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The wind blew softly between the trees, and the leaves clattered against each other in a soft applause. It made the Spymaster’s teeth ache. 

Normally, Azriel took these meetings with Autumn seriously but usually took them alone. Today, Rhys had insisted on attending with him, and Azriel was afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep his cool. When Eris insulted Azriel, he could handle it, even if it was something that had taken him a long time to master. It was when the brat insulted his family that he took issue. What didn’t help was that he was already irritated with his brother and couldn’t show that to Eris. 

As Spymaster to the Night Court, there should have been no secrets between him and his High Lord. At the very least, Rhys should have kept nothing from Azriel that was urgent for Eris to know. If he were honest with himself, that’s what it boiled down to. As a result, he had spent the entirety of the meeting so tense that his muscles had nearly locked several times over the hour he had spent here.

He tried to distract himself by listing reasons that Rhys might have needed to meet with Eris face to face but was coming up frustratingly dry. Koschei had been silent for nearly five years, and the incident with the crown had been the last time anyone had heard from the death god. As usual, Eris continued to drag his feet with his father. Whatever the male was waiting on, Rhys didn’t seem overly concerned. Azriel knew he was eager to uphold his end of the deal they had struck but had not ordered Azriel to pressure Eris to make a move. Whatever Rhys had to tell Eris, it must have been personal.  

There was no way for Azriel to know for sure, but he suspected it had something to do with him. He saw how Eris would occasionally lock eyes with him, that cunning amber stare meeting with his dull hazel from across the clearing. The Prince of Autumn didn’t seem pleased to hear Rhys’ message, but Rhys didn’t seem particularly pleased himself. 

A hazard of the family he was born into, Eris kept things very close to the chest. If you hadn’t spent much time observing the male, his tells would go unnoticed. Azriel could spot them easily. 

His jaw fluttered as he clenched his teeth, and the slightly spiced scent on the wind spoke of his current irritation. Eris’ masks were good, but he had to be if he wanted to remain alive under his father’s rule. However, he wasn’t as slick as he thought he was. At least Azriel felt like he could see straight through the male. It made it easy to let insults roll off his shoulders when they were alone. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to have that ability where his family was concerned. 

It wasn’t hard to see what Eris was doing when he baited the Shadowsinger. The male created distractions as a means of deflection. Azriel’s problem was that it never seemed to matter.  When his family was being insulted, the blood in his veins heated, making Azriel want to strangle the male. Sometimes, all it took was a smirk at the wrong time, and Azriel’s heart would race, causing him to react without thinking.

Finally, Rhys was finished with his conversation. 

“Well,” He started, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing them over his chest. 

Eris broke eye contact with Azriel to stare down the High Lord instead. 

“Is that all?” He asked, tapping his finger against his forearm.

“Did you need more?” Rhys asked him cooly, a hint of a smirk on his lips. 

Eris stopped tapping his finger, and his eyes sharpened. “No.” He nearly spit the word through his teeth, making Azriel’s hackles rise. 

Of course, Eris noticed and let his attention slide back to Azriel. He raised an amused brow, and Azriel braced himself for the worst. Eris opened his mouth to say something when Rhys cut him off. 

“Then I’m leaving. I trust anything else you have to say; you can … relay it to my Spymaster?” He winked at Eris, who had paled slightly. 

“You cannot mean now.” Rage rolled off Eris in waves as he whispered the words like a threat.  The leaves around them swirled up from the forest floor, and Azriel’s hand moved atop Truth Teller’s hilt, ready to defend his High Lord if necessary. The air popped in his ears from the pressure swelling around them. It occurred to Azriel then that he had never seen Eris unleash his magic in full force. He wondered just how powerful the male was to be able to affect the forest around them in such a way.  

Rhys only shrugged. “Can’t I?” He challenged. 

Azriel glanced between the two males and opened his mouth to ask what the hell was going on. His mouth snapped shut when he met eyes with Rhys. A strange look passed over his brother’s face that was difficult to decipher; he turned to leave. Azriel made to follow him, his questions going unasked when Eris opened his stunningly stupid mouth. 

“Yes, run back to your mate Rhysand. I’m sure she will be happy to see you. Do me a favor and ask her to hold your leash tighter next time. Her control over you is somewhat lacking of late.” 

Though Rhys only chuckled at the insult, Azriel reacted before knowing what he was doing. He had melted into his shadows and reappeared before Eris in less time than it took to blink. 

Shadows dripped from him like ink as he emerged, stalking straight for the Autumn prick, his wing slicing through the air like a blade. Eris dodged it just in time, blocking the swipe from Azriel’s other wing. The male stumbled as Azriel’s assault forced him back against the trunk of one of the surrounding oak trees. A snarl ripped from Eris’ throat as he grasped hold of the wing aiming for him just beneath its shining talon, stopping it a hair’s width away from his throat. Fire was hot in the Prince’s eyes and simmering along his shoulders, but oddly, his hands were cool where they held tightly to Azriel’s wing.

“Watch your mouth.” Azriel’s growled, stepping closer. The talon brushed against the pale flesh of Eris’ throat, and Azriel watched as the male took shallow breaths to avoid pressing it in any further. 

“Everything will turn out just fine, will it?” Eris called over Azriel’s shoulder to Rhys, who stood at the edge of the clearing. He swallowed against the sensation of Eris’ voice vibrating along his talon and down the bones of his wing. He was too busy trying to suppress a shudder to care about what he was saying. 

“I guess that’s up to you, isn’t it?” Rhys replied simply. “Azriel, please don’t kill him. I assure you that that would be more of a headache than listening to him talk.” 

“You never did learn how to keep your mouth shut.” Azriel hissed, stepping closer to Eris. He felt the hand on his wing squeeze harder but did not flinch at the touch. As much as it annoyed him to have someone touch his wings without permission, he wasn’t fussy about it in the heat of his anger.

“I just wanted to see if you were paying attention.” Eris kept his voice low to keep his throat from inviting the kiss of the talon. It was infuriating that he could still command such authority even from a near whisper. “You seemed… distracted.” It made Azriel feel like the lowly brute he knew Eris thought he was. 

“And you take issue with this?” Azriel let his voice fall into a dangerous tone as he pressed forward ever so slightly. A bead of blood welled just under the tip of his talon. It stood out brightly against Eris’ white throat. Azriel had the absurd urge to lick it clean. “Considering that I was not invited into the conversation between the two of you, I’m not sure I understand why you would.” 

“I had no idea that the great Spymaster of the Night Court gained his information so superficially.” As he spoke, Eris pressed up into the talon and Azriel watched as the drop of blood welled up until it began to drip down.    

“Oh?” Finally, Azriel had a chance to be smug. When the blood disappeared down the front of the male’s tunic, Azriel glanced back up into Eris’ molten eyes and smiled. “Please teach me, Vanserra, what other methods should I employ as Spymaster? Tracking the way your heart rate sped up the moment Rhys began speaking to you? Maybe how your breathing hitched halfway through when your attention turned to me? Perhaps I should have paid closer attention to the way your forehead beaded with sweat toward the end, of the tapping of your nail against your -” 

“Alright.” Eris hissed. “Enough.” 

Azriel stepped forward, bringing him toe to toe with the other male. “I may not know what he said to you, prick, but I know what it did to you, how it made you feel. Annoyed, angry… scared. Is that more thorough?” He was hovering above Eris now, their faces only a few inches apart, and Azriel could see every truth written on that face. If he pressed a little more, Azriel felt like he could take anything from Eris he wanted. All the male’s secrets, right here at the surface.

“Yes.” Through clenched teeth, Eris ground out the word, and Azriel felt his body sway closer to soak in the sound. 

“Thanks for the lesson,” Azriel smirked and went to pull away. Before he could, Eris ran a finger down the place on Azriel’s wing that he had been holding, trying to gain back the upper hand. 

Eris narrowed his eyes when Azriel only stared at him in response, an amused eyebrow raised. “I thought these things were supposed to be sensitive. That High Lady of yours sure seems to think your wings are dreadfully sensitive, isn’t that right, Rhysand?” 

Azriel growled in warning. “Watch your mouth.” He said slowly. 

Now that Azriel was back to being defensive, the Autumn heir just relaxed further, like keeping Azriel angry was more comfortable for him. 

“It’s fine, Azriel,” Rhys said dryly. He straightened the cuffs of his sleeves and picked a piece of lint off his shoulder, nose wrinkling slightly. “Besides, they aren’t that sensitive.” He said a bit defensively. The petulance in his tone made him sound like the prince he used to be when they were all still boys. 

Azriel snorted against his better judgment and the corner of his mouth kicked up in a barely there smile. 

Eris raised a manicured brow. “Something funny?” 

“You have the wings of a newborn Rhys,” Azriel said. His eyes didn’t leave Eris’ face. “You rarely have them out, so they can afford to be.” He knew he shouldn’t be acting like this in front of someone like Eris, but after spending all this time so tense, it felt too good to relax a little. 

Rhys scoffed, and Azriel turned slightly toward him and winked. 

“So, because you cannot squirrel away your wings like-” Eris began but was quickly interrupted by the fussy High Lord. 

“I do not squirrel them away,” Rhys complained as his magic crackled threateningly in the clearing. “Did you put him up to this?” 

Without meaning to, Azriel let out a bark of laughter as he remembered the way he and Cassian had teased their brother about his wings just this morning. Cassian had used that exact phrasing, almost making Azriel feel bad for Rhys… almost. If it weren’t for the secrets he was keeping, he might have felt a little worse for doing this in front of Eris of all people. 

At the look his brother gave him, Azriel cleared his throat of laughter and offered Rhys an apologetic look. The lordling, still slightly under the threat of Azriel’s talon, had seemed to grow uncomfortable during the playful exchange, but when Azriel turned to him with a more familiar stony gaze, Eris’ body relaxed. Of course, he only knew what to do with Azriel when they were at one another’s throats. 

The brat doubled down, scratching a nail along the membrane. Azriel didn’t react at all.

“Since they are always out, they are just used to touch, is that it?” He smirked, and Azriel reigned in a roll of his eyes. 

“No. Goodbye Eris.” He said flatly, releasing the male. He turned and walked toward Rhys who was standing at the edge of the clearing with his arms crossed. Azriel winked at him and smirked when the High Lord’s scowl deepened—s uch a baby. 

“And the information I might have to relay?” Eris asked from Azriel’s back. 

The Spymaster paused momentarily, looking to his High Lord. 

“It’s up to you,” Rhys said quietly, though Azriel knew Eris would have heard it still. Azriel could tell that Rhys was nervous about the direction of the conversation and wanted to give Azriel an out, which he appreciated. The Shadowsinger had already lost his cool more than once in this short time, and in Rhys’ eyes, his stiffness surrounding the topic of his wings could easily be misconstrued as anger. It wasn’t wrong for Rhys to think that, but it made Azriel uncomfortable. Eris already thought he was some mindless beast that couldn’t control himself, and he didn’t need that from his brother, too. 

The most absurd part was that Azriel was trying to protect Rhys, not himself. He wasn’t angry but knew if this conversation continued, the answers he was willing to give would hurt Rhys to hear. 

So, he subtly shook his head, and Rhys nodded in understanding. “Alright, come on. We will set up another time for the two of you to talk.” 

“Rhysand.” Eris hissed. 

“Another time, Eris.” Rhys waved a hand in dismissal and faded away into star-flecked night. 

The shadows pooled at Azriel’s feet when he compelled them toward him, but they seemed to hesitate to take him away from the clearing. As they took their time rising up his legs and wrapping around the rest of him, Azriel sighed and turned around to face Eris. He spread his wings out as the shadows continued to envelop him, and just before he disappeared, he locked eyes with Eris and said to him, “There’s too much scar tissue. I can’t feel most touch.” 

He might have laughed at Eris’ shocked look if it hadn’t flashed in anger a moment later. Azriel was back home at the Night Court before fully processing the emotions he had seen on the other male’s face. Maybe it had just been a trick of the light. Eris had no reason to be angry at his simple confession. It was a silly thought.

Eris watched Rhysand and Azriel leave in a cloud of shadow, the taste of the High Lord’s magic like a sickness on the back of his tongue. The memory of that pompous male inside his head made Eris shiver. He felt greasy and used. It was time for a long, hot bath. 

Still, he couldn’t help but stare at the spot where the Shadowsinger had disappeared for a long time. 

Scar tissue. 

It was like a hot stone had been dropped in his stomach. The male was a warrior, bred and trained for battle, at his High Lord’s beck and call since he was very young. It should not have come as a surprise. He imagined that their General’s wings were much the same. There was no reason for him to care.  

Eris returned from his wandering thoughts when the sun began to dip too low, and the cooler air blew through the trees. It didn’t matter. None of it did. Rhysand’s entire inner circle could barely stomach him. The Shadowsinger, especially, still hated him. 

Eris frowned, his hand touching the spot on his neck that the male’s talon had been pressed against. It wasn’t like he was trying to be friends with any of them, but it would be nice if he hadn’t been threatened every time they were around one another.  

No matter how much time passed, that was how it would always be, even if Rhysand seemed to have a different opinion. 

Some poor creature screamed in the far-off distance, taken down by one of the beasts emerging as night started to fall. Eris’ bright yellow eyes scanned the trees, still halfway in his head. He wasn’t going to solve anything by standing there alone, brooding, so, with a sigh, the Prince smoothed out his vest and ran his fingers through his hair before winnowing away. 

It was true. The sensitivity in Azriel’s wings had all but disappeared over the last few centuries.  So he was having a hard time figuring out why the pressure of Eris’ hand on them had burned like a brand. Three weeks had passed since that day, and he had largely put it out of his mind, except at night when the world was quiet. 

Between flight lessons with his nephew and his regular work, thinking about the Autumn Court brat was as low priority as it had always been. He just wished someone would tell his subconscious mind this. Nearly every night for the past three weeks, Azriel would see the male in his dreams. It was so subtle at first that he could dismiss it easily. If he didn’t see him standing off in the distance, that red hair waving in the breeze like a banner, he would catch his scent on the wind or feel the pressure of that touch on his wing. That was what usually pulled him out of sleep. 

For far too many nights in a row, Azriel would find himself jolted from the dream world, his brow cold from sweat. Each time, it was in the early morning hours, long before he had reason to rise, with all his warmth pooling too low in his stomach. 

The occasional desire to strangle Eris was as natural as breathing, but to dream of him this frequently was something else. Not in all the years that the other male had been antagonizing his family had he had this kind of reaction. He told himself that times had been too peaceful, his mind too bored. As the weeks wore on and the dreams started to change, he wished he could believe it. 

Rhysand had scheduled another meeting with Eris for Azriel that night. It made his skin feel tight in a way that he didn’t want to try and explain. Possibly, it was just nerves after the last meeting. He had given Eris sensitive information about himself, and Azriel may not have a general trust in the male. Still, he trusted Eris to exploit any weaknesses that fell into his lap. 

Not that it mattered much. Azriel’s hardened wings were not a sore spot for him. Perhaps they would have been a few centuries ago, but ultimately, he was glad they couldn’t be used against him in that way. Azriel had never permitted any lovers he had taken over the years to touch them anyway, though if it were a mate, someone he loved… 

Azriel let his thoughts trail off as he peeled himself away from his sweat-sticky sheets and padded to the bathroom. The House of Wind was quiet that night. 

Nesta and Cassian lived full-time in Illyria and hadn’t been by for a visit in a while, so Azriel had it more or less to himself. Occasionally, Gwyn would spend time there, but he rarely ran into her. She claimed that she visited the House occasionally at Nesta's behest, which Azriel had partially believed. It was why he moved back in full time after all. 

His friend feared the House would get lonely now that she wasn’t living there, and Azriel had to agree reluctantly. At first, he thought it was ridiculous, but shortly after moving in, the House began pestering him. At first, it was barely noticeable, with a new book on his bedside table or a steaming cup of tea waiting for him in the dining room after a predawn flight to fight off the chill of the early morning air. As Azriel got used to the attention, the House quickly became more of a nuisance. Before he knew it, Azriel was fending off slices of chocolate cake after a particularly hard day down in the dungeons and more run-ins with Gwyn than he would have liked. 

It was like he was always being watched, and as a Spymaster, he hated it. It irritated him to the point that when the House had started dropping things next to him while he was soaking in the bath, Azriel had finally snapped with a few, not so polite words. 

Of course, he had felt terrible about it almost immediately. When he returned to his room, the fire had returned to embers, and the air felt too still. Even Azriel’s shadows had seemed to chastise him for his outburst. It took a lot of coaxing and a little help from Gwyn, but he managed to apologize appropriately to the House. As soon as they were on good terms again, boundaries were set, and for the most part, the House seemed to stick to them. 

Even so, Azriel tried to spend as little time there as possible. Which also helped him from running into Gwyn as much as before. They were friends, and it wasn’t like he didn’t want to spend time with her, but there was an expectation. 

When Azriel moved back in, he suspected Nesta had been trying to set them up. The close proximity was just too convenient. A part of him had wanted it to work. Gwyn was gorgeous and kind, not to mention strong and driven. She was so much fun to talk to, and they got along well, but Azriel couldn’t find a way past their friendship to try for something more. It didn’t feel right, and he hated that he didn't know why. Other than something seriously wrong with him, there was no reason it shouldn’t have worked. 

So Azriel kept himself busy elsewhere and, damn him, but he was almost looking forward to his meeting with Eris that evening for that reason. Normally, he would have had more time to prepare for these meetings, knowing how easily Eris could rile up his anger. The two days Rhys had given him hadn’t been nearly enough, but it didn’t seem to matter right now. After this last dream, his bones vibrated with anticipation, so he had his shadows take him straight to IIllyria as soon as the sun began to peek over the tops of the mountains. 

He found Cassian already making his rounds, for which Azriel was thankful. It never took much convincing for his brother to abandon his chores and train with Azriel instead. Even after three hours of swordplay, too much energy was coursing through the Shadowsinger. While it did help, it still wasn’t enough. Cassian had offered to put him to work there, which Azriel should have considered. The refusal fell from his lips quickly, considering how natural it was for him to avoid Illyria at all costs. He was usually more of a hindrance there, anyway. Azriel’s temper was even shorter there than it was with Eris. 

The day proved too long, and Azriel seriously considered asking Rhys for a long-term assignment soon to fill his time. It had never occurred to him that he had so little work to anchor him throughout his days. By the time he was scheduled to meet Eris, it had felt like Azriel had to make up things to do just to stay busy. 

Now that it was finally time to go, however, Azriel hesitated. Instead of letting his shadows carry him there, he insisted on flying, much to their displeasure. Every few minutes, the shadows would buzz around him like insects and try to pull him through the void between worlds. They wanted him to hurry, but he ignored their urging and tried to clear his head. 

Thanks to the shadows, Azriel landed quietly despite his size. When he finally touched down, they had become such an incredible nuisance that he dismissed them entirely. Azriel watched them scatter into the surrounding shadows cast by the trees before he let his eyes land on Eris. The Autumn heir seemed so lost in thought that he overlooked Azriel.

The Shadowsinger took a cautious but intentional step toward the other male. He shuffled his feet noisily in the dirt to make his presence known, and Eris snapped his head toward Azriel. However, instead of meeting his stare, the heir’s eye went straight to Azriel’s wings. They flexed and trembled behind him, exhausted from the flight. He knew he had pushed himself too fast and too far, but it was the easiest way to clear his head. Right now, it felt like Azriel needed a clear head more than anything.

Now that he was on the ground, the Shadowsinger could appreciate what a terrible idea it had been to fly all the way here. His body was covered in sweat, muscles twitching and cramping in his back and chest, and he was having difficulty evening out his breath. Every thought that he had worked so hard to outfly came crashing back into him at the sight of Eris narrowing his eyes, assessing him. It left him feeling exposed and unsteady.  

Azriel was so unsteady that he began speaking before Eris. If he were fully himself, he would have stared back until the Autumn male made the first move. In the back of his mind, Azriel knew it wasn’t a good sign but couldn’t shut up as he relayed everything his High Lord had asked him to. Eris only stared at him as he talked, and Azriel became increasingly irritated by his lack of response. He was like a statue for all he moved. 

Very little that Azriel had to say was groundbreaking, maybe none of it at all, but he still expected Eris to interrupt him at least once as he rambled. Over the years, Azriel had become accustomed to the way Eris processed a conversation. Sometimes, he wondered if the Autumn male got just as much, if not more, out of the subtle nuances of a conversation than Azriel did as Spymaster. 

A calculating stare was ever present on his infuriatingly pretty face while he listened to someone speak, but he was also a master at driving the conversation where he wanted it to go. Little jabs that always got under Azriel’s skin, quips and terse objections that would litter every conversation until Azriel was left needing to strangle him once again. 

Just not today, for whatever reason. Azriel left pauses where he thought Eris would want to interject or outright argue, only to be left alone in silence. No, today, the male only stared as if he wasn’t even… 

“Are you even listening?” Azriel growled, stepping close enough that the shadows under his wings felt comfortable enough to reach out. They stretched toward the strands of burnished hair floating in the light breeze toward Azriel. Both males watched, in a trance, as the inky fingers of shadow sought out the feel of that silken hair. Before they could brush against their mark, Azriel snapped out of it and tugged them hastily back. Eris’ breath hitched. It was a slight movement, unnoticeable by most but not by Azriel. His own heart stumbled in answer to the quick slight. 

As he always did, the Prince of Autumn recovered quickly. He stepped back and straightened his spine as his hands smoothed down the front of his clothes, the courtier returning. Or so Azriel thought. 

Slowly, his amber eyes drifted over Azriel’s frame from the tips of his talons to the press of his boots digging into the organic detritus below them. He decided to speak only when his eyes drifted back up to Azriel’s wings.

 “Do you just not feel them at all?” 

Azriel blinked. “What?” 

“Your wings, you dolt, your wings.” Eris waved a frustrated hand toward them as if he didn’t want to talk about them and wasn’t the one who brought them up. “Do you not feel them at all, or is there some sense of awareness there?” 

Azriel went from confusion to annoyance to amusement faster than his pattering heart could keep up. He swallowed the laugh that bubbled up in his throat and coughed into his hand instead. 

“Of course, I feel them,” He said with a derisive lilt, almost teasing. 

“So, when you said…” It could have just been the gentle evening light around them, but Eris’ features seemed to soften, giving him an almost childlike look of curiosity.

“The sensation in them is just dull, not entirely numb.” Azriel offered. The change in Eris’ demeanor was almost too much for Azriel to handle. He was somehow off-kilter, not the stuck-up prick that Azriel was so used to. 

The sight made him nearly giddy that, for once, Eris was the one left more vulnerable, not Azriel. He was nearly always left hanging on the edge of a cliff by the tips of his fingers when Eris would purposefully incite his anger.

Now, the tables were turned, and Azriel desperately wanted to take full advantage. That should have been a warning to him, but exhaustion began calling the shots after pushing his body so hard. Later, he would berate himself for acting so rashly. 

Lack of sleep dulled his ability to reason with himself, and the memories of his dreams were able to push through to the surface. After years of relative peace between Eris and the Night Court, the hatred between them had dimmed just enough that something else now seemed to grapple for attention. The Spymaster should have seen it coming but had been too busy holding on to that hate to notice. 

“Actually,” He started, stepping close to the hier. “There is one spot left.” In the back of his mind, Azriel registered that his voice was too low. It was weighted with expectations that had names in languages Azriel had yet to master. A wild wind blew through the clearing as Azriel placed a talon under the male’s chin and lifted it so they were eye to eye. His brandy-colored hair whipped around them, tangling in Azriel’s lashes. 

“What do you mean?” Eris asked, swallowing shallowly as the edge of that talon crept down to the hollow of his throat. The dreams Azriel had tried so hard to suppress fumbled around in his brain as he tried to shove them away with little success. Hazel eyes tracked the bob of Eris’ throat as Azriel waited for his nerves to even out enough to answer. 

He fought the urge to clear his throat and said as evenly as possible, “One spot that isn’t just scar tissue, that still … feels.” The tail of his sentence was purr. Azriel was losing control. Eris had that effect on him, and he always had. 

Before, his lack of control always ended in angry outbursts. A tight coil of heat would throb in his head until he snapped. Now, that coil could be found much lower, and Azriel prayed to the Mother that it held. He wasn’t sure what he might do if this one snapped. 

“Go ahead, see for yourself.” He added without thinking. 

The wind had stopped, and Azriel stared at Eris, refusing to back down from those predatory eyes. To move would mean he lost whatever game they had started playing. Perhaps they had always played a sort of game with one another, but only now had the rules drastically changed. Licks of flame burned in the core of Eris’ eyes just before he reached out toward Azriel’s wing with a slender finger. Azriel swore the male’s mouth quirked up in a smile, but it was gone before he could be sure. 

Clean, sharp, and shaped to perfection, Eris trailed the nail of his index finger along the membrane just under the bone of his talon. There was a beat where nothing happened, and the pair simply stared one another down. With a smirk, Azriel stepped back and pulled his wings safely behind his back again. 

“Not it.” He teased, taking another step back. Eris took a step forward as if he might want to try again. 

“What?” Eris sneered, taking careful steps toward Azriel for each one the Shadowsinger retreated. “Scared, I’ll find it?” 

Azriel only chuckled lightly to himself, letting his shadows guide him back quicker until he was halfway across the clearing from where Eris stood. The prince crossed his arms delicately over his chest and raised an annoyed brow as he seemed to remember himself. 

“Well, if that’s all.” He turned to leave. 

“You’re the one that asked for this meeting,” Azriel called after him. Some part of him wasn’t ready for Eris to leave, though he refused to examine why. “Yet all you’ve done is listen to me talk.” 

Eris turned on his heel, his hair fanning out around him in an elegant arc.

“I most certainly did n-” A flash of clarity darkened Eris’ eyes, and he let the rest of his sentence trail off, grumbling to himself. Azriel caught the words Rhysand and pest before Eris winnowed away, leaving Azriel alone in the clearing, confused and a little irritated. 

“What the hell was that about?” He asked the empty space around him, receiving an answer only from his shadows, who seemed just as confused as he was. They danced nervously over his arms, humming across his skin. 

Azriel watched as a ballet of leaves twirled up in the air where Eris had disappeared. He couldn’t look away until they had settled back into their bed of moss on the forest floor. Azriel’s head started to clear at that, and his cheeks heated with embarrassment. A string of curses came falling out of his mouth as he cursed himself for being ridiculous. It was too hopeful to think Eris would pretend this never happened. Whatever game Azriel had begun was going to blow up in his face. Even so, as the shadows swarmed, a kernel of excitement sparked to life inside him at the thought.

A week later, Azriel cursed himself for wishing for more work. Rhys had him so busy that he barely had time to eat each night before passing out from utter exhaustion. It was like Rhys knew he needed a major distraction, for which Azriel should have been grateful. His brother had always seemed to understand parts of him that Azriel had difficulty voicing out loud. It’s not like he wasn’t glad to be busy, with peace in Prythian and no whisper of threats on the horizon. It was a wonder Rhys had been able to find so much for him to do. 

Today though, under his High Lord’s insistence, Azriel was forced into a day off. He supposed he should do something to enjoy it, like sleep in a little, but found that he was up before the sun regardless. Without anything to do and nowhere to be, Azriel let the House pamper him with coffee and pastries before setting off to sit on the roof of the training pit. Velaris was painted in purples and pinks as the sun began its steady ascent into the sky. Up here, the air was chilly but it felt good on his skin. He was dressed in his most comfortable flying leathers and probably the most relaxed he had been in a long time. The sounds of early morning birds began to drift up to his ears as he sipped on his coffee and enjoyed the feel of the wind whipping against his wings. 

Thankfully, he had been too tired to dream for a few days. They had started to get out of hand, leaving Azriel to wonder what was so wrong with him that he would think of Eris Vanserra that way, of all people. It wasn’t like he wasn’t pretty. Even Azriel could admit that, but his nasty personality had always been a greasy film over that beauty, making it impossible to see. Just as he decided it was probably nothing more than a little pent-up frustration, something fluttered above his head. 

He glanced up just in time to see a bit of parchment get caught up in the mountain wind. As it blew away, he sent a shadow to retrieve it, wondering what it could be. The shadow placed it into his palm, warmed by the mug, and Azriel took a sip of his coffee as he looked it over. 

When his brain caught up to what he was seeing, he choked on the hot liquid, splattering it all over the place as he began to cough. After his fit, Azriel smoothed out the paper crumpled in his hand and stared at it for a long time. The sun had begun to gild the world around him, burning away the dewy purples and delicate pinks. 

Sketched on the ivory paper was a pair of wings. The longer he stared at them, the more familiar they became. When Azriel realized they were an exact copy of his own wings, his stomach flipped. Every last scar, bump, and misshapen angle was meticulously drawn out as if the artist had spent many years studying their subject. Something heavy thumped in Azriel’s chest, and he swallowed against the slight pain of it. 

“What-” Azriel started, then stopped himself as he thumbed lightly over the intricate drawing and spotted a place that had been circled. It was a spot at the base of the left wing, with an arrow connecting the spot to a note written in elegant handwriting. 

It has to be here, the place with the least likely damage.

Azriel laughed out loud before he could stop himself. He let his legs dangle over the side of the roof while his finger trailed along the edges of the drawing and spent a long time reviewing the details. Each one was painstakingly added. 

That tight coil in his gut heated to the point that Azriel had to take in sharp, shallow breaths just to be able to breathe. Maybe Eris was just naturally observant and had a great memory, but this spoke of a level of attention Azriel wasn’t used to. Even his own family had a hard time looking at him for a long period of time. Sometimes, it made them uncomfortable, and sometimes, they were slightly frightened of him. Even if it wasn’t obvious, his shadows picked up on it, and they relayed everything to him. Everything, except apparently, this. 

Once his fingers stopped trembling, Azriel held out an open palm, and his shadows dropped a pencil into it. He scribbled down just two words;

Not it. 

Azriel found his smile again as the paper started smoking at the edges, turning slowly to powdery gray ash that he rubbed between his fingers, hoping it might stain his skin as a reminder. Then it was gone completely, swept up in the strengthening wind, and returned to its owner. Azriel was less uncomfortable than he thought he should have been to know that he was being watched so closely.

He stood and shook out his wings, watching the city far below come to life in the early morning. A smile tugged at his lips, and for just a few deep breaths, Azriel let himself muse over why he was smiling. After following that train of thought as far as he could stand it, Azriel scrubbed his face with his hands through one last vocal exhale and spread his wings wide. 

The cold air rushed over them, and Azriel relished in it. For all the talk about his wing sensitivity, Azriel had a hard time thinking about exactly why they were in the state they were in now. He was hardly the only one. Centuries of fighting naturally wore down the nerve endings of many Illyrian warriors. Still, he had more scars than most. 

The de-sensitivity started when he was so young; a cramped cage in a dark basement,  undersized and malformed wings. It was the start of a long journey that Azriel realized was still unfolding. He wondered what stories his wings were still trying to collect, hoping they would be stories with happier endings. 

Cassian’s were much the same. Azriel knew from experience that there were still several places on Cassian’s wings that were sensitive to a lover’s touch. 

That thought had another smile blooming on his face. Azriel closed his eyes and angled his wings so that the breeze shot over the top of them instead of catching the underside. He thought this sensation might be enough, even if he could never fly again. It sent a thrill throughout his whole body just to have the wind singing against him up here where it was strong enough that he could feel it. 

If you’re u, you could come to breakfast, you know. 

Azriel shuddered at the sudden intrusion and rolled his eyes at his brother’s suggestion. 

I thought I told you to quit doing that. It’s creepy. 

And I thought I told you to take the day off. What are you doing up so early? 

Azriel stretched his arms high over his head, the hem of his shirt coming up to expose his stomach to the cool mountain air. He stretched his legs out, too, making his brother wait for an answer. 

You could have at least knocked.

He chastised, still not answering his brother's question. 

I would have knocked, but you were being rather … loud. 

Azriel swallowed the panic that shot through him at whatever Rhys might have heard. No matter what it was, it must not have been too incriminating, or Rhys wouldn’t sound so chipper. The male was a lot of things, but subtle wasn’t one of them. If you knew him well enough, Rhys was an open book. 

With a sigh, Azriel turned his back to the roof's edge and prepared to free-fall backward into the open sky. Just before he let himself fall back, the paper fluttered out in front of him again. He had to reach out quickly to snag it before the wind tore it away. It was the same parchment as before, with the pair of carefully sketched wings. Only this time, the opposite wing base was circled with a few question marks hastily written around it. The Illyrian let out an easy chuckle, a sound he rarely heard from his own ears. 

Instead of answering, Azriel carefully folded the paper and stuck it in his pocket over his chest. He placed his palm over the spot and wondered if the heat was only in his imagination. Blowing a deep breath to calm his nerves, Azriel closed his eyes and threw his head back, letting the first rays of sunlight wash over him. 

As he fell back, all of the dreams and every passing thought from over the last few weeks burst into his mind. The flood of emotion that hit him was unfamiliar and terrifying, only controlled by the adrenaline rush the free fall provided him. Just before the ground became a threat, Azriel’s wings snapped open, and he pumped them hard to climb higher and higher in the morning sky. 

Scarred hands carded through dark curls as Azriel tried to calm himself down. If he showed up to the River House out of sorts, Rhys wouldn’t let him leave until he had wrung out every last one of Azriel’s secrets, not that he could. Azriel knew how to keep his own counsel, even from his High Lord, but he would have to tell Rhys something, and he wasn’t entirely sure he could come up with anything suitable for how mixed up he was. 

This felt so absurd that Azriel couldn’t help but laugh at himself. It made him feel slightly better, knowing that this was a problem he couldn’t solve now, so there was no point in agonizing over it. After a few passes over the Sidra, Azriel finally felt settled enough to face his family. 

By the time he touched down on the River House lawn, the air moved easier in and out of his lungs, and the only thing on his mind was taking his nephew on a flying lesson later that day. 

The River House was quiet, with Feyre out at her studio in town and Nyx out back with Cassian. Rhysand’s study was especially still. Azriel didn’t know why, but Rhys was on edge, making his shadows jumpy. 

“Here.” Rhys thrust a stack of papers and letters into Azriel’s hands with a grim smile, knocking back the rest of his whiskey. 

“What is this?” Azriel asked, thumbing through the parchment. Everything was sealed. 

His thumb slid under the edge of one of the envelopes, and just as he was about to pop it open, Rhys spoke. 

“Don’t.” Azriel dropped his hand, giving Rhys a concerned look. “Eris will know. You’re meeting him tonight, right?” 

Azriel grit his teeth. “Shouldn’t I know?” He said as evenly as he thought he could. Azriel could hear the gulls crying from the docks and his nephew’s bright laughter in the silence that followed.  

“Eventually,” Rhys mumbled, giving Azriel another half-hearted smile. 

“What the hell does that mean, Rhys?” Azriel followed his brother out of the study and into the kitchen. The High Lord stood at the large glass door overlooking their backyard and smiled. Nyx was currently having flying lessons with his uncle.  

“You should take some time off soon.” He said quietly without turning to look at Azriel, who had sidled up next to him. “Help Nyx unlearn some of the bad flying habits he will surely pick up from Cassian.” 

“Rhys, what’s-” With all of the wind knocked out of his argument, Azriel sighed and followed Rhys’ gaze out toward their brother, who had Nyx by the ankle and was throwing him up in the air. “What the hell is he doing?” Face screwed up in confusion, Azriel’s eyes widened slightly in horror before shaking his head and turning away from the scene. 

“Something about falling practice. To learn to soften his landings I think?” Rhys shrugged and followed Azriel away from the window.

“Rhys, what aren’t you telling me?” Azriel sounded exasperated, clutching the papers in his hand until the letters threatened to crumple. 

His brother just looked at him with an expression that Azriel couldn’t quite decipher. It made Azriel feel almost guilty for something. “I haven’t kept anything from you that I have had the liberty of telling you.” He said after a while. Each word was formed with care as if he could not say what he wished.

Azriel rolled his eyes. This had been going on for weeks. “What a very diplomatic way to tell me to fuck off.” 

Rhys only chuckled. “Aren’t you going to be late?” 

Azriel opened his mouth like he might say something else, but before he could get a chance, the shadows swallowed him of their own free will, spitting him out hastily in the clearing where he was due to meet Eris in a moment's time. 

A quick look at the shadows of the trees on the ground told him that he was on time, but Eris was nowhere to be seen, and it wasn’t like him to be late. Azriel’s right hand rose to cover the warm spot over his heart where the paper he had filched weeks ago was still hidden. He had taken it out a few times, studied the map of his wings etched on the page, and compared it to what he saw in the mirror for as long as he could stand it before tucking it away again. Over and over, Azriel tried to stop thinking about the drawing, his dreams, and the thoughts that snuck up on him during quiet mornings.

Autumn had become a plague on him. It was easier when it was a burning hatred. For centuries, Azriel had known exactly how to handle the viper of a male, but now, for no discernable reason, that hate had cooled. Azriel was left with a mess of half-thawed feelings and emotions he didn’t know what to do with. He couldn’t even be sure when the inferno of his rage had died down to a quiet simmer, but the change was almost all he could think about now. 

Restless and agitated by how his thoughts were quickly running away from him, Azriel stopped paying attention to the lengthening shadows as time passed. Instead, he was mindlessly walking around the clearing, kicking up debris and watching as his shadows swirled around the leaf litter, creating little wind funnels. 

Later, he would tell himself that was why he didn’t hear someone sneaking up on him until it was too late. With no time to properly react, Azriel was pressed face-first into a nearby tree trunk with his arms tightly behind him. 

Warmth breath coasted along his nape as someone pressed in close. It was all Azriel could do not to shiver from the warmth of a strong, lean body lined against him. It was an awkward moment for him to suddenly realize how well he knew the lines and muscles of that body. 

The scent of well-worn books and sweet whiskey hit his nose, and he found himself desperately wishing to drink it down until he drowned. It was such an intense and sudden urge that Azriel’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest. He had to shut his eyes and hold his breath to calm down. It almost worked, but Eris clicked his tongue, admonishing Azriel for his carelessness, and the sound tickled his ear. Azriel couldn’t suppress the shudder that went through him, and his cheeks heated from embarrassment.   

“Caught off your guard Shadowsinger?” Eris’ voice was smooth and dark, and it skittered along his skin. Azriel shifted in his hold to alleviate some of the pressure building on him at the sound, only to make things worse. Eris held him tightly, pressing their bodies together and causing Azriel’s front to grind against the tree he was trapped against. “Again, I might add.” 

“Enough,” Azriel growled. He pushed back with such force Eris had to let go or risk having the back of Azriel’s head break his pretty nose. Before he could get close again, Azriel’s shadows moved him across the clearing. His heart was still hammering in his chest, and Azriel couldn’t tell if it was because of his anger or something else. 

Golden eyes caught his own, and something heavy and hungry fell into the pit of Azriel’s stomach. He let his gaze dip down ever so slightly to catch how the breath puffed between Eris’ parted lips. It seemed as though Azriel wasn’t the only one struggling. It made him feel better but also more confused. So many questions flew through Azriel’s thoughts as he tried to make sense of the way Eris was looking at him.

The pocket against his chest bloomed with warmth, and he had to fight to shake the image of that sketch from his mind. Thankfully, this brought his attention to the papers Rhys had asked him to pass along. He removed them from the void between worlds, giving both males a chance to collect themselves. Quickly clearing his throat, Azriel stepped back and produced the papers that Rhys had instructed him to pass on to Eris. 

“Care to tell me what’s in these?” He smirked at the frown Eris was sporting as his eyes screwed up to see what Azriel was flapping around so close to his face. He snatched the papers away and unfolded them. Those bright eyes dulled slightly as they traced over the words on the pages carefully but quickly. Each moment of silence that passed grew more and more filled with tension. The frustration on Eris’ face made Azriel wish he had disobeyed his High Lord and taken a peek at them before handing them over. He was certain there was no chance of Eris telling him what they were. 

Eris went stiff and clenched the papers in his hands so tightly that Azriel was almost worried they might start smoking any minute. It wasn’t frustration that laced Eris’ features, though. When Azriel looked into those amber eyes, he was surprised they refused to meet his own. Eris’ already pale skin was a sickly shade of white, almost green, and he looked frightened. 

Nostrils flaring, Eris inhaled deeply, looked down once more at the words written before him, and sighed. 

“You never replied,” He said quietly.

Azriel startled. “What?”

“My note. I never got it back.” A small smile, hidden in the corner of Eris’ mouth, threatened to expose itself, so Azriel respectfully looked away.

“Why do you care so much?” His voice had a tightness that he didn’t know how to get rid of. 

“I only find it difficult to let a puzzle go unsolved,” Eris replied cooly as he examined his nails. Azriel’s focus zeroed in on the rapidly beating pulse point in Eris’ neck. He wasn’t as relaxed as he was putting on. The heir may be able to glamour enough of himself to hide the truth from most people, but the problem with most people is that they are too lazy to look for the small tells in a person. Azriel was not most people. 

“Alright,” Azriel said as evenly as he thought he could. “Since you like puzzles so damn much, why not make it a game?” Panic rose in Azriel’s throat, but it was too late to take the words back. He didn’t even mean to say anything and didn’t know what he was doing. Whatever it was, there would be no going back after this. He knew that much. 

Other than screwing around with Casisan and Rhys, Azriel had never offered up a playful piece of himself like this to anyone. To give it up for someone with whom he shared a hateful history with felt absurd. Not even any of the females he had courted over the centuries had seen this side of him. With Eris, it felt natural, which should have scared him, but Azriel was only intrigued. His guard was down, and it would take Eris very little time to pick him apart if he chose to. It was … exciting. Azriel’s blood thrummed under his skin while he waited for Eris to answer.

While he waited, his panic started to turn into regret. Soft brown eyes and bright golden hair danced across his memory, and for a breath, Azriel nearly felt guilty. It was gone before he could blink. Mor could be dealt with later. Whatever anger she still harbored over Eris didn’t have to be his to harbor any longer if he didn’t want it to be. Looking at the male from only a few feet away, Azriel wasn’t sure he did.  

Eris was the Night Court’s ally, after all. He was slated to be the next High Lord of Autumn and a war general that even Cassian had conceded had excellent skills in strategy. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad not to want to kill him all the time. 

Eris’ ear twitched while he mulled over Azriel’s words, not unlike a forest creature, and Azriel had to suppress a smile. A blink later, the arrogance he wore like a well-tailored suit slid over his face. 

Eris’ spine straightened with practiced ease. “What do you mean a game?” He asked, finally meeting Azriel’s eyes.

“Well, “ Azriel started as he stepped into his shadows. Another step, and he was mere inches from the heir again. Eris didn’t move, and Azriel watched the gold ring in Eris’s eyes shrink ever so slightly. He finally let his smile loose. “Since I have no real reason to tell you anything, and you have no reason to want to know, I am proposing that we play for it. There are things that I … want.” Azriel went on, his eyes flickering momentarily on the prickle of freckles at the corner of Eris’ mouth. He knew he was taking the game too far when he imagined Eris leaning toward him ever so slightly. 

“What do you want?” The redhead was so good at playing the unaffected royal, but his tells were suddenly so bright in Azriel’s senses that he couldn’t ignore them if he wanted to. A slight hitch to Eris’ breathing, his rigid fingers digging into his bicep, the way his toes ground down into the dirt below them. They were so loud that it was hard for Azriel to think straight. 

“You have three,” Azriel held up his fingers in front of Eris’ face, and his stomach clenched at the way Eris looked at them, a little cross-eyed and boyish. It was ridiculous, but Azriel got the feeling that Eris would open his mouth and swallow them whole if Azriel were to press them against his lips. The shadowsinger took a step back and cleared his throat. “Three meetings to figure out the most sensitive spot on my wings, and I’ll give you … anything you want.” Those last words got stuck on their way out, and Azriel felt nauseous. 

The dilation in Eris’ pupils wasn’t so subtle anymore. If Azriel didn’t leave soon, there was a good chance he would spoil the fun and do something he would regret. The spymaster could see himself choking the brat again, only, this time, it wouldn’t be with his hands. 

“And if I don't?” No, Azriel definitely wasn’t imagining things. Eris was much closer to him than he was a moment ago. So close that Azriel could count each burnished lash on the end of his heavy eyelids. 

“Then you’ll give me what I want.” He tried to sound unaffected, arrogant even, but knew he had failed when Eris’ lips curved up in a slight smile. 

“What is it you want, Shadowsinger?” In a voice laced with sultry poison, Eris posed the question that Azriel didn’t think to have an answer ready for. 

“I-” Azriel felt his eyelids flutter as the pull to close the space between grew so tight it nearly cut off his ability to breathe. “Tell me what Rhys is keeping from me?” He blurted without thinking. Azriel sobered immediately at the look in Eris’ eyes. The air between them grew colder, and the heir stepped back. 

“Very well, Shadowsinger,” He said, smoothing his clothes. Something cold and unyielding slid over Eris’ expression, and for the first time in 500 years, Azriel couldn’t stand the sight of Eris locking himself away. “ Your High Lord seems to think quite highly of your skills… and himself.” Muttering that last bit under his breath, Eris looked back down at the papers in his hands before tucking them away in his own little storage pocket between worlds. “However, I wonder how highly he values you.” 

Before Azriel could ask what that meant, Eris was gone. All that was left of him was the lingering scent of leather and praline that would follow the Shadowsinger into his dreams. 

“Please.” Azriel heard himself whisper breathlessly over and over again, a prayer in his voice. The softness of the sheets as they crinkled between his fingers matched his tone but was in such harsh contrast to the fire ghosting along his wings. It was the heat of breath, of life, coasting along each bone and wrapping around every inch of the membrane. Azriel wasn’t entirely in his body; he was hovering just outside, where the sensations might not drive him completely mad. 

The feeling was euphoric but entirely foreign. It was something he had only ever heard about, and now that he was experiencing it, it felt like he was only doing so abstractly. He could feel every bit of exposed skin where it pressed into the mattress as if his nerves were wrapped around the outside of his body instead of within. 

Someone was calling to him, their voice a whisper in the dark as the feel of their breath lit him from the inside, wherever it fell on him. A soft hand ran up the back of his thigh to curve over the swell of his ass as it made its way up to the base of his wing. No one had ever touched him like this. No one had ever been able to. Azriel tried to turn and see who could break him apart so effortlessly, but light didn’t exist here, and his body resisted every command as it melted into those delicate touches. A familiar scent was hanging in the air; it hung between this moment and reality like a shield, but he couldn’t place it. With a muddled mind and a body under someone else's control, all Azriel could do was arch back into them and plead for more. 

A hand wrapped around his throat to pull him up so that they were back to chest. He whined at the featherlight sensations and pressed his ass back into the rock-hard length of his partner. A lock of red hair fell over Azriel’s shoulder as they leaned forward, pressing soft kisses to the rounded top of his ear. He never wanted anything more than to hear them speak when just the intake of their breath sent shivers up his spine. 

Time slowed, giving the anticipation clinging to their bodies a chance to build to torturous levels. He could feel their lips peel apart as the words readied themselves on their tongue. 

“Please,” Azriel breathed again, hoping his meaning was clear. 

“Az-”

Azriel shot up in bed, swallowing down gasping breaths. The sheets were in a tangle around his bare torso and legs, and they felt like snakes strangling the life from him. Sweat chilled his overheated body, and his chest ached. A hand came up and rested over his heart, beating so frantically he was almost afraid it would burst. 

“Fuck.” The Shadowsinger scrubbed his face with both hands, trying to rub the vivid images from that dream out of his head. 

A memory of sensation tremored down his wings, and Azriel shuddered. He threw his body back on his bed with a moan, running the heel of his hand down his rock-hard length. Azriel’s entire body ached with need, and he was tired of fighting it. 

It had been weeks since he last spoke with Eris, and Azriel had scarcely had time to think about the dangerous game he had started. That was until his dreams had begun to get more and more graphic. Now, the brat was all Azriel could think about. They didn’t happen often, but when he did dream, they were so vivid that Azriel would feel their effects for the rest of the day. 

Normally, he would ignore his needs in favor of a predawn flight and an ice-cold shower. Today, he was tired. A scarred hand wrapped around his cock, and Azriel growled in frustration. His rough skin was not the texture he had been longing to feel, but the memories of his dream, of the voice in his ear, were just enough to help him find a quick, pathetic release. He lay there, his own spend getting tacky in his hand as he held his limp dick and just breathed. This was the part where he should have been overcome with shame, but the only thing he felt was even more frustration than before. 

A groan passed his lips, and Azriel peeled himself from his bed. He padded over to the bathroom to rinse his hands before slipping on the soft pants he had discarded on the floor the night before. The fabric slid up over his thighs and rested low on his hips. It took several calming breaths before he could do much of anything else. 

In only three quick strides, Azriel was jumping into the open air through the window of his bedroom. His wings unfurled after a shortfall, carrying him up on the wind into the night sky. It was still dark out; the bruised purple of predawn was a veil of mystery over the city below. Azriel flew fast and hard until his breath tore in and out of his lungs. He barely made it back into his bathroom window before needing to collapse on the ground in exhaustion. The wind had been cold, and Azriel should have been freezing without a shirt on, but his body felt flush, and he groaned as he pressed his face against the cool tile floor. It was a while before he could make himself stand up and shower. 

After his shower, Azriel felt better; being clean was apparently its own sort of medicine. He stood in the middle of his room in fresh clothes, able to breathe a little easier, if even for only a short while. 

He was toweling off his hair and looking over the work on his desk that he had abandoned the night before, only to find a note, not in his handwriting, sitting at the top of one of the piles. It was another drawing of Azriel’s wings with a spot circled, the word, here , scrawled next to it. This one was even more detailed than the last, and Azriel could do nothing for long minutes except stare at it as water dripped down his nose from his dark locks.

A trembling finger brushed over the delicate lines as his lips parted. Carefully, he sat at his desk and picked up a pen but hesitated. Hand hovering over the parchment, Azriel tried and failed to regulate his breathing. After a while, he wrote the word, no , next to the circle. It took no time for the note to curl into ash and disappear entirely. Azriel didn’t have a chance to wonder how long it might be before he got a reply when it appeared before him. His heart stumbled. The drawing was gone; it seemed that Eris had not wanted a second one stolen, and on a new piece of parchment, he wrote; 

How do I know you’re not lying to me? 

How should I prove it to you?

Azriel replied quickly, before he could put much thought into it, and turned his attention outside to the morning inviting itself into his bedroom. 

Birds twittered where they perched on the ledge just outside, and orange drips of sunlight filtered through the curtains, splashing onto the walls and floor. He let his mind wander, not hurrying to leave before Eris answered. When the parchment returned, Azriel almost wished he hadn’t been waiting for it. His heart jolted as he read the words. 

Can we meet? 

Breath quickening and heart racing, Azriel picked up the paper with trembling fingers and stared at the words for a long time. He felt ridiculous being this worked up over a meeting with someone he had to meet with all the time, but they never met because of something so trivial and almost… silly. This wasn’t a mission or a chore; if Azriel agreed and went to him, he might be crossing a line he hadn’t known existed until now.  

Azriel put the paper down and stared outside while he attempted to regain control of his body. Every slow breath in and out was a measure of restraint that was getting harder and harder to pretend he had. When he finally felt like himself again, Azriel picked up the pen and went to write the rejection he knew he should, even if somewhere deep down inside of himself, he wanted to accept. 

Unfortunately for him, the part that wanted to accept came crashing to the surface as the pen touched the paper. Azriel saw the words he had not meant to write, only moments before they disappeared, and the paper with them. Fuck . 

Tonight. Our place.

There was no reply after that, and Azriel spent the rest of the day trying to keep his mind off what he had done. There was nothing strictly wrong with it, and he quickly realized that it wasn’t guilt eating him up. Strangely, just a few years ago, Azriel would be mortified by himself and afraid for his family to find out. Mor might be furious with him, Cassian annoyed, and Rhys might try to forbid him from seeing Eris, but none of that seemed to matter to him now. The day was almost done when he finally recognized the emotion running through him. 

Azriel was … excited. It had been a long time since something so small had sent a thrill running along his veins, and the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he had ever truly felt this way. Certainly, flirting had never done this to him. That’s what Azriel had been doing for a while now, and it felt ridiculous to admit, even just silently to himself, that Azriel was flirting with Eris Vanserra of all people, and it was ... exciting. 

By the time night started to blanket the land, Azriel’s nerves were shot. It took a lot of maneuvering to avoid his family, but he succeeded. Had he run into any of them, he would have unraveled completely. 

Now, sitting in the dark quiet of his room, Azriel watched his shadows. They wound around each other in front of him, lit only by the low fire in the hearth behind them. In all the centuries of hating the male, he never realized how beautiful his shadows might look next to the fire. They naturally avoided very bright areas, unable to stay corporeal enough to be of any use. In the light of a fire, though, they danced. Each one wove in, and out of the natural shadows the flames produced like the Mother herself choreographed it. 

Azriel called them to him and felt their power settle over his shoulders. They wound around his neck and wrists, gently holding him with only the crackle of flames breaking the silence.

The shadows didn’t have a strong physical presence, Azriel could feel them more than anyone else but even then it was only the barest of touches. Tonight felt different. Eyes closed, Azriel could almost pretend their comfort came from something, or someone else. 

It wasn’t long before he was due to meet Eris, but he couldn’t make himself move for some reason. The excitement he had felt all day was bracketed by a trickle of anxiety that had been running steadily through him, like water through rock. A fissure had now opened inside of him, and he was finding it hard to concentrate. 

The shadows tightened their hold, breaking Azriel out of his spiraling thoughts. It was only then that he realized how labored his breathing had become, only he wasn’t so sure it was all from anxiety. Just as they always had, the shadows cared for him, but something felt different. Their hold was comforting but more solid than he had ever remembered it being. 

Without him realizing it, the shadows had flattened over his chest and arms, pressing over him and moving in slow, soothing spirals. They twirled over his nipples and Azriel, startled at their brazenness, jerked to be free of them. As he did so, the scent of leather and sweet whiskey grew so heavy in the air that it was all he could smell and taste. With every inhale, Azriel felt himself grow more and more flushed. 

“What-” He tried to ask as the shadows traveled lower, but it was barely above a whispered pant. When they settled over his groin pulsing over it, he whined bucking into their phantom touch.  

They spoke Azriel’s name, low in his ear with someone else’s voice and Eris was suddenly everywhere and in everything. 

The shadows slowly worked their way over him until they covered every inch of him, from the tips of his talons to the ends of his toes. With a cry, the Shadowsinger toppled forward to his hands and knees on the carpeted floor. It was hard to breathe, and Azriel had to gulp down and gasp lungfuls of air at a time to cope with the dizziness in his head. 

It was a frenzy of movement and sound as the darkness consumed his body, and a deep hunger gnawed holes in his stomach. He knew he should be ashamed, but with each inhale of that rich Autumn scent, his shame melted into the ether. All that was left was this heat rippling through him. 

When the shadows pressed down against the tender spot on his wings, Azriel folded in on himself with a whimper as his wings trembled. He was curled up in a ball on the floor trying to find the will and strength to pull the pests off him. Every time he tried, the power of Eris’ scent nailed him to the ground and he was helpless again.

It was the very spot Eris had seemed so interested to find. The shadows knew it, they knew everything about Azriel. He often wondered if he was capable of keeping secrets from them. If they could be so easily compromised like this, he thought he better at least start practicing. 

Azriel had spent many nights over the last couple of months wondering why the interaction at that meeting with Rhys had started them down this path. Loneliness contributed to so many of his poor decisions, but he wasn’t sure that’s what it was this time. This had been different, and it had sparked something in Azriel that was now blazing out of control. His offhand confession and Eris's childlike curiosity, all of it just feeding a fire that had already been smoldering under the surface. 

“Enough.” He rasped, spit dribbling out of his mouth in a long chain at the end of his tongue. He was panting like a hound and utterly helpless on his hands and knees. 

“I said enough.” He growled dangerously. Finally, a calming cool swept over the room. The house doused the fire and brushed against his overheated skin with a magically made breeze that Azriel wanted to wrap himself in. The relief was instant but the House could only douse the fire in the hearth, not the one inside of himself. 

As if in their own kind of trance, the shadows snapped out of their craze and hid in the darkened corners of the room, Azriel’s snarl sprinting after them. 

The climb off the floor was humiliating, and the scent of his arousal stained his skin; he wasn’t sure he could face Eris like that. Azriel glanced outside to judge whether or not he had time to shower and change, but a wave of anxiety surged through him. Quickly deciding it wasn’t worth being late over, Azriel shook out his hands and prepared to leave. The faster he got there, the faster he could get it over with. All he had to do was survive an hour or two with the male; it would be easy.

Even though he was late the clearing was empty when Azriel arrived. His shadows fanned out around him to scour the surrounding forest for threats and when they came back to him with nothing to report, Azriel slumped against the nearest tree and exhaled the breath he had been holding in anticipation. 

The boundary the shadows had crossed just a short while ago had them keeping their distance. Not that there was any real harm in what had happened; it wasn’t like it was the first time he had taken pleasure from their touch. It was only that Eris had become so entangled in Azriel’s thoughts that this instance felt like a violation. Subconsciously, if he had projected it enough for the shadows to pick up on it and try to provide him with some strange type of relief, then he was sure it would bleed out into the rest of his life if he weren’t careful. 

Now Azriel was trying to stay as still as possible as his mind wandered around the clearing, attempting to purge all memory of what had just happened to him. If Eris came too close too soon, he wasn’t sure he would be able to control his scent. 

This time Azriel didn’t have to wait long for Eris to show up and the heir didn’t try to conceal his presence or sneak up on Azriel. Although, it was more like he couldn’t. As soon as he made his presence known, Azriel tensed, but when he saw him, the Shadowsinger’s stomach flipped. Eris walked out of the treeline and into the open moonlight with his eyes averted. Even in this low light, he could see the angry red flush on Eris’ neck and face; the slight misstep of his gait was noticeable, too. If it weren’t for the shadows that darted out of one of Eris’ sleeves, and the faint scent of his arousal on the wind, Azriel might have thought he was drunk. 

The Shadowsinger reached out to the rogue shadows only to have them hide from him in the forest instead of facing him directly. That felt like an admission and as Azriel started to put the pieces together, he wanted to vanish on the spot. Maybe he hadn’t been the only one to experience a violation tonight. 

Despite what may or may not have happened, Eris had shown up. Sure, he had been the one to ask for a meeting but his disheveled appearance was decidedly not a Vanserra trait. It came as a surprise to Azriel that Eris would allow himself to be seen that way. 

Suddenly very amused, Azriel cleared his throat and took a step toward the Autumn male. Eris stopped walking and swallowed, finally meeting Azriel’s eyes.

To know that this vicious prince of fire was just as rattled now as Azriel was only a few minutes ago did something funny to his stomach. Azriel cleared his throat and took a step forward, Eris did not retreat but he stilled. A semblance of a mask rippled over the male’s face, but it was thin and ready to shatter with the slightest breeze. The Shadowsinger inhaled, filled with a need to peel that mask away when Eris coughed politely into his hand and stepped forward. He tucked his hands behind his back, and he let his predatory eyes narrow, surveying Azriel slowly from head to toe. 

“I believe - ” Eris stumbled over his words, his voice rough and thick. Clearing his throat, the male tried again. “Ready to lose Shadowsinger?” He asked, sounding a little more coy with a confident smirk settling into the corner of his mouth. Azriel had to fight the intense urge to bite it off him. 

“Think you have it figured out?” Azriel teased, folding his arms over his chest to hide the way his hands were fisted together. He was no longer sure what they were talking about.

The tension between them eased slightly at the familiar banter, and both males relaxed.

Eris scoffed and tucked his hands in his pockets. “I know I do.” 

“So confident.” Azriel nearly purred.

With a pert eyebrow raised Eris challenged him. “Is there any reason I shouldn’t be?” 

Azriel blew out a breath and unfolded his arms to splay them wide in invitation. 

“Then by all means.” He bowed slightly at the waist and held perfectly still as Eris circled behind him. His heart was beating wildly and Azriel was sure Eris could hear it. “There must be something you want very badly.” He added, spreading his wings out slightly once Eris was behind him. 

Eris’ breathing hitched so subtly that Azriel might have missed it if the forest hadn’t cooperated and gone deathly still. It was as if the world was holding its breath, waiting to see what the outcome of their game might be. 

“What are you talking about?” Eris tried to snap but his voice was too low and raspy to hold any real bite. 

“You’re just going to an awful lot of trouble to win. Such brazen confidence must mean you have a good prize in mind. Something you're eager to have.” Though he was the one on display, Azriel spoke with such velvet authority. He was sure that Eris would be shaking like a leaf if he could get a good look at the other male. It gave Azriel the desire for more until his quaking male was nothing more than a puddle beneath him. To dominate someone as prideful as the heir to the Autumn throne, the future High Lord, made Azriel needy with want. It took everything in him not to squirm. 

Eris touched the space on his back between his shoulder blades and suddenly the viper had the upper hand once again. Azriel stiffened at the touch, willing himself to breathe normally even if he knew the damage had already been done.

“Spread them.” The clear command made Azriel go weak at the knees but he refused to buckle. 

“I’m surprised you needed to see them in person.” Azriel taunted, ready to deal the next blow. “Your sketches are so detailed, I imagine you could see them just as they are now with your eyes closed.” Every word came out a little quieter than the last until he was practically whispering at the end of his sentence. 

Azriel imagined the brat letting his eyelids fall shut, the delicate auburn lashes tickling the freckles high up under his eyes. His pants got tighter. 

“Spread them out fully,” Eris repeated, a little firmer as the pads of his fingers pressed harder into his back. The fabric between their skin was maddening, and Azriel wished Eris would have burned it away. 

Like a good boy, Azriel did as he was told and extended his wings fully. This kind of stretch burned to hold for too long, but it was worth it to hear Eris let slip out the little gasp. At the sound of it, Azriel did go to his knees, bowing over slightly at the waist with his hands fisted tightly on the tops of his thighs. He angled his wings slightly so that they were parallel to the ground where the moonlight would easily wash over them. 

A whisper of a breeze stole his attention away from the warm hands hovering over him. The forest was getting impatient, but not enough that the pressure building on his skin abated. Storms brewed with less theatrics than the charge running through the clearing at that moment. Instead of the crisp clear scent of lighting surging between them, it was the mixing scent of their arousals. Neither of them seemed to be trying to hide it any longer.

Eris took a step back, and Azriel got the distinct impression that he was studying more than just his wings. The sketch Eris might create later from the vulnerable position Azriel had put himself in flashed across his mind and his hands trembled.

As Eris came close, the shuffle of dirt and leaves was loud in Azriel’s ears. Those firewarm hands hovered over Azriel’s left wing. 

Just a little more to the left . He thought before he could stop himself. Azriel swallowed down the realization that he wanted Eris to touch him… to win, and tried very hard not to think about what that meant. 

Slowly the heat from the male’s hand started to move. Azriel’s breathing had become heavy, almost erratic in anticipation. It should have been obvious to him that Eris would have figured it out well within the allotted moves he was allowed. Even Cassian admitted that Eris was a brilliant strategist and if the detail that went into those drawings was any indication, Eris had been thinking about Azriel’s wings for longer than he probably wanted to know. 

If he was thinking about Azriel’s wings, he was thinking about the rest of him too and the Shadowsinger didn’t know what to do with that information. What would happen if the game ended right then? They couldn’t go back to whatever they were before, that much was obvious but neither of them was ready to plunge too deep, still dancing around whatever truths they had spent so long running from. Eris seemed to have the same thought as the trajectory of his hand suddenly changed. Azriel let out a slow, relieved breath. 

“Here,” Eris said quietly as he moved his finger in a rough circle over a patch of his membrane that was relatively smooth. A lie of a guess, and they both knew it. 

“No.” He replied simply, rising to his feet and snapping his wings in close. They burned. 

He turned to face Eris, who was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes were trained on a spot just behind Azriel so he didn’t have to look at him directly. 

Azriel rolled his shoulders and tried to loosen his stiff muscles. 

“One more shot.” He teased, trying to dispel some of the charge in the air. Eris nodded his head absentmindedly, creasing his brows together ever so slightly as he pondered something Azriel wasn’t privy to. 

Cute.  

That thought swam around Azriel’s head in lazy circles as he refused to acknowledge it. He had the urge to reach out and brush the spot between those brows with his thumb to smooth out the skin there. 

They were still standing too close together and in the light of the moon, it almost seemed as though Eris was leaning forward, toward him. Like he was pulled by an unseen force, Azriel took a step forward, then another. Before he knew it, he and Eris were toe to toe, mere centimeters separating them. 

That was the moment Eris finally snapped out of whatever daze he had fallen into. They were so close that the Autumn heir’s eyes were screwed up trying to look at Azriel straight on. Instead of falling back a step as Azriel assumed he would, Eris grew so still that not even a stray hair could be seen blowing in the slight breeze. The male was holding his breath either in anticipation of what might come next or out of self-preservation.

If Azriel hadn’t been tortured by the scent of the male so close to him, he might have been able to discern which one it was. Eris's scent was maddening, strong, and old like the leather spines of well-worn books and the syrupy but slightly spiced scent of sweetened whiskey. 

With his eyes slightly crossed and his freckles in stark contrast with his moon-white skin, Azriel was struck dumb. Azriel and his family, for all the insults they had thrown Eris’ way, ugly was never one of them. None of them had ever denied the male his beauty. Now that Azriel was faced with it head-on, in a new context, he realized it went beyond that. Eris wasn’t just beautiful, he was an iridescent star in the predawn light, glittering like an opal in a sea of midnight hues or a drop of dew on a flower imbued with the golden light of morning making freshly opened petals glow. His beauty was seductive and addicting. It was sharp like the first breath after nearly drowning and it wasn’t until that moment that Azriel realized he had spent the last few centuries completely submerged. 

It was difficult not to react, but Azriel swallowed down the shock of these feelings slowly as they rose to the surface. A pressure built up under his skin but it wasn’t unpleasant. Instead, it felt almost like wrapping himself in something comfortable and familiar. Curled on the couch in a blanket on a cold night, the soft brush of leather as he settled into his favorite chair in front of the hearth, the texture of a well-worn book between the fingers of one hand and the clink of ice from the whiskey in his other hand. What it felt like wasn’t the excitement of something new, certainly, there was that, but this feeling went deeper, it was the feeling of coming home. 

Words died on his tongue and Azriel forced himself back a step. Every inhale was saturated with the very essence of this male and if he hadn’t put distance between them then, he might have pressed closer, until there was nothing between them at all.. 

Intoxicated by all that he now felt, Azriel swayed forward but called the shadows to him before he could get too close to Eris. Now only a shade of himself, nothing but his fading form and the slight smile on his lips was visible in the dark of the night. 

“Good luck,” He whispered, burning the color of Eris’ blush into his mind before disappearing completely. 

Back in his room at the Night Court, Azriel fell back against the wall with a thud and clenched a fist against his chest. His heart was pounding and it was hard to take in air. Each gulp felt like needles in his lungs, making his vision blur at the edges. While it had felt so right, Azriel couldn’t help but feel guilty now, not only for leaving like he did when things were moving in a new direction but for what this might mean for his family, Mor especially. 

The Shadowsinger had thought he wouldn’t care but it had only been the lust talking. There was no shame in his heart, surprisingly, but that made it feel all the more dangerous. What scared Azriel the most was that he wasn’t sure if he would obey if his High Lord demanded he stop. He wasn’t sure that Mor or Cassian’s hurt or anger would be enough to sway him back to his senses either. Azriel wanted Eris and wanted him bad enough that he was aware that there were things very dear to him that he might be willing to sacrifice to have him. 

The hours had passed faster than he realized and it had grown late but he knew he would find no sleep that night. Instead, the Shadowsinger took a very long, very hot shower and didn’t emerge from the bathing room until he had made himself come three times, each time with Eris’ whispered name, like a sweet poison, on his lips.

After, he had just enough energy to fall into bed naked and when Azriel closed his eyes, he didn’t open them again until the sun was well into the morning sky. 

“What’s with you today?” Cassian grunted as steel met steel. Azriel’s sword clanged against his, hard, and nearly forced him down onto the ground. 

“Nothing.” Azriel rasped back as he continued his assault, not letting up until Cassian threw himself out of the way. 

Azriel snarled and threw his sword to the ground in frustration. 

“Bullshit.” Cassian’s breath was sawing in and out of his lungs from where he sat hunched over on his knees, now a few feet away from the Shadowsinger. He wiped his brow with the end of his shirt and glared up at the other male. “Now that I think about it, it’s not just today, you’ve been like this for at least a week. Female troubles?” 

“No.” Azriel pushed out the word, barely a grunt, and spun on his heel away from Cassian and his questioning. It wasn’t something he could run from but he did his best to ignore it. Waiting for them at the edge of the training ring was a large carafe of water. Foregoing the cups set to the side of it, Azriel picked up the pitcher and downed the water in just a few gulps. Cassian came to stand up next to him and winked. 

“Male troubles?” Azriel choked on the water and growled at his brother. “Is that a yes then?” 

“None of your business.” Azriel flapped his wings once, wishing to be gone from the rooftop and Cassian’s presence altogether but his back muscles were screaming at him to stay grounded. So, at least for a few more minutes, he would have to endure. 

“Oh come on, at least tell me who it is.” Cassian teased, waggling his brows.

“You don’t know him.” The lie was easy; it was the next words out of his mouth that he had the most problems with. “I- fuck. Nevermind.” The twinkle in Cassian’s eye was too much for him and Azriel snapped his mouth shut before he could say another word. 

“Oh come on.” The General grabbed Azriel by his arm to keep him from leaving and looked at him with giant, innocent eyes. “Let me help.”

After a moment of holding his breath as he weighed his options, Azriel sighed. 

“I- I haven’t…” Azriel cleared his throat but still struggled to get out what he wanted to say. Communication was one of his greatest weaknesses and it only made it worse that he wasn’t sure what he was even feeling. “I just thought we… but he hasn’t… and…” 

Cassian blinked a few times, trying to follow Azriel’s erratic thoughts. When it finally dawned on him his eyes widened in triumph. “You haven’t heard from him?” 

Azriel shook his head, his eyes cast down at his feet. There was a warm flush creeping up the back of his neck. 

“How long?” 

“A month.” 

“A month?!” Cassian choked on air and cleared his throat in apology when Azriel snapped up narrowed eyes in his direction. “Ok, alright, a month. And you’re sure he… I mean, it was obvious you would be hearing back from him?” Cassian winced at his own clumsy words.

Both of Azriel’s hands carded roughly through his hair until he was pulling at the roots and groaning. “I thought… I  don’t know what I thought but yes, we have … kind of a bet going.” Azriel could feel the amusement rolling off Cassian in waves and he couldn’t look at him. The flush was covering him from his cheeks down to his chest now and he thought he might die from embarrassment. 

“Well,” Cassian started a little too gently. Azriel dreaded what he might say next. “Have you… thought about reaching out to him instead?” 

He whirled on his brother, a snide retort on his lips. It died on his tongue when he considered how reasonable the question was. 

“Shit.” He breathed, scrubbing his face with both hands. 

“Maybe start there. You must really like him huh?” The chuckle in Cassian’s chest was too much for Azriel and before Cassian could elbow him in the ribs and get a few more jabs in, the Shadowsinger shot off into the sky. Whatever Cassian yelled after him was lost on the wind, but his laughter sounded clear in Azriel’s ears. 

Even after all of this pining, Azriel still wasn’t sure what he felt toward Eris. There was curiosity, sure, but he didn’t like the male. At most, it was a ridiculous lust bordering on infatuation. 

No, Azriel didn’t like Eris. He could never like the male but it was driving him insane that he had been left to twiddle his thumbs in the middle of their game for a month now. He thought the curiosity was mutual and now felt stupid that he had even considered that Eris might want at least some part of him too. 

Those spiraling thoughts chased him around the sky until Rhys called him to the River House. He was so irritated that he nearly snapped at his High Lord when those night dark talons of his scratched at his mind. 

Azriel nearly slammed into the ground when he landed on the lawn, sending his shadows skittering from where they were hiding under his wings from the midday sun.  

They hastily gathered around him again and carried him into the house from one step to the next. He stayed hidden within them for a moment or two after entering Rhys’ study but when those violet eyes rose from whatever missive he had been reading to meet his hazel ones, even from within his shadows, Azriel peeled himself from their embrace. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Rhys was usually more tactful, so Azriel was caught off guard by the straightforward message, and he snarled at his brother. 

“I’m sorry.” Rhys sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “I haven’t been sleeping. Nyx’s sleep is … regressing and it’s been a long couple of weeks.”

Azriel didn’t say anything but his shoulders relaxed and he collapsed on the couch across from Rhys’ desk with a sigh. 

“I take it you haven’t been sleeping either?” 

Azriel shrugged. No, he hadn’t, but if he had admitted that, he would have to admit why he hadn’t been sleeping.

“Oh come on Az,” Rhys pleaded softly. 

“Cassian needs to learn to keep his mouth shut,” Azriel mumbled, leaning back against the back of the couch and letting his wings and head droop down the back of the other side. He stared at the ceiling, waiting for Rhys to get to the point.

“He’s just worried about you,” Rhys said finally. “Me too, you know, but I rarely get to see you between your work and mine, and Nyx.” 

Azriel felt a pang of guilt and he sat up. “I know,” He said quietly, letting his eyes focus on the papers strewn across the top of the desk instead of those penetrating, starry eyes. 

“I’m sorry Rhys, I-” Azriel’s eyes narrowed. “What are those?” He pointed to a stack of papers at the edge of the desk, full of a familiar elegant script. 

“What?” Rhys followed Azriel’s line of sight and looked down. “Oh, just some back and forth between Eris and me. He seems to think -” 

“He’s been writing to you?” Azriel interrupted, not taking his eyes off the letters. 

“I… yes I have ongoing correspondence with all our allies Azriel. That’s nothing new.” Rhys’ brow quirked up, and he crossed his arms over his chest. He sat back in his chair and assessed the male across from him. 

Azriel tore his attention away from the papers and met his brother’s stare. A smile played at the corners of Rhys’ mouth and Azriel felt very exposed. 

“Fine. If you called me here just to pry then I’m leaving.” Azriel stood and his shadows started to gather at his feet but Rhys stopped him. 

“Azriel wait. Have you …” Rhys followed Azriel's gaze down to the letters. “Heard from Eris recently?” 

Azriel’s attention shot to Rhys, and he was quick to answer. “Why would I have?” 

“I … no reason.” Rhys swallowed down what he was going to say and sat back in his chair. “Still, if you need any of this information.” His hand waved toward the papers in invitation but Azriel turned and let his shadows swallow him before his brother could say anything else. 

The Shadowsinger trusted the shadows, and when they weren’t given a direction, they behaved as he should have expected. When he stepped out of them, it was in an all-too-familiar clearing. He began pacing without bothering to give it much thought. 

If Azriel had seen it correctly, the top letter was dated only a day ago. It made perfect sense that Rhys would have regular correspondence with his allies, Eris included. When Azriel met with him, it was only to convey more sensitive information, there were plenty of things they would have to discuss between those meetings. So, why did it bother Azriel so much? 

If Eris was conversing with Rhys that often though, why hadn’t Azriel heard a word from him? He shook his head in irritation. Shadows swarmed him, as if on instinct and took him someplace new. When Azriel stepped back into the corporeal world this time, he had to stay hidden deep within them. 

Why would they bring him here? He shouldn’t be so deep within the Forest House. That had always been one of Rhys’ only rules, to stay away from this place when spying. It’s why they set up places to meet Eris outside or why the male always came to them. Beron’s defenses were tight and it was nearly impossible to slip through undetected. His shadows had learned their way through without telling him. 

His eyes took in the room around him. The air was thick with the scent of fire and something sweet. 

A single shaft of sunlight broke up the otherwise dark room. It shone like a beacon when it came in through the half-drawn curtains and from within its breadth, lay Eris. Eyes closed, the heir was snoring softly where he napped at his desk. Dust motes floated around him like cottonwood seeds, winking in and out of existence making his red hair shine and sparkle just a little brighter. On careful feet, the Illyrian stepped forward until he was close enough to brush away the strand of hair that had fallen over Eris’ face and tuck it behind his pointed ear. If the heir was falling asleep in the middle of the day, he was probably so overworked that of course, Azriel’s silly little game would have zero priority for him. An angry blush made Azriel’s ears hot and he felt so stupid at how much this had affected him but couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. 

Unguarded, the male was a strange thing to behold. There was a softness to his jaw he would never allow anyone to see if he was awake. Azriel was so caught up on the new information that he didn’t even notice what was covering his desk. 

Eris shifted slightly, drawing Azriel’s attention away from his face to his desktop. Piles of papers littered his desk and Azriel had expected to find court correspondence, maybe plans for trade or even the graphs he heard the male was so fond of. What he found instead, stilled the breath in his lungs. The Shadowsinger was so taken aback, he thought he might be hallucinating at first. 

There wasn’t a sliver of space that wasn’t covered in paper or open sketchbooks. On every page he could see, Eris had drawn wings from every possible angle. To his horror, Azriel realized that every single one was of his wings. 

Down to every minute detail, no matter the angle, Eris had copied his wings again and again in every way he could have. There were sketches, detailed drawings, paintings, and even more chaotic charcoals or oil pastels. 

Trembling, Azriel’s hands skimmed over the tops of them, picking one up at random. He held it within the light to get a better look and tried not to make any noise as his heart thundered out of control. He picked up another, then another, until he realized he wasn’t breathing and let the papers fall from his hands where he dropped to the floor beside them. 

Any doubts Azriel had before, thoroughly dissipated but whatever he had stumbled upon went beyond casual curiosity. It confused and exhilarated him, but mostly it scared him. Azriel was terrified that he had opened the door to something he wouldn’t be able to pursue, or that maybe he would be found wanting, easily discarded. 

When he thought he could steady himself once more, Azriel rose back to his feet and took a step closer to Eris, careful not to cover him in shadow. He reached out to let his fingertips trail down the male’s cheekbone, utterly entranced by the softness of his skin. 

Unable to help himself, Azriel moved to a crouch where he could be at eye level with Eris. He inhaled sharply, ready to ease Eris awake but the moment those long, burnished lashes fluttered, Azriel panicked. Before Eris could open his eyes, Azriel was gone. 

Eris cracked one eye open and immediately regretted it. The afternoon sun beating down on his stiff muscles was a harsh reminder that he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. Slowly sitting up, the heir listened to his bones clack against each other as his joints readjusted. With a frown, he stared down at the papers on his desk, the reason he hadn’t been sleeping at night. There was a drool spot on one of the paintings; if he had to guess, there would also be smudges of charcoal and paint on his face. 

Pathetic. Eris scoffed at himself and began to gather everything in two neat piles. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied a few pieces that had somehow fallen on the floor and bent to retrieve them. The scent of cold wind and cedar gripped his nose, and Eris startled. Despite the burning in his neck and back, he sat up straight and glanced around. Nothing, there was nothing and no one. Eris was alone. 

His face tingled and Eris touched the peak of his cheekbone lightly with two fingers, taking a slow, deep inhale of the scent still wrapped around him. If he was smelling Azriel after waking, he was so fucked. His dreams were the only place that scent should exist for him now. 

Birds chattered outside his window and the curtain fluttered in the light breeze that stepped into his room. Eris cracked each of his knuckles, lost in thought as he stretched his arms up over his head and yawned loudly. When he glanced down at his desk again, he groaned.  

There was no end to his madness and keeping a distance seemed to make things worse. It didn’t matter, as he gathered up his artwork, Eris fussed over the fact that he wasn’t any closer to winning this game than he had been a month ago anyway. Plus, the stupid bat had probably forgotten all about it. Only Eris would be stupid enough to still be obsessing over it. 

His pride simply wouldn’t allow him to back down no matter what, that was all. Eris stacked all of the papers as neatly as he could and took one last, long look before tucking them away into his little pocket between worlds. It would do him no favors to have any of them be discovered by anyone in his father’s house. A pitiful noise fell from him, somewhere between a groan and a whine, as he laid his head back on his desk, trying to gather the strength to move. 

It was a testament to his will that Eris managed to stand and tidy himself up before rushing out the door into the hallway. He was going to be late for another meeting if he didn’t hurry. Beron would not be present at this one at least, but word would easily and quickly get back to him no matter what. A misstep like that would earn Eris some time in the dungeons that he couldn’t afford.  

Eris had no clue what the meeting was about. Thankfully, no one asked anything of him, and he could pose as a willing participant even if his mind were a million miles away. Every flutter of a curtain in the breeze of an open window, every slap of a bird's wings, every shuffle of feet on the carpeted hallways just on the other side of the door reminded him of giant, strong Illyrian wings. They had begun to plague his every waking moment, having dominated his dreams long ago. 

Eris couldn’t focus and he was getting dangerously sloppy because of it. He knew something had to give, but it didn’t make him any less of a coward in executing any changes. The ultimatum Rhys had given him weighed so heavily on his shoulders that it was all he could think about when he had been content to leave it alone for such a long time. Eris had spent decades laying the groundwork for changes in autumn. Changes that would ultimately lead to freedom from Beron but now, because of one short-sighted baby High Lord, all of that was going to shit. Time was running out, Eris could feel it in the way his chest grew tighter and tighter each day. Eventually, he wouldn’t be able to breathe at all.   

With the meeting finally over, Eris could slip quietly back into his rooms. There would be nothing else for him to do for the rest of the day, maybe he could rest. What he needed was a long hot bath and a glass of wine. He crossed the threshold to his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Maybe several glasses of wine. He thought, letting his head fall back on the intricately carved wood. The ceiling stared back at him and he let his eyes unfocus and his courtier's masks melted away. The space behind his eyelids was the most dangerous for him to occupy so he kept them open and just breathed in the comforting smell of his space. This was the only place in the Forest House that he felt even a little comfortable anymore. It couldn’t be warded against his father’s magic but it could be warded against Beron’s spies. So, as long as Beron didn’t find it within his desire to traipse down here on his own, Eris was left in relative peace. 

After a while, Eris was unwound enough to winnow himself to the bathing room. The water was already filling the massive copper tub in the center of the room. He knew his brothers had more extravagant arrangements in their bathrooms, wading pools and near pond-sized tubs but Eris was so used to feeling confined that being cocooned in this space was somehow comforting. At the very least, familiar, which was something of a luxury in itself. 

Too lazy to strip, Eris set his clothes on fire and shivered when the cold air touched his newly exposed skin. He sunk into the steaming water so quickly that some of it splashed over the sides. 

Evening rolled around and Eris watched as the last drops of golden sunlight were squeezed from the world by the delicate fingers of night. He spent his dinner in the tub, drowning himself in cup after cup of wine as he tried to rework all of his plans that were starting to fray. Consolation came from the fact that it wasn’t the first time, nor would it probably be the last. It was the best he could do to calm his nerves. Eris was built on the ability to adapt, this should be no different. Only, it was. Everything was different this time around. 

Fully relaxed now, or perhaps just drunk enough not to care, Eris sunk deeper into the water and rested his head back on the basin. With his eyes closed, he quickly fell away into the dreams that he had spent a lifetime running from. At first, everything was abstract. The shapes behind his eyelids moved like shadows, almost liquid in the way they danced. It didn’t take long for the images to become more solid. A set of scared hands reached for him, lifting him on top of well-muscled thighs, brown and bare for him. Eris’ milky white skin looked too pale against that beautiful gold, and he struggled to comprehend how he was the one blessed with fire magic when he was otherwise so cold. 

Not here, though. Here, in this place, Eris was always warm. He melted where touched, and every piece of him seemed to form the perfect place for another body to slide against. 

Wings stretched out on either side of them, slowly encasing them in their own private world. Each soft sound echoed back to him, and every exhale stayed trapped there. Lips against the shell of his ear, little puffs of breath down the column of his throat—every sensation was magnified behind the curtain of those wings. 

Wrong hands, wrong hands. His mind chanted the words over and over as he took himself in his grip. Eris was close but it wasn’t enough. His fingers were too long, his skin too smooth, and though each slow pull brought him closer to the edge, he couldn’t find release. Eris sank lower, drowning himself in the fantasy until all he could hear were words spoken only in his dreams and all he could feel were the phantom brushes of a life that could have been if he were not the heir of Autumn and Azriel were not the Spymaster of the Night Court. 

Eris came with a gasp as his head burst back through the surface of the water. He gulped down the fresh air greedily as he worked himself down from the peak of his orgasm. The water, now filthy, undulated around him and threatened to spill over the edge. With great effort, the male drug himself from the water and managed to gather enough magic to dry himself. It took a considerable effort, Eris was exhausted both in mind and body and a little drunk. His heart was aching painfully and he let himself feel it all. 

The bed called to him, but he knew that if he let himself fall into its seductive embrace, he wouldn’t find sleep for hours. It had been that way for months, ever since Rhys had cornered him. That prick.  

Instead, Eris usually paired his wine haze with enough whiskey to drown twelve hounds while staring numbly into the fire, often falling asleep on the couch or at his desk. With a sigh, the Autumn prince pulled on his velvet robe and padded over to the waiting decanter. Not a drop spilled, even with shaking hands, and Eris felt himself smile at the small victory. It was pathetic but he took his amusement where he could. There wasn’t much of it in his life, to begin with, even less now that he had all but abandoned the game he had entered with that idiotic bat. 

He knew he was being stupid, that Azriel was the one who proposed the game in the first place and the distraction could get him killed. Court secrets and treason were only romantic in books, in real life it was mostly just a lot of waiting around, but waiting around with his head still attached. If Beron ever heard a whisper of what Eris had been getting up to in his free time, it would all be over. 

This ridiculous game and stupid infatuation would be the death of his dreams. The most dangerous part was that it made him forget who he was and his goals. Wings had taken up his entire vision until there wasn’t any room for anything else. He couldn’t keep this up. Dreams were all he had, and even those were beginning to sour into nightmares. 

Wood popped in the fireplace and startled him back into his body. He had been staring blankly into the flames while his thoughts bounced around in his broken mind. With a quick swallow, Eris knocked back the first glass and poured himself another. Only then did he make his way toward the couch. 

A casual glance down at the top of his desk as he passed had Eris stopping in his tracks. Heart rabbiting out of control, Eris slid his hand over the surface toward a note lying directly in the middle of his messy desk. He smirked as his fingers grazed the paper. 

Give up? 

The slightly rushed, almost messy handwriting was a balm on Eris' soul and he fell into his desk chair without bothering to think about what he was doing. 

Whiskey swirled in soft waves as Eris twirled his glass slowly in his left hand. The other hand pinched the parchment and brought it up to his eye level. Eris read the words over and over again until it was nothing more than splotches on ivory paper. 

He set both the paper and the glass down on the top of his desk and picked up a pen. After a while, he wrote; 

I only have one try left. I can't waste it.

It vanished in a show of shadow and sparks of night magic. Eris let out a breath of the stale air he had been holding in his lungs. There was no telling how long that note had sat there, waiting for him, or even if Azriel was awake and able to receive a reply. He waited for a while, forcing himself to watch the flames dying in the hearth instead of counting the seconds that ticked by. 

His chair creaked under him as he made to push back and leave his desk. Just as he was about to stand, the paper returned and Eris watched as it fluttered down to rest on his desk. He was almost afraid to pick it up. 

So you’ve been spending your time wisely then? 

Eris tapped the end of the pen against his desktop nervously trying to decide how to proceed. He could play into it, the wine and one glass of whiskey begging him to have a little fun. Or, he could do the smart thing and ignore this and drink enough to pass out as fast as possible. 

Before he could fully make up his mind, something caught his eye. Eris sat absolutely still as he watched one of those infernal shadows slip out from underneath the desk. It slid easily along the surface, favoring the pockets of darkness where the papers created their own shadows until it wound around his wrist. 

Unable to move, Eris watched the creature fit over his hand like a glove. He wasn’t sure if it was supposed to feel like anything, but the light and warm pressure felt almost familiar. A shudder ran through him, and Eris closed his eyes. The shadow squeezed over his hand, manipulating it. When he opened his eyes, the magicked paper was gone, and a plain piece of parchment was in its place. Somehow, Azriel could use his shadows to control Eris’ hand, and he had to fight to keep himself from thinking of all the ways that skill could be useful. 

Is keeping me waiting a strategic move or just a habit? 

The words glared up at Eris, accusing him of something that he was unwilling to admit out loud. A smile found its way back onto his lips in the dark quiet of his room, and he didn’t fight it this time. 

The shadow stayed put but Eris wriggled his fingers and found that he had full control. He stared back at the words for a while, still unsure how far he could safely take this. Perhaps it would be ok to … 

The shadow squeezed gently and Eris swore he could feel scarred skin against his. His heart squeezed painfully at the sensation and with a contended sigh, Eris put pen to paper. 

It wouldn’t be very strategic if I told you. 

Without waiting, the pressure of the shadow increased again and Azriel began to write. Eris watched in awe as his hand moved, even the handwriting was the other male’s. As he watched Azriel’s reply appear it occurred to Eris that Azriel must be able to read the words through his shadow and if he could see the paper… A furious blush broke out over his cheeks and Eris willed it away as quickly as he could, forgetting momentarily that he was having a conversation. 

Have you given it any thought? I’ll give you a free pass to discuss without using your last guess.

How generous. (I’m rolling my eyes) 

I can see that.

Eris couldn’t fight back the flush that broke out this time. He could feel the heat of it from his ears down to his chest.

How often do you snoop around with that special ability of yours? 

Never.

Liar. 

At least … not here… like this 

The heat from his flush began to travel south and Eris was immediately reminded that there might be other uses for these shadows. He tried to push that thought away but the shadow felt like it was rubbing soothing circles against his thumb and Eris’ cock twitched in answer. This was a terrible idea and he needed to put an end to this conversation before he embarrassed himself. 

To answer your question, I haven’t given it much thought at all. There are more import-

Without warning, the shadow prevented him from finishing his sentence and wrote over him instead. 

Liar. 

There was an acute pain in Eris’ chest and he was afraid that somehow, through the shadow, Azriel would be able to feel the rapid increase in his heart rate. 

What makes you think I have time for something as silly as - 

Again, Azriel stopped him from finishing his sentence and wrote over him. 

As a matter of fact, I think it’s the only thing you have been able to think about. 

Eris’ mouth dried out and he licked his lips. Azriel couldn’t possibly be so close to the truth unless he was just guessing or … or if he had seen. He suddenly remembered the pocket of Azriel’s scent that had surrounded him earlier that day.

You have been spying. 

It was a while before the reply came. The shadow grew colder, as if Azriel had gotten up and walked away, but it obediently stayed in place, waiting for its master to return. It was a while before that happened. Eris was just about to give up and try to get some sleep when the warmth in his hand returned.

So are you saying I’m right? 

Eris realized his mistake as soon as he read the words and felt himself pale. This was getting too close to what he had spent so much of his life avoiding. His spine stiffened defensively. 

I’m going to bed. Get your little pest out of here.

The tail of the shadow wrapped around Eris’ wrist and squeezed. It was cold and trembling like Eris had offended it and he felt an immediate pang of guilt toward the creature. Before he could reach out and attempt to stroke it in apology, Azriel began to write. 

Just tell me and I will leave you alone . 

Sweet dreams Shadowsinger. 

A small smile had returned to his face as he nudged the shadows around his wrist. It wasn’t solid and his hands poked right through it but it seemed as though it could feel the touch. He tickled it and felt a shiver run through his hand unable to tell if that was the shadow’s reaction, or someone else’s. The reply came quickly but each letter was written slowly and with such care it almost felt as though Azriel were whispering it to him, perhaps with a smile on his face as well.

Goodnight Eris. 

Goodnight Eris. 

Azriel took his time, carefully writing each letter just to make sure Eris felt his intentions. When he was finished he shook the shadow off his hand and exhaled harshly slumping back in his chair. All of this felt insane but after the artwork he stumbled on earlier it became impossible for him to stay away. 

A part of him assumed it would feel strange that Eris had been thinking about him so much, but the opposite had been true. If anything, Azriel was slightly irritated that the male seemed to be thinking of him just as much, if not more, than Azriel had been dreaming of him. Yet, there had been no word from Eris at all this past month. 

Azriel could no longer deny how he felt and any lingering guilt he might have had for pursuing something his family might hate him for no longer mattered as a resolve settled over him. This was the first thing he had found himself wanting in a long time and he wasn’t about to give that up. Not for his family, not for his court, not for anything. 

As the Spymaster, Azriel had given himself over to his High Lord and his court for centuries, he was due to take something for himself. Even if that something was Eris, he would see it through because he was chasing a feeling that he wasn’t sure he had ever felt before. That alone seemed worth it. 

It was a long time before he could fall asleep that night, and when he did, his dreams were filled with supple touches from pale fingers and fire-hot breath along his skin. 

By the time Azriel woke, he was once again covered in sweat. His body was overheated and his wings were trembling from an imaginary caress. 

Not even when Azriel had been young had his wings been this sensitive. The more time went on and the more scar tissue he built up, the less he could feel. The changes in wind speed and direction as well as large temperature fluctuations had never been a problem for him. What he couldn’t feel, his shadows alerted him of, making flying a breeze once he finally got the hang of it. 

For him to feel this wrung out from a dream, scared him. He shot out of sleep with a gasp and sat up in bed. One hand was clawing at the center of his chest like removing the heart from his body was the only way to find relief. 

Legs twisting in the sheets, Azriel couldn’t keep still.  He threw himself back onto his pillows with a whine. Everywhere the fabric from his bedding touched him sent sparks of red hot need straight to his cock. When the sheets slipped off his chest and scraped along his sensitive nipples Azriel thought he was going to make the mountain shake from the rumble of his moan. 

Something was wrong with him; never in his life had he needed to release this badly. His dream started to come back to him in pieces then, just flashes of pale skin and red hair at first.  Then it was the sinful press of petal soft lips on his neck and gentle fingers trailing down the bones in his wings. It was too much and not enough. The memories of moments that had never happened were so intense it was almost as if he could feel Autumn's magic running over his skin. 

Only, it wasn’t and he desperately needed the real thing. With a strangled gasp, Azriel flipped over on his stomach and snapped his wings open hoping the cool air in the house would help him find relief. The friction from the mattress against his front helped but he needed more. A scarred hand wrapped around his weeping cock and pumped hard enough to hurt. Again and again, he punished himself in hopes of sating the overwhelming lust wreaking havoc on his body. 

Every pump into his hand hurt and brought him closer to the edge. He writhed, ass sticking up in the air before plunging into his hand toward the mattress over and over again as he worked himself into a frenzy. The only sounds he was capable of making were keening whines ripped straight from his throat. Eventually, Azriel was nothing but a panting, slobbering mess and he didn’t have it in him to worry about whether or not he was being too loud. All he cared about was coming as many times as it took to make the fever subside. 

Broken grunts bracketed his orgasm as Azriel’s hips shook and stuttered, his hand wringing out the last drops of hot come that was dripping down his knuckles. 

A moment of peace followed, the House sending in a gust of cold air across Azriel’s back and brow, helping him to steady his breath.  

“Fuck.” 

Impossibly, Azriel could feel himself starting to get hard again. He jumped from the bed with a groan and fumbled around for a pair of pants. Hastily tugging on the ones he had stepped out of just a couple of hours before and left crumpled next to his bed, Azriel took a deep breath and walked to the window. It was a few more steps out onto his balcony where the wards snapped around him. Now out in the frigid air, he gulped it down and without a second thought, leaped from the ledge. He flapped his wings hard to get airborne, but the cold air was still not enough to cool him down.  

Azriel flew fast and hard, over the mountains, across the Sidra, and back up again. Looping around and around, trying to clear his head but nothing was working. Just as he thought his body temperature was starting to regulate, Azriel would start flying slower, taking lazy, slow sweeps with his wings. The beating sound of them would lull him into a trance where his dreams would have a chance to catch back up to him, starting the cycle over again. 

He was nearly an hour into this pattern when his shadows had had enough and swarmed him. He felt himself pass between worlds and when he was spit out again, Azriel saw a familiar landmark below. 

With a giant flap of his wings, Azriel landed softly in the clearing he normally met Eris in. He was just about to demand the shadows take him back when someone cleared their throat behind him and Azriel froze. 

“Eris?” His lips formed the male’s name before he could stop himself and Azriel spun around, finding that his body responded to the male’s presence before his mind could catch up. No longer was he itchy in his skin and the fever in his blood seemed to have calmed slightly too.

Eris didn’t move and something about the way he was standing was putting Azriel on edge. The other male was stiff and turned away from him slightly like he might try and flee any second. Azriel couldn’t have that. Like he was cornering a wild fox, the Shadowsinger shuffled his feet slowly until he was fully facing Eris, both hands out slightly in a placating position. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked lamely. Inside, he was shaking and cursing himself for being ridiculous, and he hoped that he looked a bit calmer on the outside. Without him noticing, several of his shadows had reached Eris and were now experimentally crawling up the legs of his sleep pants. Azriel watched them as they traveled higher; he wasn’t sure Eris was breathing as they moved over him. 

The right thing to do would have been to call them back and get out of there as fast as possible but the higher they went, the harder it was to look away. Like black ink, they puddled in the divots of his slightly exposed collarbones, some of them winding in circles around Eris’ neck like a collar. A breeze kissed his skin and Azriel realized how exposed he was. 

It had been an impulse to jump out of his room into the sky, and he did so after slipping on only a pair of pants. He had no shoes or shirt and felt utterly vulnerable without his blade or siphons. Instinct told him he was in a bad position without them, especially in front of someone like Eris who could subdue Azriel if he wasn’t careful. Somehow though, Azriel didn’t think that was on Eris’ mind at all. The only thing that seemed to be on Eris’ mind was memorizing how Azriel’s chest moved with the rise and fall of his every breath. 

This put Azriel at ease enough that he found himself wanting to have a little fun. 

“No more than you, it seems,” Eris replied after glancing up to see Azriel’s smirk and shaking himself of the need to stare. He crossed his arms haughtily over his chest and looked pointedly away. 

This only made the smirk on Azriel’s face grow wider. “No need to be a brat. What are you doing here?” Here of all places, he added silently.

Eris stole a side glance at Azriel before rolling his eyes and dropping his arms back down to his sides. 

“It’s like you said,” Eris swallowed. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“And you came here?” Azriel’s voice came out lower than he had intended but he had drawn near enough to the other male that he was easily heard. 

“So did you.” Eris nearly whispered, his eyes glowing. 

“Well, ready for another go then?” He flapped his wings and watched as strands of red hair, kicked up by the wind he made, fell across Eris’ nose. Azriel’s hand rose to tuck them away behind a pointed ear before he realized what he was doing but Eris was faster and brushed the hair aside before Azriel could reach it. Azriel let his hand fall back down to his side, amused at the slight blush blooming across Eris’ freckled skin.

“I-” The Shadowsinger delighted in the way Eris’ pupils dilated as he stretched his wings out behind him, silencing the male. Not to be outdone, Eris’ face hardened and he smirked at Azriel when their eyes met. One of his hands came up between them and with a slender finger pointed upward, he twirled it, signaling for Azriel to spin around. “Well, go on then.” He demanded and Azriel obeyed, turning his back on the prince. 

Azriel spread his wings out again and waited for Eris to make his choice. As if he were in a hurry, Eris touched a spot near his right talon before Azriel could tease him about anything like he had intended to do. 

The Shadowsinger inhaled sharply at the sudden contact. “No.” 

A petulant huff sounded from the male behind him and Azriel chuckled. 

“Turn around,” Eris demanded, and again, Azriel obliged. 

“It’s on this side isn’t it?” He asked and Azriel shrugged. There was a little, irritated growl that sounded from the back of Eris’ throat and Azriel’s skin itched as he swallowed a reaction to it. 

“Go ahead.” Azriel offered, not caring anymore about the fact that Eris was technically out of guesses. 

Eris took a step back. Left hand cradling his right elbow, Eris brought a fist to rest under his chin, approaching Azriel’s wing with an academic’s gaze. Lost in thought, the male began nibbling at his thumbnail.

Cute. 

Time became abstract as the air changed around them, growing charged. Deep in thought, Eris stood so still Azriel was afraid time had stopped completely, leaving him in a suspended state of anxious arousal. He should be more worried than he was that Eris could probably smell his desire. They were close but could be closer. 

Incrementally, Azriel curled in his wing, shifting it closer and closer, closing Eris in. At first, Azriel was sure the male didn’t even notice that he was being herded. The moment he did, his spine stiffened just enough not to be noticeable to anyone who wasn’t watching as closely as Azriel was. Azriel felt a sick sense of accomplishment seeing the heir trapped between his body and his wing. 

“Have you decided?” Azriel asked. His voice was rough in the quiet of the wood. 

Without answering or turning to him, Eris reached out and traced along the top of Azriel’s wing from the base at his back to the tip of his talon. 

It was a slow caress with only the tips of his middle two fingers gently running along the length. Azriel couldn’t tell if he was teasing or being polite but if there was one thing he knew about Eris from going head to head with him over the years, the male wasn’t polite. 

He poked lightly at the spot just below the talon when he finished his trek. Then he waited. Azriel forgot for a moment how to speak. Knowing he wouldn’t find any sensitive spots taking that route, Azriel had let himself fall into a trance, watching Eris’ profile as the male concentrated on his movements. The red of his hair shone silver in the moonlight and Azriel wanted to wrap it around his fist and tug. 

The spymaster cleared his throat. “No. Try again.” 

Not waiting to see if Azriel was ready, Eris took all five of his fingers and gently raked them down the membrane's outermost section. Azriel shivered. 

“No. Again.” He rasped. He knew he was radiating with want but Eris seemed content to ignore it so Azriel tried to retain a calm exterior even if he was screaming on the inside.  

The second section was treated much the same, though Eris grazed a bit slower. When he was finished, the insufferable male hovered his hand, fingers still curled in like claws, over the innermost section of Azriel’s left wing. There was a pause where Azriel thought Eris might start touching him again without asking. He braced himself for the strange sensation, letting his eyes fall closed. When it never came he opened them, lids still heavy, and found a pair of amber eyes staring back at him, waiting for permission. 

Azriel’s mouth dried out at the expression on Eris’ face. He swallowed thickly and nodded a nearly imperceptible movement. He wasn’t sure he had moved at all until Eris’ fingers touched his wing once again. 

It was the oddest feeling since there was supposed to be little to no sensation left. When Eris touched them though, it was like Azriel could feel every ridge on the male’s fingerprints. The world was waking up around him, and things were stirring inside of him that he had never thought he would be capable of feeling. 

Finished, Eris stood as still as stone, waiting. Azriel hardly noticed, too wrapped up in his revelations.

“N-No.” Azriel cleared his throat, unable to say anything else. 

As if he had been reading Azriel’s thoughts, Eris whispered, “You’ve been lying to me shadowsinger. I think you might be more sensitive than you let on.” 

Azriel was quick to shake his head but he had to force words from his throat.

“I haven’t.” He managed, voice a strained whisper. “Yet, for some reason when you… Never mind. “ He tried to continue but his throat felt constricted. All he could manage after that was a tiny squeak as his words dried up. 

“No,” Eris said, turning until he faced the male more fully. “Tell me.” The demand made Azriel’s knees buckle.

Silence surrounded them, the forest holding its breath to see what might happen next. 

“For some reason,” Azriel finally went on. “When it’s … you…” He curled his other wing around until it was within an easy touching distance from the prince. 

“When it’s me…?” Eris prompted, raising a hand to ghost over part of the wing, which was now curled around him like a shield. 

Azriel closed his wings a little more, cocooning them both inside. “Eris,” Azriel begged, knowing his breath must have been hot on Eris’ neck because of how red it was turning. Eris was facing away from him now, his full attention on the other, untouched wing. 

Like a secret, there was a small smirk blooming in the corner of Eris’ mouth, evidence of his interest, enough for Azriel to know that it was ok to keep pushing forward. He wrapped his wing around them both tighter, forcing Eris’ hand against the soft membrane. The Shadowsinger shivered at the contact.

With his forgotten wing, Az pulled back enough to run his talon along the back of Eris’neck. Eris arched into the touch.

“Azriel.” He warned but to Azriel’s ear, it sounded more like a plea. 

He took a step forward and Eris turned to him with wide eyes.

“Azriel?” He repeated much less sure of himself than he was a moment ago. The fear etched into his eyes was delicious. 

The Shadowsinger responded only by taking another small step toward Eris, forcing the male to either lean into him or step back. Eris chose to step back with a hard set to his jaw. For a moment, Azriel was afraid he had ruined whatever had been threading between them but after all these years, he could easily recognize the way a mask slipped over Eris’ skin. Azriel would just have to do his best to pry it back off.

“What are you doing?” Eris spat as if the last few minutes hadn’t happened at all. 

“Playing a game,” Azriel responded. Darkness laced every word as shadows dripped from his hair and billowed from every step like smoke. He reached back out with a talon and slid it along Eris’ jaw. The other male jerked away from the touch, marring his porcelain skin with a scratch. 

Blood welled up in ruby droplets like pomegranate seeds and Azriel wanted to lick them away. One more step and he would have Eris against a tree, trapped beneath him. 

Azriel took that last step and tucked a talon under the male’s chin which was already pointed up in the air as if he were entirely unaffected by the Shadowsinger’s advancements. Azriel leaned down over him, letting his exhale travel up the length of that pale neck to the tip of Eris’ pointed ear where he murmured against the soft flesh of his lobe. 

“And you won.” A rich, salted flavor hit the tip of his tongue, and he let it slide out to indulge in the tiniest taste of the heir. Maybe, if this was all he got, it would be enough to fuel a century's worth of dreams. Eris tasted like every flavor of Autumn that Azriel could make his imagination conjure. If that’s what he experienced with such a small bite, anything more was likely to kill him.

Eris reared back, his head colliding with the trunk of the tree. “What?” He exclaimed, clearly fighting the urge to rub the sore spot on the back of his head. 

“I said, you won.” Azriel was pleased to find how flushed he was when he finally pulled away. He smirked at the male who was glaring at him, unimpressed. Like he couldn’t help himself, Azriel drew closer until he was able to nose lightly at the hollow of Eris’ throat.  Azriel felt Eris swallow as he worked his way up, letting his nose nuzzle so lightly against the smooth skin of his jaw, then his cheek that he wondered if he were touching Eris at all. The heir’s scent was overwhelming him as Eris had not bothered to hide it any longer. Frustratingly, he wasn’t giving in either. 

Small wins, Azriel told himself. He would take one tiny piece of Eris at a time until he had collected every touch, every sound, all of him. 

“Name your prize.” The words fell from him, no more than a small breeze from his lips to Eris’ where they remained but a breath away from one another. Just a bit more, and they would be connected but something held him back. He wanted Eris to make that final leap and prove to Azriel that this wasn’t a dream. 

Instead, the brat winnowed away and Azriel was left with cold air on his lips where there had been warm breath before. 

At the loss of the body underneath him. Azriel stumbled forward a step, his forehead nearly colliding with the trunk of the tree. 

Azriel whipped around to see Eris, several feet away, clutching at his tunic with a wild look in his eyes. He tried to be thankful that at least the mask seemed to have vanished from Eris’ face. It was now left open and vulnerable. The Shadowsinger took a step, letting his shadows help him close the distance so that he was only inches away from Eris once again. Azriel’s eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled the scent of the other male, heady and strong. 

Instead of winnowing away again, Azriel felt Eris’ warmth as he leaned into him, like the prince too, couldn’t help it. Tiny hairs along Azriel’s arms and face stretched out, reaching to make contact with Eris’ skin. All parts of him, conscious and not, wanted that taste of Autumn. 

The gentle approach was important to Azriel. Deep down, he knew Eris didn’t mean most of the things he said but he so desperately wanted to show the male that he was anything but the brute Eris accused him of being. If he had known it would give Eris time again to reconsider, he might have let his desire take over. Azriel just didn’t know if he would be able to hold back once he started.   

Just as their lips began to touch, Eris exhaled a word against Azriel. He was so caught up in the feel of those lips on his that it took him more time than he would ever admit to realize what happened. Eris had cursed under his breath and winnowed halfway across the clearing again. 

“Stop doing that!” Azriel whirled around to lock eyes with Eris who was trying very hard to regain his composure. 

“You- stay over there,” Eris demanded with a huff. He was out of breath like he had run for miles. It gave Azriel a sick sense of pride to see how undone he was before Azriel had even really touched him. 

“Alright. Just… I won’t touch you, just stop running.” Azriels heart was heavy and thudded painfully in his chest, making movement and speech difficult. Every pump felt like the blow of a blacksmith’s hammer on their anvil, Azriel was being reforged. 

A skeptical raise of Eris’ brow told Azriel that he didn’t believe the bat in the slightest but… he wasn’t moving either. Small wins . Azriel reminded himself. 

He stepped cautiously forward but it wasn’t fast enough for his meddling shadows. In a blink, both males were face to face, a whisper apart in the middle of the clearing. The shadows transported them both and disappeared again so fast that Azriel and Eris were both left a little breathless.

In this spot, the moonlight was a concentrated beam of light. It hung down between heavy curtains of clouds, bathing them in a wash of silver.

Azriel raised his hands in supplication and said quietly, “It wasn’t me. I promise.” Eris’ nostrils flared in disbelief but he stayed put. 

He couldn’t help but smile, the sight of this extraordinary male in front of him making him feel slow and syrupy. All thoughts eddied out of his head when he took in how the moon made Eris glow, almost like a god. Unfortunately for Azriel, his god was not benevolent. 

Without meaning to, Azriel leaned in. He promised he wouldn’t touch Eris, and he would hold to that, but if he could make it easier for Eris to close the distance… 

A warning growl purred in the back of Eris’ throat as Azriel leaned in and the Shadowsinger quickly pulled away with an annoyed huff like a child. 

“I don’t know why I feel this way. Eris, I’ve never needed anyone as badly as I need you now so, please…” Not above begging, Azriel adjusted himself. His cock was straining painfully against the fabric of his pants and he was near panting from the amount of heat built up inside of him. 

The admission was a low rasp in the minimal space between them. Eris whined, hearing the words and Azriel was quick to drink the sound in, inhaling sharply to swallow it all down. A bright crimson stain colored Eris’ cheeks as he realized what sound he had made. Eyes going wide, the male quickly turned away, ducking from Azriel’s hands as they tried to keep him close. 

To appear as unaffected as possible, Eris smoothed out his hair and his clothes but he couldn’t completely hide the tremble in his hands. “Is it too much to just admit that you’re attracted to me? Does it have to be some big mystery?” He said quietly, almost as if he was hurt by Azriel’s words. 

“This is something else and you know it. I know you feel it too. The drawings, Eris?” His bare feet crunched along the ground as he took a step forward, wings circling him. 

“I happen to be able to appreciate beauty, even if it comes attached to such an oaf,” Eris said with some amusement. “That doesn’t mean-”

Azriel let out a breathy laugh and moved closer, caging Eris in. “You think I’m beautiful? So that’s the only reason you are obsessing–?”

“I’m not obsessing over anything.” Eris insisted, turning his nose up in the air. Even from behind him, Azriel could tell what kind of petulant face he was making and when it softened to something more playful. “You’re just, somewhat forbidden Shadowsinger.” He added with an amused lilt. “It’s exciting. That’s all.” 

“What’s exciting? Me? Or the game?” Azriel made to place his hands on Eris’ waist and turn him around.

“The game,” Eris answered.

As Azriel’s fingers hovered over Eris’ hipbones, a white-hot burst of magic encased his skin and compelled him to his knees. It didn’t hurt but it was so overwhelming that he couldn’t see through the tears gathering in his lashes. 

Eris flinched but didn’t turn around, as if he knew what he would see when he looked into Azriel’s eyes. 

“Well… and that too.” He amended almost casually. 

Azriel couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t completely comprehend what was happening to him. 

“You’re -” He rasped, unable to form the rest of what he so desperately needed to confirm. 

“I’m your mate, Azriel,” Eris said with a sigh like it wasn’t shattering Azriel’s soul just to hear the word. It wasn’t out of cruelty though, only nervousness which was easier for Azriel to spot now that he had spent some time learning the male’s new tells. “And before you say anything…”

Azriel wasn’t sure what Eris thought he was going to be able to say. The Shadowsinger could barely take in a breath past the magic breaking him apart. 

“Eris,” Azirel tried, but it came out as barely whisper. 

The Prince ignored him and began to talk. The anxiety in his voice called to Azriel, begging him to rise, to go to the Autumn male. “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I can’t give you what you need without strings attached. We can’t … I can’t do this.”

Azriel blinked and even the shadows had grown as still as the forest around them. Mate. The word clanged through him like temple bells, loud and obtrusive. He could barely make out the rest of what Eris had to say as he started to ramble on. With his masks stripped away, the male was more vulnerable than Azriel had ever seen him.  

“I wanted-” He started and stopped several times, twisting his fingers into knots as he tried to explain himself. Azriel wished he could tell him not to bother, he just needed Eris to look at him. “The playfulness, the friendship, I needed you to come by that on your own. To know if it was something you were ever capable of… with me. I thought I had more time and could do this properly but Rhysand forced my hand.”

As the words settled on Azriel’s shoulders he slowly raised his eyes to find Eris’ amber stare waiting for him. 

“Mate.” He repeated dumbly as if Eris hadn’t said anything else at all. The word felt foreign on his tongue. It was unfamiliar but not unpleasant. “I’m your… you’re my …” 

“Mate yes … “ Exasperation in Eris’ voice somehow calmed Azriel as much as it annoyed him. It was an injection of something normal into a conversation that shouldn’t be happening between him and Eris Vanserra at all. Azriel followed Eris’ words with a frustrated growl as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Between them, it was. 

“And Rhys knew?” Azriel asked carefully, making sure he understood. Now that he was back on his own two feet, all of what Eris had said came into focus.

Eris nodded. “He needed to be assured that I was serious about this alliance. When he asked for collateral-”

“You offered up your mate.” Azriel stared off past Eris, his thoughts racing. He wasn’t necessarily accusing Eris of anything but he knew that’s what it sounded like. 

In the silence, Eris’ resolve seemed to snap. He was flexing his hands and curling them into fists over and over where they hung down next to his thighs. Azriel’s focus fell on those uncharacteristically nervous movements as Eris began speaking again, falling over his words. 

“This one thing, I had always promised to keep for myself.” The words came out quietly, almost sad. His jaw clenched as he ground his teeth together. It was like he was trying and failing to rebuild the walls around himself that kept him safe all of these years from exactly this. How many years had he been holding on to this secret? 

Azriel lifted his hand and hooked a finger under Eris’ chin to force their eyes to meet. There wasn’t much thought behind the movement, he just couldn’t withstand this alone. Azriel wanted those golden cores on him again, and the unwavering stare seemed to steady them both. 

“Don’t mistake me,” Eris’ breath shuddered out of him. “The bond provided me a way to get what I wanted. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to get what I want…” Azriel snorted derisively, but Eris didn’t seem put off by it. No, rather, the corner of his mouth kicked up ever so slightly in response. 

“It was pure selfishness that kept me from using the bond as leverage before now.” He continued. “I’m not… good Azriel but … but I thought that having this connection to someone who was good, might allow me to pretend sometimes that I could be. As long as I was the only one who knew about it, it could stay this precious thing that no one could ruin.” An owl hooted somewhere in the distance and Eris chased the sound, turning himself around toward the trees and out of Azriel’s grasp. 

The shadows shook themselves of whatever stupor they had fallen into and started to crawl all over the Autumn lord in Azriel’s place. They started at his wrists, jumping from Azriel’s arms to Eris’ and threaded their way from one male to the other, bridging them together and he used it as a guide, feeling for the connection between them. 

He wanted to say something, anything but when he opened his mouth to try, Eris continued. 

“As I suspected, the moment your High Lord knew about the bond he made it clear I was undeserving. Nothing he ever said or insinuated was anything I hadn’t already thought of or known myself but … I couldn’t pretend anymore.”

The fire that had ignited in Azriel during their game guttered, and he knew if he could see his eyes in the mirror, whatever fragile light they were now carrying had all but snuffed out entirely. Each of Eris’ words fell heavier on his heart than the last and he was no longer sure whose pain he was feeling. 

“I-” Azriel started, choking on his words. Eris looked back at him, the edges of his eyes were burning, rimmed in red from trying to hold back his emotions and the fire inside of the Shadowsinger began to rage. 

The pull of their connection was beginning to overwhelm him again and Azriel’s bare feet shuffled forward. He watched as the Autumn male turned away and took another step toward him anyway. Each movement was labored and thankfully, it didn’t take long to close the space between them. 

“Out of nowhere, he demanded I tell you the truth.” He admitted. 

“Those papers he had me give to you?” Azriel asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer. 

Eris sighed. “Your High Lord is trying to bait me into an agreement. We’re due to move on Beron soon and -”

“What?” Azriel interrupted, placing a hand on Eris’ shoulder. 

“The papers are lists. Details and requests for what it might mean when you learn the truth and decide to leave your court. As it turns out, I’m not the only one who uses the things I care about for political gain.” A humorless laugh fell from Eris’ lips. 

“I- I didn’t know the plans for your court were moving so soon.” Azriel removed his hand from Eris and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. He was furious that Rhys would keep something like this from him, but he would deal with his brother later. 

“Well, that was by design. Rhysand wanted assurances from me, compensation if you will, for stealing his Spymaster before anything else was done.” Eris spoke the words as if they were poison on his tongue. 

Azriel growled in response. “He wanted-” 

“I told him to fuck off.” A smile curved on Eris’ lips. “I should be the last one to defend Rhysand but I can tell you that it was not his place to tell you of the bond.” 

“I don’t care about that.” Azriel insisted. 

“Even so, he and I entered a bargain before I told him. It was the only way I could think to protect you and this bond from further scheming. He is still bound to it.” 

“Alright,” Azriel said quietly. 

A soft wind blew through the clearing, kicking up leaves and swirling them around their ankles. Azirel could feel his shadows dancing with them as he raised a surprisingly steady hand. The tips of his fingers brushed the hair from Eris’ nape as he allowed himself to fully encompass the male’s space. Eris let him do it. 

Scarred fingers trailed along each shoulder and down the backs of Eris’ arms until they were resting in the palm of the fire lord’s hands. The heir’s fingers curled in slightly, creating little cradles for Azriel’s hands. It was as if Eris wanted to hold Azriel but was unable to. 

Azriel gently turned the male around until they were face to face and took a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him. During the day, Eris was all sharp angles and an even sharper tongue. The midnight glow turned him into another creature entirely and Azriel wondered if he could make Eris sing as softly as the look now in his eyes. 

The Shadowsinger knew when his scent changed because Eris’ nostrils flared and he tensed. Rarely had the male ever bent before Azriel but now he looked smaller somehow. Being able to stoke Azriel’s anger usually gave him the upper hand but tonight, he was unraveled and the Shadowsinger had every intention of taking full advantage. 

Like a fox caught, Eris froze as Azriel advanced. Before he could lean in too far, Eris surprised him and brought a hand up to cup his face. 

Eris inhaled, and the pull of breath into his lungs seemed to edge him forward. It was like he could no longer help but lean into Azriel’s orbit. Leather and whiskey were a delicate touch against Azriel’s senses, and he closed his eyes to appreciate them fully. 

Their shared arousal hung heavy in the air, making it hard to breathe. Azriel was determined to wait for Eris to make the first move, no matter how long it took. Though he was pretty sure if he had to wait too long, he would go mad. 

As he opened his eyes, lids still heavy, Eris swallowed. Azriel tracked the movement as he bent down to nose at the column of Eris’ neck, taking in his intoxicating scent. The touch was featherlight against Eris’ skin but the firelord burned hot for it, almost gasps puffing quickly in and out of his chest. 

Eris couldn’t quite contain the small noise he made as Azriel worked himself up toward the soft spot behind Eris’ ear, and again as Azriel traveled across his high cheekbone, then to the corner of his mouth. It was somewhere between a whine and a sigh, but not quite either. When Azriel lifted his face away from the prince's just enough to look him in the eyes once again, there was a moment when Azriel was sure that Eris was going to run away again. That was not what happened. 

Amber's eyes glowed where they met his hazel, and even in the low light of the moon, Azriel could see that there was a deep blush staining every place Azriel touched as if he had done it with his knife instead. Eris seemed to be working through a question in his mind and when he finally found the answer, Azriel wasn’t ready. 

He watched the last of Eris’ walls crumble. There was a small intake of breath, which could have been a gasp if it had been a little louder, and then Eris was surging forward. Their lips collided and stars burst in Azriel’s vision. He was afraid he would pass out from the euphoria of finally getting to properly taste the male in front of him. 

As their lips pressed together, Azriel felt himself quake with want. It was so different from his dream and nothing he could have prepared for. His taste was rich and all-consuming, and Azriel wanted to eat him alive. 

The sweetest sounds offered themselves up between those normally vicious lips and Azriel turned greedy. If he didn’t get more of Eris in the next few seconds, he would go mad. 

Once the damn broke, things moved quickly. They were no better than two beasts clawing at one another’s clothes until the fabric lay in shreds and cinders around the clearing. At first, Azriel had been so surprised that he fell back a few steps, only stopping when his back hit the trunk of a tree. 

The noise he made might embarrass him later once he had time to process everything. Right then, the only thing that mattered was tasting more of Eris and finding out which parts of him were the sweetest.

He was a drug and Azriel was already addicted. If he didn’t stop to breathe, Azriel knew he was going to pass out. There was no chance he could go back to any sense of normal after this but that was a problem for later. He cradled Eris’ face in both hands and slowly pried him off. Eris’ protested whines were so delicious that Azriel thought he might come in his pants just from those noises alone. As it was, he could already feel the wet spot from where his cock was weeping.

He pulled away and thumbed lightly along the high points of Eris’ cheekbones where the blush was the prettiest. Heavy-lidded eyes containing the purest gold just behind them looked to him for comfort and Azriel smiled. Eris closed his eyes and nuzzled into Azriel’s touch, it did funny things to his stomach. 

Tomorrow would come with its consequences but he wasn’t going to let a moment of this night go to waste. Eris opened his eyes a sliver and Azriel watched his breath pant out of him. Lips, swollen from their kiss parted slowly, and Azriel tried to memorize the exact shade of pink they had turned. 

“Slow down,” Azriel whispered.

 Eris was not as delicate as Azriel. He closed the distance between them with a hard kiss, taking Azriel’s lower lip between his teeth and biting down hard. Azriel bucked up into him on instinct, his growl tearing through the forest. 

Licking Azriel’s blood from his lips with the tip of his tongue, Eris smirked as he pulled away. He stared down at the wound with greedy hunger in his eyes. Slowly, his gaze met with Azriel’s once again.

“You asked me to name my prize.” He said firmly. “This is what I want.” 

Eris leaned forward as if to kiss Azriel again but the Shadowsinger sidestepped him with a feral grin that promised retaliation. In one swift move, Azriel was behind his mate and had the prince’s arm twisted at his back while pressing his body against the trunk of the tree. 

“I know,” Azriel said against Eris’ ear, delighting in the shiver that ran through that strong body beneath him. They were stripped down to their undershorts and Azriel was careful not to press his body fully against Eris’. He wanted this to last and knew he would come too quickly if he pressed close. 

All of this male called to Azriel in a way that made his dreams look pedestrian. Reality was obsessive and cruel. Dreams could never really capture what Eris Vanserra looked like, bare and trembling before him, what he smelled like when he was ready to devour Azriel whole. 

Azriel took a scarred hand and brushed Eris’ long red hair from the back of his neck. When his lips pressed against Eris’ nape, the male let out a low, wanting sound that thrummed against Azriels lips. 

“Be patient for me… yeah?” He whispered, waiting for Eris to answer him before he continued. A barely perceptible nod of the Autumn male’s head was all the permission Azriel needed. His hands traveled down the broad expanse of Eris’ back until they found the subtle, natural divots of Eris’ hips where they settled. Fingerpads dug into the soft white flesh just enough to be noticeable as Azriel’s lips worked their way down his spine. 

When he could go no further without getting on his knees, Azriel dropped to them without much thought. He wasn’t going to let his meal go to waste. 

“Azriel.” Eris gasped as Azriel’s fingers dug in a little harder into his hips then slid down to the hem of his undershorts. Every inch of movement was orchestrated to last as long as possible but the lower Azriel pulled the other males’ shorts, the hungrier he got. 

The fabric slid down, catching momentarily on Eris’ hardening cock before easily slipping down his thighs to puddle on the forest floor. Eris moaned at the sensation as Azriel looked up and sighed at the bare body above him. His mate was lean and hard muscled over every inch of his body and the swell of his ass was perfectly round. 

Eris had his forearms against the tree where his head could rest. He was panting, trying not to make a sound while Azriel worked and that wouldn’t do. 

With a devious smile, Azriel slid a hand between Eris’ thighs and they trembled for him. Now, holding Eris’ cock gently in his upturned palm, Azriel pressed a kiss to the dimple in the male’s right ass cheek. Rewarded with a soft moan, Azriel held the head of his mate’s cock gently, pinching it between his thumb and ring finger while using his index finger to paint the tip in the precome already leaking from him. Eris shuddered and whined at the contact, the underside of his balls brushing Azriel’s forearm as the Shadowsinger leaned forward to press a kiss to the dimple in his left cheek.

He squeezed his hand lightly around Eris’ cock, a promise, before pulling away. 

His hands came up to the apple of Eris’ ass and Azriel ran his thumbs up on either side before pulling him open, exposing that tight ring of muscle to him and the cool night air. It pulsed prettily, beckoning him forward, and when he pressed a delicate kiss on it, a zing of magic hit the back of his tongue. 

Azriel smiled, and while still mouthing against Eris’ body, he said, “Just cleaning. I want to open you myself.” Eris shook against him, a whimper of approval leaving his throat as Azriel placed another kiss against him. The Shadowsinger flicked his tongue against Eris’ hole, moaning at how responsive his mate was to the touch.

He flicked his tongue out once more before letting his eyes travel back up to the messy male above him. Alabaster skin was flushed with angry and uneven red splotches and his body writhed through heaving gasps of air. 

“Gods, you’re perfect.” Azriel hummed against him and was immediately rewarded with a whimper from above him. Eris’ knees started to buckle as Azriel dove his tongue inside, barely able to make it past the tight entrance. With one hand, he kept Eris spread for him as he began to open him with the other. Wet with spit, Azriel slipped the tip of one finger inside his mate and licked around the rim. He came away just enough to spit, making it easier to thrust deeper. When all of his finger was inside, Azriel pumped a few times before removing it. Eris whined at the loss but choked on the noise when Azriel wasted no time, diving back in. Thumbs pressed on either side, Azriel gripped Eris’ ass and held him spread open to make it easier to feast. A male starved, Azriel pressed his tongue inside that tight clutch of heat and moaned at the taste. 

This was new for him, all of this was. Never before had he wanted so badly just to take his time and enjoy every single press of himself inside someone else. At the same time, a part of him wanted to throw Eris on his back and wrap his rough hands around that silk-smooth throat again. Almost a mirror image of that High Lord’s meeting, so long ago now. Except this time, Azriel would be buried deep inside him. 

The thought spurred a groan from him and it vibrated against Eris’ eager hole, making him clench around Azriel’s tongue and pushing him out. It made pushing back it all the more desperate. He was chasing so many things simultaneously, a taste, a feeling, all while trying to collect each of Eris’ sounds. Azriel hoped they would burn into his mind so he could replay them over and over when he was alone. 

On his knees in the dirt, far from home and with the taste of his enemy on his tongue, Azriel knew that whatever Eris asked of him, he would do his best to provide. 

“Azriel please,” Eris begged, reaching back and tugging up at the roots of Azriel’s curls. The wings on his back snapped open as Azriel stood to his full height to wrap them around them both. There, he cradled Eris’ garbled pleas and he pushed two fingers into his mouth as he held Eris’ jaw open. Drool wet his hand and wrist as he entered Eris, pushing deeper and deeper until he reached the back of Eris’ throat. The male swallowed around his fingers the best he could with his mouth hanging open. 

Sucking in the air between his teeth, Azriel relished in the feeling of their bodies finally lining up and pressing together. With his undershorts still on, the hard length of his cock twitched against the fabric. In tandem, their bodies rocked together. Eris pressed his ass back into Azriel’s clothed cock, meeting the Shadowsinger’s hips as they rocked forward. 

The pleasure left Azriel feeling weakened and he let his forehead rest against Eris’ nape. The smell of something burning only vaguely registered and when he ground down into Eris a second time, it was flesh on flesh as the rest of his clothing fell away into ash. 

“Ngh.” The sound slipped out from between Azriel’s clenched teeth as the soft warmth of Eris’ body curved into him and fit against him without fuss. At the back of his mind, Azriel realized he wasn’t going to last. Already, Azriel could feel his balls tightening against the pressure of the heat settling inside of him. 

“Eris I need-“ The words came out sloppy and hushed but it didn’t matter. Azriel didn’t even get to finish before Eris pushed back against him and broke the hold Azriel had on him. In a flash of speed, Eris turned in Azriel’s arms. The bright whip of that Autumn hair glittered with silver moonlight as it brushed against Azriel’s cheek, further sending him into a deep stupor. 

Frenzied and rushed, Eris wrapped his arms around Azriel’s neck and pulled him close. That was all the prompting Azriel needed to press his lips against the delicate skin of Eris’ neck and nibble at it with his teeth. Eris sang with praise every time Azriel touched him in the right way, fueling his desire. 

If he were to watch this scene from a distance, Azriel was sure he would only be able to see two flames twisting and writhing around one another. Eris brought one leg up and hooked it at Azriel’s waist so their hips joined and their cocks rested against one another and Azriel’s mind went completely blank. 

Broken whines hitched from Azriel’s throat and filled the night air. They joined Eris’ moans in a dance that mirrored the way their bodies moved together. He hooked his arm under Eris’ leg and cringed inwardly at the juxtaposition of his ugly, rough hands against the smooth, muscled thigh of the Autumn male. When Eris breathed a moan onto his neck, every ugly thought emptied from his head until it was just them again, in this place, their movements like water as they tasted and touched. 

Inch by inch, Azriel moved down to cup Eris’ ass and press him closer. Every little bit more was just as euphoric as it was torture, nothing would ever be enough. The tips of his fingers played delicately with the rim of Eris’ softened hole but it was no longer slick with Azriel’s spit. As desperate as he was, he wouldn’t hurt his mate. 

The Shadowsinger pulled away enough so that it was easy for him to see Eris’ eyes, filled with flames. He brought his hand back up to those rosebud lips, and Eris opened them for him. Azriel’s mouth parted, mirroring the other male’s as he pressed two fingers past the pillow of his mate’s lips. Greedily, Eris’ tongue came out to help draw them in and Azriel closed his eyes against the wet heat of Eris’ body closing around his fingers. 

Once inside, he split them apart and ran them over and under Eris’ tongue, wanting to feel every part of him, growing more and more ready to explore deeper parts of him. Azriel hooked his fingertips to cup as much saliva in them as he could and drew them out. A string of clear, slick spit connected Azriel’s fingers to Eris’ lips as he pulled them away and moved back down to press them against Eris’ hole. 

The heir leaned on him for support as Azriel wet him down the best he could, entering him so slowly with one finger that he could feel those inner walls try to suck him in faster. 

Eris’ breaths came out, heaving as Azriel worked him open first with a single finger and then two. Three proved to be more difficult and just when he was about to give up in frustration and bring his mouth back down on the prince, something thumped down at his feet. 

It wasn’t loud enough to be anything dangerous but the noise startled Azriel enough that he felt a surge of feral protection. Quickly wrapping arms and wings as tightly around Eris as he could, Azriel nearly hissed toward the sound. 

A string of very undignified sounds fell from Eris as he was tossed around and pressed so tightly against Azriel’s naked body that every movement worked the entire length of their weeping cocks. If Azriel pulled away now their stomachs would shine from the precome painted there. 

The shadows picked something up off the forest floor and deposited it into Azriel’s waiting palm. When he realized what it was, he let out a breathy half-laugh. It was a bottle of oil. He had a mind to chastise the shadows for not getting it to him sooner but instead, cursed himself for not asking for it at all.

There was a moment when he was frozen between his protectiveness and his desire but Eris was quick to make the next move, taking the decision out of his hands. From where he was positioned, half cradled against Azriel’s wing, in the Shadowsinger’s arms, Eris reached out with a firewarm palm. He pressed a spot on Azriel’s wing that had him crashing to his knees, unable to breathe. 

There was an undignified grunt from the responsible male as they fell together but it was replaced with gasped moans when Azriel fell on him. The Shadowsinger’s lips and teeth marked every place on Eris’ body they could reach and in his lust-fueled haze, Azriel climbed on top of Eris, bracketing the male’s head between his forearms where they were planted on the ground. 

This is where time must have stopped completely because Azriel found that he couldn’t move. Eris’ hands were resting lazily above his head on a blanket of his wild Autumn hair. It lay in a chaotic pattern around his head like a crown of flames. Those amber eyes were alight with something Azriel wasn’t sure he had ever seen on the male’s face before, a playful mischief. 

What did the most to convince him that this had to be a dream though, was that damn smirk. It was different from every other haughty smile Azriel had ever seen on the male’s face in all their centuries of knowing one another. It was honest and open, sharp with cleverness, not violence. 

“Azriel?” Eris asked in a husky voice. One of his brows raised slightly as he waited for Azriel to catch his breath. 

“You found it.” Azriel returned the smirk basking in the way the rumble of his words vibrated between them. “Though I guess that was obvious.”

“I thought you already said I won?” Eris countered in a whisper-quiet voice as Azriel closed the space between them. He carefully lowered his face until their lips brushed and they were sharing breath. 

“You did.” Azriel licked at the barely parted seam of Eris’ lips and smiled. When he went to do it again, their cocks brushed lightly against each other and both males’ groaned. Eris’ hips jut upward as he arched off the forest floor. Azriel breathed in relief at the feel of them pressed together when he met the male with a slow downward thrust. 

“It’s- It’s your turn.” Eris gasped out, bringing his arms up to trace down Azriel’s body. When he wrapped his hand around Azriel’s cock, the Shadowsinger’s forehead fell into the cradle of Eris’ collarbone. The Autumn male then gave it a full, slow stroke from root to tip, pulling noises out of Azriel that the gods themselves had never heard. He took his time, squeezing out the precome leaking from Azriel and spreading it around the head of his cock with his thumb. 

“For what?” Azriel ground out, whimpering between words.

When Eris didn’t answer right away, Azriel reluctantly pulled away from where he was mouthing at Eris’ throat and searched his eyes. 

“To find,” He began, lacing his fingers through Azriel’s and guiding him down, his body. “ My most sensitive spots.” Azriel groaned as Eris placed the Shadowsinger’s fingers against his hole and rubbed his own on top of them, showing Azriel where he needed him most. 

Soon, with the oil and a blanket of shadows between them and the forest floor to keep dirt off, Azriel was back where he left off with two fingers sliding easily in and out of Eris’ body. He was meticulous and slow, wanting to make sure that every touch he provided dealt only pleasure. His hands had a lifetime of administering pain and he wanted to know they could do more than that. Eris didn’t complain, though he begged and pleaded for more. Azriel was happy to give it to him when he felt safe moving on. Coating his hand in oil, Azriel pressed three fingers inside Eris. The male tensed under the pressure and Azriel paused waiting for him to ask to continue. He didn’t have to wait long to start feeding him more, inch by inch until all three fingers were fully seated inside of Eris. 

The stretch must have burned, but Azriel couldn’t tell. Eris moved his hips like he couldn’t get enough, mewling with every thrust inside. The next words out of Eris’ mouth made Azriel’s heart stop completely. 

“Enough Azriel. Put your cock inside me and fuck me properly.” Eris bucked up into Azriel’s hand and he tried to swallow his surprise. Instead, he choked, and it came out in half a groan. 

The Shadowsinger didn’t take his eyes off his mate as he withdrew his fingers from inside Eris’ body and slicked his cock down with oil. 

“Look at me.” He demanded when Eris closed his eyes as the tip of Azriel’s shock pressed against his waiting and eager entrance. 

That fire-warmed and lust-fueled gaze fell on him and Azriel couldn’t breathe. He gave himself just three seconds to marvel at this moment before pushing inside of his mate. Eris closed his eyes again, a throaty moan coming out of him. 

“Look at me,” Azriel repeated, now half-sheathed. He waited for Eris to adjust to his size before sinker deeper, inch by inch with shallow rolls of his hips. 

Long, nimble fingers grazed over the sensitive spot on Azriel’s wings and he felt a pressure build up in his spine from the delicate touch. Before Azriel could stop him, Eris scratched a nail along that spot and Azriel couldn’t control what happened next. He thrust forward, bottoming out inside of Eris with a guttural cry. Eris screamed out and clutched Azriel’s back with his claws. 

Azriel froze, afraid to move and hurt Eris more. He scarcely breathed, waiting for Eris’ pained breaths to even out and his heart to slow. 

“Why would you do that?” He complained into the side of his mate’s neck. 

“Too… slow.” Eris heaved, pressing his hips up into the male above him. “I’m ok. Just, so full.” He promised and Azriel nodded, not entirely believing him but unable to hold back much longer. 

“Hold on to me.” Eris obeyed, his fingers curling around the base of Azriel’s wings, where they connected to his back. 

Azriel propped himself up on his hands and ground down slowly. He let his mate’s small whimpers of pleasure guide him as rolled his hips, staying buried inside. Strong, milky white legs wrapped around his hips and pulled him impossibly close. Like handles, Eris used his hold on the base of Azriel’s wings, forcing Azriel to continue speeding up his pace. 

In true fashion, the Autumn heir wanted to be in control. As much as Azriel would have liked to make Eris bend and beg for him, he had a greater need to give his mate everything he wanted. Sweeping an arm around Eris’ middle, Azriel picked him up and sat down to settle him in his lap. Eris gasped and threw his head back as the new position allowed Azriel to drive deeper into him. 

Quick to compose himself, Eris looked down at his mate and smirked. All it took was one experimental roll of Eris’ hips and Azriel’s vision nearly whited out. He reached up with one hand and cupped the side of Eris’ face. His hand found the back of Eris’ neck and pulled him in for a slow, agonizingly sweet kiss. They broke apart, the tips of their tongues meeting at the last moment sending sparks radiating down Azriel’s spine. 

Eris was a vision with his red hair draped messily across his shoulders and down his chest and his skin nearly glimmering in the light of the moon. Azriel had to lean back on his hands to appreciate the sight before he passed out. 

They came together while Eris rode Azriel’s cock. It was slow and wanting. Near the end, they were clinging to one another like they might fall away into shadow if they let go. Breathing was a shared experience and their hearts beat in tandem as the golden spool of light that would forever connect their souls flowed around them, tying them together. 

Every emotion that Azriel had been fighting and losing to over the last few months fell on him as he came and he pulled Eris close, sobbing into his chest as his mate held him tightly. Soft, sweet kisses into his hair mixed with the sweet sounds of Eris’ orgasm as hot spurts of Eris’ come coated both their stomachs. Even when they were finished, they didn’t let go, clinging to one another like it was the end of the world. 

It was a long time before they dared to separate. 

Azriel felt like he could have stayed here in the arms of this male until he and Eris both turned to stone. Forever gazing into one another’s eyes, Azriel saw his ruined fingers twisted in those beautiful strands of hair in perpetuity. 

“Congratulations.” The Shadowsinger said sleepily. Though the world around them had gone from midnight to the soft hues of predawn blue, his eyes were heavy. 

“What for?” Eris whispered back just as gently. Azriel had never heard a more perfect sound. It was like the five centuries they had spent tearing each other apart had all been just a way to get at one another’s souls underneath the pain and trauma of their past. 

“Winning.” Azriel grinned, chasing a kiss that Eris scoffed at, and turned away from. 

“It hardly counts.” He countered, clearly annoyed. Now that the high of their coming together was melting into a pretty ever after, Eris had the space to be annoyed again. 

“You didn’t like your prize?” Azriel asked with mock hurt. Eris still refused to look directly at him. 

“Why did you give me so many chances? I would have figured it out on my own.” Azriel could see that he was genuinely irritated he hadn’t won of his own merit and almost laughed out loud. He knew immediately that would be the wrong thing to do. 

“You would have,” Azriel assured him. He was convinced Eris had purposefully missed the spot in question on his second try anyway. 

“So why-” Eris began. His mistake had been turning back toward Azriel to ask. As soon as their lips were close again, Azriel captured him in a kiss, effectively ending his sentence. 

“Maybe, I just really wanted you to win.” He said again, between kisses. Their tongues rolled around each other lazily. “And you were being stubborn.”  

Eris rolled his eyes. “Like you wouldn’t have chased the same ending? The same prize?” He accused, teasing Azriel.  

“Actually no,” Questioningly, Eris’ brows rose high in his hairline and Azriel had a hard time not bursting into laughter at the look on the male’s face. “I was rather hoping I could get you to sneak me some Autumn blackberry tarts as my prize. With Autumn borders being so tightly secured and all, it’s impossible to find them.” Eris’ arms around Azriel stiffened.

“Excuse me,” He started, each word clipped. “All you were going to ask me for wa-” When he noticed the smirk on Azriel’s face, Eris frowned. The Shadowsinger burst out in a peal of laughter so deep and pure that he was almost afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop. It had been many years since he had been able to laugh at something this freely. The prince seemed to think the same. In his surprise, Eris’ mouth parted and a curious look passed over his face. 

Before he knew what was happening, Azriel was flattened on his back with Eris sitting on top of him. He was about to ask what Eris was doing when the male bent over him. The curtain of his mussed-up hair fell around them like a sunset waterfall as he pressed his lips tightly to Azriel’s. Again and again, Eris kissed him, deepening it each time like he was trying to drown in them. 

“Er-” Azriel’s hands came up to splay on the male’s trim waist. “Wha-” He couldn’t get a word out. 

“Again.” Eris managed. “I need to hear it again.” 

“Hear what?”  

“Your laugh Azriel. It’s like I have been waiting my whole life for that sound I-” As he listened to Eris ramble, his words quaking with emotion, Azriel pulled himself up into a sitting position. “I’m sorry I-” 

Azriel surged forward, capturing Eris in another kiss to swallow down the male’s apologies before they could be uttered. “Don’t you dare apologize to me.” 

“Alright,” Eris muttered. He cupped Azriel’s face in the palms of his hands and looked him over with a critical eye. “I won’t.” 

“If you want to apologize for something you can start with how you hid the bond from me. Then we can move on to the list I have been adding to for centuries. Starting with the first time we met, I -”

“Yes, yes, alright.” Eris smiled as he pressed a kiss to one of Azriel’s cheeks and then the other. “I understand. I have caused a great many offenses toward you. How shall I ever make it up to you?” 

Azriel smiled and beckoned for Eris to lean forward. He tucked a section of hair behind his perfectly pointed ear and pressed his lips against that point. “Blackberry tarts.” Azriel teased. “A lot of blackberry tarts.”  

Eris rocked back and stared incredulously at Azriel for some moments before his facade cracked, and he was bursting with laughter. Azriel joined in a few seconds later, wrapping his arms tighter around the male’s waist and pulling him closer. 

“Alright, blackberry tarts, and a lot of them.” Eris agreed. He kissed Azriel again, it was unlike all of the others up to this point, chaste and sweet, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like they had been affectionate with one another for years and had many years of affection left to give. “I’ll even make them myself.” 

Azriel went still, and his breathing stopped entirely. Realizing the implications of what he had so carelessly said, Eris panicked and pulled out of Azriel’s grip to look into his mate’s eyes. 

Whatever he saw there must have reassured him that somewhere between the threats, the game, and the thereafter, Azriel had chosen the path he wanted to take. He wasn’t sure what it would look like or how he would achieve it but Azriel knew, without any doubts, that he belonged here, holding the male he had spent centuries hating and waiting to see what the new day would bring. 

The bond, content to slumber after their activities, thrummed peacefully between them, warm and sweet. Azriel was quick to flip their positions, twisting until Eris was on his back and the first rays of dawn’s light were shining through his wings. 

“Do you mean…You want to acc-” It was hard to finish his thought, scared of the answer. He knew he must look insane with a ridiculous grin and tears lining his eyes but he didn’t care. 

“Yes, Azriel,” Eris said without hesitation. “I don’t know how to make this work but I know I’m tired of doing it without you.” 

When Azriel kissed him again the connection between them seemed to glow. As it burned, Azriel fell back onto his side and touched Eris’s forehead to his own. He didn’t mean to fall asleep but right there, in the middle of a warded clearing, wearing nothing but a soft smile, Azriel felt centuries of tension melting off him and couldn’t fight it. Distantly, he heard the sound of someone humming to him and felt the light pressure of warm hands running up and down his wings as he fell away into a peaceful sleep knowing without a doubt, that he was home.