𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 94

Chapter 94

Azriel was home. Arwen's gleeful squeal had ricocheted off the walls of the town house when she spied his winged form through the frosted glass door at the foyer. She was greeted with a smile, the capture of his arms and a small bouquet of fire lilies. He held her to his side as Rhysand and Feyre approached, ignoring that she peppered his cheek with a long kiss as he handed the High Lord and Lady his report. But he squeezed her waist—a sign that while he couldn't give her that affection back so freely in this space, he accepted hers. Welcomed it. Wanted it. His shadows tangled between her legs, wrapping around her and Azriel like a rope.

When her brother and his mate retreated, offering Azriel a plate of lunch that had been recently served, Azriel bowed his head to press a kiss to her hairline. "I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that type of welcome home."

"I have missed you is all," she said, hearing the accusatory tease in his tone at her perhaps overly delighted nature. "I don't like not hearing your voice around." More specifically, she didn't like when she could not speak to him at a moment's desire. It reminded her too much of a time when she could not speak to him at all. "Will you stay for lunch?"

The tease on his face brightened. "I'm not sure I have the option to say no." She hummed in agreement and dragged him into the dining room.

Feyre and Rhysand had retaken their seats, talking and picking at the remains of their food. Arwen took two new plates, having only come down from her room moments before she heard Azriel's arrival.

"Rhys was telling me you have a tradition of only buying one new dress a year," Feyre said after other mindless ramblings across the table. "For Starfall."

Arwen nodded and cut into her chicken. "Yes." She frowned. "I've been out twice this week with no luck. I think I may just choose something I already own this year. No point buying a dress I may not fit by summer."

To her surprise, Rhysand agreed. "I think that's a good idea." As far as she was aware, he, Mor and Amren used to have a betting scheme running on the colour and style of her new dress each year. Rhys smirked and pointed with his fork. "A new accessory hanging from your arm will be fine enough."

Azriel gave a small huff at the label. "Rhys," she chided. "Do not demean him to simple the likes of a purse." Arwen grinned at her mate. "He is more like a pair of diamond earrings." The table, bar Azriel, laughed. She leant to him. "That is a compliment, shadowsinger."

He gave her a small smile. "I know."

Eyeing him for a moment longer, Rhysand drew her attention back with talks of the River House. Azriel's hand found her thigh under the table, but a scant glimpse in his direction revealed that the bulk of his attention was on the conversation at hand and not in search of hers.

Somehow, they made plans to go to Rita's for the night. A celebration of something—she wasn't really sure what but assumed it was because they were in desperate need of some thoughtless drinking. Having spent the day flying, Azriel murmured his need for a nap if he was to spend the night out and Arwen offered her room.

"Any talks about accepting the mating bond?"

Arwen swatted Rhysand's face away from her ear. "Prying prick," she muttered and settled into the sunroom chaise with her drawing pad. "That is not any of your concern."

"It is," he contended, lounging down on the other end, stretching his leg out as the sun bathed him. "You must have seen how I was after Feyre and I sealed it. And I have good self control. Azriel..." Rhysand glanced over his shoulder towards the door. "Not so much."

She squinted at him. "He won't hurt me."

"Oh, I know," he laughed back, rapping his fingers on the arm of the chaise. "It's everything around you that I'm worried about. Notably..."