Nesta's fantasy

Nesta stopped just outside the library door, leaning her head against the cool stone wall of the dark hallway in a pathetic attempt to collect herself. She couldn't possibly face the priestesses in her current state, let alone have enough mental focus to actually get any work done.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to think of important things like the mysterious Dread Trove and how she might find its components. She had nearly resolved to ask Gwyn for help in her research when she heard a soft shuffling sound.

Azriel stood a few paces behind her, scarred hands casually hooked into the pockets of the loose black pants he had apparently changed into since leaving the training pit. He nearly blended into the shadows of the already dim hallway and could easily have remained silent and undetected. The fact that he'd made any noise at all meant he was probably being polite, trying not to startle her as he passed to get into the library.

Heat blossomed across her cheeks, and she knew it was only half due to embarrassment as images flashed unbidden through her mind. Azriel's hard muscled body, gleaming with sweat as it had been only a few hours before. Another equally powerful male body clashing against his, wings flared with the tattoo of the eight-pointed star on full display.

Az raised an eyebrow, removing his scarred hands from his pockets to cross his arms over his chest. The glint in his eye left her in no doubt that her scent had revealed quite enough of the content of her thoughts.

Nesta straightened, refusing to be ashamed. There was nothing wrong with what she felt, and she hoped her defiant gaze was enough to communicate as much to the male who was now slowly shaking his head at her, the ghost of a smile on his beautifully curved lips.

"Sorry to disappoint, Nesta."

Confusion coursed through her for a split second before she realized what he meant. He thought her desire was only for Cassian. He had no idea that moments ago she had been vividly picturing him behind her, rocking her hips to the rhythm of his thrusts. For a moment she wished she had daemati powers like Feyre & her obnoxious mate, if only so she could show Azriel exactly what she envisioned. Still, she could have fun with this.

Feigning ignorance, she wrinkled her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side. "Whatever do you mean?"

A soft chuckle and a wicked grin answered. "Only that I know your preference would have been for my brother to find you here. You know, I am a spymaster and we currently live in the same house. I'm well aware you're panting after him."

She matched his grin with her own. "It seems some things have slipped past your senses, oh great spymaster."

She took a few long strides toward him, until they were separated by only a couple of inches. She brazenly looked him up and down, then placed a hand on his chest just in time to feel his heart rate begin to rise.

Azriel looked unnerved, which gave Nesta a gratifying sense of self-satisfaction. In her albeit limited experience with the shadowsinger, she had gleaned that he was not often surprised.

"I see," he replied, his voice just slightly unsteady. "And what might I have missed?"

She leaned forward, standing on tiptoe and bringing her lips to brush the shell of his ear as she said "The thoughts keeping my mind so occupied are not only of Cassian. At least, not after your sparring this morning."

Their gazes locked as she lowered her weight back to her heels, and delight curled in her core as she registered Azriel's flared pupils. Shadows rushed from the darkness to caress her face, her legs, her lower back. There was blatant desire in his stare, and now in his scent as well.