The Prophecy - ACOTAR

Chapter 48 *

A/N: Pronunciation: Arlise: Air - lease

The sun glinted through the small window perched above their bed, illuminating Astrid's face as Azriel brushed her inky black hair from her face. When he had seen her for the first time, her skin had been so pale. Pale from blood loss, pale from spending so much time out of the sun. She had looked so incredibly weak, but he had known better. She survived blow after blow but yet there she had stood, her back coated in blood and her sword gripped in her hands.

Azriel would never forget the feeling of her giving up that weapon when she saw him. It wasn't Her sister, her brother, or her best friend that made her she was safe enough to give into her pain. It was him, before she even knew he was her mate.

Here, with the sun blanketing her face, he could see the coloring seeping back in. Her Illyrian ancestry became more and more obvious each time he came home. It was something he loved to see, because It told him she was healing more and more each day. It wasn't all physical healing, that he was all to aware of, even before he had a rather heated conversation with Cass yesterday.

Azriel couldn't help but grin as he thought back on those first few minutes when he had come back.

He had known the moment his booted feet landed in the snow outside of the house Astrid wasn't there. If she had been she would have launched herself at him the second his feet touched earth. But he didn't worry about finding her, the shadows would tell her he was back. Sometimes it would be a couple moments and she would appear with a giant grin, other times it could be a few hours until he was ambushed from above. Either way, the moment the shadows determined she was ready to know he was back, she would be there.

Azriel wasn't upset in the least she wasn't here either. He had secretly hoped that it would be one of the times it might take her a minute to find him, because he needed to have a conversation with Cass. And if his mate was here, she would probably smack him in the head for needing to have this conversation. Then he would have to remind her that she licked his hand to basically mark him in front of Mor and Feyre before they were ever properly mates. Then Astrid would sulk around for the rest of the night before she could admit that she would have reacted the same way.

He made his way into the stone house he had frequented in his much younger years to find Cass lounging in one of the wooden chair with his feet propped up on the dinner table, an eyebrow raised at Rhys. He'd seen that look occur many times between the two males, it had become their way of telling the other 'I told you so'. For a General and a High Lord, they could be incredibly childish sometimes. But so could he, but Cass and Rhys normally took it to a whole other level. Azriel would meet them there once a year, for their snowball fight. Which sounded like something Astrid could help him win this year.

"What's going on here?" He asked as he dropped his bag next to the couch in front of the sizzling fire.

"Feyre knows..." Rhys groaned and slumped farther into his chair.

Azriel gave a couple nods in understanding, "I'm guessing Mor and Astrid are wherever she is?"

"Yup." Cass said, popping the P at the end.

Azriel turned his attention towards Cass, crossed his arms, and stared. Cass fidgeted in his seat and Azriel stared harder. He knew it was Cass that helped her through whatever panic she had felt, and if it was anything like the way Cass had helped him, he was heavily considering castrating his brother.

"Fuck Az, what's with the look?" Cass asked with a look on his face that told Azriel he knew exactly what this was about.

"You know what I want to know." Azriel said, his voice dark and deep. His shadows came up to swirl around him, adding to the menacing look of death he currently wore.