#carynthian warrior

[lady-embers]

Gwyn Week Day 2: Psyche

"I am the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break me."

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🎨 is by Zolyna_

Gwyn is a Priestess, a Valkyrie, a Carynthian Warrior. She is the living essence of a brave, loyal, and strong woman. She deserves nothing but good things for all her life after everything she has been through. I, for one, can't wait to read more about her continued journey and growth 💙

@gwynweekofficial

[gwyn-nesta-emerie]

Emerie and Gwyn's win in the Blood Rite literally created history and was such a defining moment. There is no way either of their stories are done and over with as both of them will have to deal with the repercussions of that moment. Which can only mean Gwyn and Emerie POVs are coming.

I can't wait for more Valkyrie moments that will come from that to since we all know Emerie, Gwyn, and Nesta are a trio that cannot be broken.

🎨 is by Hachandraws

[surielstea]

Wedding Crasher

Based on this request.

Paring: Azriel x Fem!Reader (mates)

Summary: Reader is forced into an arranged marriage, and when the day of union comes it is interrupted by two familiar Illyrian warriors.

Warnings: Toxic relationship with parents | forced marriage | Azriel threatens a life | but pretty much all fluff <33

2.4k words.

My white dress hung heavy on my shoulders, my corset too tight, my heels already making my feet ache.

The plastered smile on my face hurt my cheeks, and the thorns in my bouquet prickled my sweaty palms. I released a shaky breath as the music of the string quartet began to play, an unmistakable tune meant for happy brides ready to walk down the aisle.

Which is what I was supposed to be, happy, ready. Heads turned in my direction and my back straightened, my brows creasing the slightest fraction.

My husband-to-be waited at the end of the walkway, his smile broad and malicious. My stomach churned.

I didn't want to be here, here on this beach getting married to some guy twenty years older all for an alliance my parents forced me into. My self-sovereignty for what? For a few pieces of gold and a minor title?

I took a steadying breath and began walking forward, keeping in rhythm to the strum of the music. The groom reached his hand out towards me, my own shook as I took it and he pulled me the rest of the way to the altar.

The officiant began the reading from his script, and with it, my ears began to ring, I tuned the priest out and my eyes fluttered closed. My fiancé's hands squeezed mine, not in a comforting manner, but a warning. I snapped my head up and looked at the officiant, I blinked at him with creased brows.

"Do you, take Rhen Talor to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish till death do you part?" He repeated each word adding another pound of weight to my shoulders.

"I—" I look between the oblivious officiant and the groom, Rhen, to my parents who were watching with narrowed eyes. "I..." I wanted to say yes, I was going to say yes, but the pounding in my heart could be heard in my ears and I got the sneaking suspicion that I was about to vomit all over my white gown.

An unnatural wind blew my hair back as if nature itself was beckoning me to step away, to run.

I looked in the direction of the wind, my hands slipping from Rhen's as I spotted two towering, familiar winged figures in the distance and I realized the pounding in my ears was the beat of their wings.

The crowd murmurs at the intrusion as the two Illyrians casually stroll towards us, arrogance and power in each step.

"Excuse me for a moment," I say, gathering my skirts in my hands and rushing over to the two males as fast as I can in my heels that seemed determined to get stuck in the sand.

"What in the seven hells are you two doing here?" I seethe, looking at the fae warriors who were smiling at me with wicked amusement. Some part of me relaxed to feel anything besides fear and nausea, even if it was anger taking over.

"We're here to save you, what else?" The shadow singer arches a brow, dark shadows swirling up the pure white of my dress.

"I don't need anyone's saving, especially not two Carynthian warriors," I argue and Cassian snorts, taking in my appearance.

"I only came along because Az promised there'd be a buffet," The lord of bloodshed shrugged.

"Not for— this is wildly inappropriate, even for the two of you." I groaned but Cassian only continued walking, towards the guests that were scrambling away from the sight of his seven siphons. Leaving me and Azriel, our words drowned out by the crashing of the waves.

"You're too late. I already said I do," I cross my arms over my chest.

"Liar," He narrows his hazel eyes on me. "You know better than to try and fool me, Love, I could feel you tugging at the bond, you were in distress," Azriel took a dangerous step forward and I sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of the bond, not accepted but not rejected either. A bridge between us that I both refused to sever and to walk across.

H grabbed my hand that was prickled with the thorns of my bouquet, shadows soothed over my palm, relieving the sting of my minor wounds. "You shouldn't be here," I frowned but his smile remained.

"No, probably not, but I can't let you marry him," He said, his voice brooking no room for argument, ever the cool and collected male.

“Go home, Azriel,” I speak quietly, but not weakly.

“Come with me.” He matches my tone, his scarred fingers intertwining with my manicured ones and the sensation was so different than the feeling of Rhen’s grip. "Why did your parents arrange this? What are they gaining from this union?" He asked, voice slightly stiff at the idea of selling me off for their own personal achievement.

"Money, the Talor's have a small title and crop of land, it'd be enough to last us a few centuries,” I shrug. I loved my parents, despite their twisted and corrupt ways, I loved them because they fed and raised me, I loved them because they put clothes on my back and told me bedtime stories. I never assumed I’d have to pay them back, not this way, at least.

"I'll give you every cent to my name if that's the price of my mate's freedom, if money is what they want, they can take mine." The shadow singer stated, his words certain that it made me realize that I’ve never been as sure about anything as he was about this.

"I can't ask you to do that." I shake my head, slipping my fingers from his, knowing the lingering guests were watching.

"You don't have to, I want you to be happy, let me buy you then set you free." He implored, allowing my hand to fall to my side only because he moved to cup my cheek. "And if I'm lucky you'll fall in love with me along the way." He shrugged with a smirk of pure fae male arrogance.

"Az," I deadpan, the words half a growl.

"I'm not asking you to marry me, I'm asking you not to marry him." His eyes flick back to the male watching with furious eyes from the archway. "If you tell me to I’ll leave, and you can walk down that aisle again— but let's not kid ourselves, you never wanted this, never wanted him,” His hand on my face made me melt slightly, and he was right, despite wanting to pay my mother and father back, this is nowhere near anything I wanted.

I swallowed thickly, weighing the options. If I married Rhen my parents would be happy and this would all be water under the bridge— but I’d suffer a life of being both a housewife and broodmare with a male who did not truly love me.

If I went with Azriel my parents would likely attempt to cleave us, unless Azriel paid them as he said he would, as long as gold was placed in their hands I doubted they’d have much argument— and I could be free to choose what I wanted with my life, I could accept my mating bond.

"But where will I go? What will I do?" I ask, my mind filled with questions that could only be answered by my future self.

"It's entirely up to you, you can live with me, or you can move to another court, whatever you choose. You'd be free." He stresses and my mouth gapes open, then closes. I look to the waves crashing against the shore only a few yards away, shouting at me to flee, to go with him.

All of it was too good to be true, Azriel coming to be my savior with this plan. It couldn’t be real and I needed him to punch me so I could wake up from this dream.

"Though I'd prefer if you stayed close, it's painful having you so far even right now— and you're only a city away, I can’t imagine a whole court,” He added and I looked back to him, a small smile pulling at the corners of my lips.

"I haven't even accepted the bond yet and you're already desperate." I tease.

"Yet?" He arched a scarred brow.

I flush a soft hue and avert my eyes again, this time settling them on the approaching figure that formed a knot of anxiety in my stomach.

"You're out of line, get your hands off my bride you bastard." Rhen spat and I flinched at the way he cursed the word, Azriel didn’t so much as shift, in fact, I could’ve sworn there was a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Out of line? No, I'm exactly where I should be, you're the one that's in my way." The shadow singer smoothly replied, Rhen snarled at his retort and grabbed me just above my elbow, his grip as tight and immovable as iron.

"Don't touch me." I gritted out, tugging at my arm but he didn’t budge and simply pulled me back towards where the officiant stood, uneasy on his feet.

"Come on, be a good little wife, and finish the damned ceremony," Rhen growled, and before I could take even another step towards the archway my fiancé halted, freezing in his footsteps as shadows wrapped around his limbs, his neck, encasing his body and shoving into his open mouth, restricting him of oxygen.

"She told you not to touch her Talor, so I'd highly suggest you let go or you won't have a hand anymore." The Spy Master’s voice was death incarnate, I had never heard anything so paralyzing in all my immortal life. It chilled me down to my very bone, and I thought that I might be carrion if I was ever on the receiving end of my mate's deathly stare.

Rhen’s hand releases me if only to grasp at his own throat, silently pleading with his eyes to have mercy.

The shadows released him and Rhen was sent running, sprinting as fast as he could away from the male that stood before me, now looking at me with an incredulous grin. Insane, he must’ve been insane— and I must’ve been too, to be so in love with that smile and the dimples that came along with it.

"You were seriously going to marry him?” He scoffed, hand coming to my arm and inspecting the area Rhen held me for any injury.

"Well, it wasn't really my choice," I grumble under my breath as Azriel lets go of my arm with a gentleness that rivaled his vicious exterior that occurred only moments ago.

Azriel’s eyes flicked over to the few remaining guests and I turned in the direction he stared, at my parents who were staring with both helplessness and fury in their eyes.

"Me and Cass will deal with them later, let's get you out of here, alright?" He tugged at the tether between us and my head whips back to him.

“Okay,” I nod and reach out, my hand finding his. His eyes soften as he pulls me into him, wrapping a wing around me and cocooning us in darkness before he utilizes his shadows to pull us into another realm entirely, it was only a brief moment of darkness and an empty void before my heels were on a hardwood floor and the sweet citrusy smell of Velaris flowed through my nose.

"We left Cass," I say, glancing around to find the second Illyrian nowhere to be found.

"He was in the midst of stuffing his face with bread rolls, I think he'll be just fine." Azriel half scoffed, half chuckled. He pulled away but before he could completely slip from my grasp my hand tightened on his and his brows lifted a fraction, eyes lighting with intrigue.

"Thank you." Is all I can manage to say.

"Don't thank me." He shakes his head. "I should have gotten you out of there far sooner." He spoke as if he was more dissatisfied with himself than anyone else.

"But still, when it mattered you came for me," I utter, taking a cautious step forward.

"You're my mate, even if you haven't accepted the bond, it's my duty to keep you safe— you shouldn't have even been out of my sights," He says, his voice soft as he looks down at me, hand squeezing mine.

"I wasn't, not really." I hum, gesturing down to the shadow that swirled around my ankle, the one that would always remain there.

He smiles at the thought, then says, "You look beautiful, by the way." His eyes flick down to my white gown and I follow his gaze, smiling softly at the dress, it had been the only thing that was my decision in this entire endeavor.

"I only wish that it was your choice to put that dress on, this morning," He added, as if reading my mind, and for a moment I wondered if the mating bond allowed him to see how I felt.

"It will be, one day," I nod confidently and his brows raise with insinuation. A gentle smile blooms across my lips and I cup his sharp jaw. “But for now, baby steps,” I suggest rising up onto my toes, leaning closer, placing a kiss on his adjacent cheek.

When I pulled back he was beet red and I giggled at the sight, it was a wonder that this male, who flushed at a chaste peck on the cheek, was also one of the most feared in Prythian.

“Right,” he swallowed down the lump in his throat, his hand only a phantom at my waist, hovering. "I'll have money sent to your parents by Dawn." He says, then quickly adds, “Even if they don’t deserve it.”

I smile brightly and pull away. “Thank you, Az,” I murmur.

“Anything, for you.” He confessed, and I knew he meant it. I smiled, thinking that in the morning I might reward him with some breakfast, in turn, accepted that golden tether between us and finally allowed myself to be happy, with a mate.

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[bookishdidi]

Graphs don't lie!

Art by schetroschky (Tumblr) | schetroschky (Instagram)

One of the first things I woke up to yesterday was a post downplaying Gwyn and Emerie’s importance, and honestly? I couldn't just scroll past that. Like, let’s not forget these are two of the only three women to ever take part in (and win!) the Blood Rite—a historic achievement, especially considering the efforts by Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys to create programs encouraging female warriors in Illyria, which are often met with resistance due to deep-rooted cultural stigma. Emerie is the first Illyrian woman to achieve the status of Carynthian, and Gwyn, once confined by her fears as a priestess in the library, overcame them to become a formidable warrior on the battlefield. These two are flipping the script, smashing norms, and inspiring a whole new wave of badass women. So yeah, their impact is anything but minor.

And because I love to nerd out, I brought graphs! I crunched the numbers on how often Gwyn and Emerie get mentioned in ACOSF compared to other 'relevant' characters. This is just to give us a clearer picture of how much these two queens actually show up in the story they're a part of.

Note: I'm only considering the main books: 1, 2, 3, and 4. I'm not including Rhys, Feyre, or Tamlin, as I consider them main characters. Also, I’m excluding the number of mentions for Nesta and Cassian in ACOSF.

This graph shows the highest number of times each character’s name was mentioned in a single book, highlighting where they had the most frequent presence.

Since ACOSF is the longest book, it might seem like Gwyn and Emerie being mentioned more often than other characters is just due to its length. But even when accounting for this, they still top the list.

This graph shows the percentage of the maximum times each character’s name is mentioned in a single book compared to the total word count of that book.

So keep yapping. Gwyn and Emerie aren't just important and relevant to the plot; they have significant screen time.

My conclusion is...

Here is all the data I collected:

And a few more graphics in case it's something you're interested in:

[prythianpages]

Shine Bright, Shine Far | Cassian

cassian x love witch reader | summary: Cassian meets you for the first time. The exact person he needed, not knowing that you are also the exact person he's been dreaming of.

warnings: none? this is fluff, I guess?

word count: 2,012

a/n: this can be read as a stand alone fic!

As the Night Court's general, Cassian had faced countless battles, proving himself a formidable Illyrian warrior. He held the titles of Carynthian and Lord of Bloodshed. Winning was in his nature, a skill he had mastered. Or so he thought.

Because in matters of the heart, defeat was all he had come to know.

He tried not to let it bother him. Winter Solstice, his favorite holiday, was fast approaching. He looked forward to decorating the River House with Feyre, even though Azriel would begrudgingly fix it. Rhysand never cared much for such trivial things. It had become a tradition since the first year Feyre joined them, much like the annual snowball fight, another event he eagerly anticipated—after drinking the night away, of course.

Winter Solstice had always been a time of joy and happiness. Cassian loved his family and friends. But things are different now. Not a bad different, just different. Rhysand had his little family with Feyre and Nyx. Azriel and Gwyn were slowly but surely becoming a thing. Mor had taken to spending more time with Emerie. Amren remained obsessed with her Summer Prince. Elain and Lucien now lived in the Day Court, but they had come to the Night Court to celebrate among family. And Nesta? Last he heard, she was in Autumn.

It was a bittersweet feeling. He was happy to be among his loved ones, yet there was no denying the shadow that had settled over his usually fiery spirit. A sense of loneliness crept in as he watched his closest friends and family find love.

He tried his best to mask his feelings, believing he had succeeded. But of course Feyre had seen through it. Cassian had been making his way into the kitchen of the River house for a night snack when he ran into Feyre, Mor and Emerie.

“Get dressed! We’re going to Rita’s!” Mor had exclaimed and Feyre was quick to encourage him. The look in their eyes made it clear that they wouldn't take no for an answer. It was either go willingly or be dragged there by force. Cassian chose the former.

That’s how Cassian found himself at Rita’s with Mor and Emerie surrounded by pulsating music and vibrant lights. Mor had ordered them drinks and after an hour of drinking, an attempt at an awkward conversation over Cassian's love life was made. However, Cassian was able to defer it, quickly changing the topic into something lighter.

The drinks kept coming and another hour later, Mor and Emerie were twirling away on the dance floor, leaving Cassian alone in the private booth. Just as he intended. He wondered whether he should order another drink.

As he glanced toward the bar, his eyes were drawn to a pretty female in shimmering pink. She immediately caught his attention as there was a certain glow about her, but he noticed her gaze was fixated on a silver-haired male across from her.

With a sigh, Cassian worked to chug the last of his drink and decided it was time to leave.

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 

You let out a deep sigh as the thoughts you had tried to dance away finally caught up with you. The silver stars dangling from above seemed to mock you, twinkling along to the blaring music. It had been a week since your magic had failed you during the ritual, and although the stars had shown you they had not forsaken you, each day since then had brought a new struggle.

Your magic was waning and it worried you.

It’s why you found yourself at Rita’s. You had easily made friends with a group of blue-skinned fae, but you couldn’t keep up with them on the dance floor in your platform pink heels. Your body ached for a break, so you went to the bar and decided to people-watch—a favorite pastime of yours.

You gaze wistfully at your drink, swirling the purple liquid with a straw in one hand while propping up your chin with the other. Maybe it's time to call it a night and go wallow in your self-pity in the comfort of your home…

Shine bright, shine far, don't be shy, be a star, your mother’s voice echoes through your mind.

It was from a song she had made up for you. She sang it to you often as a babe, and when you were older, she reserved the song for days when you were feeling a little down. A reminder that you were meant to shine, no matter how difficult the journey.

If she were alive, she’d definitely be singing the song to you at this moment. But now, it’s her memory that sings it for you, always resurfacing when you need it the most.

She'll sparkle and glitter, and shimmer to the end...

And like always, mother is right. You would overcome this mountain. Climb it and reach the top and shine bright like the three stars over Ramiel do.

As you sit there, you feel a familiar, subtle tug within. Your magic, though weakened, responds to the environment around you. It picks up on the emotions, feeding off the joy and excitement in the air. Following that faint pull, your curious eyes find a fae male with silver hair that gleams like moonlight. His cat-like eyes are fixed on another male, who sits far from him and surrounded by his friends.

There's a look in those feline eyes that you know well. He tears his gaze away from the dark-haired male, whose neck glimmers with green scales. When you notice the dark-haired male stealing glances back at the silver-haired fae, your magic stirs like a whisper in the wind, your heart fluttering in response.

 Shifting in your seat with a sudden eagerness, you lift your head and signal at one of the bartenders. She's a pretty fae with delicate wings aglow behind her, a familiar face you've often seen but never learned her name. As she approaches, you lean in and quietly share your plan. Her brow furrows skeptically at first, and when she briefly scans the room, you fear rejection. 

Yet, when her eyes meet yours again, they widen with understanding and gives a nod.

Your heart continues to flutter, pink stardust dancing at your fingertips in anticipation. You watch as she delivers a drink to each of the males, a replacement for their previous ones. You had instructed her to make them believe the other had sent it. As the two males exchange glances, your magic begins to hum through your veins, pulsing louder with each passing moment. The air around you crackles with an electric charge, ready to burst forth.

When the two fae finally bridge the distance between them, blushing and smiling, your magic surges through you like lightning, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. A small, satisfied smile curves your lips.

Even with your magic faltering, you still had your touch.

Retrieving your heart-shaped compact mirror from your purse, you check your makeup and apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, mesmerized as your heart-shaped pupils pulse back at you. Still buzzing with the energy of your magic, you feel another tug. This time, it pulls you toward the dance floor.

Following the tug once more, you make your way through the crowded pleasure hall, purple drink still in hand. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of two fae dancing. There’s an awkward distance between them, as if hesitant to take that one step closer, and you wonder if that had been the source of the tug. 

The pink stardust dancing around your fingertips flutters through the dance floor and toward them. You wince when it gives a harsh push, sending the smaller fae crashing into her partner’s chest. Relief soothes your worry when it heeds the same results you had been hoping for. The taller fae catches her in his arms and the two share a look before continuing in their dance. This time, much closer and with gazes full of answered hope. 

Oh, how you love, love...

The thrill of your magic begins to wane, the once vibrant energy now fading into an indistinct hum. You decide that’s enough fun for the night. Yes, you still had that touch but you worried exhausting it as your magic was harder to control now. Just as you neared the exit, karma came for you as someone crashed into you much like your magic had done to that fae on the dance floor and sent you sprawling into something hard.

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 

No, not something. 

Someone.

The sudden force sent your drink splashing, the cup falling to the floor with a resonant thud. Stars above, you cursed, hands flying to your mouth as you realized your drink had splattered across a pristine white shirt. Flustered, you avoid eye contact and immediately began apologizing, offering to fix it.

“It’s okay…Are you okay?”

The voice–a male’s– was surprisingly calm and deep. Very deep.

Acting on instinct, you’re murmuring the words to a small cleaning spell before you could stop yourself.  Pink magic slips from your fingertips but instead of vanishing, the stain deepens, the purple remnants of your drink taking on a darker hue against the canvas of white. Your eyes widen at the aftermath of your faulty magic.

“No,” you squeak out, finally answering your victim’s question. 

“I’ll send you a new shirt. Two, if you wish...” Your voice trails off nervously as you finally look up at your victim, realizing how tall he is. So tall his form towers over you easily, large membranous wings casting shadows over you. Your throat tightens and one heel lifts, ready to take a small step back

“Or three! One can never have too many white shirts as you clearly have seen…”

As your gaze travels upwards, you freeze, completely star-struck by the sight of the most handsome male you’d ever seen. Your heel meets the ground, body rooted to your spot.

Tall, strong, and muscular, he stands bathed in the vibrant, colorful lights of Rita’s. An ethereal glow dances along his dark hair and the scar that runs through one of his brows. Despite his rugged features, there is something strangely soft about him that draws you in.

And he seems oddly familiar, like you’ve seen him before, though you can’t place why.

“But how will you find me?” He asks, more amused than upset.

You should be relieved but you’re not even sure you’re breathing when his eyes meet yours. In the dim light, you can discern the hazel color of his eyes, so warm and inviting, and it takes you a moment to register that he had spoken to you.

“What?” You blink at him, still wide-eyed.

His lips quirk upwards. “How will you send me the shirts?”

“Well, the same way I just found you now,” you reply, your voice now steady despite your racing heart. “Magic.”

“Magic,” he muses, a glint beaming in his eyes.

“Mmm, I’ll throw in a free love reading too! As an extra apology…” you say, reaching for your small purse and pulling out one of your business cards. You practically shove it into his hands, forcing a bright smile to your face though it wavers nervously as he looks at it. “Oh, and don’t worry! A love reading requires minimum magic, no mishaps there. So don’t be shy!”

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗ 

“But this is how to find you…how will you find me?” Cassian can’t help the question, picking up on a fault in your words.

 But as he looks up from your business card, you’re already walking away.

He lets out an amused exhale, a tentative smile playing on his lips, the stain on his shirt long forgotten. He watches as you slip out of Rita’s like a shooting star. Swift and dazzling before vanishing into the night, leaving a sense of wonder in its wake.

A very bright and very pink shooting star.

And as he glances back down at the card in his hands, he finally takes a good look, the white stars on the card blinking back up at him, as if alive with celestial energy.

Stardust Soulmates. Find your path among the stars. He turns the card around, finding your information on the other side, your name glowing softly at him. Y/n D’Amore. Love witch.

“Love witch,” Cassian murmurs to himself, thumb brushing across the shimmering letters.

And in that moment, he realizes you are more than just a chance encounter. You are exactly who he needed. A gentle spark ignites from deep within...

The stars had, in fact, listened to him that night...

And perhaps this was a sign that his dreams were on the brink of coming true.

a/n: The song Love Witch's mother sings to her is actually the song from the Life Size movie, Be A Star. which might come back in the future. I made a poll for this part and it was a close call as to how Cas and you would meet. This approach was more of a flustered/shy/completely embarrassed one but worry not, the next time Cassian sees you, it will be at your shop and you'll be more self-assured and witty. I'm debating on whether Cas should drag Az with him too or go alone. Might make a poll of that too lol.

The second option was you failing in your match making skills and Cassian, who was seated next to you at the bar, calling you out on it. Either way, you were left flustered and giving him your business card.

[series masterlist]

series taglist: @mrsjna , @shadowsingercassia, @acourtofbatboydreams, @rcarbo1, @mvidaaaa ,

@stuff-i-found-while-crying , @lipstickmarks, @yamisuke , @mp-littlebit , @thecraziestcrayon

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human

[oristian]

Elain is much better suited for the male who is associated with sunshine, traveling, court gatherings, cunning and sass. The male who travelled to the mortal continent on a whim from her visions. The male who asked to learn more about her, and, six months later, remembered the detail of her being happiest while gardening with gloves—which is what he brought her for Solstice. The male who was the first and only character to verbally credit her for helping kill the King of Hybern.

The male who ran across an entire battlefield just to make sure she was alright. The male who understands that she needs space and gives her such so that she can be comfortable, despite how it pains him to be away. The male who gave up his home and best friend to come and be closer her, to get to know her. The male who saw through her murky state and declared that she needed to go outdoors—which is what ultimately helped her. The male who continues to work as an emissary for the Night Court just to be close to her. The male who is her mate, who was handpicked by a higher power just for her.

Azriel is much better suited for the female who has also experienced the depths of darkness, but chooses to smile at it instead of run and hide. The female who would rather die alongside her friend than to let her face their enemies alone. The female who pushes and pushes and never gives up, despite the circumstances. The female who sees his shadows as more than an accessory and smiles at them. The female who also lost a piece of innocence unwillingly and viewed herself as tainted and unworthy, but is making strides in improving her image of herself internally. The female who has seen him in his own darkness—the one he hides from others—and instead chooses to be around him.

The female who understands that he would rather be alone, but stays because he wants her to. The female who experiences similar responses to late-night stressors and chooses to train. The female that he feels an indescribable pull towards, and one that brings a smile to his face at just the thought of her. The female that chose bravery over fear when her friends needed her most of all. The female who thrives on knowledge and enjoys learning new things. The first female Valkyrie reborn, the first female Carynthian, a warrior. The female who has been foreshadowed to be his mate, handpicked just for him.

The list can go on and on for either of them, but long story short—I much prefer Elain and Azriel to end up with the male and female who is portrayed as their equal.

[starsreminisce]

“The Illyrians are pieces of shit,” he said too quietly. I opened my mouth and shut it. Shadows gathered around his wings, trailing off him and onto the thick red rug. “They train and train as warriors, and yet when they don’t come home, their families make us into villains for sending them to war?” “Their families have lost something irreplaceable,” I said carefully. Azriel waved a scarred hand, his cobalt Siphon glinting with the movement as his fingers cut through the air. “They’re hypocrites.”

It's not exactly a secret that Azriel harbors deep-seated issues related to his Illyrian heritage. Both his brothers are keenly aware of his feelings toward them, bordering on hatred. When HOFAS was released, revealing their rebellion against the Daglan and Enalius to align with High King Fionn, it shed light on a forgotten history. The blood rite, once a means of honoring Enalius, had devolved into a deadly competition. Against this backdrop, the Valkyries' victory in the Blood Rite stands out, with Nesta assuming the role of Enalius to protect Gwyn and Emerie's ascent to the mountain peak.

Gwyn didn’t flinch. “I have. And I am tired of it.” She surveyed the blood-soaked leather along her thigh. “I don’t want to take the safe road.” She pointed to the mountain, to the slender path upward. “I want to take that road.” Her voice thickened. “I want to take the road that no one dares travel, and I want to travel it with you two. No matter what may befall us. Not as Illyrians, not for their titles, but as something new. To prove to them, to everyone, that something new and different might triumph over their rules and restrictions.” A cold wind blew off Ramiel’s sides. Whispering, murmuring.

Gwyn's connection to Azriel extends beyond mere companionship; she represents his journey toward self-acceptance and a desire for change within the Illyrian community. It's noteworthy that Gwyn, not Nesta, is the inaugural Valkyrie and the first non-Illyrian to hold the Carynthian title.

This choice underscores Gwyn's pivotal role in Azriel's narrative and the broader arc of cultural evolution within the Illyrian society.

[gwynslibrary]

I think Antis forget that Mates are always equal. Sarah Maas said this herself. She also shows this in the books.

Gwyn + Azriel

Carynthian warriors ✅

Spy-coded ✅

Moonlight and shadow imagery ✅

Sings ✅

Uses daggers ✅

Not afraid of darkness or violence ✅

Train because sleep is not easy ✅

Competitive ✅

Connected to Dusk Court ✅

Linked to recovering Ilyria and the Prison ✅

Elain + Lucien

Not warrior characters ✅

Emissary-coded ✅

Sun and light imagery ✅

Connected to gardens and flowers ✅

Looking for peace and beauty ✅

Lost past loves ✅

Outgoing and charming ✅

Connected to Day ✅

Linked to Koschei plot ✅

It is almost like Sarah Maas planned this 🤷‍♀️

[lady-embers]

Viviane & Kallias = Gwyn & Azriel 🩵💙

The mating bond didn't snap until their wedding night, their first night together. High Lord/Lady of Winter Court. Viviane is warm, friendly, compassionate, isn't afraid to stand up for what's right, and teases Kallias. When Kallias tries to protect Viviane by pushing her behind him, she pushes him out of the way. Viviane helped fight in the war, and Kallias didn't try to stop her because I'm sure he trusted in and believed in his mate.

I have a feeling Gwyn & Azriel mating bond won't snap until either their first time together or after they profess their love for one another. Carynthian/Valkyrie warriors. Gwyn is warm, friendly, compassionate, isn't afraid to stand up for what's right, and teases Azriel. Gwyn won't let Azriel protect her. Instead, she'll stand beside him. She'll also fight beside him too because Azriel will have trust and belief in Gwyn. Kinda like he already does because of the Blood Rite situation. He knows she can protect herself even in dangerous situations.

By the time the series is done, both these pairings will have went from friends to loving one another to mates 💖

[rainingriversofyou]

“Carynthian Warriors” ⚔️🖤

Artist: bookishkoda for @gwynrielweeksofficial

[emerieweekofficial]

We're over the moon to inform you guys that we finally have the date to celebrate our first Illyrian female Carynthian—a woman with the steel of a warrior, the warmth of the sun, and an inspiration like no other.

Come and join us to celebrate Emerie of Illyria, our beloved Valkyrie, from November 24 to 30.

Art by @art-by-artemis and commissioned by @foreverinelysian

Prompts

Rules

[lovemyromance]

To the haters who somehow cannot fathom Elriel or claim SJM would never write such a couple:

Elriel is literally just Elorcan in a different font.

Broody warrior + bright soft girl

Cruel angsty fae + kind/compassionate woman who everyone protects and adores

Cold brutal tall man + kingslayer (or at least, stabber)

She has done it before. And she's doing it again.

So you can claim "Elain & Azriel are not equals because he's Carynthian and she hates violence" but that clearly hasn't stopped SJM, who has already written a 500+ yr old brooding fae male binding his life to a human female, giving up his immortality. Can't get more "unequal" than that.

And omg - look at that - they weren't mates either! So crazy! Isn't SJM a fated mates author?? Looks like... she writes other types of couples too !!

[littlest-w01f]

Hands

Cassian x Reader

For @starfallweek [hosted by: @azsazz and @writingsbychlo]

Starfall Week 2024 Masterlist

Day 4: Character A finally makes a move on Character B

Summary: Cassian just wants to hold Reader's hand

Cw: Suggestive, mentions of sex

You and Cassian had been friends for centuries, meeting in one of the Illyrian villages while he was in the streets, wearing scraps, he had left the village near Windhaven to live with the Lady Night and the Heir, he had returned Carynthian, showing up to your door, older, more mature, more handsome.

Any contempt you had for him having left you had melted away the second he was there outside your doorstep, you had run to hug him, melting in his hold as he spun you around, old friends reuniting.

New feelings emerged as the years passed, every time Cassian visited you in the little bookstore that you had taken over from your mother, your feelings grew with decades of back and forth, flirting and being friendly became a quite thin line to tightrope on.

Your father not being the worst of males letting you work and do whatever you felt like, still carrying guilt that he wasn't powerful enough to save yours and your mother's wings. Your family weren't warriors, which made you quite lesser ranked.

So, that's how you lived, in the bookstore you maintained, the bell over the door rang and you greeted whoever it was in your professional voice, "Good morning, how may I help you?"

"Cass!" You grinned ear to ear when Cassian stood in front of you, you ran around the counter and jumped on the giant in a hug, pulling away with a blush, your old feelings for the male increasing as you caught his scent, you didn't understand how you could feel for him as much as you did, his body having an effect on yours that made you almost want to slap yourself.

Cassian smiled, releasing you from the hug, giving you a gentle pat on your head, making you give him a glare, "Hello, y/n."

Cassian simply handed you a card, with three different handwritings on it, you smiled looking up at him, "They already read their last books? That's a talent." You sounded quite impressed

"Yeah," Cassian scoffed lightly, "They read smut more than they train, sitting in a little circle in the House while they have their noses buried in those raunchy books."

You smiled, already on the ladder, taking out the books that the three Valkries had listed, "You have to admit, these are some good books."

You set the books down in front of him, Cassian smiling at you, "If you say so..."

"If I say so?" You looked at him a little offended.

"Well, don't get me wrong, I love some good sex in writing myself," Cassian gave a cheeky smirk, "But these are just a male with a disproportionally large dick piping down an oh-so-tiny female."

You raised your brow at him, "Like you?"

"Oh no no," Cassian flared his wings fully, winking at you, "I am very propotionate."

You blushed softly, your eyes on his wings, "Aren't you modest..." You mumble sarcastically.

"Well, I'm not..." Cassian looked down at the pile of books, "And maybe... You could help me get these back to the House." He looked at you hopefully, while you were packing the books in some bags.

"I can't fly up..." You were slightly confused, "And if you carry me it'll be all the more difficult for you..."

"It's Starfall tonight." He looked nervous, "Stay for Starfall at the House." You waited for him to continue, hope bubbling in you at the sudden change in conversation, "Stay with me."

You smiled, "With you?" You repeated.

"Yeah, and maybe if you do like me the way I like you by the end of the festivities, we could be more than friends?" Cassian was hopeful.

"Yes!" You replied a little too fast, then cleared your throat before saying again, "Yes."

"You know..." Cassian's cheeks coloured, reaching his hand out. "I just want to hold your hand."

You raised your brow at him, "That's all, General?" Moving your hand to be moulded around his.

Cassian shrugged, "Yes, of course." You didn't miss his body's reaction to the title from your lips.

And he did hold your hands, all throughout Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie "oooh"ing at your joint hands, before diving into their newly acquired books.

He held your hands during Starfall, smiling watching both you and the sky.

He held your hands after, while eating and drinking, while introducing you formally as partners to his close family.

He held your hands over your head, taking you on his bed, wings flaring, groans and moans loud in the room.

He held your hands over your back, having you on your knees as he took you from behind, his very proportionate cock filling you up perfectly.

{General taglist: @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria}

[officialrhysandweek]

Rhysand Week 2024 Prompts!

art by arz28

Sunday 8/18: Day One

Adolescence: Rhysand grew up with a loving Illyrian mother and as far as we know, a cold, distant High Fae father. His half Illyrian heritage lead for an interesting childhood growing up in the camps. Let's use day 1 to explore our High Lords youth! What was he like as a child? What was it like growing up alongside Cassian and Azriel?

Monday 8/19: Day Two

Carynthian: One out of only a handful of Illyrian warriors to win the Blood Rite and walk away with the title "Carynthian", he is one of the best warriors on Prythian. His Carynthian title is the counterpart to his title of High Lord, and is one of the highest honors in his Illyrian culture.

Tuesday 8/20: Day Three

Loved Ones: From his fallen mother and sister to his brothers Azriel and Cassian, his cousin Morrigan, his mentor Amren, and his mate and son Feyre Archeron and Nyx, Rhysand is surrounded by loved ones both lost and found. How does his relationship with them change over time? What was his relationship like with his mother and sister? How did he and his friends mourn them?

Wednesday 8/21: Day Four

Lord of Night: The Night Court is the most polarizing and scandalous court in Prythian, and he serves as its Lord. There's both beauty and darkness in the Night Court and as one of its leaders Rhysand must navigate these things. How does he do it? What does it truly mean to be the Lord of Night?

Thursday 8/22: Day Five

Survivor: Brutal training in the Illyrian camps as a child, weeks of torture at Amarantha's hands during the war 500 years ago, 50 years trapped Under the Mountain, and even more that we humble readers likely haven't even gotten to read about. Rhysand is a survior through and through, how does it shape him? Is there anything you imagine he's survived that we haven't gotten to look at?

Friday 8/23: Day Six

Worlds Axis: "This was not a male to be fucked with. None of these people were, but this one... Authority rippled off him. As if he was the entire axis of this place." Hybern, Amarantha, the Prison and Dusk, Fionn, the cauldron... The key players of this world surround our High Lord and him and his family are always the ones to make the first move. Why is the magic of this world so drawn to him? What wonders does Rhysand have in store for us in future books?

Saturday 8/24: Day Seven

Free Day: Give us Rhysand or give us death! Show us all your Rhys ideas, the sky is your limit!

Please feel encouraged to take as much or as little inspiration from the prompts as you would like when creating your posts! Last years guidelines still apply so please consider checking those out. Let us know if you have any questions!

[elains]

Azriel's association with Enalius, what it means for his arc and Illyria

This is something me and my friends have talked about off tumblr, but I wanted to write my own post about it and gather my thoughts. But here, I'll discuss a bit Azriel's character and how the revelations we witness in House of Flame and Shadow will be important to his character. (+ a little bit of Emerie).

What do we know about Enalius? From ACOSF, Emerie provides us with a little exposition when they are in the Rite, when the Pass of Enalius is brought up:

Long ago—so long ago they don’t even have a precise date for it—a great war was fought between the Fae and the ancient beings who oppressed them. One of its key battles was here, in these mountains. Our forces were battered and outnumbered, and for some reason, the enemy was desperate to reach the stone at the top of Ramiel. We were never taught the reason why; I think it’s been forgotten. But a young Illyrian warrior named Enalius held the line against the enemy soldiers for days.

Now, from the Crescent City crossover, we learned that Truth-teller and Gwydion are twin blades. They are a pair. According to the Silene History Lesson, the dagger used to belong to her father's (Fionn's) dear friend, slain during the war. A bit later, when they find Vesperus, she confirms that this friend was Enalius:

The Asteri’s eyes flared with recognition at the long blade. “Did Fionn send you, then? To slay me in my sleep? Or was it that traitor Enalius? I see that you bear his dagger—as his emissary? Or his assassin?”

Immediately before that, she also confirms that the Asteri crafted (which can either mean created, shaped forged, but we are going with created) the Illyrians:

The Asteri’s blue eyes lowered to the dagger. “You dare draw a weapon before me? Against those who crafted you, soldier, from night and pain?”

From everything, we can conclude this: Enalius was the original wielder of Truth-teller before Fionn and Theia, a dear friend to Fionn, and someone who pulled the ultimate sacrifice to keep the Asteri/Daglan from reaching the top of Ramiel. He was a traitor to the Asteri, a rebel against his masters and everything they stood for.

Enalius is the hero most Illyrians strive to mimic, the legendary figure who they all hope to one day surpass. He's a symbol of their people, even if so much about him has been forgotten — the fact that he had a dagger, Fionn's friendship, what the battle was for, maybe even how he was as a person. Brave, for sure. Willing to die for the cause.

And it's Azriel who bears his dagger. Azriel, who has such a complicated relationship with his Illyrian heritage and loaths it - and by extension, himself - is the one with this enormous legacy right at this hand. And this matters.

Still in ACOSF, we have Rhys talking with Cassian and wanting him to play Courtier, the following exchange then follows:

“What, we’re doing some role reversal? Az gets to lead the Illyrians now?” “Don’t play stupid,” Rhys said coolly. Cassian rolled his eyes. But they both knew Azriel would sooner disband and destroy Illyria than help it. Convincing their brother that the Illyrians were a people worth saving was still a battle amongst the three of them.

Azriel hates the Illyrians for what happened to him and his mother and his dislike for them is, to a degree, understandable. The thing is that Azriel, no matter how much he loaths it, is Illyrian. Maybe he's more than that (as it's pointed that Az is different in a lot of ways and Bryce wonders if he is Starborn), but at heart, he's Illyrian. Siphons, leathers, fighting, being Carynthian, his wings, his scabbard and the dagger it holds.

It was healthy, perhaps, for Az to sometimes remember where he'd come from. He still wore the Illyrian leathers. Had not tried to get the tattoos removed. Some part of him was Illyrian still. Always would be. Even if he wished to forget it.

Being Illyrian is part of who he is and his deep hatred for them only fuel his self-loathing. He would like to set himself apart, but he is not.

We can actually draw a direct parallel between Azriel and Bryce with how they regard the Fae vs the Illyrians. Bryce loathes the Fae and for most of HoFaS, she believes they are evil, corrupt, power-hungry and quite generally, not worth saving. She would leave them all to burn. Sound familiar?

And Bryce is wrong. Sathia challenges her notion, pointing out that she's laying judgement to all fae and that is hardly fair. What the one who don't deserve it? Herself, yes, but Flynn, Declan, and Ruhn himself? Do they deserve to burn too? Bryce herself acknowledges this:

Urd had sent her there to see, even in the small fraction of their world that she’d witnessed, that Fae existed who were kind and brave. She might have had to betray Nesta and Azriel, trick them … but she knew that at their cores, they were good people. The Fae of Midgard were capable of more. Ruhn proved it. Flynn and Dec proved it. Even Sathia proved it, in the short time Bryce had known her.

And this part here sums up quite neatly:

Fire met starlight met shadows, and Bryce loosed herself on the world. It ended today. Here. Now. This had nothing to do with the Asteri, or Midgard. The Fae had festered under leaders like these males, but her people could be so much more.

There are Illyrians who are kind and brave and break the mold. We see this with Emerie, who is also a woman. We see that with Balthazar, Cassian. The main point stands, though, that you cannot judge or condemn an entire race for the bad apples.

Azriel is wrong, just as Bryce was wrong, and his journey will be also to realise that his people are worth saving. They were created of night and pain (words that Azriel embodies, being a master of shadows and a torturer), but that is not everything they need to be. They can be more than soldiers. They can thrive.

And I believe this was something Enalius himself came to the believe, long ago. His people deserved more than to be slaves to the Asteri, forced to give them their power when need be, bred to live and die for them. They could be more. And Enalius died to free his people from their chains.

Is Azriel Enalius's blooded descendant? I'm not sure, but he doesn't need to be. Azriel is Enalius successor because he will finish what was started. He'll uncover the secrets of the past, what his people were in truth, what Enalius rebelled for, what he stood for, what the Blood Rite truly means - which he only got a glimpse of.

And this is where I think Emerie will also come in. She's s one of ACOSF most relevant characters and the first female Illyrian to be Carynthian. I think Emerie will also become an inspirational figure to the Illyrian women, another of these what they coud be. What they can be. And more importantly and that is just a theory, what they were.

Orestes was a warrior. What if so was Carynth and she was woman? The name always struck me as similar to Carina, which is the name of a constellation and commonly used by women. It would be ironic and another shaking revelation to the Illyrians that Carynth, for whom their greatest warriors are named after, was a woman.

Does that mean all Illyrian women must become Valkyries? No, but some might wish to follow this path whilst their society takes its time to catch up. They already shook the status quo and with Nesta poised to have a big role (andthe Valkyries along her), they will continue to do so.

Azriel will uncovered the lost history of Vesperus offered him all the clues he needed to start looking. His journey to find out this secrets will lead to him facing his own demons, confronting his loathing for his people and, in doing so, he will make peace with himself.

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Twenty-Two

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Healing wounds, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: You heal with Azriel by your side after the Blood Rite.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Seventeen - Eighteen - Nineteen - Twenty - Twenty-One

She’s your mate. 

It was the only consistent thing that flowed through Azriel’s mind the entire week. It snapped the moment you were winnowed away for the Rite. They never do it the same week of the year, never start it on the same day. And he felt it, saw a glimmer of gold in your eyes just for a moment before you were gone.

It took everything in him to not disturb the Rite. Rhys practically had to use his High Lord’s voice. He was waiting for his own mate to open up to him. But at least Feyre was safe. She wasn’t in the middle of the deadliest challenge for any Illyrian. Any Fae. Cassian, Rhys, and him barely survived it and they were the deadliest warriors alive. 

But he knew you were alive. Even if the bond was buried because of the spells surrounding the Rite. He knew that if you died, he would feel it. Feel the emptiness. He kept his faith in you. Cassian and him trained you. Well. He tested you in the mountains. He watched you complete the qualifying course. Witnessed as you took down male after male in sparring challenges. You would be fine. He repeated the two things you promised him. 

She will survive. She will reach the mountain.

He added a third thing, for himself. 

She’s my mate.

It turned into a mantra in his head. To be able to sit and wait. And do absolutely nothing else. 

Survive. Mountain. Mate. 

Azriel stared down at your body as it twitched unconsciously from the wounds. So many broken bones. You wouldn’t fly for a month. If… if your wings weren’t broken beyond repair. His shadows told him the broken wings were recent. He could have sworn one of your tendons was cut. Just as the Rite came to an end. There were three males that were sneering with laughter at your state. They didn’t stay alive long when Rhys heard them. They were nothing but red dust two seconds later. 

And then there was your brother, Varyn. He was about a finger’s length away from touching the monolith atop Ramiel. But he held back because he wouldn’t have made it because of you. And if you weren’t going to be crowned Carynthian, neither was he. 

Azriel fell to his knees beside you, involuntary tears falling from his cheeks. He reached down, wanting to heal everything but not knowing where to start. His shadows swirled around your wounds, his Siphon patching up small cuts. He didn’t even tell or try to do any of it. You were unconscious. And he bet you wouldn’t be awake for a while. He prayed to the Mother that you would wake up at all. 

Rhys kneeled on the other side of you. “We’ll take her to the town home.” He said. “Madja will take care of her. Az…” 

Azriel told the rest of the Inner Circle the day after you were taken. He had been agitated and ready to go fight for his life. For your life. Be sentenced to death just to take you out of the wretched ritual. 

“Az… she’s breathing. Her heart is beating. She will be okay.” Rhysand said, reached out to hold his brother’s shoulder, and took your hand as he winnowed to the town home. 

You awoke to a blinding pain. In every single spot of your body. It was too much, too much to bear. Someone was patching your wounds. Magic was patching your wounds. You heard your mate’s voice, soothing you through it. That was the only thing you continued to hear as you fell unconscious again. 

Azriel sat at your bedside for the entire week. Missing the visit with the queens where Rhys showed them Velaris. You only awoke to writhe in pain every now and then. Madja was doing everything she could to keep you sedated. Your wounds were healing but it was slower than normal. You were basically a human when they were inflicted, and the process of healing was different because of it. Not to mention the odd herbs that the three males drugged you with that were still in your system when the wounds were inflicted. Madja knew they were also slowing the healing down. 

Azriel only left the town home to defend the city when it was attacked. And to go to Hybern to infiltrate it. Feyre was taken to the Spring Court. His High Lady. His brother’s mate. And his own mate couldn’t even open her eyes because of the pain she was in. Rhys brought in another bed just so Azriel could heal with you after Hybern tore his wings. 

Each of the Inner Circle took turns watching the two of you, trying to get Azriel to get up to eat, or to rest. He needed to heal from Hybern’s destruction of his wings, but he wouldn’t leave your side. 

Rhys even allowed Varyn to come visit when his wound healed within a few days. He only stayed long enough to learn that you were getting better. Then he returned to Valorworth for training. 

Azriel didn’t leave the room once Feyre was gone… And when he was healed, Rhys needed him on missions. But, Az was too distracted with your healing to do any real work, so his shadows took his place.  

Another thing that Azriel couldn’t wrap his head around. Your shadows were gone. There were none swirling around you, none comforting your wounds with their cool touch. He wondered if the spell from the Rite worked too well and kept them away. But his came back the second it ended. Were you no longer a Shadowsinger? Or did you no longer need the shadows to survive? Questions swirled in his brain, every second he sat by your side, waiting for you to wake up. Not in pain. Or long enough for him to hold you and declare you his mate. When the spell from the Rite ended at dawn, it became so strong he knew you felt it too. It was still buried, and wouldn’t take full effect until both of you accepted it, but it was there. 

Feyre had been in the Spring Court for two weeks when you finally woke up. 

Azriel was sleeping in what looked to be a very uncomfortable position while Cassian was sharpening a blade beside him. You jolted up at the sound of the blade against the sharpener, eyes wide. The last thing you remembered was the pure agony you were in. And then a terrible dream about Azriel’s wings shredding. Was that on top of Ramiel? Was it somewhere else? Was it even real?

Cassian hit Azriel’s arm, so hard that the former growled as he shifted. He was about to tell his brother off when he saw you were awake. And you looked terrified. 

Azriel said your name once as he got up, moving closer to you. His wings were still scarred from healing. You must have not heard him because your eyes were glued to the blade that Cassian was holding. Cassian noticed your gaze and quickly put the blade into its sheath. 

You flinched when you felt a hand on your shoulder, backing into the bed as much as you could. Until your eyes met the hazel ones you had been so deeply dreaming of. Your mate’s eyes. Azriel’s eyes. 

“Azriel…” you whispered. The small, gentle smile on his face broke you. You let out a sob, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your head into his chest as you cried. You let out wail after wail, muttering everything that happened when you were in the Rite. The males you killed. Your brother. Your wounds. He could barely understand all of it, but his shadows translated for him. You sobbed into his chest until you had fallen back asleep. He had laid down beside you, holding you. He didn’t want you waking up again without knowing you were safe. In Velaris. With him. 

Your wounds were mostly healed by that morning when you woke up. All but your leg and your wing. You were in no more physical pain. But you knew that the past four weeks of you sleeping would be the most you’d get in a while. You curled into Azriel’s side, breathing in his scent. It was enough to bring tears to your eyes again. You had been through so much, and yet all you wanted to do was lay with Azriel and give him a cookie. A biscuit. Anything so you could declare your love and your acceptance.

Azriel felt you shift, leaning his head down to look at you. There was no terror in your eyes this time. It was only what he knew to be love. “Hi sweetheart.” He whispered, moving some hair from your face. “How are you feeling?” He asked. 

You moved your wings, wincing as your left wing shuttered from the stretch. “Like a whole female.” You half joked, a small smile coming to your lips. “I have something to tell you.” You whispered. You couldn’t wait longer to say it. Azriel responded with a hum of anticipation. “Azriel… I love you.” You whispered. 

His smile grew, lighting up those gorgeous hazel eyes. You could’ve sworn you saw a golden hue flash through them. “I love you, sweetheart.” He whispered. 

“And…” you said, sitting up ever so slightly so you could fully see him. “You are my mate.” 

His smile was the biggest you’d ever seen. “And you’re mine.”

A/N: We are wrapping things up! I have a few more chapters left (as indicated on the masterlist). I'm thinking of either a second series or a few sequel drabbles...

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