A Court of Whispers and Song

Chapter 3

Gwyn, they whispered in his ear.

Since Winter Solstice, shadows had become a tad obsessed with the young priestess. Every time she was around, they were always peering over his shoulders like excitable puppies vying for her attention. But right now, they sounded agitated and were insistent.

Gwyn.

He questioned silently, What about her?

Find Gwyn, they outright demanded.

Find Gwyn? Where else could she be? She was outside enjoying the party with everyone, and she would be fine. Though, if Azriel was being honest, part of him wanted to find her. She did it. Gwyn was here—he was so damn proud of her.

The funny thing was, he hadn't even recognized her at first since Mor had obviously gotten her manicured hands on the priestess. Gwyn's usual fiery straight hair fell in copper waves onto her shoulders and her face was delicately made-up. The kohl around her eyes made the teal glow like a pair of flawless tourmaline gemstones. Her pink lips looked pouty and delicate. Soft and kissable. Wait... kissable?

If he was being honest, Az had to admit he preferred Gwyn with no makeup at all. He missed the light smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. And, although that dress made her look like an ocean goddess emerging from the sea, he missed the training leathers. He knew the curves and strength hidden beneath all the flowing layers of delicate fabric.

But it had been her smile—her sunny, pretty smile had his heart clenching in his damn chest Then she had jumped him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, tugging him close. It was rare that anyone surprised him, let alone hugged him, so he stood there like an idiot until his brain got the message, finally wrapping an arm loosely around her back. There was something about the way she had held onto him...

Shaking his head, Azriel intended to go straight up to Rhysand's office for an impromptu report on the Autumn Court, when he was intercepted.

"So today you look at me?" Her chilly voice lacked the familiar warmth and stopped him dead in his tracks. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and faced her.

Elain.

Shit. He couldn't do this right now and sure as fuck not here.

"Come with me," he whispered, taking her hand, hurrying her into a side room that was rarely used. Azriel turned to face her as he shut the door, scrubbing his hands down his face. "Elain—"

She lifted her chin, crossing her arms over her chest. "What, Azriel? It's been weeks and weeks since you've come to me."

The muscle in his jaw twitched. "It's too risky and you know it."

"Risky? For whom? From who?"

Risky for you, Singer. He shook their words from his head.

"Besides, Azriel, all we've done is kiss—"

Azriel took a step closer until the tips of their shoes touched. "You know damn well we've done a little more than just kiss." He could remember the touch of her mouth, the taste of her tongue, the warmth of her body against his own, the smoothness of her thigh. But they had never had sex. Secret kisses and heavy petting were bad enough if Lucien or Rhys found out.

He could scent the change in her body at his words. This conversation needed to end quickly, before things got out of hand.

"Elain, I've got a meeting. We can't do this right now."

She put her hands on her hips, raising her obstinate little chin, stepping right in his path. "And why not, Azriel? Don't you want me anymore?"

The strain against the front of his pants reminded him that want was not the issue, and he was sure she could scent him as her eyes darkened to a deep umber.