A Court of Blood & Mercy || Elriel Dual POV

Chapter 27 - The Lady of the House

Elain blinked, her heavy dry lids struggling to open, stretching her parched skin as she tried to understand what exactly she was looking at.

Foggy and weak, she almost wondered if she had died— passed away all alone on this forlorn window seat in her laughably expensive closet, her heart simply giving out before dumping her spirit into the pastures of the great beyond where souls spent forever.

And really, she thought, death was the only thing that would explain this.

Because why was she looking at Azriel's face, here, in the Autumn Court? Why did she feel hazel and shadows on her skin when she should be alone?

She blinked again as a sweet thought settled in her chest.

What if he was real?

She tried speaking to him, reaching a trembling finger to his face. She almost felt delirious, her face melting into a sigh as she beheld the familiar yet strange planes and edges of his features. Maybe she was having a vision again, like she used to, back in Velaris after the Cauldron.

But then the vision was stroking her face, his fingers dragging through her hair as she realized his voice was all but screaming her name.

And she felt like she was surfacing from a black lake, Azriel's panic hauling her from the great beyond as the ringing in her ears began to quiet, releasing her into reality with sharp acuity. His voice was loud, breaking through her ears as she suddenly felt every nerve in her body screaming and thundering, pulsing from the bitter cold in her bones as her throat began stinging, the dehydration pounding in her temples as she felt her brows pull together.

"Elain!"

Azriel was crying out, a guttural wail from his throat echoing through the padded closet as he drew her to his chest, lifting and grabbing at her, as if he actually had found her dead in the middle of a battlefield, his hands running across her as if he was trying to close a gaping wound. And she almost felt like that— like she had a real wound in her broken ribcage, oozing and gushing vicious blood onto herself and the dirty ground around her. Because maybe she really was dying on an old battleground in some sense: laying here in Autumn, all alone.

Only... she wasn't alone anymore.

"Azriel?" Her hoarse whisper drew from her broken chest as she blinked at him again, trying to process what was happening. "You came for me."

He paused, swallowing deeply as he seemed to sigh from within, his cheeks stained with the ghost of a tear as he gazed at her.

"Always."

He croaked the word as he began rocking her, pulling her head to his chest and dragging his wing around her bare skin as Elain continued to blink, disoriented and slipping back and forth between consciousness.

She wanted to fall back asleep.

It was just so... unpleasant... keeping her eyes open. And now that Azriel was here, the thought of slipping away in his warm arms was even more appealing. It was like she was in a nest, tucked under his wings. Like she was a newly hatched eagle nesting beneath her mother's wing. It was so cozy. So safe here. And she was so cold— why not fall into a sweet slumber?

She began nodding off again when Azriel seemed to pat her face, trying to get her to open her eyes. "My tattoo—" his voice was still frantic, and his fingers against her cheeks almost felt like a waking smack, desperate as he apparently was, to rouse her.

She frowned.

"My tattoo Elain! It was burning through my skin. You— Elain— what happened?"

She forced her mouth to open, every syllable taking more effort than the last, though she refused to open her eyes, sighing slightly as she nestled her nose toward the crook of his wing. Why was he being so loud? "I don't know."