Chapter Text
Azriel
At first, he thought it was the shadows. He’d sent them after Eris some years ago, to spy on him. If they’d seemed more eager about the assignment lately, he wasn’t acknowledging it. It behooved the Night Court to keep an eye on Eris, his movements. He was a slippery bastard. It would be just like him to double-double cross his allies, and Azriel knew he needed to stay ahead of him.
What he had not anticipated was that the shadows would like visiting Eris. That they’d needle him when it had been too long since their last assignment, as if they missed him. Even now, they swirled restlessly, tugging at his wrists, his ankles, behind his ribs. He leveled a sweeping strike at a sweat-slick Cassian.
If his shadows sought Eris on their own, it was efficaciousness that motivated them, not affection.
You’re in denial, they whispered.
“Shut up,” he growled, dodging Cassian’s parry.
“What?” Cass was panting, Azriel easily wearing him out. He’d been too busy holed up with Nesta the past several weeks to train and Azriel was not about to go easy on him.
Cassian countered with a strike to his ribs, which Azriel dodged, more narrowly than he ought to have. Cassian swung wide.
“You’re off today,” he said.
Azriel landed a blow to his abdomen in response.
He was off today, and he knew it. He would not think of why.
Something tugged behind his ribs again, more insistent this time. The shadows skittered up and down his arms, between his fingers, curled into his hair.
Go to him, they whispered.
Azriel gritted his teeth. Another tug. Cassian landed a hit to his shin that made his eyes water.
What the hell was Eris doing?
A muscle ticked in his jaw as he reset, and cut a lethal strike to Cassian’s side. He dodged it, falling into his usual rhythm, a smirk curling his lips. The Lord of Bloodshed couldn’t be caught out for long, it seemed. Recently mated or not.
Another tug, this time accompanied by a flood of anxiety.
Is he alright? Find him. Help him. Is he alright?
He did not give a fuck whether or not Eris Vanserra was alright.
Liar, the shadows whispered.
Another flood of anxiety had him sweeping a leg out and pinning Cassian by his shoulders in a single, fluid movement. Every muscle in his body was taut, every nerve raw. Something deep and primal in him screaming at him to go, to protect.
He pulled Cassian to his feet, both of them breathing hard. Azriel’s shadows were restless enough that even he couldn’t make out their garbled whispers. Cassian cocked an eyebrow.
“On edge?”
Azriel didn’t answer, just stalked to the water table and poured two glasses. He handed one to Cassian and drew deeply from the other.
“What’s on your mind, Az? Talk to me.”
He’s worried about you.
Azriel huffed a sigh. He hated worrying Cassian, but what would he tell him? His shadows swirled impatiently, a few of them curling around Cassian’s ear as if to answer him themselves. But of course, he couldn’t hear them. He didn’t even seem to notice them. His eyes were still fixed on Azriel’s, waiting for a response.
Azriel ran a hand through his hair. “Eris, I think.”
“Eris?”
“I sent some of my shadows to watch him. I don’t know what he’s gotten himself into, but I think they’re worried about him.”
Cassian barked a laugh. “Worried about Eris? You never told me your shadows were so saintly.”
Azriel ignored the jab, even as something in him roiled at it. That was not something he was willing to probe too closely.
It had been weeks since Eris had called in his side of the bargain. Weeks of late-night scheming with the Autumn lordling in Rhys’s office. Weeks of taut anticipation. Every nerve ending in Azriel’s body was chafed raw.
The transfer of power to a new High Lord in any court was cause for trepidation. The fae, especially high fae, were unaccustomed to sweeping change, and the vacuum of power Beron’s death would create would be massive. Rhys might be the most powerful of the High Lords, but Beron was by far the oldest. His death would destabilize not only the Autumn Court, but all of Prythian, if they weren’t careful.
Cassian rolled his shoulders back.
“You know you can talk to me about anything.” Cassian said.
Az didn’t have to meet his eyes to know Cassian was giving him that look. The one that laid him bare as nothing else could. He trusted Cassian more than perhaps anyone else, even Rhys, though he’d never admit it. But Cassian saw right through him. He always had, since they were children.
“I know, Cass.” Another insistent tug behind his ribs had his hands itching into fists. “I think I need to make a trip to Autumn. Cover for me with Rhys?”
He did not wait for Cassian’s answer before letting the shadows carry him away.