A Court of War and Sacrifice

9. Possession

    A full day passed before Azriel and Mor returned from Cretea. Mor winnowed them to the grounds of the river house. She entered the house alone and Azriel flew up to his balcony. He opened the doors quietly. Seren was soundly sleeping, shadows hovering around her. Tiny tendrils of flame wound around the shadows.

    I'm beginning to think she's just as much a Shadowsinger as I am, Azriel thought to himself. He closed the balcony doors and set his sword and Truth-Teller aside. Azriel winced at the aching pain lingering in his limbs. Drakon had worked out a few new moves and wanted to teach them to him. They'd worked on them for hours and Azriel spent most of his time on the ground, resulting in his very sore muscles. He grabbed his salve palette and entered the bathroom.

    Azriel ran a lukewarm bath and climbed in with a sigh of relief. He rested his head on the edge of the tub for several minutes, letting the water loosen his tense muscles. He grabbed the palette and began to massage some of the heathy goop into his shoulders and inner arms.

    The bathroom door creaked and he glanced over his tattooed shoulder. Seren rubbed her eyes, loose curls tumbling down her back. "I thought I heard you come in." She yawned and sat down behind him. "You were gone longer than I expected." Seren dabbed some of the salve onto her fingers and began massaging his back, spreading the salve in between his wings and shoulder blades.

    "I'm sorry. Mor and I met some old friends while we were gone and stayed with them longer than we meant to." He hated the halfness of his words, but Seren made no comment. Azriel gritted his teeth against a hiss of pain as she rubbed a particularly tense spot near his neck. She lightened her touch. "You can go back to sleep," Azriel said. Still, he let his head fall forward and relaxed beneath her hands.

    "I promised you a conversation."

    "We can have it later."

    "Let's have it now."

    "All right." Azriel bit his lip and lifted his head. "I thought about your question."

    "Why do you want a baby?"

    He nodded. "I thought about it and came up with some reasons."

    "Tell me."

    Azriel drew in a deep breath and began. "I've always thought about having kids. It's always been something I wanted. I wanted to be able to give them the childhood I didn't get to have. When I first found out we were mates, I was going to resign myself to knowing that we couldn't have a baby because you were High Fae and if the baby had wings, it could kill you. But when we spoke with Madja and learned about your Illyrian anatomy, I couldn't help but hope. I know that it's a bad time. I know you're still struggling. I understand if you're not ready."

    "Do you have anymore reasons?" Seren asked.

    "In a sense." Azriel sighed. "I'm afraid that if we don't have a baby soon, we may not ever get the chance to."

    "Because of Koschei?"

    "And Beron, Erebus, and the Mortal Queens," Azriel replied. "We...we've never faced so many people working together against us before. Rhys died during the war with Hybern. Rhys, the most powerful High Lord in history. This war could be so much worse. I always hoped I'd be a father before I died."

    Seren tilted his head back until he was looking at her. "That is why I'm afraid to have a baby now. If war comes and we're killed..." She closed her eyes as though fighting off the very thought. "And as I've said, I'm worried about my mental health. I've heard that if a mother is too anxious or stressed during a pregnancy, it can cause problems for the baby. As dumb as it sounds, I'm also afraid that I'd be a horrible mother."