Hybern's Heiress (Shadowsinger Love Story)

Nine

Amren didn’t know what had gotten into her High Lord that he willingly made a risky bargain with the Hybern’s Heiress.

But whatever the cost, it was worth it.

Call it a hunch, or premonition, but after Rhysand made that bargain with Arwen, Azriel’s condition only worsened. Had Arwen not been there, they might as well lost Az again as the infection on his wound came back with such vengeance, as if rebelling against Arwen’s treatment. Azriel spent his days being in and out of consciousness. The Shadowsinger could barely keep his eyes open for a few seconds that Amren began to suspect that Az was actually brain dead.

The Second-In-Command of the Night Court received a slap on the back of her head from Mor for that remark.

“That is mean,” protested Arwen softly as she gently examined Az’s pupil movement under the light. A mild amused expression graced the plane of her face as she took a glance at Amren and Cass who had leaned in curiously to see Az. “You see how his eyes follow the light?” she said with a small smile, “He’s not brain dead.”

“That’s unfortunate,” mumbled Amren sarcastically, but her relief didn’t go unnoticed by Arwen, or Mor and Cassian whose chuckles rumbled deep in his chest.

“So when is he going to be able to start kicking ass again?”

“Kicking ass? Not anytime soon.”

“How about talking? He hasn’t talked to us for more than a week now. I think he does it in purpose.”

“He is in great need to rest, Cassian,” defended Arwen casually.

“You don’t know him like we do. He is a tough bastard,” chirped Mor, “I think I agree with Cassian. Az is probably pretending to be asleep everytime we are around.”

“I wonder why,” murmured Amren. Her sarcastic remark went unnoticed as Mor, like a kid, poked the bandage around Azriel’s chest and narrowed her eyes as if testing the unconscious Shadowsinger.

“Mor. Don’t do that,” frowned Arwen while an annoyed slash amused smile threatened to crack on her face.

The petite female grinned at the healer in response and proceeded to poke Azriel more enthusiastically, forcing Arwen to shield him from Mor with her hands. Mor giggled and shrugged. “Worth a try.”

Meanwhile, Cassian was waving a feather against Azriel’s face.

“Where do you even get that?!” Arwen quickly snatched the feather and folded her arms around her chest, frowning in distaste as she glared at him and Mor. “Stop it.”

Cassian lifted his hands in surrender and retreated with a shit eating grin etched on his face.

“Such children,” grumbled Amren, making Arwen break a smile, “Seems like we both are pretty much the adults around here.” With that Amren walked out of Azriel’s room, leaving Arwen smiling a little to herself.

“Are they gone?”

A soft male voice behind her made her turn. Arwen’s smile remained as she trained her eyes on the Shadowsinger.

“They are. You’re safe now.”

“Good. Thanks for stopping Mor and Cassian. I almost sneeze and undo all my stitches when Cass put the feather on my nose.”

The fact that Azriel said those words flatly with his pale, serious face, made Arwen took a second longer to realize that the Shadowsinger was actually making a joke. She chuckled, shaking her head at him.

“That is quite a dark joke, Azriel.”

Despite feeling somewhat cold, a warmth spread around his chest when he heard his name rolling off of her tongue. He cracked a smile at the beautiful high fae, wishing to drown in her azure blue eyes.