Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Do you want to play a game, Shadowsinger?

“So, looks like we’re going to be working with Eris a lot.” Cassian said to Azriel, as they left the war meeting with Rhysand. “What do you think? He’s helping us because he believes in the cause, or he's just tired of waiting around for Beron to die so he can get the Autumn’s throne?”

“I don’t know.” Azriel answered, not really focused. He tried to calm the beating of his heart.

Cassian smirked and nudged him. “Are you glad? That we will work with Eris?”

“Why would I be glad?”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“It’s hard to like him.” Azriel huffed.

Cassian laughed. “True. This pompous prick gets on my nerves like no one else.”

“I have to admit, he knows how to make a joke.” Azriel said with a half smile.

“You say that only because his jokes are rarely at your expense.”

Azriel knew Cassian was right. Eris rarely disrespected him, even when he went hard after his friends. He didn’t even call him bastard or brute, only “Shadowsinger”. Or “an Illyrian”, if he was really mad.

Azriel wanted to hate Eris, like Cassian and Mor. They had every reason to hate him. The Autumn Court had committed atrocities against their people, and there were things that Eris himself did to Mor, to Lucien, to Feyre. The way he acted didn’t help. Eris was smart, even Cassian would admit that, but he used clever words like weapons, always aiming to cut, to make others feel stupid and less prepared. His arrogance became insufferable, especially around his father.

But Azriel knew the version of Eris that lived beneath all that. Or used to.

He knew his real laugh, not the courtly smirk. He remembered what it was like to joke until they were both in tears, steal food from banquets to share in private, or pretend to get lost in parts of the estate they weren't supposed to be in. Their path rarely crossed, but when their eyes met in a crowded room, it always felt like they were the only two who spoke the same language.

Even with all the evidence showing that Eris was his enemy, Azriel still trusted him. And he knew the trust is mutual, they had tested it over the years. In the past they could talk about things that no one from their families would understand.

This trust between them started when they were young, still unburdened with the real responsibility or complicated history. One day at the Day Court ball, Azriel had wandered the marble corridors of the palace, sneaky like a shadow, always liked to quietly observe. He stepped into a room and froze.

Eris was there, half naked, tangled with a handsome lesser fairy male.

All three froze for a moment, and Azriel quickly turned and left the room. Eris lounged after him and shoved him, wings hit the cold wall.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he hissed, his breath hot against Azriel’s cheek. His voice was rough, but his eyes were filled with genuine fear.

“I won’t,” Azriel said, stiffly.

Azriel should’ve pushed him off. Should’ve said something cold. But he didn’t. He just waited. Heart pounding, breathing shallow.

“I’m serious. Not a word. Not even to your precious friends.”

Eris looked so different at that moment. He wore his red hair long back then, his usually pale face was flushed. Azriel couldn’t look away. He tried not to scan the bare chest, the undone pants, lips red and swollen from kissing.

“If my father finds out, he will torture me to death.” His gaze was locked on Azriel’s. “Promise.” He demanded.

“I promise, Eris. I won’t tell anyone.”

Eris let go. They looked at each other for a heartbeat. Azriel felt a sting of jealousy when Eris turned around and moved back towards the room, with the other man.

He remembered that night well. Because he kept remembering it, long after it happened. It had unlocked something for Azriel. In the Day Court, things like that weren’t exactly scandalous, but back home...

He kept his promise, and never told anyone. Even if Eris was particularly annoying and was using all the tricks up his sleeve to get a rise of Cassian, Azriel still didn’t say anything. And even when Rhysand questioned him about Autumn’s heir marriage prospects. A promise is a promise.

Eris later confessed to him that he’s not interested in women at all, and all those dates, rumors and late night dancing are all a part of the ruse. He needed to keep that part of himself secret.

And Azriel started sharing things with Eris too. Some insignificant things about himself at first, to test if Eris can keep a secret too. Then he shared things that usually earned him concerned looks from his family, or, at best, polite withdrawal from the topic. Things about the twisted way his brain works. About his violent dreams and morbid fantasies. Eris just listened without judging, sometimes cracking a joke like the most normal thing in the world. And Azriel loved that.

And Eris never revealed anything of it to anyone either. Never as a snarky remark, or a way to win an argument. Not even a hint to it. He promised he wouldn’t, so he didn’t.

This meant something special to Azriel, and that made him even angrier now. Eris turned out to be the true heir to Beron Vanserra, just as ruthless and heartless. This prick who tormented his family knew so much about him. He almost grieved the moments that they shared, because now he wasn’t sure if they were true. If it wasn’t a long played game that Eris was known for.

Are you glad that we’ll be working with Eris?

Azriel couldn’t sleep that night.

He stared at the ceiling, watching his shadow twirling in excitement above him like a smoke on a breeze. The anticipation, and the guilt clung to him. Did they know? Did Rhys or Cassian suspect how close he’d once been with Eris? Gods, did Mor?

It was more than jokes and shared secrets.

He resented this strange pull towards Eris that he had felt over the years. The way he wanted to follow him, to please him.

Hundreds of years ago. He remembered that day. Day when they crossed a line for the first time.

On a particularly boring Summer Court summit, Azriel went outside to stretch his wings. He remembered the heat and damp air that clung to his Night Court clothes as he stepped into the courtyard. He never liked hot weather.

He noticed Eris leaning against the white sandstone wall, holding a small glowing pipe between his fingers, looking into the distant turquoise water. He went up to him.

“You’re not in a meeting?”

“Couldn’t listen to that diplomatic drivel.” Eris said and smiled to Azriel. “There’s better company here.” He drew in from a graceful, hollow reed crafted from dark wood, lightly carved with curling vines. It smelled surprisingly soft and sweet. He let out a white cloud of smoke with silver sparkles. Azriel’s shadows turned into a black smoke and mingled with the white clouds, spinning and playing. Eris let out a quiet huff of amusement.

Azriel smiled and leaned against the wall too. He nodded at the glowing object in Eris’ fingers. “Can I have some?”

Eris shook his head. “Sorry, you need to wield fire to smoke it. Autumn’s special.”

They stood in silence for a moment, watching the shadows playing with their new friend, feeling the cool breeze from the sea on their faces. Eris finished and pushed off the wall.

“Do you want to do something fun, Shadowsinger?”

Azriel’s eyes lit up. He loved the little pranks they sometimes played with Eris, and he was ready for something interesting to happen that day.

Eris led them to a canopied pavilion set over shallow water.

“Let’s play a game.”

“What game?”

“The rules are simple. You do everything I tell you to.”

“…and?”

“That’s it.”

Azriel laughed. “That’s the stupidest game I’ve ever heard.”

“There’s a prize at the end.” Eris said while taking off his jacket.

Azriel lifted a brow. “What prize?”

Eris threw his jacket over the balustrade. “I’m not going to tell you what prize. You will have to play to find out. If you don’t chicken out, you will find out at the end.”

Azriel rubbed his forehead. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s a perfect game, really.” Eris casually leaned on the wall. “If you do what I tell you correctly, there’s a prize. If you don’t like to do something, you just don’t do it, and the game ends. You lose nothing.”

Azriel let out a laugh and considered for a moment. “All right.”

Eris pushed off the wall and went up to Azriel. “Let’s start the game. From now on you can’t say anything, no sounds. Or you’ll lose.”

Azriel scrunched his brows, but said nothing. He could feel his heart beating faster.

“Good.” Eris smiled. “Put your hands up.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and put his hands up.

“Down.” He put his hands down.

“Spread your wings wide.” He hesitated. He could feel his heart beating, wasn’t sure if it’s fear, or anticipation, or maybe something else. He spread the wings.

“Stretch them as wide as you can.” He obeyed, tips of his massive wings touched the greenery that entwined the beams.

“Good. Tuck them back.” He moved closer.

“Put your hands back behind you. Hold your hands there and keep them there until I tell you otherwise.”

Azriel did that. He felt heat rushing to his face.

“Close your eyes.”

Azriel closed his eyes. He stood still when he felt a hand on his throat.

Eris squeezed, but not hard enough to block the air. Then relaxed and kept his hand on Azriel’s neck. A touch of control. Azriel could feel his heartbeat in his neck, so strong that Eris’ hand was pulsing with it.

Eris moved his thumb on his lips. “Open your mouth.”

Azriel did, eyes still shut. A finger slid softly into his mouth, then out. Eris was holding his chin.

“Look at me.”

He looked at Eris. His face was composed, but a flush spread across his cheeks. Azriel could feel his own face burning, he tried to take deep, slow breaths to steady.

Eris smiled. “Kiss me.”

Azriel furrowed his brows. Moved his head but paused.

“Are you going to tap out so close to the finish? You were doing so well.”

His jaw clenched. Then he leaned in with his hands still behind, placed a quick peck on the lips and leaned back.

Eris smirked. “You’re not getting a point for that.” Azriel exhaled sharply. “I know you can do better. Be serious. It’s a serious game.”

Azriel smiled. He leaned again for a longer kiss. Their breath mingled and lips pressed together. They kissed gently, slowly. Eris put his hand on Azriel’s jaw.

Azriel tried to pull away but Eris gently kept his face in place. Azriel didn’t protest. Their tongues touched, kisses were deep and exploring. Azriel lost himself in the moment. Their bodies were flush together, both hearts beating fast. Eris tasted amazing, his skin was hot, his red hair felt like silk between Azriel’s scarred hands.

Eris murmured into his lips, “You lost.”

Azriel moved away, and blinked. “What?”

“I told you to keep your hands on your back. You didn’t.” Eris said with a sly smile.

Azriel groaned. He took a step back and wiped his mouth with his hand.

“Don’t be mad,” Eris teased. “Next time we play this game I’m sure you’ll do better.”

“Maybe next time we duel with swords?” Azriel hissed. “The first one to draw blood wins.”

“Swords are not my thing, I prefer daggers. Besides, we sparred many times. You end up on your back half the time.”

“I let you win. I could crush you if I wanted to.” He bit out.

“I know.” Eris said with a half-smile, reaching for his jacket. “That’s why it’s so fun. I know you’re strong. But you like to be under my boot. Don’t you.”

Azriel’s wings flared. “Go away before I bash your head in.” His eyes burned with rage.

Eris combed a hand through his hair and said without a smile, “No need to get angry Azriel. I’m not going to tell anyone.”

Azriel. That deflated his anger completely.

He stepped outside the pavilion and stretched his neck. He wasn’t even sure why he got so angry, and he was ashamed that Eris could calm him down so easily. Why was he even here, playing his stupid games? He launched into the air, no need to discuss this any further. Tactical retreat, he thought, preserving forces for future engagement. There was no winning in a verbal skirmish against Eris, Azriel knew that. He needed to feel the cold wind on his hot skin, to flush away all the feelings.

Azriel remembered how terrible he felt the next day about what happened. It wasn’t the fact that he gave in, but how much he enjoyed someone else taking the lead. He had spent centuries in control, in silence. In perfect mastery of his reactions. He couldn’t afford to be otherwise.

He was a shadowsinger. A spymaster. He didn’t play games.

He didn’t blush.

He definitely didn’t enjoy being touched like that, commanded like that.

It angered him that someone else would think that he enjoyed it. The next time he saw Eris he needed to show him how much he despised him, how wrong he was. He said some words that were more hurtful than necessary, just to get back some of the control.

But the worst part was that he already knew he would play the game again.

Over the years, they kept finding themselves alone in a room by accident, always by accident. And they always did something that left Azriel drained, self loathing, regretful. And Azriel wanted it each time. He always thought it had been the last time, and time and time again he couldn’t resist.

Now the prospect of Eris working closely was even more dangerous. It wouldn’t be a one off meeting on a random gathering in a foreign court. They would have to keep seeing each other, working together.

Azriel promised himself he will be good this time. This is important.

Tomorrow Eris will come to the House of Wind to discuss the next steps with Rhysand. They will have a chance to talk, really talk, for the first time in a long time. Under Amarantha, the Inner Circle had stayed locked in Velaris for fifty years, and Azriel had nearly forgotten what the rest of the world looked like. He didn’t have a chance to be alone with Eris since then.

He wondered what their meeting would look like. His stomach twisted in knots.

He didn’t sleep that night.

When Eris Vanserra arrived at the House of Wind, he looked like a High Lord. He carried himself with so much confidence, every movement deliberate and effortless at the same time. He spoke to Rhysand like an equal, like one ruler to another, not a temporary ally that asks for support.

He wore authority like a second skin. Watching them, Azriel had an urge to bow his head. He felt like a low rank soldier in the presence of his superiors, and it didn’t help that Eris didn’t even glance his way once.

Rhysand wanted to speak with Eris behind closed doors, and Azriel’s shadows slipped closer without him asking. Curious, they slipped under the door and spilled on the stone floor like ink. They whispered quiet snippets of the conversation back to Azriel. He listened, and the conversation was what is supposed to be - preliminary findings and offers.

Azriel clenched his jaw. Stop. The shadows fell silent.

He figured he would wait there. Maybe they would need him, as a spy master he had the most knowledge about the other courts, their alliances, movements and plans. So he stayed close.

When the doors opened and closed with other people coming in, he watched Eris’ cold composure. He had that arrogant poise, like nothing around him mattered. Other people’s plans, feelings, none of it seemed to reach him. Eris nowadays seemed to always be in control, and it made Azriel want to shake him until something real cracked through.

When they finally finished and they were saying their goodbyes, Azriel just happened to be walking by. Eris passed him without so much as a glance. Azriel followed him with his gaze until the door shut. Nothing, not even a look.

How dare he.

Eris walked through the corridors like Azriel was just another worker in the corner. Maybe that’s what he was to him, when this damn lordling didn’t feel like playing.

He’s in my court, in my house, and he doesn’t even look at me once.

Good, he thought. Great. This was what he wanted. Maybe Eris realized what a pain he was for everyone. This is good. Clean, clear distance. No need to confront him, no need to be careful. He had work to do, things to focus on.

He realized that he had spent an hour looking at a closed door, and now is arguing with another closed door. He asked the shadows to take him away.

Good. Great.

Rhysand gave an order to Cassian and Azriel.

“You will both attend tomorrow’s meeting. Get Mor and Amren too. We’ll discuss next steps with Eris, focus on what he’s saying and how he is saying it. I need your opinion about this alliance, to find out if we can really trust him.”

Azriel was good at studying people. He was excited for the prospect of watching Eris without the guilt of doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

“Do you suspect something?” Azriel asked.

Rhysand shook his head. “I just want to make sure. We can’t underestimate him. He always thinks two steps ahead, and I don’t want to end up as just a pawn in his game. I know you don’t like him that much,” he glanced at Cassian, “so it will be good for balance.”

Cassian cocked his head. “I didn’t know you two are best friends.”

Rhysand slid hands into his pockets and smiled. “I know what it’s like to be a son of a High Lord, although my time to replace my father came too soon. But we have some shared understanding. And I know what he has to live through in his court.” His eyes flicked to Azriel, as if he had more to say, but didn’t. He continued, “I guess I hope he’s being truthful with us, and that already puts me in a bad position.”

“You don’t need to worry about too much sympathy for that prick from me.” snorted Cassian.

When they gave the news to Morrigan, she had to pour a glass of wine.

“I still don’t understand why Rhys lets him walk through our doors,” she said, swirling the wine with a slow, deliberate motion. “After what he did.”

Cassian leaned back in his chair with a groan. “Don’t look at me. If it were up to me, I’d string him up on the Sidra bridge and let the wind do its work.”

“Wouldn’t that be poetic,” Mor murmured coldly.

Azriel said with his proper spy master voice, “Don’t worry, he won’t be a permanent guest here. We will meet with him from time to time to get reports, somewhere on the more neutral ground. You won’t have to see him much.”

Azriel knew Mor will be sent with a mission soon anyway, but he wanted her to feel better. He wanted her to know he’s on her side.

He listened to them talking, and he was glad for the reminder who they were dealing with. The image was already there, burned into the backs of his eyes. Mor’s broken body, bloodied and dumped like trash at the border. That note nailed into her flesh. The cold look in her eyes, at the edge of dying, when they found her.

And the thought that Eris had stood there and done nothing.

Azriel's hands clenched behind his back. He cared, really cared about Mor, and he left her there. Watched her suffer and walked away, like it’s not his problem. Like he wasn’t the indirect cause of all this. A sting of guilt shot every time he remembered. The person he considered his friend had done that. And so much more. Over the years there were many battles they fought on the opposite sides, and people who had been hurt, or almost killed by Eris and his men. There was no compassion in him, if it didn’t serve his political purpose.

I hope Eris keeps treating me like air. It would make this whole situation so much easier.

He could finally hate him as much as he deserved that.

As he thought that, he knew none of it was true.

The next day, they gathered at the war table. “Remember, we are allies now.” Rhysand said as he took a sit. They were waiting for Eris to arrive. “Try not to jump down each other’s throats.”

“Tell it to that redhead bastard instead.” Cassian muttered.

“I did. He told me he’ll be nice.”

Morrigan was tense but quiet, her anger simmered just beneath the surface. She knew she had to let go of the anger she harbored over the years, and her duties are more important than personal grievances. The diplomacy required for her not to lash out, but that didn’t mean she had to pretend to like him. Feyre squeezed her hand in quiet reassurance.

Azriel assumed his usual spot to the side. Silent, guarding.

The door opened, and Eris stepped in. He moved through the space like it was his own private stage. He was dressed in dark green and autumn golds, every detail deliberate. His red hair were nonchalantly pushed back, with a few strands out. Many golden earrings glinted in his ears.

“Good evening,” he said smoothly, voice like velvet. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.” His eyes swept the room, lingering briefly on each person. On each person equally.

Eris took his seat with casual confidence, and started polite conversation with Amren and Rhys. No snide comments or rude jokes. Cassian shot a look to his friends.

Some of Azriel’s shadow began meandering under the table to reach Eris’ legs, and they twined up his calves. Eris smiled down at them, but when he reached down, they turned into smoke and disappeared.

Azriel clenched his fists. Focus, damn it. He took a breath.

Eris took out his notebook. Azriel recognized it, he had seen it before. He liked watching him drawing curvy symbols with an elegant quill pen. Whenever they talked about the numbers or names, Eris recorded all the important things, and from the way he was turning the pages and finding all the right information, it seemed to contain all his knowledge. Dangerous thing to bring with you everywhere. But what difference does it make, if your High Lord can just enter your mind and play back the events, Azriel thought.

Rhysand came up to the part of the table where little painted soldiers were arranged across a map of Prythian, and asked more questions about Autumn’s forces. Azriel watched Eris carefully, trying to focus on the discussion. That was his job after all, to observe. To observe how he moves, each gesture like a dance. Stop it. Focus.

He looked at Mor to keep those thoughts away. Gods, she was beautiful. She looked so uncomfortable, having to watch het family treating Eris like an honor guest. If she knew how close him and Eris were… it broke his heart to even think about it. If she had known about the shared secrets and drunken kisses…

Kissing didn’t really count, Azriel decided. That’s just for fun. Hells, he even kissed Rhysand on a wine fueled trips to the cabin, and they never needed to talk about it or treat it seriously because it wasn’t serious — just fun. When you’re 500 years old you really try everything.

So kissing Eris was nothing wrong, just a thing to do on boring trips. Even if they were enemies. As long as they didn’t cross any lines, didn’t do anything more than kissing, and in Azriel’s mind they didn’t cross any line. And not for the lack of trying on Eris’ part.

Last time it came quite close to crossing the lines.

Then he remembered.

The things he said to Eris in anger last time they met, tens of years ago. Could it be the reason Eris ignores him now?

That ball in the Hewn City. Eris danced and flirted the whole night, charming all the influential women, and by the end of it he was drunk, barely standing. Rhysand asked Azriel to escort him to his guest chambers.

Eris leaned heavily on him as they walked.

“Did you watch me dance?”

“Yes, you dance beautifully. Now go to sleep.” Azriel said with a smile.

“Did you wish you could dance with me, Shadowsinger?” Eris mumbled with a teasing smile, leaning on him even more.

Azriel laughed, “Shut up, you drunk fool.” He put him up on his feet. “Here’s your room. Goodnight.”

“Wait. You have to help me,” Eris said, stumbling to the room.

“What do you need?” Azriel sighed and went in too.

His shadows closed the door behind him.

“I can’t sleep like this. Boots, jacket. I’m too drunk to undress myself. Help me.” Eris said while sitting on the bed.

“I know you’re not that drunk. I saw you talking to Rhys normally.”

Eris lifted one leg up with a smile.

Azriel sighed but knelt, pulling off one boot, setting it down gently, then Eris lifted the other leg, and Azriel took care of the other boot.

“Help me with my jacket.”

“You can manage your jacket.”

“Is that how you treat your guests?”

Azriel stepped closer but Eris slid further onto the bed, out of his reach. Azriel hesitated, but knelt on the bed next to Eris, and took off his jacket. He put it down neatly on the chair.

“Now the shirt. I can’t undo the cuffs.” He reached one wrist toward kneeling Azriel, and he obliged, unbuttoned one cuff, then the other.

“Now help me untie the neck.” said Eris with a soft smile, now seeming way less drunk. He leaned back on the bed, propped on elbows. Azriel slowly loosened the ties at his collar, and then he lowered his gaze to the waistband. He grabbed the shirt and slipped his scarred hands underneath it, and pulled it up, not by tugging the fabric, but by moving his hands slowly up his body. Eris sat straight and raised his hands, letting the shirt slide off.

They were sitting face to face now, both breathing heavy.

“Now my pants.”

Azriel pushed him gently back onto the bed, hovering above him. He undid the pants and slid them down. He noticed how hard Eris was. He paused and reached for the last threads of self control. He’s playing with me. AND he’s drunk. He looked at Eris and saw a familiar flush on his cheeks, and a need in his eyes.

It took all his strength to sit upright and clear his throat.

“I think you can take it from here,” he said and started to stand up, but Eris caught his arm. He didn’t say anything, just held Azriel in place, and leaned in. Before their lips could meet, Azriel pulled back.

“No. I don’t want this.”

Eris looked into his eyes, searching.

Azriel yanked his hand free. “Why do you always try this with me?”

“Why do you always resist?”

He looked at the almost naked male lying on the bed, desire rushed through him. But he forced the words out anyway, sharp and cold:

“I don’t want you. I never wanted you.”

Eris slid down on the bed, and some of the light in his eyes faded.

“Just leave me alone already.” Azriel hissed as he closed the door.

Gods. Those were the last words he said to him before the borders closed. And they haven’t spoken since. For more than fifty years.

Is it possible he still remembered it? Surely he knew he wasn’t serious…

Azriel’s heart began pounding, when he realized Eris didn’t even know about the existence of Velaris until just a few months ago. Azriel just disappeared for him. Did he think I was avoiding him? For fifty fucking years?

…

“Azriel?” Rhysand’s voice pulled him back. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“So? What do you think?”

Shit. I wasn’t listening.

All eyes were on him.

“Um. I’m not sure.” muttered Azriel.

Rhysand raised a brow.

Eris smiled.

“Is that fine with you or not?”

“Okay. Fine,” Azriel mumbled, hoping the response fit the conversation.

Rhysand rubbed his temples. “Let’s take a break, stretch our legs.”

As the people moved around and conversation turned to small talk, Azriel felt a gentle scratch of talons against his mental shields. He let Rhysand in.

“Are you ok Az? You seem distracted.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t trust him, right? You watched him all meeting.”

Azriel didn’t reply.

“Figure it out tomorrow,” Rhys said. “On your one on one meeting. You were listening to that part, weren’t you?”

“Of course,” Azriel said.

He wasn’t.

He wanted to go to the balcony and breathe some cool air, but he knew Eris would be there too. Not a good time to talk to anyone now. Azriel steadied his breathing and turned to logic. That, at least, he was good at. Of course Eris didn’t care, there had been times before when they hadn’t seen each other for tens of years. And Eris knew now that they couldn’t leave Velaris. No need to explain. Besides, Azriel didn’t care if Eris cares. Right. Focus. He wants to see me one on one. Azriel suppressed a smile that tugged on his lips.

Eris walked back to the room, his face didn’t betray any emotions.

Azriel watched Eris charming his friends. Amren discussed history with him, even Cassian didn’t seem to grit his teeth anymore. He had this infuriating confidence that made him feel as if he always belonged.

Something I definitely don't have, Azriel thought.

The mood softened, conversations were light. Azriel realized Mor is not with them anymore. He didn’t even notice when she left.

Eris moved toward the end of the table, where the map was drawn. He picked up a tiny soldier figurine and glanced at Azriel over his shoulder.

“Remember these, in the Dawn Court?”

“Ha!” Azriel’s face broke into an amused smile. “That was 400 years ago, how could I forget?”

“What?” Feyre asked, glancing between them.

Eris says innocently, “We snuck up to the map room when high lords were deliberating and had a little fun with the figurines.”

“As it turned out, fun means rearranging the pieces into… lewd positions” Azriel added with a smile.

“It was you two??” Rhysand groaned and threw his hands up.

They both laughed.

“So you two were friends?” Feyre asked, surprised.

Azriel gave a tight smile, looking at Eris. “I wouldn’t call it that much. But we weren’t enemies.”

“You wound me,” Eris replied with exaggerated offense. “You never turned down my wine offering.”

Cassian put his arms around Azriel. “Remember when you stole the best wine from the tray at Caerian’s wedding, and went to the tower balcony to get wasted?”

“We shared the wine with you, and you rat us out like that?” Azriel feigned outrage.

They laughed, and Azriel looked at Eris. The spark in his eyes told him that he remembers too — they were playing another little game in that balcony and almost got caught. But Cassian didn’t need to know that.

Rhysand huffed, and spoke to Feyre. “It was hard being a new High Lord, trying to look serious and in control, when these two idiots were always perched on some archway, commenting on everyone’s fashion choices. One time you almost fell off from laughing.”

Feyre laughed and bumped Rhysand's side, “Don’t tell me they roasted you.”

“My fashion sense is impeccable, darling.”

“Maybe so,” chimed Eris, “if you picked off all the lint.”

Cassian and Feyre laughed and Rhys took the little soldier out of Eris’ hand, and put it back in its place on the map.

After some more talks people started to drift away. Cassian made up an excuse, Amren and Feyre followed soon after. Rhys lingered a little longer, discussing Azriel’s latest findings with him and Eris. Then he too, left.

Eris didn’t move, he kept studying the map, like he wasn’t perfectly aware Azriel hadn’t moved either.

“You know,” he said casually, “we always end up alone in rooms, you and I.”

Azriel didn’t answer. But his shadows quickly moved toward the door and windows, checking for listeners.

“Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“I could feel your eyes on me all afternoon.”

“That’s my job. As a spy master.”

Eris huffed. “Right. I forgot. I’m your enemy, I’m not to be trusted.” He turned to look at Azriel.

Azriel’s face was serious. “You’ve done a lot to earn that.”

Eris paused for a moment. “I thought you knew that there are things I have to do to keep the appearances.”

Azriel stared out the window, his voice low. “And how am I supposed to tell what’s the game, and what’s your real face?”

Eris looked Azriel in the eyes, brows drawn. He didn’t say anything for a moment. He turned back to look at the map again. Without turning around, he asked softly,

“You really don’t think we were ever friends?”

The question startled Azriel. Did he really hurt his feelings earlier when he said that to Feyre? Could Eris actually mean it? He surely must know how much Azriel wanted his friendship all those years. Did he not realize how the silence had driven him mad? How hard it was not to lunge at him, demand his attention, demand… something?

Eris interrupted his train of thoughts. “So tell me, what were you doing in my forest the second the borders in Velaris were opened?”

Azriel startled.

“How… Why do you think I was there?”

“My hounds sniffed you.” Eris turned to him and crossed his arms.

Azriel could feel the heat riding to his face, but he calmed his reactions.

“I’m a spy… that’s what I do.”

“Oh, so Rhysand told you to check up on me?” Eris smirked.

“Yes, we needed to know Autumn’s movements.”

Eris nodded in a mocking way. “I think Rhysand wanted to know about the troops and the alliances. Not what I was doing in part of the forest that I go to to escape politics and people. The forest that I only told you about.”

Azriel thought for a moment and opened his mouth, but Eris cut him off. “You either missed me, or you’re not a very smart spy.”

Azriel snorted. “I didn’t miss you, I just needed to know where you were. You are Beron’s right hand after all.”

Eris looked at him with anger in his eyes. He waited a bit, let out a breath, and moved to the door.

“I know my way out.” Then he muttered under his breath “Fucking Illyrian.”

The shadows beat him to the door, they curled at it, blocking the exit. Eris stopped.

“I missed you.” Azriel said quietly.

Eris turned around, arms crossed. He looked at Azriel for a long second.

“You missed me?”

Azriel sighed. “Yes. I missed talking to you.”

Eris loosened up and walked a few steps towards him, saying nothing.

“No one laughs at my jokes like you.”

“Because you’re not funny.” Eris said with a hint of smile.

“You’re the one who’s usually in tears from laughing.” Azriel replied flatly.

“Because I’m funny. You’re the one who usually complains about his cheeks and stomach hurting from laughing. I guess those muscles are not included in the rigorous Illyrian training.”

“I knew you’d miss those muscles.” Azriel said and flexed.

Eris smiled and rolled his eyes. He started toying with the edge of the table. “Are you flirting with me, Shadowsinger?”

“I wouldn’t dare. Especially after you’ve been ignoring me so thoroughly.”

Eris smiled. He started to burn the edges of a flag with his fingers, leaving black marks.

“I thought you made it clear last time that I’m a nuisance to you.”

Azriel sighed quietly. “So you do remember that.”

Eris just looked at him and straightened.

Azriel started pacing around the room, trying to walk the discomfort he felt anytime he had to talk about feelings. He was glad it was wide enough for Illyrian wings not to knock anything off. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Eris lifted his brows. “Sorry for what, exactly?”

Azriel groaned. “For telling you to leave me alone. And stuff.”

“Sooo, you don’t want me to leave you alone now?” he said, enjoying Azriel’s fluster.

Azriel’s nervous pacing carried him closer to Eris. “You certainly know how to make things… interesting.”

Eris smiled.

“But it’s best if we don’t… do anything interesting. The situation is serious.”

“Of course.” Eris said.

He took a figurine and started walking the little soldier in the middle of the Autumn Court’s woods. “So did you like your field trip to my forest?”

Azriel took a few steps, and turned to the window. “Honestly? I loved it. Autumn’s forests are incredible. They remind me of the woods near my house in the mountains. But more colorful, and alive. And they too have that cool, fresh breeze, without this damn heat that’s in most courts.”

Eris’ lips curled, he looked pleased with that answer. “You know, you could also consider not wearing leather to the warm courts.” Eris returned to burning holes in the flag.

Azriel enjoyed watching him fidget like that. He was uncomfortable too. And didn’t even try to wear his confident, controlled mask.

Azriel took a step closer. “Stop destroying property of the Night Court.” he said in his best guard voice.

“Or what?” He turned to Azriel, amused. “Are we going to have a fistfight?”

Azriel smirked. “Please. I could crush you with one wing.” He extended one wing behind him for emphasis.

Eris’ brows lifted in interest. “Oh? Are they really that strong?”

“They have to lift two men into the sky. They’re strong.”

Eris tilted his head. “You think you could move me with just a wing?”

“Of course.”

Eris stepped closer and laid a palm against the outer side of the wing, and pushed it. The wing didn’t budge.

They looked at each other amused. Eris put both hands on the wing, leaned into it with his full body weight and pressed harder, Azriel extended the wing more and corrected his stance in response. Eris grunted slightly but the wing still didn’t move.

“Beautiful,” Eris murmured.

Azriel looked back at him. “What’s that?”

“They’re gorgeous,” Eris said, eyes drifting along the surface. “Like velvet. They look so soft and strong.”

Azriel fought a smile. His face didn’t change expression, but he nonchalantly spread his wings and unfurled them, presenting the inner side that is usually neatly tucked in.

“Can I touch them?” Eris asked softly.

Azriel gave a short, thoughtful hum. “Mhm. Sure.”

Eris stepped behind him again. “Open up.”

Azriel obeyed, wings spreading wide, arching up and apart. The room filled with their size.

Eris stepped in close and placed both hands at the tops, where the muscle was thickest. He traced his fingers along the edges, squeezing, prodding with firm touches. It felt so nice to be touched like that, and feel Eris' warm hands. He instinctively stretched his neck as firm hands were working the muscles in his wings.

Azriel let out a low chuckle.

“Ticklish?” Eris asked, voice low and amused.

“A little.”

Eris’ hands slid down, toward the delicate inner part of the wing.

Azriel tensed.

“You know,” he said, his voice even, “it’s not exactly customary to touch an Illyrian’s wings without permission.”

Eris’ voice dropped to a whisper. “I did ask permission. Didn’t I?”

Azriel didn’t answer, but he stood perfectly still.

Eris continued with slow, reverent strokes along the most sensitive part of the wing. His fingers traced the membranes with care, his breath warm on Azriel’s neck. Azriel’s heart began to pound, his breath was audible. Eris dragged his fingers lower, scratching the firmer parts delicately with his nails, then gliding the planes between them with an open hand. Shivers ran through Azriel's body, heat flooded to his face. His chest rose and fell fast. He looked back over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

Azriel’s voice was breathy. “I think you’re doing something interesting. We weren’t supposed to do anything interesting.”

Eris continued. “Tell me to stop and I will stop.” he said quietly.

Azriel said nothing.

Eris put his lips to Azriel’s neck, and whispered into it. “Where does it feel best?” He moved his hands around the wings, “At the bottom? Near the edges?”

“Close to the skin,” Azriel answered, breathless. “Close to the back”.

Eris slowly knelt down and started kissing the most inner parts of his wings, where it met the skin. He moved Azriel’s shirt slightly and traced those places with his tongue. Azriel lifted his head up and sighed. Eris continued to kiss upward, and Azriel was breathing heavier with each touch, his skin was as hot as fire. Eris reached his neck, kissing and gently nipping the spot below his ear, his hands were working the wings with broad pets. He looked over the taller male’s shoulder, down at the hard bulge in Azriel’s pants. He whispered in his ear “You better untie those pants, or you’ll make a mess.”

Azriel hesitated. He tried to find some self control, but he was too far gone. Eris moved to his other ear, still moving his hands along his wings. “Do it.”

Authoritative tone of Eris' voice made Azriel’s hands move before he could think twice. He untied his leathers enough to take his hard length into his fist.

“Stroke it.”

Azriel obeyed. Eris started tracing his tongue down his wings, and Azriel picked up the pace, his breath catching, hips rocking into his own hand.

“That’s it baby. I want to see you cum.”

It didn’t take long for Azriel to cover his hand with thick hot liquid with a low grunt. Eris rose up satisfied and pressed a hot kiss to Azriel’s neck, feeling the rise and fall of his back as Azriel tried to calm his breathing. Azriel waddled to the bathroom awkwardly to clean the mess. Realization what just happened hit him like a cold shower. When he returned, Eris was already gone.

Azriel pressed his forehead to the cold wall.

Cauldron boil me, what have I just done?

A mixture of pleasure and regret was so familiar to him at this point. He hadn’t felt like that in a long time. It felt weirdly comforting.

Gods, how can he resist when they will meet alone tomorrow?

How can he not resist, and look Mor and Rhys in the eyes.

His shadows curled around him, like restless cats that demanded attention. They brushed his legs and wrists, drifted towards the door.

Azriel closed his eyes. He didn’t need their whispers.

He already knew what they wanted.

The same thing he did.

Chapter Text

He couldn’t fly anymore.
His wings were scorched where they’d been touched. Raw, blistered, painful. Peeling off, burning.
Screams couldn’t squeeze through his throat.
He jolted awake.

Rhysand leaned against the table in his study as Azriel came in and closed the door behind him. The spymaster stood still, like a soldier awaiting orders. Rhysand casually slid his hands into his pockets.

“Eris requested to see the library. Nesta is showing him around now.”

Azriel nodded. “That’s very… trusting of you.”

“Only the top level, available to the public. The priestesses wouldn’t let him below anyway. And I trust Nesta not to reveal anything we know.” Rhys began pacing slowly. “I want him to feel like a true ally. It’s a diplomatic gesture.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy. He likes to read.” Azriel said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Rhysand looked at him, straightening. His gaze pinned Azriel down for a few seconds.

“You’ll be working closely with Eris in the coming weeks.”

“Yes, I gathered.”

“I need you focused.”

Azriel blinked. “You think I won’t be?”

“You missed half of what was being said in the meeting yesterday.” Rhys said flatly.

“It just looked like that. I was thinking.”

“About Eris?”

Azriel shifted, narrowing eyes at Rhysand, trying to understand what he was really saying.

“Why did you want to see me?”

Rhysand sighed and relaxed his stance. “Eris is good at manipulation. You saw how easy it is for him to get the emotional reaction that he wants. If he wants someone angry, he knows exactly where to strike. And now he’s friendly…”

“I know the games he plays.” Azriel cut in.

“He’s gotten better at them.”

Azriel frowned. “Speak plainly. Do you not trust me to do my job?”

“Of course I trust you.” Rhysand looked him in the eyes. “But we’re playing a dangerous game, and Eris is not someone we can afford to misread.”

Azriel didn’t answer. He knew Rhys was right — he had been distracted. He felt the familiar hot sting of guilt beneath his ribs, but tried not to show it.

Rhysand rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I thought Eris might try to divide us. We can’t let him do this.”

“No one’s going to divide us.” Azriel said firmly. “I’ve been a loyal spy to this court for centuries.”

Rhysand looked at him with a hint of surprise. “I’m not accusing you of anything, Az. I don’t doubt your loyalty. Or your skill.” He looked toward the window. Azriel was still standing stiffly in the center of the room.

“He trusts you, right?”

Azriel nodded slightly.

“I want you to dig deeper. Eris has a history of making himself look less dangerous than he is.”

“You think he has more loyalists than he told us yesterday?”

“Power.” Rhys said simply. “I’ve seen glimpses of his fire during combat that were too strong. And I can feel it… I can feel the power flowing from him, even though he tries to restrain it.”

Azriel said nothing, considering.

“He’s certain that he will be the next High Lord.” Rhys continued, “His brothers are powerful too, and they flaunt it every chance they get. They’re fighting to gain advantage, but Eris… the way he lives… what he gave up to assume his position as heir. He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t sure.”

Azriel nodded slowly. “We have fought against him a couple of times. I agree, it felt like he was holding back. Why do you think he does it?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to draw attention. Or he wants others to underestimate him, to underprepare.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to kill?” Azriel offered.

Rhysand smiled. “That’s what you want to believe?”

Azriel’s face stayed impassive. He said flatly, “Yes. That’s what I want to believe.”

Rhysand smiled and nodded. “Me too. That’s why we need to keep reminding ourselves that there are other possibilities.”

“You want me to find out the real extent of his powers?”

“If you can manage it.” Rhysand said with a teasing smile.

Azriel took a breath. He knew what he had to do. Not just observation. Manipulation. He exhaled.

“I’ll get you answers.”

This was, after all, what he was there to do. Azriel never thought he was a particularly good spy. Yes, he was quiet and invisible, always observing, his shadows helped him listen. That part, he liked. But a good spy knows how to talk to people, how to charm them, manipulate them, then trickle the secrets back to the ears that wanted to know. And this part, Azriel hated.

But that’s who he was, a spymaster to the Night Court. If not that, then what was left?

Azriel was nearing the entrance to the library when he spotted Cassian leaning against the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight.

“Beautiful day for a stroll, right?” Azriel teased, stopping beside him.

Cassian didn’t smile, gaze focused in the distance. “I’m here to rescue Nesta from that ginger snake.”

Azriel laughed. “Yes, I’m sure talking about books with someone who loves books is a pure torment.”

Cassian shot him a look. “They should have been done a while ago. I’m going in.” As Cassian pushed off the wall, they noticed Nesta and Eris walking out of the nearby bookstore.

Azriel leaned in to Cassian, “They look good together. Like a royal couple.”

Cassian turned to him. If looks could stab, Azriel would be dead now. He smiled wide. “Like a couple of siblings, of course!”

“Why are you so cheerful today?” Cassian growled. “Wipe that weird grimace off your face.”

“What grimace?”

He mocked a smile. “That one. It looks weird on you.”

Azriel snorted just as they approached.

“Well well, we have a bat committee over here.” Eris said by way of greeting. “I’m sorry Cassian, you probably wanted to grab a coffee, but I have work to do.” He turned to Nesta and kissed her hand gracefully. “It was a lovely date, Nesta Archeron.”

Nesta only shook her head disapprovingly, she smiled but her eyes were saying: you little shit. Cassian was red on the face, but Nesta took his arm, “Shall we go?”, and dragged him away.

Azriel smiled at Eris. “Shall we go?” Eris followed Azriel to an old building near the library.

They were walking side by side through the quiet hallway that led to one of the rarely used guest rooms, sometimes occupied by scholars that visited the city. As they moved down the narrow corridor, the backs of their hands brushed in a slow, deliberate touch.

“Did you have fun?” Azriel asked.

“You have an amazing library here,” his voice casually admiring. “Do you think I could take a look at the archives below?”

Azriel glanced over at him. “I’d have to ask Rhysand… but I doubt it. The library is run by priestesses, all of whom are survivors of trauma. It’s a place of healing as much as a place of knowledge. Only certain people are allowed in.”

Eris narrowed his eyes, surprised. “That’s a really good idea. I might steal it when I’m a High Lord.”

“You might start by stealing the books,” Azriel said dryly. “There’s plenty in the House of Wind. You could build a decent library. One crime at a time.”

“How much do you think I could get away with before Rhysand noticed?”

“He would notice immediately, because he has an amazing spymaster.” He smiled. “I think Nesta would notice first, she is the biggest reader of all of them.”

“I knew I liked her,” Eris said. “I should ask her to marry me, just to spite Cassian.”

Azriel grinned. “You’re nasty.”

They walked into the room at the far end of the building. A bit of a dusty space, unused for some time. A desk with some old books on it, a bed, and a washroom. Empty now. The perfect place for a conversation no one would overhear.

Eris put his bag on the chair. “I have something for you.” He took out a book.

Azriel blinked. “You didn’t steal it, did you?”

“I thought it’s impossible, with such a fine spymaster? I bought it.”

“Why?”

“For you.”

“Why?” Azriel hated how stiff it sounded, but the words already spilled out. Like an interrogation, he thought.

“To read?” Eris replied, exasperated. “You do know how to read, don’t you? It’s easy, just 26 letters…”

Azriel snatched the book out of his hands. “All right! Mother save me…”

“I read this series, I saw it and I thought you would like it. It’s about a boy whose father hates him. He has a tough life, but it makes him stronger.”

“Hmmm. Sounds familiar.”

“It has three tomes.”

“Does it end well?”

Eris smiled. “You’ll have to take a risk and find out.”

Azriel looked at the book. “Is this your manipulation tactic? Give me gifts to win me over?”

“Did it work?” Eris smiled like a cat and took a step closer. “Do you like me?”

Azriel groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

Eris looked over the room, then began pacing slowly. The shadows curled and rippled around his legs with every step. As he passed, his elbow brushed against Azriel’s wings. Azriel’s breath caught.

“Don’t play any games.” He said, voice low.

“I’m not. I haven’t been playing games in a long time.”

Azriel looked at him, trying to decide what he means. But Eris asked with a smirk, “Why are your shadows pulling me to you?”

Azriel whispered to them and they retreated to his shoulders like obedient dogs. “I don’t always control them.”

“It’s never your fault, is it? You never mean to find yourself alone with me. You don’t mean to stare at me. You just happened to pick a room with a bed where no one could possibly hear us…”

“Stop.” Azriel felt a sting of embarrassment. Was it all so obvious?

Eris stopped pacing. “Let’s just do what we both came here to do.”

Azriel’s throat tightened. The room suddenly felt smaller.

Eris inhaled deeply.

“So, three fingers scratching a collar bone means that I’m being watched. You should acknowledge that signal by doing the same.”

Azriel blinked a couple of times. Eris had already turned to his satchel and was flipping open his notebook.

“Let’s go through verbal codes.”

“You’re joking.”

“What? Is that not what we are here to do?”

Azriel just watched him in disbelief, as Eris casually flipped through his notebook.

Eris didn’t look up. “The air feels hot today. That’s for Beron’s people watching. Maybe we have a similar one for when your Night Court friends are watching, don’t you think?”

“Umm.” Azriel cleared his throat, trying to focus. “Right, so we don't talk about our private things when they listen.”

“Let’s think of something…” He looked at Azriel. “Are you not going to write it down? Will you remember it all?”

Azriel looked around for something to write. Eris took out a piece of paper from his notebook. Magic ensured he would never run out of pages. Azriel examined the ornate quill he’s seen so many times in Eris’ hands. He felt satisfied as if he was handed a new expensive toy he gets to play with.

“Let’s go over phrases my people would use in the conversation to let you know they’re from me.”

Azriel sat down on a chair next to Eris and started writing, but Eris snatched the paper out of his hands.

“Are you writing it down in the common tongue?” The paper burst into flames in his hands, ash crumbled to the floor. He glared at him. “How do you usually manage intel and orders in the Night Court? You don’t have a set of ciphers and codes?”

“We don’t need them. Rhys can talk to his generals and spies directly in their minds. Now Feyre can too. So no, we don’t really have complicated systems.”

“That’s… very convenient. And creepy.”

Eris paused for a moment. He pulled a gold earring from his ear, setting it on the desk with a soft clink.

“I doubt you will ever need it. But if someone from my inner circle needs to contact you, they will have a golden item of their own. They have magical engravings on them, when you put them together they should stick to each other like magnets. That’s how you will know this is someone from me.”

Azriel picked up the little hoop.

“Keep it safe. Maybe in Rhysand’s palace, or wherever he lives. Don’t let it get into the wrong hands.”

“Is all of your jewelry enchanted like that?”

Eris smiled. “You don’t need to know that.”

Azriel looked at the delicate engraving on the tiny earring. Is everything in Autumn so ornate? His siphons buzzed faintly, feeling the light magical pull from it.

Eris leaned back in his chair and observed Azriel. “It must be exhausting, living close to daemati.”

“I always need to keep my mental shields up, no matter where I am. I know all the sensitive information, and you never know if there are any daemati nearby.”

“I’m not talking about keeping up the shields. I’m talking about having to let him in. And trusting that he won’t take advantage of that.”

Azriel frowned. “It’s not comfortable, but I trust him. It’s not that bad, really.”

Eris placed a hand over his, and only then did Azriel realize his fists were clenched. He reflexively relaxed under Eris’s touch. But then slid his hand away and stood up. He didn’t need to be consoled.

Eris looked up at him. “Does Rhysand read your thoughts a lot?”

Azriel furrowed his brow. “Only when necessary.”

“Even your private memories?”

“My private memories are safe.”

“What if they include an enemy of your court?” Eris pressed.

“He only sees what I let him, and I don’t let him see my private moments. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Eris bit the inside of his cheek. “He can enter someone’s mind forcefully.”

“Yes, if someone doesn’t have a good shield.”

“So it’s fine if they don’t have a shield?” His voice was cold and sharp. “Is it fine to shatter someone’s mind just to prove you can? That’s pure cruelty.”  

Azriel was caught off guard by the bite in his voice. He shrugged. “War is cruel.”

“War is only as cruel as the people who wage it.”

That hit deeper than Azriel expected. He inhaled slowly. 

Eris looked him in the eyes. “I think you don’t know half the things your High Lord did under Amarantha’s reign.”

“Rhysand is a good man. He did what he had to, to protect us. And he suffered for it.”

Eris looked at him like he wanted to say something, jaw working, eyes burning. But he stayed silent. Azriel felt his own anger rising. “You don’t know Rhys like I do. He gave me a purpose when I had none.”

“He made you a torturer. A weapon.”

“For the good of our people. You don’t understand. I didn’t have any opportunities. I didn’t have anything. I was nothing before he made me something.”

Eris’ gaze turned to steel. He shook his head. He was taking deep, deliberately slow breaths. “I can’t even imagine letting my friends think like this. He treats you…”

Azriel stood up and slammed his hand on the table, hard enough that the glasses clinked, the earring jumped up, and dust rose from the books. Eris looked at him with wide eyes.

“Enough. Don’t speak about my brother like that.”

Eris cocked his head and took a steadying breath. Azriel sat back down at the opposite end of the table and exhaled.

“Your brother,” Eris muttered. He let his elbows drop to the table and rested his head on his hands. “Bleh. There’s nothing worse than family.” A faint smile followed as he peeked up at Azriel.

That earned him a small smile in return.

Eris put his hands down and slid across the table, almost reaching Azriel. His head rested on his bicep. “Should we continue? I’ll tell you the fake phrases I fed to Beron’s people, so you can know if someone’s snooping.”

Azriel smiled, looking at his casually extended hands, that looked almost like a peace offering. He touched the tip of Eris’ hand with one finger, accepting the silent truce.

“All right, I think I can still remember a few more things.”

The sun was already setting when they finished. Azriel walked around, stretching his neck.

“How do your people remember all this?”

“Practice.” Eris said flatly. “There are many more. I can exchange a full battle report by talking with my spymaster about the weather.”

Azriel looked at him curiously. “Should I meet your spymaster?”

“There is no need for that.” Eris clipped.

“Who is he?”

”I prefer to keep his identity secret.” He paused. “But I think you would like him. He’s my best friend.”

“I’m surprised you even have friends.” Azriel teased.

“I have a whole army loyal only to me, and a close circle of friends. I couldn’t do it alone. I would go mad if there wasn’t at least one person in the world who really knows me.”

Azriel studied him. That last sentence struck something inside him.

He didn’t know what possessed him to ask, but the words came anyway. “Do you have a lover in Autumn?”

A smile curved on Eris’ lips, but he said nothing. Something ugly stirred in Azriel’s insides.

“Are you jealous?” Eris asked, amused.

“I’m just irritated that you don’t want to share anything with me. We’re allies now.”

“Right, right — you’re asking about my love life as part of your spymaster duties.”

“I’m asking as a friend.”

“Ooh, we’re friends now? I give you one good wing massage and suddenly I’m promoted to friend?”

Azriel stepped in close, his face only inches from Eris’s. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Then why don’t you shut my mouth?”

They stared at each other, breath mingling.

Azriel turned and walked away, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Eris cocked his head. “Hmm. Maybe I should go. It's late.”

“Maybe you should.”

Eris took a few lazy steps toward the door. Azriel pressed his wings to the wall and squeezed his eyes shut.

Eris turned at the threshold. “Do you want me to go?”

Azriel was so irritated. He didn’t look at Eris. But he shook his head no.

“I can’t hear you.”

Azriel let his wings fall open and leaned the back of his head against the wall. He looked up, as if asking the stars to give him strength. He sighed. Finally, he said quietly, “Don’t go.”

Eris folded his arms. “You're always holding back with me.” He put one hand to his chin and started walking slowly. “I know you’re not shy. I’ve heard stories about you.”

“What stories?” Azriel’s head snapped to him.

Eris smiled. “We go to the same places, you know. I’ve heard stories about a brooding Illyrian.” His smile widened. “You don’t discriminate, do you?”

Azriel groaned.

“But now, you're quiet. Still. Wanting, but not moving.” He took a few steps closer. Azriel watched him. “Or will you deny again that you want me?“

Azriel didn't say anything.

Eris stepped in, close enough that their faces were almost touching. They looked deeply into each other's eyes.

“We shouldn’t.” Azriel whispered. He let his gaze drop to his lips. He leaned in for a kiss, but Eris pulled back. Azriel gritted his teeth in frustration, but heat flashed through him.

“We shouldn’t.” Eris echoed with a sly smile. He leaned in for a whisper of a kiss, and pulled back. Azriel’s heart pounded. He tried to lean in again, but Eris pressed a hand to his chest and eased him back against the wall. Azriel didn’t resist.

Then Eris’s hand slid lower, to Azriel’s pants.

“Unless you want to.” His fingers moved with slow, deliberate pressure. “Say it. Tell me you want this.”

Azriel put his hands on Eris’ waist and tried to pull him close, but Eris stood in place, pushing Azriel against the wall. “I want to hear it. I want to hear that you want me.”

Azriel looked in his eyes, his own already hazy with desire. “I want you, Eris.”

Their lips crashed together. It wasn’t gentle. Azriel grabbed Eris by the collars, dragging him in. Their tongues tangled. Their hands roamed like they couldn’t get enough, trying to grasp as much as they could. Azriel’s wings spread apart, he fumbled with the buttons of Eris’ trousers, but Eris caught his wrists and pushed him back.

“Take off your shirt.”

Azriel’s hands moved faster than he could think, unlacing the back parts of his shirt with urgency.

Eris moved to the wall and leaned slightly, watching. He let out a quiet, appreciative breath as the shirt hit the floor. His eyes moved over exposed skin, and his hands soon followed, moving across his broad chest. Azriel’s muscles flexed under Eris’ heavy gaze and possessive touch.

He dragged his fingers slowly down Azriel’s abdomen, stopping just at the edge of his pants. He leaned back to look him in the eyes.

“On your knees.”

Azriel hesitated only a little, then smoothly knelt down while looking him in the eyes, wings folding behind him. Eris unbuttoned his pants.

“Open your mouth for me.”

Azriel didn’t hesitate — he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, ready for the gift. He covered the whole length with his mouth and hands eagerly, he moved around it like he was starving. Licked and sucked like he wanted to learn every detail. He moved deeper, until he was gagging. No, Azriel was not shy. Eris pressed his hands on the wall and observed.

“That’s enough.” He gasped, scared that it might all be over too soon. He took Azriel by the chin and lifted his head up.

“Do you want to fuck me, Shadowsinger?”

“Gods, yes.”

Eris smiled at the man kneeling before him, fingers brushing his cheek. “You won't believe how many times I imagined you like this.“

Azriel leaned into the touch of his hand. “I need to have you.”

“Get naked and get on a bed.” Eris ordered, losing his own clothes too. He reached to his satchel for a vial of lube.

“You’re going to open me up,” he said, pressing the bottle into Azriel’s hand. “Nice and slow. Until I say you can stop.”

Azriel’s breath caught. He nodded.

Eris settled down on a bed, spreading his legs wide. Azriel didn’t open the bottle yet, instead, he dove between his legs, lips brushing against the inside of Eris’s thigh. He put his legs up, then leaned in and licked. Eris shivered. “Az, what? What are you doing?” he said, gasping.

“I want to taste you.”

“Well, I’m not stopping you.” He leaned back on the pillows and let Azriel’s strong hands spread him wider, exposing him. His tongue was exploring, licking slowly, gently. Eris was groaning above him now, hands gripping the sheets.

“Fuck, if you’re going to do that—” His voice caught on a gasp. “—you’re not allowed to ever say you don’t want me.”

Azriel didn’t answer, his tongue was busy licking, slow and steady, deeper and deeper, until Eris was moaning. He slid a slick finger and soon another, watched Eris’s face, and licked around, teasing his tongue up and down his shaft. Eris moved and turned around, face down in the pillows. Azriel continued with two fingers, he curved fingers down and watched Eris’ back muscles move and constrict when he hit that spot inside him. He pushed his fingers wider and wider, until Eris gripped the sheets.

“You’re going to fuck me now,” Eris growled. “You’re going to slide into me and make me come so hard I forget every reason I’ve ever had to hate this court.”

Azriel groaned and reached for the lube again. He slicked himself up, heart pounding. He positioned himself up the entrance and slowly pushed in, then stopped to let Eris set the pace. His hands dug deeper into the sheets and he started to slowly rocking his hips, then faster. “That’s it. Just like that.”

Azriel matched the tempo. His wings spread out, his mouth open with a silent moan.

“You feel so good Azriel.” The sound of his name shot a lightning up his spine, he was gone, his hips were bucking hard and skin was hitting the skin. Azriel could feel his climax building up, he started grunting louder and louder.

“Stop.”

Azriel stopped, a small moan of disappointment left his lips when Eris moved his hips away. He turned around to face Azriel.

“You’re not allowed to finish yet. I’m not done with you.”

Azriel felt chills all over his body. Eris moved his face close to his.

“You need to ask for permission to come. Do you understand?”

Azriel nodded his head, too far gone to speak.

“Lay down on your back.”

Azriel spread his wings against the pillows. Eris straddled him and reached for the lube. He sat down on Azriel’s cock slowly, leaning against his legs at the back.

“Now stay still.”

He rocked his hips gently, took Azriel’s hand and moved it between his legs. Azriel started to touch him, watching pleasure building up in Eris’s face.

“Stop, let go!” Eris whispered in a breathy voice, his face focused, he was so close too, all muscles tensed up in an attempt not to finish yet. They both wanted to draw it out, to never stop. After a few seconds he began bouncing his hips up and down. Azriel took in the view. This beautiful, strong and lean body moving on him, so pale compared to his darker skin. Eris’ face was pure pleasure, flushed and sweaty, his cock so pink, so hard and glistening. Eris moved his hips harder and faster, his length tossed from left to right. Azriel wanted this view burned into his memory forever.

Eris started bouncing even harder, in a more deliberate way. He broke into moans and drops of white liquid fell on Azriel’s stomach — a half orgasm reached with no hands. As Eris was finishing, Azriel whimpered,

“Gods, Eris, I’m going to come.”

Eris stopped moving, leaned in, and placed a hand on Azriel’s neck. “You’re not going to come without my permission.” He moved his fingers to brush Azriel’s lips, and he opened them up and sucked his fingers.

“Do you want me in your mouth while I ride you?”

Azriel nodded eagerly. “You can do whatever you want to me, Eris.” Azriel moaned, “I lost, I’m gone.”

Eris smiled. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes. This is what I always wanted. I never wanted anything else.” Azriel’s voice was strained, desire squeezed his throat.

“You will never want anything else.” Eris whispered.

“Use me, tear me apart, then burn me to ashes.”

Eris smiled, “You’re insane Azriel, have I told you that before?”

Before he could answer, Eris crashed his mouth to his, and they kissed deeply while Eris started moving again.

“Can I come?” Azriel whined underneath him.

“No, not yet.” Eris rasped. He hovered above, tip still inside, and started stroking himself with fast, practiced motions. His legs were shaking, his whole body was shaking with them. He didn’t move his body, just worked himself urgently as he chased the edge.

“Please Eris. Let me come.”

Eris looked down, eyes dark and glassy. “You can let go now. Finish with me.”

Azriel gripped Eris’s hips and thrust upward, slamming deep into him. His climax was building fast, his cock swelling — Eris felt it too. His own release struck like lightning, spilling in hot pulses across Azriel’s stomach and chest. Their moans turned almost into screams. Azriel bucked into him hard and fast, his cock throbbing inside. Even as it became too much, he kept thrusting, wanting Eris to finish to the last drop.

Eris was shaking, breathless and drenched in sweat.

They stilled and breathed heavily. When they finally parted, Eris hovered a bit, letting some of the Azriel’s release to drop down. He sat back down on Azriel and tried to take some deep breaths, steady the shaking. They looked at each other, both sweaty and flushed.

Eris smiled, then started giggling. Azriel couldn’t help but smile too.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing… it was intense.” Eris wiped away a tear.

“You’re crying now?” Azriel asked amused.

“Shut up.” He said laughing. “Look at the beautiful painting we’ve made.”

Azriel looked down at the mess on his stomach and chest.

“We’re such artists.” Azriel smiled, “It’s a landscape.”

Eris traced a lazy finger. “Here’s a river… and there’s a lake,” he said, pointing at his bellybutton.

Azriel chuckled. “Should we show Feyre?”

Eris laughed loudly. That beautiful laugh that Azriel liked to hunt for.

Their breathing slowed, the heat faded into warmth. They started to clean up, gathered clothes. Azriel couldn’t take his eyes off Eris — he looked so happy. Skin flushed, eyes glossy and dazed.

The regrets didn’t hit him yet. He didn’t even feel embarrassed by the things he had said and done. Azriel knew he could let go with Eris. And only with Eris.

“Come on,” Eris said. “I want some air.”

They stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked a small inner patio, now dark and empty. Azriel sat down on the floor, back to the railing, and watched him. He started to think this was one of his favorite things — just watching him. Eris did everything so beautifully, he could just sit and watch him smoke, like it’s the most mesmerizing show. The way he stood, the way his long fingers held the cigarette that glowed on its own with an almost pink hue.

Azriel’s shadows brushed around them, like a cat that rubs against the leg.

“You’re staring.”

“You look so relaxed.”

“It was really nice.” Eris exhaled smoke, slow and dreamy. “Was it nice for you too?”

“Are you kidding? I came so hard I thought you’d lift off.”

Eris burst out laughing. “You’re funny when you’re not so tense.”

“You just have a crude sense of humor.”

“Don’t tell anyone, I’m working really hard to keep up this illusion of an intellectual.”

“And inside you’re just an Illyrian brute.” Azriel teased, nudging his leg.

Eris feigned outrage. “You’re pushing it too far with the insults, baby. There are limits!”

Azriel huffed. “You know… no one else has ever called me ‘baby’”

“Do you mind it?” asked Eris.

“No, I think it’s funny. Given that I’m twice your size.”

“Excuse me!” said Eris, “You’re barely any taller!”

“I weigh twice as much.”

“Wings shouldn’t count to your weight.”

“Even without the wings…” Eris interrupted by putting a finger to his lips.

“Everyone would have overgrown muscles if they had to carry two huge… tents on their back all the time.” Azriel chuckled. Eris continued, “I don’t need it to wield fire.”

Azriel saw an in.

“You think you could beat me, if we really fought to death?”

Eris looked at him. “We’ve fought real battles before.”

“But no one died. I didn’t kill you, you didn’t kill me. Curious, don’t you think.”

Eris looked over the balcony. “Is that Rhysand asking, or you?”

“Me.”

He looked up at the stars that started to show in the dark sky. “I do have a lot of power,” he said calmly. “I think it’s growing over time. And I’m not even a High Lord yet.”

“You are sure you’re going to be one?”

“Yes.” Eris met his eyes. “I think even now, I’m as strong as Beron.” There was no arrogance in his voice. “I probably shouldn’t tell a spymaster that, but… I think the other High Lords can already sense it. Beron is weakening.”

“So Beron knows it too.”

“That’s why he’s focusing on his armies, and allying with Briallyn. And that’s why it’s so important to him that our court is traditional and orderly. He tries to build up his power in the eyes of other courts, compensating where he lacks in magic.”

Azriel leaned back on his palms. “So there will be changes if you take over.”

Eris looked at the stars.

“Lots of changes. I want a full reformation. I have so many things to do, you have no idea… I have a full binder worth of plans.”

“Of course you do.” Smiled Azriel.

“It will take years to achieve, and each year I don’t get to start feels like a wasted time.”

“Why don’t you try and kill Beron now? If he’s weak?”

“If I don't have the support of the court and my brothers, then my life as High Lord will be short. I can’t fight all of them alone, even with the power I get. That's why I need allies like the Night Court, and why I have to play Beron’s game. Before I can make changes I have to facilitate the power. Even after I get the crown, I would still have to convince generals to support me. I can’t rush it, or it’ll all fall apart. I don’t want a bloody revolution. I want something that lasts.”

Azriel looked up at him. Eris was looking at the horizon, thinking, with determination in his eyes. Calm and resolved, but Azriel knew that the weight of it sat heavy on his shoulders. All he wanted to do right now is lift some of this burden.

The stars weren’t listening to them, though.

Eris gathered his things and got ready to leave.

Azriel didn’t want this day to end. He expected to feel the regret that usually followed moments like this with Eris, but he didn’t feel it yet. He thought maybe, as long as Eris stays, he could stay in this blissful, calm happiness.

“I should go.”

Azriel didn’t know what to say. He looked at him, skin pale and smooth like marble, with amber eyes and ears full of enchanted gold. He reached out to touch his face, but a glimpse of his own scarred hand stopped him mid-movement. The contrast between Eris’s elegant beauty and his own rough, disfigured hands held him back. Eris took his hand, as if he could read his mind, and placed it on his face.

“I like how your hands feel on my skin.”

“Do you?” Azriel asked and stroked his face gently.

Eris pressed a kiss to his palm. He smirked, “I heard women like callused hands. Yours are extra textured.”

Azriel smiled, and cupped his face with his hands, before kissing him deeply.

When they said goodbye, Azriel felt light. Not just in body, but somewhere deeper inside him. His shadows danced lazily around him like smoke on a breeze, and he felt like he was floating, a soft warmth bloomed in his chest.

It was a strange feeling, one he had forgotten how to feel. He found himself smiling without realizing it, already thinking about the next time they’d talk. He was already planning to tell Eris the funny Cassian had said, to tell him how their lives looked now with the Archeron sisters. He wanted to hear more about Eris’s live in the times they didn’t talk, to dig deeper into the clever mind behind those sharp, smirking eyes.

The regret still didn’t come. He thought that things might, somehow, start to fall into place. Even if they had to meet in secret. He exhaled slowly. It felt good to breathe like that.

He started gathering his things. A book and an earring — two gifts from Eris. I should give him something too. The earring wasn’t really a gift for him, but that didn’t matter, it was his for now. He wanted to stay in this room longer, it still smelled like them. And gods, he couldn’t wait to see him again.

There was a gentle scratch of talons on his mental shields that brought him back to reality.

Ugh, I need to give a report. He focused his thoughts, shook off the dreamy state, and wiped the smile off his face. He let Rhys in.

He heard a stern, sharp voice, like a cold fury.

“What the hell, Azriel.”

“What? What happened?”

“Throw Eris out of your bed and get to my office. Now.”

Azriel’s world whirled. He looked around the room. “How..? What…”

“I tried to contact you earlier. Your mental shields WERE WIDE OPEN.”

Chapter Text

“Throw Eris out of your bed and get to my office. NOW.”

Azriel’s world spun.

What did Rhysand see?

…Gods.

He couldn’t even decide which part would be the worst.

Which words did he hear?

He covered his burning face with his hands.

After I just assured Eris our private moments will stay private…

Eris is going to kill me.

Will everyone know now? Would word reach Beron?

Shame twisted his insides. He let go too much. The restraint that he mastered over the centuries — gone.

Gods.

He took a steadying breath and entered Rhysand’s study.

“You really fucked up this time.” Rhysand’s voice was cold. “Sit down.”

Azriel sat. The room was still and silent, so silent that he could hear his own heartbeat. His shadows hid away. He was alone there, exposed.

Rhysand stood behind his desk, alternating between leaning on it and pacing.

“You didn’t report back. I tried to contact you. I reached your mind, and you didn’t even flinch. You didn’t even feel I was looking through your eyes.”’

“I…”

“Don’t.” Rhys’ voice cracked like a whip. “Don’t insult me with excuses.”

Azriel tensed.

“I could’ve ripped every secret out of you — our armies, the troves. The state of Feyre’s pregnancy. All of it. Exposed to any daemati.”

Azriel groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I could have scrambled your mind if I was closer.”

A long, horrible pause.

“How much did you see?” Azriel asked quietly.

“That’s what you’re worried about? How much did I see?” Rhysand shook his head. “I know you like to fuck around. But you were told — explicitly — to be careful. And you decided it’s a good idea to get tangled up with Eris Vanserra, of all people?"

He took a few steps, barely holding back his anger. “How long has this been going on?”

Azriel looked up. “This was the only time.”

“Bullshit.” He looked Azriel in the eyes. “It all makes sense now. Your behavior around him.”

“It was the first time. I swear.”

“Don’t lie to me, Azriel.”

“I’m not.”

Rhysand looked at him for a long moment, and flickers of rage turned into something heavier.

“I don’t know if I can trust you now.”

Azriel felt it sting like a needle in his heart. But he didn’t argue. It was fair.

Rhys exhaled, voice grim. “Let’s say I believe you. That this was the first time. Then we’ve got a different problem.” Azriel frowned. “He manipulated you. Maybe that was the plan. To make you drop your shields, and get into your head.”

“Eris is not a daemati.”

“How can you be sure?”

Azriel hesitated. Can he be? Could Eris really…? He wouldn’t do that to me.

Rhys ran a hand down his face. “Hiding that kind of power is exactly the sort of thing he would do.”

Azriel shook his head, trying to convince himself as much as Rhys. “He’s not a daemati. He would have used it in the past. We would have known by now. Someone would know.” 

“How sure are you?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Pretty sure.” Rhys gave a dry, humorless laugh. “That’s all you’ve got? Pretty sure that the entire intelligence structure hasn’t just been compromised, because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants?” Rhys started pacing again. “Even if he’s not daemati, doesn’t mean he didn’t plant someone. He had all afternoon near that library. He could set his people around the city. Ready for you to drop your guard.”

“He wouldn’t…”

“How do you know?” Rhys shouted. “Did he whisper that in your ear while you were inside him?”

Azriel flinched. A dull pain radiated under his heart, spread around his chest.

“I hope it was good, Az. I hope it was worth it. Worth potentially letting all our secrets out to Vanserras.”

He put his head in his hands. 

Rhys leaned with his arms crossed in silence. He lit the fire, and now he could just watch it burn. 

Eris wouldn’t betray me like that. We trust each other. Cold fear showered him. Unless… Unless it was always a strategy. What if he planned it for years. It was wise to get closer to the Night Court’s spymaster. What if every moment was carefully planted like a seed, in hopes it will bear fruits when needed. What if he has many such connections, in all the courts? Was that it? Am I this naive? All the times that Eris pressed to get closer, even if Azriel pulled back. It was all for this. How could he get played like that.

“Breathe.” Rhysand’s calm voice pulled him out of the spiral.

He had forgotten to breathe. His lungs were so squeezed the air barely got through.

Azriel pressed his elbows to the table, his hands dug into his face. He got lightheaded, each breath a struggle. He wanted to press his hands so hard into his eyes that he would fold in and disappear.

“Breathe, Az. We’ll deal with it.”

Azriel took a full breath and straightened. Rhys was right. He can’t undo it, but he could handle the fallout.

Maybe there will be no fallout. Maybe it was all just a mistake. Maybe no one would know.

“Will you tell the others?” He looked up at Rhys. 

Rhysan rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Please don’t tell Mor. Or Cassian.”

“Now you’re worried about their feelings?” Rhys bit out. He sighed. “I won’t tell anyone. If it was a one time thing, no one needs to know.”

Azriel exhaled.

“This can never happen again.” Rhys said calmly.

“I will never let my shields…”

“Not shields. You will never see Eris again.”

Azriel looked at him.

“You can’t seriously consider continuing this, Az. You don’t even know if we can trust him. And clearly you’re not the right person to decide that.”

Azriel looked away, jaw tight.

Rhys rubbed his temples. “Az, it is not the time for a fling.”

“But it was a good time for Cassian and Nesta?” Azriel shot back. “Was it the right time for you to chase Feyre, when she was engaged to Tamlin?”

“It’s different.” Rhysand said, his words sharp but calm. “Eris is not… the one.”

Azriel felt it like a slap, rage bloomed inside him. He hated Rhys at that moment. Hated him for having what Azriel would never be given. Hated him for saying that, so casually.

But it didn’t make it any less true. He gritted his teeth.

“I need to know,” Rhys said, voice steady now, colder. “Is this going to be a problem?”

Azriel clenched his fists. “No. It won’t happen again.”

Rhys studied him. “Will you think the same when you see him? Be honest with me. And with yourself.”

Azriel didn’t answer right away. He knew he couldn’t resist. He was never able to resist Eris. His only weakness.

Rhysand looked out the window. “Cassian will handle Eris from now on.”

“Cassian?” Azriel snapped. “He’s not trained for this.”

“Then he will learn.”

“You’re demoting me?”

“No.” Rhysand sighed. “You are still my spymaster. I need you elsewhere anyway, to keep an eye on Briallyn. Cassian will take over getting reports from Eris.”

Azriel seethed. The thought of not seeing Eris again made something in him twist painfully. That pain proves that it’s a good decision , he thought bitterly.

Azriel’s shadows slithered back, hissing in his ear, swarming him like angry insects. “You were listening in, you little cowards?” Azriel whispered to them. “Don’t punish me, it’s not my call.” They calmed down and rested on his shoulders.

He looked at Rhysand and nodded. “What will you tell Cassian?”

“I’ll tell him he needs to learn to play courtier. And that you’re busy.”

“He will know it’s bullshit.”

“Then make yourself busy.” Rhysand bit out. He started pacing with his arms crossed. “Did you even learn anything useful from him?”

Azriel nodded and told Rhys everything, coded phrases, battle plans, organizational details.

“Is that all?”

Azriel hesitated. He put his hand to his pocket, rubbed the little earring with his fingers.

“I hope it was worth it,” mumbled Rhys.

Azriel’s temper flared. He wanted to slam the table. His High Lord was really testing his restraint today.

He chose to forget to give the earring to him.

No amount of flying would calm him. He always thought that feelings are like cracks in a dam — you let one through, and the leak spreads, until the force is too strong and all the walls break. He allowed himself to feel too much, all the emotions, one after the other, in a span of a couple of days. He was tired, so damn tired.

He knew if it kept going he would completely fall apart. Just like the last time.

He didn’t have time to fall apart now.

The thought of not seeing Eris anymore hurt. From Eris’ perspective, Azriel would just disappear — again. Replaced by Cassian without an explanation.

I have to meet with him, to tell him in person. And to make sure he didn’t distract me on purpose.

The idea of telling him that Rhys saw them was painful, he knew how much Eris valued his privacy. Maybe I don’t need to tell him, Rhys is not going to tell anyone. And if he didn’t plan it… maybe it’s better he doesn’t know how easily I fall apart.

He set up a meeting.

Eris was already waiting for him in the Spring Court meadow, standing beneath a flowering tree. He leaned casually, one boot crossed over the other, holding something in his hands. When he saw Azriel, his face lit up with a genuine, bright smile.

Shit.

They stepped toward each other, but Eris caught Azriel’s grim expression. His smile slowly dropped.

“What’s wrong?”

Azriel watched him. Watched for any signs of deception.

Eris looked concerned. “What is it?”

“I…” Azriel looked around, as if the right words might be written on the grass. “The thing that happened between us… it can’t happen again.”

Eris’ face changed from concerned, to surprised. Then it gave way to disappointment. “Oh.”

Azriel stood still, tense. He let him have a moment to process it. Watched his reaction.

“Why?”

“I have to stay focused. I’m too distracted.”

“I see.” He rubbed his forehead. “So we’re back to this.”

“To what?”

“To you, regretting everything the day after.” Eris gave him a sad smile. “I don’t know why I thought it would be different this time.”

Azriel sighed. “With everything that’s happening... there’s so much on the line. I can’t...”

“My life is on the line, Azriel.” The anger sparked in Eris’s eyes. “This alliance, the future of my court. I’m risking much more than you. But it’s you who needs to focus.”

Azriel looked at him with concern. “I can’t think when I’m around you.”

Eris let out a long breath and started pacing.

If he really planted daemati and distracted me on purpose, he’s a damn good actor, Azriel thought. Eris leaned back against the tree, sighing in irritation, arms crossed.

“Tsk. I was so happy to see you today.”

Azriel felt that like a blade in his heart. He could imagine. “I’m sorry…”

“I even brought you the second book,” Eris muttered, still not looking at him. Azriel noticed it then, a worn novel in his hands.

“I’d love to read it… if you still allow me to have it.”

Eris met his eyes, hurt and anger sparkled in them. He tossed the book at Azriel’s feet.

“It’s yours. Is that all you came to say, or do you have some other vital update for me?”

“I will have to go away for a while.”

Eris looked at him.

“Cassian will contact you from now on.”

Eris’ eyes widened for a second, something flashed in them. But then his face was unreadable. There was nothing in his eyes.

“I see.” He said coldly.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s all?”

Azriel nodded.

“Then fuck off.” Eris winnowed away before any emotions could reach his face.

Gone.

Azriel didn’t move for a moment. Birds chirped and the grass moved softly in the wind. He bent down, picked up the book carefully, brushed off a bit of grass from the cover. He held it to his face. This one smelled faintly like Autumn.

This meeting was more calm than he thought. He wasn’t sure what he expected. An angry outburst? A cruel laugh, a mockery? Yes, this was more like Eris — a flippant dismissal: It was just one fuck, Azriel. I do that with all my allies. He had braced for belittling, for venom. He deserved it.

Somehow this hurt him more.

Nothing in Eris’ behavior suggested he knew about his shields being down. At least he knew he was right to trust him.

Guilt crept on him, twisted in his gut like vines. He thought that no matter what he did, it always found him. Being with Eris, breaking it off, there was no way out of guilt. There is no escape from that feeling. The worst of feelings.

He rubbed his eyes.

Yes, it was better this way. No need to be angry. It was a good choice, he needed clarity. Distance. Discipline.

He stood there in the perfect sunshine of Spring, surrounded by birdsong and flowers, and all he wanted now was strong winds and cold rain to lash him.

He whispered a command to his shadows, and let them pull him to Illyria.

Days went by. He kept busy. 

He was away from the Night Court for long stretches of time, flying solo reconnaissance missions, tracking Briallyn’s movement across the continent.

Cassian had taken over some information exchanges, but it was going poorly. Azriel was no courtier either, but at least he knew when to shut up. And knew how to keep cool — unless he was with Eris. Cassian couldn’t winnow, so usually Mor or Azriel helped him, but Az made a point not to take him to meetings with Eris, to avoid any temptation.

And Eris was giving Cassian a really hard time.

“He’s being a total ass,” Cassian muttered, venting to his friends. “He was almost polite the first time he came here, remember? There was even a time I thought we could get along, putting aside him hitting on Nesta.” She smiled. “But now? Completely insufferable.”

Azriel swallowed hard. He knew Eris was making it hard on purpose. He was punishing Cassian for not being… him.

“I swear to the Mother,” Cassian continued, gesturing with his glass of wine, “if that rusty cockroach smirks at me one more time like I’m some half-trained dog, I will throw him out a window.”

“Don’t let him get to you. He just likes to see you worked up.” Nesta said.

Cassian turned to Rhys. “Can’t you send Az back in my place? Eris is more tolerable around him, for some reason.”

Feyre smiled. “You should try being more brooding. Or bring more weapons next time.”

Rhys gave a knowing glance at Azriel, but he kept his eyes on his drink.

Cassian only warmed up, and continued wine-fueled ranting. “I mean, what does he even know about actual hardship? He’s lived in a palace his entire life.” Azriel shot him a look. Cassian didn’t notice, and mumbled into his glass, “Surrounded by servants and books. If you put him in an Illyrian war camp, he’d cry before breakfast.”

“Shut up.” Azriel said sharply.

Cassian blinked. “What?”

“I said shut up.” Azriel looked up, his voice cold. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Cassian straightened. “Az, come on. You can’t tell me he doesn’t have a soft life compared to us."

“Because he doesn’t wear all his hardships on his sleeve like we do?”

Cassian’s brows furrowed.

“You don’t know what his father does to him.” Azriel continued. “To all his sons. How their lives look. You know what happened to Lucien’s lover?”

They all looked at each other. They know the story. Azriel looked at Cassian, then at Rhys, weighing whether to say more.

“I’ve seen the scars that he has. That’s the way Beron… asks for information. Often.”

“He tortures his own sons?” Feyre asked. “So much that there are scars?”

Rhys chimed in, there was no surprise in his voice. “Beron poisons his victims with faebane, to impede the healing.”

“He uses faebane on his own people?” Feyre asked.

Azriel looked at Cassian. “In some sense we’re lucky, we escaped our abuse when we were children.”

Cassian looked at him carefully. “How do you know all this?”

“He told me about his scars, when I told him about mine.” He looked at his hands.

Cassian considered. “I thought you didn’t like telling people about your scars.”

Azriel shrugged. “I had told you all about them.”

“Yes, but we’re… close.” Cassian smiled.

Azriel smiled back.

“Damn.” Cassian murmured, then poured another drink. “He’s still a prick, though.”

Weeks had passed since he last saw Eris, and the more he tried to tell himself it’s for the best, the harder it got to keep him out of his head.

When Azriel stayed in the Night Court, he helped Cassian train with the Valkyries and visited Windhaven war camp. He dealt with his feelings the best way he knew how — by training until the muscles gave out. By flying until the scars on his wing burned harder than his heart.

But at night, he kept dreaming of Eris.

Some dreams were nice. Dreams about his body, his smile, his eyes. Other nights were cruel, Eris slashing and carving something out of Azriel like he was searching for a heart that wasn’t there. Violent dreams were nothing new to Azriel, but still, those dreams with Eris felt good too. That disturbed him even more. I can’t believe it, one night with him and I just can’t shake him.

In the evenings he read the book that Eris gave him, and it moved him — the contents, and the gesture itself. It was such a thoughtful gift. Not a tool, or a weapon. He wasn’t used to personal gifts like that. The last time he got a gift that wasn’t intended to make him more useful or deadly, it was Elain. She gave him a headache powder, and it warmed his heart the same way.

She saw me.

He blinked, caught off guard by the sudden image of her in his mind — soft curls, a shy smile. So quiet, so kind. The opposite of Eris, he thought. He told Eris about her, how innocent and sweet she is. How protective he felt about her. She’s so young, he thought now. Twenty years is enough to finish a building project. Barely enough to live. To even know who you are.

He had lived her lifetime more than twenty times over. How could she really know him, or ever understand him? Suddenly his crush on her seemed silly. Am I falling for every person that sees me? Pathetic.

And Eris?

Did he understand him?

The thought made him sit back, close the book. He smelled it. All the Autumn scent was gone by now. It just smelled like any old book.

Rhysand observed him like a hawk. Azriel tried to act like nothing was wrong, but those damn violet eyes were fixated on him. He knew Rhys is making sure there are no slip ups, but there was concern in them too, beneath the scrutiny. Cassian noticed something too, but he couldn’t figure out what was wrong. He came to the only conclusion that made sense to him — his brother needed to get laid.

Azriel thought it was a damn good idea.

They went out, they drank until they danced, and they danced until Az found himself on the back with a beautiful fae. He tried, he really did. But it felt so wrong. Normally he loved women like her, but there was something missing — no tension in her muscles, no challenge in her touch. She didn’t pull at him, didn’t push back. He made an excuse and left the bar.

Cassian and Nesta were nowhere to be found, thank the gods. He went to Rita’s — this place was frequented by a different kind of crowd. That’s what he needed today.

The walls pulsed with music, bodies moved like waves, wild, unbothered. That’s what he wanted. To be unbothered.

A handsome, golden skinned fairy caught his eye immediately. He was leaning on the bar, looking at Azriel with a curious smirk. Their eyes locked.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Azriel asked.

He inspected Azriel with a long glance up and down his body and smiled.

“Sure.“

Azriel put a hand on his leg and moved his face closer.

“Can we pretend I already bought you a drink?”

The man smiled wider. He took Azriel’s hand and pulled him to the back.

They made it to the side corridor. Dimly lit and empty, quiet except for the thrum of music through the walls. Azriel shoved him gently against the stone, mouths colliding. The man leaned into the kiss, hands sliding up Azriel’s shirt, tracing his broad chest. Azriel kissed his jaw and traced his tongue on the piercings in his face, his hands roamed, moving fast, faster than any doubt could catch up.

Azriel’s shadows appeared from beneath his wings, curiously climbing the man’s leg.

He flinched. “What the hell!”

The shadows snapped at him like silent snakes.

Azriel whispered to them, “Stand back! You don’t get to have preferences.”

“What is that? What are you?”

“They’re just shadows, I will try to calm them. They were just curious.”

They rested on him, but stray tendrils still snapped around the man, not hurting him, just marking a bite. He shoved Azriel away. “By the Gods. Don’t come anywhere near me.” He hurried towards the bar, muttering a curse.

Azriel’s shadows pooled on the floor like mist. Like nothing happened. Azriel sighed and leaned on the wall.

He wasn’t even angry. He just wanted to go home.

“Soo, did you have fun last night?” Cassian bumped shoulders with him the next day.

“Yes, it was fun. Exactly what I needed.” Smiled Azriel.

“That’s interesting… since Nesta said she saw that girl you talked with shortly after we left. And she didn’t look like she was just in heaven with a bat-winged angel.”

Azriel looked at Cassian and raised a brow. “Maybe I’m out of practice?”

Cassian narrowed his eyes, but decided not to press any further.

“Maybe we should stick to sparring and training to cheer you up,” he muttered.

Azriel lost himself in work and training. He enjoyed helping with Valkyrie workouts when he had the time, it was a good opportunity to talk to Emerie and Gwyn. He felt like it kept him grounded. They didn’t ask prodding questions or look at his sadness too closely, and he appreciated that. Emerie kept inviting him to visit her shop next time he’s in Windhaven. She was surprised when one day he stopped by.

“Do you have any jewelry here?”

“I have some things. What are you looking for, exactly?”

“I need a gold chain for a necklace.”

Emerie reached down and placed a delicate chain on the counter. Azriel took it in his hands. “It looks flimsy.”

“It’s gold.” She nodded. “Anyone could rip it.”

“I need something strong. Durable.”

“Hmm. I have titanium chains.” She presented a thick, sturdy chain, with big flat links, the color of dark silver.

“That’s not…” Azriel hesitated.

“It’s ugly, I know,” she smiled. “What do you need it for?”

Azriel took out a wooden box that he made. Opened it, then opened the pouch inside it, and withdrew a single earring.

Emerie leaned in. “What a beauty!” She lifted a magnifying lens. “That’s not regular gold. I think that’s arderaurum.”

“What?”

“Some people call it blaze gold. It’s a gold alloy, forged by fire wielders, in temperatures not available in normal forges. A chain made out of it would be perfect, it’s incredibly strong.”

“Yes, that would be perfect…“

“I don’t have anything like that here. Honestly, you'd probably only find it in Autumn. But if you're looking for something small and strong...” She started rummaging in her cupboards. “Here. I have chains of black titanium. Illyrian specialty.”

“I know about it. Forged under northern mountains and hardened in the glacier.” He took the chain in his hands. It was a small, twisted strand, with no visible chain links. So black that it didn’t even sparkle. Azriel liked the look of it, almost like a woven shadow.

He tested it, pulling hard. It didn’t break. He yanked harder, the metal bit into his skin, almost drawing blood.

Emerie nodded with approval. “It’s expensive, but strong. It’s not good with heat, but unless you’re going to apply fire to your skin, it will hold.” Azriel smiled to himself. 

“Good. I’ll take two.”

“Why do you need two?”

“If one breaks, I want another to hold.”

“It won’t break.” She laughed, giving him another chain.

He paid and stepped outside. He threaded both chains through the earring and fastened them around his neck. Then tucked it under his shirt, where no one could see it.

As he walked away, he touched the earring through his clothes, making sure it’s still there.

I should’ve bought three, he thought.

He found a good rhythm, and could successfully clean his head.

There were nights when he dreamt of blood, death and pain, about his own shadows twisting his neck and guilt burning him alive for all the deaths and pain that he caused. But there was no Eris in them.

Good. I’m healing.

The routine worked. Good old discipline.

“I’m leaving to meet Lucien in half an hour,” announced Cassian. “Are you free to winnow me?”

“Who will be there?”

“Him, Jurian and Vassa.”

“Ah, the Band of Exiles,” Azriel said with a smile. “I was curious about them. I’ll take you.”

The ruined estate that they used as their base looked desolate, still bearing the signs of war. Azriel wanted to know more about their plans and Lucien’s findings. He realized how much he missed those diplomatic missions. He asked Cassian if he could come along this time.

“You will still do all the talking. I just want to hear what they have to say.”

Cassian agreed, and they approached the door. They opened before they could knock. Lucien stood there, tense and guarded, his golden eye whirring. “I thought I sensed someone else arriving.”

“You just got here?”

“No,” Lucien said, “Eris is here.”

Azriel’s heart jolted. It was too late to turn back now. He looked at Cassian who only grunted as they stepped into the room.

Eris was seated by the fire, legs crossed, perfectly poised. He looked like he belonged on a throne, not in this battered manor. Azriel’s shadows pooled into the room like a mist on a cold floor, one tendril curling toward Eris to greet him, like a dog that's happy to greet a guest. Eris glanced at it before Azriel could tame his shadows back in place. His face gave nothing away.

Eris looked at Cassian and gave him an arrogant smile. Cassian’s fists curled and jaw tensed in response. Eris smiled wider, satisfied that he could rile him up so easily. “Cassian.” Still without looking at Azriel he added, “Shadowsinger.”

The tension in the room was sharp enough to cut, no one seemed to be comfortable with the current company. They were offered tea, and Cassian handled the talking, questioning Lucien about Spring Court politics. Azriel stayed quiet, watching, like they’d agreed. He was happy he didn’t have to do the talking today, it took a lot of focus to not look at Eris. Not that it mattered. Eris’ eyes went past him like he was invisible.

Azriel winced at Cassian’s poor attempts at diplomacy, which revealed more than it should. Eris noticed it too and didn’t hold back his snide remarks.

“What are you even doing here?” Cassian snapped, annoyed.

Eris looked at his cup, suddenly more serious. “Several dozen of my soldiers went missing.”

Azriel’s head snapped to him.

“Your soldiers are missing?” Their eyes finally met. “Where? How?”

“Vanished during a routine patrol. No bodies, no signs of a fight. Not even my hounds could track them.”

Azriel looked at Eris stunned. Eris nodded slightly — they were both thinking the same thing. Eris had told Azriel many times about his hounds — they are fast, tireless, and magically bred to follow any trail. If they couldn’t find the soldiers…

“What scents did they pick up?”

“Human. But strange. Twisted.”

His stomach turned. The timing, the disappearance, the odd magic in the air. It was all wrong. They held each other’s gaze, silently trying to say more than what was safe to speak aloud. Eris looked genuinely worried.

“Why didn’t you come to us sooner?” Azriel asked quietly.

Eris didn’t answer, but his expression changed. His gaze flicked to Azriel’s hand, clenched tight around his teacup. Azriel relaxed his hand, and realized he hadn’t said a word to anyone the whole meeting, and now he was talking with Eris like they were the only people in the room.

Cassian broke the lingering silence.

“We will help you find your soldiers.”

Eris nodded once in thanks. It was clear Cassian didn’t trust Eris, didn’t like him, and was probably thinking that the whole thing is some kind of setup.

The meeting went on, stilted and tense. Azriel risked a glance at Eris. Gods, he looks good. That golden embroidery on his jacket and slicked back hair. Those thinking, amber eyes. The way he spoke and smiled. Eris looked at him too. Azriel saw a flicker of flame in his eyes.

Azriel had to clutch the edge of his chair, he wanted to lounge at Eris and kiss him, right there, in front of everyone. The worst part was that Eris knew that too. He saw a faint blush on his cheeks. Mother help me.

He didn’t speak for the rest of the meeting. Cassian grew more and more agitated, and they had to leave before any real damage was done. Azriel hoped no one noticed how they looked at each other, or the stray shadow that kept sneaking back to curl around Eris’s boot.

He shouldn’t have talked to Eris. Shouldn’t have noticed the fire in his eyes when their gazes locked. But Azriel had seen it, and now couldn’t stop seeing it.

The news about his soldiers concerned him. The peace was crumbling around them, and he knew how much Eris cared about his people. It was not easy to find loyal men amongst Beron’s court.

But it wasn’t just that. There was no point denying it. Something cracked, and Eris was back in his system, a fever that wouldn’t break. The thoughts of him stayed, settled, and turned solid.

He needed to see him.

Just once. Just to talk to him in private, to see, to make sure he’s all right.

Just once more — and then he could forget.

Be cured again.

Chapter Text

Azriel emerged from the shadows beside Cassian. “You’re still playing courtier?”

“Cauldron boil me,” Cassian yelped, hand to chest. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry,” Azriel said, not sounding sorry. “You’re seeing Eris today right?”

“Yeah,” Cassian grumbled. “I’m meeting him today in the Spring Court. That perfumed bastard knows I have allergies.”

“I can go, if you don’t want to. I don’t have anything planned today.”

Cassian considered. “Rhys told me to go.”

“We don’t have to tell him. I’ll give you the report back and you can pass it to Rhys.”

Cassian threw up his hands. “Fine by me. Tell Eris to fuck off from me.”

“Will do.” Azriel smiled slightly.

“You’re a good friend Az.”

“Anything for you.” Azriel patted him on the back.

His shadows took him to the meeting spot Eris had chosen. It was beautiful, like everything in Spring Court — a grassy hill with a stone cliff, a great weeping willow that touched the stream with its leaves. The air was fresh and sweet.

“Are you bats so interchangeable, you just swap one for the other?” Eris’s voice came from behind him.

Azriel smiled. “I’m happy to see you too.”

Eris snorted. “Come. I found a place where we could speak in private.”

No one’s here, he thought, but followed Eris, looking around at the vast, empty meadows. “I always wanted to hike Verdant Mountains, maybe I can now, with the Spring unguarded.”

“I didn’t think Illyrians hiked. I thought you fly everywhere.”

“Most Illyrians do. But hiking really helped me in a bad time. I learned to love it.”

A corner of Eris’ mouth lifted.

He stepped across the water and through the willow’s curtain. Azriel followed into a hidden alcove, where the sound of the stream muffled the rest of the world. Eris glanced at Azriel,  who was taking in the view with awe.

“Maybe it’s good I didn’t have to waste this spot on Cassian,” Eris said quietly, leaning back against the ivy-covered wall.

Azriel looked at him and their eyes met for a heartbeat, then Eris began the report.

“Beron’s eye is drifting toward Spring. He thinks Tamlin’s guard is down, and clearly he’s not wrong. His forces are assembling, I spotted units moving closer to the Spring border.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened. “Close to the human lands.”

Eris nodded slowly in agreement. “There’s more.” His voice dropped lower. “My father has been speaking with someone, the messages arrive through Koschei’s channels. If they’re coordinating anything, it won’t stop with Spring. They’re testing the waters.”

“Any timeline?”

“Hard to say. I’m trying to get more information, but Beron keeps me away on purpose, and I don’t want to risk my people.”

Azriel folded his arms. “And your soldiers? Still missing?”

Eris’s expression dimmed slightly. “Still gone.” He let the silence settle for a moment before saying, “Beron doesn’t care about losing men, so he’s not making any effort to find them. But I do. They trusted me.”

Before Azriel could find the right words, Eris pushed off the wall, brushing dust from his sleeve. “That’s all I have. You can report it back to your High Lord.”

“Wait.”

Eris lifted one eyebrow.

“Stay a bit longer.” Azriel reached out for him, but Eris stepped away and started walking slowly towards the stream.

“I have more important things to focus on. Can’t be distracted.” Eris remarked, not breaking his stride.

Azriel recognized his own words from earlier. He caught up with him.

“Stop following me, Shadowsinger.”

“You want to be stopped. If you really wanted to go, you wouldn’t walk away, you would just winnow.” Azriel smiled and lunged to grab his hand before he could winnow out of spite.

Eris sighed, but he let his hand rest in Azriel’s. “What do you want from me?”

Azriel noticed a bracelet on Eris’ hand and lifted it to see better — a yellow-gold one, with a little pearl gleaming in the center.

“Who gave you that?”

Eris pulled his hand away. “Am I not allowed to buy my own jewelry?”

“It’s normal gold. Not like the things you usually wear.”

Eris lifted a brow. “I didn’t know you’re such an expert.” He pushed the sleeve down, but added, almost lazily, “You’re right. It was a gift.”

“From who?”

“It’s none of your business, is it?”

Azriel’s jaw clenched. His gaze burned into Eris like it could force the answer out. “Why is someone giving you gifts?”

Eris said nothing, only smiled. He leaned against the lush, green wall, clearly amused.

Azriel took a few steps and tried to gather himself, fighting for control. Eris' knowing smile made something dark twist in his chest. “Are you sleeping with someone else?”

“Else? I’m not sleeping with you.” Eris said calmly. “You made sure of that.”

Azriel stepped back to Eris, when a branch touched his hair, he yanked it off the tree.

“So temperamental.” Eris murmured with a smile. “Are you going to tackle me to the ground again? Really, a spymaster should be better at restraining his emotions.”

Azriel moved closer. “I’m not talking to you as a spymaster right now.”

“Oh?” Eris narrowed his eyes. “Then as who? Who are you to me, besides Rhysand’s dog?”

Azriel’s hands clenched into fists as he closed the distance between them. Eris braced himself for a fight, but Azriel only hovered his face near his, so close that he could see the flecks of gold in his amber eyes. The sight of him, of the faint blush creeping on his cheeks, replaced the heat of anger. Azriel lowered his head and kissed his neck. Eris froze, surprised, then relaxed his shoulders, tilting his head to give more space. Azriel trailed slow kisses down, pushing back the collar of Eris’ shirt to press his mouth against the skin beneath. Eris let out a barely audible breath.

Azriel looked at him. “Do you let all dogs do that to you?”

Eris opened his mouth to reply, but Azriel’s lips were already on his. Eris kissed him back, but when Azriel’s hands wrapped around his waist, he pulled back.

“That’s enough. You don’t get to just come back whenever it suits you.”

“Stop pretending you don’t want the same thing.”

“I wanted more.” Eris took a breath to steady his voice. “More of your political support. I’m risking everything with this alliance, and I thought maybe I’d see a friendly face here. Not Cassian, who thinks I’m like my father.”

Azriel sighed and leaned his head against the wall. “I wish I could see you. But I’m away most of the time.”

“You can’t spare a quarter hour every fortnight to see me?” Eris scoffed. “Rhys orders, and you obey. You didn’t even fight him for it, did you?”

Az said nothing, the guilt clawed at his chest.

“You forgot about me until you saw me in Jurien’s estate. But you dare question what I do in my private time.” Eris said with venom.

Azriel reached for him. “That’s not—”

He looked at the bracelet, and suddenly it clicked. The pearl, Summer Court’s hallmark. That made sense, it was no secret that the young, progressive Summer High Lord hated Beron.

“It’s from Tarquin, right? You have a deal with him too.”

Eris narrowed his eyes on Azriel, surprised. Then he looked almost impressed. “I guess there’s no harm in you knowing that.”

“If you didn’t want us to know, why wear this bracelet?”

“I’m meeting Summer emissaries after this. A show of appreciation.” He looked at Azriel. “I thought I’d be dealing with Cassian. He wouldn’t have noticed if I’d worn Tarquin’s crown.”

Azriel almost smiled. “I’ll be sure to instruct him to check your accessories.”

“So I won’t be seeing you again?” Eris asked, his voice calm and cold.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you more.”

Eris only nodded. “Good. I’m done chasing you.”

Azriel looked at him, pleading in his eyes, but Eris was looking away.

“I wanted to see you,” Azriel admitted, voice low.

“Doesn’t matter anyway. The most important thing for you is to fit in with your friends. They hate me, so you pretend you do too.”

“I’m not trying to fit in with anyone. I don’t need to.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“You’re pushing it.” Azriel felt his anger rising.

“Did I hit a nerve? Can you honestly tell me that Cassian’s and Rhysand’s relationship with each other isn’t stronger than with you?”

“You know nothing about it.” Azriel bit out. “Just because no one cares about you, doesn’t mean it’s the same for me.”

The silence stretched painfully.

Eris’s jaw flexed once. Then he straightened.

“All right. Send Cassian next time. He wastes less of my time.”

Then he winnowed away.

Fuck.

Yet Eris' words lingered. He had felt left out at times, out of sync with Cassian and Rhysand. He felt the need to be useful, to earn his place among them. If they ever saw the darker parts of him, the twisted thoughts, would they still want him? Those feelings were buried deep inside, but hearing them echoed by somebody else made them impossible to ignore.

Azriel stood there, burning with frustration and regret. Once again he was left alone in the Spring after a fight, and Spring’s soft flowers and calming beauty mocked him.

He came here to mend things, to apologize. Instead, he’d turned the knife again.

I hate Spring Court, Azriel decided.

He flew back to Velaris, but it did nothing to cool his temper.

I’d better give Cassian the report quickly, before Rhys finds out.

He stalked the corridors. Rhysand wasn’t in his study, and he couldn’t find Cassian anywhere. His shadows lightened like a mist, and he spotted Morrigan in her parlor.

“I’ve been looking for you!” She said brightly. “Where have you been?”

“Around. Did you see Cas or Rhys?”

“They went to dinner with their mates. Just the four of them.“ She gave him a playful smile, but he only felt his stomach drop. How natural that grouping seemed to everyone these days. And there is no way Rhysand didn’t know now that Aziel met with Eris instead of Cassian. Azriel grunted and decided to deal with it tomorrow.

“Did something happen? You don’t look too happy.”

Azriel rolled his shoulders. “I was just meeting with Eris.”

“Ugh, I understand now. Poor thing.” She squeezed his shoulder. His shadows disappeared, hiding into the corners as they usually did around her. He never liked that. They were not a burden — they were his companions, and their retreat always left him colder. It was hard not to notice Mor’s deliberate, yet soft touch as she brushed his arm. Years ago he might have thought it was flirtation. Now he knew better.

“Meeting with Eris aside. You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“I’m just tired.” He answered cautiously, wondering if she suspected anything between him and Eris. No, she wouldn’t ask if she knew. She wouldn’t talk to him at all.

Mor sighed. “Of course, what did I expect, asking you a personal question.” Her smile seemed genuine, which only made him feel even worse. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

His head lifted. “Goodbye? You’re leaving?”

“I will be gone for a while. Rhys asked me to go to the human lands, to try to reason with the queens.”

“You’re going alone?”

She shrugged. “Cassian offered to come, but I think it’s best if we avoided another diplomatic disaster.”

Azriel smiled.

“Honestly, with everything going on… with Eris around, and Keir threatening a visit… I think going away will be good for me.” She smiled at Azriel. “A little vacation.”

“I would hardly call human queens a vacation. But I understand.”

“I will miss you.” She said, “You all.”

“I will miss you too. Be careful out there.”

He waited for the ache that should come with losing her, she was one of his oldest friends after all. But he was surprised to feel a flicker of relief. She’d be gone, no risk of awkward questions, no chance of her stumbling across him and Eris. If she doesn’t know, it doesn’t hurt her.

“Be careful too,” she turned around at the door, “It’s more unstable here than out there.”

When she was gone, the room felt quiet. His shadows started to peek from beneath his wings, curling close. Reminding him that they’re the only constant presence in his life.

Sleep came in fragments that night, between memories of words he couldn't take back, and the approaching consequences. Azriel dreaded the morning meeting.

“Looks like you have a report to give.” Rhysand greeted him with a wide smile.

Azriel glanced at Cassian, who looked unbothered. He didn’t seem to understand the importance of not telling Rhys about their little switch.

Once Cassian left, Azriel sat down with Rhysand.

“So, you’ve met with Eris.” His tone was light and amused.

“We didn’t… We just talked. I just wanted to see if he’s all right.”

“And? Is he all right?”

“He wasn’t really happy to see me.” Azriel realized that wasn’t what Rhys was asking for. He shifted. “His soldiers are still missing. Beron is gathering forces around the Spring borders.”

He ran through the rest of the report, then mentioned the bracelet and Tarquin. When they discussed the next steps, Azriel waited for the reprimand, for shaming. But Rhysand didn’t seem to be angry.

Azriel straightened. “I want to be the one meeting with Eris from now on.”

Rhys arched a brow.

“It makes sense,” Azriel pressed. “I’m better at this. And I won’t slip up again.”

Rhysand smiled slightly. “You want to see him because you’re a better spy? Or because you care about him?”

“I —” he wanted to deny it, but stopped himself. He did care about Eris, and he was done pretending otherwise. “Does it matter?”

“It matters to me. I want to know what’s inside your head.”

“Maybe you should just go inside and see?” Azriel blurted out.

Rhysand paced around the room. “I wanted to apologize.”

Azriel blinked in surprise.

“I… might have been too harsh. I truly thought it was a distraction. I didn’t know there’s more to it. I should have noticed it long before.”

Azriel shook his head.

“Don’t deny it. I've been watching you these past weeks, Az. You've been miserable. And I realized I may have been protecting you from the wrong thing.”

Azriel didn’t answer, and Rhys continued, “I learned things about Eris. Enough to trust him more. Enough to want him welcomed here. So it makes sense for you to step in, he and Cassian don't really… click.”

“What did you learn? Does this have anything to do with sending Mor away?”

Rhysand looked at him surprised. He paused. “You can see Eris, as far as I’m concerned. Not that it ever stopped you anyway…” he added quietly. “I don’t want you to regret anything. Especially now, with all the risks.”

“Risks?”

“Everything’s going to change soon.” Rhys met his eyes, voice low. “In the next few months, Eris will either be a High Lord… or he’ll be dead.”

The words knocked the air from Azriel’s lungs.

“There’s really no other outcome.” Rhys said, turning to the window.

A wave of cold swept through Azriel. Of course he’d known how dangerous it all was, logically, he’d accepted it from the start. But somewhere deep down, he’d always assumed there would be time. That once the dust settled, once things were calmer, they could find their way back to each other. The sudden weight of reality crashed down on him, a faint edge of panic tightening in his chest. He was grateful Rhysand was still turned toward the window, not watching the way Azriel’s composure faltered.

“Of course we’ll do everything we can to make sure he lives.” Rhys added.

“Yes,” Azriel said quietly, but the steel in his voice left no room for doubt. “We will.”

Evening came, and Azriel couldn’t stop thinking. Dead. High Lord or dead.

And his last words to Eris: no one cares about you. It was unbearable.

His shadows urged him to move, restless, whispering things that only added fuel to the flames. He knew he had to see Eris. To tell him… something. Anything. That he cared, that he was sorry.

The shadows swallowed him. When he stepped out again, the air was cold and sharp. Autumn’s forests stretched around him, red and yellow leaves as far as he could see, darkness began to replace the warm hues of sunset. It was silent, all he could hear was the crunching of leaves beneath his boots.

The shadows scattered in all directions, looking for tracks, for clues where to go. He stilled and listened.

He heard rustling of leaves where tiny forest creatures scurried, birds moving in the trees, old branches creaking. In the distance, hounds barking. Could it be Eris?

Then distant branches snapped, a figure crashing through the undergrowth. Azriel stepped towards the sounds, as silent as possible. A soldier was running towards him. Azriel stepped into the light, to let him — no, her — see him. She hesitated, but moved closer.

She stopped in front of him. Azriel blinked in surprise — she looked so similar to Eris. The same elegant bone structure, the same aristocratic nose. Just her eyes were green instead of amber, and hair was dark blond, reaching her shoulders.

“You’re Azriel, right?” She said, catching her breath. “The Shadowsinger.”

“Who are you?” The question came out sharp.

“Are you looking for Eris? He’s not here. You shouldn’t be here either.”

“Where is he?”

“If he’s smart, nowhere near Autumn for at least three days.” Her eyes darted past him, scanning the trees. “Go. Before Beron’s hounds scent you. We’d both be in trouble.”

A distant baying sounded closer.

“Can I help you? I can take you out from here.”

She grabbed his arms, as if she wanted to shake him.

“Leave, fool.”

“How can I know you’re not keeping him away from me?” Azriel growled. Suddenly he felt a light pull from the earring beneath his shirt.

Her eyes widened. “Do you have the seal on you?”

“The… seal?” Azriel muttered, then quickly showed the earring.

She pressed her thumb ring against it. The pieces drew together with a hum of magic.

Her voice was sharp. “Now do you trust me? Then go. I can’t get us both out of this.”

Azriel hesitated, but let his shadows take him away.

Even as Velaris materialized around him, he couldn't shake the image of her eyes. Something in them, the way she spoke, made him think they’ve met before. But he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, place her anywhere in his memory.

Does Eris have a sister I don’t know about? Is it his mother? No, she has red hair like him… but she must be closely related. The resemblance…

He tried to sleep, but his shadows kept whispering.

Go find him

Follow her

Check the Autumn palace

Talk to his allies

Follow Beron

Find him

“Enough!” Azriel snapped, and the shadows skittered. “Eris is fine. There’s no reason to think he isn’t.” His voice rang in an empty room. “Snooping around his court would be foolish. He knows how to navigate these things. Better than most.” He sighed. “There’s no need to worry.”

He forced himself to believe it, as he let sleep drag him under.

Morning came too quickly. Azriel went through the motions of the day, feeling like the day before was just a dream. As he walked alongside Cassian toward the meeting with Rhysand, his shadows launched forward, like smoke in a draft.

That’s when he saw Eris, speaking privately with Rhys. They stood close to each other, talking like two High Lords in quiet, measured tones. Their conversation stopped as the group approached.

Azriel could barely contain his excitement. He had to press his lips together not to smile.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Cassian said dryly.

“You always know how to make a guest feel wanted.” Eris replied, not missing a beat.

He didn’t acknowledge Azriel. Still angry.

“Eris.” Azriel blurted. “Can I talk to you?”

Eris’s head tilted. He waved his hand. “Speak.”

“…In private?”

“I don’t think there’s anything private for us to discuss, Shadowsinger.” Eris said with a cold smile.

Azriel clenched his jaw, ignoring Rhysand’s amused interest.

“Stay with us for the meeting,” Rhysand offered. “We have plenty to discuss, it’s good that we are all here.”

Eris scanned the group. “Will Nesta join?”

“No, she’s not a part of our war meetings.” Rhysand smiled.

“Too bad. But I’ll stay anyway.”

Cassian groaned as he sat down.

Feyre and Amren joined them. Feyre’s gaze went straight to Eris, a flicker of concern on her face. “Are your men still missing?” she asked.

“Vanished, seemingly without a trace. What’s worse…” He paused, the smooth facade cracking slightly. “My spymaster has gone missing as well.”

The air tightened, and conversations about their finding ensued. They all shared what they could, compared the fragments they managed to piece together. Azriel could tell that Eris didn’t want the tension to linger, he was making light jokes and charming the crowd with his usual ease. As they debated, Feyre glanced at the open notebook that Eris was writing in.

“What language is that? The letters are beautiful.”

“Thank you, it’s a code I designed myself.” Eris said with a warm smile.

Amren looked across the table to his notebook. “Isn’t that Ishtani?”

Eris’ eyes widened. “Yes! I took inspiration from its alphabet.”

Others took a look too. The letters were curly and complex, symbols merged together, sentences going seemingly in all directions.

Amren scratched her chin. “You must be one of the few people in the world who speak Ishtani.”

“Well, I don’t actually speak it — I can read and write it, but no one really knows how it sounded.”

“I can speak it.” Amren looked at him with a daring smirk.

Eris sat upright. “You do?! Gods, I forgot how old you are!” His eyes were sparkling. “Can you teach me?”

Feyre was surprised. “Why would you want to learn a dead language?”

“I like to learn.”

Amren raised an eyebrow. Eris leaned onto the table to get closer to her and said with a conspiratorial smile “I have a book of poems in that language.”

Amren’s second eyebrow joined the first. “You must be mad if you’re about to ask me to read poetry to you, boy.”

Eris leaned even further, now almost lying on the table, hands stretched to reach Amren. He gave her the most charming smile. “Amren, will you read some poetry to me?”

Amren smiled and rolled her eyes. “Damn you. All right.”

Azriel chuckled. “Where did you even learn an ancient alphabet?”

Eris glanced at him, and leaned back in his chair. “I studied at the Lyceum of Oakhaven.”

“Figures you’d spend your time with books rather than do anything useful.” Cassian muttered.

“Yes, I was there for twenty-five years.” Eris was smiling softly, unbothered. “I wanted to be a scholar. I thought I could just leave the court behind, I really didn’t want anything to do with it.”

“So what made you change your mind?” Cassian asked.

Eris paused for a bit, thoughtful. “Some things aren’t a choice.” Then gave Cassian a smile. “I left because I would look horrible in one of those long beards that scholars usually wear.”

Cassian snorted.

Azriel looked at Eris’ beaming face when he was writing Amren’s address in those curly symbols. The unrestricted joy on Eris's face was a beautiful view, but part of him felt a sting that this smile wasn’t directed at him. He wanted to read poetry with Eris, too. And he hated poetry.

The meeting dragged on until exhaustion settled in. Cassian leaned back in his chair with a groan.

“Weren’t we supposed to get drinks today?”

Amren perked up. “I agree, we need some wine, and fast. Eris, maybe you’ll join us? You said you’re free.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.” He said politely.

“That’s a fine idea.” Rhysand said thoughtfully, “We are allies after all. We should be friends.” He said that looking at Cassian.

“We are friends all right.”

“Friends enough to endure a drink with me?” Eris mused.

“I’ve fought kelpies and Illyrians twice my size. I’ll survive dinner.” Cassian shot back.

“In that case, I suppose I can suffer your company over a glass of wine.”

Amren was already up from the table. “And no talking about politics or wars!”

Eris turned to Rhysand. “So, where do we winnow to?”

“You can’t. We have to fly.”

His smile disappeared. “So I need to be carried by one of you bats?”

“Seems so.”

He eyed Cassian with a smirk. “You seem strong.”

“Forget it.”

“What, not strong enough to lift me? The biggest muscles, and for nothing?”

“Excuse me!” Azriel chimed in, “I’m stronger. And have the biggest wing span.”

“You wish.” Cassian snorted. “Especially when you’re barely training since you’ve started moping around all sad.”

“I could beat you even if I stopped working out for a year.”

Eris interrupted with a sly smile. “Gentleman, please. Don’t fight over me.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I’m taking Nesta.”

“I’m taking Amren.” said Rhysand.

“And my wings won’t carry a man yet.” said Feyre.

Eris looked at Azriel. “Of course.” His smile dropped again. “But you’re not carrying me like a bride.”

“There’s another way,” Azriel said, unable to keep the spark from his voice. “I’ve had a harness made for someone who wanted to fly like an Illyrian. You’d mount in front of me, as if you were flying.”

Eris’ eyes lifted up, imagining. “That would be preferable.”

“Settled.” Rhysand said, standing up. “Let’s meet there in about half an hour.”

As the others dispersed, Azriel drifted closer to Eris. “Come with me.”

Eris followed in silence, until they entered a room.

“You keep flying harnesses in a study?”

“No.” Azriel said, closing the door behind them. “But we will have a chance to talk here.”

Eris pressed back against the wall, arms crossed. “I’m not talking to you.”

“Then just listen.” Azriel stepped closer. “I’m sorry.”

Eris didn’t move. Didn't look.

“I’m sorry for what I said last time. And for my absence.” He moved closer. “I care about you.”

Eris scoffed, but his stance relaxed. “Do you now?”

“I mean it. Rhys agreed to let me be your contact from now on. No more Cassian.”

Eris looked at him finally.

Azriel reached out, brushing his shoulder. “I care about you. I want your friendship.” He moved his hand, testing. “I missed you.”

Eris sighed, but didn’t pull back.

Azriel stepped even closer. “I was worried about you.”

Eris looked him in the eyes. “Like tides on the sea, you pull me, and you push me, over and over. For hundreds of years now.”

Azriel touched his face, and felt Eris leaning into his touch.

“You’re terrible for me.” Eris murmured.

“But you still want me?" When Eris didn’t deny, Azriel leaned in to whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

Eris looked deeply in his eyes, drinking his quiet yearning. He caught Azriel's wrist, holding it against his cheek with deliberate pressure. He glanced at his mouth, eyes heavy. Sadness lingered in Eris’ eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips.

“How can I resist you, when you’re so desperate for me?”

Azriel smiled before leaning for a kiss. Slowly at first, like a greeting, their lips melted together. Eris let go of his wrist, their hands rediscovered the shapes of each other's bodies. Softly, before it caught fire. Eris’ hands tangled in Azriel's hair to angle his head exactly where he wanted it. Their tongues and teeth clashed, hands moved under the clothes like it’s an unwelcome barrier.

“We’ve got half an hour?” Eris breathed.

“Yes, do you want me to keep apologizing all that time?” Azriel teased.

Eris lost his restraint, he shoved Azriel against the table and tugged at his leathers. Azriel helped, trying to keep their mouths together. By the time his pants slid to his thighs, he was breathless. Eris grabbed his ass, squeezing to the point of pain, his eyes sharp.

“Tell me,” Eris murmured, voice low, “Have you been with anyone else?”

The question made Azriel’s eyes spark with joy. He looked at Eris with a smile, as though he couldn’t believe he was asking.

Eris answered that smile with a sharp slap across his ass. Azriel’s breath hitched, a flash of pleasure sparked through the pain.

“You didn’t answer.” Eris said darkly.

Azriel only smiled faintly.

“You like that?” Eris asked, eyes glinting. “Hands on the table.”

Azriel obeyed, palms flattening against the wood of the desk, muscles strung tight. Eris’s hand landed again, Azriel bit his lips. Eris stepped closer, caressing his skin in slow, delicate movements. “Answer me. Did you fuck anyone since me?”

Azriel swallowed. “Why do you want to know?”

Another sharp crack filled the room, Azriel’s breath breaking into a silent laugh. His cock was hard against the table.

“Deflecting.” Eris murmured, running his hand over the reddened skin. “Is that what kept you so busy?”

Eris smacked him again, Azriel tried to swallow the groans.

“I tried but… but I couldn’t,” Azriel rasped. Eris stopped mid movement. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Eris hummed, satisfied. He lifted Azriel upright and guided him back, pants still at his ankles, and shoved him on an armchair. Eris took off his pants quickly, Azriel’s hand wrapped around his own cock, the other reaching for lube. Eris straddled him, slicking himself and lowered slowly.

Their mouths met again, Eris put his hands on Azriel’s face and neck as he began riding him. They tried to keep their tongues touching, but Eris was soon breathless, moaning quietly.

Azriel licked his neck, then pulled back, eyes dark. “Did you think about me too?”

Eris slowed, looked down at him.

“No.”

The corner of Azriel’s mouth lifted up. “Liar!”

He thrust up hard, making Eris gasp. Then he continued driving into him, rough and punishing. Eris lifted and held onto Azriel’s wings for balance, angling himself for more.

“Do you like that?” Azriel breathed.

“Yes.” Eris moaned. “Give it to me.”

He held Eris’ ass in place and pounded into him. Eris bit Azriel’s wing gently to muffle the sounds coming out of his mouth. Azriel licked the sweat off Eris’ neck, until their mouths met again. Eris pushed his tongue inside, hard and demanding, kept pushing it with every thrust.

“I want…” Azriel gasped, slowing.

“What do you want, baby?”

“I want your cock in my mouth…”

Eris smiled, breathing heavy. “I can give you that… if you say please.”

Azriel gritted his teeth, but a mischievous smile curled on his lips. “Fuck you!”

Eris grabbed his face and lifted it, digging his fingers hard into his skin.

“What did you say to me?”

Azriel met his gaze, as crazy with desire as his own.

“…Please.”

Eris loosened his grip and caressed his cheek softly.

“Please what? Tell me again.”

Azriel groaned, but then smiled and pressed his hands up Eris’ body, grabbing, demanding. “Please, fuck my face.”

Eris hummed, deeply pleased. He shifted, put his legs on the chair’s arms, and threaded his fingers through Azriel’s hair. Azriel’s hand moved down to stroke himself as Eris slid into his mouth. He kept Azriel’s head still with two hands, and moved in and out at a steady pace. Azriel half closed his eyes in pleasure, his hand moving fast below.

“Is that what you wanted?” Eris taunted. “You begged for it so sweetly.”

Azriel came with a muffled moan. Eris kept going until his own release came, he shuddered inside Azriel’s mouth, and Azriel didn’t let any drop go to waste.

Eris slumped down, their foreheads pressed together as their heavy breaths became slower and quieter.

Finally, Eris stood up. “Come on,” he started picking the clothes. “You don’t want to be late to dinner with your friends.”

Chapter Text

Azriel rested a hand on the small of Eris’ back as they walked down the corridor, drawing a sideways glance from him. He knew that soon they would both put masks of aloofness and be nothing more than reluctant allies for the whole night, even when he could still taste Eris at the back of his throat. It was reckless, but he held onto the moment anyway, even just for the short walk to the tack room.

As he rummaged through the shelves for a flying harness, he noticed Eris looking out the window with a distant expression.

“What’s wrong?” Azriel asked.

“Nothing.”

“You’re still angry with me?”

Eris smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and shook his head.

Azriel stepped closer, softening his tone. “I thought we had fun.”

“It was really fun.” He looked away. “I just wonder when you’ll turn on me. Now that you’ve had what you wanted.”

Azriel stilled. “I won’t.” He touched Eris’ face, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I meant everything I said. I’ve thought about you more than I should.”

Eris smiled and nodded. Azriel knew he was not convinced, but let it drop. He had earned his doubts.

“Will we get through this dinner?” Azriel teased.

“I’ll be nice. I will try not to set anything on fire out of anger. No promises though.”

They went to the launch platform, where others waited. Azriel joined his brothers, all three stretching their wings wide, preparing for flight.

“Show-offs.” Eris murmured to the girls, earning their smiles.

Nesta hopped into Cassian’s arms and he carried her effortlessly. Eris edged toward the cliff, peering at the vast drop to the forest below.

“Scared?” Azriel asked him.

“I’ve never flown before.” Eris admitted. “I wonder if it feels the way it does in dreams.”

“I couldn’t tell you. I dream of flying, but I’ve been flying since I was twelve. It’s like running to me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let me know when you start dreaming of burning lakes of fire.” Eris scoffed.

Azriel stepped behind Eris, their bodies flushed together. He took his time attaching the harness, and Eris didn’t complain.

“You sure this will hold me?” Eris murmured.

“I’ll hold you too.” Azriel put his arms around him in a tight hug as they stepped on the edge. “Ready?”

Eris gripped his forearms as they dropped. The wings caught wind with a roaring sound and they soared up. The sunset painted Velaris in pink glow, city lights beginning to twinkle like stars. Eris’ eyes lit with wonder.

“So, is it like in your dreams?”

Eris didn’t answer, only laughed as the wind roared around them. Azriel didn’t take the shortest route, instead he made a wide arc so Eris could see the city from different angles. But also to make that moment last longer — their bodies pressed together, Eris’ joy unguarded. Azriel could feel his heartbeat, fast and exhilarated, where he held him close.

When they landed, Eris quickly dismounted, straightened his jacket, ran a hand through his hair, and put on a face of cool composure.

Cassian noticed Azriel’s smile before he could hide it.

“You love to take people flying for the first time, don’t you?”

“The best feeling in the world,” he admitted.

Cassian patted him on the back as they walked in.

Dinner was easier than Azriel had hoped. Wine and whisky flowed, the conversation was smooth, Eris spoke with Feyre about art, with Amren about history, and exchanged court gossip with the males. He seemed to have something in common with everyone. Azriel felt a dangerous thrill that he was the one who currently held Eris’ heart, however temporary the flame between them might be.

When the topic turned to music, Eris asked Nesta for a dance. They swept to the center of the room, where they drew all eyes. Nesta’s icy poise softened, her movements became fluid and confident, she looked as if she had been born to be the star of every ballroom. Eris moved with elegance, guiding her as though the dance had been rehearsed a hundred times.

Feyre watched them with a smile, when Rhysand offered his hand. “Shall we remind them who the true stars are?” She let him lead her out, and the two pairs spun together across the wooden floors.

Azriel had his eyes glued to them, suppressing a smile as he watched Eris in his element. Cassian watched too, jaw tight, swirling glass like he meant to crush it. He leaned in to Azriel conspiratorially.

“Do you think he likes men?”

The last trace of Azriel’s smile dropped immediately. “Why would you say so?”

“Nesta says I don’t need to worry about him. She says she can tell he’s queer like that.”

Azriel took a sip of his whisky. “We’ve seen him with women before.”

“Sure, but you know how strict his court is. It could be a cover.”

Azriel looked at him. Cassian’s eyes were still fixated on the pair.

“Would that be a problem? If he was…?”

“Problem? That would be great.” Cassian murmured.

“But would you think less of him?”

“I already think less of him. It would honestly fit him, being a disgusting cocksucker on top of everything else.”

Azriel bristled.

Cassian looked at him. “Shit, Az, I’m not talking about you.”

“What?”

“I know you sometimes like to… dally with men.”

Azriel wanted to deny, but knew there was no point. It was impossible to keep everything from his best friend. “Then how’s that not about me?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way. I don’t have a problem with you. Mother knows I could never bend for a man. But if you have that curiosity, I guess I can see…”

“And those wild parties in the Summer Court, when you'd wake up entangled in limbs, remember? You don’t think some of those limbs were male?”

Cassian stammered. “That’s different.”

“How so?”

“I’m not seeking men out,” he whispered. “I guess I can stomach it, but I don’t treat it like it’s something more. That’s twisting what males are meant for.”

“So this is what you think of me? That I’m not really a male?” Azriel bit the words out.

“But you like females, Az. You’re not like them. You know, like those guys we sometimes see in Rita’s? With makeup and such… that’s sick.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Cas.” Azriel's voice was quiet, but anger hummed beneath every word.

“Of course, I’m not—”

“Then why don’t you shut the fuck up.” Azriel's hands crashed into the table with more force than he intended.

Cassian was taken aback by the outburst. He wanted to press, but the music came to a stop. The pairs came back from the dance floor.

“What are you two fighting about?” Nesta asked, frowning at the tension between them.

“Nothing.” Azriel clipped.

Eris only lifted a brow. He pulled out a chair for Nesta. “Thank you for the dance. You belong in a palace.”

Cassian gritted his teeth, his eyes fixed on Eris. "We were discussing men who prefer the company of other men.”

Rhysand arched his brow in warning. “And what conclusions did you reach?”

“That it's unnatural. And disgusting.” Cassian answered.

Eris looked at him calmly, his expression remained perfectly neutral. But Nesta shot to her feet. “You can be such a thick-headed brute, Cassian!”

Azriel poured himself another whisky, his knuckles white on the bottle.

“You’d prefer a princeling who reads poetry?” Cassian grumbled.

Eris’ tone got colder. “Surely insulting everyone around is a great way to win a lady’s heart.”

“Not sure I’d take advice from someone whose soldiers keep vanishing.” Cassian snapped.

The air in the room shifted.

“Strong words, from someone so insecure he can’t bear their mate dancing with another man.”

The chair scraped the floor as Cassian stood up. “How about we fight for her? Or is your only skill prancing around a ballroom?”

“Fight for her, like she’s some prize to be won? Of course. I forgot you're an Illyrian, you don't believe in a woman's right to choose for herself.”

Cassian moved but Azriel’s hand snatched his wrist with a bruising force. He kept his eyes on his drink, but the steel in his voice left no room for argument. “Sit. Down. Or I’ll make you sit.”

Cassian dropped back into his chair, stunned by his brother’s reaction. “What’s gotten into you today?”

Eris relaxed his stance and took a sip from his glass. “I need a smoke anyway. Do you have a balcony here?”

“I’ll show you around.” Azriel said standing up.

They stepped onto the balcony, Eris leaned against the stone wall, taking in the view of the city. Azriel settled opposite him on the balustrade. He took a deep breath of the cool, evening air, and exhaled slowly, letting the tension slowly dissolve.

“I’m sorry about Cassian. He’s a prick.”

Eris only shrugged, pulling out an ornate wooden pipe. “I don’t need apologies.” The balcony was shadowed, lit only by the light from inside. Eris looked unbothered as his pipe glowed like a small beacon, lit by his fire magic. “Why did you talk about that topic?”

“Cassian brought it up.”

He puffed a lazy cloud of smoke. “Did you tell him about me?”

“No.” Azriel shook his head, “But I told him about me.”

“And?”

“He tried to explain how he wasn't talking about me.” Azriel's smile was bitter.

Eris laughed, but with an edge of quiet resignation. “It’s always like that, isn’t it? They’re all bad — except the ones I know personally.”

Azriel watched Eris take another draw, surprised at how lightly he seemed to treat the argument. But it was the practiced calm of someone who’s heard it all before, of walls built so high that words no longer breached them.

He sat lower on the railing and stretched his legs out until their feet touched. A corner of Eris’ mouth twitched up as his eyes flicked down to Azriel’s. Azriel let his eyes follow the smoke as it rolled from Eris’ mouth.

“Is there really no way for me to taste that?” He asked, nodding at the pipe.

Eris looked up, thinking. “Maybe if I breathed the smoke into your mouth, it wouldn’t burn you.”

“Do it.” Azriel’s smirk was a dare.

Eris glanced at the door. “Here?”

Azriel only nodded, mischief glinted in his eyes. Eris smiled and stepped closer, his legs between Azriel’s knees. He took a long draw. After another quick glance at the door, he cupped Azriel's jaw, lifting it slightly, and breathed the smoke into his open mouth. Their lips touched for a whisper of a second, and Eris stepped back.

Azriel felt the hot burn in his lungs, he suppressed a cough and immediately felt pleasantly lightheaded. Eris watched with delight as a smile curled on Azriel’s lips. They held each other’s gaze, experiencing the silence together, a world away from the muffled chatter inside.

The cool night air wrapped around them, holding them in for a couple more heartbeats, when they heard a creak and Nesta peeked through the doorway. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Eris gave her a warm smile.

She settled next to Azriel. “I’m sorry about Cassian.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, really.”

“He’s being such an ass.”

“I’m being more of an ass to him, if I’m honest.”

“Then why are you so hard on him?” Azriel asked with a smirk. “Poor guy doesn’t stand a chance.”

“I’m just a nasty person.” Eris blew another cloud of smoke. “I suppose I could stop making him so jealous, before his heart gives out.”

“I don’t know why he is so jealous…” Nesta crossed her arms.

Eris let out a soft laugh. “He thinks you deserve to live in a palace and be drowned in luxury.”

They heard raised voices coming from inside.

“If he's so worried about being a brute, then why does he act like a half-wild beast.”

“He’s a brute, but also a great general and one of the best warriors of our time.” Eris said flatly.

Azriel and Nesta exchanged surprised looks.

Cassian stepped onto the balcony, angry. “What’s going on out here?”

“We were just talking about you.” Eris smiled.

“Don’t.” He looked at Nesta. “Don’t listen to this snake!”

“I think you two are very lucky to have found each other.” Eris said calmly. “It’s always a sign of a good relationship, when each person thinks they are unworthy of the other.”

Cassian and Nesta looked at each other. Eris slipped between them and stepped back inside. Azriel followed, leaving the couple to talk privately.

Eris returned to the table and picked up his glass.

“How can you deal with all this drama?” Eris sighed to Amren.

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.” She smirked at him.

“I love it.” He clinked his glass against hers.

Cassian grunted an apology after returning, which Eris waved off again, and jumped straight into a funny war camp anecdote. Soon they were trading tales, ones about aerial maneuvers gone wrong, or about Autumn recruits who accidentally set their own tents on fire.

Maybe this can actually work, Azriel thought. For all his grumbling about hating the Night Court, Eris was actually making an effort. It was a skill, one Azriel has seen sharpening in Eris over the years, as if he was practicing for an audience larger than this room. A performance, but to Azriel, all conversations that involved more than three people were performances.

"Thank you for your hospitality." Eris said as the conversation quieted.

Rhysand raised his glass. "To our alliance!"

The toast went around the table. Azriel lifted his glass and found himself studying faces instead of making conversation — the way Cassian's shoulders relaxed, how Amren watched Eris with something like approval, the careful neutrality Rhys maintained even while smiling. This was, to him, where the real information lay. He couldn't afford to be distracted by his own words when there was so much to read in everyone else.

“To our alliance.” Cassian poured another round. “Winter Court makes the best whisky in Prythian. Strong enough to strip paint off a wall.”

“You should check Autumn whisky. Aged in barrels made from fire oak, smooth and smoky. Though the finest is brewed by my friend Maura, she adds cinnamon and spices to it. Tamlin requested a hundred barrels from me as payment for aiding Lucien.”

“How many other lives have you bought with whisky?”

Eris laughed. “I did become an expert in smuggling people safely outside Autumn’s borders over the years.”

“That many people needed saving?” Amren asked.

“I’m in charge of dealing with the ones Beron wants to disappear.”

“I thought he’d execute traitors?” Rhysand mused.

“Oh, he does. Publicly and brutally. But it’s not traitors he hands me. As much as Beron despises lesser faeries, he doesn’t stop himself from… well, let’s just say I probably have a dozen half-siblings living in different courts.”

They exchange a look amongst themselves.

“That’s bold. You’re creating competition for yourself.” Cassian said.

“Not really.” Eris smirked. “I tracked some of them. They have little to no power. My mother is the powerful one — she comes from a long fire wielding lineage, and her children are strong in that regard. My father’s magic has never been strong, I’m not sure how he even got the throne. I wouldn’t be surprised if he cheated somehow.”

“Cheated how? The power chooses the next High Lord. It can’t be influenced.” Rhysand said.

“I know it’s not possible, but… all I’ve seen Beron do during his reign, was make deals and schemes to keep his power. I don’t know how, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a trick.” They locked eyes. “I know you can feel it too, how weak Beron really is. So no, I’m not really worried about his half-lesser offspring.”

“Lesser…” Nesta mumbled. “I hate that word.”

“Me too. But it's hard not to slip back to tradition.” Eris admitted.

“There’s a movement to stop calling them Lesser Faeries.” Amren chimed in.

“I know, I started it with Tarquin.” Eris smiled. “I’m all for equal rights for all fae.”

“A noble pursuit. Though Autumn has a long way to go.” Rhysand reached for his glass. “I too wish things would get better for everyone.”

“You don’t need to wish for progress. You’re High Lord. What’s stopping you from fixing your own court?”

Rhys’s smile thinned. “You seemed rather pleased with Velaris. Are you not satisfied?”

Azriel cringed at the tension that simmered under each of their word, as if it was there all evening, hidden under a thin veil that was finally starting to lift.

“Illyria and the Court of Nightmares are also under your control, are they not?”

Rhysand exhaled, irritated. “It’s not that simple.”

“You want to have equal rights for Faes and Faeries, but you can’t even stop Illyrians from clipping their females’ wings.”

“Ask Azriel how dangerous it is to try and change that.” Rhysand snapped. Azriel stiffened at the sudden weight of eyes on him. Anger rose at being dragged into this as a shield, his worst moments used as a tool in a debate. Eris met his eyes for a brief moment, but Azriel kept his face unreadable.

“It's easy for you to criticize,” Rhysand continued, voice sharpening, “when you yourself have no real power to change anything.”

“And what are you doing with your enormous power? Half of your court rots in shadow. And under Amarantha, you only kept your friends safe.”

“Exactly. I kept them safe, and I had to sacrifice a lot.”

“You sacrificed?” Eris scoffed. “You were given freedom and power, and not only you didn’t help the other courts, you terrorized them. You were free to do as you please as long as you did her bidding, and now you’re playing the victim?”

“I had to pretend to be on her side. That was the price for the survival of Velaris.”

“Pretend?” Eris’ voice got louder. “Tell me, what is the difference between pretending to be evil and being evil to the people you killed? To the faes you tortured? Didn’t you put a man's head on a spike in Spring Court, just to send Tamlin a message? Did you tell him you’re only pretending while you tortured him?”

Rhysand fixed his gaze to the side, jaw clenched. Feyre seethed beside him.

“I had to pretend to be on Beron’s side for five hundred years,” Eris continued, “and I shed less blood than you did in fifty.”

“Beron didn’t do to you what Amarantha did to him.” Feyre cut in, voice sharp. “Don’t you dare diminish his sacrifice. What did you do to save Prythian? Where were you? Did you do anything at all, other than make plans and schemes?”

Eris leaned back in his chair. “And you’re fine with your mate destroying innocent men? Just to punish people who cared about them?” Azriel watched his eyes, uncharacteristically swirling with emotion.

“So that’s what this is about?” Rhysand said coldly.

Eris looked at him gritting his teeth.

“I chose him at random.” Rhysand said. “And I spared him, when I realized what he was to you.”

“You spared him? An innocent man?” Eris laughed a sad laugh. “You wanted to kill someone at random. He was someone’s son. Someone’s friend. Did he deserve to have his mind scrambled, to teach us a lesson? To show off your power?”

“I didn’t kill him.” Rhysand’s temper snapped. “I didn’t do anything to him! I left him alone.”

Eris leaned forward, eyes blazing. “You raped his mind.”

Rhysand’s face went white.

“You entered him forcefully, when he didn’t even have a way to fight back. You saw his most intimate thoughts and memories.” Eris’ clenched fists started to smoke. “And do you want me to thank you for not killing him?”

The table went silent.

“He was never the same after that. He wanted nothing to do with me.” He unclenched his fists. “You delighted in terrorizing others, and now you're treated like a hero. You don't even feel guilty.”

“You have no idea what he feels.” Feyre shouted. “You have no idea what nightmares haunt him. What trauma she inflicted on him.”

“We all have scars.”

“Rhysand made impossible choices, and now has to face the consequences. You’re even too scared to take a stand and grab your throne by force.”

Eris stood up, fire flickering in his eyes as he looked at her.

Feyre didn't back down. “Your only accomplishment is being Beron’s son.”

The words hit like a blow. Eris went still, shifting his eyes between Feyre and Rhysand. When he finally moved, it was with deliberate calm. He moved his glass away, dabbed his mouth with the napkin, then slammed it on the table.

“I’m leaving.” He moved towards the door.

Rhysand drank his whisky, not looking up. “How? You can’t winnow from here.”

Eris toppled the bottle on the table, and with the same motion sparked a flame. The liquor spilled all over the table, spreading the fire with it, making the space bright for a moment. Eris stormed out of the room. Rhysand didn’t stand up, with a small movement of his hand the shadows put out the flames. He looked at Azriel and nodded to the door.

“Go escort him from here.”

Azriel moved, when he reached the door Rhysand added, “Make sure the alliance still stands.”

He paused briefly and nodded.

Eris was walking down the stairs, determination in his gait.

“Wait, Eris. I can take you out of this city.”

Eris turned around, ready to strike with his anger, but his features softened after a moment. He sighed. “Fine.”

Azriel hesitated, not sure what words would be best. “I’m…”

“Don’t.” Eris cut in. “I don’t want to talk.”

Azriel understood this feeling perfectly. “Are you going to the Autumn Palace now?”

“No, I don’t want to see it.” He rubbed his forehead. “Just take me somewhere where I can winnow from, please. I will figure out where to sleep tonight.”

Azriel nodded and they took off flying.

The night air was crisp, cold wind pushed against them as they flew in silence. It was a dark, moonless night, more stars came into view as they left the lights of the city behind them. They landed on a flat ledge carved into a mountain, high above the ground.

“Flying does help calm the anger.” Eris admitted.

“The wind washes it all away.”

“So, can I winnow from here?”

“No, it’s guarded too.”

In the darkness Eris noticed two small buildings near the cliff.

“What is this place?” Eris asked.

“It’s my house.” Azriel smiled. “You could spend a night here.”

Eris was quiet for a long moment, looking at the building. “Even after I just burned bridges with your family?”

“You said what needed saying."

"Did I?"

Azriel paused at the door, looking back at him. "Just stay.”

Chapter Text

An illustration for the previous chapter that I made for Eris week
I posted it as a separate work too, if you'd like to kudo
Hope you like it, next chapter coming soon 🤗

Chapter Text

When Azriel opened the door to his house, warm scents of wood and tea escaped into the cold night air, and Eris could not have been more enticed to enter. Inside the cozy cabin, everything was neat and ordered, each item well crafted and clearly made for utility.

Eris walked around slowly, taking in his surroundings with curious eyes. Azriel found himself feeling anxious, watching a lord accustomed to palace splendor assess his humble dwelling, evaluating every piece of furniture, every sparse decoration. Not that there was much to evaluate — Azriel preferred things practical and sturdy, with lots of space to move around without worrying about his wings knocking something over.

A large table in the center of the room caught Eris’ attention. A single slab of trunk, cut clean across the grain, shape following the natural curve of the wood. Eris traced his finger over the rings of what once was an enormous tree.

“That table is beautiful.” He said with marvel.

“Thank you. I made it myself.”

Eris’ head snapped to Azriel. “Really?”

“Yes, I made everything here myself. I built this house with my own hands.”

Eris looked around again, this time with unfiltered awe in his eyes. A bit of pride bloomed in Azriel.

“This is excellent. I didn’t know you had such skills.”

“It took a lot of time to hone them. The other building there is my workshop.”

“You know,” Eris said, admiring the rack full of knives and daggers, “If you’re ever tired of working for the Night Court, I would love to hire you to build a cottage in my forest. I wanted one for a long time.”

Azriel smiled. “I would love to. I would make sure to make things more ornamental for you.”

Eris reached a big bookcase. “I know you don’t like Autumn’s intricate designs.”

Azriel was taken aback. “I love it. It’s not what I would usually do for myself, but it’s delightful. It suits you.”

Eris didn’t look back, but Azriel saw a smile.

“You have a lot of books.” Eris stated flatly.

“What, still surprised that I can actually read?”

“Surely they’re just for decoration.” Eris murmured, his finger touching the book spines lightly as he read the titles. They were mostly practical ones – military tactics, history, political philosophy, woodworking. His finger lingered over the tomes he’d given Azriel, a third one from the series must have been bought by Azriel himself. Eris smiled, but didn’t comment.

“I was moved by those books.” Azriel said quietly. “I’m glad they had a happy ending.”

“There’s no such thing as a happy ending.” Eris replied. “Just temporary happiness. Then life goes on.”

“I didn’t know you’re such a delightful optimist. Can't life go on in happiness?”

“I suppose. But you have to keep putting in the work. So it’s not really an ending, is it?”

“In that case, there is no such thing as an unhappy ending. As long as you’re not dead.”

“If you’re dead, then it’s just an ending. Can’t be sad if you’re not there to perceive it.”

“Do you want some tea?” Azriel asked to cut the debate short.

“Sounds great.” Eris huffed a laugh, knowing it could drag until the morning if he was not stopped.

Azriel filled a copper kettle and put it on the stove, then opened a firebox to throw some logs in.

“Let me.” Eris walked over and put his hands on a kettle. Soon the water came to a boil.

They sat down at the table, a cool mask left Eris’ face as exhaustion replaced it. He dragged his finger along the edge of the teacup.

“What do you think, is my deal with your court over?”

“No. The alliance stands.”

“You know it?”

“Yes. Rhysand asked me to make sure of it when I left for you.”

“So you brought me here to make sure of that?”

“You know it’s not why.” Azriel answered softly.

His shadows curled around Eris’ legs like a blanket, sensing his emotions underneath the easy conversations. Lightness faded from Azriel’s voice. “I’m sorry for how this whole thing went.”

“If the alliance stands, then there’s nothing to be sorry about. I drank, I danced, I got to yell at Rhysand, and I set something on fire. A great night!” Eris said with a smile. “I should be the one apologizing.”

“Cassian’s stupid remarks…”

“I started to like Cassian. He has some fun stories to tell.”

“You’re not bothered by his opinions?”

Eris shrugged. “I doubt he even believes them. It must be hard to be the military leader of Illyrians and an ally to people like me.”

Azriel’s expression sharpened. “Illyrians are extremely sensitive about this. They’re obsessed with proving their masculinity, with demonstrating how different they are from their females. I've even heard whispers about clipping the wings of males caught... submitting to other males.” He took a measured sip of his tea, his jaw tight. “I hate Illyrians so much.”

“You know you’re an Illyrian too, right?” Eris smirked.

“I’m an Illyrian the same way you’re Beron Vanserra’s son.”

“Touché.” Eris curled his hands over the teacup, looking pensive. “I shouldn’t have lost control like that, say all those things. I’ve been too tired lately, it’s been a rough couple of days.”

“Who was that man that you and Rhys spoke of?” Azriel asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Eris looked away, bringing back the memories. “He was a captain in Beron’s army. A man with a heart in the right place. I worked with him to soften the damage of Beron’s orders. We were… very close.” He paused for a moment. “I was too harsh to Rhysand. But when I stood there with Beron and watched… he had no idea about daemati powers. I should have protected him, but there was nothing I could do. Rhysand must have seen some of our private moments and he decided to spare him. I was ready to deny whatever Rhysand would say, but he didn’t expose us. I should be grateful for that.”

“It’s hard to be cool headed when it’s someone you care about.”

“I should have learned that a long time ago. To be colder. But yet I still want to have a beating heart.”

“Wouldn’t you want to release yourself from the guilt?”

“And be like Beron?”

Azriel tensed. The weight he carried was as constant as his own shadows. But he never considered it something worth keeping.

Eris seemed to notice his thoughts. “I feel a lot of guilt too. Here I am, blowing up at Rhysand, but I’ve done so many things that haunt me.”

“What things?”

“My father forced me to execute traitors. And I did it. People that I worked with, that I helped. I looked them in the eyes and I ended them.”

Azriel felt sick, the things he had to do in the Court of Nightmares’ dungeons rushing back to him. “I had to torture and kill so many that it stopped registering as something terrible.” He admitted quietly. “Just another task to complete.”

“Does it numb the pain?”

“I push it deep inside, cage it until it suffocates. I’m still waiting for it to die.”

Eris nodded. “Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in it. Swimming in rough seas, barely catching my breath.”

“I understand.” Azriel said quietly.

“I know you do. You understand me more than anyone.” Eris’ voice was flat as he sipped his tea.

Emotions overwhelmed Azriel, rising in his chest. He watched Eris, who didn’t seem to notice his reaction, and felt like they were the only people in the world. Eris looked so tired, the tension of the day finally gave out, and the exhaustion was visible in the shadows under his eyes and his somber expression.

I know exactly how you feel. The Mother knows I do.

Azriel watched Eris stare into his tea, lost in dark thoughts. He felt the urge to pull him back from that edge.

“Do you want to spend time with me tomorrow?” Azriel’s words surprised even him. “I have no duties all day.”

Eris blinked, as if just awakened. “What?”

“Tomorrow. I thought…” Azriel hesitated, suddenly feeling foolish. “I thought maybe we could do something. Together. Something normal.”

A corner of Eris’ mouth lifted. “Normal?”

“Not court politics, not heavy conversations. Just spend some time together.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Shadowsinger?”

Azriel rolled his eyes and mumbled something about being insufferable.

“Tell me more. What would we do?”

“We can go hiking.” Azriel motioned to the mountains. “I can show you the lake. And then we’ll eat. And you can spend another night here.”

Eris was quiet again, but Azriel could see him turning the idea over in his mind. “I need to leave early in the morning. I have to meet with someone.”

Azriel's heart sank. "Sure. Of course." He hid his face in the teacup, feeling embarrassed for how this rejection hurt him.

“But I can come back in the afternoon?” Eris asked. “And then we can go hiking? What do you think?”

“Sure. That works for me.” Azriel took another sip of tea to hide his smile.

Eris was trying not to smile too as he looked out the window at the mountains, now hidden in darkness. “Is it safe to hike together? What if someone saw us? Rhysand would be furious.”

“There’s no one ever here, we’ll be alone.” Azriel hesitated, things that he didn’t want to say pressed against his chest. The silence stretched between them, and the need to be honest started choking the words out of him.

“Eris.” His voice was rough. “There's something I need to tell you.”

Eris set down his cup, his smile disappeared. “What is it?”

“Rhysand… he knows about us.”

Eris went completely still. The words hung in the air for a moment.

“What do you mean, he knows?”

“He saw us. Through my mind.”

Eris’ face went white, then flushed red with fury. ”He what?” The words were quiet, but Azriel could feel the temperature in the room rising.

“My shields were down, and —”

“Your shields were DOWN?” Eris stood up. “When?”

“That time in the library office.”

“He’s known all this time? Gods. Does everyone know?”

“No, I’m sure he hasn’t told anyone.”

Eris was pacing around the room, his hands shaking. “I tell you things that I don’t tell anyone else.”

“My shields were fine when we talked. It’s just when we…”

“Oh great. That’s great. Why does he keep seeing my intimate moments? Can’t I have privacy?” He turned to Azriel. "And now he's done it again. Through you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should have protected your mind! I thought you understood what discretion meant.”

“Spare me the lecture.” Azriel’s voice was defeated. “I already heard it all from Rhysand.”

Eris unclenched his fists, and let out a long breath. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

“I didn’t want you to get mad.”

“You didn’t want me to get mad??” Eris shouted.

“And I didn’t want you to know how easily distracted I am.”

“So I don’t use it against you? That’s what you think of me?”

Azriel stood up and stepped close to him, Eris slapped away his outstretched hand.

“You still think I will betray you?”

“I don’t think that. I’m sorry.”

Eris walked away from him.

“I’m sorry Eris. I know it’s my fault. I won’t ever let myself drop the shields. I was just so caught up with what we were doing, I forgot about the entire world around us.”

Eris’ stance softened but he didn’t answer.

Azriel couldn’t hide anguish from his voice. “Don’t leave.”

Eris stopped in his tracks and turned around. “I’m not going to leave. I’m just angry.” Relief flushed through Azriel’s expression. “Stop smiling! I told you I’m still angry!”

Azriel was already next to him, putting his hands on Eris’ shoulders. “You look exhausted. Let’s go to sleep. You can be angry tomorrow too.”

Eris looked at him exasperated. “You should have told me sooner. It makes sense now why he forbade you to see me.”

“If I told you when you were less worn out, you’d set me on fire.”

“Be glad. This place looks like it burns easily.” He rubbed his face. “I will set you on fire one day and I won’t even be sorry. You make me angry more than anyone.”

“That sounds like a compliment from you.” Azriel smiled.

Eris looked like wanted to murder him, but then he sighed. “All right. Do you have a shower?”

“Of course I have a shower.”

“I don’t know what the Night Court considers a livable standard…” Eris grumbled.

“Next time I will invite you to my palace instead.” Azriel joked. “Come, I’ll give you some comfortable clothes and a towel.”

Eris disappeared into the bathroom. Azriel took a deep breath, feeling the weight of this long day sitting heavy on him too. Moments later came a sharp yelping sound.

“WHAT THE FUCK — Azriel!”

“Forgot to mention,” Azriel shouted towards the bathroom. “Water is from the mountain stream. It’s… refreshing.”

Eris finally emerged, dripping and scowling. “You’re lucky I have fire powers. You would have to carve me out of ice.”

“You don’t like cold water?” Azriel teased.

“It’s not cold. This water shouldn’t be moving. How can you live like this?”

“Cold shower’s good for you. For the body and mind.”

Eris groaned and dropped on the bed.

When Azriel finished showering, Eris was already asleep. He joined him in bed, watching his face for a moment. He tucked him in, and Eris didn’t even flinch. Azriel moved some hair out of his face, and watched Eris’ face soften. He wanted to look more, but sleep came fast for him too.

Azriel jolted awake, heart thudding, sweaty and ready to run. Eris was over him, worry etched into his eyes.

“You had a nightmare.”

Azriel took a shaky breath. He covered his face. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you that this could happen.”

Eris lied down beside him and took his hand. “Was it one of the nightmares you’d told me about?”

“I always had them, but it’s usually something from my past. But these ones are different. They have become more frequent recently.”

“Different how?”

Azriel’s voice dropped to a hush. “I’m overwhelmed with fear in them. Unlike anything I’d felt before. It feels like it belongs to someone else.”

Eris looked at him wide-eyed. “What do you dream about?”

“A lake.”

“Is it burning?”

“Burning? No, it’s… it pulls me, so fast as if I’m falling into it. Then I drown, I can feel everything, how the water pierces my lungs, how I’m suffocating. Then I’m back on the shore again, looking at this black, metallic water, and I’m pulled again.”

“Do you recognize the lake?”

Azriel had a suspicion what this lake might be. He felt it. Lake that Koschei is trapped in. But he didn’t want to say it out loud, he already felt paranoid with all this strange magic and the search for the trove. He shook his head. He took a deep breath and relaxed.

Eris stroked his arm. “Is there anything I can do to help with your bad dreams?”

“I just need to take my mind off them.”

“You had nightmares because we didn’t cuddle.” Eris smiled.

“I didn’t know you’re such a fan of cuddling.”

“I don’t have many opportunities to do so.”

Azriel put his hands around him, and in a swift move he wrestled Eris to the front, spooning him from behind, squeezing him tightly.

Eris traced scars on Azriel’s hands with lazy motions. “Better now?”

“Better. You were right.” Azriel pulled him closer, burying his face against Eris' neck. The lingering dread began to fade, replaced by the solid warmth of Eris beside him and the gentle morning glow filtering through the windows.

“See? I’m full of wisdom.” Eris said in a sleepy voice.

“Modest, too.”

“So, why is your bed so big? Are you hosting orgies here?”

Azriel huffed a laugh, the teasing joke chased away the last shadows of the nightmare. “I have an apartment in the city for that. I don’t bring dates here, only my closest friends are invited, and even that is rare.”

“So I’m not a date then? Am I your friend, by that logic?”

Azriel gave it a thought. “You’re my lover.”

Eris opened his mouth, then closed.

Azriel moved his lips closer to his neck. “Are you not my lover?” He felt a flash of warmth in Eris’ face.

“We weren’t on speaking terms up until yesterday.” Eris murmured.

“An now?”

“Go to sleep. I need to get up in three hours.” Eris nestled in, but couldn’t hide the twitch of a smile when Azriel kissed the nape of his neck.

Azriel woke up pressed against Eris’ chest, their arms wrapped around each other, his wings draped over them like a blanket. Eris woke up too. “Did you sleep well? Any more bad dreams?”

“I slept great.” Azriel smiled.

“See, I told you cuddling works.” Eris sat up and stretched. Azriel slumped down on the bed and splayed his wings wide.

“I see now why you need such a huge bed.”

Azriel put hands behind his head, his wings covering most of the bed now. Eris leaned down and kissed Azriel’s neck, and his lips found a delicate chain. He pulled it out. His eyes widened when he saw his enchanted earring as the pendant.

“What is this?”

“Your earring.” Azriel suddenly felt awkward.

Eris smiled. “You’ve been wearing it like this the whole time?”

“To make sure it's safe.”

“Sure…” Eris’ smile grew bigger.

“The chains are strong. They can’t be broken.”

Eris pulled one of the two black strands that secured the earring.

“Ouch!”

“What a beautiful chain… and it’s like a leash for you.”

He pulled Azriel close into a kiss.

“If you want to put a collar on me, I prefer leather.” Azriel said, rubbing his neck.

Eris’ smile curled up and he bit Azriel’s neck, then continued his kisses lower, to his chest and abs, until reaching the rest of him that had already woken up. He pushed down Azriel’s sleeping pants and took the broad head into his mouth. Azriel purred, getting himself more comfortable on the pillows. Suddenly Eris jumped.

“Shit! I have to go.” He hurried out of bed.

Azriel looked at him with disbelief. “Do you really need to go now?”

“Yes, I'm almost late.” Eris was already dressing up. Azriel sighed and sat up. He watched Eris quickly putting on the last of garments.

“We’ll see each other today? We were supposed to go hiking, remember?” Azriel asked him by the door.

“So you were serious about that?”

“And you weren’t?”

“I thought you might be drunk when you proposed it.”

“Please, you didn’t see me drunk yet.”

“I’ve seen you drunk once or twice…” Eris gave him a knowing smile. “I will be here in the afternoon. But Azriel…”

“Yes?”

“If I come here, with my hiking clothes, with my backpack and snacks, and you won’t be here, I’ll be really angry.”

“I will be here.”

“If you change your mind, or Rhysand…”

Azriel held his arms. “I will be here. I won’t change my mind.”

Eris kissed him deeply. “Later we’ll finish what we started.” Azriel leaned in for another kiss, but Eris pulled back. “And don’t you dare take care of it yourself.” He grabbed Azriel's crotch through his pants. “It’s mine to finish. You will be a good bat and obey, right?”

Azriel groaned.

Eris’ face came closer. “Will you be good?”

“Yes.” Azriel breathed and kissed him.

He watched as Eris hurried to the edge of the forest and winnowed away.

Azriel couldn’t wait. It was not only the unfinished need he felt, but just the thought of spending more time with Eris filled him with excitement. He already felt colder without him.

What if he doesn’t come? The thought crossed his mind, quickly dismissed. Is that how he felt when I kept changing my mind? I would deserve it if he didn’t show up.

He turned back inside and began preparing for the day – laying out clothes, thinking about what to cook for dinner. He wouldn't give Eris any reason to doubt him. Not this time. Not ever again.

Chapter Text

Azriel prepared food and swept the place again. Leather cross-body packs sat by the door while he changed into his lighter hiking clothes. He checked the edge of the forest every few minutes for the past hour. The controlled, patient spy in him that could stay still in the treetops for hours was nowhere to be found.

When he heard soft crunching of leaves outside his house, he didn’t even wait for the knock. He flung open the door with a smile that clearly caught Eris off guard.

Eris looked him up and down. “So, still up for the hike?”

“Of course.”

“What’s with the face?”

“I’m happy to see you.”

Eris narrowed his eyes at Azriel, but he had already slung his packs over his shoulders and was heading toward the forest.

“How was your meeting?”

Eris only looked at him sideways, but said nothing.

Azriel knew he wouldn’t answer, they still had secrets and it wasn’t likely to ever change. He was aching to talk more about the Dread Troves, about Nesta’s made items and everything else they had learnt. Eris was one the smartest people he knew, and he could be an amazing asset, but their courts were still enemies. It wouldn’t ever change, he thought, even if Eris was the High Lord, he wouldn’t discuss his politics with another court’s spymaster.

Unless Azriel would leave the Night Court, and live with Eris as his consort. The thought was so ridiculous it made him laugh, he was surprised that it even crossed his mind.

“What is so funny?” Eris asked.

“Nothing. To be honest, I half expected you to wear some elegant lordly clothes and complain the whole time about your feet hurting.”

“Please. I hunt and hike all the time.”

“I thought you just walk your dogs around the palace gardens with a wine in your hand and call it hunting.”

A pinecone hit Azriel’s cheek. Eris’ laughter followed.

“Who doesn’t enjoy a little wine in the garden?” He said, grinning. “But I did take my brothers camping when they were young. Someone had to teach them the basics my father neglected.”

“I’d imagine making a campfire was not a top priority for you guys.”

“You’d be surprised how often we have to go without our powers. Did I tell you how Lucien insisted on catching fish from the stream with his bare hands?”

They marched in a steady rhythm, sharing stories and jokes along the way.

Eris suddenly stopped, and Azriel’s hand instinctively reached for a blade. Eris stepped closer to the giant oak, and bent down. Azriel scanned the grove in confusion.

“Look at this beauty.” Delight made Eris’ voice breathy. He moved away to reveal a big, brown lump covered in leaves.

“A mushroom??” Azriel was dumbfounded.

Eris tapped the large mushroom cap with an open palm a few times, creating a muted thud. “Boletus!” He twisted it and plucked it up, then smelled it, closing his eyes.

Azriel was lost for words.

Eris was scanning the surroundings. “Look around, if there’s one, there must be others around.”

Azriel looked around, and indeed, found another large cap hiding in pine needles. “There’s one!”

“Get it!”

Eris’ excitement was contagious. Azriel bent down and tapped the cap too — the sound was satisfying. He plucked it from the ground.

“Do you have a blade?” Eris asked.

Azriel hesitated, and reached for the Truth-Teller.

“Cut the bottom, and clean it from the litter.”

Azriel smiled as he did just that, smelling the mushroom — an earthy, mossy smell, like ground after the rain. He packed it along with two other specimens that Eris found, leaving the pack open per Eris’ instructions.

Azriel laughed as they continued walking. “How do you know they’re not poisonous?”

Eris glared at him like it was the most idiotic thing he’s ever heard. “That’s boletus edulis. The most noble of mushrooms.” He shook his head in disbelief.

The path wound on, they kept talking and laughing. Their banter stopped when the trail became steeper, words replaced with heavier breaths. A few rocky stretches forced them to use their hands, pulling themselves up over stone ledges. The trees were thinner, giving way to shorter shrubs.

Azriel stepped to the side. “Come. I want to show you the view.”

They reached a clearing in the trees and the drop before them.

“This is our goal for today.”

Spread below them was a lake, cradled by mountains. Lush green around its edges gave way to rocky slopes with snow covered peaks. The emerald water was like a mirror that reflected it all in delicate waves.

The view was breathtaking.

It was one of Azriel’s favorite places. He watched Eris, who let his face show the awe.

“Thank you.” Eris whispered. He took a long breath, as if trying to fill his whole body with the sight. “I hope one day I will be able to share my land with you too.”

They stood there for a moment, in the profound calm that only untouched nature could provide.

Eris stepped closer until their shoulders brushed. Like old friends sharing a quiet moment, they leaned into each other. Azriel gravitated into that single point of contact, wanting more, moving toward it. He tilted his head toward Eris, still gazing at the view, but needing to feel more of his warmth.

When Eris leaned too, their heads rested against each other. Azriel closed his eyes. The landscape forgotten, he let his head fully sink, dropping to Eris’ shoulder, caring about nothing beyond the man next to him.

Eris put his arm around him, drawing them closer together. Azriel burrowed his face in the warm skin of his neck, wrapping his hands around him. They held each other tightly, as if trying to merge into one being.

A tightness built in Azriel’s chest, not desire, but something deeper. A closeness he hadn’t realized he’d craved so much. He couldn’t remember the last time he was held like that, if he ever was — the memory faded. Azriel realized they had never hugged before, in all their years of playing games and getting dangerously close to something real, they had never simply held each other.

Tears started to gather behind his closed eyes, overwhelmed by a feeling he didn’t dare name. When Eris began tracing slow circles across his back, Azriel fought to keep his breath steady, to not make any sound — how could he explain it?

But Eris asked no questions, he simply held him, radiating something back into Azriel, filling all the empty spaces inside him with warmth.

Azriel took a long breath to steady. He rubbed Eris’ back and placed a small kiss on his neck. “Come on, we still need to get down to that lake.” They parted and smiled at each other, then looked down at the steep hill that awaited them.

They finally reached the lake, and it was even more beautiful up close. The water was crystal clear, with a turquoise hue to it, with a pebbly beach on one side, and flat, large stones surrounding it. The mountains looked even higher from there, the peaks touching the clouds.

Azriel touched the water and looked up at Eris. “Let’s swim.”

“You sure no one’s here?”

“We’re alone. Come on, I heard you like cold water.” He started to take off his shirt.

Eris watched for a moment as Azriel undressed. “I could be persuaded.”

Azriel stripped fast and was already running and splashing, then Eris followed, slowly submerging.

“This water is warm compared to your shower.” He grumbled, but a smile already beamed on his face as he watched Azriel float on his back, wings splayed wide, not a care in the world.

They swam a few laps, and Eris started looking around.

“Too bad there’s no ledges to jump from.”

“I can help with that.” Azriel smiled.

“What do you mean?”

Azriel swam for the rocks and hauled himself onto the shore. He reached out a hand to Eris, but instead of pulling him on the rocks, he lifted them up to the sky. He held Eris’ hands as he dangled above the lake, ignoring his protests.

“You wanted to jump? Ready?” With that, he let go.

Eris managed to fold himself just in time to hit the water at a perfect angle.

Bastard can’t even be thrown into the lake without looking graceful.

Azriel gave his wings a few powerful flaps, then dove headfirst like a hunting bird. He hit the lake with a splash that sent water spraying over laughing Eris.

“Again!” Eris shouted.

They repeated it three more times until both were tired. Eris swam to the rocky side of the lake and propped himself on the stone shelf, elbows resting behind him, half-submerged. When Azriel swam up to him, Eris started kicking his feet up and down, splashing him.

“Do you remember that boat we stole from lord Carvellor? The one that you sunk?” Eris asked, still kicking.

Azriel grabbed his feet. “I sunk? You set it on fire!”

“I remember it differently.” Eris said, looking at his nails. “But it was so funny how you desperately tried to pour the water out of it.”

“I didn’t want my leathers to get wet. It’s an awful feeling.” He shuddered. “And you were just sitting there, cackling and telling me to go faster, else we’d get in trouble.”

Eris laughed at the memory.

“But it was worth sinking,” Azriel started massaging his feet, “because I got to see you wet in that silk shirt that clung to your body.”

Eris cocked his head. “You thought about me that way? Even back then?”

Azriel nodded and bit Eris’ foot.

“So why didn’t you do anything about it?”

Azriel shrugged and kissed the bite.

Eris pulled his feet away. “You’re stupid, you know that?”

Azriel pulled him down from the rock, and Eris dunked below the surface. When he emerged, Azriel pressed his lips to his, and pulled him closer. Eris wrapped his legs underwater over Azriel’s waist while they kissed. Azriel held him, grabbing his ass, a finger reaching between the cheeks. He lifted Eris up and placed him on a rock ledge, his face hovering between his legs. He moved his hands over his tights, looking at the growing hardness that responded to Azriel’s breath.

He took Eris’ feet and put them up on the rocks too, splaying him wide. Eris leaned back on his elbows, smile curling, and observed. Azriel kissed his legs, tracing his tongue towards the center, then moving to the other leg. He spread him even more apart, exposing the vulnerable skin to the cool air. He traced his tongue, circling the entrance, but never touching it.

Eris let out a growl and tangled his fingers in Azriel’s hair, guiding him towards the center, but Azriel resisted, redirecting his lips at the last second with a small laugh.

“Stop teasing.” Eris purred.

Azriel looked up at him, then licked his perineum with long strokes up and down. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“You want me to lick you here?”

Eris sighed and lied down, scooting down.

“You have to say please.” Azriel smiled.

Eris shot his head up, looking down at Azriel with incredulity. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Azriel!”

“Unless you don’t want it…” Azriel submerged his hand and hovered it up, letting a drop of water hit the orifice, tickling the sensitive place. Eris shuddered and tried to move Azriel’s head with his hands, but he resisted with a laugh.

“Just say please.”

“I will kill you.”

“All right, if you don’t want it.”

“…please.”

The word barely left Eris’ mouth, Azriel’s tongue pressed forward, making Eris drop down with a moan. He licked and kissed with slow, deliberate pressure, savoring every sound Eris couldn’t hold back. Eris was tensing as Azriel’s tongue pressed harder, circling and dipping.

He pressed one last kiss and popped his head up. “Enough for now.”

Azriel was all smiles, when Eris looked down at him exasperated. “I will make you pay for teasing me like that.”

“I hope so.” Azriel kissed his leg, gave it a pat and jumped out of the water. “You can dry us off with that fire of yours, right?”

The descent was easier than the climb, and they walked side by side. Eris’ hair was messy after swimming, pulled in a bun that looked like a fire in the warm light of the sunset. Azriel felt something he hadn’t experienced in years — complete contentment. No schemes and plans, no tension and whispers. Just walking with someone whose company he really enjoyed.

They talked about everything and nothing, sharing jokes and observations, their shoulders brushed as they navigated narrower paths.

While speaking, Eris reached out and took Azriel’s hand. Azriel went still for a moment, his heart thudding. But then he relaxed, their fingers intertwined. They walked for a few more steps and Eris let out a laugh.

“What?” Azriel asked, though he was starting to smile too.

“Look at us. Two old men — an ancient warrior and a ruthless politician, holding hands like a couple of lovesick teenagers on a first date.”

Azriel laughed. “It is our first date.” He looked sideways at Eris. “Are we lovesick?”

“Speak for yourself, Shadowsinger.” Eris said, but the warm smile didn’t fade, and he didn’t let go of his hand.

When the setting sun gave way to the darkness, Eris conjured a fire to follow them and light the way.

“Look how your shadows flock to it. Like they want to bathe in it.”

Azriel looked up, his shadows curled around the fire, dove into it and emerged on the other side drawing the flames along.

“They do that sometimes with magic. They cover themselves in it, and become like sprites for a moment.”

They both watched with smiles as the shadows jumped into the flame to appear as tiny fire wraiths, as if wearing a costume.

Azriel cringed as he felt a scratch of talons against his mental shields.

“Shit, not now,” he whined.

“What’s wrong?”

“Rhys is trying to contact me.”

Eris nodded with understanding and let go of his hand. Azriel took a deep breath and let Rhys in.

“You need to come. We have some information about the Dread Troves.”

Azriel gritted his teeth. “I really can’t today.”

“What is so important?” After a beat of silence, Rhys continued. “You know what, I don’t want to know. Nesta found the location of the Mask. You will go tomorrow morning to the Bog of Oorid. Or are you too busy too?”

“I will see you tomorrow then.”

“All right. I’m counting on you Az.”

Azriel put up the wall of shadows in his mind, he let out a breath and looked at Eris.

“Do you need to go now?” Eris sounded defeated.

“No. I need to go in the morning. But we can spend the night together.”

“I will leave at sunrise then, to let you prepare.”

Azriel wanted to protest, to push their parting as far as he could, but he knew it was for the best. Their duties came first. He nodded. “I’m all yours tonight.”

A smile curled back to Eris’ face. “Mine?”

When Azriel saw the primal hunger in Eris’ eyes, he took him in his arms and flew them back to his house.

They nearly crashed into his front door, and as soon as they entered inside, they started kissing and frantically removing the clothes.

“Are you hungry?” Azriel mumbled into Eris’ lips, while almost ripping up his shirt.

“Later.” Eris shoved him towards the bed.

They both sank into the mattress, clothes went flying, discarded without care. Eris straddled him, then gripped his hands and held them down above Azriel’s head.

“So you’re mine tonight?” Eris purred.

Azriel’s breath hitched, his body arching under the weight pinning him and the strain on his arms. His instinct was to fight, to keep control, but the thought of submitting to Eris lit a fire in him.

“I’m yours.” Azriel whispered, the words tasted like wine, sweet and intoxicating.

Eris lowered his head, watching him like a predator who’s deciding where to bite first.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” Azriel rasped. “You can cut me open and spit on my heart.”

Eris laughed. “You’re insane Azriel. I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to feel good.” One hand was still pinning him in place, the other gripped his face. “I want to own you.”

“Do you want to tie me up?”

“No, I want obedience. Keep your hands here.” He let go of Azriel’s hands, and he kept them above his head, touching the headboard. Eris dug his nails into Azriel’s sides, and he yelped, tickling and painful sensation made him squirm, but he kept his hands up, even as Eris dragged his nails deeper into his skin, leaving red marks.

Azriel was breathing fast, stretched across the bed, when Eris put one slick finger inside him, then another. He took his time, coaxing every muscle to relax, every breath to go deep.

Eris leaned down, one hand tracing the sensitive edge of a wing, the other oiling himself,  and whispered against Azriel’s ear:

“Tell me you want this.”

Azriel’s voice broke as he said, “I want this. I want you to fuck me, Eris.”

Eris slid inside. Azriel gasped, hands clutching the sheets, body tense. Eris moved slowly, reverently, hands stroking his wings, murmuring praise.

“You’re mine right now,” he said. “All mine.”

Azriel gasped helplessly, hands stretched above, his body not belonging to him anymore.

“You’re so hard…” Eris ran a hand gently over his balls, then tugged, lifting Azriel’s cock at the base. Azriel moaned, pain mixing with the pleasure of Eris’ cock perfectly hitting that spot inside him.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes.” Azriel gripped the bedding above his head.

“Do you want me to stroke you?” He hovered his hand.

“Yes.”

“Remember how you teased me earlier? This is your punishment.”

Azriel whimpered, pleading with his eyes.

“You don’t get to come at all.”

Azriel clenched and dropped his head down.

“You like having something in your mouth when you come, don’t you?”

Azriel nodded enthusiastically.

Eris put two fingers in his mouth and slid it in and out. “Show me how you’d want me to suck you right now.”

Azriel took the fingers eagerly, licking and sucking deep, thrusting his hips up for any friction that wasn’t there. Eris just held him at the base, denying even movement against his own skin.

“Not touching you makes you drip so hard? You’d probably be close to finishing if I just touched you. Too bad you’re not coming today.”

He brushed the tip of Azriel’s cock, tasting the sticky precum.

“Eris, please.”

Eris guided Azriel’s hand down and set it low against his own pubic hair, where his heavy cock would sit if Eris weren’t holding it. Eris rolled his hips slowly, drinking in Azriel’s tormented expression.

“Do you want to stroke yourself?”

“Can I?”

“No.”

Azriel’s hand twitched, but didn’t move. He knew he was only a few strokes away from orgasm.

“You’re doing this to yourself. Your hands are free, but you belong to me now. Don’t you?”

“Yes.” Azriel breathed. His hand twitched, fighting the urge, so close, yet so far.

Eris grabbed his legs and moved them even higher, and placed Azriel’s hands to hold his knees. Eris moved faster and deeper, his hand landed on his ass with a smack, making Azriel groan. Eris dragged his nails on his wings, then tugged on them.

“More.” Azriel moaned as he arched his back.

Eris pulled his wings, stretching them and using them to drive even deeper. Azriel’s length was brushing against his stomach, and the slight pain mixed with pleasure brought him to the edge. “I’m so close,” he whined.

“Remember to keep your mental shields strong, baby.” Azriel nodded, mouth opened in silent moan. Eris grabbed his cock and finally stroked it in time with his thrusts. “Say my name when you come. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” he cried, “I’m all yours… Eris… I love you...” Eris stopped in his tracks for a heartbeat, but Azriel was already over the edge with pleasure. “Eris… Eris!!” He came so hard that some of the drops hit his own cheek. Eris dipped his fingers and pushed them into Azriel’s mouth, and he sucked on them as the next waves coated his chest.

He breathed heavily and shook, soft cries and whimpers escaped him as he came down from it.

Eris propped himself on one elbow next to him and they breathed hard together.

“Did you like getting fucked?” He asked with a smile, watching Azriel’s shuttered expression.

“It was amazing.” A crazy smile bloomed on his face.

“We can do this more often if you like.”

“I want to be inside you too.” Azriel breathed.

“That could be tricky.”

“And I want to have you in my mouth. All at the same time.”

“Hmmm,” Eris traced lazy circles on Azriel’s chest. “That’s a difficult position.”

“Then we have to keep trying.” A smile brightened Azriel’s face. “We have to keep seeing each other until we make it happen.”

Eris laughed. “That’s a good plan.” He looked over Azriel’s sweaty, exhausted body and sat up. “I’m starving. What do I have to do to eat something in this house? Honestly, your manners…” Azriel pushed him off the bed in response.

The smell of roasted venison filled the cabin. Eris was sauteing the mushrooms and Azriel was serving dishes he’d been preparing today — caramelized root vegetables and meat.

They settled across from each other, floating flickering flames replaced fairy lights courtesy of Eris — more atmospheric, he said.

Eris took a bite of the venison and made an appreciative sound.

“Don’t even pretend my simple food compares to your palace kitchens.” Azriel laughed.

“I can’t cook at all, I’m amazed how good it tastes.”

“You made the mushrooms.”

“They don’t need much preparation, they’re excellent just as they are.”

Azriel agreed, the taste was exquisite. “How do you even know which ones to pick?“

“It’s a great tradition in my court. The Autumn Court is filled with all kinds of mushrooms. But if you like to start, the simple rule is to pick ones with a spongy bottom — none of them are poisonous. Some of them just taste bitter, but won’t kill you. ”

Azriel laughed and let Eris ramble on about different kinds of mushrooms, where and when to pick them and how to best prepare them. He loved listening to this, imagining a different world, where they could live in a hut like this together, and eat meals like this every day.

“I’ll be sure to stock up on vinegar then, if we’re to find some of those bay boletes.” He smiled.

“Am I to understand I will be a recurring guest here?” Eris asked while putting more vegetables on his plate.

“Of course. You’re welcome here anytime. You can spend every night here as far as I’m concerned.”

Something in Eris shifted, and some of the normal seriousness returned to his face. “You know I can’t really do that.”

The food suddenly felt dry in Azriel’s mouth.

“I have duties… and lots of spying eyes on me. If I were to visit here regularly, we would soon be found.”

Azriel nodded, trying to swallow his food. “Can we pretend that there’s no tomorrow?”

Eris smiled and reached a hand, their fingers intertwined. “Let me warm that apple pie that I brought.”

They shared a warm pie and tea. Azriel’s feelings churned inside him, the word that slipped from him during the heat of release, unaddressed. He cleared his throat. “About the things I said today, when…”

Eris was already shaking his head. “We were just playing. Obviously we didn’t mean the things we said.”

“No?”

“Well, I said you’re never going to come again. I didn’t really mean it, did I?”

Azriel smiled. He knew Eris was trying to make him feel better about his blunder, but that wasn’t the direction he had in mind. “So… I’m not yours?” He teased.

Eris looked at him, then smiled. “Do you want to be?”

“I like you. I want you.” He felt pathetic, the words felt harder than slaying a battalion.

Eris cocked his head as he studied him. “You always resisted me. I had to chase you, and you kept telling me you don’t want me.”

“I was stupid, like you said.”

“But what changed?”

Azriel sighed. “I just always thought you’re not serious about it. That it’s a game, or a trick. And that you’ll laugh at me or expose me, I don’t know…”

“I have to tell you something.”

“What?”

“It was all a joke.”

Azriel glared at him.

“In fact, I faked all my orgasms.” Eris pursed his lips to suppress a laugh.

Azriel kicked him under the table. “Very funny.”

“How could you think I’m not serious about you?” Jest started disappearing from Eris’ face. “I always wanted more. Hell, I used to even think… that’s silly.”

“What?”

Eris’ expression shifted, the teasing falling away. He opened his mouth, closed it, then finally muttered, “…I used to think we were mates.” His voice was muted, as if he was embarrassed to admit that.

Azriel blinked. Heat and cold surged all at once. “Mates? We’re not mates.”

“Clearly.” Eris said. “I said — I used to think that. I told you it’s silly.”

Azriel looked at him. “Why did you think that?”

“I was always so drawn to you. I thought about you a lot. The more we did, the more I wanted to do. And I couldn’t shake you even if I tried. And believe me, I tried. I heard that’s what it feels like when you have a mate, before the bond snaps.”

Azriel was stunned. He looked at Eris for a long moment.

“We can’t be mates.”

“I know, it would have snapped by now, clearly we’re not.”

Azriel’s eyes darkened. His throat worked, the words clawing their way out. “We can’t be, because I can’t have another mate.”

Eris snapped his head up, eyes searching. “You have a mate?”

“I… had a mate.”

Eris’ expression dropped. “Who?”

Azriel sighed. “You don’t know her. I hardly knew her myself. We met, I felt it, but she died before we could accept the bond. If I wasn’t sure before, the tear in my soul when it happened proved what it was.”

Eris was stunned for a moment, conflicting emotions swirled in his eyes. “When?”

“About three hundred years ago. I disappeared for almost twenty years after.”

“I remember. I asked about you, and they just said you weren’t a part of the court anymore.”

Azriel was silent for a moment. “Even though I barely knew her, it felt like half my soul was ripped away. I couldn’t save her. My wings were badly injured — this scar.” He pointed to the mark crossing his left wing. “I couldn’t fly. Couldn’t think, or do anything useful.”

“What did you do in those years?”

“I left everything behind and went to the woods. And I kept walking. The routine helped me. Hunting, setting up camp, preparing food. Then the next day breaking camp and doing it all again. I walked the whole night court, from the northern tip to the border of Day.”

“For twenty years? You walked?”

“I met people on the way, refugees and nomads. I helped them build villages, learned their ways.” He smiled. “I liked doing that, they didn’t ask too many questions about me, and I liked helping people and building things.”

A soft smile appeared on Eris’ lips as he imagined it. “Didn’t you want to keep building things when you got back to the court?”

“I did,” he sighed. “But I was needed elsewhere.”

Eris reached for his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” Azriel squeezed his fingers. “I grieved her. I didn’t tell you before because I hate the pitiful looks.”

Eris smiled, knowing this was exactly the look he had on his face. “Do you miss her? Would you… reunite with her if you could?”

“I don’t really believe in the afterlife, and even if I did — I’ve changed. I’ve done things only a few people could accept. She wouldn’t want me like this, and I wouldn’t want her to. There’s nothing left from the man I was then. I accepted it, and moved on.” He lifted his joined hands. “I’m sorry we’re not mates. I really wish we were.”

“I’m glad we’re not mates.” Eris said flippantly.

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “Ouch?”

Eris grinned. “I’m glad, because it means I’ve been so drawn to you, for you. Because of how you are, and how we are together.” Eris’ expression grew serious. “I’m tired of destiny making my life for me. I didn’t choose to be born a Vanserra, didn’t want to be the heir of Autumn. I tried to walk away from it, but the power picked me, and I have no choice but to deal with it. I never wanted to have a mate, that would be another thing forced on me, another thing that I would have to deal with. I don’t trust the Mother, the Cauldron, or anyone else — I want to choose who I’m with.”

Azriel smiled. “You might still get a mate.”

“If I ever have a mate that’s not you, I’d reject it. If only just to spite destiny.”

Azriel laughed softly. “I believe you could do that. And would you choose me?”

Playfulness sparkled in Eris’ eyes, but he chose honesty. “I would choose you. I always would have. I’ve had relationships in my life, more and less serious, but a wink from you was all it took to throw them all away.”

Azriel stilled. For a moment, there was silence between them. Flickering lights danced on Eris’ face, he searched his eyes, waiting for a smirk or a joke to soften the words, but none came. It was only the truth, laid bare.

Azriel’s chest tightened. Slowly, he pushed back his chair and stood. Eris didn’t move, he watched him approach with that same openness in his eyes, no mask, no agenda.

Azriel slowly brushed a hand against his cheek, and Eris leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering close. He reached his hand, and placed a long, soft kiss in Azriel’s scarred palm. Then he stood up too, and their lips met — warm and slow. Azriel pulled him close, holding him near, as Eris traced the lines of his shoulder, chest, waist.

They tasted each other until they were both on the bed, undressing between kisses, discarding any barriers between them. They tangled together, impossible to tell where one body ended and another began. No games, no dominance, only openness that left them both shaken. Eris’ eyes were clear, no words were exchanged, but his unguarded gaze said: I’m yours.

Azriel touched, kissed, covered him with his body. Every touch like a claim, every breath like a promise. No masks, no roles, only vow in his eyes: I’m yours.

They breathed each other’s soft moans, their fingers laced together. Azriel crushed him with his weight, but Eris still pulled him closer.

Conjured fires flickered around like floating candles, shadows wrapped around them, shielding them from the rest of the world.

When they collapsed together, breathless and spent, they stayed close. Nothing separated them, hearts steadying in the same rhythm as they fell asleep.

They held each other all night. Azriel woke up and looked at Eris. His hair was messy over the pillow, golden earrings contrasted with the simple linens and wooden frames. How wonderful it was to wake up with him. To smell the scent of his lover, to feel the warmth of his body.

“No nightmares tonight?” Eris’ voice was soft and sleepy.

Azriel only shook his head, smiling in bliss.

The sun began to rise, and Eris gathered his things. Azriel watched him dress and braid his hair back in place.

“We pretended there is no tomorrow, but tomorrow came.” Eris sighed.

Azriel was surprised at the sadness in his voice. “We can see each other more often. Why do you sound so resigned?”

Eris tried to smile. “When you look at me like that, I know it’s going to hurt you if something happens to me.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I don’t think there’s a happy ending for us. Even if everything goes well, and I’m high lord… I can’t just bring you to the palace, and announce that the spymaster of another court is now the lord of Autumn. They would put my head on a spike the same day.”

“I don’t expect anything like that. I don’t even want to be a lord.” Azriel tried to smile. “All I want is for you to be alive and safe. And if we can see each other every couple of months, in the forest at night, that’s enough for me.”

“That shouldn’t be enough.”

“Stop being such a pessimist.” Azriel said, pulling him to a hug, holding him until he smiled.

They walked to the edge of the forest, where Eris could winnow from. They didn’t want to let each other go, breaking the kisses only to fall back into each other’s mouths.

When Eris finally winnowed away, the forest air rushed into the empty space he left behind.

A soft smile lingered on Azriel’s lips. He missed his warmth already.

He turned around to look at the distant city lights of Velaris, sun slowly reaching the building from behind the mountains, bathing them in the warm light. The wind from the city swept over him, raising goosebumps on his bare hands. He folded them across his chest.

He felt so light and happy. He pushed away any creeping thoughts of the future that could ruin that. It was a beautiful day yesterday.

The waking city was so distant from his little house that he built, far away on a mountain. Little house where he could be happy. Where he could be in love.

He reluctantly let the thoughts of duty replace the warm haze. Today they would go to the Bog of Oorid in search of the Trove. His duties come first. Today, he is the Shadowsinger.

Another gust of wind swept over him, sending a shiver down his spine.

Azriel turned and went back inside to prepare for what was coming.

Chapter Text

Azriel still felt hazy and warm from the night before.

A cold shower didn’t change that. The heat inside him refused to fade, the echo of last night, of Eris’ honest laughter, the way his eyes sparked golden when he talked about the things that interested him, his warm touch.

He was in love.

It felt sudden to Azriel, the strength and certainty of the feeling. They had only just started talking again. But it was like an amber catching a sudden wind, something that had been smoldering in him for years, suddenly ablaze.

How stupid I was to push him away for so long. We could have had a hundred days like yesterday.

But duty called. He pulled on his leathers, fastened his blades, checked each siphon.

The Bog of Oorid. A corrupted, dead place that once was warriors’ water burial grounds. Nesta had managed to track one of the troves there. Brave little Nesta. He couldn’t help but feel protective over her, he knew himself how cold Rhysand could be when dealing with someone’s emotions. She would probably hate my compassion, he smiled to himself.

They all met at the House of Wind, preparing for the mission.

“There is no map of the Bog.” Rhysand said before they left. “It was forbidden to map it in detail by an ancient council of High Lords.”

Azriel wondered if Eris would have a map of it. He liked to collect ancient texts. He was probably in his court now, that arrogant smirk back on his face.

“Azriel. We need you to be focused.” Rhysand said to him quietly. “Cassian will be worried about Nesta. And rightly so. I can’t go with you, but you need a good pair of eyes to watch out. And a clear mind.”

Azriel blinked, forcing his mind to still. “Of course.”

His shadows swept them to the Bog.

The place felt wrong. The air was heavy, thick mist hovered above the ground, creating a claustrophobic feeling. No wind, nothing alive as far as the eye could see. A dead, wet wasteland, suffocating with stillness.

Azriel felt uneasy. He tried to stay composed for the sake of the other, but the truth was, he’d never been in a place so lifeless. But not empty — filled with a restless presence. The air was full of the stench of decay and a strange magic that made his Siphons buzz and his skin crawl.

Fog stirred to his left. Patterns in the mist, swirling and dancing. Movement.

Azriel crouched, stalking closer. Then he saw a group of men. He looked over his shoulder to signal Cassian and Nesta, but they weren’t there, disappeared somewhere in the fog.

He crept closer, until he saw Autumn’s uniforms. Then Eris’ emblem, faintly glinting on their torn armor. His heart jolted.

The group of soldiers was clearly broken by the Bog. Their clothes were torn, beards unkept, various gashes and marks made them look half-dead.

Eris will be so happy that I found his soldiers.

“I’m a friend. Don’t worry.”

The soldiers spun around as one — and charged. They threw themselves at Azriel, swords, knives, sticks swung at once.

Azriel backed away. “Stop! We’re allies!”

They didn’t stop. Azriel pushed away man after man. He drew his sword to parry the attacks. “Listen to me! I want to help you get out!”

The swords clanged, and he heard whistles of arrows around him.

“The nights are cold in Emberhall.” He shouted the code Eris had taught him, kicking one soldier back. “I have a seal — look” He tried to take out the enchanted earring, but words didn’t land, the soldiers were deaf to his voice.

He took to the air — sudden pain made him scream. An arrow shot through his wing. He crashed to the ground, the pain was unbearable. Blood gushed as he pulled it out — an ash arrow. A weapon like that could kill him easily.

“Cassian!” He yelled. Where the hell are you?

Two dozen soldiers charged at him from all directions as he tried to stand up. His siphons buzzed and he swung his sword, but more and more blades reached him. His leathers started to give way and blood mixed with dark mud.

The mists above them parted and a large shadow crushed to the ground.

With one swift move, Cassian cut two heads off.

“Are you all right?” He roared.

“I can’t fly. They have ash arrows!”

“Fuck.” Cassian spun around, cutting through the soldiers like it was nothing. “Why aren’t you fighting?”

“Those are Eris’ soldiers!” Azriel yelled, trying to push another wave.

Cassian’s head shot to him. “What the fuck is happening? Why are they attacking us?”

“We can’t kill them!”

“That bastard! That snake betrayed us. I knew we shouldn’t trust him!”

Betrayed? Could it be?

No, surely not… Eris wouldn’t.

Would he?

Azriel’s sword drove into the attacking soldier’s chest, hitting two others with the hilt.

He didn’t betray us. Not my Eris.

But how could he argue, if the proof was right before his eyes. They knew who he was. They knew about their deal. They knew.

It was a trap.

Is that why he was so sad when he was leaving? He knew what would happen to me?

He heard a faint laughter. He spun around. “Did you hear that?”

Cassian shot him a look, but it was impossible he heard that against the chaos of shouting, clinging of steel, grunts of pain.

But he heard a laugh.

Is Eris laughing at me? Or my twisted mind?

Azriel killed two more men. They fought like animals, not like trained warriors.

Is he watching from the sidelines as his plans come to be?

Rage and pain surged through him. He swung his sword, cutting through armor. It was so easy to fight them.

They’re mocking me now.

He swung his sword around like a killing machine he was, blood sprayed onto his face, mixing with tears.

His vision blurry, stars sparkled in his vision like specks of gold. More arrows hit him, but he didn’t feel pain anymore, only white hot anger. With a primal roar he slashed, slashed, slashed.

His wings dragged in the mud, unable to move them. The ash arrow slowed his healing, the wounds were not closing. He stumbled.

A soldier rushed him. Azriel drove his blade up through the man’s jaw. The soldier’s brown eyes widened, and stared at nothing as he slumped down. He was so young.

“Az, on your left!”

He spun too slow. Pain exploded across his ribs as a blade found a gap in his armor. He gasped, drove his elbow back into the attacker’s face, felt bones shatter. Cassian was there to push a blade between his ribs.

Cassian was a force of nature beside him. Fast, efficient, unstoppable. Everything Azriel was supposed to be. His red Siphons flared bright as he moved his blade like a paintbrush, covering everything in red.

He grabbed Azriel’s shoulder and lifted him up. They pressed together, back to back.

The fog was heavy around them and above, and they fought like animals in the cage. The soldiers didn’t back down, even though the Illyrians cut through them like cattle in slaughter.

They keep going at us. It’s not brave, it’s stupid.

Azriel looked closer. There was no fear in their faces. There was nothing but rage and a need to kill.

“Something’s wrong.” Azriel whispered. He looked at their eyes, glazed and glassy. “They are enchanted!” He yelled to Cassian.

Cold sweat drenched him. We’re slaughtering Eris’ soldiers.

He fell into Cassian, shaking his arms. “They are enchanted. Stop. We need to help them.”

Cassian had to push him away, just in time to parry another attack.

We’re slaughtering Eris’ soldiers!

“Cassian. Please.”

Only two men were left standing. They managed to bind them. Two men, out of dozens.

Two men, trashing, screaming, biting, roaring. Two men made out of pure fury, oblivious to dozens of their friends lying dead around them.

Azriel looked at the carnage they’d done, eyes darted over the horror, wide and trembling.

The world narrowed, he stopped feeling anything. He only heard the thump as his knees hit the ground. The pain in his wing, in his slashed body, in his leg, flooded him. There was so much blood on him, some his own, some his opponents.

Cassian shouted something, but Azriel couldn’t hear. All sound had gone muffled, as he knelt down in the field of Eris’ soldiers he killed. Without their fault. They didn’t know.

He wondered if they’d been aware, if some part of them had watched helplessly as their bodies attacked. He wondered if they felt hope when they saw the two Illyrians after wandering the Bog for weeks. He wondered if Eris’ spymaster lied there. Or the pieces of him.

The world seemed to collapse.

Cassian’s face appeared close. “Can your shadows take you and the prisoners away? I need to find Nesta.”

Azriel only nodded.

He didn’t remember leaving. But hundreds of years made his body go through the motions. He didn’t know how he reached infirmary. The pain was overpowering, he only now started feeling all the broken bones and cuts. He thought it’s still not enough, for what they had just done.

Someone gave him opium, he took it, grateful for the darkness that swallowed him.

Azriel woke up in pain. “How do humans do it? They just lay down for days after injury?” He groaned as he stood up.

“Pretty much.” Azriel expected a healer, but Rhysand responded.

Azriel stood up, stretched his wings and looked over cuts and bruises on him.

“They really got you.”

“There were dozens of them.”

“Cassian is in better shape.” Rhysand raised an eyebrow.

“He came later, and I was shot with ash.”

“Ah.” Rhysand nodded, like it was the answer he expected. “So it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that you didn’t want to fight your Eris’ soldiers?”

Your. Such a deliberate word. He looked around to make sure no one could hear them, movement making him groan in pain.

“There are two of them waiting for your interrogation.” Rhysand said calmly.

“There’s something wrong with them. I don’t know if torture would make them talk.”

“Maybe they’re in shock for being out there in the Bog for so long. We need to at least try to get some answers from them.” Rhysand stepped toward the door. “There might be more out there. And given Vanserra’s family history with Koschei—”

“What history?”

“You don’t know?” Rhys stopped and looked at him. “You know that Beron doesn’t come from the line of High Lords?”

“Yes, the Andrell family ruled before for a long time. Lady of Autumn’s family. But Beron comes from a powerful fae family too...”

“He’s a direct descendant of the fae who trapped Koschei in his lake.”

Azriel was shocked. “I didn’t know. How have I never heard of that? Does Eris know about it?”

“It’s not really a secret. It’s just not mentioned in any history book that was written in the last 700 years.”

Azriel’s eyes moved, as if searching his mind. “So what does that mean?”

“I don’t know if it means anything. But I’m surprised he hadn’t told you. Makes me wonder what else he's keeping from his... ally.”

Azriel blinked. He followed Rhysand out of the infirmary. “Where’s Cassian?”

“He and Nesta went to tell Eris what happened.”

Azriel froze. “I should be the one telling him.”

“You’re in no shape to do that.”

Azriel searched his eyes. His pulse quickened, he hadn’t yet considered that someone had to tell Eris.

“Maybe it will be better if it comes from them.” Rhysand offered. “Nesta is with him so they don’t kill each other.”

Azriel sighed as they walked to the black chamber in the Hewn City.

They entered a dark, circular room that smelled like iron and rotting meat. The steps went down to the center of the room, where the two males sat, bound and beaten. Their blood trickled down the grate below.

Azriel and Rhys walked down to them.

They showed no fear, no comprehension.

They looked so… Autumn. Copper and brown hair, pale, freckled skin. It made Azriel’s stomach twist.

“Do what you do best.”

Azriel’s eyes shot to Rhysand. “Look at their eyes. Look at their expressions. There’s nothing there.”

“So you shouldn’t have a problem cutting them.”

“They feel pain.” Azriel said flatly.

“We need to try everything we can. And we can’t be sure it wasn’t actually an ambush. Or if there are any plans they know about. Anything.” Rhysand started moving up.

“If they are under a spell, I’ll be torturing them for nothing.”

Rhysand stopped. “I hate to ask this of you, but the stakes are too high.” He leaned closer. “I start to wonder where your loyalty lies nowadays.”

Azriel looked him in the eye, shocked that this is what Rhysand thought of him. “You want me to prove my loyalty by torturing people?”

“Would you have this much apprehension if they weren’t Autumn soldiers?”

Azriel glanced at them, the sight of an Autumn uniform and red hair made his throat tighten.

Feyre and Amren entered the room. They stayed on the higher steps, looking down at the show that was about to start.

Azriel stepped closer to Rhys, and whispered. “My loyalty lies only with the Night Court, and always has. I can’t believe you would question it.”

“Then prove it.” Rhys said, stepping back up to join the rest.

Azriel sighed. Then he unsheathed the Truth-Teller.

It went on for ten minutes.

They all watched.

He made another cut, the man flinched, but there was no fear or recognition in his eyes.

Azriel glanced sideways at the audience. They would know if he made cuts that didn’t hurt. So he sliced where it did hurt.

His heart thrummed fast, but he focused and steadied his breath. He was the Shadowsinger, the torturer of the Night. He knew how to distance himself from it.

It was muscle memory at this point. A painting, a carving, a symphony.

His shadows coiled protectively around his shoulders, whispering consolation. You like carving wood. It’s just like that. Just carve them like wood.

He closed his eyes each time he brought the knife to the copper haired male’s face. He didn’t think. He just did what he was born to do.

“They must be under some sort of an enchantment.” Amren observed.

They all approached the men.

“Are you more willing to talk now?” Rhysand asked the prisoners calmly. “Why did you attack members of my court in the Bog of Oorid?”

Nothing.

“If they are under a spell, is it right to harm them like this?” Feyre asked.

“No, it’s not. Let’s stop it. We need to ask Helion to break this spell.”

Azriel’s face was unreadable, a stone cold mask protected him from the things he did. He let go of the Truth-Teller, letting it clunk down to the stone floor.

Rhysand moved towards the door. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly.

Azriel turned around to meet his brother’s eyes. But he was looking at Feyre.

“You shouldn’t have witnessed this.” He said to her. “I’m sorry for exposing you to this.”

Feyre shook her head. “We’ve all been tortured before, and I wanted to be here.”

He put a hand on the small of her back, and they all went out of the room.

Azriel stood there for a moment. Watched his bloody creation that sat in front of him.

I hope you’re not conscious. I hope you’re not afraid. He thought, looking at the men.

He looked into their vacant eyes. As much emotion was in there as in the eyes of his friends when they watched.

He couldn’t fly to his mountain house yet. He dragged himself to the city apartment, and stood in the shower until blood stained water ran clean. Poison was leaving his body, the gashes and wounds slowly healing. He should be fine in a day or two.

Nightmares terrorized him at night. The vacant stares of his victims. Koschei’s lake, drowning him, filling him with dread and terror. And Eris, standing at the shore with a knowing smile.

He looked at his reflection in the morning. He looked like shit.

Rhysand and Cassian were waiting for him at the palace.

“You look like shit.” Cassian said by way of greeting. “You’re still in pain?”

“The wing hurts. But I’ll be able to fly a short distance today.”

“How are you holding up?” Rhysand asked him.

Like you give a damn. Azriel glanced up without raising his head. He decided this question needed no answer.

“What’s wrong?” Cassian asked. “We’ve killed thousands of soldiers. You never mourn them.”

“How did Eris react when you told him?” Azriel just asked.

“He was pissed. Tried not to show it, but, well, he wasn’t happy. Are you worried he’ll turn on us? I don’t think so. He still needs us.”

Azriel’s expression was bleak. “We shouldn’t have done it.”

“I know. But we didn’t know they were under a spell. They’re soldiers. It’s not like we killed civilians.”

“Eris’ trusted soldiers…”

“Who cares about Eris.” Cassian smiled.

Azriel shot him an angry look. His brother tried to make him feel better, but it was damn hard not to punch him.

Rhys spoke before tension became too high. “Eris will understand.” He looked at Azriel. “He’s a rational male, he’ll know that you did what you had to.”

Azriel said nothing, but was grateful for the small bit of hope. It irritated him that Rhys was the only person he could talk to about Eris. But it was still better than nothing.

“We have the Mask now, and we’re going to try to break the spell the prisoners are under.” Rhys moved closer to Azriel. “You should take some rest Az. Go home, when you feel better go train with Valkyries.” He lowered his voice. “And give those matters some time to cool off.”

Azriel agreed. Confronting Eris now wasn’t the best idea.

In the evening, he managed to fly to his lake house. He did need to rest. Maybe nightmares won’t find him there, maybe the smell of Eris in his sheets would be enough.

The flight was setting his mind on the right track, even if his wings still hurt.

He looked at his house, seeing it in a new light. Eris was everywhere now. The way he leaned on the chair, the way he held the cup with both hands — burnt into his memory.

One night with him here and he’s all I can think about.

He was scared. Scared of seeing Eris again. As long as they didn’t speak, he could still hope. Eris was a rational male. He would understand.

He threw some logs into the fireplace. No fire wielder this time to spark the flames. This might have been the first, and the last time Eris visited him. Anguish tightened his chest, restless energy begging him to punch the walls, scream into the night. Instead, he took his axe and went outside.

Wood splintered beneath each brutal swing. Again and again the blade came down, long after the pile was more than enough.

Suddenly his shadows drew back to him, whispering warnings. He looked up. A figure moved in the forest.

His heart thrummed, he gripped his axe as a weapon, but he knew there was only one person who could seek him out here.

Relief flooded through him when he saw a hint of red hair. He was so happy to see him. A smile pushed at his lips as they moved closer. He tried to embrace him, but Eris took a long step back.

This wasn’t Eris in front of him. This was the Heir to the Autumn Throne. In his elegant jacket, head held high. Cold fury swirled in his eyes like flames.

“Eris…”

Though Azriel was larger, he wanted to shrink and withdraw under that heavy gaze. I should say something. He wanted to cry apologies, explanations. But he just stood, frozen, halfway between his house and the forest. It took effort not to bow his head under Eris’ glare.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out. “I’m so sorry for what happened to your soldiers.”

“What happened?” Eris drawled. ”You happened to them.”

“They were walking the bog half-minded. Half of them were already lost to the elements.”

“So you mercifully finished the job?” His voice was calm and cold. “You didn’t even inform me yourself.”

“I was injured. I took an ash arrow to the wing.”

A small flicker of emotion softened Eris’ eyes. He looked Azriel over. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I will fly.”

Eris sighed, glancing away as if searching for words.

Azriel motioned to the house. “Will you come in? We’ll talk about it.”

“I’m not coming in.” He inhaled sharply. “You were once gracious enough to tell me to my face that we’re over. I’m here to return the favor.”

Azriel started shaking his head. “Let me explain.”

“What is there to explain?” Eris’ voice was sharp now. “You killed and tortured my soldiers. My friends.”

Azriel went cold. “They attacked me and Cassian. I was defending myself.”

“They were your allies.”

“They attacked—”

“My trusted people. My best friend.” Eris cut him off. “You killed them, and you think I will forgive you?”

Azriel flinched. “You need to understand. I tried to reason with them. Tried to talk, to prove we’re allies, but they were not budging.”

“You killed the person who helped me stand up to Beron and be who I am. The person who was going to be my right hand when this is over. My best friend.”

“Then you will understand — I was protecting my friend too. They attacked Cassian. Of course I defended him, and you would do the same in my place.”

“The soldiers were enchanted, and you knew it, didn’t you?” He stepped closer. “Don’t tell me you fought soldiers. You slaughtered innocent people who couldn’t decide for themselves.”

“I didn’t know at first.”

“And you just thought my soldiers betrayed you? Because you knew they were my soldiers, right?”

“Yes… I knew.”

“I thought you were one of the few people in the world who knew me. Who knew who I am.” Eris’ head shook slowly. “And you thought I made an ambush to kill you. After everything we’ve been through.”

Azriel’s voice cracked. “What did you expect? You wanted me to die to prove my trust to you? You wanted me to let them kill Cassian and Nesta? You can’t hate me for choosing our life over your soldiers’!”

“So that’s it? The only choice? To kill or be killed?”

“Yes!” Azriel raised his voice. “I was surrounded, I couldn’t fly! There was no other way.”

“Would you have killed me too?” Eris asked quietly. “If I was with them, enchanted, attacking you?”

Azriel was stunned. Sudden silence was chilling. “No. I wouldn’t be able to kill you.”

“So you would let me kill you?”

Azriel started pacing. “I would find a way to restrain you and take you to question.”

“So there was another way!” Eris snarled. “You just didn’t feel motivated to find it!”

Azriel stopped. “We managed to take two men.”

Eris’ eyes went dark and cold. “Yes. I heard. I heard what happened to them.”

Azriel looked away.

“Why did you torture them? You knew they were not in control of their own bodies. You knew, didn’t you?”

“I suspected it.”

“Then why?” He took a step forward. “Why torture them? Do you enjoy it? Do you want to torture me too?”

“Stop it.”

“Do you like cutting people? Watching them squirm?”

“I was given an order!” Azriel shouted. “All right? I am a warrior, and I obey my commanders.”

“Rhysand.” He drawled with venom. “I bet he enjoyed it.”

Azriel said nothing, but was seething with anger and shame.

“You are, in fact, nothing but Rhysand’s loyal dog. He speaks, you obey.”

“I trust his judgement…” The words seeped slowly through his teeth.

“Then why do you always feel so guilty?”

Azriel just looked at Eris. He had no answer.

“If he’s such a fine ruler...”

“Shut up!” Azriel snapped. “You know nothing about it.”

“Rhysand has the fiercest defenders. I would think he’s some sort of mind manipulator if I didn’t know better.” He laughed. “But it’s just you, Night Court people. A bunch of mindless Illyrians.”

“Shut up!” Azriel’s voice rose. “You think you’re better than me? High fae on your high moral ground?”

Eris looked at him like he’d been slapped. For a moment, something hurt flickered across his face. “I’m better than you, but not because I’m high fae. Because I wouldn’t torture an innocent man.”

“I know for a fact that you would. If Beron commanded it.”

Eris’ jaw ticked. They glared at each other, both seething.

“I bet you have,” Azriel’s voice was quiet. “I bet you’ve done exactly that.”

Eris curled his fists. When he spoke again, his voice was controlled, but shaking. “I used to envy you that you escaped your abuse as a child and found your family. But you never learned to obey your heart first. You just found a new master.”

Azriel growled in frustration. “How can you not understand what I’ve done? How can you punish me for defending myself and Cassian? You’re so full of shit, you would do the same thing in my place.”

“I understand.” Eris’ voice was calm again. “As a political leader, I understand, that’s why this alliance still stands. Even though I’m sure that if roles were reversed, Rhysand wouldn’t be so forgiving.” He looked Azriel in the eye. “But how can I forgive you? You and I, we’re not just soldiers. We were more than that.”

“We are.” Azriel’s voice was desperate now.

“We were. Do you expect me to go to weeping widows and mothers and tell them that I’m with the man who killed their husbands and sons?”

“Is this about appearance? It’s not like anyone has ever known about us…”

“It’s not about that!” Eris raised his voice again. “You were supposed to be better! What good does your guilt do if you keep doing the wrong thing?”

Azriel was stunned for a moment. “I am better.”

Eris looked at him. His face was like stone.

“I am better than this.” Azriel’s voice broke. Don’t give up on me. We can… work it out.”

“How?”

“Eris.” Azriel took a step closer. “I love you.”

Eris scoffed.

Azriel took a step back. “You laugh at me?”

“You say things you don’t mean all the time.”

“That’s not—”

“All my life I’ve been trying to decipher what you mean beneath your words. You kept saying that you don’t want me. That you don’t care about me. That you’re disgusted and ashamed by the things we did.” He shook his head. “If I listened to your words, we wouldn’t ever be friends.”

“I… I mean it this time. I’m serious. I know it.”

“I think you always meant what you said.” Eris said calmly. “I don’t think you were lying to me. You mean it every time.”

Azriel shook his head, but he couldn’t find the right words.

“But there is one thing I know.” Eris continued in the same calm voice. “You will never choose me. You chose your court, and your lord. For the second time in a season’s span, you chose Rhysand’s orders, even if it meant losing me. You didn’t even try.” He paused. “I get it, I do. You’re loyal, that’s admirable. But I’d be a fool if I started to believe your words now.”

“But don’t you care about me too?” Azriel searched his eyes, his voice small. “Can you really walk away from me like this?”

“I can’t let you occupy my mind like that. You’re like a disease that has plagued me ever since I’ve met you.”

“So you don’t love me?” Azriel’s voice was quiet.

“Love?” His voice was sharp and bitter. “My entire life, everything I’ve built is crumbling, and it’s your hand that’s pulling the stones. And you only care about our romance?”

Azriel said nothing. There was nothing to say.

“I don’t want to see you again.”

Azriel shook his head. “You can’t mean it.”

“Just do me this one favor. Send Cassian from now on. Hating him is easy.” He paused. “Hating you… it breaks my heart.”

With that, he turned around and walked towards the forest. Azriel just stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to follow.

He forced himself back inside. The chair Eris had leaned on. The cup he’d held. Azriel sank to his knees before the cold hearth. His shadows offered no comfort, only silence. This was it.

Eris’ words repeated in his head, over and over, until a sob tore from his throat.