A Court of Whispers and Song

Chapter 43

He had to remind himself to breathe. How fucking ridiculous was that? But he'd lost the capacity to function with Gwyn standing in the middle of his space in that dress, staring at him wide-eyed and so fucking beautiful.

"Az, where are we?" she asked again, taking a hushed step over the wooden floor toward him.

Deep inhale. One long as hell breath out. Cracking his knuckles, his hands continued to open and close at his sides.

"My apartment."

Her elegant, questioning brow arched over a teal eye. "Apartment?" She cocked her head to the side, the crisp edges of her ginger ponytail skating over her collar. "You've never mentioned an apartment before."

Another long exhale through his nose. His Siphons flared cobalt from his nerves as he removed his leather grips. Az placed his fists behind his back, his rippled fingers fiddling between comforting shadows. His wings shook as he rolled his shoulders.

"No one knows about this place." He swallowed hard, seeking to gain control. "I come here when I need to be alone."

Her mouth parted as Gwyn took a few strides forward, her eyes constantly moving, taking in the sparse apartment. Nothing was decking the walls. Books on military strategy for his drunken days. A worn black leather couch. One low wooden table with a rough finish. A makeshift bar in the corner. Azriel kept some towels and essentials in the adjoining bathing chamber, much needed to rinse off the blood and regret after long nights in the Hewn City's depths. Besides that, he had a change of clothes in his wardrobe and a bed.

That's all.

No food. He seldom ate whenever he'd sulked, binged here. And above all...

With Gwyn's slender finger drifting over the leather sofa arm, Azriel's mind swerved into a dirtier direction than he demanded right now. Later, he hoped, but right now.

Concentrate, his shadows said, billowing over his shoulder, in and out like a wave, tracking his every sigh.

"I cleaned up a bit," he said, cringing. Why the fuck did he say that?

Nerves, his shadows answered. Focus, Shadowsinger.

"So this is your little hidden bachelor pad, then?" Gwyn asked with an uncomfortable smile. Azriel knew all of Gwyn's grins. And that one was embarrassed and timid. A smile withholding questions and insecurities.

He expected what she was considering. "This isn't a fuck pad. I've never brought anyone here, Berdara."

Surprise lifted her eyebrows as Gwyn finally met his eyes. "Never?"

Az shook his head in return. Lowering his gaze, he stepped forward. "Never. No one knows about this place."

"But Cassian said you go away after your...work."

"Even he doesn't know where. No one does. I suspect Rhysand knows being the High Lord." And sometimes the intrusive, busybody prick he was with his daemati powers. "But no one else has ever been here except me."

His shadows stretched and roiled, making hissing sounds as if they were clearing their throats. Azriel rolled his eyes. "And the shadows, of course. But otherwise, you...you are the first, Gwyn."

Surprise crossed over her freckled face as she blinked rapidly. "No one else?"

Another step forward until a minor foot separated them.

Be truthful, Shadowsinger.

"No one else, Gwyn. But especially no other females I bedded."

The redheaded Valkyrie stepped until the toes of their shoes touched. Her face moved to find his eyes. "But you brought me here. Why?"