Fire On Fire - Azriel's story - acotar

Chapter 7.

Today was the day. Fallon jumped out of bed, ready for the day trip.

Cassian and Azriel had left two days ago and would meet up with Fallon today at Windhaven, which gave her a few hours to herself before they'd arrive.

She gobbled down her breakfast, earning a side glance from Mor, but she didn't care. Today was the day she'd finally see Phoenix again. She flew south as soon as she was dressed in her Illyrian leather.

It didn't take long before she was soaring over the mountain peaks of the Illyrian mountains, nearing her Camp.

Fallon tried to let go of the endless worries forming in her brain but she couldn't help wondering if things had changed since she'd left. Would they even notice her arrival? Maybe it'd be better if they didn't.

The Camp slowly started to form and Fallon was hit with a mix of homesickness and dread. Hoping she'd managed to slip in unnoticed, which was highly unlikely considering the way the Camp was protected, she landed near her former tent, praying Phoenix would be around somewhere. But before she could even look for him, trouble crossed her path.

"Well, well, well," Mhark drawled, "who do we have here."

Mhark, a peer, but also the one who'd always told on the other boys if they'd done something wrong at practice and the trainer hadn't noticed. He still looked the same as he had as a young boy, with his hair buzzed and his lip always busted.

His tone and the predatory look in his eyes made Fallon's blood freeze. She only nodded and tried to walk past him.

But he caught her arm just as the wind blew over the reef. She watched Mhark's eyes widen and then take on the completely opposite look - disgust. In a mere second she'd gone from being one of his fellow warrior to his enemy. Although, she wasn't entirely sure she'd ever been his equal in any way, soldier or not.

Fallon realised her mistake a second too late. Her ears. Fallon cursed at herself. How could she have forgotten? She'd let herself live in comfort and safety of Velaris that her defences'd been lowered. And now her mistake could cost her her life.

Fallon's heart began beating agains her chest so hard it hurt as Mhark's grip tightened and his siphons gleamed as he dragged to the centre of the Camp.

"Commander," Mhark's tone was laced with cunning and hatred.

Fallon had lived with them for all those years, fighting against control of the Fae. Their Camp had been attacked quite a few times by Fae who'd wanted to use them. And Fallon'd fought against them every single time.

And now they would realise she was part Fae. She was part what they despised. And she couldn't even form a word, she couldn't shake Mhark's bone-crushing grip.

The man Mhark had called Commander turned to face them.

Fallon's eyes widened. It was the Second in Command of her former Commander. Why had Mhark called him that? What'd happened in the weeks she'd been gone? She could barely control the panic threatening to drown her. Since when did the mountain range become airless?

"Came to show off or have you already been thrown out?" the Second smirked at Fallon as a larger crowd started to gather.

She tried to form words as her throat was closed up, but she didn't even have to try because Mhark's elbow struck her ribs, taking her already breathless breath away.

"There's more," Mhark said viciously and the Illyrians came closer. In her blurred vision Fallon could see Phoenix in the crowd. His eyes were wide in surprise and his mouth slightly agape. He was staring at her, and even though she saw his legs move, it was as if he were glued to the spot. Dread spread all over her body. Would Phoenix not even try to help her?