A Bloody Crown

Chapter 26: Unwavering

We appeared in a forest, upon a high ledge, back to the nearly set sun. He murmured for me to begin the exercises we started with yesterday while he looked, then vanished again. I began lifting each wing individually, then in sync, stretching and pulling muscles I didn't know existed until yesterday.

Feyre had shifted my muscles around, she'd said last night, to make room for the new structure. Which is only part of why it was so excruciating. She'd allowed me to watch it through her eyes, growing the wing, creating her art.

The memory triggered remnants of the pain, but it was beautiful to watch. Her hands worked in tandem, building and creating a gift, one made from the stars. "Beauty is pain, dear," Marlia used to remind me. If she could see me now.

I'd been working for about a half hour when Azriel reappeared, droplets of sweat beading on his brow. 

"You okay?" I asked quietly, looking at his tired form. "After today, perhaps you shouldn't be-"

He shook his head. "Nothing I can't handle." He gestured to my exercises, a silent command to continue.

I bit my lip, but continued, the exhaustion already beginning to creep in. A gentle night breeze drifted in, one enough to cool me off from the exercises.

His voice was quiet, yet firm, "Extend your wings, hold steady in the breeze."

Slowly, I did as he asked, spreading them wide, bracing myself and attempting to lean into it. As the wind blew left, I leaned left. Closing my eyes gently, I continued, feeling every updraft and current. He talked quietly every so often, correcting my form or reminding me how different temperatures change how the air moves.

As I practiced, I thanked the Cauldron for my couple weeks of self-inflicted brutality on the training field. Perhaps, I was meant for this.

"Most of flying is using the world to your advantage," he'd said. "Being aware of your surroundings is half the battle."

The moon was high overhead when he asked me to stop, returning my wings to their resting state, though not on the ground.

I turned to face him, my face flushed and muscles tired. He nodded in approval, then began scanning the ground underneath us. "Would you like to-" he immediately stopped, yanking his head to the right.

My blood went cold, watching him listen to his shadows, try to determine if we were under threat. He grabbed my arm, pulled me to him tightly, then stepped back into the shadows under a large tree. I felt like a veil of thin fabric laid in front of me, just enough to where I could see, but not where we could be seen.

His hand covered my mouth, and his breathing stopped behind me.

A few Hybern soldiers, likely scouts searching for the camp, crept around the corner of the trees, likely searching for who had been talking. They walked silently, hellhounds trotting beside them, sniffing and snorting every few beats.

The soldiers kept moving, but one of the dogs stopped, sniffing a trail. It padded along the rock where I'd been standing, practicing flight. It growled softly, attracting the attention of one of the handlers.

A male walked by us, missing me by a mere breath. Azriel squeezed me tighter against him, leaning back into the shadows more. My fear was pumping hard, and I was afraid the hound could smell it.

I began attempting to relax, controlling my breath, releasing my muscles, counting the number of shadows that drifted by. Azriel still wasn't breathing behind me, his form solid and unwavering. I relaxed my eyes, closing them softly, leaning farther into him.

After a moment, I heard the handler click his tongue and walk past us again, thinking the dog had found a dead lead. The dog began trotting behind him, but then stopped directly at my feet, sniffing and pawing at the ground.