A Court of Light and Melody

Chapter 25 - Call My Name

**Yet again I fear that tomorrow I'll be too busy to post so once more, an entire hour early... the next chapter**

"And I think if you're going to be with somebody, you owe it to them to show yourself. "

― Chris Crutcher

Song: In This Shirt - The Irrepressibles

"We're mates, Shadowsinger."

He was still as stone, one hand gripping the railing, the other limp at his side. Even his shadows had stopped their dancing. His face was unreadable, but she could see something flicker in his eyes. It took her a moment to realize that they were both studying one another. Trying to puzzle out each other's reactions.

The shadowsinger showed no signs of breaking anytime soon. And why would he? Azriel knew that she was the talkative one.

Gwyn sighed. "So? Was that a polite fact? Or rude?"

It hit her then that she'd never provided any reasoning behind why she thought they were mates. She'd merely made the statement and then called it fact.

"I can explain," Gwyn said with a breathless laugh. "I did... a lot of research and—"

"No, don't... you don't need to explain," Azriel interjected. The musical baritone of his voice was even, certain, but again, his eyes betrayed something else. "I had my own suspicions. I just didn't imagine—"

"You did?" Gwyn blurted, her brows shooting up.

Azriel nodded, exhaling heavily. "That voice. The one you kept insisting was a 'lightsinger.' It sounded like the call of a mating bond."

So he'd picked that up as well... and hadn't thought to elaborate? "Why didn't you say something?"

The first signs of a discernible emotion appeared on his face as he cast a skeptical look her way. "Don't worry, Gwyn, that voice isn't a lightsinger, it's only a mating bond? "

Gwyn couldn't help the soft laugh that left her at his drawling tone, the corner of his lip tilted up.

"Besides, I wasn't sure that was what you were hearing. I knew you weren't hearing a lightsinger in you, but I didn't know for certain if it was a mating bond."

Gwyn shifted so she leaned back against the railing, able to look up at Azriel's face. His eyes flickered from the view back to her and that faint smile on his face warmed just slightly. Gwyn's heart stuttered.

She cleared her throat. "So you've suspected that long?"

Azriel bowed his head. "No. I suspected before that."

"Gods, Shadowsinger, how long have you suspected?"

"When you were taken. For the Blood Rite."

Gwyn didn't answer. She only blinked.

"I told you, I'd never known such terror before. I was lost for words," he murmured, turning his attention back to the ravine. Gwyn watched him carefully. "I told myself it was nothing. That we had been growing closer during our private lessons and I considered you a friend. But the horror... it wasn't anything like I felt when Rhysand was taken under the mountain or when Cassian's wings were shredded. It was..." Azriel's voice broke. Gwyn saw his scarred knuckles go white as he clenched the railing. "I knew you would make it back, but that there was a possibility that you wouldn't was just... agony . It was a fear I'd never known and I couldn't explain it. There has been... much I couldn't explain about you."

Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "Like what?"

Azriel's eyes were still fixed on the view, his grip on the railing tightened as his scarred knuckles paled. "When we were on our assignment, and Grisham struck you, I heard that same voice you heard when I was injured, a voice I heard in Sangravah. A voice that urged me to rip apart anyone who harmed you and bathe in their blood. But then, of course, that brute tackled me..." he growled. "By the time I'd shaken him off and knocked him out, you were gone and... and I felt that fear from the Blood Rite all over again.