settled on her, and both of them inhaled sharply. She gulped, her scent shifting into something potent and undeniable.

"Did that make you feel better, Berdara?" he asked roughly, his large palm reaching to clasp her nape. Long, flowing auburn tresses tangled in his fingers.

"Actually, it did, Shadowsinger," she confessed with a playful smirk, her thumb running against his lower lip, dragging with intent. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, drawing him down, crushing him closer. The rise and fall of her chest like waves against his own. Like water against rock.

Teal eyes bounced eagerly between his eyes and his mouth. Stretching forward, her lips caressed his. Once. Twice. Tempting and sweet. Enticing and insistent.

Anything. Anything she wished, Azriel would gladly give to her. Yield to her.

'Everything,' his shadows crooned as they undulated around them, shielding them from prying eyes. 'She is everything.'

In answer to her plea, Azriel kissed her hard.

Their lips couldn't press hard enough, fast enough. A frenzied edge as her body arched into him. His lips parted hers, his tongue penetrating her mouth. Caressing and indulging. Deeper and deeper, their bodies twisting against each other, seeking.

With one last lingering flick of his tongue over her lower lip, he moved away. And when the peek of pink darted from between Gwyn's pursed lips, licking over the same spot, tasting what remained, he had enough playing with her.

"I planned on flying you to my place, but I don't think I can wait," he rasped out.

Her throat bobbed. "Probably for the best. We don't want to scare all of Velaris with your massive wingspan flying above them."

He chuckled darkly, his mouth finding hers again as they stood, holding onto each other as the shadows did around them. Consuming them in quiet darkness as the world collapsed and warped, neither letting the other go until their feet once again hit solid ground.

Something toppled to the floor as his back slammed into the wall. Gwyn's lips crashed into his, her hands clawing into his shoulders like talons. A growl of pleasure rumbled from his throat. His hands seized her hips, hoisting her up as he surged forward, her legs entwining around his waist as his arm cradled her weight.

Azriel marched straight to his bedchamber, his lips tracing the warm column of her throat as he set her on her feet.

All they were was a concert of frantic, fumbling hands and sliding fingers. A symphony of rustling fabric and reedy breath. Until all that remained were scraps of black lace and undershorts.

A rakish grin spread across Azriel's face as he picked her up and carried her to the massive bed. Gwyn squealed when he put her in the middle of the table. Taking her ankle firmly and pulling her toward the edge, he tenderly kissed her calf while removing her black heels. Careful of his wings, he tossed the first shoe over his shoulder in the opposite direction. The second one soon joined, clacking as it met the floor.

His mouth went dry as his eyes trailed over her lounging form from head to toe. A stunning display of sensual curves and strength.

The ebony mesh near bursting over those glorious creamy swells. Fuck. He wanted to pounce. To taste them. Use his tongue to brush over and between them. To have them engulf his cock as he thrust. He simply needed.

Heat pulsed through him so strongly his body vibrated as he planted a knee on the mattress, making his way over to her. Until he noticed the way she gnawed her lip. The way she wound a strand of loose hair framing her face, coiling like a serpent around her slender finger.

He paused, wings tucking in tight against his back.

"Gwyn—," he swallowed, working to control his respiration. She met his gaze, her face pinched with some unspoken question. "What's going on?"

Gwyn sighed, tossing an arm over her face.

A fist braced on the mattress beside her hip as he inclined forward. "Your mind is racing, Berdara."

She moved her pale limb off her face, and this time, he saw her eyes. The secret in them.

"I want to know, Gwyn," he crooned, gliding a hand up her outer thigh. Her eyes darkened to the richest cyan. The heightened scent of her had his eyes rolling. Mouthwatering. "You can tell me anything."

"I know. I trust you, Azriel. I'm just afraid you'll say no. And I don't want to make you uncomfortable…" Her long fingers tapped, fretting over her bare, toned stomach.

Her words, her hesitation, twisted his gut. He knelt on the bed, resting back on his heels. Azriel reached out, stilling her hand. "Just ask me."

Uncertain, wide eyes peered up at him. "I want to try again."

Hair fell across his brow as he tilted his head, unsure of what Gwyn was asking. His shadows hummed from a far corner, as if in debate amongst themselves. But they didn't dare intervene or offer counsel.

"Azriel," Gwyn started, her stare locking him in place. "I want to try. I want you to take me—from behind."

The boldness of her words sent a shiver through him to the tips of his wings. From want. From fear. A dangerous combination. Because Azriel would never deny Gwyn. But he couldn't bear causing her distress. Ever.

Azriel's heart hammered in its cage. "All right," he said, with a strained voice. "But I need you to—"

"No need to explain. Communication. Contrary to what you may believe, I remember, Shadowsinger," she said wryly. "And I agree with your terms. Shall I choose a safe word?"

His lips pressed together. "If you would like. For your comfort."

She hummed, a pale rust-flecked finger tapping her chin. "Pegasus."

He blinked. Once. Twice. "Seriously?"

"It seems like a word that wouldn't normally come out in bed."

With a snort, he rose from the bed. "Your random thoughts suggest otherwise."

Scowling up at him, Gwyn propped herself back on her elbows. "I find reading kink… arousing, but I can assure you, none of it ever involves winged horses."

"Liar. Though I'm more than willing to let you ride something with wings," Azriel said with a dark laugh and a wink.

Rolling her eyes, Gwyn snorted. "Cauldron spare me, that was simply cheesy, Shadowsinger."

"I believe a certain little Valkyrie said cheese was the way to her heart this evening."

"Using my own words against me, I see. Jerk."

Their eyes met and held, amusement fading into something charged. An intense heat ignited in his blood as Gwyn rose to her knees in the middle of the bed. His gaze raked over her body with a lingering sweep. Sable lace barely contained her heaving, plump breasts. The way the high-cut scalloped trim of her bottoms accentuated those long as hell legs and that spectacular backside.

All honed strength and Mother-blessed curves.

This lovely, brave Valkyrie.

His beautiful Gwyn. His unworthy, dark heart somehow pierced by her light.

Her certain hands reached behind her back to the clasp. He reached for the band of his undershorts. Their gazes never wavered as they hastily divested themselves of the last of their clothes.

Heat spread under Azriel's skin as those heavy, teal eyes slid over him like a touch. His skin and wings prickled. At once, his cock became achingly hard. The corner of her lips curled into a knowing grin.

Pulse quickening, he stalked forward, hauling her to him, mouth slanting overs in one movement. The kiss was punishing, open, and claiming. His rigid length tapped eagerly against her belly as they clung to one another.

After ripping away, Azriel felt an appraising gaze upon him as he advanced to the head of the bed. Sitting with legs stretched before him, his back and wings settled against the headboard. He beckoned her with a curl of a finger, his eyes intense as he commanded, "Then come here, Gwyneth."

Blood thundered in her ears. Breath reedy and uneven with anticipation. Muscles coiled low as she waited, wholly naked, straddling Azriel's lap—facing his feet. And waited.

Gwyn glanced over her shoulder in speculation. Wiggling her hips, she chuckled softly as a throaty groan resounded from the shadowsinger.

Rugged, sure hands braced her hips, thumbs tracing the dip of her waist.

"Fucking Cauldron, look at you, Gwyn. Look at us."

Raising her head, her eyes widened. She saw… herself. Saw them.

Mother above. A mirror.

Her eyes locked on the shadowsinger's reflection, his appreciative hazel staring back at her. A raven-colored brow arched.

Muscles and mind relaxed. The churning sea of nerves calming as calloused fingers traced the contour of her spine, lips chasing after them. He nudged her legs further apart, his throbbing hardness slipping between the globes of her backside, sending shivers over her skin.

Gwyn couldn't breathe. The growing ache between her thighs spread as the raised imprint of his fingertips feathered over her body. Until Az urged her shoulders forward, her palms laid flat on the down comforter. Hands gripped her thighs as he yanked her back towards the head of the bed. Towards him. Until her soles met soft pillows.

She swallowed hard.

"Still good?" He asked, his voice a guttural purr.

"Yes," she answered breathlessly, toes curling into the blankets at the warmth of his breath against sensitive flesh.

"I must admit, I love the view, Berdara."

"Does—does this view sat-satisfy… your fascination with my ass?" she stammered.

The shadowsinger's hummed approval vibrated against her. Her back bowed at the first lick of his tongue.

"Azriel," she mewled.

"Fuck, Gwyn. You are so good. I can't get enough of you."

Azriel devoted himself to proving his words. His deft tongue tortured her, lapping at her in broad strokes. Her fingernails left crescents on his muscled, tanned thighs when his tongue slid inside her. Then kissed to the apex of her thighs, where he sucked and nibbled.

Gwyn gasped, fluttering around the two long fingers slipping inside. Plunging in and out. Her body clenched as he added another. In… Out… A slow, gradual ascent.

Her gaze caught the erotic scene in the mirror. Riveted as her hips chased his rhythm, pushing back on his hand.

"Such a greedy, wicked thing. Riding my hand like a such a good girl," Azriel growled, his gaze finding hers in the mirror as his fingers pumped.

Climax shattered her into a strangled sound.

"Mmm… I need more, Gwyneth," Azriel purred, pulling her flush against him as he devoured.

The world became frenetic. Her hand blindly found his considerable rigid cock, pumping in time to the strokes of his tongue and fingers. His hips lifted off the bed when she took him in his mouth, his groans of pleasure scorching over sex.

He didn't let up. Didn't stop.

Until her hands clawed at his thighs as she rode out the ripples of another release.

Still in a dreamy haze, Gwyn suddenly found herself upright over his hips. Her mind nearly exploded at the first touch, the impressive length slipping against her. More than ready. The breath stole out of her at the first nudge of him. Before sliding in an inch. But no further. Just enough to drive her into quivering madness.

There was a moment of panic, a split second. Her body tensed. Gentle fingers folded around her throat in a delicate hold. The thumb along the side of her neck pressed down—against her racing pulse.

"Look at me," he urged. She lifted her head, her eyes connecting with his reflection.

Gwyn's heart jumped, his thumb missing nothing, smoothly circling over the thrumming.

Cauldron above. Azriel was truly beautiful.

Tousled hair the color of a raven's wing stuck in every direction. His eyes shadowed and swirled to a flecked agate. Every hard plane of his form as if cut by a chisel. Droplets of sweat clinging to tanned, tattooed muscle as he restrained himself barely inside her.

"You're in charge here, Gwyneth. I'm yours to do with what you will."

I'm yours. Something inside sparked at his admission.

Gwyn's eyes held his. Her moan married his hoarse groan as she lifted and sank down. And down. And down.

Gods. He was so deep at this angle. Deeper than she could have ever imagined possible.

She rode him, his care lining Gwyn's eyes with silver as he tenderly surged with her. She glimpsed the reflective glass again, taking Azriel in. The loose, comforting grip of his rippled palm on her throat.

But it was where he focused that had the coil in her belly near unraveling. His feral eyes—entranced by where they joined. Watching himself disappear inside her. Watching her move, she met him thrust for thrust.

In that moment, Gwyn felt powerful. A warrior conquering a trial, enjoying the spoils.

"Harder," Gwyn commanded frantically. Catching his reflected gaze ahead, she boldly slid one of her hands to cup her breast, rolling her thumb over the turgid pink peak.

His rumbling growl sent a rush of warmth to her core. A devilish grin spread over his face. He moved them as he lifted onto his knees, resting back on his heels. The heat of his body pressed against her back.

His hot breath skittered over her ear, brushing a kiss. "As you wish, Gwyneth."

Azriel's hips retracted and plunged into her. She cried out, head tipping back. His lips were at her ear, hissing pleasure with each hard thrust of him inside her increasing.

Too much. It was too much. With the loving grip on her throat, their slick skin slipped against each other as he pounded up into her. Over and over, her breasts bouncing with the punishing pace.

Their eyes again locked in the mirror. His hands slid over her body, one clasping her breast, the other skating over her flat abdomen to between her legs.

"I love you," he whispered as his thumb pressed down.

Everything inside her broke. Her body. Her heart. Fragmenting and reforming at the same time.

A hand grasped her twisted hair, turning her head. His mouth swallowed her cry with a searing kiss of tongue and teeth as helped her ride out the coursing pleasure.

And when Azriel's mouth lifted, her head slumped back onto his wide, sweat-slick shoulder, her face beaming. His lips placed reverent kisses about Gwyn's collar, his fingers slick with her, painting circles over her lower stomach.

Gwyn's chest hummed a song to the beat of the shadowsinger's erratic heart. A strangely familiar duet. As if their hearts sang the same song.

But when he pulled out still hard, she tilted her head. Azriel flipped her around, settling her back on his lap, facing him.

"I wanted to." Azriel swallowed thickly, almost as if he was unsure of his words. "I want to see you and not in the mirror." He brushed the back of his hand down her cheek. "I need to see you."

His words were so softly spoken, so tentative. A torrent of emotion washed over her.

Gwyn raised herself up on her knees. Their mouths met as she slid back onto him, guiding him home in a gasp.

Taking his scarred hand, she gently pressed her lips to the back. The most feared of the Night Court trembled. And when Azriel brought their joined hands to his chest above his beating heart, he looked at them with tears in his eyes. With the other arm, he held her tightly to him.

The pair moved as one at a languid pace. As if they had all the time in the world.

This.

There was something different about this.

There was healing.

Beginnings.

There was more to this than sex.

This was powerful.

This was intimacy.

An act of love.

As their bodies moved in harmony, they exchanged no words. Touch was their language, spoken silently with their lips. With mouths and tongues upon their skin. Again and again. Words shared as their hands remained clasped over his thundering heart.

Slowly and steadily, their hips met. Until they were panting and their skin glistened, plastering loose copper tresses to her face.

Gwyn stared at him as a hand captured her wrist, kissing her fingertips before bringing them to the soft leather wing. Within her, she felt his cock twitch in response.

"You let no one touch your wings," she intoned, her fingers frozen. "Are you sure?"

Azriel nodded deliberately.

"Words, Shadowsinger," she responded with a hint of teasing.

She stroked her fingertips downward as he rasped out, "Yes." A husky moan that rumbled across her skin punctuated his answer.

Gwyn's fingers drifted up and down his wing, matching the tempo of each thrust of his hips. Learning what he liked. Feeling how much he jerked and growled in delight when he dragged a nail over the fragile bone.

Amid the madness, something stirred in her chest. A radiant, pulsing glow from the center.

"I love you, Azriel," she whispered as she ran two fingers on either side of the bony finger of his wing.

Azriel swore, his powerful body shuddering against her. Her hips ground into his as he pulsed inside her. But Gwyn's sole focus was on him, absorbing every moment. Watching those sultry eyes slam shut, brows snapping together. His strong jaw tensed. Wings spread wide, twitching against her fingers. He gasped her name like a song refrain as his features grew soft.

Her name on Azriel's lips was Gwyn's undoing.

Her vision burst into shooting stars as she fell, the power of the moment overtaking her. That warmth, that spark, expanded in her chest. A cord of golden light unraveling. No, not a cord. A brilliant golden ribbon, one end attached to her heart, the other fluttering freely in an ethereal current.

Thoughts and instinct surged over her like a crashing wave.

Touch him, smell him, taste him—

Mother above…

Touch him, smell him, taste him—

Did he feel it too?

Overcome, her forehead dropped to his. His hand drove into her hair, tilting her head as his lips slanted over hers, dragging kisses as if he were sipping from her lips.

"I… I didn't know it could feel like this," He whispered in a shaky voice, swallowing thickly. His hand shifted down the back of her neck, landing at the base. He pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek. "I never thought I would deserve this. Never be worthy of such things. Of sharing this."

That revelation tore through her heart. How could he think that? But before she could rebut, he spoke. "You are my first, Gwyn."

You are my first, Gwyn.

Gwyn was dizzy. Unable to speak. Completely rattled. Too overwhelmed to reply with more than tender, lingering kisses. In the distance, his shadows seemed to dance as if they, too, understood.

How fitting that the first time Azriel made love was unknowingly with his mate.

Chapter 53 collage teaser will be up on my Tumblr ( mystical-blaise) on Sunday. I'll have a TikTok ( mysticalblaise) video teaser up Monday!