A Court of Light and Melody

With Me

**Set after Epilogue – see if you can spot the Throne of Glass reference**

Bonus Chapter 11/12

With Me

"Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood.'

- Marie Curie

Broke Apart - Bonobo

Days in Windhaven were always long to Azriel, but days without the company of his wife and mate were longer still. Combine the two of them and you had the cause behind Azriel's near-crippling fatigue as he entered their cabin. Still though, he'd somehow found the energy to stop by Rita's and procure a container of the fried dough that Gwyn adored. It was nestled under his arm as he kicked the front door shut behind him and started towards the bedroom.

The fae lights in the hallway were dimmed, the moonlight outside providing him with the most visibility of their door. Then again, if he couldn't see, he could always just follow the sound of Gwyn's singing. Tonight, as had become the norm, it was a gentle lullaby. One he recognized that his mother had taught them just last week.

He entered the bedroom and her singing stopped, eyes brightening at the sight of him.

Azriel smiled wryly. "Are you smiling at me or the smell of Rita's?"

"Can it not be both, Shadowsinger?" she asked innocently.

Azriel leveled her with a flat look, crossing to sit beside her on the bed and sliding the box over. "If you'd asked me that four months ago I would be inclined to say that yes, it could be both." He nodded pointedly towards her distended stomach. "But now, I confess that I am doubtful."

Rolling her eyes, Gwyn opened the paper box and began to dig into the fried dough. "Well, thank you all the same. I was starving."

Azriel's gaze narrowed. "Did you forget to eat dinner again?"

"Pregnancy brain," shrugged Gwyn. "I forget things sometimes."

"Am I going to have to put up notes all around the cabin to remind you to eat whenever I'm gone?" he smirked, slipping off the bed. He started to unbuckle his leathers, walking over to their dresser and removing a pair of loose sleeping trousers. Gods, that bed looked so damn good after the day he'd had. "Don't make me tell Madja on you..."

"You wouldn't dare," Gwyn said around a mouthful of food.

Azriel glanced over his shoulder at her, shirking off his leather jacket. "Don't challenge me, Spymaster Berdara."

His mate arched a brow, sucking a bit of grease off her thumb and making Azriel's stomach tighten. "Well, don't threaten me, Spymaster Berdara."

Azriel scoffed lightly and shucked off his pants. He tossed his leathers on the chair in the corner and gladly pulled on his sleeping trousers. When he turned around to start towards the bed he saw Gwyn's eyes drink in his bare torso hungrily. Gods, she was ravenous for him these days. And likewise him for her.

But his entire body begged for rest, he barely had the strength to heave himself onto the mattress, much less fuck her in the way that she deserved. The way he wanted to.

His mate must've felt his fatigue through the bond, because she frowned understandingly. "We'll get you straight to bed, Shadowsinger. Maybe tomorrow instead."

"I'm sorry," he grimaced. "Just– I'm so fucking tired."

Gwyn winced. "Me too. And besides, when I saw Madja today she advised me to get more rest." She rested a hand atop her bump, her teal eyes becoming weary.