A Court of Blood & Mercy || Elriel Dual POV

Chapter 14 - You're All My Slaves

"What about a game of poker?"

Azriel looked up, skeptical and somewhat unimpressed, toward Cassian who was prodding him with a grin, a blindingly white smile cast toward his brother like a charming fishing lure.

The Shadowsinger had drifted back into Rhysand's liquor lounge, settling against a library cabinet, leaning against the bookshelf with his taut wings pulled in tight. His hand had a white-knuckled grip around a heavy pour of whiskey, and his mind was working furiously to process the moments from only seconds before.

Azriel had been returning from a smoke in the back gardens when his shadows notified him of her presence, as they had been doing all evening; whispering and informing him about her whereabouts and mood as they used to do, all those years ago. If merely being in Autumn for a few days had been excruciating, actually existing in the same house as Elain was nearly unbearable.

It felt as if he was in constant conflict with his body, fighting and commanding his muscles to stay rooted. Because everything within him wanted to launch toward her— to fold her in his wings and protect her frail body from the shrapnel of life. From the very second she descended the staircase, Azriel had made the shocking revelation that Elain was curious— about Azriel.

From the way her eyes raked over his face, to how her heart seemed to increase in speed and her pupils expanded when looking at him or listening to him speak— it was obvious. But bewildering. He had thought he was a forgotten relic of her past, an oddity or strange chapter from before matehood and motherhood.

But maybe he was something else.

And as his feet took him forward into the corridor, he couldn't help but listen for her increased heartbeat again.

She was coming, his shadows told him, and he could either avoid her or tread forward, passing her in the quiet hallway, alone.

And although it may have been wiser to merely winnow from the house and disappear into the ether before he could even scent Elain, fate, or perhaps Azriel's wild instincts, chose for him. His feet pulled forward, hauling him in front of the stampede of emotions with only his emotionless mask as a shield.

But as he stepped out of the shadow and into the moonlit glow of the dark hallway, Azriel could again, feel her eyes tearing into him, as if she could examine and study every fibre of his soul.

"Come on— it could be fun." Cassian's voice burst into Azriel's thoughts, wrenching him back into the present, where Elain had slipped to her bedchamber with her daughter and the Shadowsinger was now considering how to pass the time with the fellow males of the house.

He flashed his gaze up to Cassian, his hand swirling the liquid in his glass as he considered the invitation.

"Sure."

"Eh?" Cassian's brows shot to the ceiling as he bounded up into straight posture, his head whipping toward the High Lord who was lounging near the fire, his long legs crossed at the knees as he rifled through a stack of yellowed documents. "Rhys?"

Rhysand looked up, his charming face clearly set in an expression of reluctant indulgence as he pretended to weigh the offer. Azriel knew it was a show— Rhys never said no to a jovial request from his brother.

Cassian grinned.

"Could be funnnnn." He wiggled his brows, stepping to the center of the room as if he were delivering his finest sales pitch. "We could bet on some real shit."

Azriel's eyes shot to Rhys'. He arched a brow.

"I'll bite." The High Lord offered a sighing smile as if he had been defeated before glancing to the corner of the room where Eris was perched, his back ramrod straight as he thumbed through a leatherbound book. "Eris? Poker?"