SUMMARY: Elain's revelation sparks tension and something inside of Gwyn.
Standing there, stunned, Gwyn's pulse raced inside her numb body.
The necklace was… Elain's?
But… she remembered that day vividly.
Clotho motioned for Gwyn to follow as she shuffled out of the evening service at eight with the other priestesses. When they'd arrived at her desk, Clotho's gnarled hands pushed a splendid necklace across the surface toward her. A dainty charm of glass dangling from the delicate gold chain.
"That's beautiful," Gwyn said fondly. "Did someone drop it? I can find out who and return it straight away."
Clotho's head shook beneath her hood. The scratch of a pen following, No, Gwyneth, it's a gift.
"Well, that is a wonderful gift. Do you want me to deliver it? Who is it for?"
It's meant for you.
"It's—this for me?" she'd asked, her voice rising with surprise. For no one besides her mother or Catrin had given her a gift.
It's from a friend, Clotho's pen scrawled on her ever-present book of parchment. Even in the dim glow of fae light, Gwyn swore the High Priestess's mouth curled up on one side with a secret.
The young priestess's heart swelled as she accepted the jewelry in her palm, trembling fingers curving around the cool metal and glass. Gwyn had never received such a gift before. At least not ones that weren't homemade. After all, priestesses were not ones to fixate on worldly possessions. That a friend left this for her? She wondered who…
Two Solstices ago, a day or so before. A chilly night alone on a rooftop, a snapping, belligerent white ribbon and a crisp breeze her only companion.
A gift from a friend.
A pair of tired hazel eyes found her, watching. Clouded breath and shadows.
A gift from a friend.
Icy eyes thawing with amusement at her dismissal. "Are you kicking me out?"
A gift from a friend.
"Try cutting the ribbon again."
A gift from a friend.
The world shifted beneath her feet.
Gwyn glanced down at her wrist, the charm adorning her friendship bracelet—the same pendant that had inadvertently saved their asses during the Blood Rite. A precious bauble Gwyn had removed from the gold chain when she misplaced the third ornament for the Valkyrie friendship bracelets.
She shook her head in disbelief. The silly thing was, Azriel had been on her short list of suspects. Gwyn knew none of the priestesses could have afforded such a gift. Nesta would have presented it to herself. As would Emerie. Cassian's sole focus at the time was Nesta. That left only one person…
Over these months, Gwyn waited for Az to acknowledge the gift. He never did. Not once. Truthfully, that had been fine. When he'd left it, they'd been merely training partners. A teacher and eager student. At the early stages of a budding friendship.
"Azriel gave it to me. A Solstice present," Elain said, confirming what Gwyn had already pieced together. "If it helps, I returned the necklace to him."
The middle sister offered Gwyn a wry smile, gracing her full lips. "I realized then that you two were close," Elain continued, keeping pace in front of the fireplace. "I was still skeptical about you. I wished to give you the benefit of the doubt, you see. So I engaged the help of another."
Gwyn's eyes fell to the slippers wearing a path into the crimson rug. Why were those slippers familiar? One of her eyes caught sight of a navy cloak draped carelessly on a chaise.
… Craning her neck to peek out of the narrow rift, providing light and air into the furniture. Edges of a navy cloak brushed over top a pair of delicate satin slippers...
Her stomach tumbled as the name slipped from her lips like poison. "Merrill."
As if impressed, Elain smiled merrily. All teeth and biting sweetness. "Nesta always claimed you were clever, Gwyn. Yes, I employed Merrill's hand. I ran into the priestess while I'd sought the library for my horticultural efforts."
… A couple of figures huddled in the agricultural section. The silhouettes of two cloaked individuals, hoods up to disguise facial features...
"I noticed you in the library as well," Elain said, her voice cheery as if the conversation they were having was nothing more than casual gossip. "You were often flying around. And, of course, it was hard to miss Merrill bellowing for her nymph. Since I learned you were Merrill's apprentice, I approached her—and fortuitous for me, she was eager to help—for a price."
"What price? What are you talking about?" Gwyn bit out, fists clenched in her palms.
Elain rolled his shoulders. "Merrill had her ambitions. I had mine. And their paths converged."
Mother above, Elain. What did she do?
Would she truly do something to mar the High Lord and Lady? Hurt her sisters? Unlikely.
But…
Elain, from what Nesta said, frequented the streets of Velaris. Many spoke kindly of the sweet Archeron. Elain moved like a phantom in the river house, often passing by a threshold with no one's notice. Most didn't pay heed to her. And the people Elain had access to—the whole Inner Circle. The insular workings of the Night Court. Confidential. Privileged.
Dear Cauldron. What the hell had she divulged?
Gwyn thought back on the notes she found in Merrill's office. The research she'd done in her tenure.
Elain plopped down on the inviting chaise, not bothering to move the offending cloak. "We're all victims, you know. Me. You. Merrill. We all had things ripped from us. Torn from us. My life. Your sister." Gwyn winced. "Thinking I had more control over my power, she requested the location of an object. One which I failed to locate. I didn't ask Merrill what she wanted the information for. Nor did I care. With that out of the way, a push was all the Priestess needed. A visit from the Seer of the Night Court with a deadly prophecy—albeit a false one—regarding her beloved Valkyrie, in hand. Her support was essential in getting information for me and getting in touch with you."
"For what was foretold can't stand... You'll ruin all of us, Gwyn… Night will yield to the siren of fire. The Valkyrie, broken by their own hands at her song. Melody and flame, a smothering end to shadows. It sings the end."
Tears burned the backs of Gwyn's eyes. "You… you created a fake prophecy about me? Cauldron, why Elain? What was the purpose of this deception?"
Elain's hands splayed over her cloak before fisting the material. She peered at her through heavy lashes. "I required something that would satisfy my needs and Merrill's and would assure her unyielding cooperation. At first, the plan was simple; get you to leave the court," Elain admitted. "I set out to merely scare you away. A simple staged accident in the library. Merrill's warnings about your presence."
Shelah. Her friend and fellow priestess died in the tragedy in the library. An incident staged to frighten Gwyn to retreat.
Pale freckled fists tightened and Gwyn took a step forward. Elain arched an elegant chestnut eyebrow, fingers absently stroking the navy velvet cape.
"You killed a priestess," Gwyn gritted out through clenched teeth.
"I killed no one. It was a regrettable, unintended mishap," was all Elain said, oddly using similar phrasing as Merrill. Cold. Callous. Though those somber chocolate-colored eyes suggested something else entirely. Her gaze cut to the floor.
"No one was supposed to get hurt or die," Elain said so softly, Gwyn struggled to understand her. "Especially not an innocent bystander."
Merrill's words rushed through her mind. "For what it's worth, no, the attack was not me. I would have put no one else in danger, nor did I want you hurt… It was an error born out of anger. It wasn't supposed to happen, but it did because of you…"
Those massive bookshelves did not simply just topple over. Azriel implied that some kind of force must be behind their collapse. Gwyn's hand unfurled, descending to the hilt of her dagger strapped to her thigh as something inside her riled, crackling in answer to a charge in the air.
"Well, Shelah did," the Valkyrie chastised, unable to keep the rancor from her tone. "She paid with her life. And for what, Elain? For your random vision, which you know nothing about?!"
Elain swiftly rose at that charge, stumbling back toward the ebony fireplace surround. Gwyn tracked her movements.
"... She thought you would leave then, that it was ironclad. I prayed to the Mother that was all it would take. She said you have to go. We offered you choices, but you've left us none."
"I didn't want to harm anyone," Elain sighed, her mahogany gaze moving to Gwyn again. "Not even you. Not at first. I just needed you to leave Azriel alone."
A chill ran down Gwyn's spine like a frigid wind.
"I am unsure regarding timing in my visions. The longer you were around Az, the more he was at risk. So, I told Merrill to add your name to the register for the Rite."
Breath stalled in Gwyn's lungs. Her body vibrated with a mute fury. Building and building. Sweat dotted her brow.
"You had Merrill put my name on that list."
Elain had the audacity to appear contrite. "I did. It was a last resort. I really didn't want to. Please believe me. I hoped if anything would get you to leave… well… You surprised me. The Valkyrie bravely stayed and Rhysand interfered— again ." Her nose scrunched. "After that, Merrill went a little out of her mind."
The middle sister strolled over to the window, her hands clasped behind her back. Gwyn's fingers stroked the hilt of her dagger, though she did not make a move. Not yet.
Gwyn snorted in disgust. "A little out of her mind? She tried to kill me!"
Elain's eyes clouded and paled, reminding Gwyn of a hazy sky before a squall. Warning her of Merrill's eyes before she charged.
"What did you do to Merrill, Elain?"
"You stayed, Gwyn—and every second you stay puts Azriel in danger. And I cannot allow that."
All day long, his shadows fidgeted. Unsettled and in perpetual motion, their melodies were a din of unease. He rolled his shoulders for the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes. Sighing, Azriel set aside her reports he'd barely gone through.
He rose from his black leather couch, where he'd lain after cleaning up the mess he and Gwyn had made, finally putting those bright blue monogrammed towels Mor had gifted him several Solstices ago to good use.
The bed was an absolute disaster. The sodden sheets left a tangled mess in the middle of the bed. His own damn fault, he supposed. After all, Az was the one who winnowed them straight from the bathtub to the bed.
Those sheets evoked the exquisite image of Gwyn only hours before. Curled underneath him, knees drawn to her chest as he pounded into her. Her freckled cheeks heavily flushed, pupils blown and glazed over with lust, forever etched in his mind.
A soaked, ruined bed and a flooded bathing chamber had certainly been fucking worth it.
With a smile, Azriel's eyes veered to the loose pile of discarded hairpins. A pair of earrings. The halved length of white ribbon on the counter. Gwyn's lovely Starfall dress hung up with care on the back of the bedroom door. And he couldn't get over how comforting it was to have her things in his space. To have her in his space. Imagine coming home to such a beautiful sight? Coming home to Gwyn. Did the shadowsinger dare dream of such a thing?
Restless shadows trembled around him again. Az rolled his shoulders. Mother's tits, why the hell wouldn't they stay still? Unruly beasts. Maybe they needed space. If he were honest, his own legs could use a stretch. Fresh air.
He quickly made his way out of his apartment, shooting up into the sky, the warm winds blowing in from the south a tender caress against his wings. With each wing beat and slide into a slipstream, he assumed his shadows would settle.
But no.
'What is going on with you all?' he finally asked.
'GwynGwynGwynGwynGwyn,' they chanted her name over and over.
'Calm down. She's only been gone for a few hours.'
'GwynGwynGwynGwynGwyn.' Their repeated requests had him on edge.
'Fine.'
His jaw clenched, wings snapping as he flew back to the river house. Only when he arrived, he found she was not there.
"When we headed inside, Elain and Gwyn were having a conversation in the garden," Feyre explained, tilting her head as she relaxed against the doorframe, bouncing Nyx on one hip. "But they aren't here."
His shadows swirled around his opening and closing fists at his side. "Do you know where they went?"
"No. I assumed perhaps a walk along the Sidra? Or the garden? You know how Elain likes to wander the grounds and the city."
Only Azriel searched the gardens. Finished scouting the path along the Sidra from the river estate all the way to the godsdamn Rainbow. He flew by Sevenda's. Gwyn's favorite bakery. His shadows darted in and out of narrow streets and dead-end alleys.
Nothing. Not a trace of his Valkyrie, driving his umbra more frantic by the minute.
Perhaps she started her way back to the House of Wind? She'd made her way into the city several times now. Even ventured out on a few minor missions into the city alone. She simply just headed home.
Yes. By now, Gwyn was sprawled out on the chaise in the private library. With Sellyn Drake for company, no doubt. Awaiting his return. And once she understood his misplaced panic and his mother-henning shadows, she'd roll her huge, sparkling eyes but let his shadows reassuringly nuzzle her cheek.
Gwyn was at home. Safe. She had to be.
Lost in his thoughts, the shadowsinger was rounding a corner onto a bustling street when his eyes spotted a familiar shock of flaming crimson in the sea of people coming his way. Only, it wasn't the redhead he was currently looking for.
When Lucien and he locked eyes, Azriel tensed. Absent was the usual tailored finery, replaced with a creased, sloppy cream tunic and drab breeches. Loose strands of flaming hair which slipped from his careless tie framed his grim face. Those eyes, both natural and mechanized, were immense. Panicked. Lucien pushed his way through the throng to get to his side.
"Where's Elain?" Lucien asked, his tone clipped and edged with fear.
"How the hell should I know?" Azriel shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. Shadows flicked his ear. A sigh escaped him. "I just came from Feyre's looking for Gwyn. Last I heard, Elain was with her."
Lucien's eyes narrowed, a muscle twitching in his firm jaw. "We need to find them both now."
"I was just going to check the House of—"
"I already checked the House of Wind. Neither of them is there."
Azriel's brows snapped together. "Elain's been staying at the Townhouse, Vanserra."
Lucien brushed by, shouldering him with a puff. "Of course you would know that."
Snarling, Azriel caught his arm and spun him around. Lucien growled, shrugging off the shadowsinger's grip from his shirt.
"Lucien, what the fuck is going on?"
"We don't have time for your pleasantries, bat. Something is wrong."
'WrongWrongWrong…,' his shadows chanted in accord.
"I've been warning Rhysand and Feyre for months. Elain is unwell. Rhysand has been receptive but… Cauldron boil and fucking fry me, we have to go!"
With his hand clamped on Lucien's arm, black mist engulfed them both until they were just outside of the townhouse. They dashed up the stairs. Each thundering step sounded like an ominous war drum.
His hand gripped the door. Locked.
Shadows snuck in under the jam and reported back.
'The Seer and our Valkyrie are inside. But something is wrong.'
Azriel halted Lucien's hit midway through as he pounded his fist.
The redhead snarled beside him, his grip desperately struggling to turn the knob. "Mother above, it's locked. Don't you have a godsdamn key?!"
Azriel backed up, kicking at the door with his foot, the doorjamb shattering around the bolt.
"Remind me never to call you if I need a locksmith. Brute," Lucien mumbled under his breath as he brushed by.
Gwyn watched as Elain arranged the flowers in the silver decanter on the mantle. Deftly moving the blossoms and petals to fit her view. Had she done the same to everyone? Expertly placed people to suit her arrangement. Just pieces in her precise bouquet.
Gwyn refused to be a part any longer. Something unusual once again crackled under her stippled, rankled skin.
"You're wrong, Elain. Your vision is wrong." She took two steps back towards the door. She needed to tell someone. Obtain assistance. This was not the sister Nesta often spoke of. Not the sweet, gentlest of the three sisters. One who would never provoke. Regardless of her faults and words now, Elain needed help. "Elain, I would never—never—harm Azriel. And I'm leaving here right now—but I'm not leaving Az."
Elain took a step closer, her serious gaze penetrating. "I'm sorry to hear that."
Gwyn became immobile suddenly.
"I truly don't want to hurt you, Gwyn. But I will if necessary." The Seer's eyes clouded over again, Gwyn's gaze meeting two cloudy pearls. "Even with your vow, the vision has not changed. It's your last chance to go on your own."
The redheaded Valkyrie held her ground, her skin prickling under the pressure of Elain's power.
"Why are you doing this, Elain?"
"Are you so willing to hurt him, Gwyn? Are you so selfish that you want to take that risk?" Elain scoffed, her face twisted in disgust.
"Every day is a risk, Elain. Every single day of our lives, especially Azriel's, there's danger. There's no promise of tomorrow. But I am no risk to Azriel. I swear to the Mother."
Elain's eyes cleared, her face falling. "I'm doing this for Azriel. I'm doing it for—"
Crash!
The splinters of wood and the resounding thud of the falling door stole their regard, and Gwyn was suddenly free of whatever was holding her in place.
Azriel and Lucien entered the townhouse and Gwyn sagged with relief when her eyes met her male's.
"Az." Only, it wasn't her mouth who uttered his name in a breathless sigh.
Gwyn pivoted to Elain and watched the bright, beguiling smile spread across the middle Archeron's face as she gazed at Azriel striding forward. And all of that fell as soon as she beheld his companion.
"Lucien," Elain said in a meek voice, eyes widening in surprise.
"Elain," he replied roughly, throat bobbing. "Are you all right?"
Gwyn glanced between the two, noting their silence was laden with a sentiment. Shadows swirling around his shoulders, Azriel made measured strides until he was between the two females. And as he reached for Gwyn's hand, Elain's head snapped in their direction.
"Don't, Az," Elain ordered. "Stay away from her."
Azriel's hand stalled, calloused fingertips glancing against her own. His head swiveled to the elegant Archeron.
"Stay away from her, Az. I mean it. I warned you once," Elain said, her eyes growing wide with fear. True, unbidden fear. The caramel-haired female walked until she stood strong before the shadowsinger, close enough to share breath.
Gwyn's chest flared at the sight.
"Please, let her go," Elain pleaded, her eyes lining with silver. "Then you'll be safe. And," she swallowed hard. "And we—we can be together if you still wish to."
An unusual silence accompanied a deafening roar inside her head.
Azriel stepped back… and further still… His broad leathered chest rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm, the siphons on his bracers glowing like azure embers. "Elain, what the fuck is going on?"
Elain stepped forward. Azriel stepped back. An evasive dance.
"On Solstice, I warned you she was going to be the death of you, Az. The vision is clear. I saw— "
"Stop this!" Azriel snarled, wings snapping against his back. His shadows coiled over his shoulders, cobras ready to strike.
"I know you think you love her, Azriel. But not for the reason you think." No longer the inexplicable, opaque hue, Elain's discerning brandy eyes swung to Gwyn. "She's a siren."
A siren. No. No, that wasn't possible. But… Merrill had been researching...
All those tomes on water folklore Gwyn herself had pulled for Merrill—they had been about her?
"You're wrong. Gwyn is not a siren," Azriel stated simply. Her heart squeezed as Gwyn stared at him—at his resolve for her, his instinct to protect.
"Yes, she is!" Elain said frantically, her head nodding. She pointed a trembling finger at Gwyn. "It all fits. Her beauty. Her heritage. The rumor about her nymph grandmother luring a man to bed her. Gwyn sings for God's sake and Nesta makes it sound like the heavens open when she does! Then I understood why you gave her my necklace. It makes sense now. That you fell for her so easily—a man I barely got to—"
"Elain, that's enough!" Azriel bellowed. Elain flinched, lurching back as if struck. Lucien made a move as if to steady her, but straightened and remained where he stood, his hands clenched so tight his knuckles blanched.
Gwyn's nose and eyes burned as she stared at Azriel, a knot of emotion strangling her.
And Azriel… Azriel suddenly wouldn't deign a glance her way. His hazel eyes trained on the floor, his face void. Hollow. Shadows eerily stilled, as if in a foreboding fog.
"I'm only trying to save you, Az," Elain spoke in a faltering whisper. "We still have a chance."
Gwyn's eyes were drawn to Lucien's, noting his reactions. Emotions mirroring her own reflected on his stark face. Shock and confusion warring with his worry as his golden metallic eye whirred at the scene playing out before them. A sizzling in the air matching her own. They remained silent witnesses, Gwyn feeling as though she was intruding on something… wholly private. She watched Elain's lustrous eyes as she pleaded with Azriel; the Illyrian standing his ground. Defending. As the fervor of the argument intensified, his emotions surfaced.
It was as if a scene from Sellyn Drake was playing out before her—a quarrel between… oh gods.
…"So," Gwyn huffed, blocking his jab with her forearm with a swipe. "You moved from one very long female crush that held no interest to another that has a mate?"
"That about sums it up," he grunted out a snort as she kicked him in the ribs…
Elain…
… A muscle ticked in his hard jaw. "There was a chance she might not choose her mate. There's still a chance. But it's...over now."
Gwyn huffed a laugh. "Sounds like whoever the distraction female is, she's a piece of work if she hasn't decided yet. It's almost—cruel."...
"Please Az, believe me," Elain begged, practically falling to her knees.
… "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…
Gwyn's stomach plummeted, her shaking hand splayed over her heavy heart.
…"I don't think Elain likes me."
His hand froze on her cheek. "What? Why—what makes you say that, Gwyn?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. She was acting strange at the club."
He clenched his jaw. "Weird how?"...
The backs of her eyes brimmed with fierce tears she would not let slip down her hot cheeks. And during a moment of restrained tension, Gwyn barked a caustic laugh. As three other people in the room shifted towards her, their gazes ranged from fury to anguish and everything in between. Gwyn wetly laughed once again as the realization hit her like a pommel to the chest.
… "Well, Elain, if you would like to join Nesta and—"
"No," Elain said, a little too quick. "I mean, no thank you. I'm fine watching."
"Well, if you change your mind…"
"I won't, but thank you." Elain smiled, but there was something wrong with her smile before she motioned for the server and ordered a drink of her own….
Elain stood from the booth, tottering a bit on her feet before Feyre stood in front of her, hands up. Nesta noticed, saying, "I'll be right back," approaching her sisters and running back to her. "Gwyn, Elain is not feeling well, so Feyre and I are going to take her home…"
Elain's cold behavior around her since the beginning. Azriel and Nesta's attitudes whenever her sister was around her. It wasn't just Gwyn's imagination. No, it was worse.
"Oh, my gods. It makes sense now," Gwyn said, her lower lip trembling as her eyes locked on Elain Archeron. "You're Distraction Girl."
Elain straightened, her eyes flashing. "Excuse me?"
Gwyn didn't pay Elain any mind, her full attention set on the winged male before her. The one she loved with all of her heart. Her revelation froze him completely as his head rose to meet her stare.
"She's Distraction Girl, isn't she, Az?" Gwyn whispered around her scratchy throat. "And you gave me her necklace. And you told me…" Her words trailed off, eyes shifting to Lucien. "And you're her mate."
Slowly. So slowly she turned back to the shadowsinger. Azriel paled. "Gwyn—I…"
"Distraction girl? That's how you truly refer to me?" Elain asked hotly, examining him, eyes darting between the two of them.
Azriel turned his attention back to her. "No, I didn't—"
Elain glared at Gwyn, realizing where the nickname had come from. "Despite what you might think, Gwyn." Her purple gown swept over the floor as she strode closer to Azriel. "I wasn't simply a distraction."
Gwyn's hands dropped to her sides, balling into fists. Something inside her flared as she saw Elain move.
Azriel paid no mind to Elain, his silver-lined eyes focused on Gwyn alone. But Gwyn watched. Watched as Elain lifted her hand. Watched as her fingers settled on Azriel's shoulder, the tips nearly skimming his wings.
Something sharp and dangerous smoldered inside. Fury and bitterness and pain boiled, bubbling fuel that reached the burning in her chest. An innate primal spark that compelled her to protect the male standing before her.
To shield. To defend. To safeguard her mate.
There was only one word coursing through Gwyn as her hands unfurled and searing flames erupted from her fingertips—Mine.
Next week, I will finish up my holiday Modern AU Gwynriel fic, Give Me Your Heart For Christmas, which should be up on Dec 21. So there will not be a chapter update for ACOWAS until after Christmas. I'm shooting for the 29th. Chapter 55 collage teaser will be up on my Tumblr ( mystical-blaise) on Thursday, Dec 23. I should have a TikTok ( mysticalblaise) video teaser up Monday, Dec 27!