The Shadows Have No Face || 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

Don't Mess With The Illyrian

As if I had only blinked, I opened my eyes to find myself standing at the entrance of Windhaven—or what I thought was the entrance. It was nothing like I expected. Windhaven was a very well-known Illyrian war-camp, so I thought it would be more... put together. This looked terrible.

Simple tents surrounded scattered firepits. They all looked handmade with the stretched skin of animals. Against the tree-line stood a few disheveled stone buildings, whose chimneys spat large amounts of black smoke into the air.

Everywhere. They were everywhere. Illyrians. Male and female, which surprised me. I had to remind myself of the work that Cassian and Rhys had done to allow females to train.

I don't think I had ever seen so many pairs of wings in my life. Didn't think I could even imagine such a thing. It was incredible and terrifying all at once. There was this air of serious focus on the single goal of fighting. Of course, it was Illyrians. That was to be expected.

"I hate this place," Mor said under her breath.

"Don't we all," Amren muttered back.

A male approached us, walking with an air of authority that made my face contort in slight disgust. I knew already that I hated him, and may want to punch him if he ever talked to me.

"Are you finally coming to retrieve your dog?" Lord Devlon spat.

Cassian stepped up and said, "what are you talking about?"

"Your Spymaster showed up here a few nights ago. I thought he was the special guest you kept telling me to prepare for," Devlon gave Rhys a harsh stare, completely avoiding the general. "Instead, he's been beating up my best warriors and scaring everyone with those... those shadow things."

I blinked away surprise. He was here. Nope, nope, time to go home. I spun around on a heel and tried sneaking away. Amren grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me back to the group. Cauldron boil me.

Rhysand processed the information quickly and smiled. "It's good to know he's challenging your men. Finally getting them off their asses." He said the last part loud enough for those listening around to hear. Only a few heads snapped up.

"I assume everything is ready for us?" The High Lord asked.

Devlon nodded and stepped out of our way. He watched each member of our group step through the camp, and when I passed, grabbed me by the arm and said, "I've never seen this one before. Who is she?" He looked down at my leathers with furrowed brows.

I twisted my arm from his grip and said, "no one to mess with, if you want to keep your favorite parts."

"She means that," Mor said, a grin decorating her face.

Devlon glared at me like he knew something I didn't, which frightened me more than I wanted it to. If he did know what I truly was, then I was in trouble. But I knew I was safe with my friends, and Devlon knew that.

We stepped into the house that had been prepared for us—if that was even the right word. All they did was leave the lights on and get their own shit out of there.

Rhysand sat at the small table and said to me, "this was once my mothers, now used to house Devlon's best warriors—and us."

"If you can even call them warriors," Cassian said, leaning back in his chair. "You know he gives them special treatment."

Amren looked out the window and said without turning back, "I hope you're ready to talk to Azriel."

"Why?" Rhys asked, head snapping to her.

"Because he's here."

Cassian jumped from his seat right as the door opened. I found myself leaning against the cabinets and gripping the counter hard enough for my hands to go cold. Azriel walked into the house and stopped short when he looked up and saw that there were other people here. His eyes jumped first from Rhysand to Cassian, and then immediately to me, where they stayed a moment longer.