A Court of Whispers and Song

Bonus Scene #1: CASSIAN POV

Cassian stood proudly beside his brother at the altar, waiting on the females to make their grand entrance. Godsdamn, if the Mother herself emerged from the Cauldron to slap him back in time, he would have been less shocked than when Azriel had asked him—him—to stand up at his wedding. Azriel, the shadowsinger-spymaster-broody-bastard, was getting married. His best friend, his brother, was getting married—and to his own mate's best friend, who Cass had already considered a sister.

Married. Not officially mated. At least not yet, as explained earlier, when he'd helped Az with his tunic.

Perhaps eventually, if that is what she wishes, the shadowsinger had said, staring down as Cassian had finished the top button and fixed his brother's collar as the shadows drifted around them.

And Cassian could not stop his testing, prying ass with, Will that be good enough for you, though?

For even though he knew deep down in his marrow, he had to hear it from his brother's lips. Because a mating bond, unbreakable as it was, was one thing—but matters of the heart were entirely different. For males, the bond was said to be powerful enough to drive one to insanity. But having now experienced the force of both, Cassian dared to say one was more potent to the soul.

Love.

Love was a mythical, ancient beast that sank its teeth and claws deep and swift, always worse to fight against its pull. After all, he had the scars to prove it. So did his beautiful, willful mate.

And perhaps it was his own beloved, fierce female, as if she were whispering in his ear, that he felt the need to confirm Azriel's commitment, his intentions, one last time.

Azriel didn't balk or stumble over his words, words that were truer than any other Cassian had ever heard his brother utter before; The Mother may have given me a mate, but Gwyneth blessed me with her heart. A gift I will never take for granted for however long we have together, bond consecrated or not.

It was a simple yet powerful declaration, and one Cassian had waited centuries to witness.

Because, oh yes, he had prayed for his brother in the past, even all the way back when they'd lived in that Illyrian shithole. Even when they'd despised each other, literally been at one another's throats. Even after, Cassian kept silent about Azriel's boyhood crush on Rhysand's little sister. Even after the whole situation with Mor, Cassian prayed.

Not for his brother to find his mate, though. No.

It was for Azriel to find happiness. Peace.

And from the way the shadowsinger brushed off Cassian's brotherly question of concern at the altar, he too felt it.

Happiness. Peace.

Azriel hadn't flinched, his eyes taking in the entire scene, each face. "Yes. I'm fine."

Even his shadows were stock still, echoing their master's poise. As if they, too, understood the monumental importance of the decision made this eve. As if they were sighing with relief.

And yet Cass still couldn't believe the coolness of the male before him. Not that he expected the battle-tested Spymaster of the Night Court to be nervous or have cold feet, but... "You're so... calm. Like more than your usual aloofness. I have to admit, that's not what I expected, Az."

Az simply snorted.

From their right, light string music suddenly began to play, performed by a traditionally robed priestess in hooded light blue. Roslin stepped up to the altar, a worn book cradled in hand, offering both of them a friendly smile of greeting before turning her attention ahead.