A Court of Illusion and Pain

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

At first Azriel was confused, he couldn't fathom that this female in front of him—that she was... She was his—his mate. It seemed unreal. He had watched Rhysand and Feyre, their beautiful relationship, how it had blossomed and unraveled. He couldn't believe that his chance—his equal was right in front of him. No words formed in his thoughts, there was nothing he could think to say.

The female was more than he had ever expected to get, she was a natural beauty. Blonde hair cascaded down her slender frame, ending just under the small of her back. Her eyes were pools of midnight blue, a living, breathing thing. A fire burned in them with a hunger for adventure. He felt it too.

     He watched as she turned toward the woman next to her, he wished he could hear her voice, for he knew it would sound like vanilla—if ever such a thing were possible. One of her small hands tugged at her hair, pulling it behind her ear. With her neck exposed, Azriel could do nothing but stare at the delicate patch of skin. He wanted to run his tongue across it and make her moan—

     Rhys suddenly appeared in front of him, a large smirk across his face. Azriel glared at his friend and turned to leave before he could direct his eyes back on the female.

***

Feyre and Mor laughed hysterically as Rhys told them the story. Azriel's cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "You didn't even introduce yourself?" Feyre managed through her fit of laughter.

Azriel grumbled in response, taking a seat at the back of the living room. The river house was finally complete—Feyre and Ressina had done a beautiful job designing and decorating the manor. The warm blue duvet Azriel sat on was by far the comfiest, he thought as he nestled into the soft material.

     "He left before the meeting," Rhys explained, trying his hardest to compose himself. He ran an absent hand through his midnight hair and grabbed a bottle of wine off the table, bringing it to his lips.

     Azriel noticed the way Feyre and Rhys watched each other—how obvious it was they were speaking through their minds with the daemati gift they both possessed. He could only wish to have something like that some day.

     "Go talk to her," Feyre suggested casually, although he sensed the hidden conviction. It was almost a command. The High Lady of the night Court wanted him happy, all his friends did.

***

After a long day of surveillance, Azriel decided he'd fly back to the Illyrian camp, Windhaven—only to stall time. He wasn't sure if he was ready to see the female again, wasn't sure she'd even want to see him. Maybe she would be put off by the shadows.

The air was cold against his wings, they felt nearly numb by the time he had arrived. He landed gracefully by the training rings, the last place he had seen his mate—the only place he had seen her. He wasn't quite sure where to go, but he knew of someone he could ask.

The walk to Devlon's cabin was much too short. Azriel didn't particularly like the male—in fact, he found Devlon very disagreeable. The broad shouldered male stood outside, directing warriors about. His features were eternally shaped into a pout—not a very attractive male, Azriel thought.

     Devlon tensed as he saw Azriel approach. The former seemed to grow another inch as he erected his posture into perfection. His shoulders straightened, his fists clenched. Azriel gritted his teeth and then spoke with authority. "I need to find a girl..."

By the time the conversation ended, Azriel was on the verge of ripping every fingernail from Devlon's body. Oh how badly he wanted to cause the male pain. Devlon had purposefully acted clueless just to get a rise from the Shadow Singer. Azriel however, had managed to remain calm and polite. He was far too good at hiding his emotions. Had more than enough practice.

     The cabin at the bottom of the hill, just before the ravine. Those words played on repeat in Azriel's mind. He kept at a moderate pace, his feet moving one after the other. Still, he wasn't sure what he was going to say.

As he walked, he heard the voice. It was her. She was screaming somewhere in the distance, bellowing for help. Azriel bounded forward, his legs pumping quickly. Whatever was to happen, he knew one thing for sure—he would let no one hurt his mate.