Chapter Text
Prologue
Azriel thought that after everything, after all that death and rebirth, nothing could shake him anymore, his emotions were drained. But he had never been so wrong. As his feet took him outside to the gardens of the river house, he felt the earth shift under him, and the world that had seemed muted for days suddenly began to hum the softest melody. All because, in front of him, with her back turned to the door he stood at, stood Gwyneth Berdara.
She was humming, not the world. And as it had been for the last months, his shadows left their hiding spot behind his back to dance to her song. There was a gasp, and she turned to face him. Her big teal eyes, the biggest he had ever seen in his long life, stared at him, and he watched as her shoulders relaxed and her fists unclenched on her sides.
She looked exhausted but healthy. Filth and blood clung to the leathers that were too big for her, and a sense of pride overtook him when he thought about how she’d managed to steal clothes from bigger and stronger opponents. Gwyn seemed fine, but he knew the Blood Rite charged its cost.
“Carynthian,” he whispered in greeting, feeling a lump in his throat.
He wished to run to her, grab her and never let go. But they were friends, new friends, ones that talked all night, trained together in silence, shared fantasies, and even flirted in the dead of night. But never held each other the way he wished to do now.
Gwyn, however, didn’t seem to have the same restraint, as she sprinted to him and launched herself against his body, wrapping her arms so tight around his neck it was hard to breathe. Surprised but relieved, Azriel enlaced her waist and straightened his back, which took her out of the ground. They held each other like that for what seemed an eternity, but for him, it was too soon when she released her hold on him, and he let her slide back on her feet.
“Carynthian,” she said, greeting him back or confirming his statement. Nevertheless, he smiled, big and proud, which caused her to smile back. His shadows felt happy around them, twirling and playing with the tips of her loose braid. “And alive.”
“Thank the Cauldron,” he let out a breath. “Well done, Valkyrie.” His voice came out hoarse but soft.
“Thank you, Shadowsinger,” Gwyn spoke proud but tired.
She seemed happy, but there was a shadow in her eyes, a darkness he recognized as being the horrors of the Blood Rite passing through her mind. He carried that heaviness for months after he became a Carythian, and even after so many years, he felt a sour taste in his mouth thinking of the Illyrians and their savage ways of granting someone the respect of a warrior.
"Will you meet me tonight?" She asked casually as if she was just confirming if the sun rises every morning.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to skip a few meetings of our club.”
“Oh, it’s all right.” She tried to sound supportive, but Azriel knew she was disappointed. To be fair, he was too.
“I’ve been dealing with a crisis in the Continent, and there was no time to figure out how the three of you ended up dragged to the Blood Rite. Now it’s time to do that. I’m sorry.”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. Azriel wondered if she was excusing his absence or the things he would have to do to get the information he needed. Gwyn knew what he did, she heard him explain what kind of monster he was, still she wanted to be his friend, and for that, he would be forever grateful.
“I’ll see you when you come back, then,” she said in a small voice.
He nodded and did something he wished he had done before already. Azriel bent his head toward her and tilted his head, aiming to kiss her cheek. He paused just an inch away from her face and waited. Gwyn closed her eyes and sighed. It was confirmation enough for him, so he closed the distance and felt the softest skin against his lips, even under the sweat and dirt that covered it. Being so close to her, he could count the freckles on her nose if he wanted. And he wanted.
He knew then, the sweetest truth that sang in his heart. Azriel wanted Gwyn like he had never wanted anybody else in his life. It truly was a new thing of lovely beauty between them.