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When you were younger, you always thought that finding your mate would be the happiest day of your life. Your parents were the happiest people you had ever seen, and you thought your mate would make you feel that same level of joy. Why wouldn’t he? You didn’t know of the hardships of having a mate that wasn’t well-matched to you. Of a mate who did not adore you the way you adored him. Once, you thought Azriel thought the same way you did. That finding his mate would be a sort of heavenly high. Once, you dreamed that you and Azriel would be mates—because who would be better together than two lovesick fools?
And yet, as you felt that golden bond tug deep in the center of your chest, all you felt was the overwhelming sense of dread. Because you had just seen your mate kiss another female. A female that was mated to someone else. You watched as Rhysand pulled him away, no doubt to talk to Azriel about the colossal mistake he was making. You caught Elain’s eye as she turned to leave. She said your name softly.
“Follow your heart,” you said as your own was breaking. “Don’t let anyone tell you what you feel is wrong. You are the only one who knows what is right for you.”
Elain stared at you as if she could see right through you. Maybe she could. She was a Seer—who knew the limits of her power. Her voice was as gentle as a hug, “You should, too.”
It would have been kinder, would have hurt less, if she had strangled you. Fought you for Azriel’s affections, even if she would always win in the end. “Be well, Elain.”
“Be well.”
After you left that night, you didn’t see your friends for a long while. It was better that way, you supposed. You only became friends with the Inner Circle after befriending Azriel. He had come into the café you once worked at for some peace and quiet. It had been late, so you and him were the only ones there. Though he sought solitude, you ended up chatting his ear off. He didn’t seem to mind. Azriel came every night for months, save for the days he was gone away on missions. Eventually, his brothers got curious about what Azriel was doing with his nights and followed him. And, well, the rest was history.
Nowadays, you were a researcher for Rhys. Ever since Feyre became fae, ever since Elain and Nesta were made, ever since Nesta was showing how deep her powers ran, that meant you spent most of your time holed up in a library, nose shoved in a book. No one ever questioned why you were gone. It made it all so simple to slip away.
If only you noticed the inky tendrils of Azriel’s shadows lurking in the corners of your apartment. Maybe then you wouldn’t have been surprised by the Shadowsinger’s sudden arrival.
“You’re leaving without a goodbye?”
You jumped at the sound of the deep voice echoing in your near-empty bedroom. When you turned, his hazel eyes were narrowed suspiciously at you. “I thought it would be easier that way.”
Azriel lifted his chin, glared down his nose at you. You noted the way his fingers twitched into fists, as though he was barely constraining his anger. His hurt. “How could you ever think that?”
“Because I cannot watch my mate love another female.”
He didn’t react. Not for a long time. Long enough for you to carefully place your clothes in your suitcase, to go to your wardrobe for another load and fold them up. Before you could place them, too, in the suitcase, his hand caught your wrist. His eyes looked pained when you looked up at him.
“I wish you told me,” he said. “How long have you known?”
Not, I would rather be with my mate. Not, to hell with Elain. Not, I want to try.
“Since you kissed Elain at Solstice. So, a few weeks.”
Azriel gave a tight nod, looked anywhere but at you. His grip on your wrist loosened enough for you to resume packing. He didn’t stop you again.
“That…was probably for the best.”
And somehow, that hurt more than seeing him kiss Elain in the first place. Azriel wasn’t going to fight for you. For how many years had he longed to meet his mate? How many stories had he told you of how he would spoil his mate rotten, never let her know a day where he didn’t love her? Was there something wrong with you? Azriel didn’t want you as a mate. Certainly that meant something was wrong with you.
You shook off a shadow that was trying to wind itself up in your hair.
“Where are you going to go?”
“I think it’s for the best you don’t know.” Maybe it was petty, maybe it was justified. You hoped it hurt Azriel regardless.
He nodded again. “Right. Plausible deniability when everyone else is wondering where you’ve gone. That’s smart.”
You weren’t sure they’d notice, but you nodded anyways. You crossed the room to your chest of drawers and got your underwear. Once, you might have blushed at the idea of your mate seeing your lacy unmentionables. Now, you kind of wanted to throw them in Azriel’s face and taunt him over what he was losing.
“You…didn’t want this either, did you?” he asked. If you shut your eyes and pretended hard enough, you might have heard hurt in his voice. Pleading. Hope that maybe you would tell him otherwise. But when you looked at him, you only saw the same cold apathy he came into the room with.
You sucked your tongue over your teeth. “Why do you think I didn’t say anything?” you lied. “I didn’t want to burden you with this decision.”
Another shadow tried to wrap itself around you. Despite your best efforts to shake it off, this one was more stubborn. Why wasn’t Azriel keeping a tighter reign on them? You paused. Why were they even here in the first place? The shadows had to have been the reason he came. But why?
“Why are you here, Az?”
Azriel’s jaw clenched and unclenched. Fight for me, you begged. You tugged on the bond, hoping that he might feel something. If he did, he gave no indication. “My shadows made me believe you were in trouble.”
“Well, I’m not. So, you can feel free to leave.”
His mouth opened, then shut. He nodded. “Be well,” he said.
You didn’t say it back.
Lucien watched as you basked in the glow of the Day Court’s sun. When he had last seen you in the Night Court, you had often slunk in the shadows with the Court’s Spymaster. You almost seemed like a different female. As though you were finally shining. He found himself hoping you always shined.
The two of you had grown close. Lucien had never expected the two of you to become anything remotely resembling friends. You were kind to him in the Night Court, of course. But you once had been glued to Azriel’s side. Hiding in the shadows, never allowing anyone too close. Now, it was by Lucien’s side that you stayed. It was him who you smiled at, who you told your jokes to, who you would drag to the library so you would have company while you worked. Lucien Vanserra had become your closest confidant, and he wore that title with pride. He would not forsake you as Azriel had done.
Months ago, when Lucien arrived here, he had been surprised to see you hiding in the palace. It had been his understanding that you so rarely strayed from the Spymaster’s side. At first, Lucien thought you had been sent to Day for research. With its ten thousand libraries, there was little you couldn’t find. Yet, the longer he stayed to reconnect with his apparent father, the stranger it was that you remained.
“This is her home now,” Helion explained when Lucien asked at dinner one evening. One of the frequent evenings where you were buried away in the library and had forgotten to come eat.
“Night is her home.” It had been for as long as he knew you.
Helion raised a brow. “Not any longer.”
Lucien’s heart clenched. Had something terrible happened? Did you have a falling out with Rhysand’s Inner Circle? He asked Helion as much.
“Her mate sought the love of another,” he said gently. Helion looked over at your empty chair across from Lucien. “Perhaps you should bring her down a tray. Your lonely hearts might enjoy each other’s company.”
Lucien wanted to laugh in his father’s face. You had never so much as looked at Lucien as anything more than an acquaintance. You were kinder than the rest of the Inner Circle, of course. You knew he had been Feyre’s friend, and you felt like he should be treated nicer than the rest of the Night Court did. No one ever followed your suit. He was Spring Court’s scourge. For all they knew, he would run to Tamlin at the first opportunity. You never made him feel like you distrusted him. In another life, maybe he would have fallen for you then. But Lucien remembered how you always gazed longingly at Azriel. How the last time he saw you, you looked like a shell of yourself as he and Elain inched closer and closer together during Solstice. If Azriel had been your mate, the mate who won Lucien’s own mate’s heart, then perhaps Helion was right.
That evening, as Lucien sat in the library with you, watching you eat and laugh at the stories he had gathered from his time with Vassa and Jurian, he vowed to never let you become that shell again.
Which was why he dreaded telling you that Rhysand had asked for permission to use Day’s libraries and the Inner Circle would be joining him.
So he didn’t.
“Come to Winter with me,” Lucien said as he stood above you, extending a hand for you to take.
You smiled as you slipped your hand into his. As you rose to your feet, Lucien helped to steady you, a sturdy arm wrapping around your waist. He liked the way your soft body felt pressed against his chest. He liked how you made no effort to pull away from him even more. “Why are we going to Winter?”
“Does there have to be a reason?” Lucien asked. “Jurian told me of how humans would build men out of the snow.”
Your eyes twinkled as you looked up at him. For a second, he was sure you would buy it. Not question a thing. But then your smile faltered. “They’re coming here, aren’t they?”
“I want to build a snowman with you. A whole snowfamily, if you’ll let me.”
“Since I left, Rhysand has been down a researcher. He and Helion are still allies, so he asked if he could come here to talk with the librarians. He’s bringing everyone with him, isn’t he?”
Lucien lifted your hand to his mouth, brushed his lips over your knuckles. “Come to Winter with me,” he repeated.
“Is Elain coming, too?”
“I don’t care if she is.” Oddly enough, he meant it. When Lucien came to the Night Court, he tried to be there for Elain. At every turn, she pushed him away. He didn’t blame her, of course. This transition was not easy on its own, never mind adding a mating bond to the mix. Eventually, the desire to be around her dulled. Lucien didn’t want a mate who didn’t want him, so he put distance between them. He was grateful he did. Otherwise Lucien would never get to feel you in his arms. “I’ve moved on, but I know the ache is still fresh for you. Come to Winter with me, and let us pretend the Cauldron made us mates instead.”
The corner of your mouth quirked up again. You pulled his hand toward your mouth, kissed his knuckles. Lucien’s heart fluttered in his chest. “When do we leave?”
The wails of his shadows had not ceased since you left the Night Court. Though Elain had bought him refill after refill of that headache powder in an attempt to relieve the pounding in his head at their constant somber songs, it had done little to alleviate his pain. Not the ache in his head, nor the ache in his heart. Azriel once thought he was grateful that you had decided to reject the bond. As wonderful as you were a friend, he had been so sure his heart laid with Elain. That there was something more powerful, more beautiful, about choosing to love another when fate demanded otherwise. Now, he only wondered if he should have chosen you.
Only Feyre was the one able to figure out why Azriel had become more withdrawn than usual. Everyone chalked up your disappearance as to why he faded more into the shadows, believed that the loss of his twin flame so suddenly had left him reeling, but they didn’t understand why. But Feyre, Feyre understood. She had found him standing outside your old apartment building too long, had found him staring at the door to your room in the River House too often, had found him turning to whisper something to you only to remember you were gone too much. When he heard whispers throughout his many missions about how you lived with Helion, there were many nights where Feyre watched as Azriel stood on the edge of the balcony, ready to fly off and bring you home. Perhaps that was why she encouraged him to join her and the rest of the Inner Circle at the Day Court. She thought she was being helpful. Maybe if you saw him again, she thought, you would decide to be with your mate.
You wouldn’t, and Azriel knew that. He had once told you he would forsake his mating bond, should it ever come, to remain with Elain. He shouldn’t be hurt that you believed him.
And, yet, his shadows sang as they arrived in Helion’s home. Helion’s home, where you were not at.
At first, Azriel thought you might have been hiding away. Helion would not be so cruel as to not give you a warning that your former family would be coming for a visit. But as the week wore on, Azriel realized the brief hints of your scent he caught were stale. Like you had been gone. Like you had left.
He didn’t blame you.
On the final night of their visit, Feyre finally broached the subject of your whereabouts at the end of a meeting.
“She and Lucien have gone to Winter for the week,” Helion said as he led everyone out of the meeting room and into the hall. “They should be arriving soon.”
Azriel was suddenly aware of how Elain hung onto his arm, her grip tightening at the mention of her rejected mate. A good partner would have comforted her, would have reassured her that he would stand between them should Lucien dare to try anything. Azriel wasn’t a good partner, for all he could think of was why the Hel were you with Lucien?
“I hope we can catch them before we leave,” Feyre said, sparing a glance at Azriel.
The air shifted. Down the hall, you appeared with Lucien. Azriel’s breath caught in his throat. He watched as you leaned against Lucien’s arm, beaming up at him. Had Azriel ever seen you smile like that before? What had Lucien done to deserve such a look from you? He wasn’t aware the two of you were even close. Sure, you had been friendly to him, but you were friendly with most people. Azriel struggled to wrap his mind around how so much could change in a few short months. A blip in the life of a fae, and yet he almost felt like he was staring at a stranger.
Beside him, Helion smiled fondly at his son. “Ah, I am glad he finally made a move.”
Azriel glanced at Day’s High Lord then back to you.
Rhys, however, took the bait. “Oh? I would have thought Lucien would still be heartbroken over Elain rejecting the bond.”
Helion’s face hardened for a moment, before he smiled at the way Lucien softly kissed the side of your head. Azriel wanted his shadows to strangle the male and he might have allowed them to, if it wasn’t for the glare Feyre was sending him. “They both were heartbroken, then they found each other.”
“I wish they would get lost,” Azriel muttered to himself.
Helion looked at him, brows pinched together. He looked as though he could see right through Azriel. Did he know? Did he know that you were Azriel’s mate? It wouldn’t have surprised him if Helion did know. You had to have provided some reason for why you fled your home. “Pardon?”
Feyre jumped in before Azriel could do something to lose one of Night’s few allies. “I believe Azriel was saying something about being hungry. Will dinner be soon?”
Helion’s face softened at Feyre. “You will have to try harder to distract me, High Lady. But your Shadowsinger may join us all for dinner in a few minutes if you can keep your leash on him.”
From the corner of his eye, he watched as Elain looked up at him. He did not meet her gaze. He couldn’t stop staring at you.
“He’ll behave. Won’t you, Azriel?” Feyre said.
Still, he stared. You and Lucien came closer, but neither of you seemed to notice. Was this his punishment? To watch you so wrapped up in the love of another, just as you had done to him? He would take it all back. He would beg to the Mother for a chance to do it all over again, to finally see you.
“Won’t you, Azriel?” Feyre repeated, a little firmer this time.
You froze, eyes going wide as you finally, finally, saw him. Lucien tensed, taking a slight step in front of you, as though to shield you from Azriel. What harm would he cause you? You were his mate. He was supposed to protect you.
“Are you well?” Azriel managed to ask. His voice was tight, as if his vocal cords might snap if he said anymore. Around him, his shadows began to dance. He fought hard to keep them at his side, though a few still slipped out to swirl around your feet.
Your eyes slid up to Lucien. A soft smile curled across your face. What had happened in Winter between you and him? What had been happening while you resided in Day? You took Lucien’s hand. “I once believed love would be black and white,” you said, “but…it’s golden, like daylight.”
Azriel’s chest seized. He shook off Elain and stumble backwards. Cassian sent him an odd look, and he felt Rhys’s talons scrape down his shield.
“You’re well?” he repeated. He had to be sure. Had to know there was not a chance in Hel that he could win your favor again somehow.
“Yes.”
“You deserve it,” he said.
You looked at him again, your eyes softening. “So do you.”
Azriel was gone before he heard you.