The Challenge

Chapter 3

Azriel had locked the flag in a box. Then he had locked that box inside his wardrobe. And then he had locked his room. He wished that he could have kept the flag on him, but between Gwyn and her grabby hands, Az didn't think he'd be able to get any work done this afternoon.

You make it sound like being touched by the Valkyrie was a hardship, Singer.

The laughter of his shadows at his answering sigh echoed loud and long in his head, even after he left one to guard the door as an extra precaution. It floated down into a patch of darkness in the corner, curled itself into a ball like a cat, and continued laughing long after he walked away.

Of course he liked Gwyn touching him. There was no denying that she was attractive, funny, and smart, just like it was impossible to ignore the way his heart reacted when she was near. But Az was a proud male, and he wanted Gwyn to touch him because he wanted to; not because she was trying to win some bet between them.

After he had returned to the dining room, the remainder of lunch passed without further incident. Gwyn did not go searching for any clues as to where he had locked away the flag. Either she was biding her time, or she already had a guess. Truthfully, there were only so many places Az felt comfortable leaving something as important as the flag in the House of Wind. Gwyn was clever enough to know that about him.

When he sat down to work in his office that afternoon, he checked all around the space for signs of Gwyn, even though he had seen her take the stairs back down to the Library beneath the House. He couldn't be too careful, not if he wanted to win. He had barely made it through the first report when he felt a talon scrape down his mental wall.

Rhys.

Azriel, I need you at the River House.

Now?

Do you have something more important to do?

Rhys responded to the incredulous tone of Azriel's thoughts with a hint of laughter in his own. For a moment, Az considered explaining the wager he had made with Gwyn; how he needed to stay near, should his shadow alert him to the priestess trying to break into his room. Another beat passed and he considered the possibility that Gwyn had asked Nesta to ask Cassian to ask Rhys to get him out of the House this afternoon. They hadn't put any limitations on their bet. Gwyn would be smart to seek out help to steal the flag; allies that Az might not suspect. He should have been smarter and secured himself some allies first.

And what are we, Singer? His shadows sounded annoyed.

We both know that you adore Gwyn. I wouldn't put it past you lot to betray me.

And yet you let us guard your door, they countered in that superior way of theirs. Intriguing.

Az? Rhys broke into his thoughts, reminding him that the mental bridge was open between them. He wondered how much his brother had heard.

Right. I'm on my way. Az couldn't ignore the summons of his High Lord; not for a silly wager with Gwyn.

***

The door to his room was locked upon his return. Az wasn't sure if he would be relieved or disappointed by that. As much as he wanted to win the bet, a part of him wanted to see Gwyn succeed.

Rhys had wanted to go over what Koschei had said to him when they had met. He knew his High Lord was looking for something, some nuance that had been missed. But Azriel's full attention hadn't been on the Death Lord. Part of it had been on the slopes of Ramiel with Gwyn.

Azriel sat on the end of his bed and began to unlace his boots. It wasn't until he had tugged the first one off and placed it on the floor that he realized something was amiss. The door had been locked, yes, but that didn't mean Gwyn hadn't found a way in.