Mastermind | | Azriel

5

Azriel helped Elysia settle into the apartment Rhys found for her. He took her shopping, helped her pick things out when she asked him to. He helped her move furniture and hang decor and he did everything to make it feel more like a home than that apartment in the Day Court.

She baked cookies for him that night, and he brought her flowers the next morning.

Far too quickly, she became his every thought. The trap he had set with himself as bait for a monster was long forgotten, replaced with the smell of flowers and visions of a pretty pink apartment and a lovely smile. She was fast friends with Mor, and even Amren cracked a smile a few times in her presence. Rhys adored her for the joy she brought Azriel, a joy he had been lacking for so long. Cassian, though...Cassian wondered if it was all moving too fast. If maybe she was too perfect.

"It hasn't been long, is all I'm saying," Cassian approached the subject with caution, "I just don't think...I mean, be happy, of course, but don't invest too much in this. In her. What do you really even know about her?"

"I know plenty," Azriel knew it wasn't true as he said it. "I know enough," he amended, and that felt like the truth.

"But what's the rush? It doesn't hurt to take your time. She did go through something really traumatic the night you met her," he brought up, not mentioning that she really didn't seem all that traumatized. Maybe it wasn't a fair judgment to make, but after how shaken she had been that first day and the next morning...he couldn't be the only one who noticed it.

"I haven't—we haven't done anything. We've only been talking," Azriel corrected, "and you know I wouldn't—if she needed space, I'd give it to her. But she wants me around." The way he said it reminded Cassian of just how unwanted Azriel had been in childhood, rejected and cast aside and treated like less than dirt. And now here was this lovely, wonderful girl who wanted him around all the time.

"It's a bit much though, isn't it?" Cassian mused. "We hardly see you anymore. You're always with her. Most of the times we see you now, it's with her there too. You're barely away from her for more than sleeping—and that's when you don't sleep at her place. When was the last time you slept in your own bed?"

"Why is it so bad to you that someone wants me?" The emphasis was different this time, not on the fact that he was wanted, but on the fact that it was him and not Cassian who was wanted. An old wound they usually left alone.

"It's not bad that she wants you," he assures him quickly, "it's just...it's fast, Az. You have to admit that. It's fast, and it's not like you."

Azriel only shrugged, because he couldn't argue those points no matter how much he wanted to. It was fast, and it was unlike him. He used to be careful, but he wasn't with her. He didn't feel like he had to be careful with her.

"We don't really know her," Cassian continued, "none of us. We brought her here and we still don't much about her. She doesn't tell us much, does she? She comes and she smiles and laughs and she makes cookies and cakes and all sorts of treats and even Amren is falling for it—"

"Falling for it? Why does it have to be an act? Why can't you believe this is just who she is? And we do know about her. We know where she grew up, how and why she left. Rhys looked in her mind before letting her come here. We know enough about her, and she'll tell us more when she's ready."

"She's literally perfect for you. So pretty and sweet and kind and all those things you love and despite you being around almost twenty four seven she misses you when you're gone and never needs space or time for herself and she likes anything you say you like. I don't think she has an single opinion that is different than any of yours. No one is that perfect for another person unless they're actively trying to be. Think about it, Az. Like, I love you like family but I don't want to be around you constantly and I think you make stupid fucking choices sometimes and I think it's gross that you like asparagus. You're not perfect to me and I'm not perfect to you because no one is. And somehow she is and we all just pretend that's normal?"

"Maybe we just haven't found the things we disagree about yet," Azriel countered, "like you said, it hasn't been long."

"Fair enough," Cassian conceded before finding a new angle. "Have you told her about the hit you took out on yourself? If you care about her, she should know you put a price on your own head and could die the moment you leave Velaris. Because you will eventually leave Velaris again. She deserves to know."

Azriel glared, shadows writhing in response to his growing frustration. He shook his head and stormed off. It was Elysia he went to to rid himself of the worries Cassian had tried to fill his head with. Like she always did, she smiled when she saw him—welcomed him in, told him she missed him so sincerely one might think it had been years and not mere hours since they last saw each other.

"Be honest with me," Azriel requested cautiously, "am I being overbearing at all here?"

"Overbearing?" she echoed, eyebrows furrowed. "Of course not. I love how much you're around, and I appreciate everything you do for me." Her fingers ghosted down his arm, a soft, comforting touch. "Where is this coming from?"

"Nowhere," he lied, offering up a reassuring smile, "I just wanted to make sure you're okay with all of this. With me."

"I'm happy. Aren't you?" she asked, a frown replacing the lovely smile that usually graced her face.

"I am," he promised, "I haven't ever been this happy before."

"Good," she murmured, her fingers tracing lightly over his jaw now before her hand fell back to her side, her cheeks pink as she seemed to realize what she did.

Looking at Elysia, Azriel knew Cassian had made at least one point. He had to tell her what he did. He had to tell her the stupid, stupid choice he made to put his own life on the line.

"I did something," he began carefully, "before we met. I did something stupid."

"I can't imagine you doing anything stupid," she denied, her tone comforting. He shook his head, because he certainly did a lot of stupid things now that he thought about it.

"There's an assassin," he continued, "he's very well known. Rhys wanted me to find him. To do that, I put up a contract for my own life, so I could catch him when he tries to kill me."

"And he took the contract," she concluded quietly, "he's going to kill you."

"He's going to try," he corrected, "he won't succeed. I won't let him."

"If he's so well known...it's because he's good at what he does, isn't it? How are you sure he won't win?" she asked, and Azriel faltered a little at that phrasing. Win. How are you sure he won't win? Not that he won't kill him, but that he won't win. He brushed the thought aside. He was overthinking it.

"He won't kill me," he swore, "he wouldn't be the first to try and he won't be the last to fail. He may be good, but I'm better."

"I can't believe you hired this assassin to kill you. Why did Rhys even want you to find him?" she questioned.

"He worried someone might hire the assassin to kill him. There aren't many people outside of Velaris who are happy about his ascension to the throne. He's a halfbreed, not a full blooded High Fae. Some believe that makes him unworthy. And some believe that deeply enough to want him dead so someone else can rule."

"There's something more you're not telling me. There's another reason Rhys wants this assassin," she realized, and how she caught on, Azriel couldn't even begin to know. But he wouldn't lie to her.

"Rhys's mother and sister were murdered in his place by the ruling family of the Spring Court. He doesn't think they did the dirty work themselves. They're not entirely stupid. They know he's stronger than them. He could have misted them all with half a thought if he had been the one to show up. So, he thinks they hired the assassin to do it," he admitted, and her eyebrows raised slightly.

"The assassin would do that? Murder two innocent females just because of who they're related to?" she asked, to which he shrugged.

"He's an assassin. He doesn't have morals. It's all about how much he's getting paid."

She stared at him for a long few seconds before asking, "how much are you paying him to kill you?"

"A lot."

"Then he's going to make sure he gets it done, isn't he? If it's all about how much he's getting paid."