A Court of Golden Shadow || Elain x Azriel

Chapter 2 - Mother Save Me

Gathered around the table at the riverside mansion for their weekly evening dinner, Azriel leaned back in his chair next to Nesta, tuning in and out of the conversation flowing between the members of the Inner Circle: mates sharing glances, inside jokes, and no doubt a fair amount of sexual tension. He rolled his eyes as he swirled his wine. He wasn't in the mood for banter. Tonight, like most nights, he found his mind drifting elsewhere.

However, there was one exception to his disinterest.

Azriel's mind tended to resurface whenever one melodious voice spoke.

As it had, just now.

"Morrigan, what a lovely necklace."

Azriel couldn't help it. He always nursed a latent curiosity toward the things Elain was drawn to. Something made her laugh? What was it? What did she look at when she walked the streets, window shopping with Nesta? Which foods did she choose to enjoy when they all sat down for dinner? What did she look at in the garden? Who was she most interested in? It was as if whenever Elain was intrigued or interested in anything, Azriel wished to be standing in the crossfire.

As if he could catch her interest as well.

Drawing his gaze away from his dark wine glass, Azriel lazily glanced over at Mor's neck. His eyes drifted back towards his plate indifferently before daring back to her neck, a chill tearing up his spinal column causing his wings to flare slightly. Alarm flooded his veins followed by an insidious dose of dread, the blood seemingly draining from his entire face.

Back and forth from his plate to Mor's neck until finally, his eyes shot towards Elain, who was still looking at Mor.

Because dangling around that pretty little neck of hers was that gods-damned necklace from Solstice.

He wanted to die.

Right then and there. Where was Bryaxis? Blue Anis? Mother save him. Cauldron boil him. It was the cursed necklace, back from the dead and ready to haunt his every dream and every nightmare.

Mor smiled shyly at Elain, offering a pleasantry in return for the compliment before Nesta playfully nudged into her side uttering "from a special winged warrior right? To keep as a memory—"

Mor elbowed right back into Nesta, shutting her up before looking back at Elain with a shy smile, and then— gods save him— her gaze flitted toward Azriel and back to her clasped hands.

Elain smiled again at Mor, blanching slightly, and then ever so slowly and ever so carefully dragged her eyes over to Azriel, her penetrating gaze a mixture of questions, distaste, shock, confusion, and betrayal.

Azriel now realized that he would rather die a hundred deaths than sit under that gaze from Elain Acheron.

She bored into him for a breath of a moment before quietly excusing herself from the table, thanking Feyre for hosting and sweeping out of the room. The conversation briefly paused to offer Elain goodnights before rising up again, laughter filling the atmosphere.

Azriel sat, stunned into immobility, shadows skittering about his ankles, eyes darting from side to side, questioning, wondering, panicking.

What just happened? Where did she go? Was she angry? Did she think he gave it to Mor? And what was that cauldron-damned necklace doing on Mor's neck in the first place!?!? He cursed himself yet again for ever dropping it off with Clotho. He should have just thrown the fucking thing into the Sidra.

Leaning over to Nesta, Azriel whispered "winged warrior?"

Nesta had seemed to pick up on his infatuation for Elain sometime around Solstice and although she never pressed him on the issue, he knew that she would not assume he was asking about Mor's necklace due to lingering feelings for the blonde.