Chapter 39
Arwen tossed and turned well into the night. It was a wonder that Rhysand managed to fall asleep with her constant shifting against the sheets. She sat up, blankets piled in her lap as she hung her head between her knees. There was no apparent reason for her sleeplessness. No nightmares, Rhys was only feet away and it wasn't cold inside. Yet there she sat.
It was lonely in the middle of the night, with nobody but the shadows to talk to and the cabin's creaking wood to answer.
Arwen laid back down, pulling the blanket to her chin and closed her eyes. Then she felt him. It was like something had been invited back into her soul and finally, there was more than just her there. Arwen sat up. The sound followed seconds later. Someone shifting about in the main living space.
Slipping from her bed, she padded across the small room and into the hall. The fire was still alight from the last log she had placed before heading to bed. Just in case Azriel had decided to return that night. And he had. She tiptoed around the corner to peer into the sitting room.
Azriel now sat on the lounge, his back hunched and his wings drooping as though they had been holding his weight in the sky for hours. They might have been. Shadows, both his own and that cast by the fire, danced around him. His skin turned almost burnt orange under the firelight.
Arwen waited until she was sure he knew she was standing there before stepping out of the hall. He didn't look at her, didn't acknowledge her. So she kept walking closer until she stood before the lounge and him. Turning around, Arwen sunk down next to him, her shoulders easing as his scent overpowered any other.
"You came back."
"I didn't want to be away any longer."
His forearms rested braced along his thighs, hands hanging between his knees. She reached for one, skin barely grazing his when he snatched his hand away. Arwen froze, looking into his face to see what signs she had missed where he did not want her there. But there was only a pained furrowing of his brow. Like her touch had hurt him. Azriel dropped his gaze from the fire to the floor.
She reached for him again. This time he did not pull away. Arwen felt the scarring beneath her fingertips and rather than ignore it, she used her thumb to trace the ridges of the marring. Leaning back into the spine of the lounge, she pulled her legs underneath her and then guided Azriel's hand into her lap so she could hold it with both her own. Arwen stretched then furled his fingers, playing with them. Memorising them.
She looked down into her own lap. "What you did today, was..."
"I know." The two words came smooth and low. "But I saw your face when he was holding you. I didn't think, I just moved."
She kept her sigh soundless. As minutes passed between them, the fire the only thing with any sign of movement, Arwen leaned into his side. She rested her cheek on the rounded end of his shoulder. "I don't want to thank you for killing someone," she whispered, "but thank you for... Seeing that I needed help and coming. It's not the first time you've done that for me."
"You're my mate," he simply said, his voice still low and flat. Yet Arwen could read through it like a picture book her mother used to show her as a child. Every image splattered with colour painted before her, every sentence plain and clear. He stared at the glowing hearth. "I'll protect you with my life. Or take the lives of others."
"And if I tell you that's not what I want?" Arwen whispered, tilting her head off his shoulder to observe his answer. The hand in her lap finally started to move. Her eyes slowly fell back down to watch as he lengthened his fingers before enveloping one of hers. Arwen continued watching, enthralled by the way it felt.
Azriel kissed her temple. The light touch felt heavier than any of Cassian's punches. He leant his forehead against her hairline, nose dusting the high point of her cheek. "Then I will stand at your side, unmoving until you give the order."
Arwen closed her eyes, pressing back against him in a search of his warmth. "Mates are equals. I would not have you at my bidding like some trained dog." His fanning breath tickled her as he chuckled almost silently into her ear. "I do not see how that was funny," she muttered.
"I suppose it wasn't," he murmured, still leaning against her. "But I am prepared to be anything for you. A friend. A brotherâ" Arwen cringed at thatâ "a confidant. Or an obedient dog at your bidding." Arwen frowned and turned her head towards him, destroying his place of rest against her. Azriel resettled, now pressing lightly just above her brow. His lips dusted, then pressed against her cheek. "I have been from the moment the bond snapped into place."
"But you weren't prepared to be my equal," she asked. "What if I tell you that's what I want? For you to consider yourself my equal?"
Azriel deepened the bow of his head until she could not even see his eyes. His lips grazed her lower cheek. When he did not answer, Arwen drew in a breath of air and prepared to pull away. But then he kissed her.
It was smallânothing more than a peck, but even when his lips left hers, he did not retreat. She loosened a trapped breath, trying to peek at his face as his forehead still rested against hers. But he was so close, so shadowed that Arwen could only make out the planes of his face, the length of his nose and the sharp cut of his jaw. A test, she realised. He was testing how it felt, how she reacted, perhaps if he wanted to do it again. So Arwen remained still and let him decide.
He angled his mouth to hers again. This one lasted long enough that could taste the sweetness again. It lasted long enough for her to feel what it was like and the euphoria it drove through her bones. Then it disappeared. But this time, she didn't have to question or wait.
The arm not in her lap went to the side of her face as he kissed her once more. There was no hesitance this time, no inching forward to test. Arwen swallowed her gasp, letting his hand in her lap go to reach out behind her and keep her weight from falling. The abandoned hand quickly found use in gripping her thigh, tight enough that he would feel bone. She pushed back, blindly reaching for him and securing a tight clutch on the leathers at his hip. Their breathing grew louder but neither relented the other.
Arwen freed her arm which had become trapped between her side and the back of the lounge, curling it up around his neck and threading her fingers through the loose strands at his neck. Azriel became the first to break away.
"You're my mate," he said, his breath fanning against her lips. Arwen smiled oddly but before she could respond, he kissed her again. And again. His lips, fierce and hungry, moved from her lips and down to the line of her jaw. He traced along it and she tilted her head as he reached the junction of her ear. He stopped, lips still pressed against her neck in a way that let her feel the words against her skin. "You are my mate."
Somewhere amongst the kisses peppered to her neck, he swapped which hand took to her thighs, the other making rest on her waist. His fingers spread wide, cupping up along the back of her thigh as she still sat on her knees and ankles, each finger leaving a mark of heat. Then he ran them back down and tightened his grip around the back of her knee. In a single, hard but well-guided tug, he pulled her leg over him. Arwen's stomach tightened in the fright as she was moved to straddle his legs. His hands grappled at her waist, guiding her seat closer to him. She continued to hold his face in her hands, twitching as her stomach met his. He held her there, smoothing his arms along her back like they were forming a cage. Azriel sat tall and far away enough from the back of the lounge to let his wings spread.
Arwen moved her hands down his face and onto his neck, holding him there so she could pull away. Her lips remained open to pant for lost air, and she tilted her head back to give herself a moment of recovery. She needed to understand him. Dropping her head once more, she found Azriel with his own bowed. Trailing her finger along his neck, along the soft underside of his jaw, Arwen lifted it back up. She pressed a slow and soft kiss then leant back up. "What are you thinking, Azriel?"
His nose nudged her chin aside so he could kiss the soft part at the hinge of her jaw. "That you are my mate," he said into her skin.
Arwen laughed and guided his face back up so she could see his eyes. "Besides that. It's not a sudden realisation. You've known for ten years, so tell me what you are thinking."
Azriel gave a soft sigh, his arms caging her back softening. They remained around her but lowered until his forearms rested along the side of her thighs and hips and he held her there instead. He leant forward, resting his forehead just above her collarbone. "That I don't deserve this," he whispered, barely audible against her nightshirt. One hand at her back slipped underneath her shirt, making slow and loose trails with his fingertips along the low of her spine.
"I'm sorry."
Azriel stilled under her, then lifted his head and searched for her gaze. Arwen offered it.
"I'm sorry for that night in Hewn City," she continued, "when you told me why you didn't want the mating bond. You can't blame me for being upset or for walking away. But you were hurting too and I didn't do anything about it." Arwen swallowed a growing lump in her throat and shifted on his lap. "Rhysand and I fought before I came home. He told me that I'm stuck in my own headâonly capable of worrying about myself. He's right. When you told me how you felt, I only thought about me. How it hurt me. I didn't even stop to think about how much you had been hurting for the past ten years because it didn't matter to me then. So I'm sorry and maybe you don't deserve someone this selfish."
Azriel frowned to the night. His fingers still traced on the low of her back, the other gripping the back of her hip. He shook his head. "My pain shouldn't have become yours. This bond, it..." He shook his head again and tightened his grip on her once more. "It hurts. It fucking hurts, Arwen. But tonight is the first time that it felt good."
Arwen saw it on his faceâthe lingering of that pain. She leant forward, encircling her arms around his neck and buried her face into his neck. "I don't ever want you in pain, Az. I would give up my life if it meant your happiness."
His chest pressed against hers as he took a long draw of air. Azriel's arms retook the expanse of her back, trapping her to him in a way that she never wanted to escape from. She didn't even care when his hands ran over the canvas of her scars. "I would give up my wings if it meant that you could take them."
Her breath caught and it took a moment for her to remember she needed that air. Arwen pressed her brows together, burrowing her face further into the warmth of his neck and between her arms. Azriel buried his nose into her hair and he slowly leant back until he rested against the lounge's backing, holding her with him. They stayed there, unwilling to give up their hold for the lesser comfort of their beds. He sunk lower into the cushioning so he sat at a recline, letting her weight rest along his front. Arwen remained tucked into him for the rest of the night.