Velaris was even more beautiful than Perce had ever imagined, even in the drawings she'd made, the ones using her magic. And here she was, with Azriel, the male who's story she'd followed more closely than almost anyone. He was younger than she'd imagined, looking extremely handsome and only about twenty. His scarred hand gripping her bones, he led her through the city to what she recognised as the Sidra.
"The Rainbow of Velaris," she breathed, forearms braced on the bridge's railing. "It was my favourite place to daydream about. I always wondered if it was as beautiful as I imagined."
There was the sounds of wings, and Rhysand, Feyre and Cassian landed not far away from the pair.
"Brother, Perce," Rhys smiled, strolling up to them. "We were just about to head to dinner. Care to join?"
Perce glanced at the shadowsinger, who shrugged. "Fine by me."
"Ditto. Sounds great, High Lord," Perce seconded.
"What's ditto?" Cassian laughed. "Sounds like a skin disease or something."
Feyre smacked his arm.
"It just means I agree, or I think the same," Perce shrugged, pulling her hood up.
Rhysand smiled. "Alright. Oh, and call us by our names. We don't really do formalities in this family."
Family. The word made Perce's heart warm. "Cool."
They made their way to the Fae's favourite restaurant, Perce and Azriel walking together in silence.

Azriel's shadows were… different. They seemed quieter, more relaxed when Perce was around, growing excited when she came near, when her accent-tainted, expressive voice was heard. She didn't seem to be able to stop marvelling at everything, like a youngling in a candy store, unable to hide her bubbly excitement.
"Easy," Azriel laughed. "We'll have plenty of time to see everything."
She grinned at him. "What's on your teeth?" He asked, noting the coloured squares and wire along both rows of teeth.
"They're called braces," she explained, tapping the wire. "They help straighten everything."
"Does it hurt?"
She had to think about it. "Sometimes, when I have to get them tightened and stuff."
He was intrigued by her Otherness. "Tell me about yourself."
"Only if you let me see your tattoos?" She suggested, genuinely interested.
He laughed. "Later. Look."
They reached the restaurant, Az sitting beside Perce, Rhys on her other side. They were asking her questions about her life.
"Okay, okay. Lemme see… I'm almost nineteen, I'm the only child of Death, and… Yeah, I need specifics."
Rhysand laughed. "What is it like? Being his daughter."
She chewed her lip. "Pretty cool. You get some crazy souls sometimes. But otherwise, Día de Muertos is my favourite day."
"I believe we have something like it," Azriel remembered. "A sort of celebration, for the soldiers who die in battle."
She tilted her head slightly, a small smile on her face as she blinked big, doe-like eyes. "Cool. What do you do?"
"Well… there's a feast, and parties. Mor will tell you more about it," Cassian grinned, taking a swig of liquor.
"A recognition," Rhys clarified. "We have a party at the House of Wind. It's in four days, you're welcome to attend."
She smiled. "Thanks."
Dinner was served, and Perce marvelled at how delicious she thought it tasted. Azriel couldn't help but watch her, his shadows dancing and purring her name. "That reminds me, we need to get you a spot in the townhouse," Rhys told her, smiling with pride at her words of how amazing their city was. Azriel's shadows spoke, making him blurt- "She can stay with me."
She blinked at him twice, and he began to fade, but her face split into a smile, and she rested her hand on his. "Thanks."
They finished dinner and Azriel walked her to his room in the townhouse, blushing slightly as he pulled off his shirt so she could see the symmetrical, almost floral-looking tattoos like vines down his torso.
She brushed her fingers over them, and he inhaled, his shadows sighing, wings tucked tight. "They're beautiful."
This made his blush deepen. "Thank you," he muttered.
Then he got an idea, flashing a lopsided grin. "As payback for earlier, mind if I look at your wings?"
Elain had stitched them together, along with Feyre's magic helping, but Madja would be along tomorrow.
Either way, her wings looked a lot better, and he gently brushed fingers along where he knew the most sensitive parts were.
She made a small noise. "Not fair," she gasped.
He chuckled. "Of course it is. They're quite wonderful."
She flared them wider, shuddering as he ran his hands along them. "Gods, that feels…"
"Now you know how I felt earlier." He stopped, though a part of him wished she'd touch his wings again, touch his tattoos. Then he cursed himself. What's wrong with me?
"I'm- I'm gonna take a bath," she muttered, as flustered as he was.
He handed her one of his shirts, and she flashed a quick smile, before searching in the bag she'd had with her when he'd found her. Paint, and some soap were what she pulled out. "Might redo this," she said, gesturing to her face paint.
"Maybe tomorrow. I- I'd like to see you without it," Azriel replied, immediately embarrassed. The pair blushed. He only knew that she did from the gaps in the paint, the pale skin reddening.
She locked herself in the bathroom, and Azriel groaned, pressing his palms into his eyes. What's going on? His heart pounded, the shadowsinger nervous and excited simultaneously. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, wanted to be hers. It was the most terrifying but amazing feeling he'd ever felt.

He lay shirtless in his bed, Perce walking out of the bathroom with an unadorned face, smelling of sweet things, with an undertone of rotting fruit and blood. Her moon-white face reddened as her eyes caught on his torso. "I- uh…"
He winced, and she sat beside him, wearing only his shirt, a bit too big for her.
Their wings brushed, and then immediately both drew them in. Her skin was covered in freckles, not an inch of space uncovered by ink or brown spots scattered across her skin like dark stars. Her face, arms, back and legs were absolutely covered, and he had no doubt the rest of her was too.
Slowly, they let their wings reach each other again, and Perce relaxed, lying beside Azriel and curling beside him, their wings touching.
"It's been a cool day," she muttered, nuzzling his shoulder.
Azriel rolled onto his side, wings wrapped around her, then his arms, and she buried her head in his shoulder, her hand on his wing. He wished they could stay like that forever.

In the morning, Perce woke first. She felt strangely safe and comfortable, wrapped in his arms and wings, his face softened by sleep. His dark hair messy and his shadows faint, kissing his golden skin, he looked absolutely beautiful. She studied the rock-hard warrior's body, corded with muscle, the chiseled features and strong jaw, lightly running fingers over each part of him until he sighed in his sleep, a faint smile blooming as he rested his head on her shoulder. He looked so young, so innocent. His golden eyes opened, and immediately fixed on Perce. She stroked his hair, and he nuzzled her shoulder.
"Morning," she whispered. "Sleep well?"
He nodded, yawning. "We should get up. Madja's coming today."
But he didn't move, drifting back into sleep, and Perce's heart pounded. Here she was, Azriel in her arms, her in his, wrapped together. She blushed.
There was a knock, and Rhysand stood in the doorway, smiling when he saw Azriel. "Give him a few minutes. He's not really a morning male."
The High Lord leaned casually against the doorframe, smirking at the spymaster. "I think that's the best he's slept in centuries."
Azriel stirred again, blinking at Rhysand and gripping Perce tighter, a growl emanating from deep in his throat.
Rhys held up his hands. "Don't worry, brother, I'm not going to touch her. Feyre's going to take her back to Velaris to get some things later, if she's to live here."
Perce grew excited, though Azriel seemed agitated, scowling at Rhysand. The male only flashed a grin back.

Rhys

So the bond had clicked in their sleep, neither noticing. Rhysand studied the instincts that roared through his brother, to protect his mate. Perhaps the pair just took it for the effects of a good night's sleep in a half-millennia of bad ones. Rhysand smiled when he saw she was wearing his shirt, then frowned as he realised she had nothing else to wear. He'd ask Mor to get her some things. Azriel's in a bit of a mood, he laughed down his mating bond.
What did you do now? His mate teased back.
Come see.
 Feyre sighed down the bond, and appeared a minute later with a tray of food for them all. She smiled at the sight of Az and Perce.
The bond clicked, but I don't think they realised, he explained.
She tried to hide her excitement. "I brought breakfast," she said instead, setting the tray down beside Perce and smiling at her.
You know this means Cassian and I are going to have to have our arses handed to us, Rhys said silently.
Yes. Be careful. Though I kind of want to watch, you both would deserve it, really. But don't hurt him, Rhysand.
Rhys chuckled.
Perce still stroked Az's midnight hair, and the spymaster made a noise that could have been a purr.
"He's so adorable," she marvelled, giggling. "And… soft."
Azriel leaned into her touch.
Madja stepped into the room, smiling warmly.
"You must be the Princess. I'm just here to help your wings heal, and check for other injuries."
Rhysand winked at his brother, and Azriel scowled, hissing slightly.
Madja shook her head, warning the pair to take their squabbles outside.
 Azriel begrudgingly got up, threw on a shirt, and shoved past Rhysand.
That bond is going to kill us all, the latter sighed silently to his mate, following after the shadowsinger to rile him up.
Madja instructed the young princess onto her stomach, wings spread. "I must say, High Lady, you've done a remarkable job, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to reopen the wounds to heal them properly."
As she used her magic to remove the stitches, Perce hissed in pain.
Feyre prayed to the Mother and Cauldron Rhys had Azriel under control.
Whatever's going on, his voice groaned through the bond. It better not go on for long. Azriel's practically trying to crush us to get to her.
Their bond is new, and strong, Feyre winced. After this, I'll draw you a nice long bath. Madja's just had to reopen the wounds to heal them.
Rhys swore. They're not that bad, are they?
She'll be able to fly, she'll just need time, Feyre reassured him.
The wounds were extremely terrible, though. One wing was shredded, the other ripped from talon to base.
Perce groaned weakly, and Madja brushed fingers over her brow, the princess's eyes closing. "She's in a lot of pain," the healer told Feyre. "That male, the shadowsinger… do they have a connection?"
"Yes, but they don't exactly realise."
"I see. And I suppose the High Lord is dealing with him now."
As she asked, there was a yelled curse word from downstairs, and a barked, forced laugh from Cassian.
Feyre winced. "Yes. Let's just hope they're all still in one piece."
The healer chuckled. "Let him get it all out now, it will help him. And your friends, too."
She sewed up the wings, and Perce made a small noise of pain. "It's alright," Madja reassured her. "Almost done. Now, she won't be able to fly for quite some time, and she needs rest."
She handed the High Lady a jar of amber oil, and gave one last smile before leaving the room. "She needs that for the pain. Perhaps letting her mate apply it will do them both good."
"Thank you, Madja," said a battered Rhys, appearing in the doorway as she left. He turned to his own mate. "I do believe someone suggested a bath." Azriel stalked into the room, sitting beside Perce and paling when he saw her bloody, ruined wings. "Will she"-
"She just needs rest, and this," Feyre told him gently, passing the jar to him. "Madja said once a day, starting whenever the pain gets too bad for her."
He nodded, glancing at Rhys, before the High Lord took his leave and whistled as he left. Feyre knew it was just a tactic, and he felt far worse than he showed, in case Azriel needed more time to pummel them and take off the edge. Feyre left too, gently closing the door behind her.

Perce groaned in her sleep, Azriel brushing hair off her moon-white face, tinged grey with pain. What's going on? He wondered. He'd practically beat his brothers senseless, a primal instinct roaring at him to protect Perce and keep the males away.
But now, it purred as he lay beside her sleeping form, scarred hands gripping hers and kissing her knuckles. His shadows whispered her name, caressing them both. Persephone, they moaned.
As though she could hear them, her eyes opened slowly, focusing on Azriel. "Az?" She breathed, her wings limp and quivering, her body shaking slightly.
"I'm here," he whispered back. His shadows screamed to kiss her, touch her.
He was terrified, but not.
"I'm so tired," she murmured.
"I know."
"Will you stay with me?"
"Always." He slid beside her, holding her gently, the jar of oil abandoned on the bedside table.
She groaned, struggling to shift her wings, but he gently used his own, her muscles relaxing as he pushed her wings gently into a better position so they wouldn't be drooping.
"It hurts," she gasped, and curled into him, head on his chest, breathing in his scent.
"I know," he said again, stroking her soft hair. "I know."