Mor's jaw drops slightly and her eyes glimmer. "Gwyn? Like, Nesta's Gwyn? The—the girl you saved from Sangravah", she realizes as she says it, her demeanor dampening a bit. "Wow, Az."

Azriel grumbles. "She's not /Nesta's/ Gwyn."

She smirks and chuckles. "Woah there, you know what I meant."

"I have to confront her about it. When—when the bond snapped into place, she was a bit drunk and I...I had my guard down which I never do. But it was just the girls there and so, there was no threat. And it just happened, and I bid them all goodnight and sort of..."

"Sort of what?"

"Fled", he cringes.

"Az!"

"I—I wasn't expecting it, especially after all these years, I had resigned myself to either trying with other women or letting myself believe I was cursed by the Cauldron and that I didn't have a mate. So I was completely stunned."

"You need to go and talk to her. Right now! You can't wait! She will overthink it and it will tear her apart, believe me."

Azriel nearly flinches again at the mere thought that his actions could have hurt Gwyn, so he nods slowly. "I never thought I'd have a mate", he repeats, musing about his luck.

Mor smiles and gives his shoulder a squeeze. "You've waited a long time Az. You deserve to be happy. Gods, you deserve to be happy. I'm glad you finally get the chance. And yes, you do deserve her, just as she deserves you. That's what mates are for. More often than not they are perfect puzzle pieces. A lot more often than not...so remember that. She will fit perfectly with you, and I can't wait to see how much your life improves because of her."

He can feel tears threaten his eyes, so he clears his throat and inclines his head before shooting into the sky, making a beeline for the library. He sniffs and wipes his face quickly, pulling himself together before landing on the balcony and tucking his wings behind him. Taking a shuddering breath, he enters the library and makes the decline to the main level, seeing Clotho behind the counter. As he wafts towards her silently through the shadows, he notices her hands stop moving with work, hovering, as if sensing him coming near.

Once his shadows set him back on his feet he rests his scarred hands on the counter. He never knows if she can see or not, but she has very keen senses. "Hello, Clotho. It's Azriel. I was wondering if you've seen Gwyn today? I need to speak to her about an urgent matter."

Clotho's pen moves with her magic across her notepad, asking him if it is in regards to her training since she had been working so many hours.

"No. Another...another matter. Have you seen her?"

The pen moves again. "Down on the third floor, doing research for Merrill. It's fairly dark down there, but I'm sure that's no problem for you. Fortunately, it's no problem for Gwyn either. Congratulations, Shadowsinger."

Azriel furrows his brow, stunned at how Clotho could possibly know. Had Gwyn told her? What does she mean that the dark is no issue for Gwyn?

He swallows and murmurs. "Thank you. I-I don't know how you always seem to know things. However, I appreciate your well wishes. Good day."

"Good day", the pen scribbles out.

Moving through the shadows to be as quiet as possible, he makes his way down to the third floor. Clotho was right about it being dark. Aside from the very dim, old looking lights spaced out on the high ceiling, there is only one window at the end for natural light. Wisping from shadow to shadow, he makes quick work of looking for the spritely redhead. Then he finds her.

His shadows immediately get excited. So much in fact that they drop him onto his feet in his physical form so suddenly that he gasps and tumbles forward onto the floor, his wings flopping over his head. They have never once been so clumsy, and now it looks like it was him. Azriel grunts and scolds them in a hushed whisper.

As he picks himself up, re-adjusting his wings and swiping down his perfectly ironed dark navy shirt, that's when he sees her. Standing in the middle of the aisle, a stack of books in hand, her jaw slack and her mystically teal eyes wide and staring at him as if she has just seen an anomaly.

"Gwyn", he breathes out, the mate bond pulling at him so fiercely that he feels breathless.

Blinking quickly a few times, she closes her mouth and averts her eyes to the books in her hand, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. "Azriel", she murmurs, inclining her head politely. H-How can I assist you today?"

Azriel walks over to her quietly, unsure about how to answer or where to begin. "I—I'm not here for a book, Gwyneth."

Gathering her gumption, she raises her head to look at him inquisitively. "I had a feeling you were going to say that."

He waves his arm towards where a small table and chair lean against a far wall of the aisle. "May we?"

"Okay", she whispers, following his lead. Azriel sits in the velvety red chair, readjusting his wings uncomfortably, as it is not built for Illyrian wings.

"I'm sorry, we really should um...get chairs more suited for wings too", she blushes. "Y'know since the High Lord and...and you and Cassian and even Emerie...", she rambles.

"I'm not here about the chairs, Gwyn", he reminds her softly. His voice drips and rasps smoothly like velvety melted chocolate.

"Right", she swallows, perching on the edge of the chair opposite of him. "Well, I—"

"I'm—"

They both begin at the same time and Gwyn bites her lower lip. "Apologies, go ahead."

"No, no, you go, I insist."

She lets out a breath and nods. "Okay. So...I know the other night was...shocking to say the least. I'm so embarrassed about my behavior. I never let loose like that and I—I'm mortified."

Azriel's stoic expression softens and his eyes glimmer in the dim light of the library. "Gwyneth Berdara, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. You were having an enjoyable night with friends and I crashed it, and...then things transpired, and when things got serious...I ran away. Like a coward. I needed to see you to make things right."

Gwyn fiddles with her hands shyly and looks at him. "I should too. When you walked in, what you heard—it wasn't as you think. I tried to explain that night but I wasn't in the best state of mind."

"I believe you already told me that you didn't mean it. You're a truthful female, so I take you at your word."

Her eyes sparkle with unshed tears and she shakes her head. "No, Azriel. Please, let me explain. As you know, Nesta, Emerie, and I were drinking quite a lot. Nesta was talking about Cassian and Emerie was talking about the men and women she had dated before. And when they asked me I—I haven't. Y'know, since um..."

He swallows and nods, knowing that she is talking about her assault in the temple.

"So it was brought up that I had taken an interest in you", she continues, her cheeks flaming even brighter. "And I hadn't um, felt...anything for anyone before and maybe I was in denial I—I don't know. So they began to tease me about you and because I was put on the spot, I denied it."

Azriel listens, his heart tightening in his chest. Here he thought she would reject their mate bond because of her trauma, and yet she's saying that he's the only one she had been interested in ever since?

"I shouldn't have denied it. But I did because I was of the thought that you had a mate out there somewhere. That she would be incredible, and special, and perfect for you and so I was just stamping down the crush I had; because it's so silly right? Crushes are...silly. For girls, not fully grown females. And with my past I suppose—I figured I didn't have a mate out there. Because I was...tainted so long ago, and I resigned myself to this life. To the library and then to training, filling my days with busy work to feel fulfilled. To give myself a purpose again. And it helped me through a lot. Dealing with what happened to me, and with losing my sister."

Azriel's eyes get watery again, but this time he doesn't feel the intense need to hide it.

"I never forgot the strong, imposing, and gorgeously brutal Illyrian male who had swooped in and slain my tormenters. Who, despite those qualities was nothing but absolutely tender with me in my worst moment. The male who carried me back to safety and gave me a place to heal." Gwyn sniffles, but a small smile graces her lips. "I never forgot you, Azriel."

A lone tear slips down his cheek as he looks at her, feeling the mate bond humming between them as his shadows swirl around them contentedly. Gwyn leans forward in her chair and raises her hand slowly enough so he could stop her if he chose to, before gently stroking the tear from his face with her thumb.

They both share an intake of breath as their skin tingles between their simple touch.

"Gwyn...I never forgot you either", he murmurs, wanting to say so much more, but words not coming too freely to him at the moment. "I didn't believe I had a mate either. Turns out the Mother was biding her time for us both to be ready...for each other. That is, if—if you don't plan on rejecting me..."

She slowly drops her hand from his cheek and shakes her head. "A mate bond is a gift. A blessing from the Mother herself. A sacred connection. Not to mention that you always caught my attention, especially recently. Looking back, it feels foolish not to have recognized it for what it was. But we both had to be vulnerable enough to receive the gift of our bond."

With a smile, she adds, "maybe it took so long because you never seemed like the vulnerable, emotional type."

Azriel blushes as his shadows begin to dance around her in triumph before weaving around her arms. "I wasn't. Rather...I haven't been. Not since my own traumatic experiences when I was young. I told myself it was better to be hardened than to be broken ever again. But sometimes, I suppose, you find someone who makes it impossible to be neutrally stoic. Someone who opens a closed heart and shatters an indestructible wall within."

Gwyn glances at his hands and goes to reach out, but he pulls them away in a quick but distracting maneuver, tucking them under his armpits. She bites her lip and rests hers back on her knees. "That was really poetic. But also very true."

"Thank you, sometimes I do have bursts where words come to me. I'm not always 'silent and broody', as I've heard you three mention."

Gwyn covers her face amusedly and chuckles. "Oh, Gods..."

"Little tip, I'm the best listener while in my 'silent and broody' moods", he says, quirking a playful smile at her.

"I'm sorry. They like to gossip..."

"Oh please. I think Cassian may have you three beat for gossip, as well as bluntness. It's not something I haven't heard before. So, no worries."

She grins beautifully and Azriel can't help but feel a million flutters within himself, stealing his breath away once again as his cheeks pinken. Gwyn blushes as well and focuses, gently tugging on the mate bond, Azriel's gaze locking with hers.

"Oh good, it works. I—I just wanted to be sure. Nobody ever tells you how it works, but I suppose it's simply instinct once there is one."

He smiles happily and tugs on it back gently, eliciting a small giggle from her as she begins to glow; a soft white aura surrounds her as he hears her tilled laugh, as beautiful as bells in a chorus.

"Gwyn", he gasps softly, unable to take his eyes away.

Once she realizes she turns red and gets up immediately, the glow slowly fading back into her body and disappearing. "Azriel, I'm sorry I—"

"Wait. Gwyn, it's alright." He tugs on the bond, trying to imply comfort to her. "Don't be embarrassed. You...you're beautiful", he whispers.

"I let my resolve slide and I could've affected you. I'm sorry. Usually, I'm much more careful", she says, her voice trembling in ways Azriel had never seen her so shaken.

Before she can turn and flee, Azriel reaches out and captures her arm, very gently, beneath his hand. "Gwyn", he calls softly. "I'm not afraid. I've seen too much in my lifetime to be afraid of whatever power you possess that you don't want anyone to know about. I've heard enough terrifying things about my own shadows that aren't true by residents in Velaris, to know that sometimes lore is just lore. I've heard people say my shadows can enter them and stop their hearts from the inside. That they can take over bodies and turn them into brainless soldiers. That they can turn me into an inky monster like Bryaxis. None of which is true. But I've heard so many things about so many creatures that it's hard to know the truth in everything. But one truth stands. You are my mate, Gwyn. And I am yours."

Gwyn slowly turns around to face him, tears running down her freckled cheeks. "I told you that I would never reject you. But you may reject me. I have been untruthful to everyone, even my friends. It is a secret my mother made me swear to keep from birth. I swore to her that I would, and I have. I don't want to hurt you, Azriel."

"You won't hurt me. I'm not afraid", he repeats. As much as he wants to wipe the tears from her face, he doesn't want to cross a line or make her uncomfortable with touches.

"Merrill will be furious that I have taken so long. I—I must get back to work."

"Fine", he nods, dropping his hand. "Can you visit the House of Wind later? For dinner?"

"Dinner? W—with you?"

"Well...I would like to get to know my mate better. And unfortunately, I suspect you would too. Don't worry, I'll politely kick out Cass and Nesta for the night. Maybe they can go to Rita's with Mor."

She ponders for a moment then lets out a weak acceptance. "Alright...but I can't promise you will still want to be my mate after I tell you the truth."

"I know that nothing will sway me from upholding my mate bond as sacred, Gwyneth."

"I suppose we will find out."

"That we will."

"Right then. I best be off."

"Seven?"

"Seven", she nods in the affirmative, quickly moving toward the stairs before casting a glance back at him with a small, unsure smile, before disappearing up them.