The Flames in the Horizon

3

Azriel was quiet the following morning. More so than usual. Eris had picked up on it at the beginning of breakfast. Now, with a keen eye, he watches the shadowsinger push the food around his plate with a fork. Eris's mother is absent from the table, having wanted to try to speak to her daughter and thought bringing her breakfast would somehow further any progress made. Unfortunately, the rest of the Vanserra brothers didn't have any prior engagements, meaning Eris could not freely speak to Azriel as he had wanted since the night before.

Eris had lost his temper the night before, unable to contain his anger towards the Lord he was trying to extract information from. In that moment, his emotions had gotten the better of him, and he resorted to using his magic to intimidate the male. While Eris didn't regret his actions towards the Lord, a proper prick, he deeply regretted allowing Azriel to witness his outburst. Now aware of the origin of Azriel's scars, Eris carried a heavy burden of guilt, and it continued to weigh upon him. He didn't want his mate to perceive him as a cruel sadist, nor did he want Azriel to associate him with the notion that Rhysand fed upon his people. While he cannot fault the Night High Lord—he was only warning those he sought to protect—Autumn's evil reputation relied heavily upon Beron. With him gone, Eris hopes to reconcile relations with all courts.

In most courts, cautionary tales are shared about Autumn and its inhabitants, both male and female. These stories paint a bleak picture of wickedness and corruption, instilling trepidation in anyone who listens. While it was not entirely unfounded, Autumn was not solely populated by odious individuals. Amidst the darkness, there were also dreamers who sought something more, those who dared to defy the stereotypes and expectations of their court. And Eris wants to help them thrive.

Eris blinked, his attention refocusing as he realized his brother had been speaking. He opened his mouth to ask Cain to repeat himself but noticed that his brother's eyes were not on him, but on Azriel. Azriel, bless him, looked as uncomfortable as ever when addressed by anyone other than Eris. The High Lord couldn't help but smile, finding it almost endearing.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Cain demands, his dislike for Azriel clearer than the morning sky. "Do you know how to help her yet? Have you made any progress at all?" His voice is heavy with annoyance.

"Cain." Eris interjects absently, his small amusement laced with a warning.

Eris finds he quite enjoys how uneasy Azriel seems to be around his brothers. The feeling gives way to entertainment as he watches the careful tells his mate gives away, something he still needs to work on—the twitch of his jaw, the bristle of his glorious wings. What Eris would give to touch the seemingly delicate, velvety skin. On second thought, Eris would settle with simply touching his mate. Although he doubts that will be taken well any time soon. That doesn't mean he can't tease the shadowsinger. He loves nothing more than winding the male up.

"She seems placid when she cannot see. I believe my shadows have greatly improved her cooperation. She... she allowed me to wash her hands last night." Azriel says, his voice as quiet and measured as it always is.

Roux is the first to break free from the surprise that has overtaken the table. He relaxes back into his chair with a roll of his eyes. "Yes, and how helpful it is for her to have clean hands, all the better for her to touch your—"

Eris's growl cuts through the room, drowning out Roux's vile words. "You will behave yourself brother," Eris snarls, his patience wearing thin, "or you will leave."

"I do believe I still have twenty-eight days and two months before I must listen to you." Roux drawls, nonchalantly sipping from his cup of wine.

"And I do believe your timeline dictates your last days of debauchery, not your choice of dismissing my orders." Eris retorts, his annoyance with his brother intensifying.