A Song of Faithless Shadows

46. Desperato

Azriel

I'm nearly asleep when Cassian barges into my bedroom with a full bottle of whiskey. "No," I say before he even opens his mouth.

"Nesta told me that her, Emerie, and Gwyn are going out tonight to celebrate how well it went with Tamlin," Cassian explains. "You need to be there."

I yawn. "Doesn't sound like I was invited."

"You definitely were," Cassian says. "Nesta told me exactly where they were going, said I'm welcome to meet them there later on."

"And that means I'm invited?" I ask skeptically.

"Trust me, Azzy. I know Nesta. She wants you and Gwyn to happen as much as I do." He sounded quite convinced.

"I didn't realize that was something the two of you talked about," I shift unconformably, suddenly aware of how obvious I've been. And I guess obvious is good sometimes, but it doesn't look like it's helped in this case.

"All the time," Cassian answers, uncorking the bottle with his teeth. My mouth drops open, and he quickly clarifies. "She doesn't know about the bond, though. I didn't tell her that. She only knows what she has observed." I still didn't like that this was something they talked about.

"And will she be mad if you keep the bond from her?" I ask.

Cassian shrugs. "She'll understand that it's not my secret to tell," he pours the glasses heavily, though momentarily stilling. "I think."

I laugh, taking the glass, though saying, "Cassian, we can't crash their night out."

"We were invited!" He insists.

"You were invited."

"You're my brother. It's a given that you'd come with me," he rolls his eyes.

"It is not."

"Rhys is going," Cassian points out.

My brows raise. "Why is Rhys going?"

"Because Feyre is going?" Cassian offers like this is information I already knew.

I rub my brow. "You could've just led with saying that everyone is going. I mean, next you're gonna tell me Amren is going."

"Oh, no," Cassian quickly shakes his head. "Amren isn't going."

I take the glass from him slowly, sipping it with caution. "You're being weird."

"Probably," Cassian says. I decide I don't care. I decide that I need to know for certain if Gwyneth truly doesn't want me around. I figure that it will be evident by her reaction to seeing me at Rita's.

Right?

I drain my glass, going to pour more as I tell Cassian, "don't let me make a fool of myself, Cassian."

"I would never," Cassian groans, offended. "So in the spirit of that, you should really put something else on."

...

As Cassian directed, I show up to Rita's in a button-up of silk, a fabric he proclaimed to be like catnip for women. I thought he was full of shit, but put it on anyway because it didn't have any cat hair on it. It didn't matter anyway. I wasn't after women. I was after one woman. Singular.

Nesta is unenthused when she sees us, and as I begin to think perhaps she didn't invite Cassian, she says, "you're late."

"I know," Cassian prepares to throw me under the carriage. "Someone was dragging his wings."

Nesta's eyes flick to me, objective. "Nice shirt."

"Thanks..." I say hesitantly, feeling like I need another drink. Before I can locate the bar, however, Rhys has looped his arm through mine, taking me on a walk.