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He put his hands on her. He put his hands on her. He nearly killed her. He put his hands on her.

The shadows had been hissing that at Azriel for the last hour. It filled him with unimaginable rage and fear. She hadn't even been there for a full day yet and she has already been hurt so badly that the shadows were panicked over it? It drove him insane. He wanted to go right to the Autumn Court and take her. He wanted to burn that entire court to the ground for this.

But he couldn't. He couldn't go in there and rescue her and seek revenge. As much as he wished he could, it would start a war. Any move they made could start a war. It would be considered an unprovoked attack, and every other court except the Day Court would likely side with Autumn. And that put everyone's lives at risk—Astryn included.

There was nothing he could do right now and it killed him. It infuriated the shadows.

Coward, they accused furiously, coward. You sit back and do nothing while they hurt her? Coward.

Azriel growled, but he didn't disagree. He felt like a coward. He was leaving her to suffer, to be hurt. He was a coward, just like the shadows said he was.

That idiot brute she was forced to marry will kill her, the shadows whispered, full of such anger and hatred. He'll kill her without even meaning to, he's so stupid. Go kill him before he has the chance to put his hands on her again.

"I can't," Azriel snapped in frustration, "you know I can't."

The shadows swirled angrily but didn't speak to him again.

He couldn't stand sitting still. He went up to the training ring and found Rhys already there. He was wrecking a training dummy—the fourth one so far if the ruined dummies piled up outside of the ring were any indication.

He and Rhys locked eyes for a moment before Azriel let out an angry huff and turned right back around.

"Wait," Rhys's voice stopped him. Azriel came to a halt but he didn't turn to look at his friend. "I'm tired of punching dummies."

"I have no interest in sparring with you, Rhysand," Azriel said coldly, "if I step into that ring, you'll be seeing exactly how much you've pissed me off."

"Don't hold back," Rhys replied simply, watching as Azriel squared his shoulders and stood to his full height.

There was hardly more than a single second before Azriel had crossed the space and entered the training ring. He shoved the training dummy out of the ring and punched the High Lord in the face in one fluid movement. Rhys didn't even have time to retaliate. Azriel swept out his legs from under him and had him on his back.

Rhys got up quickly and landed a punch to Azriel's gut, but the shadowsinger hardly even seemed to notice. His fist swung out with brutal, swift accuracy and connected with Rhys's jaw. He hit again, making good on the warning he had given Rhys. There wasn't a blink between punches. Azriel had Rhys bloody and bruised in only minutes, and then he had him on his back again. Azriel pinned him down, anger and resentment rolling off of him in waves.

"One day," Azriel yelled at him, "I had one fucking day with her, Rhysand! And you decided it was your place to come in and start ordering me away from her. You selfish, privileged little prick. You think you get to dictate her life just because she's your sister? She does not belong to you."

He landed one last punch to Rhys's wrecked face before he pushed himself up off of the High Lord.

"She is not yours," Azriel said, his tone icy as he stood over Rhys, "when I bring her home, you will not order me away from her again."

Much to Azriel's absolutely fury, Rhys let out a raspy laugh. The spymaster was just about ready to beat Rhys into unconsciousness, but the High Lord spoke.

"I should've seen it," he murmured, his voice gravelly, "Cauldron, it's so obvious."

"Get to the point," Azriel demanded, glaring at his friend.

"She's your mate," Rhys said what had been so obvious this entire time, "she's your mate, Azriel."

Rhys laughed again, his face scrunched up in pain. Of course. Of course Astryn was Azriel's mate. And thank Mother she was, because it gave them an out.

Azriel breathed heavily, the truth of it hitting him like an arrow.

Mate, the shadows repeated to him, mate, mate, mate.

"I'm going to the Autumn Court," Azriel growled, "now."

"Take Cassian," Rhys requested, sitting up after a bit of a struggle to do it, "do not go there alone."

Azriel only nodded, taking a split second to survey the damage he had done to his friend, his High Lord. Not a single part of him way sorry for it.

He stormed into the house and found Cassian quickly.

"Cassian," his words were still more than a growl than anything, "we're going to Autumn. Now."

"Where's Rhys?" Cassian asked, eyes darting to Azriel's bloodied knuckles and the blood splattered on him. Cassian could tell by the scent that it was Rhys's blood.

"He's in no condition to travel," Azriel said coldly, "and I'm in no mood to talk about him. Either come with me now or I will go alone."

Cassian almost questioned him again, almost asked what the plan here was. He decided against it. He could ask his questions later or just figure it out as they went.

Azriel's fury was a suffocating thing, and Cassian knew he was going with him more to stop him than to help him. Azriel could take on the Autumn Court alone. Cassian needed to be there to stop him from slaughtering the entire court, to keep him from reducing the court to nothing but ash and rubble.

Cassian knew from one look at Azriel that bloodshed was unavoidable here.

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