Beyond Fire Night

Chapter 3

Gwyn was a bundle of nerves the remainder of the day. Their words flowed through her mind on an endless loop as she searched them for hidden meaning.

"Should I come to your room tonight?"

"I want to take you there right now."

Was Azriel really expecting her to come to his room tonight? Was that something she was ready for? Had he issued her an open-ended invitation? Had he really meant those things he said to her in the training ring?

Thankfully, the dusk service granted her a reprieve from the endless cycle of analysis and questions. Music had been her refuge; the day she found her voice again after the Hybern attack had been the day she truly began healing.

Gwyn searched the sanctuary for Nesta. Her best friend had a standing invitation to join the service, and though she did not often come, Gwyn had made it a habit to look for her anyway. She scanned the back row looking for the familiar silhouette with its braided coronet and was surprised to find raven hair instead. Azriel was seated in the corner, unobtrusively blending with the shadows. Clotho sat at his side, a signal to the other Priestesses that he was a welcome guest.

Azriel met her gaze and dipped his chin in a nod, silently offering her a greeting. Impulsively, she winked back at him. His eyes flared wide for a second and then he smiled, his normally unreadable expression clearly morphing into one of assessment. Gwyn liked that she could make him smile; not too many others could, but he always seemed to save one for her.

She tried not to look at him too much during the service. She tried not to make it obvious that she was thinking about him when her mind should be on the music. But he seemed determined to hold her attention, or rather, his shadows did. They danced along the ceiling of the cavernous room, delighting in the music. She knew he was a shadowsinger, and that it was more than just a made up title, but she hadn't really understood why he was called that until now. His shadows seemed more alive than she had ever seen them, and she could have sworn they were singing to her faintly; harmony to her melody.

The service ended, and Gwyn briefly lost track of Azriel as the priestesses filed from the room. Which should be near impossible given his height and the fact that he had a massive set of wings. Nesta had once tried to explain the significance of an Illyrian's wingspan to her but she and Emerie had dissolved into a fit of giggles and Gwyn had been left nearly as confused as she had been at the start of the conversation.

Gwyn tried to find Az again as the crowd thinned, but he was nowhere to be found. Not in his seat, not in the corner, not lurking behind one of the pillars. She frowned. Why would he come to the service and not stay to talk with her? She was just about to head back to the dorms when a shadow crossed her arm. His shadow. It wrapped itself around her wrist, a night-kissed caress on her skin, and then flitted away. Gwyn lifted her arm, as though she could keep the shadow there, but it flew off anyway. She watched it leave, her arm outstretched, straining for one last touch. And then her eyes landed on Azriel.

He stepped from the shadows and took Gwyn's hand, as though his shadows had coaxed her to him; which they probably had, those mischievous little whisps. Az bowed over her hand, as elegant as any courtier, and placed a kiss on her knuckles; just the barest whisper of his lips on her skin.

"Azriel, are you trying to seduce me?" Gwyn whispered, her voice slightly husky.

"I thought I had done that already." He pulled her back into the shadows with him and kissed her. All the initial awkwardness that had accompanied their first kiss was gone; it was as though it had never been there between them at all. The kiss was deep - deeper than it had any right to be - and Gwyn could feel it all the way down to her toes. She melted into him, looping her arms around his neck.