Chapter 1
Elain raised her hand to the peeling blue door beneath the glow of the rising sun in Velaris - and hesitated.
This was a new beginning - a new future. But did she deserve it? She certainly had not deserved to live through those belly-aching, starving winters in the cottage. Had her younger sister Feyre not stepped up, she and her family would be nothing but dust and bones. What kind of person made her younger sister brave the dangers of the woods, while she sat trembling by the fire?
Elain's face burned with shame. She rubbed her face, as if scrubbing the memory away.
But she had wielded Truth-Teller with trembling hands - straight through the neck of the King of Highbern. She had not hesitated then, when it mattered most. She had saved Nesta and Cassian, though she was not fast enough to save her father.
Father….
Elain's chest ached. The heaviness of it travelled down like a sinking stone in her belly. No… Maybe today wasn't the day for this. Elain was just about to drop the hand raised to that blue door when a voice broke the crisp morning air.
"Are you going to open it or not?" Azriel's gruff voice broke the silence.
Elain squeaked, whirling to face the Shadow-Singer. His shaggy, dark hair fell to his forehead, and his wings were neatly tucked behind him. The rising sun cast light across his irises, turning hazel into molten gold.
She had not heard him approach, though she never did. He seemed to appear and disappear as silently as the shadows who served him.
"I - I…." Elain breathed unevenly. She still wore the glass-stained rose necklace he'd bought her for Winter Solstice. Her neck tingled where she'd felt his fingertips at the nape of her neck as he'd clasped it months ago. Elain thought she saw a shadow curling down from her collarbone, but when she looked, she only laid eyes on the sparkling rose at the hollow of her throat.
Azriel cleared his throat. "It's…" Azriel searched for a description, as he gazed up at the weather-stained building. It was made of river stone - mossy, with vines crawling up the sides and into the cracks. The property included a small front with worn pavement, and a back garden overgrown with weeds that backed onto the Sidra River.
"It's perfect." Elain whispered.
Azriel lifted his chin, his bright hazel eyes scanning the exterior of the building with uncanny focus. It was as if he could see through the walls. Elain shifted, remembering how it felt to have the focus of those eyes on her. As if he could see right through -
"Are you going inside, or shall I open the door for you?" The corners of Azriel's lips lifted a fraction.
From the moment she had wielded Truth Teller, Elain promised herself that she would no longer be a coward. This was the first step. She pushed the door open. It squeaked on its hinges, and some of the blue paint flaked, leaving curled pieces on the porch.
Gazing into the interior of the dusty building, Elain's heart lifted. She did not see the cobwebs, the dust, or the creaky stairs. She did not smell the musty, damp smell of the floorboards. She did not hear the mice skittering upstairs.
She could see her dream. The gleaming counter, stacked with teacups, and a line of customers. The roaring fireplace, and the cozy tables and chairs. The warm lighting, and the smells of jasmine, lavender and mint. It was perfect. Everything she'd imagined. This could be a place to come together, to share stories over warm mugs.
"Can't you see it?" Elain asked, her brown eyes alight with joy and hope. She raised her arms, spinning around in a gleeful circle. "The garden… Roses, lavender, tulips and lilacs. Mint and coriander… " She trailed off, her smile bright.
Azriel stared at her, head tilted, expression unreadable.
Elain began almost skipping to the back door, leading to the weedy garden. Such was her joy, focusing on her dreams for the building, that she did not see the loose floorboard before the door. The toe of her boot snagged on the rough wood, sending her tumbling forward, golden hair spilling over her face -
Into the soft embrace of wings and darkness.
"Careful." Azriel spoke darkly from behind her, lips curling into an almost-smile. Elain could feel the solid warmth of him behind her, and she was mesmerized by the dark, membranous wings wrapped around her. She could see the sunlight shining through the silky membrane, changing the colour from black to hues of deep purple; like lavender, or violet lilies. She wondered if his wings felt as the petals of flowers did: soft and velvety.
As if entranced, she reached up, one fingertip tracing the line of a purple spidery vein on his left wing.
Azriel's reaction was immediate. He tightened his arms around her and shuddered. Goosebumps rose on his bare forearms, and he released a shaky breath. She thought she felt something firm against her backside.
He released her as if she'd electrocuted him. Elain wobbled, barely catching herself from landing face first onto the floorboards which he'd just saved her from. Azriel was on the other side of the room, chest heaving, blue siphons glowing. His fists were clenched. His eyes blazed - and Elain could not decide what emotion lay within them.
It was then that she remembered it was incredibly inappropriate to touch an Illyrian's wings without their permission. Her cheeks began to burn. He was probably furious with her, and rightly so.
"I have to go." he said tightly. "Meeting at the House of Wind." He was turned from her, wings flaring, darkness gathering around him.
Elain opened her mouth to speak, but he was already gone.