A warm draft of air enveloped her when Naoise opened the door to the cabin. Inside, it was already remarkably clean, free of blood save for a residual scent and stray spots. She wandered further in and beelined for her favorite armchair, settling down with a sigh across from Cassian, who lounged back on the small sofa.
Azriel closed the door behind them both and she tried not to think of his gaze on her still, burning more than the fire roaring beside her.
It'd hardly strayed after their visit to the western establishment, even through the other two on the other sectors and the arrangements made for those who passed the test. Along with the three prisoners they'd taken; one from each settlement. Unwilling possible informants who knew not of each other and could corroborate any possible information disclosed.
Azriel settled against the wall beside her, arms crossed and feigning interest in the carvings covering almost every inch of the room. But Naoise could still feel his attention burning through her skin to the damaged, sheltered soul beneath. The one that yearned for the bravery to step out and claim what it wanted so desperately.
Who it wanted. Who she wanted.
Hazel eyes somehow darker in the glow of firelight, showing a side not often seen, focused on Naoise. She lamented how the flames seemed to do that to them all, showcase a side of their being opposite of who most thought they were. And yet still were.
Cassian huffed and asked lazily, "How'd it go?"
Naoise adjusted herself, nestling into the design of the chair particular to wings. "Seven to start."
His unkempt eyebrows shot up. "That many?"
She nodded tiredly. "Three, one, and three. The others... I couldn't quite kill them but—"
Azriel suddenly huffed and interrupted her, addressing Cassian when he said, "Shells. They are shells, engulfed by their own emptiness."
"Well, shit."
Naoise shrugged, even that action now wearing down on her. It was a blessed kind of tired, a blessed kind of sore. But it was not all bliss, for beneath the surface lingered the pain that always would. Her powers, there to tear her from the earth and so very angry to be used and chained as they were.
She dreaded the night most of all.
"He exaggerates."
"No," cut in Azriel once again. Naoise swallowed when she dared direct her gaze his way to catch him raise an eyebrow at her, gaze heavy. "I don't."
"Yeah, that's not really something he's known for. Not much of an imagination, this one," Cassian laughed.
With those eyes still on her, Naoise doubted that. With the intensity raking down her spine through the bond strung tight, she could feel his imagination. She wondered if it matched hers. The tension in her wings. The breath caught in her chest. The thought of sharing breaths.
She hoped it did. At the same time, she really hoped it didn't.
Her heart was shattering but her resolve to keep any of that to imagination was crumbling even faster.
"I doubt that," she murmured absentmindedly, gravel stones rushing through a gentle current in her voice.
The intensity amped higher and his eyes practically glowed gold, shadows swirling in mad rivulets over his body. Then Naoise focused on not staring as he did, and instead on Cassian. She forced a sharp, wry grin past the thudding of her heart in her ears. She began mentally counting the stars she could see engraved into the wood on that side of the cabin. Anything to drag her mind from the tension in her wings and the scent of her mate washing over her.
YOU ARE READING
A Court of Fate and Failure | Azriel
Fanfiction"What do you know of shame?" "Oh, I know plenty." She fought in the first war, the one that took everything from her, just as it did everyone. 500 years later, she is still fighting in each and every moment. But the day she finds a cause to fight fo...
