The Illyrian Warrior

Chapter Twenty-Five

Between training her new powers and visiting the Illyrian camps, Davina had been researching in the library. But no matter how many books she looked in, she could not for the life of her find out how she got these powers. It was unheard of to have your powers amplified after a loved ones death, of course, bursts of rage and grief could make someone use more of their power, but that would've meant the power disappeared after she recovered. This power, her power had stuck around.

She knew she'd have more luck researching in Rhysand's private library, but that was situated at the House of Wind, and Davina was still avoiding Azriel. She was pretty certain that she had overcome her initial anger and shock at him, but she wasn't sure how he would react when he saw her. She imagined that he'd be apologising a lot, maybe even trying to win her back, or perhaps he'd apologise for leading her on and tell her that he preferred Elain.

Elain was beautiful. She had soft features and wore pastel gowns that flowed elegantly in the wind. Davina was covered in scars and could not do anything elegantly to save herself. Elain and her were so different. And Davina was convinced she was the worst choice.

"I'm bored", Nesta stated from her position on the library couch.

Nesta often came with Davina to do her research. Although, Nesta didn't do as much researching as she did complaining.

"Then go home", Davina said for the fifth time.

Nesta sighed, "can't we take a break and go for a walk or something".

"We took a break half an hour ago".

Nesta huffed, "I want another one".

"You've barely done anything", Davina said rolling her eyes.

"Don't criticise me", she glared playfully.

Davina sighed and closed her book. Every time they took a break, Davina expected to be bombarded with questions about Azriel and them being mates. But either, Cassian hadn't told Nesta, like Davina suspected he would, or Nesta didn't care.

"Fine", Davina sighed standing up, "let's go to the pastry shop and get some snacks".

Nesta smiled, "I like your thinking".

Davina quickly tided up their area of the library before grabbing her purse and following after Nesta who was impatiently waiting at the door. Davina had been meaning to visit Adam at the pastry shop, she'd been meaning to apologise for abruptly quitting all those weeks ago.

Every time Davina was outside her apartment, she kept glancing towards the sky, expecting Azriel to appear. She was anxious to see him, but she wasn't one-hundred-percent sure why. Did he miss her like she missed him? Would it go smoothly? Would Davina have to accept the fact that Azriel had no interest in her?

But of course, Azriel never swooped down to talk to her. When she had asked for space, he listened.

Just as Nesta and Davina were making their way down the street, Rhysand appeared in front of them, making both of them jump.

"Good afternoon", he said inclining his head.

"What now, Rhys?" Davina said crossing her arms.

He had been swamping her with work for the last few days, this had been her day off, where she planned to research and hang out with Nesta.

Rhysand winced, "how do you feel about seeing Azriel?"

"Why?" Davina furrowed her brows.

Nesta watched their conversation with indifference, merely glancing between them throughout.

"I've invited Devlon over to discuss the progression of the camps, and...well", Rhysand sighed, "you need to be there, and Azriel will be there too".

Davina blinked at the information.

"What's so important about this discussion with Devlon that I need to be there", she said.

"I was thinking of the idea you told me the other day", Rhys said, "and I think it might work".

"What idea?" Nesta said, finally joining in.

Davina had proposed it to Rhys on a whim. An all female camp. There could not be biases from males if their were only females. Davina thought Rhys would laugh at her and call her an idealist, but he must of considered it more than she thought.

"An all female camp", Davina said to Nesta, "no males to clip wings or torture them".

Nesta tilted her head, "that's actually a good idea".

Davina huffed, "I'm glad you have so much faith in me".

Nesta glared playfully, but Rhys interrupted as he cleared his throat.

"You still haven't answered my question", he said putting his hands into his pockets.

Davina sighed. She'd have to rip off the bandaid eventually. Maybe if there were other people around, he couldn't overwhelm her. She wasn't sure what she'd do if Azriel started asking too many questions. How long can she hold off telling him that they're mates?

"I think I'll manage", Davina said.

Rhysand winced a little, "by the way it's tonight".

"It's what?!"

"Bye Davina", Rhys said making his wings appear, "be ready by seven o'clock sharp!"

"Rhysand!" Davina called after him as he flew away, "get back here you piece of shit!"

Davina and Nesta continued their walk after he left, although, admittedly Davina was grouchy. Rhys really just sprung this on her? She was at least expecting a few days to mentally prepare herself. One side of her wanted to retreat and tell Rhys she wasn't coming, the other side of her wanted to go, not to see Azriel but because she needed to convince Devlon of her plan. By creating a temporary all female camp, they would have the freedom to choose what they wanted to do, all would be taught basic defence, but if some wanted to tend to children and cook for everyone then that was their choice. By subtracting the male Illyrians, Davina could allow the women to have a choice, something she wished she had, something that should not be a privilege but a right.

Davina and Nesta continued their walk, but Davina's mind was elsewhere the whole time.

                                      —————

Davina added another pin to her hair. The crown of braids seemed determined to fall out. Rhysand had left a message on her kitchen bench to wear something fancy. He had left her a dress but she was incredibly nervous to wear it. Mainly because it was backless, and all her nasty scars would be on display. Including the fainted word "weak" and the rough skin of where her wings once were.

It would be a statement piece, she realised. To have the wingless, female Illyrian on display as they negotiated with Devlon. Because she was a reminder of the species failings. So she would wear it, if only to gain a little bit of self-confidence, and maybe to stick-it to her father.

Fuck you dad, she thought, I'm successful and wingless, I'm everything you didn't want me to be.

She knew everybody would stare. Her scars were ugly and certainly shocking to anyone seeing them for the first time. But it was time for her to begin healing those emotional scars, the ones that made her hide away the physical implications of her ambition. Because there is nothing wrong with an ambitious woman.

She heard her front door open, that would be Rhys coming to pick her up.

"In here!" She called over her shoulder, "please come and help me with my hair!"

She listened to the footsteps as they drew nearer, but it wasn't Rhysand that stood in the reflection of her mirror. No, it was Azriel.