A Court of Storms and Stars

Chapter 12

The silence of the encroaching night lulls me into a peaceful state. I lay sprawled out on the daybed, a golden wool blanket on my lap. Slowly, the stars begin to make themselves known in the sky, twinkling against the last of the sun's rays in the darkening sky. 

Every few months, Eris takes a leave for an entire night. He never tells me where he is going, and I don't press him to know. Instead, I enjoy the spaciousness of the shared suite by myself. Last night, I was once again greeted by the High Lord of the Night Court instead of Azriel. I was better at hiding my disappointment this time, at least. Rhysand must have seen right through the challenge of keeping the Shadowsinger's name off of my lips because before he left, he said quietly, "Azriel is doing well."

On the table next to me sits an almost empty glass of red wine. I sigh as I remove the blanket from my lap, the coolness of the night seeping into my body from the open balcony doors, and trudge to the counter in the shared living space. 

Nights like tonight, when I am alone with the stars, I miss the bustling of my home village. I miss the few nights spent under the speckled sky in the Night Court. I crave the touch of his shadows. Sometimes, I wish I could just winnow myself there and forget all that I am doing here. Forget all the wrongs I have done that prevent me from embracing that life. All the fae that I have killed... 

With the wine bottle in my hand, I freeze mid-pour. The presence of another person in the room enters my consciousness. I turn, expecting to see Eris, but am rendered speechless. Azriel, clad in a dark suit, stands in the corner of the room. My knees buckle at the sight of the smile spread on his delicious lips. 

"Azriel?" My senses return and I look to the door in a slight panic. "What are you doing in here? It is not safe. Eris--"

In a few strides, Azriel stands before me. Something in my core heats up at our closeness. His smile only widens. "Eris is preoccupied."

I lift an inquisitive brow, "How do you know?"

Azriel lifts his hand and places it on my cheek, gently brushing his fingers along the side of my face. My breath catches as I lean into his electrifying touch. He brings his lips closer to my ears, "I am a Shadowsinger, remember?" As if called, his shadows reach out and caress my legs and arms. My own shadows meet his. His voice in my ear sends a pleasant shiver running down my spine. 

In this moment, I don't care. I don't care that we are in the Forest House within the Autumn Court. I don't care that I have made a bargain with the heir to this court. I don't care that everything says we should not do this. 

I need it. 

I need him. 

My shadows take the bottle still in my hands and places it on the counter behind me. I close the space between us and press my lips against his in a glorious claim. He responds graciously, gripping my lower back. His hand at my cheek moves to the back of my head, his fingers lacing into my hair. The kisses become deeper, more passionate. Our lips part and our tongues mingle with each other as if a desperate reunion with one another. My hands grip the jacket of his suit. I want to desperately to tear his clothing off. His beautiful wings are tucked in close. 

His hand in my hair tugs and I gasp as my head is pulled back, exposing my neck. His lips break away from mine and he kisses my chin before moving to my neck. I am lost in the pure bliss of our touching bodies and the pleasure of his lips on my skin. 

Azriel bends down and picks me up from my thighs. I wrap my legs around his waist as he moves past the counter, into my bedroom and pushes me up against the wall. Our lips crash in more passion as he removes his jacket and shirt with ease. I move to remove my own blouse, but am stopped by the light grip of his shadows. They hold my wrists together and move them above my head as Azriel unbuttons my shirt. 

"Not a day went by that I didn't think of you. Of this," he purrs against the skin of my exposed chest. I moan as his now free hands travel along my body. One clasps my breast, the other moves downward, slipping underneath the hem of my flowing silk pants. His fingers reach the spot between my thighs and I moan, my back arching. 

That tether that ties us together slowly becomes stronger, steadier with each touch, each caress. 

"Azriel," I breath, my voice heady. I feel him hardening underneath his remaining clothing. With my hands still clasped above my head, I let my shadows move up his legs, working to undo his bottoms. One tender shadow slithers to his wing and brushes lightly against it. 

He shudders under the touch before biting down on my breast. I gasp in pleasure, and my shadows retreat. He looks at me, his eyes full of desire. "That was naughty," he says, his voice laced with an equal need. 

"I need you," I nod towards the bed behind us. 

His smile widens. "I recall telling you that I would kiss every inch of your body while you were pinned against a wall," he teases.

I open my mouth to respond but am startled by the sound of someone pounding on the door to the suite. Both Azriel and I freeze, listening and hoping. Hoping that whoever is knocking will give up and move on. 

But the pounding continues. "Eris, open this door." Beron's deep voice bellows from behind the door to the main room. 

"Shit," I curse as we untangle ourselves. My body already aches for more of his touch. He hands me my shirt and I put it on hastily. Had it been anyone else at the door, I would have let them pound until they wandered off. But if I don't answer him, Beron will barge in. 

"Don't worry," Azriel says in a low whisper. "We will resume this soon." As his shadows swallow him, ready to bring him somewhere other than here, he kisses me one last time. A parting gift that curls my toes and causes my legs to wobble. 

When he is gone, I tie my hair up and envelope myself in a glamour that hides scent and all other evidence of events. I throw another glamour over the suite to be sure before opening the door to an angry High Lord. He wears his armor, a sword strapped to his hip. 

"Where is my son?" He seethes, looking past me and into the room. 

My head is still buzzing from the sensual activities with Azriel, causing me to stumble on my words. "Eris is..."

Beron looks to me with a plethora of irritation. Had I been a fae of lesser stature, I would wince under his blazing gaze. Instead I stand firm, the possibility of a confrontation clearing my mind. 

"Eris is--"

"Right here," a voice says calmly from behind me, causing me to jump slightly. I swing the door open further and see the High Lord's son standing beside me. "How may I help you, father?"

Beron looks to his son and all but growls with anger as he says, "Reports of a group of mercenaries moving in on the Forest House." He flicks his head, "Come."

Eris walks past me, then turns, his expression unreadable. "Are you not coming?"

Beron spins, "No, she is not." I glare at him.

Eris clicks his tongue, "Trust me father, if you want to send them running in terror, you should let her come."

Now I turn my glare to Eris, my nostrils flaring. He is parading my magic as if I were simply a tool to be used. I open my mouth to argue, to tell him that I will not leave this room when Beron grunts, "Fine. Come, Keeper, and let loose." 

As an assumed member of the Autumn Court, I have no choice but to obey the High Lord's command. Eris holds my gaze, his own unwavering. I clamp my mouth shut and allow my magic to bring forward my armor. I walk past Eris with grinding anger.