A Court of Golden Shadow || Elain x Azriel

Chapter 7 - He Fucking Missed Her

The males winnowed in directly to the party, outfitted in leather pants, siphons glowing, and deeply cut sleeveless black shirts of an almost sheer gauze material, more suitable for the hot air. Cassian had clapped Azriel on the back before charging toward the music, intent on finding his mate and no doubt ravishing her in some seedy alcove behind a curtain. Rhys was sauntering toward the center of the party, hands tucked in his pockets, glittering night floating behind him, an air of laid-back confidence masking his face, which Az knew was just an act, as his brother was excitedly anticipating seeing Feyre in all her glory.

And Azriel? Like his brothers, he was seeking an Archeron sister.

The moment his feet touched the cool marble, he had released his shadows into every corner of Helion's palace, surveying, searching, and assessing the space. They found Elain in a matter of seconds, reporting that she was currently laughing with her sisters and heading toward the party. Azriel smiled, happy for the mere fact that she was happy, and headed toward the drum beats as well, flanking Rhysand, his siphons blazing.

Helion had truly outdone himself for Elain's party.

He was hosting it in the back courtyard of his palace which opened out into a grand view of the sun setting over the city of Patras. Marble columns gleamed, reflecting warm light from the torches and reflecting pools filling the space.

The enormous silk curtains hanging from the arched columns blew in the breeze as fae weaved in and out of them, sauntering with wine glasses, swaying to the music, sometimes pulling a lover out of sight of prying eyes. Lithe Day Court servants wended through the guests, holding ornate platters full of exotic foods, fruit and cheese readily available. Wine was flowing, the music was thunderous, and the sun had begun to set, lighting the marble in an incredible shade of rose gold.

Sprinkled throughout the party were dance floors, risers with lounging areas, and wide velvet-covered conversation pits. Helion sat in the central area on a scattering of ivory and gold pillows, right m in the middle of the fray, lounging beside three fae, all in various stages of undress.

Azriel smirked as he heard Rhys sigh, muttering "she really had to insist on Day..." before transforming his tone into the charmer he always was.

"Helion!" Rhys called out, arms open wide, eyes smiling, night glittering behind him.

"The High Lord of the Night Court, in my palace at last. How long has it been Rhysand? One hundred and seventy three years? Not that I'm counting." Helion bellowed a laugh, rising from his station and embracing Azriel's brother, clapping him on the back and nodding to the Shadowsinger.

"And your timing is impeccable, as always. Your Lady and the Lady of Honor are arriving as we speak." Helion gestured toward a larger archway decorated with leaning palms.

And there she was.

As if on cue, the drumbeats built toward a crescendo and the sun began to set, casting a warm light over the three females gracefully making their entrance, all eyes fixated on their beauty.

Flanked by Nesta and Feyre, Elain stepped out from the billowing curtains looking like a gods-damned goddess of Prythian.

He felt his wings flare instinctively, fighting every bone in his body screaming at him to go to her. His shadows hissed at his side, and he physically had to bear down into his feet, planting himself firmly to the marble, fighting the pull toward her.

"The three Made-Fae beauties of Prythian." Helion said quietly, leaning over to Rhysand. "And our little Lord of the Dark has been keeping them all to himself up there in his dreary court." He pouted, jabbing Rhys with his elbow, unable to tear his eyes from the females.