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“There must be something we can do,” Feyre Archeron’s voice echoed throughout the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked bread loomed over the group, a once inviting odor now nothing more than a threatening presence. Elain Archeron had found her love for baking not too long after she had turned fae and bread was one of the fine delights she loved to get her hands dirty for. The delightful taste, however, was nothing compared to the sounds escaping Azriel’s mouth as he ate what she made. Elain hadn’t told anyone that she woke up extra early to set out and do this one thing for the spymaster, and he hadn’t told anyone that he woke up early too, to eat breakfast alongside Elain. Only Elain. It had been their stolen moment, their kept secret, and it made each day worth waking up for.
Just not today.
Today, Azriel hadn’t shown up. He hadn’t returned after his last mission. No one seemed to know why Koschei had taken the Shadowsinger over Rhys. Why he would choose to hold Azriel captive instead of the High Lord of the Night Court. Or why Rhysand had returned unscathed. No one had understood, except for Elain.
“There is,” she said, voice soft but not weak. Four sets of eyes turned to her.
“A vision?” Morrigan asked, her voice aloof. Rhys’ third in command hadn’t said a word all morning. There wasn’t a glimmer of hope in her eyes, were it not for the venom in Mor’s voice, Elain would have thought the third was mocking her. But she wasn’t. She was merely on edge, distant. Grieving. As if Azriel’s life were already lost.
Elain shook her head and turned to Rhysnad. “Koschei was clear in what he said, wasn’t he?” Elain asked Rhysand, who in turn tilted his head.
“That there wouldn’t be any offer I could make that he would accept,” Rhysand said.
“I knew I should have come along,” Cassian muttered as Feyre patted his arm sympathetically. Elain ignored his complaints, stepping to Rhysand, her eyes unwavering. For she knew that if anyone would get it, it would be him. If anyone would let her go, it would be Rhysand. Not Feyre, her sister who Elain loved dearly, nor Cassian, who would be doing so out of favor for Nesta. But Rhysand, who had always been patient with Elain, who had always been kind to her because he simply understood.
“That’s because he doesn’t want your offer. He wants mine” Elain said. Cassian stilled.
“What are you talking about?” Feyre asked. Elain smiled knowingly, though she didn’t shift her focus from Rhysand to Feyre.
“Koschei has been trying to reach me, he has been trying to get into my head. I didn’t think he had succeeded, because the visions never seemed to get past that shield,” Elain raised her finger to the side of her head, “up here. But, considering where we are now, it’s safe to assume he did. He got through, and now he’s gotten what he wants to lure me out.”
Rhysand tucked both hands inside his pockets, leaning against the kitchen table as he waited for Elain to reach the point she was trying to make.
“Koschei doesn’t just want a hold of my powers, he wants me. And in order to have me, he shall need Azriel first.”
“Why? What does Azriel have to do with this?’ Mor asked, eyebrows furrowed together.
Elain opened her mouth, but it was Rhysand who answered, “Because Elain would never truly be his. Not without Azriel.”
Elain nodded,, not ashamed of the truth that now lay bare before all of them. Feyre glared at Rhysand, undoubtedly in the midst of their own conversation. A tense silence settled over the group while the mates used their bond to discuss the matter privately. Each of them more than okay with waiting for the decision of their High Lord and Lady.
Cassian cleared his throat. “That doesn’t settle anything.. Even if it is for Azriel’s safety, we cannot give you to him. His needs hold no precedence.”
Elain’s smile was nothing but sweet as she looked up at the Commander of death and said, “Who said anything about giving me to him?”
“Elain I don’t think-”
“I am getting him back,” Elain said, voice quiet as the night. Rhysand stilled, as did Feyre. The unspoken words looming in the air before them, words neither of them dared to say.
So Morrigan did. “You might die.”
Elain only repeated, eyes set and voice unwavering, “I’m getting him back.”
End of the discussion. No one dared say anything, though they were studying her. Trying to see how far they could go to keep her from doing this, trying to decide if they should lock her up to keep her from going after him-
After a long silence, Rhysand asked, “How would you do so?”
Elain wiped the baking flour on her hands away with her apron.
“I’d start with retrieving Nesta’s Made dagger.”
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The darkness had never scared Elain. Not in the way violence and murder had, not in the way most men had. Darkness was a friend in those fleeting moments fright had overtook her, the darkness had hold her hand everytime Elain closed her eyes, everytime she needed to forget. The darkness had looked at her and had seen more than a pretty face, and when Elain had been in that cauldron, it had gifted her powers out of love. Not because of her honeylaced voice or charming smile, but because of her soul. The darkness had claimed her, and Elain had claimed it, too. Slowly. Overtime.
It was what made staying in the shadows easy, adaptable. It made her blend in, when she needed to. It caved a way for her silent feet to follow, to move from one place to another without alarming a breathing soul. It was the first trick she had learned herself, before Nuala and Cerridwin taught her the next. And the next. And the next. Until Elain had become as invisible as the darkness. Invisible enough for Azriel to not notice her whenever Elain snuck up on him. The first time, he had thought it was an accident. The second time, he had placed blame on the copious amounts of alcohol he and Cassian had consumed in their attempt to outdrink Rhysand. The third time, he had made his shadows follow her. So that when Elain had tried to do so the fourth time, Azriel had caught her wrist and had pinned her to the wall, her heartbeat quickening as she had looked up at him with rosy cheeks.
She would have kissed him then and there, had it not been for his offer. Train with me. He had said. His voice a husky whisper. Elain was shocked enough by the offer that she lost all thought of the strong hands pinning her to the wall. To learn the art of spycraft? To not be an Illyerian warrior like the one’s Cassian led, but to be quiet and invisible, like the quick-witted minds answering to Azriel. It was too good an offer to decline, though on one term only, and that was that nobody else could know. Not even Rhysand.
To her surprise, Azriel’s gaze had hardened at the mentioning of the High Lord’s name, and then he had agreed. They had started the next morning, and for weeks Elain had kept surprising him with the skills Nuala and Cerridwin had taught her. That was, until he picked up on her patterns, and had decided it was his turn to impress her.
She was a quick learner, an apt-pupil and an even bigger distraction. It was how Azriel had gotten caught by Koschei in the first place. He had heard her soft voice pleading, and unlike Rhysand, Azriel had answered the call for help.
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He sat in a cave near Koschei’s lake, one filled with torches that never seemed to burn out. His scarred hands were resting on his knees, eyes casted down. His beautiful large wings, lowered to the shadows of the cave behind him. Elain couldn’t tell if he was sleeping, or if luck had run out and she was doomed for something far worse. Azriel didn’t move once, not as she stepped into the prison cell, Nesta’s forged dagger burning a hole in the holster wrapped around her thigh.
She knew better than to make a sound. Illusions like the ones crafted in front of her would not waver, and if she made it too obvious that she knew, then their would have failed. If that happend, Rhysand was ready to come get them, but even with his overwhelming powers, it was not certain he would make it to them in time. So Elain knowingly stepped into his trap, carefully entering the cave, magic humming at her back as it sealed them in.
Koschei’s voice echoed throughout the cave, “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the smart sister, but I certainly wouldn’t have placed you beneath your illiterate sister.” Azriel’s illusion flickered and faded away. She did her best to at least act shocked, to let her lips waver as she staggered a step back, then another.
Koschei appeared in the cave, Azriel a few feet behind. Koschei’s smile was nothing short of victorious as he towered over her. Azriel’s eyes were filled with ten different kinds of fear, and then pure shock as his posture went from ridged to composed.
Koschei didn’t notice.
Nor did he notice how Elain had moved behind him, how her hands had quietly freed Azriel’s. How she wasn’t the girl standing in front of him, as Feyre tilted her head just slightly, a smile spread across the face she was wearing. The face of her older sister, the face of the seer. Elains face, her very own.
Elain slid her hand in Azriels, feeling his power thrum behind her as the magic dampening chains were now resting in Elain’s hand.
“Underestimating any Archeron sister has never done a male any good,” Feyre’s voice echoed throughout the cave, and Elain knew it was time.
She felt rather than saw Koschei’s shock at the female voice that did not match the face he so predatorily studied. His shock was gone a moment later, and he lunged for Feyre. But that moment had cost him, and Elain had already been moving to wrap up his hands, dragging Azriel along with her.
Koschei’s powers dampened instantly, though Elain knew it wouldn’t last. He staggered forward, hand stretched forward to grab her wrist and fear, pure fear clanged through her body as his hand clamped around her wrist.
Azriel was there instantly, freeing the shadows from his hold as they attacked the man who had damaged for far too much already. Koschei’s wrist broke free, right as Feyre hand latched onto Elains shoulder, pulling her free from Koschei’s grip. Azriel followed in tow, withdrawing his power slow enough for them to make the escape.
To reach Rhysand, who had winnowed in right at the moment they appeared outside. Azriel, weakened enough to not winnow on his own, held tightly onto Elain, as if afraid that she’d let him go. Rhysand grabbed her, and together the three of them made their way out right as Koschei’s power broke free of the dampening chains.
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Cassian was the first to reach them, followed by a heated Nesta who was far more furious than Elain had ever seen her.
“What were you thinking going out there-” Nesta started, but Elain only shook her head at her older sister and Nesta fell quiet instantly.
Azriel still hadn’t let go of Elain, but now shook off Cassian, who glanced at the pair in confusion. But Azriel no longer paid any attention to his brother. His focus had slipped to Elain. Just Elain. Whose face he was taking in with such intent that even she could no longer ignore his gaze.
“You came for me,” he said, voice raw with emotion.
Elain only inclined her head–and then his fingers were under her chin. Rhysand made to stop Azriel, only to have Feyre step into his path, nudging her mate aside. Elain didn’t see what happened next, as her eyelids fluttered shut. The heat of his body pressed closer to hers,, his hand moving from her wrist to her waist, the other caressing her cheek. Elain leaned in against the touch.
“I thought I was about to lose you,” Azriel muttered, his lips brushing against her skin.
“I thought I lost you,” Elain said in return, and opened her eyes.