Chapter 3

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The library didn't feel safe anymore. From the people who had hurt her, yes, but not from whatever it was that had attacked her last night. Gwyn closed the book she had been reading, placing it back on the pile to return and glanced at the candle beside her, it had almost burned down, she had maybe half an hour before sunset, and she didn't want to be here then. She made her way up to the library's entrance, waiting just inside, still scared to step properly outside on her own, especially when people were milling around the streets, males she didn't know. She would wait here.

She was only waiting a few moments before wingbeats sounded and Azriel landed on the street outside, and pushed the door open,

"Are you sure you want to come?"

"Yes. I," she paused, glancing back for a moment, "I don't feel safe here. I do with you." He nodded, glancing back outside, but Gwyn caught a glimpse of his smile, the tears in his eyes, but when he turned back to her, all sign of them was gone. He offered her his hand,

"I'll have to carry you," he started, and paused, seemingly lost for words,

"I trust you." Gwyn took his hand and stepped outside, immediately backing into him, the solid mass of him behind her reassuring her, she smiled as he curved a wing around her almost instinctively, making to draw it back when he realized, "No. Leave it." He let it curl back around her, and she pressed into his side, she could do this, she could walk through a crowded street, she wasn't alone anymore, she could do it.

Azriel squeezed her shoulder gently, and dropped his hand to her side, cautious of spooking her, but she grabbed his hand, holding on as he started, surprise glimmering in his eyes,

"You're not going to scare me off, Az." She followed his gaze to where their hands joined, the sadness, almost horror in his gaze, "We all have scars, Az. Yours are no more shameful than mine." she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, and he smiled, really smiled, and squeezed her hand gently, leading her into the street. They stayed near the edge, with Azriel closest to the people walking up and down the street, and gradually Gwyn's fear faded, not disappeared, but faded, she was alright, and she could look after herself now. As her fear faded, she began to take in the beauty of Velaris, the shopfronts, the restaurants, the way the Sidra shined in the moonlight as they walked next to it, taking a short walk as she had asked before flying up to the House of Wind.

As beautiful as the city was, it was nothing compared to the night sky, nothing compared to the full moon shining bright over the city, the wind rushing over her face with each of Azriel's wingbeats. Gwyn had been grinning the moment he had lifted her into his arms to take off, and now she let out a whoop of joy, earning a chuckle from Azriel,

"What?" She asked,

"Nothing, it's just, your joy is infectious." He laughed again, flipping onto his back so that she could see the stars better, and she gasped as a shooting star crossed the sky, sending a trail of light through the inky black. When Azriel turned back to fly normally, he flapped harder for a moment, and Gwyn threw her arms round his neck, clinging on at the sudden rush of speed, but let out another whoop of joy as he sped up,

"I see why you love flying so much," she mused, "It's freedom."

"It is. And more than that," he sighed, as if deciding whether to continue, "I don't know what anyone told you about my mother."

"Just that she and your father weren't married."

"Married? No, not to each other, anyway. My father was married to another female, I was the product of an affair, a reminder of it. He-" he broke off, glancing around, and Gwyn squeezed his shoulder, resting her head against his chest, she would be there if he wanted to talk, whenever he wanted to talk. "I spent the first eleven years of my life in a cell underground, not able to fly or see my mother more than once a week. That's why I love flying, it's a reminder that no matter what, no matter how bad something is, it can get better."

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