A Court of Lightning and Shadows

Twenty-four

——
Briar POV

Her head felt heavy as she woke up. The sun was already shining brightly through the window.

She was still in the same position she had fallen asleep in, Azriel's arms now wrapped around her waist.

She carefully lifted his arm as she turned around to face him.

His shadows were quiet and curled around his wings. Azriel's eyes were still closed.

She grabbed his hand and started tracing his scars.

He had never told her the story about how he got them. She supposed it wasn't a happy story.

She was still ashamed of the two scars on her back. Briar never showed them. She had to admit, that she still missed the weight of her wings.

Briar's eyes went back to Azriel's face. She found him staring right back at her.

She still held his hand while his gaze shifted to their hands.

"Sorry.." she said while a small blush crept on her cheeks. She dropped his hand.

"No, It's okay." he said, grabbing back her hand, "It's just.. I hate them.. the scars. But you seem to like them."

She started tracing the scars again. "I hate my scars too. But I think yours are beautiful."

A small smile formed on Azriel's face.

"Why haven't you asked about how I got them?"

"The same reason as why you haven't asked about my past." she said, "It is your choice whether you want to tell it."

She knew Azriel already knew what had happened to her. She also knew Rhys had told the entire Inner Circle. Azriel hadn't looked different at her, so she didn't care.

"It isn't a happy story." he started.

"For the first eleven years of my life, I lived with my father and stepmother. My stepmother had two sons, my half-brothers." he swallowed, "My stepmother kept me in a cell those eleven years."

Briar's eyes widened slightly as she tightened her grip on his hands, letting him know she was listening.

"I was allowed to come out of the cell for one hour a day. I saw my birth mother once a week, for only an hour. I didn't learn how to fly back then, even though my Illyrian instincts told me too." he looked away, avoiding her eyes.

"When I was eight, my half-brothers decided it would be fun to see what would happen when you mix an Illyrian's quick healing gifts with oil and fire. They poured oil on my hands and lit them on fire." she saw Azriel struggle with his words.

She lifted her hand to his cheek as he continued, "My father's warriors heard my screams, and rescued me. They were not quick enough to save my hands."

"I'm sorry." she said. She noticed the tears in his eyes. Her heart ached at the sight.

A tear slipped down Azriel's face as he looked away again.

"Thank you, for telling me." she said.

She placed her head on his chest, snuggling further into his side to comfort him.

He placed a kiss on top of her head, something he did often.

She knew Azriel didn't want to kiss her anywhere else, at least not without her permission. She really appreciated it, that he listened to her.

Briar lifted her head from his chest, looking up.

She quickly placed a kiss on his lips. He pulled her back when she moved her head away, deepening the kiss.