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bldhrry · 5 months ago

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A Court of Passion and Daydreams

Chapter Nine | Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus Azriel x OC!Reader Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Series Masterlist | General Masterlist

word count: 10.6k

warnings: cursing, violence, mention of sa, sexual innuendo

author's note: sorry this took so long! i had a lot i wanted to write and then i had company over which pushed the writing n editing back. thank you to @saltedcoffeescotch for the idea about reader (possibly) being w someone else. thank you for the support so far n i hope u guys like it; lmk what you think!

Nobody knew exactly what had happened during Celestia’s Blood Rite. Everyone had assumed, of course, but whenever asked she would wave the question away, demanding to never be asked about it again, and for the rest of the day would simmer in her own thoughts.

The room was quiet after she left, everyone either looking at each other or staring into space.

“Is that going to happen to us?” Gwyn asked after moments of silence.

“No.” Nesta declared, looking at Emorie and Gwyn in the eyes. “No, it will not.”

Azriel padded up the steps, his shadows blanketing the noise on the hardwood. He didn’t really know what he was doing or what his goal was with his final destination but he didn’t really care. His chest ached for the trauma that she had carried for her these past five centuries. He knew, deep down he knew, but it was never confirmed and he never let his shadows find out. That was her story to tell. He knew the Blood Rite was violent for males, but it was a nightmare for females.

He arrived at her door and he stood in front of it for a while, debating on knocking or walking away. He could hear her muffled sobs through the door and his gut, its golden glow, was turning into a deep, cold shade of blue, almost like it was mimicking her mood.

He walked backwards, his back hitting the wall and he stood there, leaning against it with his hands in his pockets and his ankles crossed. He would sit here until he could go in or until he knew she was asleep.

Footsteps sounded to his right and he didn’t react, his shadows announcing Feyre’s presence. She came into view, waddling slightly with her hand on her belly. She was 6 months pregnant and her stomach was huge, making it difficult to walk or sit.

She gave him a soft smile and leaned against the wall next to him, sighing. “How is she?”

He shook his head, his hair falling in front of his face.

She hummed and they stared at the door. She wasn’t crying anymore, but they hadn’t heard her move from wherever she laid.

“You should go in there.”

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

Feyre clicked her tongue and smirked. “You think too lowly of yourself Azriel. She acts fine, but she still cries all the time. When she thinks she’s alone she stares out the window and looks at the House like she’s waiting for something. She’s depressed and she misses you. It’s not fair for you to reject and keep the bond from her.”

He jerked away from her and stared at her with wide, shocked eyes. “How did you-”

She chuckled and waved her hand. “Rhysand.” Azriel narrowed her eyes and she placed her hand on his chest. “The secret is safe with me. But I still meant what I said.”

“Loud mouth bastard,” he muttered.

She put her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “What makes it worse is that he told me immediately after you left.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and groaned.

They sat in silence, watching her door. There was light sneaking its way out from under her door, but she still hadn’t moved.

“You should go to her,” Feyre said again, breaking the silence.

Azriel started to shake his head, his fists balling in his pockets, but Feyre gripped his arm, giving it a light squeeze. “Go.”

And with that she left, waddling down the hall to her room.

He couldn’t argue with his High Lady, so without knocking he walked into Celestia’s room.

She was laying on the mat in her bathroom, her hair covering her face and her side rising and falling with each breath.

Moving to his knees behind her, he moved her hair from her face, gathering it at the nape of her neck in his fist. She roused slightly and opened her eyes, peering up at him. She groaned and buried her face in the mat.

“Get up, Princess.” He murmured, grabbing her shoulders and bringing her to her knees.

She weakly attempted to push him away. “Don’t call them that.”

He felt a crack spreading across his heart.

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” she spat out, looking at him with bloodshot eyes. Despite her puffy eyes and red cheeks and the tears and snot that had dried on her face, she looked beautiful.

He cupped her cheek and sighed. “Yes I am.”

She snarled and moved her head away from him. “You’re being cruel.”

Another crack.

“You left me.”

“I did.”

She looked at him and her eyes were so void of expression. The stars in her eyes that twinkled when she smiled, or laughed, or simply when she would look at him, were gone, leaving her violet eyes bare.

She let out a sob and pulled herself up, using the bathroom sink. He stayed on his knees as she rinsed her mouth and made her way towards the bed. She moved slowly, running her hands through her hair, fanning her neck.

He got up and followed her and moved towards her dresser, picking out night clothes. She had sat on the bed at this point and was holding her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. He placed her clothes beside her and fell to his knees in front of her again, rubbing her calves. She moved her hands to grip the edge of the bed and looked down at him.

The bond came alive slowly as they looked at each other and there was nothing but adoration in their eyes for one another. And she tried to fight the feeling, but the tether in her gut began to move, knocking around for an exit to him. She loved him and she missed him and here he was kneeling before her, gripping her legs like he never wanted her to leave.

“You left me,” she said again, her voice a whisper.

“I know,” he whispered back.

Her brows came together and she tilted her head, tears building in her eyes. He sat up straighter, cupping her face with his hands and she sighed into it and he suppressed a sob as he leaned forward, their foreheads touching.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Stop saying that,” she whimpered.

“But I am.”

“You’re going to leave me again.” She declared, moving her head to his neck.

“I know.” His confession sat heavily in the air. He was leaving in the morning on a scouting mission with Eris, much to his disbelief. They had gotten information that the Queens would be meeting with Koschei so they were going together to try and get any information they could from it.

Celestia sniffed and leaned back, keeping her hands on Azriel’s shoulders. She leaned her head upwards, her eyes closed as she fought back whimpers and whines; her body was on fire again and she yearned for his touch and it was making her cry. She was so conflicted: she ached for the loss of him and she knew he would never come back to her, but here he was, kneeling in front of her, his hands wrapped around her legs. He was so familiar to her and she knew she would never feel this way again; she would never hear the hum that vibrated through her chest when she saw him or the way she felt ignited when he touched her or the way the tether in her gut would rise and glow when his hazel eyes met her.

She huffed out a breath and wiped her eyes, moving her legs to the side so she could get up. He leaned back, letting her move and watched as she got up from the bed and took the clothes he had given her.

“I’m going to bed,” she announced. She didn’t bother to go to the bathroom, she just turned her back to him and got undressed. He got up and turned around too, leaning against the bedpost.

He didn’t turn around until he felt the bed dip and she nestled under the covers. He turned and looked at her and sighed, biting his lip. She looked peaceful and beautiful under the ivory colored comforter and her curly hair spread around her like her own personal halo.

He felt pathetic as he asked, “will you have me tonight Princess?”

She didn’t verbally respond, instead just pulling the covers back opening a spot for him to lay down. The tether called out to her, screaming her name and confessing the truth and he found himself stripping to his underwear and getting into bed.

Her back was to him and he was okay with it. He was okay with relishing in her scent and admiring his view. He should’ve been ashamed but he wasn’t as he pulled her close until they were touching and he buried his face in her hair. She relaxed in his touch, letting out a quiet moan and he fought the feeling of guilt and tears as it overtook his senses.

He had sacrificed his dignity to keep her safe and protected from the monster that was him and he regretted it. Maybe it was selfish to regret it and maybe it was selfish to want to have her all to himself; he missed the confidence she gave him and the way that she would act as though he wasn’t disfigured and riddled with sin. But the nagging question kept coming back: what did he have to offer her? Did he make her confident? Did he make her forget all the sins she had committed? The uncertainty is what validated his decision to leave, but yet here he was with his arms wrapped around her body, learning every nook and cranny by heart.

He fell asleep that night confessing everything to her from his love, to the bond, his regrets, and his wishes.

She woke the next morning to an empty, cold bed. Reaching behind her to where she had felt his warm and firm body, she found nothing but space and cold sheets. She sighed, rubbing her face.

She had dreamt of Stanis and she could feel the heat of the fire on her face as his men held her down and she could feel the way Stanis traced his fingers on her exposed back. She had fought against it, screaming and begging for her life, but he didn’t stop. She had woken up in a cold sweat and began to panic at the pressure around her waist and on her back. A soft groan was emitted behind her and she froze, starting to whimper, but whoever it was just pulled her closer and let out a breath in her ear.

It was Azriel.

His scent washed over her and she sighed with relief, her body relaxing. His show of strength as he kept her glued to his chest sent waves of reassurement through her body and she melted in his touch and even though they were already pressed against one another, she leaned into him further basking in the comfort he brought, even if it was for just one night.

The tether in her gut was usually wild and tense with need when he was around, but for once it was calm and as she closed her she could feel its physical presence inside of her and how taunt it became when it wrapped around Azriel and then her and for the first time, unbeknownst to her, they were joined together by the bond.

Azriel was gone for three months and Celestia didn’t see or hear about him until Feyre went into labor, leaving her and Cassian to train Nesta, Emorie, and Gwyn and seeing them off to the Blood Rite. The week they were away was excruciating and Cassian found himself sick most nights worrying about his mate. Celestia could do nothing but reassure him that she was going to not only survive, but win; she was strong, capable, and cunning, and she would be the one to get the rest of the females to Ramiel.

And she did.

Gwyn and Emorie were the first one to come back, stating that Nesta had stayed behind to fight off Bellius and his men so that Emorie could bring Gwyn back for medical attention. Nesta was brought back as dawn peaked over the mountain top.

Three months later, Celestia was busying herself running around the Manor grabbing supplies for Madja that she hadn’t noticed Azriel had entered the house.

He walked around aimlessly trying to find someone until he bumped into Celestia who was carrying bandages and a basin of water.

“Oh Gods!” She shrieked, the basin falling to the floor and water spilling everywhere. Without even looking at him she fell to the floor and started to pick up the pieces.

“If you’re here to help Madja, she's upstairs. Down the hallway and take a left; the door is open.” She continued, picking up the pieces.

Azriel knelt down and she froze, seeing his scarred hands in front of her. Slowly, she looked up at him and looked into his sultry hazel eyes. Her eyes were brighter than he had seen them in a while and they were gorgeous; a light violet color like wild wisteria flowers.

“I’m sorry. I was trying to find everyone,” he said sheepishly.

“It’s fine,” she breathed out, wiping her hands on her apron.

With a wave of her hand, the pieces went back together and the water was replaced with fresh, warm water.

“Can you carry this? I need to grab more towels.” Before he could respond, she pushed the bowl into his hands and got up, making her way to the linen closet.

After grabbing what she needed, she made her way to the grand staircase, beckoning her head for him to follow her. Together they climbed the stairs and she filled him in on what had happened since Feyre went into labor: she had gone into labor that morning, a month early, and was having difficulty passing the wings and shoulders through her cervix; she was losing blood and was falling in and out of consciousness, making it difficult to get the babe out.

She found it difficult to talk to him so casually. He had left her, came back, laid in her bed, and left her again. She was angry and sad and miserable and wanted to know what he felt and what he was thinking. Did he miss her like she did? She had doubts he did; if he did then why would he leave her and act like he didn’t miss her? He never seemed as distraught as she had and she was angry about it. Did he wonder where she was like she did? She constantly thought about how his day was and what he was seeing. Did he ever see something and think of her? She shook her head as they entered Feyre and Rhysand’s bedroom; she couldn’t care anymore, in fact she wouldn’t care anymore.

The labor was strenuous and lasted hours, but Nyx was born and everyone let out a collective sigh when Feyre opened her eyes and asked for the babe.

Azriel left again, this time for a year and would return on Nyx’s birthday.

Celestia was outside with Nyx, playing with him on the back lawn. She was holding him up so he could grab at the air and the bugs flying around. She laughed when he would grab the air and gasped when he would open her palm to show her nothing. He was a joyous boy and was always laughing or smiling. When he wasn’t with Rhysand or Feyre, he was with Celestia, the only person on the Inner Court who could be with him alone.

Azriel, Cassian, Rhsysand, and Eris sat in Rhysand’s office with Feyre combing through the information that Azriel and Eris had gathered about the Queens, Beron, and their meetings.

“If they do what they’re planning, then the entire Continent is in trouble,” Feyre muttered, annoyed, reading through the notes again.

Everyone nodded and Cassia sighed, rubbing his hands on his face. “You were right, Eris. We should’ve killed your father when we had the chance.”

Eris snorted, “no shit.”

This made Azriel roll his eyes; gods he hated him. When he wasn’t thinking about throttling Eris, he was watching Celestia outside, bouncing Nyx on her hip and pointing at various things in the distance. His heart fluttered when she would throw her head back and laugh. The bond sang when she blew raspberries on his cheek and Nyx grabbed her face, giggling. He hated this past year being away from her. The bond held stronger this time, which surprised him, and he could almost feel her every move even though he was in the mortal lands. He never once thought to tug on it and send something down it like a thought or feeling, but as he sat watching her he wondered what would have happened if he did.

Her spirit was bright and she glowed in the sunlight as she twirled Nyx around in her arms. The tether in her gut glowed and sang as she looked at Nyx as he slept on her shoulder. She had killed many sons in her life, but she couldn’t even fathom anything happening to him. He was so beautiful and bubbly and she looked forward to spending time with him whenever Feyre and Rhysand asked.

She had moved back to her apartment after Nyx was born and she wasn’t worried about it like she once was. She didn’t even think about Azriel when she slept in her bed or organized her kitchen. In fact, she hadn’t thought about him in months.

When Azriel looked back out into the back lawn, Celestia wasn’t there and he felt a twinge of despair entering his body. He wanted to see her again; actually, he needed to see her again. He tuned back into the conversation, giving his thoughts and opinions on the current situation.

After a few minutes of discussion, footsteps could be heard padding quietly in the hallway outside the office door. Everyone turned around as Celestia gingerly turned the knob and pushed the door open with her foot.

“Feyre, I was wondering if you-” she stopped when she saw Azriel. He was just as beautiful as when she saw him last. He was more tanned and his hair was longer, swooping across his forehead and his eyes, oh his eyes, looked up at her and it made her stop in her tracks. Her entire body flushed with heat and it spread to the tether in her stomach which began to rise and knock around, motioning for her to move towards him.

But she didn’t. Instead she stayed by the opened door, clutching Nyx closer to her chest. She cleared her throat and averted her eyes to Feyre and Rhysand.

“Feyre, I was wondering if you wanted to take him or you wanted me to put him down upstairs.” Her voice was hushed so as to not wake him.

Feyre made her way towards her with her arms outstretched. “I’ll take him. Thank you.”

Celestia just nodded, side eyeing Azriel.

She nodded towards Eris and Cassian in greeting and turned back around, following Feyre.

Eris had his head cocked to the side, sniffing the air. And as he looked between Azriel and the opened door, his eyes widened with realization and he started laughing.

“No fucking way,” he exclaimed with a grin.

Azriel just growled.

Starfall came weeks later and Celestia smiled the entire day. She loved Starfall; seeing the spirits dash through the sky made her think of her mothers. She wondered if they had only passed through once or if they were able to find a way to come every year to see her and Rhysand. She wondered if they would come this year and see how happy Rhysand was with Feyre and Nyx.

Her chest caved slightly at the thought. She wasn’t jealous of her brother, but she just wished she had what he did. She had lost Azriel and she knew she wouldn’t get him back. He was the loss of her life and she feared she would never recover or find someone else that made her feel the way he did. She cleared her throat and interrupted her downward spiral; she couldn’t think that way because she simply didn’t know that. She didn’t know whether or not she would find her person and she shouldn’t close herself off from the idea because of her heartbreak.

Rhysand had invited the other High Lords to Starfall to officially introduce his son, heir, and Prince of the Night Court. Nobody had known of Feyre’s pregnancy for fear that they would be targeted due to the strength of Feyre’s power; the worry was that she would birth a babe stronger than any other High Fae and if she was capable of that then she could for other High Lords. Celestia understood the fear.

Rhysand had gotten her a necklace of her birth constellation, Aries, for her birthday that March which coincidentally fell on Starfall. The card wished her a happy birthday, that he loved her and, “don’t mind Nyx, you’re still Princess of the Court.” She laughed at the note; she didn’t care for her title. She would gladly be part of the Court and support Nyx’s succession when the time came.

She finished tying her dress and after putting her heels on, she headed to the House of Wind to join the group. She was giddier than usual that night. Since Rhysand had invited the High Lords that meant she would see Tarquin who had succeeded his father and taken the title. She loved him dearly and he was her best friend when she lived at the Summer Court.

She landed on the balcony of the House and tucked in her wings and made her way to the dining room. She found Helion, Tarquin, Varian, Kallias, and Thesan already there. The entire Inner Court was there too: Azriel, Cassian, Amren, Mor, Feyre, Rhysand, Elain, Lucien, and Nesta. Tamlin and Beron were absent for obvious reasons.

“Oh,” she blushed. “Sorry I’m late.”

Thesan walked over and gave her a big hug, lifting her in the air. “A queen as beautiful as you can never be late,” he said, giving her cheeks a kiss.

“Oh please,” she swatted at his chest. “Don’t say that too loud or Feyre just might kill you.” She laughed and Feyre just waved at him with her fingers in a threateningly but playful manner.

Celestia greeted the rest of the High Lords, giving Tarquin the biggest and longest hug. “I’ve missed you,” she murmured against his shoulder.

He kissed her cheeks and hummed.

Dinner commenced shortly after, filled with stories, laughter, and discussions of what Eris and Azriel had uncovered thus far about the Queens, Koschei and Beron.

“You know what my favorite memory of Celestia is?” Varian said after a while, crunching on a piece of broccoli.

She looked at him inquisitively and everyone hushed.

“The day she got her wings.”

Celestia’s face flushed red and she shook her head. “Varian, don’t you dare.” She warned.

Amren chuckled, “oh please do tell.”

Varian took a sip eyeing Celestia who was frantically shaking her.

“So, one day…” he dragged the word on as Celestia groaned.

“One day,” he started again, “we were in practice for our powers and we kept splashing water on her and she was getting so mad. She kept yelling at us to stop and throwing stars on our faces, but we just kept going until she threw a ball of what looked like the night sky and all of a sudden the biggest wings I have ever seen in my life just erupted behind her.” He laughed and Tarquin chuckled.

“We thought one of you guys,” gesturing to Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel, “were behind her, but no it was her. She freaks out because of the weight and starts failing around screaming, ‘what the fuck is this,’ and ‘what the fuck is happening,’ to the point she falls over the edge of the balcony and falls right into the ocean.”

Everyone erupted into laughter and Celestia just put her head in her hands, face burning with embarrassment.

“And then because her wings were so heavy she couldn’t get out and we had to drag her to shore.” Varian snorted and put his glass down, his laugh loud causing everyone to keep laughing.

“So, how big are your wings?” Asked Vivane, Kallias’ mate.

“Bigger than all of ours,” Cassian said darkly. He always hated that her wings were bigger.

“Oh, wow,” Thesan leaned back in his seat and started to look between Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian, and even Feyre.

“It’s a shame Feyre never saw my wings before she made hers or else they would be bigger than mine.” Celestia shot Feyre a wink and Feyre stuck her tongue out at her.

Thesan hummed, looking Celestia up and down. “Maybe that’s why-”

Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel snarled in unison and Thesan put his hands up. “I’m just saying if there’s a connection between males and their wings then there has to be a connection with females.”

Celestia rolled her eyes and cut a piece of her steak.

“Why did it take you so long to get them?” Asked Helion, studying her.

She shrugged. “Nobody knows, but apparently my mother was pissed about it and blamed my father and his ‘stupid Night Court bullshit.’” She smiled at the thought.

Everyone laughed and dinner resumed.

Night came and everyone gathered on various balconies to watch the spectacle and Celestia found herself alone. She leaned against the railing and sighed, looking upwards at the sky, watching the spirits fly by. She didn’t like touching them as she feared it would disrupt their journey and they wouldn’t make it to wherever they were going.

“Mind if I join you?” Said a voice and she whirled around to find Tarquin leaning against the stone doorway. She laughed and turned around and he stood next to her.

“I always found this to be fascinating,” he breathed out in wonder.

“It’s my favorite holiday.”

“And your birthday,” he took her hand. She looked at their connected hands and something in her wailed.

“Yeah, it is,” she smiled and looked back up.

“I got you something.” He announced, pulling a box out of his pocket.

“Oh? You didn’t need to.” She was flustered. She was always awkward receiving gifts.

He waved her off, shushing her. “I wanted to. Now, close your eyes and hold your hand out.”

She rolled her eyes but did just that and felt something cold and metallic around her wrist.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered and when she looked down a gold bracelet hung from her wrist adorned with charms. They were an assortment of different charms; some were of shells, waves, sea creatures, and the symbol of the Summer Court.

She blushed and looked at him. “Thank you. It’s gorgeous.”

He just nodded and put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the railing and she resumed her previous position. They looked up at the sky together and listened to the music in the city below.

“I love this song.” She sighed, moving her head slightly to the beat.

He hummed in agreement and shifted his feet. “Would you like to dance?”

Her smile grew so wide that her teeth were exposed and she straightened and faced him. “I would like that very much, my Lord.” She emphasized the word and he laughed, taking her hand and leading her into the hallway.

They did a waltz, matching the tone of the song and she rested her head on his shoulder, letting him lead the dance. She hummed the song and closed her eyes, moving her feet with his and turning and dipping when his movements instructed her to.

A strange feeling crept up on her and she opened her eyes and saw Azriel standing at the end of the hallway, leaning against a pillar, disappointment clouding his eyes.

She stumbled and Tarquin caught her, gripping her waist with a firm hold. “Are you alright?” He lifted her chin so they could look at each other, but she kept her eyes on where Azriel was standing, but he had vanished.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I thought I saw something.” She stumbled over her words and looked up at him.

“It happens in dark hallways like these,” he laughed and resumed their dance opting for a slower paced one where they just rocked together and turned around the room.

“Yes,” she said against his shoulder, “I suppose it does.”

Azriel watched Celestia and Tarquin dance and his heart stung with the pain. His shadows didn't even bother to try and comfort him; they knew he had lost and were watching his defeat in real time.

While they waltzed together, Tarquin looked at her with the same admiration that Celestia had looked at Azriel and he clutched his biceps to keep from crying.

She looked at Tarquin and laughed as he twirled her around the hallway and when he dipped her downwards and when he extended his head so she could spin. She kept laughing, a sound that was filled with so much joy and happiness that it rang in his ears. The bond wailed in response.

She had closed her eyes as he spun her around and dipped her so her hair touched the floor and bounced around her neck when he brought her up. She had a lazy smile spread across her lips and he could hear her hum along to the song flowing through the open windows.

As he turned her she opened her eyes and they locked eyes and she tripped over her feet. He straightened and leaned forward, wanting to call out to her, but he didn't, instead just looking at her. He was disappointed in himself for leaving her and letting her find someone else. But she seemed happy, maybe even happier than he could ever make her.

Before Tarquin could see him, he concealed himself in his shadows and left the hallway, going into his room and shutting his door. The House’s magic had fixed his room for him after he had destroyed it and while it was convenient, he wished it hadn't.

He sat on his bed with his head in his hands, the chain she hadn't gotten him years ago dangling from his neck. He ran his fingers along it and closed his eyes, thinking of her and the way she had thrown her head back and laughed and how her eyes twinkled like the spirits passing by outside.

He cried himself to sleep that night.

“And why do I have to go?” Celestia had her arms crossed and her hip popped out. She was annoyed.

“Because you're my third and my Lieutenant General.” Rhysand shot back. He was getting tired of her questioning him.

“One, that rank is lower than General, which he is,” she pointed to Cassian who shrank in his seat, “and they won't take me seriously because of my rank and because I'm female.” She raised an eyebrow at her brother in a challenge.

Rhysand groaned and leaned his head back. “Why can't you ever do anything I ask?”

“Because I don't want to.” She said matter of factly.

“I don’t really give a fuck,” Rhysand chuckled dryly and threw his hands in the air. “You're a part of my court, you're my second, and you're my Lieutenant General. I am not asking as your brother, I am telling you as your High Lord.” Rhysand narrowed his eyes at her and squared his shoulders. Sister be damned, she was going to do what he asked.

“Eat shit Rhys,” she snapped. She whirled around and as she walked away she gave everyone a vulgar gesture and slammed the door behind her.

“That went just as I expected.” Cassian clapped his hands and laughed.

Rhysand just shook his head and rubbed his jaw. “She's always so fucking difficult. I just don't get it; always arguing and always contradicting me.” He sucked at his teeth and shook his head again.

“Azriel, are you good to go?” Rhysand directed his attention to him and he just nodded.

“I’m fine.” He said blankly. He had felt small during her argument with Rhysand. She didn't want to go with him which meant she didn't want to be with him which meant he would lose her forever. He didn't realize he had clenched his fists.

“It's best if you two go,” Rhysand assured him. “I need Cassian to act as emissary and the females at the camp will be more comfortable if she's there and their fathers, well,” Rhysand cringed, not wanting to say it, “they're more scared of you than Cassian, so you'll be able to sway them more.”

Azriel just shrugged at the fact. It was no secret that everyone at Windhaven and across Prythian was scared of him, his shadows, and his power. He was one of the strongest Illyrians and his never before seen powers were frightening to those who didn't understand it. His personality and demeanor didn't help either.

“I understand.” Azriel got up from his seat. “It'll be handled.”

It wasn't that Celestia didn't want to be with Azriel, in fact she longed to be around him. She longed to feel his power thrum through the room and the way his eyes, calculating and intense, swept the space. But she felt guilty.

He had seen her with Tarquin and she felt ashamed. She wasn't sure why because they weren't together and she owed him nothing, but the way the tether in her stomach grew red hot with rage the longer she waltzed with the High Lord the more she knew she was committing a mistake, a sin even. Her gut told her it was wrong and that she was dancing with the wrong male and that the right male was just down the hall, glaring at her.

When she swayed with Tarquin she could feel Azriel. She couldn't explain it or comprehend how but she felt his anger and sadness and bitterness and she nearly yelped with the way it stung her body, raising the hairs on her arm.

She brushed it aside though. Nerves, she told herself. She was just anxious about being with another male but it was a good thing. She was moving on and she was happy.

When they arrived at Windhaven, it was dark, so instead of harassing the Illyrians about their misogynistic ways, they landed at Rhysand mother's house and without a word to each other, went to their rooms.

She didn't sleep that night; she tossed and turned and huffed in annoyance. All she could think about was Azriel and what he was doing now and how he was feeling. Did he enjoy the flight? Was he angry with her for dancing with Tarquin? Did he long for her like she longed for him? Oh how she wished she could go to him and sneak into his bed.

She was unaware that Azriel was also awake, battling the same thoughts.

The next morning they walked into the kitchen at the same time, avoiding each other. Silently they poured their coffee and ate the porridge that was in the cabinet and when the bowls had been put in the sink they exited the house, Azriel holding the door open for her, taking a deep breath as she walked past.

“Oh fuck off,” she exclaimed. “This,” she pointed to the flier in her hand, “says your daughter has to attend training. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, from 8 in the morning to 2 in the afternoon. This is not up for debate.” She tossed the flier to him and crossed her arms. She was not going to leave until he agreed.

“Go to hell bitch.” Marx sneered. “I don't give a fuck what that bastard wannabe High Lord says. My daughter stays home and does what I say. Now get the fuck off my porch.” He tried to slam the door in her face but she stuck her foot out, keeping it open. She could hear Azriel growl behind her.

“Want to take this outside? Duel it out?” Celestia challenged him, a smirk appearing on her face.

“What? Have your deformed dog fight your battles for you?” Marx laughed and Celestia's face flushed with anger.

“Watch yourself Marx. You and I both know I am very much capable of fighting my battles. Didn’t I kill your son?” Her smirk grew wider and she cocked her head to the side.

He snarled and grabbed her by the throat, pushing her onto the street.

Let me handle this, she pushed the thought into Azriel’s mind and he took a step back.

Marx came for her and she punched him in the chest, winding him and he fell to the ground, clutching his chest.

Celestia crouched down and held him by his hair. “Anya will be at training tomorrow, on time, and if she isn't I will be here to put an arrow in your eye just like I did with your son. Do you fucking understand me?” She growled in his ear and he frantically nodded.

“Good,” she bounced up and smiled down at him. “Always a pleasure speaking to you Marx. Say hi to the family for me will you?” And what that she turned, with Azriel in tow, to the next house until everyone had been informed, or threatened, that training for their daughters would be starting tomorrow.

A few males needed further convincing, but it helped when Celestia had them pinned down and Azriel looming behind her, his shadows ready to attack.

They stopped by Emorie’s shop and bought out her leathers, armor, and coats for the females tomorrow. They both knew that none of them had been given the proper gear to fight; they all would probably show up in their dresses and house shoes.

“Are you hungry?” Azriel asked as they walked back to the house.

They hadn't spoken all day, but surprising to Celestia it hadn't been awkward. The silence was comfortable and amicable; they both had a mission today and needed to work as a team and show off as a unit.

“Yeah I am. Are you?” She looked up at him and admired the way he walked and the sway of his shoulders and arms, exuding confidence.

“Yes.”

She hummed and they headed to the only tavern in the village.

They were not well received when they walked in but the owner knew they would pay and tip well so he put them in the back away from everyone. They ate in silence, the only conversation being to pass the bread and butter.

They walked home in silence too, sticking close to each other as the village Illyrians threw threats and insults at them. At one point Azriel placed his hand on the small of her back, clutching her shirt. He didn't let go until they were inside the house.

Like the night before, they padded around the house silently, giving each other enough room. She sat on the couch, planning the lesson for tomorrow and she gave it to Azriel when she was done, silently asking for approval. He nodded and handed it back to her and their fingers brushed when she took it back. They both sucked in a breath at the same time.

While he put the fire out she headed to the stairs and as she walked up she spoke to him.

“Goodnight Azriel.”

The bond sang in response.

Training began in the morning and Azriel and Celestia met each other in the kitchen two hours prior. They nodded to each other and ate their breakfast in silence and made their way to the training ring.

The one they were using had been unused for centuries. It was too small to hold the amount of males that now inhabited the camp and had no real space to do anything. But the pair made it work by maximizing the space they had; outside the ring they placed the weapons and water station and inside they mapped out areas for stretching, running, and combat.

She stood back, surveying the ring and its sections and stations. Nodding, she looked at him who was doing the same.

“I think we're ready.” Celestia spoke and with that they headed outside the ring to meet the females.

The females were slow to trickle in but by half past eight they had most of the females on the roster.

“Want to get the rest of them and I get the ones here started?” Celestia asked, handing the roster to him.

He looked down to take it from her hands and met her gaze. It was hard and determined and there was a slight glimmer of hope. She had been the first female to even dare to try to enter the male dominated Illyrian culture and made it. She had wanted this to come to fruition for centuries, but it was hard to combat the stubbornness that infected the whole camp.

He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat and took his leave.

She started with introductions from herself and the females in the group. They were timid to start but Celestia reassured them that they were not doing anything wrong and it was a good thing they were here.

“Even if you all don't go to battle or participate in the Blood Rite then at least you have the knowledge of how to defend yourself. Think of this as a free learning experience.” Her smile was infectious and the rest of the females returned her grin and the training began.

It was harder to train them than Celestia had thought. Many of their wings were clipped resulting in having difficulties balancing themselves. She was glad when Azriel returned half an hour later with the rest of the females, but she couldn't help but notice the dirt on his face and his busted lip; some of the fathers had given him a hard time.

Together they helped the females learn to balance themselves by using whatever wing strength they had. They both had learned to fly late, so they were not only able to sympathize with their struggles but knew exactly how to help them. The females learned quickly and she was glad to see they weren't afraid to ask questions or make mistakes. They all got back up and tried again until they got it right.

By the time the afternoon rolled around the group had been able to grasp the concept of balancing using their feet and core, relying minimally on their wings. Celestia cringed every time one of them tried to flex their wings, their instincts screaming at them to use them properly.

The group disbanded with waves and promises to come back tomorrow. For the first time Celestia felt hopeful about the future of Illyria.

Celestia and Azriel cleaned up the ring in silence, handing each other weapons and cups and mats.

“I think that went well,” Azriel announced when they were walking towards the tavern.

Celestia nodded and hummed. “Me too. They seemed to enjoy it.”

Azriel smiled and looked at her. “You seemed to, too.”

She laughed. “I did. I've wanted this for so long. I know they can do it and even if they don't want to take it further then at least they're doing something other than sitting at home being a servant.”

Azriel grunted and opened the door for her. Before she stepped in she turned and grazed his forearm with her fingers.

“Can we take it back to the house? I don't want to eat here tonight.”

Azriel nodded. “Of course.” He then placed his hand on her back and ushered her in.

They ate around the hearth that night, their plates and glasses clinking every now and then. When they were done eating, they leaned back in their respective seats, Azriel in the armchair and Celestia on the couch.

“They can hate us all they want, but I’ll never stop going for their stew.” Celestia announced, patting her belly. Her eyes were quiet and she sat heavily in her seat. She was exhausted.

Azriel laughed, his stomach also full and he was also exhausted. “Couldn't agree more.”

She smirked and let out a deep sigh. “I'm fucking tired.”

“Me too.”

She groaned as she stretched her lips and sat up, collecting their plates.

“I’ll grab that. You go to bed,” he waved her hand away and she placed the plates back down.

She nodded and rubbed her eyes and waved as she passed him.

“I’m glad I’m doing this with you,” she sleepily mumbled as she walked up the stairs.

She didn't think he heard her, but he did, and the bond sang in response again.

{HEADER}

Training three times a week for 6 hours paid off because two months later the group had moved to handling swords, daggers, and shields. The first day of weapons training Rhysand and Cassian had come to see and Celestia jumped out of bed and got ready, tumbling downstairs to find Rhysand and Cassian already there drinking coffee.

“Good morning,” Celestia sang to them, moving to pour herself a cup.

“I don't think I've ever seen you smile before noon,” Rhysand chuckled, giving her a peck on the cheek.

“Fuck off,” she laughed.

Celestia told them of her and Azriel’s successes in the ring. The group had progressed slowly at first but once they got the posture and balancing down, they were quick to pick up the breathing techniques and build their endurance.

“The only issue really is their wings. It's hard to not use them.” She said aloud and the two males hummed.

Azriel emerged from his bedroom in his fighting leathers and greeted everyone with a grunt.

“Bad night?” Cassian laughed.

“Didn't sleep.”

Cassian smirked and Azriel gave him a vulgar gesture.

Azriel had dreamt of Celestia that night. She had looked so happy when she made the decision to move on from the introductory lessons. They had shared few words in the two months they had spent at Windhaven, but last night she had gushed about how proud of everyone she was and how excited she was that they were learning so much and that they were excited to even be learning it. She didn’t even let the threats from the Camp Lords bother her. She was making a difference and that was all that mattered to her.

In his dreams she was looking at him with the same brightness she had the previous night, telling him about his day and what she had seen and things that reminded her of him. He listened to it all, his chest warm and fuzzy and the bond brighter than ever. In his dreams she let him hold her and kiss her and he could feel her giggles vibrate his chest and when he woke up he could still feel it. Azriel sought after sleep, trying to dream of her again. He needed to feel her want for him and her acceptance of him. He missed it so much; he missed her so much.

But the dream never returned, so he laid in bed, staring into the darkness. His shadows tried to soothe him, reminding him that the bond existed and that she would never be too far, but he shooed them away. Despite being under the same roof and one floor below her, he felt like she was unreachable, in a bubble of her own.

At breakfast they didn’t talk, just exchanging a glance that didn’t go unnoticed.

As she walked ahead of him, the three brothers stayed behind and chastised Azriel.

“You haven’t talked to her yet?” Cassian asked.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t think it’s right to make her feel obligated to be with me because of the bond.”

“But you feel it right?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“I don’t feel anything back.”

Cassian groaned. He didn’t believe that Celestia didn’t feel the same or that she hadn’t noticed the bond. She was smart, but also oblivious so he really couldn’t put it past her to not notice it.

“I think you’re right in letting her be.” Rhysand spoke up. “Let her come to you and make her decision.”

The conversation ended there.

Rhysand and Cassian greeted the group when they all arrived and took their leave to watch them. Celestia pushed them to ask for permission because she had promised them privacy during their training. Rhysand obliged and was glad that the females agreed. He noted how they all looked at each other and gauged their peers’ body language and almost in unison they turned to look at him and said yes.

Rhysand and Cassian were impressed with the females. They held their own and never fumbled and never once looked for approval; they knew they were doing good.

Once the warm ups had been completed, the weapons were handed out and the instructions began. Azriel and Celestia, working as a silent, but effective team, showed them how to hold the swords and use their arms to keep it steady. Azriel demonstrated and Celestia moved around him, pointing out the way he held his own sword and the muscles needed to grip it properly. She pointed out his posture and the position of his feet and even kicked at his legs to show that he wasn’t going to fall despite the attacks.

Cassian snickered when she stumbled on her words as she ran her hands across his shoulders.

The training ended and while the group had not yet gotten the basics down, they left promising to try harder when they met again and some even had swords at home that they promised to use to practice. Celestia all gave them a thumbs up and bid them farewell and turned towards Cassian and Rhysand.

“So,” she grinned, “what did you think?”

Rhysand laughed and hugged her and clapped Azriel on the shoulder. “I knew you two could do it.”

They ate dinner at the tavern, sharing drinks and laughs.

Azriel was enjoying his time. He hadn’t seen Celestia talk or laugh this much in months and he savored every moment. She was relaxed with her hair swept up in a half bun and she played with a curl that had gotten loose. He wanted to reach behind Rhysand and rub her back to encourage her to talk more and laugh more, but he kept his hands folded in front of him and listened to the conversation.

It was late by the time they got back to the house and Celestia and Cassian had played their drinking game again and for once Cassian won. He had slammed his cup down breaking it and whooped so loud the table shook underneath him. Celestia was holding her hand to her mouth fighting back tears as bile formed in her throat. Rhysand laughed and rubbed her hand and she waved him off, fanning her face.

“I need to get the fuck out of here.” She slurred and the group laughed. While Rhysand paid the tab, Cassian helped her to the door and she moaned at the cool breeze that blew around her face and neck.

Azriel’s body twitched in response. He suppressed the feeling but he couldn’t help but imagine her head tilted back and her mouth parted below him as he buried himself inside of her.

They made their way back to the house, Rhysand helping Celestia walk. She kept wandering away, trying to look at shop displays or pet any animal that she passed by. It took everything the males had to keep her focused on getting home.

She bursted through the door and groaned, kicking her shoes off, gripping the wall for support.

“Thank the gods we don’t have training tomorrow.” She slurred and pressed her forehead against the wall. “I’m so tired.”

Rhysand chuckled and led her towards the couch and she plopped down, tucking her feet underneath her. She laid her head on the arm rest and sighed and put her arms over her eyes.

The males took their shoes off and found spots in the living room to rest. Cassian sat next to her and she put her legs on his lap, groaning with exertion and Azriel and Rhysand took the armchairs adjacent to the hearth.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the crackle of the fire and basking in its warmth. Celestia had fallen asleep moments after hitting the couch, so the rest of the group sat in a comfortable silence. Cassian was itching to ask Azriel about the bond and Celestia, but he feared she would wake and the jig would be up so he kept his mouth shut opting to rub Celestia’s legs.

After an hour Cassian and Rhysand announced they were going to bed and they went to their rooms, leaving Celestia sprawled on the couch and Azriel by the fire. He stared at the fire and thought about how it had burned him or rather, how his step brothers had burned him. It had taken him a long time to be able to comfortably be near a fire and not fear it would reach out and wrap around him, setting his entire body on fire. But it didn’t. Instead the sleeping female in front of him did and he welcomed the feeling.

He watched as she slept, her chest rising and falling and her mouth open. She had drool building up on her shoulder and every now and then she would emit a snore that would put Cassian to shame. But nonetheless she looked and sounded beautiful to Azriel. Nothing she did ever looked wrong or out of place and his skin felt tight with how much he felt for her; sometimes he thought he would implode with how much he loved her.

Another hour passed and his eyes were becoming heavy. He didn’t want to leave her on the couch, so he got up and went to her, kneeling and started to gently shake her away.

She whined and swatted at him, turning away from him, but he persisted, now leaning over her.

“Celestia,” he whispered in her ear. “Celestia, wake up.”

She whined again and pouted, opening her eyes. “What?” She groggily said.

“Let me take you to bed.”

She smiled lazily.. “Yeah, you can take me to bed.” She turned and and opened her legs, her smile becoming a smirk.

He grew hot and his cock twitched.

“C’mon.”

He helped her get up and she groaned in protest. She pushed her chest out and cracked her back, letting out a deep sigh.

He had to let out a breath and avert his gaze, rolling his neck all the same.

She swung her feet on to the floor and stood up and immediately fell over, but he caught her and chuckled. Placing one hand on her waist and the other on her back, he led her to the stairs.

The stairs loomed in front of her and she shook her head. “I can’t. I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

“That couch is awful.” He reminded her.

“Yes, I do suppose that is true.”

With a huff she grabbed the railing and hauled herself up each step. He held onto her the entire time. He had a thought of just picking her up and carrying her to bed, but he knew if he did he would never let her go so instead he just helped her, making sure she didn’t trip on a step or her own feet.

She grumbled in protest the whole time trying to convince him and herself that she would’ve been fine on the couch and that “it’s really not that bad.” He just laughed.

When they got to her room, she rushed to the bed and fell on it face first and sighed into the comforter. She began to take her pants off and then her shirt and Azriel turned around, admiring the intricate woodwork on her dresser.

When he heard her settle under the covers he turned around and turned the light off.

“Goodnight Celestia.”

As he closed the door behind him she called out to him. “I wish you would’ve stayed Azriel.”

His chest felt tight and the strings on his heart that connected it to his body began to shake and come loose. He said nothing and turned back around and he heard her speak again.

“Even if it was just for tonight, I’d wish you’d stay.” And then he heard her start to snore.

Azriel was stubborn and it was going to get him killed.

It was raining and she had wanted to cancel training because she feared the females would get sick and then they would miss more training and put them behind schedule. Azriel assured her it would be fine and they argued about it, but she conceded.

So here she was, watching 30 females shake in the rain trying to follow Azriel’s instructions on the proper way to swing and jab a sword. Celestia stood with her arms crossed watching with a scowl on her face. The rain was only getting worse and the wind was starting to pick up bringing a chill that shook her bones.

During the break, the group huddled under the makeshift tent that Celestia and Azriel had put up that morning.

Azriel didn’t follow them. He just set up for the next section of training.

“What’s his issue?” One of the females said through chattering teeth.

“He’s an idiot.” Celestia responded.

The group laughed in agreement.

She walked over to him and yelled over the wind. “We need to cancel until the weather gets better!”

He turned around and his beauty struck her like a physical blow. His hair was stuck to his face and his long sleeve shirt was almost like a second skin, emphasizing every muscle in his chest and arms. He was lifting a mat to move to the other side of the ring and she internally groaned at the way the muscles in his forearm flexed with the weight.

“I trained in conditions worse than this.” He declared.

“I really don’t care. It’s cold and everyone is going to get sick if we stay out here.”

He pondered the request, looking at the group of females shaking in the tent.

He let out a heavy sigh and dropped the mat. “Fine.”

The group disbanded and Celestia promised to visit them all and inform them when training would resume and bring an updated lesson plan.

“You should take a bath to warm up,” she told him when they got inside the house. She hung her jacket up and took her shoes off and wrapped her arms around herself.

“I’m fine.” He announced.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible. Don’t start crying to me when you get a cold.” She made her way to the stairs, her socks squelching with every step.

He just chuckled and went to his room and undressed. He used a towel to dry off and then threw on warm clothes and sat by the fire.

The next morning he woke up hot. He figured it was the combination of his sweater, sweatpants, and socks, but as he went to remove them he found that his entire body ached. He was sick.

He came out of his room to find Celestia already in the kitchen eating toast. She eyed him as he slowly made his way to her, grimacing with every step.

She smirked. “Not feeling well?”

He shook his head.

“I told you.” She walked towards him and to his surprise she touched his forehead and clicked her tongue.

“You have a fever,” she told him and she had a tone to her voice that screamed triumph.

He grunted and went to the couch and laid down. He was in so much pain he couldn’t even think straight.

The rain lasted a week and Azriel was sick for two weeks. When the rain let up Celestia went back for training, checking on him before, during the break, and after training. Every day she would make or pick up dinner and leave it on his nightstand for him to eat when he woke up. She also checked his temperature, placing her hand on his forehead and cheek as softly as she could so as to not wake him. He slept all the time and she had only seen him up and about a handful of times.

There was a night where his aches had gotten particularly bad that he couldn’t move and lift his arms. She had just entered his room with the stew from the tavern to find him leaning against the headboard with his eyes closed.

“You okay?” She asked quietly. She placed the bowl on the nightstand and sat on the bed reaching out to touch his face.

His eyes fluttered open and he weakly nodded, grimacing at the pain.

She smirked. “You’re such a baby.”

He wanted to roll his eyes.

“I got stew for you if you’re hungry,” she stated, gesturing towards the bowl to his left.

He hummed and looked at it. “Everything hurts,” he muttered. He sounded like a child.

“I know. You have a cold.”

He groaned and closed his eyes again.

He felt her move closer until he could feel her body heat. Her scent was so infectious he thought he would catch it too.

He heard the spoon clink against the bowl and when he opened his eyes, she was holding the bowl and blowing on the stew on the spoon to cool it down.

“What are you doing?” He asked, eyeing her.

“You haven’t eaten today; you need to eat.”

She finished blowing on the spoon and offered it to him. He managed a smile and opened his mouth slightly and she dipped the spoon in. But before he could take the food in his mouth he felt a jolt of electricity run through his body and he jerked backwards and hit his head on the headboard. He saw Celestia jump back, clutching the bowl with her hands and staring at him with wide, shocked eyes.

Her ears were ringing and her vision was blurry. The only thing she could see clearly was Azriel. When the spoon connected with his lips, she had felt an intense shock throughout her entire body and when she looked at Azriel it was almost like she was looking at him in a light. He didn’t look different, but yet he appeared different. She didn’t feel the pressure of the bowl in her hands or the warmth it radiated; the only thing she could feel, see, hear was him and the tether in her gut. It had grown twice its previous size and instead of reaching and sneaking to him, it was bold in its movement and it now reached out to him in confidence wrapping around his soul.

They were linked.

She kept looking at him and he kept looking at her, their expressions mirrored each other’s: pure shock.

Her chest began to glow and hum and her skin felt tight as she looked at him. Her breathing was becoming quicker and she was starting to become overwhelmed with all the sensations coursing through her body.

Despite it all, her mind was clear as one word kept repeating in her head: mate, mate, mate.

Not only had the mating bond snapped, but she had accepted it.

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