Dark Light

9. A Bead of Light

Once Azriel winnowed the three of you back to the river house, Cassian was the first to speak. "Wait, so — you can fly? With your powers?"

You snorted as you unclasped your cloak. "No. Think of it as, um, something to break my fall. I can lift things, but nothing more than, like, fifty pounds. Maybe."

You refrained from telling them that using moonlight to lift things was an entirely different story.

Cassian furrowed his brow. "But what about before, when you walked over the house?"

"Yeah, no," you said, shrugging out of your cloak. "That wasn't flying. I was walking from one panel of light to the next, not holding myself up." You followed the boys toward the front door and then added wistfully, "I can't believe we had to leave early. I was having fun."

Cassian grinned and started to say something, but Azriel cut him off, tone clipped. "Then you were having too much fun," he said, giving you a once-over. "You need to stop getting into trouble while you're here. Not every Rolant will have a happy ending."

Your mouth dropped open.

Even Cassian looked shocked.

"Do you really think I wanted Rolant to happen to me?" you asked, coming to a stop. "That I wanted him to burn my hands off?"

Something pained flickered through Azriel's features, but it didn't break him.

If anything, it made him angrier.

"Of course not," he snarled. "But it's neither my responsibility nor Rhysand's to fix your problems while you're here, and that includes any accidents or injuries caused by your powers. Or lack thereof."

You blinked slowly. "Did you really just say that?"

Azriel narrowed his eyes. "You almost got into a fight with a seasoned Illyrian warlord, so yes. I meant every word."

You stared at him, feeling betrayed more than anything else. Because he didn't trust or have faith in you.

"The Rolant situation may've been bad," you said, just barely keeping your cool, "but it won't happen again, ever again. Not because I'll shy away from Prythian and all its little monsters, but because I'll know how to save myself next time, and no thanks to you." And then, before he could seize the last word, you added, "So don't worry, Azriel. You won't have to care about me any more than you already don't."

A muscle in his neck jumped as he fought to keep his mouth shut.

"Okay, let's maybe not do this right now," Cassian said, stepping toward you two. "Helion's waiting inside, (Y/n)."

Before going in, you caught Azriel's yellow-green eyes one more time to behold his anger, frustration, and untapped violence.

If you were being honest, you hadn't once thought that Azriel's shadows were the source of that violence. Whenever you'd had dreams about him in your own universe, the first thing you'd sense was his aura, a comforting slipstream of darkness that oozed something primal.

Something that had called to you.

But for the time being, that violence was nothing more than a whisper — a mere suggestion.

As you reached the front door, you couldn't help but wonder if the harp had gotten it all wrong.

But Azriel was your mate, so . . .

You frowned as you reached for the handle, but someone opened the door from inside.

"Ah, hello! You're back. It's a pleasure to meet you, (Y/n) (Y/l/n). I'm High Lord Helion."