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13. Copper-Kissed

As Eris poured you another shot, you said, "So, wait . . . Let me get this straight. Your brother — half-brother, Lucien, was the result of an affair between your mother, Lady Euphenes, and Helion?"

Once Eris poured himself a shot, he said, "Yes. It was quite messy when it came to light."

You looked to where Beron and Euphenes stood by the empty fireplace. He stood in front of her like he didn't want her wandering off without his permission.

"She's barely spoken tonight . . ." You shifted on the settee. "Does your father . . ?"

Eris had raised his shot too. "I made sure she was out of the continent before the news broke, but once she returned, my father . . . expressed his grievances. But she comes from a prominent family, thank the Mother, so he couldn't do much."

Your chest ached. "Why hasn't anyone done anything yet? She's clearly not safe."

"You think I don't know that? Everyone knows that. It's . . ." Eris lowered his voice. "It's only a matter of time now."

He threw his shot back, grimacing. You weren't entirely sure what he was talking about, but you figured it had something to do with his father.

After you took your own shot, you said, "Did you know that where I'm from, the killing of one's father is so common that there's a word for it? It's called 'patricide.'"

Eris tried to cough around a laugh, failed, and then choked on his spit.

You grinned at him as he caught his breath.

"You can't just say that," he said, clearing his throat. "Someone could've heard you."

You rolled your eyes.

Eris opened his mouth to say something but snapped it shut a second later. He gave you a pointed look as he poured himself another shot.

The back of your neck tingled under someone's watchful eye, so you turned around.

When you spotted Azriel's blue siphons by the veranda glass doors, you dragged your gaze up to his face — and then locked eyes. You swung an arm across the back of the settee and then batted your eyelashes, going for a curious, innocent look.

When Azriel's upper lip and wings twitched, the right side of your mouth drew up. He was fighting a knee-jerk reaction but failing miserably.

Because of the bond, you felt his frustration, tasted it in the back of your throat.

But because it worked both ways, he knew you were amused.

You wanted to resume your conversation with Eris because he was currently spilling the tea on everyone, but then you felt it.

Something snapped through the bond.

You figured it was Azriel's composure because he broke off from the group he'd been chatting with and then made a beeline for you. You'd sobered up quite a bit while listening to Eris — but now wished that you were blackout drunk for whatever fresh hell was about to go down.

You turned back around, waiting for Azriel.

Eris smirked into the bottle.

When the shadowsinger came to a stop by your settee, his wings rustled. "(Y/n)," he said, "we're leaving soon."

You smiled up at him. "You don't have to tell me your comings and goings, Azriel. You can do as you please."

Somewhere behind you, Cassian muttered, "Cauldron spare him."