Elain stumbled through the curtains, drunk on fae wine, and unsure of where exactly she was headed when a flash of light caught her attention.
Blue sapphire siphons. Scars. Piercing hazel eyes. Shadows.
Azriel.
His name came to the forefront of her mind, and she felt instinct overtake her body. It was as if she could do nothing other than try to touch him. His instantaneous reaction to pull her close further intensified her yearning, and now she was here, drawing him into a small alcove in Helion's corridor for gods-only-knew WHAT sinister purpose, her body in complete control over her mind, the fae wine no doubt influencing her decisions as well.
Dragging him behind the silky curtains, the space was dark, the only light being the glow from the exterior torches. It was barely large enough for two fae, let alone a winged fae as tall and broad as Azriel, forcing them to stand close.
"What are you doing?" He whispered, his gleaming hazel eyes guarded with suspicion and uncertainty.
"I could ask you the same thing" she replied, nodding her head towards his enormous wings, causing the Shadowsinger to drop his gaze, a dark blush rising to color his cheekbones.
A moment of silence passed, and Elain found herself leaning forward, slightly dizzy and unfocused from the pure undiluted pleasure of having Azriel standing so close to her: his scent and warmth even more intoxicating than the alcohol she had just downed. Elain's brown eyes dragged across his short obsidian hair, down toward his strong jaw, tanned neck, broad chest... and the scarred hand that she was still holding. She absentmindedly rubbed her thumb along a thick scar, drawing herself even closer to his warmth.
Clearing his throat and swallowing, Azriel angled away from her slightly, facing toward the curtain.
"You looked nice dancing with Lucien." He remarked quietly, avoiding her gaze, a glimmer of resentment rimming his eyes.
"Oh really?" She purred, her voice taking on a playful edge.
She realized hazily that she had no desire to talk about Lucien. It was Azriel and only Azriel that she cared to think about at this moment. It was a dangerous thought, but not wholly unfamiliar to her.
"If I was so pleasant to watch, why did you need fly away, Shadow Dancer?"
"Shadow Dancer? I'm a Shadowsinger." He replied, matching her edge, a smile crinkling his eyes. He let out a dramatic sigh, a mock offended expression lilting his smile. "Gone for only one day and you've already forgotten about me."
"Firstly, I could never forget about you." Elain's voice dropped slightly, as she took a step toward him. "And secondly, I've yet to hear you sing OR see you dance, so for all I know, you're just 'Shadows' period."
She cocked her face to the side, raising a brow, and pointed a finger into his chest, coming close enough that he could see down her dress if he but glanced downward. They were chest to chest, and she could hear his heartbeat racing, his scent heady. She felt her breasts push up against him, and vaguely recognized that he was not wearing his typical leathers, but some sort of thin gauze shirt. Her nipples hardened, feeling his warm skin through the fabric. Without considering anything other than the intense need to be near him, she leaned even closer, pressing her breasts into his chest, her chin raised to his beautiful face.
"I see that Day Court Elain has a slightly different flavor," Azriel drawled, glancing down at her mouth with a slow smile.
And before she could stop herself, Elain smirked right back at him, lowering her eyes to his lips, and whispered "how would you know when you've never tasted her?"
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How in Mother's name did Rhysand expect Azriel to keep his distance??
Here he was, crammed up in this tiny alcove, Elain practically on top of him, breasts heavy and peaking on his chest, her scent of arousal so beautiful and overwhelming that he felt like was going insane. Somewhere in his mind, he knew Elain was drunk. And he knew that HE was stone-fucking cold sober. He knew her mate was somewhere nearby, Rhys too, and and he knew that they were here in Patras, throwing this gods-damned party in honor of Elain and her fucking mate.
Azriel knew all these details, yes.
But he also knew that he wanted her.
Gods... he wanted her.
Right here, right now.
His pants strained against his cock as she leaned into him, honey and jasmine, her soft creamy skin beckoning, and through the wisp of fabric she was using for a gown, he could feel the heat growing below her navel.
It was unbearable.
And Azriel knew that if he stayed in this fucking alcove with her for even a second longer, he would either combust into flames or do something he would regret. Well, maybe not regret. But something that would definitely begin a war with Autumn, the humans, and quite possibly the Spring Court as well.
He needed to end this.
Now.
Swallowing, Azriel turned his face and body away from her, creating space. "And has your mate had the pleasure of tasting?" He drawled, donning a mask of indifference.
It was a low blow.
And it killed him. It absolutely killed him to push her away. But he had to do it because it was right. And as he waited for her reaction, Azriel's mind flashed back to the gardens in Velaris, suddenly worried that she would winnow away again after facing his rejection. But to his great surprise, drunk Day Court Elain didn't seem to give two shits about being rejected.
Instead, she chuckled softly, leaning back against the cool marble, nipples still peaked through her dress, and narrowed her eyes, surveying him under thick lashes.
"I've always had a mate Azriel."
Folding her arms in front of her and pulling up her foot to rest on the wall behind, she leaned at a jaunted angle, her hip cocked, and a long tanned leg slipping out of the slit in her gown. Her shoulders back, bangles and necklaces glittering in the torchlight, she was a goddess of seduction. The very movement of drawing away from him, his name on her lips.... He felt himself involuntarily draw closer again.
"Grayson... Lucien... I've always been spoken for." She drawled, her voice raspy and the wine slurring her words. "It never stopped us in the past."
"You're here to court Lucien." He growled, feeling frustrated, and taking another step closer.
Her doe eyes penetrated his, her gaze unmoving as she raised an arched brow. "Lucien... Mor... why does it matter."
That gods-damned necklace.
He gleaned away from her toward the ground. "I just couldn't keep the necklace... it was... I didn't actually give it to Mor.. I gave it to Gwyn, and then..."
"Gwynneth? Really Azriel? Another female in this depressing tale of the traveling necklace, and you're lecturing me about respecting my bond with Lucien?" She rolled her eyes, pushing off the wall, making for the edge of the alcove. "Fine. Maybe I'm one of many females to you. Whatever."
"You're NOT."
The word flew out of him with more force than he expected, his hands landing with a heavy thud on both sides of her shoulders, stopping her exit and pinning her against the wall, chest-to-chest. He leaned over her, his wings flaring, meeting her stare, eye to eye, his breath hot on her face.
"Then prove it." Elain's voice was rough, almost a whisper, the wine swirling in her eyes, her lips already glistening.
So Azriel, ever so slowly, and ever so stupidly, took one hand away from the wall and reached down, roughly grabbing the thigh peeking out from the slit in her gown, and hoisted it up against him, closing the last bit of space between them, grinding his hard cock into her, causing her to yelp, before she was also pushing against him, grabbing at his waist, her hands pulling at his thin shirt to get to the skin beneath.
Cauldron help him. Mother save him. He was going to hells. Or at the very least, he was going to start a war.
And maybe the Mother did come to save him because it was the moment immediately before their lips crashed against each other and after they had started ravaging each other's clothing that Azriel heard the curtain dragging away, light from the torches flooding their alcove, only to reveal Lady Death herself.
Nesta Archeron.
Nesta stood, framed in the torchlight, smirking at her sister with a hand on her hip. "Elain dear, didn't you know it's rude to leave your own party?"
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"I thought we were courting foxes, not bats." Nesta hissed into Elain's ear, taking her hand and dragging her from the alcove and back toward the party.
"Maybe I prefer bats to foxes." Elain spat out, trying to wrench her hand away from her sister, her other hand reaching for Azriel, who was already walking away down the long corridor, away from them.
"Well if that's the case, then why are we throwing a fucking party for you to court Lucien?" Nesta stopped walking, staring her sister down with frustration.
Elain looked away, her shoulders slumping.
"Maybe I've had too much wine." She looked up at Nesta sheepishly. "I just can't explain it. When I'm near Azriel, I feel like I'm losing my mind. Like I just have to... he's just so..." Elain struggled to come up with the words.
Trying to change the subject her eyes narrowed on Nesta, "how did you even know where I was in the first place?"
"Come on sis. I've known about you two since ... the headache tonic? Really Elain, you should have just given him a giant card that said 'I'm in love with you.' I've always known how you two feel about each other. Which begs the question, why in Mother's name are you DOING THIS to yourself." Nesta's hands gripped her sister's shoulders passionately, shaking her slightly.
"Gods Elain. Why are we here? What are we doing? Fuck Lucien. He's Feyre's friend, not ours. We don't owe him anything. We can start a war. The blood duel. Whatever." Elain smiled, shaking away from Nesta's grasp as she closed her eyes with a sigh. "Seriously El. I don't care who you choose, I just want you to be happy. If you don't want to be here, TELL ME."
Elain laughed then, reaching up and untangling her hair from the jeweled glips and ropes, letting it fall, sprawling over her shoulders.
Nesta always knew.
The pair walked amicably back through the curtains, arm in arm, and into the party, Elain pondering Nesta's outburst. She sighed, pausing their journey to lean against a nearby palm, turning to face the dance floor, the torches casting the glow illuminating her face.
"I don't know Nes. Azriel and I are complicated." She shook her head, her eyes following the bare back of a dark female, dancing seductively near her mate. "I'm not supposed to want him. I'm supposed to want Lucien!"
She huffed a sigh, shaking her head again, as if she could shake off the desire she felt in the alcove... "And I want to believe the Cauldron chooses mates for a reason. Look at you and Cassian! And Rhys and Fey... I know I can do this. I know I should trust the Cauldron."
"Damn that fucking Cauldron!" Nesta bellowed loudly, drawing attention from nearby faeries chatting in the moonlight. "I would be more than happy to help you screw it over. I'm still salty that it picked Cassian for me, otherwise I absolutely would have given it the proverbial finger towards its choice of mate for me."
Elain laughed, linking her arm with her sister. "I appreciate it Nes, I really do. But I'm going to try this with Lucien. I know I can get Azriel out of my head... I just think I had too much wine, and him and I have some... tension."
"Uh no shit," Nesta turned to face Elain. "You two were going to straight-up have sex in that cubby hole if I hadn't yanked you out of there."
Elain turned beet red, hushing her sister and looking around the party in case anyone overheard.
"I know, I know. I'm stupid. I just really need to stay away from Az and focus on Lucien. He's my mate. And look at you and Feyre... you guys haven't stopped humping your mates from the moment the bond clicked." She rolled her eyes, elbowing her sister before her thoughts became wistful. "Maybe it will be the same for me and Lucien. Someday."
"I can't lie... the mating bond is incredible." Nesta's eyes glittered slightly. "But there are also instances where the bond doesn't turn into a love match. Rhysand's parents were one of those types of couples for Mother's sake. Don't downplay this. Why not just go for Azriel if you feel so strongly toward him?"
The question lingered in the air, and the two sisters ambled over to the side of the party, leaning out over a marble veranda which overlooked the gleaming fae lights of Patras. The breeze from the River Sol played with Elain's curls, cooling her shoulders, and sobering her mind. She took a deep breath, and for the first time in her life, she opened herself up completely and honestly to her sister, pouring out her heart.
"I can't choose Azriel." Elain heaved a sigh, closing her eyes as the words unleashed, a waterfall of thoughts spilling out.
"No matter how much drunk me, or even sober me, if I'm being honest, wants him to ravish me in an alcove. I can't choose him."
Nesta's eyes were wide as Elain turned to face her sister, her words brimming with emotions, the tears curling behind her lids, ready to spring forward.
"Because... bec..." Elain cleared her throat, focused her eyes, and steadied her voice, determined to make it through. "Because what if, someday I choose him, but then HIS mate comes along. What if I choose him, giving up Lucien, my mate, only to be abandoned when some perfect female shows up on his doorstep, ready to lay claim to him."
Nesta opened her mouth to argue, but Elain ignored her. "You've seen how the males in mating bonds are. They can't avoid it the way the females can. Even if he loved me back... I don't know if he could withstand the call of a real bond. Azriel is one of the most powerful fae in Prythian: the Cauldron is bound to mate him with someone someday. Maybe she's even alive right now, existing off somewhere in the Winter Court or something, but we just don't know about her yet. Cassian lived for almost five hundred years before you came along Nes. What if I'm with Azriel, happier than I've ever been, only for him to leave me in two centuries to go be with some other girl. Female. Ugh. You know what I mean."
The uncharacteristically long speech from Elain had quieted Nesta who was leaning over the veranda, pondering her sister's words for some time before turning to look Elain in the eyes.
"I understand." Nesta breathed the words quietly. "Sometimes protecting our heart comes before giving our heart what it wants."
"Exactly."
Elain sighed, flipping around to lean her elbows on the balcony, facing the party once again. Nesta copied her movement before beckoning a nearby servant with wine glasses, taking one for herself and handing one to Elain. Solemnly facing her sister, Nesta raised her glass.
"So you're going to promise me that you will STOP trying to ravish Azriel in Helion's alcoves when no one is looking?" Nesta was turning the conversation back toward playful territory, and Elain gratefully took the bait, laughing and raising her glass.
"I promise, but only if you don't tell anyone that it's a hard promise for me to make." Nesta grinned and nodded, and as they took a sip of wine, a small tattoo appeared on both of their pinkies, the fae magic of a bargain taking effect without them even realizing they had asked for it.
"Ugh. I don't know if I'll ever get used to magic." Nesta brought her finger closer to her face. "It's a small bunny. Maybe it's because you two have been trying to fuck like rabbits—"
Elain reached out and covered Nesta's mouth, laughing and sipping her wine.
"I honestly don't know what came over me. He's just so... " Elain's sentence dropped off as Nesta picked it up.
"Azriel is Azriel. He's just fucking beautiful."
Elain wanted to tell her sister that it was more than his beauty that drew her in, that it wasn't just that her body needed his for its material form, but more for the soul within him. But she nodded, chuckling with Nesta, because at the end of the day— her sister was right.
Azriel was fucking beautiful.