Song of Shadows

Chapter Seven

Azriel

We gather in the foyer of the townhouse, waiting for Rhys. Cassian and I spent the early hours of the morning polishing our Siphons and armor until they gleamed. Feyre stands at the bottom of the stairs, pacing, her dress and grown regal and beautiful.

"What?" she snaps at Cassian.

The corners of his mouth twitch. "You just look so..."

Mor and I both roll our eyes. The shadows move around my face, scouting the Dawn Court palace for any traps, any hidden enemies. "Here we go," Mor mutters.

My eyes drink in Morrigan. Her usual red dress is replaced with one of the deepest blue. A ring decorates every finger, bracelets clack together on her wrist. She looks breathtaking.

"Official. Fancy." Cassian finishes.

Mor rolls her eyes and shakes her head in disgust. "Over five hundred years old, a skilled warrior and general, famous throughout territories, and complimenting ladies is still something he finds next to impossible. Remind me why we bring you on diplomatic meetings?"

I can't help the chuckle that escapes my lips. Cassian shoots me a hurt look. "I don't see you spouting poetry, brother."

I cross my arms and lift a brow. "That's because I don't need to resort to it."

The shadows dim as Mor laughs. Cassian and Feyre exchange mischievous grins. Rhys comes down the stairs, and the smoldering intensity in his gaze has us all looking away. This is the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court.

A sharp voice cuts through the silence. "I thought you were leaving."

All of our eyes turn to the stairs as Nesta slowly walks down them. Her sapphire blue dress and lack of adornment only emphasize her devastating beauty. Cassian's eyes burn as they behold her, but he quickly looks away when Mor cuts a glare to the eldest Archeon sister.

Nesta stops before Rhys and Feyre and gives her sister a quick look. "You look beautiful."

"That, Cassian, is what you were trying to say." My brother only shrugs at Mor and turns to me. Nesta's gaze lingers on the general, but she keeps her mouth closed.

Feyre speaks to Nesta, but my attention is drawn to Elain who appears at the top of the stairs. Her eyes sparkle as she approaches the group. Her brown hair sweeps off of her neck into a fancy braid, woven with flowers. Her gown is the softest pink, offsetting her brown eyes.

I cannot draw my eyes away from her as she steps into the foyer, and her own eyes meet mine, banishing the lingering shadows. I take an involuntary step forward, and Cassian winks at me.

Nesta intercepts Elain, halting her from approaching me. Mor turns her gaze to me, and my heart skips a beat. I shake my head to clear the raging thoughts and focus on Rhys.

He gives me a subtle nod and I winnow to the Dawn Court. The sky glows with the oranges and pinks of a vivid dawn, and the palace absorbs the warmth, bathing the stone in orange light. My appearance is greeted by one of Thesan's attendants. After several moments, I give Rhys the all clear.

The rest of my family appears on the landing almost an instant later. Nesta and Cassian hold hands, Mor's face unreadable. Elain shoots me a beaming look as she appears with Rhys and Feyre. I offer her my arm and follow the High Lord into the palace. Her warmth radiates through me as her fingers stroke the scars on my hands.

As we approach the chamber where the others await us, I feel shields form around our entire party. Elain presses closer to me. We enter a large, circular chamber with a large pool in the center. Kallias, Hellion, and Thesan stand in the center talking, but they fall silent as we approach. Everyone but Feyre and Rhysand bow to the High Lord of the Dawn Court.

Pleasantries are exchanged, and I can't help but chuckle when Mor and her friend, Viviane of the Winter Court, begin chattering endlessly together. I escort Elain to chairs on the far side of the pool. Hellion stares unabashedly at Nesta, and I hear their conversation.

"Who Made her?" Hellion asks.

"Hybern did, when he threw me and my other sister into the Cauldron," Nesta answers, her voice even and cold. Elain tenses beside me.

"Why would he do this?" Kallias interjects.

"They did this after Tamlin and his priestess Ianthe sold them out to Hybern."

"That's a heavy accusation," Hellion says.

"It is no accusation. We were all there, and now we are going to do something about it." Feyre beckons to Nesta and joins us in the seats without another word to the High Lords.

An hour later, an attendant announces Summer's arrival. Once the High Lord and his retinue seat themselves, firmly ignoring us, another attendant announces the arrival of Beron and all of his sons.

I don't miss Mor's face draining of color, and she recoils as the High Lord of Autumn enters along with Eris and the rest of his brothers. I focus on the eldest son and glower at him.

Everyone takes their seats, and Thesan waves his hand to my High Lord. "Rhysand, you have called this meeting. Pushed us to gather sooner than we intended. Now would be the time to explain what is so urgent."

Rhys blinks slowly at the Thesan.

"Surely the invading armies landing on our shores explains enough."

Beron snorts, and my family glares at him. Hellion waves off the sound and braces his arms on his thighs. "So you have called us to do what, exactly? Raise a unified army?"

Rhys nods, glancing at Feyre. "That, among other things. We--"

A crack of thunder echoes through the chamber, cutting off Rhysand's words. Elain flinches into me as I put my hand on the hilt of Truth-Teller. Cassian raises an arm in front of Nesta, and Rhys and Feyre go completely still.

His green eyes hone in on my High Lady, his smile wolfish and hungry. Elain whimpers as Tamlin strolls in and stops in the middle of the chamber. I place my hand over hers and tendrils of shadow wrap around her.

Our eyes meet for a heartbeat and her face brightens slightly.