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54. To Deserve (Pt. 2)

After a half day's travel and unsuccessful flying lessons, you reached the Summer Court with Azriel, Marko, and Hal.

As for Devlon? Well, you'd ordered him to stay in Rippa Harbor because you were still upset with him.

As Tarquin's white and golden beachfront palace came into view, Azriel adjusted you in his arms and said, "You should've let him come."

You barely refrained from making a face. "Why?"

Azriel tucked in his wings, letting himself fall a couple hundred feet.

But you didn't react. You'd gotten used to it by now.

"He'll be pissed about it forever."

Azriel hadn't slowed his descent yet, so you went a little airborne . . .

But still, you didn't react.

An ache had blossomed in your chest. You narrowed your eyes at the beautiful blue sky and muttered, "He might not even have forever."

"(Y/n)." Azriel finally slowed down, pressing his lips together. After the quick drop, your hair was windswept, and your blue beaded tunic wrinkled. "Come on . . . You don't know that. No one does."

You didn't say anything as he flew past the palace and then swung around to land eastbound on the white stone drawbridge. When he put you down, and you fixed your dark brown leather pants and shin-high low-heel boots. Marko and Hal landed behind you as the bridge was lowered.

"(Y/n) . . ?" Azriel touched your elbow, and his eyes darted about your face. "I thought we were okay."

You wrung your hands and glanced back at the other males you'd traveled with. They weren't paying attention, but still, you lowered your voice when you said, "We are. I'm just . . . I'll be — upset for a while. Not because of you, though. I'll just be upset in general . . ." You looked away. "I'll just be . . . upset . . . in general."

Azriel huffed out a laugh and gave you a dubious look. "That doesn't sound very convincing."

"We're okay." You rubbed the nape of your neck, already sweating because of the summer heat. It was nothing like Illyria. "And I'll be okay."

"(Y/n)—"

"War happens," you said. "People die. Devlon said something like that the day before yesterday."

"But you don't want him to."

"What does that even—? Look, Az. If you want us to be okay, then stop acting like you knew I'd be upset about the Devlon thing. Because if you did, then you took the choice I gave him, the out I gave him, away, knowing how much it'd hurt me."

Azriel crossed his arms and glanced around. He had the audacity to look nervous. "You said we were okay."

You flexed your hands, your patience wearing thin. "Azriel—"

"(Y/n)! Welcome to the Summer Court."

You whirled around, locking eyes with—

"Eris," you breathed. "Where's—?"

"Tarquin's busy," the High Lord of Autumn said, waving his hands. "There was a problem with tables in a ballroom, so he sent me to greet you."

"Ah, I see." You cleared your throat as you gave the redhead a quick once-over. He was wearing an off-white robe that revealed most of his chest and legs. It reminded you of the fashion in the Day Court. "And I see you're already dressed for the Solstice."

Eris grinned and spread his arms. "I'm glad you noticed. I wanted you to notice."

Azriel huffed out a laugh of disbelief.