𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 97

Chapter 97

Arwen relished the darkness of the bedchamber. Relished the scent of her mate clinging to every part of it. Her hand fisted around the maroon sheet that currently lay over his mattress, her head buried in a pillow of a matching shade. The bed was massive—enough so that she could not reach two ends at the same time in any direction. She traced an assortment of shapes into the material with her fingertip, unable to suppress the growing sense of helplessness. Arwen wished she could be outside as her family were. As the people of her city were. But they did not feel as she did and would not understand it.

She was, after all, the only one alive that knew of their fate.

It had to have been close to half an hour before anybody found her place of hiding. The door creaked in warning but Arwen made no move to acknowledge it. Azriel kept the room veiled in darkness as he silently manoeuvred around the bed. He climbed onto it behind her and she shifted with the bounce of the mattress as he pushed up to her back. Long fingers guided strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear.

Azriel kissed her bare shoulder. "Was it too much?"

She nodded. It was the best answer she could give. Arwen lifted her head as his arm snaked under her neck, letting it turn her with his other to face him. She tucked her head into the space under his chin.

"You could have told me," he whispered, not in accusation but in offer.

"I didn't want to explain myself. You should rejoin them, I don't mind being alone tonight."

His nose brushed her hair. "I've spent far too many Starfalls without you. I intend to spend every minute of this one at your side. And every Starfall to come." Those words made her smile as they reminded her once more of what she still had here. But it would not wean the loss of what this night brought. Not when it celebrated something that would never be for her. Limited—that was what her existence now was. "You look beautiful, if I have not already told you."

She played with the neckline of his black shirt. "You had forgotten."

"My greatest apologies."

He held her and all she wanted was to be held. Arwen focused on her breaths as Cassian taught her, closing her eyes and using Azriel's scent as an anchor. She was here. She had this world. What was beyond it did not matter anymore.

The decision was made.
There was no turning back.
She gave it up willingly.

But had she? Had Arwen truly given it up knowing what it was? She recalled the day, the words she had said. I'll stay. Spoken only after her brother had touched her scars. In fear of the prison world and of the tether. I'll stay.

If he hadn't touched her scars, what might she have said?

Her gut audibly rumbled. These thoughts were ruining her.

Arwen pried her circlet off, tossed it to the foot of the bed and resettled deeper into the crook of Azriel's neck. He tightened his grip in response and tried to push his knee between her legs, but the sturdiness of the fabric of her dress did not allow it. He grumbled under his breath and instead settled with pulling their bodies closer. 

Drifting from his neck, the knuckles of Arwen's fingers brushed against a sturdy ridge of his wing. Her lips inched up at his twitch of response but chose to rake her hand through his hair instead. "I'm not sure I like Starfall anymore," she whispered.

"Nobody holds you to that expectation."

She agreed with that observation, but Azriel did not understand the extent of what it meant. A night that was revered throughout her court. A night her family celebrated and treasured. A night she could no longer celebrate with them. It would be a night she now spent alone, remembering what she has lost—what she had given up for the same family that celebrated it.