𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Arwen shared her morning tea with Azriel over the dining table. He had woken up on the better side of his bed that morning and even managed to break a few smiles at her lousy attempts of jests. She had woken in her bed that morning, but with no memory of returning to it, Arwen was left with only the impression that he had carried her up. And the thought of it—well, it was a warmth she tried to not acknowledge.

But she realised exactly what it meant. The lie she told herself, and Cassian. I don't care about him. Not anymore. A lie bigger than Cassian's inflated head. Because as she looked across the table, her mind reeling with something else to say that would lift his lips and offer her a hoarse chuckle, she knew she did care. A lot. And maybe it was just the mate bond or maybe it was something else, but Arwen didn't find herself caring to define the difference.

It was either the worst thing to befall her, or the best.

She still wore his dark sweater, pulled over her palms to form a barrier against the mug's heat. He had indeed asked for it back upon seeing her move down the stairs. Arwen promptly laughed, shook her head and darted around him. The narrowed eyes of warning informed her that he wouldn't give up on the challenge so quickly but had yet to mention it again.

Rhysand was the first of the other three to show his face in the late morning in black slacks and a plain cotton shirt. "Morning," he rasped, peering into the dining room. He lifted a brow at Arwen. "You want to go to that café for breakfast?"

She lifted her tea. "I'm not that hungry." Arwen hoped he had forgotten the offer. To talk, he had said.

He glanced down at her hand. "Lunch then," he decided.

She could read between what he said; that he didn't want to leave whatever he had said to her last night as the end of their conversation. But Arwen knew she had heard enough. It wasn't a conversation she wanted to sit through with anybody, let alone her brother. "I don't feel like going out today, Rhys."

Rhysand shifted on his feet, glancing at Azriel then back at her. 'I want to talk with you', he sent to her.

Azriel played oblivious, entertaining himself with his tea.

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm fine and you're fine," she answered aloud. "Unless you're not fine but then again, you have a habit of keeping that to yourself and wouldn't offer to take me to lunch just to tell me such. So everything is fine, Rhys. We don't need to talk."

Azriel's training in remaining stoic proved to serve him well, sitting there between them as if didn't hear a single word.

Rhysand sighed again, this time in frustration. Rather than entertain her frustrating responses, he only tightened his lips before saying, "I'll be in my office if you change your mind. Have the day off, Az. We all seem to need it." He stalked off and Arwen looked back down at her drink.

"Sounds like you need to talk," Azriel murmured, his eyes tracing her as though expecting a lash in response. Arwen was near thinking of giving it.

"He's being a hypocrite is all," she muttered back, certain that her brother could still hear the words. Rounding her shoulders as if to shed the past moments, she said, "Feel like training? I feel like training. Let's go training."

Azriel opened his mouth, the sound taking a few more seconds to follow. "Rooftop?"

"Where else?" Arwen placed down her mug, and he looked at it in surprise that she decided to move so fast. Following her lead, he placed down his own and rose to his feet. "I'll get dressed," she told him.

Darting upstairs, Arwen passed a languid Mor and slipped into her chamber. Stripping down and re-dressing into her leathers, she was back downstairs before Azriel had even cleaned up their small breakfast. Clutching his wrist, she took him with her outside.