A Court of Shadows and Lies / ACOTAR FF

Chapter 45

When I woke up, Azriel wasn't in the bed next to me. I had felt around the space behind me to see if he had flipped around, a rarity since we had started to share a bed, and found it empty. Turning, I found myself looking out the window of the tiny room. It was a blanket of white, the sky blanketed with clouds peppering the land with snow. The neighbouring houses that looked exactly like this one, had a thick coat of the soft mass encasing the rooves. All the chimneys were puffing out smoke, keeping their houses warm.

It was absolutely beautiful here. Serene, quiet. A place where any fae could come and think.

Was that why Azriel took me here? I hadn't asked him.

The sound of the front door shutting and muffled voices took me out of my thoughts. Slipping out of the bed, I was surprised to find the flooring warm, and the room itself to be a liveable temperature. I smoothed out the velvet pyjamas that Azriel had given me, catching myself in the mirror.

The female in the reflection was a stark difference to the one who had fallen in Velaris all those months ago.

I had filled out, my body no longer looking like I hadn't eaten for years – the dress certainly not made for my hips, arse or breasts yet here I was, squeezing into it. My cheeks were a bright pink, lips plump, as well as healthy looking skin and hair. For the first time in a very long time, I looked...happy.

That was the word. Happy. Content.

"Mum, let's leave this conversation," Azriel said in frustration, a bit louder than he had anticipated. "What's done is done."

My attention shifted to the door so I moved towards it, cracking it open slightly to overhear the conversation. Azriel dumped firewood near the table while his mother looked disappointingly at him, her eyes leering at him dangerously. I winced, I now knew where he got his stares from.

"I didn't raise a liar," she hissed, picking up a large wooden cooking spoon and pointing it at him. "I didn't raise you to be a pig."

What the fuck?

Azriel turned towards his mum, his gaze matching hers with ferocity. "I'm going to deal with this."

"And what happens then? What happens when everything falls apart? Do you know what they're capable of? I saw it first hand-"

"That is for me to handle when it gets to that point."

It was seemingly the end of the weird conversation. Azriel turned from his mother, taking his thick gloves off and throwing them on the table. He shrugged off the large, thick fur coat and hung it on the hooks behind the door, flexing his wings slightly.

"Does she know?" his mother suddenly asked, venom laced with each word. Azriel froze on the spot, his shadows suddenly immobilised. He stared at the door while his mum cocked her head to the side, her chest rising and falling heavily. Was this about me? "Does she know?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Azriel replied lowly and slowly.

His mum slammed the spoon on the counter, snapping it in half. "Do not play stupid with me, Azriel, or else I'll call for your father and he can deal with your shit. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Does. She. Know?"

"No."

"You cannot do that to her!" his mother snapped, walking up to him with the handle end of the broken spoon.

The tension was thick in the room, the two Illyrians staring at each other before Azriel grunted. He didn't say a word as he backed away from his mum, not once looking at her, before turning and heading towards where I stood. Shit.