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Chapter Text

“Wife,” he sneered.

“Husband,” she sneered back.

Azriel walked to end of the table and sat down, carefully adjusting his wings behind him.

“Glad to see that you are still alive,” he said, pulling the plate that his wife had already filled for him closer.

“Glad to know that I am still the funny one,” Gwyn replied without looking up from her own plate.

Morning greeting, checked. Daily verification that his partner was still breathing, checked. What was left to do before breakfast? Ah right... Check the food for poison. His shadows made a sweep around the table, ensuring that nothing would lead to him dropping sick or dead.

When he finally raised his cup of tea to his lips after their quick inspection, his eyes landed on a pair of teal ones across the table. Azriel internally shuddered at Gwyn’s piercing gaze and at how her lips turned into a feline smirk.

“It will happen when you least expect it,” she said, then dug a knife into her pancakes.

Azriel snorted. As if she could sneak past his trusty shadows. They might have an odd affection for her – unlike their master – but they were still loyal to him. Many believed that, being a Shadowsinger, Azriel had full control over his shadows. He refrained from letting others know that they also tended to have a mind of their own. Like the little wisp which was currently ignoring him and was slowly making its way between the bowl of fruit and the teapot to reach her.

Gwyn’s eyes followed the movement of the shadow until it reached her hand and started swirling around her fingers, especially the one adorned with a silver band – a perfect match to the one on his own ring finger – that glinted against her pale, freckled skin. Her smile softened for the shadow in a way it never did for him.

While she watched the shadow, Azriel watched her. The rich copper hair that was put up in a very messy bun atop her head with random strands that escaped and which fell around her face, her pointed ears where she wore several simple studs, her nose and cheeks across which lay a scattering of freckles, as if someone had tossed them with a careless hand, her plump lips, her eyes. Those bright eyes that had unsettled him from the very first time he had looked into them. A depthless teal ocean that often seemed like they could see straight through him. Gwyn was a creature of cruel beauty and Azriel hated her more for it.

When she looked up from the shadow playing with her hand, Azriel lowered his eyes to his food before she could see the thoughts that he always tried his hardest to hide in her presence.

“Is there something on my face?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, stirring his tea despite having added nothing to it.

“Well,” she went on, unable to stay quiet for long, as always. “What is it?”

“You look...” the shadows whispered an assortment of words though none that he was willing to use. Instead, he responded with, “...like you slept in a tree.”

Gwyn let out a snicker. “That would certainly be better than trying to sleep while listening to your pacing all night.”

It took him a few seconds to understand and none more to feel stupid about it. The endless pacing had nothing to do with the work he did at this hour and everything to do with him trying to focus while also attempting to block out the sound of her thumping heart and that of her mumblings while she slept. His office was right above her bedroom on the third level and he had selfishly never stopped to think that she might hear him walking around on the wooden floor when he could hear her too. He had tried to work in other rooms instead but the pestering of his shadows and their insistence to be close to her was even more annoying. At least in his office they shut up and contended themselves with spreading on the floor while listening to her.

It was the first time in the whole two months since they had been living together that she was mentioning it. Surprising of her since she often found something to complain about him. He did the same but, unlike hers, his complaints about her were at least justified.

“Some Spymaster you are,” she mumbled around a mouthful, “Not even able to walk without raising the dead.”

Azriel looked up at her and smirked. “I do it on purpose to piss you off.”

Gwyn swallowed her food. Her face remained impassive when she spoke again. “You do that well enough by just existing.”

He did not respond. He only held her gaze, risking getting lost in her ocean eyes, until footsteps were heard entering the dining room and someone cleared their throat.

“A letter arrived from the Prince of Autumn,” Roslin, their maid and one of the very few persons aware of the truth behind their union, announced and handed an envelope to Gwyn. Roslin had been Gwyn’s trusted maid when she lived in the Forest House. She was also a spy and had helped Gwyn with maintaining her second identity in the Autumn Court by covering up her secret activities. She offered Roslin her thanks with a usual friendly smile before the maid left the dining room.

“What is it?” Azriel asked, eyes narrowed on the folded paper that Gwyn took out of the envelope.

“Hopefully something that will get me as far away from you as possible.”

Her comment suddenly made him want to spend his entire day being as close to her as he could. Not because he liked her company whatsoever. Their shared mission already ensured that they spent a ridiculous amount of time together. Including sharing a house and attempting to look like an oh so happy couple in public.

“I’m afraid, dear wife, that no one can get rid of me so easily. Least of all you.”

Azriel had learned a great deal since they sealed their marriage two months ago. He obviously learned a lot about Gwyn. And, surprisingly, a lot about himself too, especially his patience and tolerance of her.

Gwyn placed the empty envelope on the table, picked up a little spoon and brandished it at Azriel as though it was a dagger. “I could kill you with this,” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m trembling,” he deadpanned. The shadows snickered around him.

He had always taken pride in his infinite patience. That was one of the qualities that made him the best at his job. But somehow, the female sitting across from him, reading her letter as if she wasn’t the bane of his existence, had found ways to challenge almost all of his skills, including his ability to remain calm under any circumstance, and also his ability to charm any female and male alike. That last skill would not be of much use anymore anyway since, to the rest of the world, all of it was now supposed to be reserved for Gwyn only. His wife. The one who made him lose his godsdamned mind in every possible way.

It was not as though he had ever seduced anyone in hope of anything more but a few hours of pleasure. His family thought that he refused to commit to a serious relationship, much less marriage, because his job was too dangerous to rope a potential partner in such things. Being the Spymaster and non-official torturer of his court made Azriel do things that most would cower to do and put him in dangers few were willing to face.

The reality was that Azriel did not want anyone to feel shackled to him. Although he had witnessed many successful relationships in his life, including the couples in his found family, his childhood had left more scars on him than those on his burned hands. He had witnessed what a monster his sire had been to his mother. For so long Azriel had feared that his resemblance to the cruel male might be more than physical. He feared that the beast he became when he tortured for the protection of his court might scare away a partner, or even worse, hurt them. So, instead of taking the risk, he preferred to block out the possibility of finding out altogether.

His several centuries as a spy might have made him an expert in the art of seduction, but he was empty handed when it came to true romantic feelings. Azriel doubted anyone with a bit of common sense would willingly stay with him if they knew how little he knew about love. Save for his family, the one with which he was related in every way except for blood, he had never let anyone close enough to his heart to feel such things. That was why he had been more than a little nervous when Rhysand and Eris had suggested this marriage, despite being aware that it was one of convenience. Imposed was a better word than suggested. Though even if Rhysand was his High Lord, Azriel could have still been opposed to his brother’s orders. But he did see the necessity of the situation, especially for Gwyn.

Since she was herself a spy, he knew that Gwyn had also seen her fair share of danger and blood. He knew what she also had to do to protect her court. Being from the Autumn Court and secretly acting with Eris against her High Lord for the greater good of Prythian, Azriel knew that her position had been more precarious than his. For Gwyn, this marriage was not just to keep plotting against Beron to put Eris on the throne. It was also to save her life. If the High Lord of Autumn found out that the lady who had lived in his home her whole life was a spy trying to bring him down, death would prove to be a small mercy for her.

For most, it might seem like their paths had crossed at one of the High Lord and Ladies’ meeting in Autumn, which also involved important members of all the seven courts and had fallen so deeply in love that they had been married in the same week. 

The truth was that they had met several times before that to exchange information about what Beron was up to behind closed doors. Gwyn was the one who Eris trusted to pass on information about his father’s secret plans. She had been like a beam in the night on their first meeting in a wood bordering her court. She had looked like she had been crafted by the capable hands of the Mother herself.

Gwyn had also looked like she was not happy at all with the new secret alliance between the Night Court and the Autumn Prince. Azriel had not been either. Even now, he was still suspicious of Eris’ true intentions when it came to this alliance. Azriel despised the arrogant Prince. He despised Autumn Court and anything that had to do with it. He had never wanted to work alongside one of them, but fate had apparently decided otherwise.

“I bet you would read that thing faster if it was smut,” he complained when she remained silent while her eyes kept going back and forth on the letter.

Gwyn looked up at him with another scowl. “Shut up and quit distracting me.”

With a flicker of her hand, she summoned a small golden flame that she then ran across the ivory page. She read the hidden message that Eris had left there for her before burning the entire letter along with the envelope.

“It’s an invitation from Eris,” she finally explained. “Autumn Solstice is being held at the Forest House in a week.”

Azriel cursed. As a former member, it was natural for the redhead to be invited to celebrate with the rest of her home court. But looking at Gwyn, he saw what she was not saying. This event would be their second, possibly last chance to get a hand on Beron’s plans and avoid a possible war, or at least prepare for an eventual one. Something else also shone in his wife’s eyes. A determination that this time, they would not fail. They should not. This marriage had been a last resort to hide Gwyn’s secret identity. It had been the only plan that Eris could come up with to get his cousin out of reach of his father before this one could start questioning her presence so close to his private quarters and start to suspect her.

“Well, my broody bat.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. Gwyn picked a bunch of grapes from the bowl and observed one carefully before popping it into her mouth. “I hope you’re ready to have some fun.”

“We’re going there on a mission Berdara. Not to party.”

Gwyn shrugged. “Who says one has to exclude the other.”

The two of them had different approaches to spying. Azriel preferred to keep to the dark. His shadows allowed him to remain unseen and unheard even in plain sight. He had always been the quiet kind of person, picking up clues by silently observing while his shadows searched for what was out of his reach. Gwyn, on the other, was the complete opposite. While she could also hide in plain sight, her talent was that of deception. She could have been a shape shifter with how easily she could adapt to and blend into any situation.

“How do you propose we do that?” he asked.

She pushed her empty plate aside and propped her elbows on the table.

“Well your shadows could signal us when the time is right.” She lifted the hand where a shadow was once again twirling in between her fingers and down her wrist.

“We’ll then pretend to sneak away to do what we were doing last time.”

Azriel’s fork stopped midway to his mouth. His shadows circled him excitedly, chanting their glee at Gwyn’s plan.

On the evening that had led to their current situation, Gwyn and Azriel were on a common mission to infiltrate Beron’s quarters to try and retrieve some incriminating documents about the High Lord of Autumn. These would have been the perfect proof to put Beron on trial for his actions against peace in Prythian. Unfortunately, a few wrong moves had led to them being caught where no one should have been. The only thing that had saved them then had been to act as if they had been a second away from having sex.

Azriel still remembered every single detail of it, from the very first second that Gwyn had grabbed his shirt and had pulled him down against her. He remembered how it had felt to have her in his arms, how her lips had moved fervently against his as if her life depended on it, which it did. If he closed his eyes, he could recall how her hands had felt as she had glided them across his chest, his arms, on his neck and the way she had tugged at the roots of his hair. How urgent those same hands had been when she had pull him closer by hooking a finger at the seam of his pants. The sounds she had made when his tongue had tangled with hers had been louder than the approaching footsteps of the guards. Perhaps it was in that exact moment, where his mission had shifted from those documents to her, that his shadows had started to become obsessed with her. More so than they had been since they started meeting for a few brief minutes to exchange information.

Everyone knew that Autumn Court faeries had fire in their veins. But only then had Azriel learned what the rumours were truly about. If a kiss that was devoid of feelings and which was only meant to fool the guards was like that, then Azriel did not even want to think about what a real kiss from her would be like. He refused to imagine it. The fake one had burned a big enough hole in him. Glancing at the Autumn female across the table, Azriel cursed her for having ruined every kiss he ever had before and certainly all others that he could have had if he was not bound to her.

“Or,” he proposed to prevent himself from spiralling deeper into their backstory and what it was doing to him. “We can just pretend to leave.”

Gwyn looked at him like he had said the stupidest thing ever. The last time he followed her lead had resulted in them getting married. What would happen this time? Would Eris find a random child that they would be forced to raise together to keep up their disguise? Azriel’s thoughts quieted when a shadow rushed from where it was hovering beside his left wing to remind him of what had prompted her to kiss him and he reluctantly agreed to the reasoning behind it.

He went on explaining the paths that they could take around the Forest House to avoid running into anyone if they followed his plan and how his shadows would help in the process.

“Well?”

He waited for her opinion when he finished.

“Huh? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

Azriel closed his eyes and sighed. Fucking Autumn courts and their fucking hard heads. Fucking wife and her fucking stubbornness.

“You come up with something then, smart-ass.”

She started to open her mouth but Azriel cut her off. “Something that does not involve fucking in Beron’s quarters.”

Gwyn huffed. Her cheeks started to turn pink, probably from the fire coursing through her and which seemed to run hotter at every outburst. “I wasn’t about to say that, you dimwit.”

Azriel gave her another roll of his eyes before returning to his food. Gwyn said nothing more. Yet by looking at her face, the emotions that he was still learning to read there, Azriel could see the gears of her mind working. She remained like this for the whole time that he finished his breakfast.

When he was done, he rose from his chair and walked to her. He grabbed her chin between his thumb and index and lifted her head until she looked at him.

“We have a week to come up with a solid plan. There’s no need to fry up your head over this right away.”

He suspected that she was worried about going back while there were still talks about her. Leaving the Forest House was not so simply done without a proper reason after all, especially for someone who had been raised there. Several rumours had already rose about the lady who had so hastily left her home to settle in the Night Court with the infamous Shadowsinger. His reputation in Rhys’ inner circle alone had fuelled the suspicions of more than one person, including Beron.

Azriel dragged his thumb along the seam of her lips, right where a trace of the syrup from her pancakes was still glistening.

“You’ll need that brain of yours to come up with more creative insults for me. The ones you currently have are terrible,” he added.

Gwyn brought a hand to the one that held her face. She slowly wrapped her long fingers around his wrist without looking away from his face. More pink spread across her cheeks and made her freckles stood out. Azriel badly wanted to know what she was truly hiding behind those eyes in this moment.

“Can you please do something for me, my dear husband?” her voice came out like a soft breeze singing in the night. Azriel had the reflex to stop his wings from twitching.

“What is it?”

He convinced himself that his breathlessness had nothing to do with that voice which was sweeter than the sticky syrup on his finger. Her hand tightened around his wrist.

“Throw yourself off a cliff,” she gritted out and forcefully yanked his hand away. Gone was the sweet, melodic voice. Her chair made a loud screeching sound as she pushed it back and stood.

Azriel held in a chuckle when she raised her chin and stomped off of the living room. “See you later, my annoying husband.”

He followed her as he made his way to his room. “Sure, my petulant wife.”

They went up the stairs and reached the door to her room first. Gwyn paused with a hand on the handle. “Don’t miss me too much, my haughty husband.” She opened the door and walked inside.

Azriel stood at the threshold of her bedroom with his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips. “You wish, my Autumn witch.”

Gwyn’s returning smile was as wicked as a witch’s. “I know you will.” And she slammed the door in his face.

Chapter Text

A week had passed and Gwyn was still as wary as she had been after receiving the invitation for the Autumn Solstice. This event would be the perfect opportunity to put a stop to the doubts that many members of the Forest House had about her. Making out with someone would have never raised any suspicion if it had not been in the southern section of the labyrinth that was this place. The only ones who went there were those who had exclusive access to the High Lord’s private quarters. Gwyn had seen many people entering these halls without ever walking out.

Luck – and Eris – had been on their side the last time. She doubted it would be again this time. That was why they would not fail again. She could not fail. She would not be useless again. Gwyn had dedicated so much of her life trying to prove to herself that she was more than sitting down for tea and looking pretty. She owed it to herself as much as she owed it to her twin.

She still felt the guilt of having let her sister die in front of her eyes. No one, least of all the High Lord, had taken her side when she had told them that the males who had attacked them in that clearing had been familiar faces that she had spotted around the Forest House a few times. Although Eris had had to keep his mouth shut and follow his father’s lead, he had proven his loyalty to the twins when he had killed all those who had touched them without anyone ever knowing that he was behind it. Gwyn was one of the few who knew who Eris truly was behind his arrogant mask. And that was why she returned every single bit of his loyalty.

Autumn was a male’s court. A court where females were either servants, or when they were born with a fancy family name like hers, toys and accessories. But that would only last as long as Beron sat on the throne. The High Lord did not know yet that his time was limited.

Gwyn wished she could do more. Being raised as a lady in the Forest House had been a major advantage for her ever since, after the loss of her sister, she had pestered Eris to teach her how to fight. It turned out that spying had been her calling in the end. Living there had given her the ability to observe and pick up on things no one thought a lady would notice. She had been in the heart of it all. But now, here, Gwyn felt like she was not doing enough.

“This will change tonight,’’ she told her reflection in the vanity mirror as she brushed her fingers through her loosely curled hair.

Gwyn had worked and schemed alongside her husband since she moved in his estate. She had also met with the Autumn Prince twice. Apart from that, the past two months had been spent training in the gardens of Rose hall, reading and trying to adjust to her new life as a wife. It was something she had never expected she would be.

Ever since that afternoon where she had lost Catrin, Gwyn had been scared that she would one day be shackled to a male who would claim her as his property. Reading about romance in books was one thing, something that could make her dream and wonder about how it could feel. But reality could be deceptive. Reality was scary.

Since she lost Catrin, Gwyn had feared the mere possibility of letting anyone close to her heart. She worried that anyone who did would see how emotionally broken she was. She doubted that anyone would stay with her if they knew how much love scared her. She might still have blood relatives in Autumn, but the only true love she had ever known was her twin. The two of them had stuck together since their mother’s passing when they were just little girls. The eldest and youngest of the Vanserra brothers had been the only ones who the twins had considered as friends even though they were distant cousins.

When she moved into her husband’s estate after having run away from her court, Gwyn had felt guilty for having drove Azriel into this situation. She had not meant to involve him in a loveless marriage with a female who had acted like a proper lady because she was either forced to or because she had used the title as a disguise. She had thought of apologising to him. However, every time she looked at him, Gwyn wanted to do anything but apologise.

A knock sounded at her door, followed by a, ‘’Are you ready?’’

‘’Almost,’’ she shouted.

She heard his exasperated sigh even from inside her room. “Can you hurry up?’’

‘’Can you fuck off?’’

Azriel muttered a few curses that she decided to ignore. Gwyn still did not totally understand why Eris had chosen Night of all the courts to ally with. Many creatures of Autumn were sketchy and cruel but at least they did not hide who they were by trying to pass for saints when everyone knew about the questionable things that happened in their court. She would not go as far as hating the entirety of the Night Court’s inhabitants. But the one she lived with was enough to make her blood boil on a daily basis. Just like he currently was by loudly walking back and forth in front of her door. Why did that male always do that?

‘’Can you wait downstairs instead of doing that? You are stressing me out.”

‘’Says the one who stresses me out all day, every day,’’ he mumbled.

She knew exactly what his face must have looked like as he said that. She might not be able to read his thoughts, but she knew her husband far better than she wanted to. She had expected to learn more about the male that she would live with. Though Gwyn had not imagined that he would imprint himself so deeply into her mind. Whatever she did, Gwyn could not escape even the thought of him. Azriel haunted her even when he was not in the room. His hazel eyes followed her in her dreams, the ghost feel of his hands on her brought her thoughts to places where she did not want him to wander. It infuriated her so much that sometimes, she wanted to push him against a wall and… punch him until he stopped doing what he did to her.

‘’I heard that,’’ she shouted again, although he would have heard her alright since she could hear him breathing right outside of her bedroom.

‘’Good,’’ he said louder.

Gwyn sighed. She often wondered if Azriel took pleasure in being so provoking. Probably yes. Saying that she did not – sometimes – enjoy doing the same to him would be a lie.

She ignored the occasional knocks and the complaints as she slipped her shoes and dress on. Gone were the traditional Autumn fashioned gown with their petticoat and endless layers of fabric. Most of the ones she had worn at previous solstices were red or brown. Instead, Gwyn wore a wrap dress of a blue as deep as the midnight sky of her new home. The thin silver and diamond necklace around her neck shimmered like the stars of that same sky, especially the crescent moon that rested between her cleavage. The fabric was a soft satin that delicately hugged her upper body and arms. It cinched at her waist before flaring out and cascading down her long legs. A slit ran up from her left foot to her mid-thigh.

It was the perfect dress to conceal all the weapons she wore underneath while also allowing her easy access to them. More than that, what she wore tonight would send the message that she was a member of the Night Court now. And with the Shadowsinger at her arm, no one would dare to openly question their relationship.

Gwyn walked towards the door after a final look in the mirror. She held her hands at her breast, keeping the fabric there to prevent it from falling down. She opened the door, finding Azriel right behind it dressed in a fine black suit with his wings tucked in tight, and turned her back to him where her dress was still open, down to the small dip right above her backside.

“Zip me up, please.”

Silence followed. Azriel did not say anything. He did not move either. She did not even know if he was still breathing. Gwyn turned around and raised a questioning brow at him. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Are you alright, Shadowsinger?”

Gwyn looked at the shadows – who she preferred over him – hovering around them. She silently wondered if something was wrong, if she had perhaps crossed an invisible line. She did not know how his shadows worked, but Gwyn had developed an odd connection with them. It was as though they could read her mind and provide their wordless answers through soothing touches. Like a response to her silent questions, she felt their cool caress against her bare back and on her face. Hopefully they would not ruin the makeup she had carefully applied there.

The giggle that she failed to keep inside when one tickled her neck seemed to snap Azriel out of his trance. He shook away whatever had made him pause and brought his hands at her waist. The fabric of her dress hid not even a inch of his scarred hands and made her gasp as he turned her back around. Gwyn bit her lip to hold in whatever threatened to come out of her mouth when his fingers brushed her skin to push her hair aside.

She closed her eyes as he pulled her zipper up and prayed for him to just be done with it. Curse him and his hands. Curse Azriel and what he did to her. Curse everything about him.

Gwyn quickly adjusted the front of her dress when Azriel was done. With a deep inhale, she breathed some common sense back into her body. She breathed until the fire coursing through her simmered down to a small flame instead of the inferno that a few callous fingers had erupted in her.

Curse his touch for stoking her fire. Curse Azriel and everything about him.

When she faced him again, Gwyn’s irritation at him morphed into something else. She could not name what was his expression meant. All she knew was that the softness and awe in his eyes – something that she had never glimpsed so strongly from him – scared her.

“You look...”

Her heart pounded as she waited for another one of his stupid assumptions. But the one he offered sent more fear through her and caused goosebumps to erupt all over her.

“...Beautiful,” he whispered.

Words evaded her. All thoughts evaded her. Gwyn stood there, not knowing what to say or do. She knew how to tease Azriel. She was even better at getting on his nerves. But she did not know how to react to this, whatever this was. So she let the first thing that came to her mind flow out of her mouth.

“You too.”

In the silence that accompanied the blushing of Azriel’s cheeks, Gwyn could have sworn that she heard faint, soft voices, like the distant humming of a song. But no one was present save for them and his shadows. The wards around the estate would have alerted them of any intruders and Roslin had already gone to Autumn to celebrate Solstice with her own family.

Speaking of Solstice, Gwyn blinked back into the present. She wrapped her hands around Azriel’s forearm and pulled him down the hallway.

“Let’s go before we miss the party,” she said, grateful that she could still form coherent sentences.

“The mission, Berdara,” he corrected.

She flicked a hand in the air. “Yeah, same thing.”

Although she had returned to a somewhat normal state, the fear that had dug itself under her skin earlier like an arrow was still there. Gwyn wanted so badly to yank it out. But it remained. And with every touch and every glance exchanged, that arrow twisted and embedded itself deeper inside her.

Chapter Text

Returning to the Autumn Court after two whole months of being away did not feel as Gwyn had expected. The scents were the same, as were the colours. Even with the extravagant decoration of the grand ballroom and the abundance of the feast laid out for the celebrants of Solstice, everything here was still familiar. Yet something felt utterly different.

Perhaps having been used to living at Rosehall estate in Night was the reason why returning here had not felt like coming back to her home. Or perhaps it was the eyes turned on her that made her feel different, like she was an outsider in the court that she was born and raised in. One pair of eyes in particular had made Gwyn clung to her husband’s arms like a vice ever since they had stepped foot in the Forest House.

Catching the attention of the High Lord of Autumn was never a good omen, especially for a female. It was worse when Beron looked at someone like he had unfinished business with them.

“Can you look a little more tense? I don’t think it’s noticeable enough how nervous you are right now,” Azriel muttered, his lips so close to Gwyn that it brushed the tip of her pointed ear.

She pinched his arm hard, hoping that it would leave a nasty bruise underneath his clothes. Azriel’s free hand moved at the speed of light to pull hers away from his arm. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, but not before he bit one of her fingers hard enough that she had to suppress a yelp.

“Focus on me. Not them.”

Gwyn held his gaze as he spoke. The shadows brushed her cheeks and offered her some comfort. The strange fear Azriel had injected in her earlier suddenly felt like a welcomed distraction from everything around. She took slow and deep breaths, using his hazel eyes as an anchor and focusing on the whirl of feelings it brought her. She hated that she could not pinpoint what they were – dread, concern, more things that she could not name – yet all of it felt better than facing whatever was not him.

“I think I might throw up,” an approaching voice pierced Gwyn’s bubble of confusion.

“Eris,” Gwyn smiled at the male who strolled towards them with his hands in the pockets of his impeccable green and gold jacket. The warm lighting around the room danced in his red hair and made the colour akin to the flames that the Prince wielded.

“Gwyneth,” Eris smiled at her when he reached them. That smile lost all of its warmth when his eyes landed on the Shadowsinger. His head dipped in a small bow. “Azriel.”

Azriel returned the gesture with no words. One of his hands wrapped around her and settled on her waist. Gwyn convinced herself that the sudden burst of heat that ran through her and the way that her heart picked up in speed was only because all of this was new and unexpected. She resisted to urge to think deeper into it because she knew that her mind would make things worse by imagining things that she should not.

“Congratulations on your wedding,” Eris drawled as if he was seeing her for the first time since, his eyes roaming over the pair.

Gwyn thanked the Prince. She had learned a lot from him about keeping up appearances and how to be someone else when the circumstances required it. It was impressive how Eris could act just like the others around the room with his probing looks at them and the curiosity that shone in his eyes.

Although it disturbed her from the others, Gwyn did not mind it when it came from Eris. The silent questions in his expression as he looked at the hand Azriel was tightening around her waist and the one she had placed on his chest might have been real, but it all helped in solidifying their image.

Her husband however did not seem to appreciate Eris’ wandering gaze. The shadows stayed closed to their master like snakes ready to attack at the first offense. A low growl rumbled from Azriel’s chest as his hazel eyes narrowed on Eris. A smirk slowly spread on the Prince’s lips, making him look as evil as his father.

“Stop that,” Gwyn gritted out behind a smile at the two males.

Neither of them backed down from their staring match. Gwyn’s hand tightened into a fist on her husband’s chest. She shifted until her foot not so accidentally stepped on his. The low heel of her shoe pressed on the tip of his black one.

“It’s not a pissing contest, so both of you stop.”

Azriel pinched her side hard until Gwyn finally lifted her foot. He looked down at her with a smile that made the fire inside her run hotter.

“Of course it’s not sweetheart. It if was, I would have won.”

Eris’ chuckle could only be described as derisive.

“Don’t flatter yourself, my dear.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed her husband on the cheek. “You’re not that scary,” she added when she pulled away. She could have sworn that a blush warmed his face more and more the longer she looked at him.

Eris laughed louder, causing some Fae to look in their direction.

“It seems someone has finally managed to tame your brutish side, Shadowsinger,” the Prince said.

Gwyn’s head whipped towards her cousin and gave him a slight glare. “Don’t you dare take that tone with my husband.”

The Prince lifted a brow. Azriel pulled Gwyn even closer while smirking at him. Before the pissing contest could begin again, the loud clashing of cymbals resonated around the room, announcing the traditional song of harvest played at every solstice.

Eris offered his hand to Gwyn with a low bow as an invitation to the dance all faeries of Autumn learned as soon as they could walk.

Gwyn looked up at her husband without knowing what exactly she was asking of him. Azriel kissed her forehead and slid his arm away from her. She had not realised how warmed she had felt in his arms until she stepped away from him and followed Eris towards the other dancers. It had been an odd sort of warmth, Gwyn realised. Different from the ones caused by her fire. It was new and puzzling to feel that way, especially because of Azriel.

The dancefloor seemed to part around them as Eris expertly led her through the dance. Her feet followed the Prince’s on instinct, each movement so natural that no thought was required. That was a good thing since her body might have been here, but her mind was still stuck with her husband.

Focus on me, he had said. Gwyn forgot about everyone in the room, including the High Lord who still occasionally spared a few glances at her. She only focused on Azriel who looked at her from across the room.

She made small talk with Eris while they danced, each of their words heavily hiding things that could not be said out loud, lest the mission she was on tonight ended before it could even start.

Through it all, she remained so focused on Azriel that she did not need the shadows turning her head in his direction to notice someone approaching him. The brown-haired female, Clarisse, was a lady that Gwyn knew well. They had often attended garden parties together with the Lady of Autumn and the other reputable females of the court.

Gwyn kept dancing but her eyes were glued on the one who had been the first, beside Eris, to seek any conversation with them since their arrival. None of the others had dared approach the couple before, preferring to whisper about them instead. 

The shadows which usually surrounded Azriel had retreated behind his large wings, allowing the other female to stand close to him without fear while also giving Gwyn a clear view of their interaction. Every smile and exaggerated blink that Clarisse gave Azriel made Gwyn tense. This female could ruin their image if she did not do anything. She released a sigh of relief when the final notes of the song finally approached.

“Excuse me,” Gwyn said when Eris pulled her close with a hand on her back for the last twirl, “But I have important matters to attend to with my husband.”

Eris’ brows raised with clear amusement.

“You mean interrupting your lover’s conversation with this female?”

Gwyn was so stunned by the term lover that she had no words to respond to that. The thought alone was so...vexing. She huffed. “I mean plotting the demise of your father, future High Lord,” she whispered so that only him would hear.

The song ended and Gwyn curtsied to her dance partner. When she looked up at Eris, the Prince smiled and wiped fake tears from his dry eyes. “I taught you well,” he said.

“Gods, you are such a drama queen,” she replied with a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head.

As gracefully as she had danced, Gwyn glided between the crowded dancefloor towards Azriel. The moment she reached them, Gwyn inserted herself in the space between Azriel and Clarisse and wrapped both arms around her husband’s waist.

“Hello again, my dear,” she said to Azriel. She might have batted her eyelashes too.

All the shadows left their hiding place behind their master and started circling Gwyn. Azriel cocked his head and looked at her as though her hair had suddenly turned black. He then uncrossed his arms and brought them back where they should be, around his wife.

“Hello again, sweetheart.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Gwyn knew that the heat creeping up her face was causing her to blush. Just for this time, she told herself that it was a good thing since everyone was watching, especially the female who stood there.

“Lady Gwyneth,” Clarisse greeted her with a half-smile.

Gwyn turned to her with a hand on her chest as though she was only noticing her presence.

“Oh hello. Lady Carla, right?”

“Clarisse,” she corrected.

Azriel snickered. When she looked up at him, Gwyn saw him pursing his lips to suppress a smile. She honestly did not know what he found funny in this situation.

“Have you met my husband?” she addressed Clarisse again.

“I was just making his acquaintance.”

Clarisse smiled and looked up at Azriel. It frustrated her that he returned the female’s smile. He was ruining their ruse with that damned smile. Gwyn cleared her throat, causing Clarisse to lower her eyes at her. 

“The Night Court is treating you well Gwyneth.”

Gwyn wrapped her arms tighter around Azriel and rested her head on his chest. “Well, my husband treats me even better.”

Her grin turned wider when Azriel kissed the top of her head. “Liar,” he whispered against her.

“My husband is an exceptional male.”

Exceptionally annoying and infuriating. Exceptionally handsome too judging by the googly eyes Clarisse was sending his way as though Gwyn was transparent.

“I’m sure he could make any female happy,” Clarisse said.

“Well, he is all mine now.” Gwyn lifted her head at him. “Isn’t it right, husband of mine?” And her eyelashes fluttered again.

Azriel leaned down until his lips brushed her ear. “I think she gets that I’m your husband, wife.” His low voice was laced with mirth.

“Do you get it?” she gritted out.

Clarisse’s eyes went back and forth between them. Azriel nuzzled Gwyn’s neck and whispered again, “I didn’t know you were this jealous, sweetheart.”

Instead of punching his face in front of everyone, Gwyn laughed at how ridiculous he sounded.

“My husband is a funny male too,” she added, looking at Clarisse.

Azriel grabbed her chin and made Gwyn look back at him. “Not as much as you, my love,” he said with a smug grin.

Curse him for making her blush so easily. Curse him for being so damn good at pretending to be in love with her.

A bell chimed 10 o’clock somewhere around the room and announced the time that the guards would change their shift. Eris had informed them that it would be done more often than usual to ensure that all of them could be fully aware at all time and avoid that anyone slacked while on duty.

It was time for Azriel and Gwyn to move as well. But there were too many eyes on them, starting with Clarisse’s. Gwyn wracked her brain for a minute until an idea hit her. She opened her mouth and faked a yawn.

“My apologies,” she smiled and said bashfully, “I am getting a little tired already.”

Azriel tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Would you like to go home, love?”

She pretended to think it over for a few seconds before she nodded. “It has been a long night.”

He took one of her hands in his larger one. “Would you mind waiting a minute? I need to use the washroom first.”

Gwyn nodded again. “Let me show you where it is. This place is a literal maze. I don’t want you to get lost.”

Azriel turned towards lady Clarisse and offered his goodbyes. Gwyn wanted to roll her eyes at the way the female blatantly sighed. She pulled on their linked hands and led Azriel right outside the massive door of the ballroom until they reached an empty hallway.

“We are changing the plan,” she said as soon as the shadows surrounded them to block any visible and audible sign of their conversation.

Azriel crossed his arms and lifted his brows. “Since when are you in charge?”

“Since I realised that the plan you suggested is shit,” she hissed. “There’s too many eyes on us. We can’t go together.”

“Gwyneth –“

“Don’t call me that,” she stomped her foot down.

He narrowed his eyes on her and huffed in annoyance. “That’s your name.”

Gwyn crossed her arms and pouted. “I know but it sounds like you are scolding me when you use it.”

Perhaps all the pet names were a bad thing after all. Azriel closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. She knew that the look on his face meant that he was running out of patience.

“Gwyn, wife, light of my life, the possible cause of my early death...,” he removed his hand from his face and looked down at her again with a heavy sigh.

“Let’s just get the damned thing and get out of here then.”

Gwyn exhaled a hard breath. It was her turn to ask the Gods for the patience to deal with this male.

“I can’t be waiting for you here while you are supposed to be in the washroom,” she explained. “This is not my home anymore in case you forgot and people here are already treating me like I had been exiled. Wandering outside the party will only feed the rumours that I’m being sketchy. I have to wait for you in there,” she pointed towards the door.

Azriel pondered on it for a second too long. They were running out of time.

“Fine,” he finally replied. “I’ll get in with the shadows and meet you back inside.”

“Fine.”

He would do what he did best, as would she. She would remain in plain sight, keeping up the appearances, while he would sneak inside Beron’s quarters and retrieve what they came for.

They nodded once to each other. Gwyn started to turn in the direction of the ballroom but suddenly stopped. She grabbed Azriel by the wrist before he could even make the first step forward.

“Be careful. Please,” she said in a breathy voice.

Although she would never tell this to his face, she knew that Azriel was smart and strong. He was more than capable of doing this. But still, a pang of guilt hit her at the thought that she was making him go there alone.

He lifted their hands. His eyes remained locked on hers as he placed a kiss on her wrist, on the pulse point right below her palm.

“You too. A shadow will remain with you.”

One of the shadows that surrounded them immediately rushed towards her and wrapped around her forearm like a bracelet of smoke.

“You better not make me a widow tonight, Shadowsinger,” she warned him.

He walked towards her until he stood so close that she had to lift her face to look at him. “Never,” he said with another one of his smug grins. “You will never get rid of me, my dear wife.”

Gwyn wanted to get rid of that grin so much that she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him close enough for their lips to almost touch.

“Then come back to me, husband.”

With these as her parting words, she turned around and walked to the ballroom. The party had somehow turned even more animated with more pairs on the dancefloor and the chatting around the room having increased with everyone starting to become slightly intoxicated.

She found a corner close to a group of females. She had not notice that Clarisse was among them until the female called for her.

“You are back already?” Clarisse asked without hiding her disinterest.

Gwyn smiled at her in a way that she hoped would make her look tired. “I am waiting for my husband. We will go home in a few minutes.”

One of the ladies - whom she had forgotten the name of – took a step forward and asked about Gwyn’s home. She took that as an opportunity. And for the next minutes, she stood among the ladies of Autumn and vaguely answered to all of their probing questions about her new life. Their curiosity ranged from the colours of the carpets of Rosehall to things that she quickly had to make up in order to convince them that she was having a blissful time with her new husband.

The talking made her less nervous as she waited for Azriel. And waited. And waited. She forced herself to keep her eyes on the people in front of her instead of glancing at the table where the High Lord and his family sat. She also forced her mind to remain positive instead of thinking about whatever Azriel must be facing.

The shadow at her wrist started swirling frantically after fifteen minutes, though it felt more like fifteen hours.

She looked at the door and found Azriel strolling in with his shadows lazily hovering around him. He looked as impeccable as he did before, except for the black jacket that he had removed and was now carrying on his arm. Looking more closely, she realised that something was odd about him. There was a slight wince on his face that was not there before. Gwyn bid goodnight to the ladies and walked to her husband.

“Ready?” she asked when she met him halfway.

The smile he gave her seemed pained. It made her worry.

“Let’s go.”

He kept the arm with the jacket close to his middle and guided her outside with his free hand on the small of her back. The walk outside of the Forest House was quick and silent. They did not even talk when he took her hand and winnowed them to Rosehall.

The moment their feet touched the grass of their garden, Azriel let go of his jacket and gritted out a, “Fuck.”

The fabric of his black shirt was soaked on the right side of his lower abdomen. Gwyn realised with dread what it was when Azriel pressed his hand there and red coated his fingers. It was blood.

Chapter Text

The front door of their home burst open with a loud bang after Gwyn kicked it with her foot.

“You better not die, Shadowsinger, or I will bring you back and kill you myself,” she gritted out, one hand wrapped around Azriel’s middle and the other applying pressure on his wound.

“You are so good at encouraging people to not die, Berdara,” he said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

Gwyn guided him towards the dining area where he remained standing against the large table. With a snap of her fingers, several candles lit up around the dark room, along with the fireplace which started so abruptly that it made Azriel flinch. She walked out of the room and came back a few seconds later with a first aid kit that she was already rummaging through.

“You should have been more careful,” she scolded him like he was a misbehaving child.

Azriel would have rolled his eyes again if it had not made slightly dizzy the first time.

“It’s not like I willingly walked into the guy’s blade.”

After removing some items out of the box and placing them next to him, Gwyn brought her hands at the collar of his shirt. With an urgency that he had never seen from her, and without even bothering to ask him first, she pulled the garment apart. The buttons of his shirt flew across the room to gods knew where. Her bright eyes widened when they settled on the cut on his lower abdomen.

“There is so much blood,” she pointed out loud.

“Really? I didn’t notice.”

That remark earned him a scowl from his wife. She looked at the wound again and press her fingers around it.

“Are you in pain?”

Azriel winced. “Yes, and you’re making it worse.”

She removed her hands with a quick apology before opening the slit in her dress wider and pulling out a small knife from a holster at her thigh. The sight instantly made him forget about the pain. But it came back when she soaked a piece of cloth that she had cut with the knife, and pressed it against the wound. It stung so much that his grip tightened on the edge of the wooden table.

“There, there, my big tough husband. You’ll be fine.”

There was something about her – a tremor in her voice and a slight trembling in her hands – that made him wonder whether she was more concerned about him than he was about himself. Even his shadows, despite being agitated, were less fussy than her.

“I thought you would prefer if I died.”

Gwyn paused the cleaning of his wound to spare him a glance. “Not if I’m not the one killing you,” she mumbled and resumed her task.

Azriel chuckled but hissed when Gwyn poked his side with a finger. “Stop moving.”

A loud thud resounded around the room. Looking behind him, they noticed that the shadows had dropped everything he had taken from Beron’s office – a heavy book and several rolls of parchment.

“Well,” he motioned towards the items, “Aren’t you going to have a look?”

Gwyn placed the bloodied cloth on the table and grabbed a tin of salve. The scent of sweet almond and peppermint wafted to his nose as soon as she opened it.

“You think I care about this when you are hurt?” she said with a huff.

Azriel stilled, as did his shadows. Her next words were filled with so much guilt that it felt like he was being stabbed once again.

“I should’ve gone with you.”

The shadows left him to circle around her instead. They brushed her cheeks and neck, as though they were comforting her. He did not mind that they were even if he was the one injured. It was not the first time that he had seen them doing that. It had also happened earlier tonight. But he was puzzled as to what might be triggering this reaction from her.

“Hey,” he grabbed her cheek and lifted her head so that she could look in his eyes. The wetness gathering in those teal oceans made him stop. The onslaught of emotions that swirled in them stirred something in him. He did not know what it was. He only knew that it was something only Gwyn could cause in him. It felt like that melody his shadows liked to hum around her, just like they were doing now.

“I’m Illyrian Gwyn. I will heal soon,” he explained, pouring every once of reassurance that he could in his eyes as he stared at her. She stared back at him, probably looking for the truth in his statement. When she found it, she exhaled a breath with the barest hint of relief.

Gwyn averted her gaze and went back to applying the salve over the wound. They spent the next minutes in complete silence while she retrieved a bandage from the kit and carefully applied it on his abdomen.

“And here I thought you were more skilled than this,” she finally spoke when she smoothed her gentle fingers on the bandage one last time.

“I got…distracted.”

There was no way that would tell her the truth about how he had managed to get injured. He would not risk uttering those words, for her to then use them as a weapon against him. Gwyn stiffened where she was putting the supplies that she had used on him back inside the box.

“Does it perhaps have something to do with the lady who was making moon eyes at you?”

What? he immediately thought and said as much. “What?”

Gwyn’s answering laugh lacked any sort of humour. “Please Shadowsinger. I’m neither blind nor dumb.” She went on arranging everything inside the box, taking the time to organise some things that were already in perfect order. “My apologies for ruining the moment by the way.”

Again, Azriel thought what? The shadows all whispering in his ears at the same time only helped in adding to his confusion.

“But I would have preferred if you had avoided that when we were there.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I am talking about the fact that you, Spymaster,” she said firmly and closed the box with more force than necessary, “could have ruined our plan because you were distracted by her. You could have gotten yourself killed as well,” she motioned towards the bandage peeking through the shirt that he still had not removed.

If only she knew that his only distraction had been her. It had been the thoughts of her alone in that den of foxes that had led him to being unusually sloppy. But more than that, he had been unable to stop thinking about everything that had happened since she had emerged from her bedroom looking like the most mesmerising siren. The way she had batted her eyelashes at him, how she had so freely thrown herself in his arms to push away the other female, the sound of her voice as she had claimed him as hers.

All of it had puzzled him as equally as it had thrilled him. And when he had walked past the hallway where their lips had first connected, Azriel had found himself wondering what it would be like if all of it was real – the kiss, the possessiveness that she had displayed, all of it. Gwyn could fool anyone with the flash of her radiant smile, and this time she had succeeded with him too.

He had been so caught up in his delusional thoughts that he had not been attentive enough when the shadows had warned him of the male inside the room. He might have been taken by surprise when the male had thrown a dagger at him, but he had fortunately been able to deal with him quickly enough without alerting anyone else.

Gwyn was wrong about the cause of his distraction. And looking at her talking so confidently about things that she knew nothing about infuriated him. She was the reason that he had not been able to focus. She was the reason that had led to him being injured. She was the reason why he had almost failed at his task. Nothing had ever distracted him so much as she did. Her. This...this Autumn vixen, this unwitting temptress, this daughter of heaven and hell.

“You don’t know what you are talking about,” he muttered under his breath.

“Excuse me?” she said, throwing the bloodied cloth she had cleaned his wound with in the fire.

“You have no idea what all of this is doing to me.”

Azriel turned around and braced his hands on the edge of the dining table. His head remained lowered as his shadows circled him, trying to bring him the same comfort they were still providing for Gwyn.

“You think I am happy with this whole thing?” she asked.

From the corner of his eye, he saw her opening her arms and gesturing at nothing in particular.

“You are the reason why we had to do this,” he accused.

“Wha-”

“If you hadn’t kissed me that night,” he said, trying to keep the memory at bay and pathetically failing.

“I didn’t hear you complain about it then. In fact, the only thing I heard from you was your moan as you stuck your tongue down my throat.”

Her voice became louder and louder with every statement she made. Azriel ran a hand through his hair and pulled at the roots. Each one of her words was driving him even more mad and made him shout too.

“I was just playing along,’’ he lied. ‘’It was… it was…”

“It was either that or we both would have died,” she reminded him.

Azriel closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. He gripped the table so hard that it almost splintered in his hands.

“This whole thing already feels like a slow death,” he admitted, voice so low that he doubted that she heard him. But the small gasp that she let out indicated that she had.

“Every second I spend in your presence makes me feel like I’m on the verge of death,” he went on.

Gwyn released a disbelieving sigh, followed by a sardonic laugh.

“Well. I’d like to return the compliment,” she said.

Azriel turned his head to the side and frowned at his wife. “Is this a joke to you?” he wondered out loud.

Gwyn stood with her head held high. She returned his challenging stare with one of her own. But Azriel saw the gulp that she failed to conceal. He pushed away from the table and slowly walked until he stopped a step away from her.

“You have no idea what you put me through.”

He took one step forward. She took one back.

“Every time I look at you, it brings me back to that wretched place. I can’t get this is out of my godsdamned mind and it drives me insane.”

Azriel felt like a crack had formed in the wall he had built between him and whatever feeling scared him more than death. The more he spoke, the more that wall threatened to crumble. Yet he was powerless. He felt as though he had reached a limit. Gwyn had brought him to that limit. And every second more that he looked at her made him weaker.

He took another step forward. And she took another one back.

“I can still feel how your hands and your mouth had felt on me. The way your intoxicating scent had wrapped around me and lingered after,” he went on, unable to stop himself. 

He kept moving forward, and she kept moving back. Until Gwyn’s back pressed against a wall and she had nowhere else to go.

“You know why I pace my office at night? You know what had distracted me tonight?” He huffed a low laugh. “It’s all you. I pace this room at night, struggling to get you out of my mind. I was distracted tonight because of you. Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Gwyn still said nothing. Her eyes remained fixed on his, pulling him towards their unknown depth.

“You don’t need anything to kill me. The mere thoughts of you are enough.”

His words came out in a whisper, as though it pained him to admit them. He braced his hands on the wall on either side of her head. He leaned down and brought his face close to hers.

“You have ruined me, Gwyn. And I have no fucking clue what to do about it,” he confessed to her, but also to himself.

Azriel braced himself for whatever she would throw at him. Words, a fist, a knife through the heart – he was ready for anything. Except for what she did.

Gwyn cupped his faced between her hands. “Then allow me to do something about it,” she said, before she kissed him.

Chapter Text

There was a lot of ways that the books Gwyn read described the feel of a kiss. Sometimes it was soft, sometimes sweet, oftentimes deep. This one... This one was... searing. Passionate. Consuming. It was everything all at once. It was death and rebirth. Every stroke of Azriel’s tongue against hers made Gwyn’s entire being burn hotter than her fire ever had. It fuelled every sneer and every threat exchanged since the moment they had met while their bodies set everything aflame.

There was no time to think about the why nor the how it came to this. All she wanted right now – what they both seemed to crave – was to keep doing this. Whatever this was.

Azriel pressed his body against her, pinning her to the wall, as his callous hands found the slit in her dress and he ran them up her thighs. Gwyn’s legs parted on instinct and she pulled him even closer by the waist until his middle was flushed against hers.

A lewd sound escaped her mouth when she felt his hardness against her centre. She threw her head back against the wall. Azriel’s mouth left hers and made its way down the column of her throat and neck.

He had no rights being this good at this. He had no rights to know exactly how to control her this way. Her blood boiled at the thought that his experience with others before her had led to him being this knowledgeable with a female’s body. How many before her had been in her position, at the mercy of the handsome and infamous Shadowsinger of the Night Court? But Gwyn was no random lady who was about to share his bed for a few hours. She was his wife. And she intended to claim that title in the only way she had not yet.

Her hand glided across his shoulders. She grabbed his shirt and forcefully dragged it down his arms. Her hand went lower when Azriel removed the shirt all the way and threw it across the room. With the same urgency that she had used with his shirt, she opened his pants, not caring if she was ripping it in the process.

Azriel’s lips moved to her shoulders where he pulled the fabric of her dress away. When it could not go any lower, Gwyn took his hand from where they were grabbing her ass and brought them the v of her cleavage.

“Take it off,” she breathed out.

Azriel gave no warning before he ripped the dress open at the front. The satin glided off her skin as it fell at her feet and exposed Gwyn’s body to her husband. The only things on her were the shiny necklace that fell between her bare breasts and the blue lace that matched the colour of her dress and which covered the most intimate part of her. Azriel took a step back, making Gwyn already miss their proximity. His eyes travelled across the expanse of her body.

“You will be the death of me,” he whispered more to himself.

Gwyn did not know if she could blush harder than she already was but the intensity of his gaze made the pink on her face expand to her entire body. Yet she refused to look away. She stared into his eyes with the same challenge that she always did as she slowly slid her underwear down her long legs. His eyes tracked the movement, as did his shadows as a few followed her hands and brushed her skin.

As soon as it hit the floor, Azriel was on his knees before her. The lust in his eyes when he looked up at her combined with the few candles around the room removed any traces of green in his hazel eyes. All that was left was a golden gaze that matched her flames to perfection.

Gwyn brushed away the few strands of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. She needed to see all of him to know that this was real. Even when he grabbed her backside and licked her centre, Gwyn fought to keep her eyes open. She watched as his mouth closed around her and sucked on her most sensitive area.

The sight was as sinful as the feeling it brought her. Her moans filled the room as he sucked and licked her. She lifted one of her legs and placed them on his shoulder. Azriel bit the inside of her thigh, drawing a whine out of her lips, before he went back to where she needed him most and plunged his tongue inside her.

She gripped his hair with both hands and he groaned every time she tugged at his roots. The sound only drove her to do it more and drove him to suck her harder. He brought one of his hands to her breasts and squeezed while the other held her ass just as hard. Her pleasure increased with every touch and flick of his tongue against her.

He was torturing her in the worst way he ever had yet she knew that this would be the kind that she would always crave. How would she ever go back to how they were after feeling this? How had she ever imagined that thinking about him this way was wrong?

The possibility of ever going back flew out of her mind when her release suddenly hit her harder than it ever had when she had touched herself while unknowingly thinking of him. Her mouth opened on a sharp gasp. The intensity of her orgasm forced her eyes shut and Gwyn lost herself in that feeling. For a moment, she felt herself floating in a sea of nothing where her only anchor was him.

Azriel stood up and pressed his lips on hers. With her eyes still closed, Gwyn held him and let his kiss bring her back to the present. This one was unhurried but just as burning as everything he had done to her.

Gwyn would have cursed him for having had this power over her. But that would not be enough. What she wanted more was to give him a taste of what he had given her. She deepened the kiss as her hand lowered on him. She felt all the hard muscles that she had loathed before for distracting her so much.

Her hand froze when they reached the bandage that she had carefully applied on his lower abdomen. Feeling her hesitation, Azriel pulled away and looked at her in the eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said, brushing his thumb over her swollen lip.

She started to protest but he silenced her with another kiss.

“It can’t be more painful than not having you when I so desperately want you.”

The truth that she discerned in the tone of his voice stirred something inside Gwyn. It was as strong as fear, as consuming as anger. Something that only he ever did to her. Something that she could place no word on. The same thing that had made her kiss him earlier and that made her want to do it more.

So she did. She wrapped her arms around his neck so quickly that he had to take a few steps back. Gwyn kissed him. And kissed him. Until his fingers rubbed at her centre and she felt her wetness start to run down her legs.

Gwyn grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away. Before he could say anything more than her name, she lowered herself on her knees and looked at him like he did when he was the one in that position.

With his dark wings spread behind him and the flames around the room bouncing against his golden skin, he looked every bit the angel of death that people feared and lusted after.

Their gazes locked again as she slid his pants down and bared him to her. A smug grin started to tug at the corner of his lips when she failed to hide her shock at the sight – the size – of him. Gwyn scowled at him and wiped that grin off of his face by wrapping her lips around his cock.

Azriel’s hand settled on the back of her head, guiding her into a rhythm that had him groaning in pleasure. She brought one of her hands at the base of his cock while her tongue played with the rest of him. She revelled in every sound and every curse that fell out of his mouth, each of them feeding her own arousal. She moaned around him as she took him deep inside her mouth, again and again as he pulled on her hair like she did with him. Gwyn thought that she could come again just by pleasuring him.

But then he pulled out and sat down before her. His lips found hers again and Gwyn’s body melted into his again. She let him gently push her backwards until she was lying down on the soft carpet before the fireplace and Azriel was hovering above her.

She let his mouth explore her for a while until it became too much but not enough. Gwyn pulled on his hair to guide his head away from her breasts and to her face again. Azriel saw the silent plea in her eyes and lined his cock at her entrance. A pained groan left him as soon as he started sliding inside her.

Gwyn looked down at his wound. She stopped him with a hand on his chest and forced him to pull back. “Let me,” she told him as she sat up to straddle him.

Again, she kept her eyes on him. Even as she stroked him a few times before lifting herself up and lowering herself on his cock. For the few seconds that it took for her body to adjust to this new feeling, Gwyn cursed him inside for making her feel things that nobody else did. She cursed him and herself for not having done this sooner.

No words were needed between them then. Gwyn let her body do what it wanted as she moved atop him. Azriel gripped her backside and moved with her as the shadows circled them frantically and some danced with their ragged breaths. Her skin glowed from pleasure at every stroke of his cock against her inner walls. Soon, their moans filled the entire room, louder and louder the closer they both came to unravelling.

The sound of her name coming out of his mouth made her lean closer to him. Unable to resist his lips, Gwyn crashed her mouth on his. The feel of his tongue against hers and the memory of what it did to her earlier made her move faster and harder. Again. And again. Until she came again, screaming his name in the crook of his neck. Azriel held her close with his hand around her and kept moving. Gwyn was still coming down from the height that her second orgasm had brought her when she felt him tense beneath her. He groaned against her skin as his own orgasm hit him, and he spilled himself inside her.

Gwyn held him tight through it. Only when she felt him relax did she loosened her arms where they were wrapped around his neck. She only moved away when her breathing finally calmed and her senses returned to her. But she still did not let go entirely. She half lied on top of him, mindful of his wings and of the bandage on his abdomen. She placed an arm around his middle and buried her face in his neck.

All of this felt unreal and she did not want to miss any part of it. Although she still feared the things that he made her feel, Gwyn was not ready to go back to a reality where his touch would not sooth those fears. Whatever happened next, at least she had this.

“I still hate you,” she mumbled against his neck.

She felt the reverberations of Azriel’s laugh through every inch of her. His hands wrapped around her and held her closer.

“I know, love.” Gwyn smiled when he kissed the top of her head. “I still hate you too. So damn much.”

“I hate you more.”

She heard a familiar humming as the shadows circled them and nuzzled her still flushed cheeks. Gwyn did not question it this time. She just closed her eyes, and softly hummed along with it.

The night had been short, but it had been the best Azriel had had in months. There was no pacing, no pulling his hair out because the thoughts of his wife had been plaguing his mind, and no wondering if she would ever stop.

When he came down for breakfast this morning, instead of wondering how long it would take for Gwyn to ruin his day, he found himself looking forward to finding out how much better she could make it.

Azriel filled his plate and then Gwyn’s with anything that she liked in the morning. Instead of putting their plates on opposite sides of the table, he placed them right next to each other. It would be easier that way for him to hear whatever stupid names she would find to call him.

Azriel heard footsteps entering the room as soon as he settled into his seat. The shadows wasted no time before they rushed to her. The chair next to his lightly scraped and her voice filled his ears a second later.

“Husband,” she smiled at him.

“Wife,” he smiled back.