A Court of Love and Healing {ACOTAR}

A Catastrophe Waiting to Happen

Gwyn sniffles as she takes a deep breath of the chilled evening air. Azriel has been gone on missions the last few days and while she understands, she has become unreasonably angry about it. At first, she believed it to be a symptom of their still fairly new mate bond, but it’s not. She found that out rather quickly when she was making breakfast today—and burnt her toast with her bare hands.

Technically, she didn’t just burn it. She lit it on fire. So much so that she had to throw it in the sink and use her elbow to turn the faucet on and put out her hands, as they were blazing like torches. She had woken up in an empty bed yet again with no note and she couldn’t stop a phantom rage from running through her. They were keeping him away from her. That’s all it took. One stupid thought and that fury rushed through her and burned through her veins. It terrified her. She had never known herself to be an angry person, especially not over something so silly that she understood. She knew about Azriel’s job. She knew some things he couldn’t speak of. She knew the war was looming. And yet—yet her hands had turned into fireballs out of nowhere. As they fizzled out under the water, so did that foreign anger. What was left was an aching hollowness and guilt.

This could not be happening. She cannot just all of a sudden have Autumn Court powers. Yes, while her father and uncle hail from Autumn, she has never once experienced symptoms like this. Not only that, but how does this even work with her water powers from her nymph side?

Unfortunately, she had never actively trained those either...which she is beginning to regret. How the hell can both reside within her? How can water and fire coexist in one person? She is definitely some sort of freak of nature. Water, fire, and lightsinger powers...that has to be some anomaly.

Tears make their way down her face as she stares at her hands then back up at the fading dusk sky. This can’t happen. She can’t have this. She has to hide it or make it go away. She cannot wield fire when her mate has been traumatized by it. She refuses to hurt him, even by accident.

Taking in another gulp of air she grabs a sword and does some training motions to further strengthen her left wrist. Azriel had the idea for the girls to train with both hands like the Illyrians, and she couldn’t say it was a bad idea. It would certainly help in any war they fought as Valkyries.

Moments later she hears the loud beating of wings and a soft thud. Gwyn doesn’t so much as acknowledge him as one small curling tendril of annoyance swirls in her gut. She tries to ignore it.

Azriel walks up and gently sidles her, reaching down to caress her arm, then correct her position. “Like this”, he says softly.

That’s all it took.

Gwyn yanks herself away and whirls on him, swinging. Azriel jumps back, eyes widening. “Gwyn!”

Gwyn seethes and glances at the sword before tossing it down, slight guilt gnawing at her, that fury rushing through her like burning hot waves in her veins.

“How dare you!? Where were you!?”

“Wh-what? I was working. The mission was top secret and—”

“And you didn’t have the decency or the audacity to tell me you’d be away nearly three days in a row!?”

She stalks toward him and swings with her fist. Azriel blocks her blows and spars with her. “Gwyn, I didn’t have time, I’m sorry. It was dangerous”, he pants as she lands blow after blow as hard as she can.

“Gwyn! Can we please just talk!?”

“Talk!? Talk!? Oh, now you want to talk after ignoring me for three days? I’m your godsdamned mate! How dare you ignore me! How dare you leave me here alone!”, she screams hoarsely.