My gaze connected with the most alluring pair of hazel eyes I'd ever seen as I peered over Rhys's shoulder. This male was large, no, not large, huge. He was taller than Rhys and most other males I'd known, with a frame stacked with thick bands of muscle that wound around a strong neck, down broad shoulders and over his powerful arms. Arms that I was sure had slain more enemies than I could probably count based on the sheer number of cobalt-blue siphons I spotted adorning his fighting leathers. Mother above, the number of siphons on him alone...
He was saying something, but it was like I was underwater, not able to hear a thing over the sound of my rapidly beating heart as my mind focused solely on the prime male specimen before me.
His wings towered over his shoulders, taller and wider than Rhys's, and I could swear I saw them flare a bit wider under my perusal of them. My gaze trailed over the impressive chest and taut abdomen, down his tapered waist to the tops of two powerful thighs that were made up of thick cords of muscle that I lost sight of as the edge of the bed blocked my view.
I let my gaze travel lazily back up his magnificent form to the face that held those mesmerizing hazel eyes. A face that burned with a hunger I'd never seen before, one that somehow lit a blazing fire deep within me as I studied him. He had a strong jaw that looked sharp enough to cut through solid granite, high cheekbones and full lips that looked so soft I found myself wanting to run the pads of my fingers across them to see if they were truly as soft as they looked. My whole body flushed with heat as I imagined what those sinful lips might feel like on my bare and blazing skin, imagined them trailing over my neck as those wide, strong hands gripped my hips with bruising force as they held me against that chiseled body...
His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened as our gazes connected again, and a soft gasp escaped my lips at the predatory look that flashed across his face before it was gone again just as quickly.
What had he said again? I was too caught up in the masterpiece of his body to hear or focus on much else at the moment. My tears having ceased and mostly dried as he held my attention. Mother above, what was wrong with me? I shouldn't be sitting here, eye-fucking this Illyrian warrior, while my best friend finally found me and is here to rescue me from this nightmare. That's what I should be focused on, but I can't seem to help it when my eyes drift over Rhys's shoulder one more time. Just another quick peek, I tell myself.
A cough and the shifting of a body against mine pulls me out of the trance that male held me in, and I refocused my attention on the male currently holding me pressed to his chest.
Rhys pulled back a little from me and cast a glance over his shoulder at the colossal male behind him, a knowing look washing over his face as he slowly released his grip on me. I tried to grab for his shoulders, to keep him next to me, but Rhys just settled me against the headboard with a smile, still keeping his seat on the bed as he twisted his frame so that he could speak to his friend.
"Easy, brother," he said softly, raising his hands in a placating gesture, as if he were dealing with a feral animal and not a civilized friend. "This is Gizelle Verissimon, a friend of mine from a long time ago."
I cocked my head curiously at his wording. We weren't that old.
Rhys's head swiveled back to me, a slow smile curving his lips as his eyes sparkled with something I couldn't quite decipher.
"Ella, this is Azriel, my brother-in-arms and shadowsinger of the Night Court."
I sucked in a quick breath at the name. This was Azriel? Rhys's friend, Azriel?
Finally!
A broad smile lit up my face as I realized that I was finally meeting one of Rhys's elusive friends, although the timing could be a bit better. I would have leapt from the bed to greet him properly, but it was also then that I remembered just how naked I currently was and glanced down at the thin sheet covering my modesty. Odd how you can get so used to being naked that you hardly notice it anymore...
My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I tugged the sheet higher and wrapped my arms tightly around myself.
"It, uh... It's nice to finally meet you, Azriel." I said lamely, stumbling over my words like an absolute idiot. Mother above, I sound like a love-sick youth again.
His eyes fluttered closed for a split second before his gaze once again pierced mine with an unyielding intensity that made my heart thump wildly against my chest. What was it about this male that affected me so? My heart and lady regions needed to calm down and let my brain take the reins for a little while.
"And I'm Cassian, General of the Illyrian army," the cocky voice of Rhys's other companion drew my gaze away from Azriel and over to the large Illyrian male by the door. There was a female there next to him, but I let myself focus on the male adorned with ruby siphons, the same number as Azriel's. I thought about what Rhys had told me of his overconfident and flirtatious friend, the one that had charmed all the females in the war camp and pissed off his superiors to no end. I chuckled huskily, my throat not used to the sound.
"Funny," I winked at him, my smirk widening at his displeased frown. My attention shifted finally to the female standing next to Cassian, and frowned when she appeared to be pale as death with a stricken look on her face as her eyes flitted between Rhys and I.
I cocked my head as I studied her, my wings fluttering softly behind me as I perked up.
"And you?" I asked politely, giving her a gentle smile to try to put her at ease. Her blue-gray eyes snapped to me finally, hardening as they took me in, a cold and calculating look coming over her.
"I am Feyre Archeron, High Lady of the Night Court."
She said it with such conviction that I jerked back in surprise. Her lips lifted in a satisfied smirk as I turned to Rhys for confirmation.
"Your father re-married?" I whispered in shock, but Rhys just grinned as Cassian let out a bark of laughter. I looked between Rhys and Cassian, trying to figure out what the joke was before Rhys took my hand in his, squeezing it in reassurance.
"I know you have a lot of questions, Ella, but we've wasted enough time already. We are here to rescue you and bring you back to the Night court, but we don't have a lot of time before one of the guards sounds the alarm."
"The Night court?" My brow furrowed as I cocked my head at him. "Why not just take me home? I've never been to your court, and I know there's probably extensive damage in my own, but they need me right now, and I've been away far too long. Tam is probably worried sick about me, and my father..."
That last word gave me pause, my heart constricting in my chest as the memories came flooding back to me. I shut my eyes as a tear slipped down my cheek.
"He's gone, isn't he?" I said, barely above a whisper, not daring to open my eyes and find the pity there in his gaze that would confirm my suspicion. It was foolish to think that not seeing his eyes might change the reality of what happened, I had felt it, for cauldron's sake, when that familiar power had crashed into my body one day, flooding my very marrow with my father's formidable power, and it was the worst kind of messenger carrying the worst kind of news.
"He's gone, Ella. I'm so sorry." Rhys's soft words fluttered against my ear as he once again pulled me into his chest and I broke down into another fit of sobs. It was easy to ignore that horrid truth when you were focused on being held captive, but now...
A rumbling growl from behind Rhys drew my attention as I pulled back slightly, my red and puffy eyes finding the hulking form of Azriel, Rhys's father's shadowsinger, standing not a foot away, his jaw clenched and hands fisted at his sides as he watched Rhys and I. My brows furrowed at his behavior, but just as I was trying to puzzle it out, Rhys gave my arms a reassuring squeeze as he leaned away from me and slowly rose from the bed.
"We need to get this chain off of you Ella," Rhys said softly, his eyes understanding my need to breakdown, but telling me that now wasn't the time. I sniffed and gave him a nod as I wiped the tears from my cheeks.
"Sorry," I chuckled mirthlessly, trying to pull it together. Of course the first time I meet Rhys's friends and stepmother I would be having a mental breakdown, that was just my luck.
I watched Rhys inspect the length of chain, looking for weaknesses before I felt Azriel step closer to me, the bed shifting as his weight settled on the bed beside me. My breath caught in my throat again as I stared up at him, so close to me that I had to blink a few times as I took in his devastatingly handsome face. The thick shock of medium length raven hair making me want to reach up and run my fingers through the silky tresses.
"May I?" he asked softly, gesturing to the collar around my neck, but my eyes widened and I jerked away from him, a look of hurt flashing across his face, almost too fast for me to catch.
"Ella," Rhys's voice called to me from the foot of the bed. "This chain will be harder to break than the collar. Let him try. Please."
His eyes told me I could trust his friend, but I didn't know how to convey that it wasn't because I didn't trust Azriel. No, it was something worse, something I knew they would have questions about, ones I couldn't bring myself to answer right now. Maybe not ever.
My apprehension must have shown on my face because Rhys spoke again, pleading with me to let his friend help. I bit into my bottom lip and dug my nails into my palms as I fought to garner the courage it would take. I needed the courage, so that when they saw what lay beneath the collar, I would be strong enough to weather their looks of disgust. With a sigh of defeat, knowing I was neither strong nor courageous, so there was no point attempting to steel myself, I nodded, angling my head so that my neck was exposed to Azriel.
The shadowsinger shifted closer, his hands slowly coming up to brush against the collar, causing me to flinch slightly.
"I won't ever hurt you," he whispered gently, and I looked up at him to see the conviction there in his eyes, but that only made things worse. He was a trained soldier, proud and honorable. He wouldn't look at me the way he had earlier once he got the wretched piece of leather off of me.
I just took a deep breath and shut my eyes, leaning my head further back as I waited.
His hands were warm and gentle as they caressed my neck, like the soft flutter of butterflies, as they searched the collar for weaknesses. He twisted the collar all the way around, searching its entire length, before deciding that the way to go was by cutting the damned thing off.
My eyes popped open he produced a knife from his boot, a hand held out as if to calm my now frantically beating heart. My eyes widened on the blade and I tried to scoot away from him as he brought it closer.
"Easy," he said gently, showing me his palms and letting me study the wickedly sharp blade. "This will only cut through the leather. I won't hurt you or let it touch your skin," he promised.
I could feel cold sweat drip down my back at the thought of the blade coming anywhere near my neck, and shook my head, scrambling away from him. His face softened, looking at me like I was an animal caught in a trap, but my thoughts were solely focused on that silver dagger in his palm.
"No," I choked on a whisper, my eyes brimming with tears again as I backed myself against the headboard and tried to scoot away from him.
"Fuck this, we're running out of time," Cassian growled from across the room before he stomped over to the bed, coming over to the side opposite Azriel and unsheathing his own wicked-looking blade. My eyes widened as I tried to dodge his grasping hands and let out a scream as he gripped my throat in one hand and wedged his blade under the collar with his other.
"Stop thrashing around!" He growled at me, but I couldn't help it. All I knew was that blade, and my brain didn't care who was holding it or for what purpose. I just squirmed in his grip, clawing uselessly at his forearms, my breathing grew ragged and chest pounding as I cried out, trying to get away from him.
I yelped in pain as the blade sliced into my skin before it slashed the collar in half, the material dropping into my lap as he all but tossed me away from him before he stalked back to the door.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as my whole body shook violently, black spots dancing at the edges of my vision as my breath sawed in and out of my lungs. My shaking hands clutched at my throat, trying to staunch the blood I could feel trickling down my skin.
"Cass!" Rhys hissed as he went to reprimand his friend, but I couldn't focus on him right now, my mind too caught up in its downward spiral.
My heart was pounding so hard against my sternum I though it might very well burst from my chest, and my lungs burned with effort as they heaved with my ragged breathing. My hands had abandoned the sheet to grip my throat, letting it pool in my lap as I clutched at my torn skin, feeling the hot, sticky liquid slide down my wrist. It wasn't until a large, warm hand threaded its fingers through my hair, dragging softly against my scalp that my panting staggered a bit.
"That's it, just breathe..." The voice was soft and deep and gentle as a large warm hand brushed through my tangled hair again while the another cupped my cheek, angling my head to look up at the male beside me.
"Breathe for me, Gizelle," he whispered, and as my eyes locked with his hazel ones, I tried to do as he asked, a shaky ragged breath slowly filling my lungs and dispelling some of the shadows around the edges of my vision.
"Good. Another," he commanded, sounding both soothing and authoritative. The unwavering look in his eyes had me latching onto him like a haven in a storm and following his directions, my brain not functioning well enough in its panicked stage to do much of anything else.
He commanded me to take another deep breath, then another, and another, and I did, following along like a dutiful soldier, his eyes never leaving mine for a second.
"Good girl," he whispered softly, running his hand through my ratty hair again. "Now, let me see your neck so I can check the damage."
I blinked, the calming balm of his words fluttering away as my panic stirred once again and I shook my head, eyes widening in fear. Azriel's gaze remained steady, his voice calm as that authoritative edge came out again, soothing the fluttering chaos of my mind by giving it something to grasp onto, like a lifeboat in a stormy sea. Tamira had always complained about how inconsolable I was as a child, and how I could hardly pay attention to tutors long enough to learn basic subjects. But somehow this Illyrian warrior and his soothing voice was able to pull my focus from the angry, swirling whirlpool of my mind and get me to calmly focus on the task at hand. Tam would surely keel over in surprise if she could see us now.
"Let me see, Gizelle."
I felt his hands carefully drift down to mine and I numbly let him pull them from around my throat, my eyes falling to the pillow beside me, not wanting to see the look in his eyes as he studied the jagged lines torn across the skin of my throat. A lump of shame and embarrassment formed in my throat, the memories drawing the very breath from my lungs as I sat there.
I waited, and waited, for him to gasp, to scoff, to move away from me, but he never did. Azriel just took the edge of the sheet and dabbed at the mark Cassian's blade had made before he declared it fully healed. Apparently my body had taken care of it this time.
I looked up at Azriel, but his face was nothing but steady calmness, no judgement to be found there, as he wrapped the bed sheet around me once more. It was only then that I realized my breasts had been exposed to the entire room during my little breakdown, but not once had Azriel's eyes wavered from my face. For a male warrior that must have taken a surprising amount of willpower.
The sound of Cassian's voice, gentler than it had been a moment ago, stirred Azriel and I from our little bubble of calm and we both looked over to where he was standing, ear pressed against the door.
"If we're going to make it out of here before dawn, we need to leave now. More guards are going to come eventually and notice the others aren't on duty, or find the bodies we stuffed into those spare rooms. We have minutes at most."
I jerked in surprise as I looked at all four people standing in this prison cell of a room. And then Rhys's words were coming back to me. They really were here to free me, after nearly a year of captivity by that vile Hybern and his gaggle of healers poking and prodding me every week, waiting for my courses to come and then abate so that they could report back to the king.
I shivered. I had to get out of here.
Azriel had to use every ounce of his hard-won self control to keep his face neutral when his mate had dropped her hands from her neck. He had nearly gasped in shock at the thick, jagged scar that wrapped around her delicate throat, dwarfing the tiny knick that Cassian's blade had made on the left side. The skin was thick and tinged red where it wrapped around her swan-like neck, clearly made by something blunt and it was not made in one clean swipe.
Gizelle had balked at the sight of his blade, and nearly jumped out of her skin as she thrashed like a cornered animal when Cassian had crudely cut the collar from her neck. And by the softening of Cassian's tone, Azriel knew that they had all seen the evidence of her past trauma over his shoulder. Thankfully no one had said anything or drawn attention to it.
That wound. Azriel swallowed dryly. That must have been how she died.
Fuck.
His mate had died and he hadn't even realized it. Hadn't been here for her, to rescue her, to comfort her while Hybern had abused her in the most vile way a male could harm a female. Self-loathing crashed over him in a suffocating wave, and he found he couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. What female would want a male who wasn't there for them as a mate? One that couldn't protect her when she needed him?
"Can you walk?" Rhys asked from behind him, and they both looked at the small female wrapped in the bedsheet as she gave a slow nod of her head.
Azriel climbed off of the bed and held a hand out to her as she tried to wriggle her way off the bed while wrapped up in the sheet. He had to suppress a tiny grin at how ungraceful it was, but it was somehow adorable at the same time.
When she made it to the edge of the bed, Gizelle swung her legs over the edge and pushed herself into a standing position, wobbling a bit as she tried to maintain her balance. She took a steadying breath and gave him a little triumphant smile that had his chest swelling with pride for his mate, before she tried to take a step and careened toward the floor.
Azriel scooped her up before her knees could shatter on the hard stone and situated her in his arms, careful not to crush her beautiful, delicate wings. He glanced more closely at them, noting the shape was delicately pointed at the tips, more similar to that of a butterfly rather than a bird or a bat, and they shimmered softly in the candlelight, an almost iridescent quality to them.
The membranes were thin enough that he could see his arm through them, and the veins that ran through them did not seem strong enough to support her weight for very long. They must be for looks rather than utility, like how many of the Illyrian males likely wished their females had been born.
"Any day, Az," Cassian drawled, bringing his focus over to the rest of their rescue team. Rhys stood next to his mate, a comforting hand on her lower back as they stared into each other's eyes, Rhys no doubt explaining to Feyre what was going on using those demati powers of his. What he wouldn't give for that skill right about now, to be able to talk privately with his mate without everyone else listening in.
He strode over to the door, Gizelle tiny in his arms, and took up a place behind them. Cassian would no doubt lead them out of here successfully, and Azriel would take up position in the middle with his High Lady and Rhys would cover their backs. They would have to make this quick. Already the bodies of the dispatched guards were probably being discovered.
"On my signal," Cassian whispered, holding his hand aloft as he cracked open the door to peer down the hall. When there was no sight or sound of nearby footsteps, Cassain waved his hand and pushed the door wide. They all filed into the hallway, silent feet padding as quickly as possible as the Illyrian general lead them back up through the corridor and to the staircase they came down on their way in.
Gizelle was silent in his arms as they ran, and he was glad that she was not one of those females that might have wailed in hysterics or cried in fear, revealing their location. No, his mate was calm and collected, despite the horrors she had endured in this castle. She was being strong for him, and he would be strong for her later when she needed to let out all that pain and fear when they were safe in Velaris.
Into that side room. Now!
Rhys's command filtered through all their minds at once and they each ducked quickly into a spare room on the left side of the hall, shutting the door silently just as a pair of guards rounded the corner. They listened as the footsteps grew closer and held their breaths as they passed by their little hiding spot.
"Did you bring food to the prisoner tonight?" One male voice asked.
"Nah," the other said casually. "The healer said she's close, and that she wasn't allowed any more male company until the King returns from Prythian. Something about our pheromones messing up the timing or some shit."
"Timing for what?" the first one asked, and Azriel found himself curious as well and wanted to the know the answer to that question.
"Fuck if I know. That hag of a healer gives me the creeps. I'm not going around her if I don't got to. Fuckin' witch. Did I tell you she threatened to skin me alive and feed my bones to the dogs if I even got near that room? As if I'd risk letting those gnarled bony fingers anywhere close to me."
"Too right," the first one chuckled as their voices faded away.
Their little group stayed there, huddled by the closed door for another minute to make sure they were far enough away before Rhys nodded and Cassian signaled the all-clear and they spilled out into the hallway again.
Azriel looked down when he felt a little hand grasping the front of his fighting leathers, and saw his tiny mate gripping the front of his uniform for dear life as a tear tracked down her cheek. He felt like someone kicked him in the gut at the anguish and disgust he saw written on her perfect face. He wanted to comfort her, to whisk her away to Velaris where he could dote on her and support her in any way he could, but they had to get to safety first. It was strange how he felt so connected and devoted to this female after meeting her mere minutes ago. It was as if all other attachments in his life had either never existed at all, or fizzled away in their unimportance compared to the innocent, delicate little flower he cradled in his arms.
He thought about the feelings he harbored for Mor, who was waiting for them just outside the castle walls, and oddly found that flame to be more like a small flickering candle far off in the distance. A flame that wavered dangerously when jostled and could be easily snuffed out if he willed it. All it would take was a little puff of air, and their connection would nothing but smoke. Then he could focus his sole attentions on his new mate and her needs... but something deep inside him wanted to hang on to that little flame. At least for the moment. But he'd be hard pressed to come up with a good reason as to why that was.
Up and down the halls they went, ducking into a few more rooms to avoid the patrols and dashing back up the staircases to the ground level. When they made it to the level they entered at, Cassian made them halt before entering the hall, his ear pressed to the wood of the door. They were all deathly silent as they waited for his signal, and after a minute or two, the general waved his hand and they all slipped quietly into the corridor. So far this stealth mission was going exactly according to plan. And that disturbed Azriel greatly. It was so easy to get Gizelle out of here, too easy.
Gizelle wrapped her arms tightly around his neck for a better grip and buried her head in his neck as he ran, doing his best not to jostle her too much as they approached the exit.
They made their way to the exit, again a little too easily, and Azriel had to wonder if this was a trap of some sort, or if their luck was about to run out. Surely this mission would not be so simple. Surely Hybern would not have left his stronghold this poorly defended... right?
He shook his mind of those negative thoughts and focused on the female in his arms, deciding that if they got out of here without too much trouble, then that was a blessing from the Cauldron itself, and who was he to question it. There were more important things to worry about right now.
The smell of the fresh night air hit him like a slap in the face when they exited the castle and spotted Mor standing by the exterior wall, keeping watch. She spotted them as well, checked the wall and then gave the signal. They ran. When they reached the wall and slipped quietly over the gate via their wings, Azriel had to fight from drawing in a relieved breath. He would not take that breath until he and his mate were safe in Velaris.
Under the cover of darkness, they took off into the night sky and carefully made their way passed the wards, before winnowing the rest of the way. Azriel relished the feeling of his mate gripping him tightly as he flew, and listened to the sound of her breaths as they passed her sweet lips in little puffs against the skin of his neck.
"Is this the Night court?" she asked quietly as they flew over Velaris.
"Yes. This is Velaris, the largest and most treasured city in the Night Court."
Azriel watched as Gizelle's eyes widened at the sight of the sparkling city below them, and her gasps of delight at the sound of the nightlife and peacefulness of the river made his lips twitch in a small grin. Oh the things he would show her once she was settled.
"I've never been to the Night Court before." She said over the wind as they neared the townhouse. "Father never let me leave Arborra." She gave a little chuckle as she shivered and burrowed in closer to him. He didn't know what to say to that, so he settled for holding her just a little tighter as they all touched down outside the townhouse. Mor was up the steps first and holding the door open for Azriel as he strode in with his female, heading straight for the couch in the sitting room. Rhys, Cassian and Feyre filed in after him and Feyre whispered something to her mate before he nodded and looked over to him.
Brother, why don't you take our new guest up to my and Feyre's rooms, find her something to wear besides that damned sheet and then we can answer everyone's burning questions?
Azriel nodded and rerouted his trajectory from the couch to the staircase.
"Wait, where are we going?" Gizelle asked, whipping her head around to try to peer over his shoulder.
"I am taking you to find some clothes to wear," he said simply, ascending the stairs with measured steps so ask not to jostle his precious cargo.
"Ah." She clucked her tongue. "Is my sheet not good enough for you Illyrians and your delicate sensibilities?" she teased and patted his shoulder, with a little cheeky smirk.
He looked down at her, confused at how she could joke about her state of undress after the harrowing experience she had gone through.
"You will be more comfortable in suitable clothing," he supplied, not knowing what else to say. She gave another humorless chuckle and patted his chest.
"I was just teasing, big guy. I would actually love something to wear that didn't require me to hold it up all the time."
He nodded, reaching the landing and turning down the hall that would take them to Rhys and Feyre's rooms. Gizelle didn't say anything else as they walked, and he was grateful for that. He didn't want to make light of her trauma, and he didn't exactly know how to joke around with females. He could get in a good jibe or two with Rhys and Cassian, but he was completely out of his depth when it came to her. He didn't want to misstep and ruin their fledgling relationship so soon.
Azriel let them into the room without much difficulty and crossed the room to where a couple chairs sat facing the fireplace. He deposited Gizelle on the nearest one and turned back toward the closet. He didn't know what items of his High Lady's that were off-limits, so he just grabbed a matching set of a deep, forest green blouse and pants. They were silky and looked as if they would fit his mate just fine. Although she was rather short for most fae, almost as short as Amren, so the pants would probably be a bit long on her, but they would have to do until they could get her a wardrobe of her own.
Perhaps that was something they could do together tomorrow, he mused as he headed out of the closet with the clothing.
"I found these, although they may be a bit long on you." He offered her the clothes and then gestured to the bathing room to their right. "Do you wish to change in the bathing room?"
She nodded her head vigorously and jumped up from the chair, her delicate wings fluttering softly behind her in a lazy fashion, as if they were warming up from a long period of disuse. Azriel's hands twitched at his sides and was prepared to catch her if necessary, but she didn't end up needing it. She took the clothes from him with a grateful smile and took slow, careful steps toward the bathing room, making sure she didn't trip over the sheet still wrapped around her.
I dropped the sheet to the floor as soon as the bathing room door swung shut and placed my armful of clothing on the counter. I pulled the blouse over my head and adjusted the front with a few grunts of irritation. This top was clearly made for someone with a smaller chest than mine, and the low cut of the blouse meant that my breasts were on full display and there was a very real danger that someone might get an eyeful of nipple if I moved too quickly to the side.
The pants gripped my ass like a lover's embrace and flowed like liquid silk down to my ankles where the fabric puddled against the tops of my feet. A quick roll or three of the hems brought them to a manageable length and then I was ready to go.
Just before my hand gripped the handle of the door, I spotted myself in the mirror and gasped at the sight before me. It had been nearly a year since I had seen my own reflection and I almost wished I had gone a bit longer. My hair was a tangled mess and and I was much paler than I had ever seen myself before. I looked terrible, for lack of a more fitting description.
Digging through the drawers of what I had to assume were Feyre and Rhys's father's bathing chamber, I squealed triumphantly as my hand clenched around the handle of a silver hair brush. I eagerly brought it to my roots as I drug it roughly through my snarled locks, strands of hair snapping in protest. I whimpered when the brushed snagged on a tender spot and slowed the torture I was inflicting on my scalp.
A soft knock on the door startled me and I let go of the brush, the thing lodged in the tangles at the back of my head, and I opened the door. Azriel stood on the other side, a look of concern on his face as his gaze raked over me. I could tell when his gaze reached my chest because his eyes widened ever so slightly and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.
"It sounded like you might need some help," he said, voice gruffer than it was before. I thought about refusing and going back to the war against my hair in peace, but at the thought of someone else taking on that burden I suddenly felt the fatigue of my arms and the shaking of my legs, as if realizing them for the first time. I had done nothing but sleep and eat for practically a whole year, so my muscles were weaker and my body unused to this amount of activity. I studied Azriel's arms and how they bulged with the evidence of his time spent at swordplay and labor. Those were arms that could slaughter entire armies, rip grown males in two and lift whole tree trunks... but they could also run a brush through my thick hair without tiring.
"My hair..." I said quietly, twisting to look back in the mirror at the monstrosity. "I was trying to brush it, but I was too impatient and my arms too tired to work all of the tangles out."
Azriel stepped silently into the bathing chamber and shut the door behind him. Without a word, he pulled a chair up to the counter and gestured for me to take a seat. I gave him a curious look but he just quirked his lips a hair and nodded at the chair.
"Please, sit," he said softly, the heat in his eyes from earlier now a distant memory as he gathered various bottles from a shelf next to a large tub. I stood there for a moment, shocked at how doting he was being, before I clumsily took a seat in the chair. Tamira, while my nursemaid and caregiver for most of my life, had never been as soft-spoken and gentle with me. This male was a warrior, a ruthless Illyrian warrior, that had trained since birth to become a killing machine. And yet, here he was in this bathing room, ready to tend my poor ravaged hair.
"Is there a scent you prefer?" he asked while studying the vials of soaps.
"No lavender," I blurted a little too quickly and forcefully to sound normal, and Azriel peeked over his shoulder at me, a quizzical look on his face. I rubbed my arms up and down absently as I stared at the floor. "They washed me with lavender soaps and oils," I said, my voice sounding hollow. "They said it was the king's preferred scent. But when I asked for orchid flower soap, they said they'd never heard of it before, which is just ridiculous. I mean, everyone loves the scent of orchids, they were one of our most popular exports." I rubbed my arms more vigorously as my breaths came in faster puffs as I recalled the conversations between me and Hybern's horrid 'healer'. "I know Rhys said he forgot, but I guess I never realized what that meant or the extent of it. How could people forget about orchids, though? Me, sure, but why waste the spell on such trivial things like orchids? They're my favorite flower, you know, so soft and sweet smelling, but they didn't do anything to anyone, they didn't do anything wrong. They were just flowers! Why should they suffer the ill effects of Hybern's stupid curse? They're just flowers for Cauldron's sake! Anyone is allowed to love and remember them! Why-
"Shh," Azriel whispered, and I hadn't realized he had kneeled before me until he held the sides of my face in his large warm hands and my eyes darted frantically around the room as my breaths sawed violently in and out of my chest. But I was too worked up to focus on anything right now, felt too hot in my own skin to just sit here. I needed to move, to do something with my hands before I combusted. I tried to get up but Azriel pressed gently on my shoulders, keeping me in the chair before returning his hands to my cheeks and forcing me to look up at him.
His hazel gaze caught mine and I felt my heart stutter for a moment, the pounding of it against my ribcage slowing a fraction. His thumbs swiped over my cheeks and I only now noticed that I had been crying. Stunned, I looked up at the warrior. When I got like this, Tam would just race for the kitchens to make me some tea, but usually by the time she got back I had either trashed my room, pulled handfuls of hair from my scalp, or passed out on the floor from breathing too hard and too fast.
"You're safe now," his kind voice washed over me like a warm breeze and I felt my muscles relax slightly. "You went through something terrible, but I promise you, Gizelle Verissimon, that I will make sure that never happens again. You will always be safe with me."
Those words halted my heart completely. The absolute conviction in his tone, in his eyes, astounded me. Why was this male pledging these words to me? I didn't deserve to have the protection of such a male, not after what I did, not with the shame I carried. I shook my head slowly.
"You don't mean that," I whispered, another tear escaping as it coursed down my cheek. He caught it with his thumb and smoothed the rough pad over my cheekbone.
"But I do. I mean it with everything that I am."
"Why?" I choked the word out, still not believing that he would offer something so precious to a complete stranger. "I'm no one to you."
His eyes seemed to sparkle and the shadows seemed to shimmer and dance around him as his lips quirked up lightly to one side.
"You are everything to me, little flower" he said quietly. "You are my mate, Gizelle."