The Last Queen (An ACOTAR / Azriel fanfiction)

The Angry Man

The hardest thing Azriel had ever had to do was to fly to the mortal realm so he could bring Daggerheart to The Hewn City. However, he thought it suited her. The Hewn City was full of people like her - people he hated.

What was more one person to an array of people he hated? Well, the answer was that none of those people were his mate. He did not feel like he was suffocating when he looked at them.

He didn't know why he had such a fierce hatred for Daggerheart. She hated fae and she hated him. She would surely reject the bond the moment she found out about it.

His mind wandered over to the one thing it always did- Elain Archerone. He wondered if she felt this way about her mate. He didn't have a high opinions of Lucien and being Elain's mate has only ruined any potential possibilities of getting along with one another. He wondered if she ever felt like she was trapped or if she was ever suffocating. He couldn't bring himself to think that she wanted anything to do with Lucien after months of avoiding him. Did she ever get angry at him for being her mate like he was angry at daggerheart? Perhaps not. It was hard for him to imagine Elain angry. He had seen her angry a few time and he was always surprised at how patient she was. There wasn't a lot that angered her but there clearly was a lot that angered him. He imagined there was a lot that angered Daggerheart too. She looked easy to anger but whenever he thought about it, he thought that it was very difficult to get her to take out her anger. She was a different kind of patient.

Like me. He thought but angrily frowned. No. They were nothing alike.

He thought about his anger when he crossed over into the human realm. He thought that he was an angry man. It reminded him of his father and that terrified him. His brothers were like his father and he didn't want to be like his brothers.

" If you grew up with an angry man in your house, there will always be an angry man in your house." He whipped his head around to see the same golden wings and the a dark green turtleneck.

"What?" He asked.

"It's a poem." Daggerheart inspected her nails while hovering a few feet away from him. "I read it this morning."

"You read poems?" Why did he want to know that? Yes, he didn't want to know that. So before she could reply, he shook his head, " I'm here to take you to The Night Court." He said instead.

"I guessed that." Her indifferent eyes met his and he clenched his jaw.

When are you going to tell her, Azriel? Mor's question came back to him.

Don't make the same mistakes that Rhys did. Feyre has said. He knew they only meant the best and he knew he couldn't keep it a secret forever. He knew Daggerheart was far too clever for him to succeed in doing that.

So he flew. In hopes that flying for so long would tire her, he flew. She bought out the angry man inside of him. He knew she had flown all the way to Hewn City just two days ago but he hoped she would be so tired she would stop coming here. He was aware it was going to be one of her many visits. Routes were not decided in one day. Maybe flying every day would be too much for her and she wouldn't bother with it.

Something told her she was much too stubborn for that but he hoped anyway.

He didn't want to see her in his home, near his family. He didn't want her to laugh with Cassian and drink wine with Mor. He didn't want her to look at Feyre's paintings or Rhys's study. He knew that these things existed in Velaris and he wasn't taking her to Velaris. She probably didn't even know about Velaris. Probably. But he was certain she would find a way. Somehow, she had been in his life for a week and already became such an important part of it. He couldn't trust her around his family.

He found himself trying to leave her behind. Flying so quick that she would be left behind. Of course, she was right by his side, if not a little ahead. He gave himself some time to actually look at her.

He had always thought she looked the exact opposite of Elain. Maybe she sometimes did. Not right now.

He watched the graceful curve of her mouth and her slender hands. I like her hands, he thought for some reason, they are beautiful. He watched her blow a breath from her mouth and she did it so softly like something might break if she didn't. I like her nose too, he thought. It was a shocking discovery. He thought she had sharp features but she didn't. She was all delicate features and graceful movements. He wondered why he hadn't noticed that. He had never failed to notice anything.

This made him angrier. He had failed at something he was proud of only because of her.

I hate her entire being, he thought as they descended near the Court.