A Court of Golden Shadow || Elain x Azriel

Chapter 21 - The Next Lady of Autumn

"We can't leave her here alone."

"She's not alone." Lucien snarled, stepping toward Rhys, flames warming his palms.

Azriel's wings flared instinctively as Cassian leaned forward, siphons glowing, ready to cross the study to get between the fox and his High Lord.

They had been in the meeting in Helion's personal study for less than thirty minutes and it was already going to hells. The fox had descended into some sort of protective guilty madness, intent on arguing against anything Rhys suggested. Feyre was pacing the room, frustration billowing from her face and posture as she drew her eyes toward her mate, indecision crowding her brows. Nesta had refused to attend the meeting, declaring that " at this moment in time, she would rather spend time with the King of Hybern reincarnated than share airspace with Vanserra ." Which Azriel thought was a touch dramatic, though amusing.

The stand-off was interrupted by Feyre.

"We understand that Lucien. But Elain is emotional; volatile. She was lured into the river by what we can only assume was Koschei's spirit, nearly causing her to drown. She's upset, but she won't come back with us to Velaris." The High Lady's voice was devoid of joy.

"So what do you propose?" Lucien's tone began to calm as his flames died out, a slow weariness spreading over his posture. "I want to help her... I want her to be happy." His shoulders slumped.

"Are you sure about that?" Azriel hadn't spoken the entire meeting, unwilling to even look at the fox. But now he turned towards the red-haired male, shadows swirling and spearing before him, taking a step closer, fury and malice seething from his gaze.

Rhys raised his face from his hands, flashing a look of warning through his fingers.

Azriel ignored him.

His voice was low, a snarl forming, his wings flaring as each syllable dripped from his mouth. "Because from what I've seen, it appears that you don't give two shits about Elain or her happiness. Unless caring about her happiness includes throwing her into a slab of marble after abandoning her in front of all of Patras to go hump up against another wo—"

"ENOUGH." Rhys snarled, standing up, galactic night dripping from his shoulders, wings forming behind him, enveloping the gathering of high fae.

The pair stood, nose to nose, blue siphons blazing against red and orange flame as Azriel's wings flared to their entire span, taking up the length of the study, shadows hissing and enveloping Lucien, whose posture held firm, unwilling to back down, his eye whirring as he snarled toward the Shadowsinger. They stared back at each other, their breath meeting between their faces, as Azriel saw a flash of confusion cross Lucien's good eye before it narrowed, descending into total fury. Halting his breathing, Azriel's eyes widened slightly, his mind racing, wondering if the fox had scented—

Feyre stepped between them, pressing a hand to both of their chests.

"Our proposal," she said, ignoring Azriel and zeroing in on Lucien, a slice of flame enveloping the hand on his chest, a not-so-subtle reminder of her equal power to the fireling. "Is that a group of us stay behind, to support Elain. She showed Rhys the visions, and we know for certain that it was Koschei. But unlike a typical vision, he seemed to be communicating directly to her."

Lucien stepped away from Feyre's burning hand as Azriel tucked his wings in and turned on his heel toward the columned archway.

"So," Rhys picked up where Feyre left off. "Until we can figure out what in Cauldron's name is going on, we think it would be best for Elain to have some protection and familiar faces around to support her."