473 YEARS AGO.
The High Lord of the Winter Court wants me dead. My own father. Boreas, the cruel king of winter. Fresh snow crunched under my boots as I ran through the trees towards the mountains. I could hear the soldiers in pursuit, their yelling almost drowning out the roars of the battle wolves that ran alongside them.
How strange it was to be running from the only place I've ever called home. I never knew my father. I'm his bastard daughter he wanted to forget, until I started showing signs of my power. He tried the Daddy's little girl routine until he realised I could not be controlled, making me public enemy number one.
So I ran.
My legs were numb and the harsh wind whipped my white hair into my face, lashing me in my eyes and causing them to sting. The muscles in my arms and back were screaming at me to stop, to take a break, but I couldn't. If I stopped, I was dead.
An ash arrow splintered a thin tree directly to my right, and I cursed under my breath. They were gaining on me. So I did the one thing I said I would never do. I conjured my wings.
And I flew.
Away from the place I once called home, and deep into the Illyrian mountains.
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A Court of Souls and Shadows
FanfictionWith the war against Hybern on their doorstep, the Night Court is desperate for allies that can help to turn the tide. While Feyre hunts down monsters to join the fight, Azriel's mission is simple: find the Soul Stealer. The only problem is, the Sou...
