A Court of Dreams and Promise

Chapter Twenty-Five

Velaria

Velaria strapped a sheath to her chest and a holder for a dagger to her leg. With Rhysand's cronies and Keir's Darkbringers on the prowl, looking for them, it could never hurt to be cautious.

She was about to exit the room, Feyre's room (where she had found clothes that actually fit her), when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and frowned at her hair.

Velaria didn't remember putting it up, and when she yanked it out of its holder found a scrap piece of leather that faintly smelled of her mate. She didn't recognize it at first until she noticed it was the same color as the wrappings of Azriel's bandages. He had put her hair up. A pang of gratitude flashed through her.

Velaria left the room and was about to walk down the stairs when she bumped into someone. She grunted, stumbling backwards.

"Ack! So sorry, Vel," Mor said quickly, reaching out to steady her. "Are you okay?"

Velaria shook her head and smiled. "No harm, no foul. I'm perfectly fine," she said. "I just wasn't watching where I was going."

"You're alright," Mor chirped. Then she stopped, her gaze running over Velaria. "You're going out with Feyre, then. I thought it was Feyre and Azriel."

"With Feyre's powers not yet completely returned and Azriel being easily recognizable, I'm the best option," Velaria said. "Plus, I don't have giant wings that stick out, and my powers don't require big, glowing syphons to work." Velaria rolled her eyes at the last part.

"Makes sense." Mor brushed a strand of golden hair behind her ear. "Emerie and I will be here with Azriel while you go out, then. Shout down the mating bond or straight into my head if you need anything."

"Thanks, Mor." Velaria patted Mor's shoulder and winnowed into the foyer, where she could sense both Feyre and Azriel's presences.

Azriel raised an eyebrow. "You could have just walked down the stairs," he said, crossing his arms. However, the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

"I love the theatrics, though."

Azriel chuckled, closing the distance between them. "My dramatic mate," he said, his voice low. He cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Be safe out there."

"I will." Velaria turned to Feyre. "Are you ready?"

Feyre smiled softly, nodding. "Let's go." She opened the door and gestured for Velaria to follow her.

Velaria grinned at her mate one last time before shutting the door.

They walked down the dirt path leading from Velaria's house to the main street in silence, Velaria's shadows already hidden and scouting for anything of importance.

"Did you get a chance to talk with him after breakfast?" Feyre asked after a moment.

Velaria shook her head. "I got changed. I didn't see him until a couple of minutes ago."

Feyre frowned. "He disappeared shortly after you left, so I figured he was going to you," she said. "Interesting."

Their walk continued in silence after that until they reached the restaurant Emerie had said was a popular meeting spot for the Illyrian warriors to hang out when they were off duty. If anyone knew anything, she had said, it would be them.

"How well can you shift?" Velaria asked, scanning the restaurant doors and windows for any onlookers.

"I can shift parts about myself," Feyre said, "but I've never truly tried shifting into something completely different."