Chapter Sixteen

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Azriel

A stab of fear, then fury, shot down the bond, Azriel immediately standing up, head swimming with each emotion pulsing.

Mor blinked her bleary eyes, her golden hair matted from where it had been pressed against the couch. "What's wrong?"

Azriel clutched his head, the emotion that Velaria was experiencing rippling in waves. "Shit. Something's wrong."

Mor stood up, the blanket that was wrapped around her falling to the ground. "Do we need to go?"

As Azriel was going to answer, a stab of pain flashed, sending Azriel dropping to the floor on one knee.

Mor was there in an instant, placing a gentle hand on Azriel's back. "Tell me what's happening, Azriel."

Azriel shut his eyes. "Fear...anger...pain, physical pain," he hissed. "Something's happening. I don't know."

"I'm going to repeat it. Do we need to go?"

Azriel looked up. Mor's expression was set, ready for anything. She had two personalities that were so different and yet uniquely her. It was part of the reason why Azriel had liked her for so long. She could be both joking and ready to party, but she also took her job seriously. She was empathetic, and always knew how to help those she loved. She deserved so much better than him, as did Elain and Velaria. They deserved better than him.

Azriel winced. "My head's all over the place, Mor," he said, his voice cracking unexpectedly and fear spiking through him. Fear. Azriel couldn't remember the last time he was truly scared. "I'm not sure I can make this call."

"Can you do something for me?" Mor asked, helping Azriel off the floor with a steadying hand. Standing, she was a good foot shorter than him, but just as intimidating.

"Y–Yes, of course."

"Send one of your shadows to fetch Amren," Mor said. "And another to Feyre. We need all the help we can get."

Azriel nodded, conveying the order to two of his shadows quickly.

Mor watched him, scanning his face for emotion. Her gaze flicked to his hands, which were actively shaking. "Az, do you need to sit down?"

Azriel closed his eyes and nodded, moving on unsteady footing to an armchair. He sunk into the plush fabric, massaging his temples.

Footsteps rushed down the stairs, almost tripping. Azriel and Mor looked to see their High Lady, disheveled and blinking at the bright light of the common room.

"Can someone tell me why the fuck one of Azriel's shadows just woke me up?" Feyre growled, combing her hair with her fingers as she made her way towards them.

Mor looked to Azriel, who was silently overwhelmed by his own anxiety, and then looked to Feyre. "Azriel felt a spike of emotion down the bond," she said. "Fury, panic, physical pain. We think Velaria's in trouble."

Feyre stared at them. "So why are you not in the Spring Court."

Mor shrugged. "Logic?"

"That is not logic," Feyre hissed. "My mate is there. Cassian is there. My sister is there. Go get them."

Mor cleared her throat. "Is that an order, or emotion speaking?"

Feyre opened her mouth to speak, then stopped. She collapsed onto the couch next to more, sighing. "This is too hard for me to deal with. Thank the Mother we have you, Mor."

"It's what I'm here for."

One of Azriel's shadows was at his ear suddenly, whispering. "Rhys is here," Azriel notified the group.

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