A Court of Dusk and Shadows

BONUS: A FIELD TRIP ACROSS REALMS

The aroma of garlic and herbs filled the air, a pleasant surprise in a world so different from their own. Azriel was at the stove, a sight Ileana never truly expected to see. Gone were the leather Illyrian armor and weaponry, replaced by simple jeans and a soft cotton shirt that clung to the powerful muscles of his back. The sight was both disarmingly normal and incredibly alluring.

They'd been in Midgard for a few days now, adjusting to a different rhythm of life. Ileana had taken care of the inheritance left by her father. With the newfound resources, she'd bought this penthouse – a sanctuary whenever they craved a taste of Midgard. The reactions had been a source of amusement. Cassian and Mor were already making plans to visit, clearly enticed by the world's wonders.

The rest of their companions were similarly enjoying their exploration. Rhys and Feyre, with Nyx happily ensconced in his new 'wheeled chariot,' were exploring the bustling city, Feyre's artistic soul no doubt sated by the galleries and museums. Nesta and Cassian reveled in the music scene, the freedom of music and dance a stark contrast to the more formal entertainment of the courts. Bryce, of course, was in her element, eager to show Nesta the joys of recording everything on her own cellphone.

Mor and Emerie had found solace with Fury and Juniper, amazed by the acceptance, the simple freedom of love that the two women didn't have to fight for in this world.

And, of course, there was the bonding time. The males, a formidable mix of power and personalities, had found common ground in sparring sessions and the explosive thrill of a firing range. The lingering scent of mirthroot was a tell-tale sign of the mischief they'd likely gotten into.

And the women... they had forged an easy camaraderie. City walks, manicures (Bryce was oddly thrilled about this ritual), sparring, and poring over Jesiba's collection of ancient texts. Amren was in her element amongst the grimoires and trinkets at Griffin Antiquities. The girls had also sparred, sharing techniques, pooling their knowledge gleaned from ancient texts and their own hard-won victories. And oh, the joy of introducing Nesta to firearms. They wouldn't be leaving without a shopping spree at the nearest gun shop.

Now, though, it was just her and Azriel. A moment of stolen tranquility before the lively chaos of their family returned. A hint of mischief danced in her eyes as she approached him, her fingers tracing the intricate lines of his tattoos.

His muscles tensed under her touch, a testament to years of honed reflexes. He turned off the stove and faced her, his hands settling possessively on her waist. "How was your day, Starlight?" he asked, his voice a rumble of contentment.

"Good," she replied, the smile on her lips a reflection of the warmth blooming in her chest. "Dealing with political bullshit, you know? Bryce, Ruhn, and I will be holding a press conference tomorrow to address issues about the Valbaran Fae."

A hint of pride flickered across Azriel's face. "My mate," he murmured, the endearment warming her through, "always so responsible."

Ileana leaned in, a teasing gleam in her eyes. "Hmm, yes. I do deserve a reward, don't I?"

Azriel didn't need prompting. A low, playful growl escaped him as he swept Ileana into his arms. She squealed in surprise, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Her laughter, a joyous melody, was cut short as he captured her lips in a searing kiss.

Ileana met his fervor with her own, her hands tangling in his hair at the nape of his neck. Each touch, a reassurance, a silent celebration of their connection.

Azriel carried her towards their bedroom, depositing her on the soft sheets. His gaze, smoldering with desire, raked over her as he began to remove her clothing. Ileana watched, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.