Daddy Azriel

Chapter 1: Azriel

Following my High Lord and Lady through the Illyrian Camp, towards the house that Rhys's mom took me in at, I began to glance around at my surroundings. About ten or so females were bravely training, while other males glared at them with distaste. Assholes is all I can think of to describe them as.
    Ahead of me, Rhys and Feyre must be having another one of their mind to mind mate talks based off of the looks that they keep exchanging with one another.
    "Would you two stop looking at each other like that?" Cassian asked from beside me. "I can practically hear the sexual innuendos from here."
    I guess I wasn't the only one who noticed.
    "Mated people are insufferable," mumbled Mor from the other side of Cassian.
    "You're one to talk," Rhys drawled. "You should see the way you and Priya act around each other," Rhys references Mor's wife. "Then you'll be questioning who's more insufferable. Newly weds or mates?"
    "You will always be the most insufferable in every category, cousin," Mor responded smiling, while a smile of my own slightly tugged my lips upward.
    I was about to make my own snarky remark when something moving in the trees caught my eye. A second later, a cloaked form that was hunched over appeared, only ten feet away.
    Rhys was instantly in front of Feyre, Cassian and I also taking up defensive positions.
    As the figure looked up, the hood fell in the process, revealing a severely bruised female face. Underneath the bruises, her skin was tan, causing her bright blue eyes and white hair to seem even more vibrant than they already are. She couldn't be more three inches above five feet, almost as short as Amren.
    Her eyes scanned us as I tentatively started stepping toward her. When I was about two feet away, her crystal blue eyes finally slid to mine.
    I felt something ancient and sacred tug in my chest.
    It couldn't be.
    Her mouth had parted, her face looking awed as I suspected mine to be, as she opened her cloak to reveal a bundle of cloth.
    The female shoved the cloth into my arms, and only then did I feel the warmth emanating from the bundle. Could scent a small babe, wrapped tightly in the cloth.
    "Take care of my daughter," she said in a rasping whisper, that had to hurt her purple splotched and swollen throat, all the while, never breaking eye contact with me. "Take care off Lovia."
    And then she blacked out, falling quickly towards the ground.
    Luckily, Cassian had come up from behind me and caught her, with an arm underneath her back, before she could hit the snow covered ground.
    "Shit," he hissed. "This isn't good. This isn't good at all."
    "What?" Feyre asked urgently. "What's wrong with her? Is she okay?"
    Slowly, Cassian switched the hands at her back to reveal the hand that was originally holding her drenched in blood. Drenched in her blood.
    "She's losing a lot of blood. I've got to get this cloak off to see where it's coming from," Cassian said.
    All I could do was just stand there in shock as Cassian, with the help of Rhys, unhooked her cloak and flipped her onto her stomach.
  Her wings were bound in chains. Her poor wings. The metal of the chain has cut into the membrane of her wings, leaving them raw and bleeding.
  Using his Night Court powers, Rhys shattered the lock, causing the chains to fall away, showing the real horror that had been done to her.
  Her gray shirt was ripped to show her entire bare back. Or what's left of it I should say. Her back was ravaged and torn to bits, the skin hanging off in pieces. This amount of damage could only be done with a whip. Repeatedly.
  "Oh gods," breathed Mor.
  "She's bleeding somewhere on her stomach," Rhys interrupted. "I can feel her blood spilling onto my hand," he glanced up at Cassian. "Help me flip her again."
  I had to do something.
  I have to help.
  But all I can do is stand here and watch.
  When they flipped her over, I could see a stain of blood forming on her lower stomach. As Cassian lifted her shirt to reveal the wound, we all gasped.
Sullied had been carved into the lower portion of her stomach.
  Carved.
  Bile crept up my throat and I was barely able to swallow it down.
  What kind of monster would do such a thing to her?
  Feyre immediately unsheathed her dagger, scraped it across her palm, and began to try to force her healing blood down the female's throat.
  "We need to get her to Madja," Rhys said roughly,          "Now."
  They all began to move at once, picking up the female as gentle as possible, careful not to jostle her injuries more than necessary.
  As I stood there, holding the female's daughter, I stated, "She's my mate."