A Court of Souls and Shadows

42. Azriel

Content Warning: Graphic Sexual Content. 18+

I slumped into my chair, heaving out heavy breaths as Cassian made me a drink. The tent was cold as fuck, but I barely noticed. I'd been winnowing soldier after soldier from the Summer Court all day, and I was exhausted. Sweat dripped down my back in thick rivulets, and I was sure I smelt awful. I rested my elbow on the arm of my chair as I scrubbed my hand over my face in exhaustion. I wondered how Raven was doing. I wanted to see her the moment we'd finished winnowing every last soldier back, but my Siphons were dim, and I knew I didn't have enough energy left in me to fly to the palace.

"You look like shit," Cassian said, handing me a glass of whiskey. I gave him a flat look before downing the whiskey in one go. "You aren't exactly a bed of roses either," I replied in a flat tone, raising a brow in his direction. Cassian huffed out a laugh and slumped into the chair beside me.

Get to the main tent, Rhysand's voice said into my mind. I sighed and looked over at Cassian. "Did you get that?" I asked, tapping at my head with my index finger. Cassian downed his drink and stood. "Yep," he replied, grabbing onto my arm and hauling me out of my chair. "No rest for the wicked, as they say," he added with a roguish smile. "Speak for yourself," I grumbled as I followed him from our tent to the centre of the camp.

The main tent was a gigantic structure, much taller than the others that surrounded it. No one slept inside. It was used for stockpiling supplies and meetings between leaders. Cassian pushed through the entrance first and I trudged behind him, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. My eyes lifted to scan the space as we entered, finding Rhysand, Feyre and Mor already present. Rhysand was slumped on a plush couch with Feyre, his head in her lap while she played with his hair. His eyes were closed, and he looked just as terrible as me, dark circles marking the skin beneath his eyes. Between the two of us, we had done most of the winnowing earlier in the day, and we were both drained.

I collapsed onto the couch opposite them beside Mor, Cassian sitting on her other side. Rhysand's eyes snapped open but he remained laying in Feyre's lap, his face tired. "What's up, boss man?" Cassian asked, an easy smile spreading across his face. I rolled my eyes as I leant back and rested my head on the back of the couch. The day had felt endless. How was it just that morning I'd been laying in a field in the Summer Court with my girl in my arms? And now this? It was like a lifetime had passed in the space of hours, and all I wanted was Raven and my bed. The war could wait.

"Tarquin and Raven are on their way here. I know you're all exhausted, but we need to discuss our plan of attack for tomorrow when Hybern's forces arrive," Rhysand said. I threw my head forward, suddenly wide awake, my eyes locking with Rhysand's.

"Raven's coming here?" I asked. Rhysand smirked. "Yes, she's the High Lady of the Winter Court."

Cassian stayed suspiciously quiet as Mor and Feyre started readying for the arrival of Tarquin and Raven. "You alright, brother?" I asked him, throwing my arm around his shoulders. He shrugged me off, levelling me with a look. "I haven't seen Raven since she left me on the rooftop of the townhouse covered in her blood," he replied, his voice rough. "Shit," I replied, searching his face. "You're still mad at her?" I asked him softly. Cassian closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't want to talk about it. Let's just get this shit done." I dropped the subject and followed him to where Mor and Feyre were busy readying the table for the High Lord's meeting. I gathered the maps we'd acquired of the Winter Court and the surrounding lands and laid them out while Cassian helped the others ready the food and drinks.

When everything was ready, I stood at attention beside Cassian towards the back of the tent, Mor beside us, while Rhysand and Feyre waited near the entrance. A messenger peeked his head through the tent, announcing that Tarquin would be arriving any minute. When Feyre asked for word of Raven, the messenger replied that he hadn't heard anything back from the palace. My stomach tightened with anxiety. I had no idea how things had gone with Kallias, or how things were at the palace. But I knew she wouldn't miss this. She would give her life for her brother, and she would do anything to make things right in the wake of his attack.