𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚖(𝙰𝙲𝙾𝚃𝙰𝚁)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶-𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯

Rhys sauntered toward the two males standing by the dining room doors, giving Feyre and me the option to stay or join.

"Hey, he told us that if we're uncomfortable, we can leave," Feyre reminded me, taking my hand in hers. I took a deep breath, nodding my head.

"Come on. We don't bite. Unless you ask us to," the larger one, Cassian, said.

I flushed deep red, and Cassian snorted when he noticed. Feyre squeezed my hand, encouraging me to step forward.

"The last I heard, Cassian, no one has ever taken you up on that offer," Rhys joked. The second one snorted.

"So fancy tonight, brother. And you made the poor girls dress up, too," Cassian winked at us.

"This is Azriel--my spymaster," Rhys introduced us to the second male.

"Welcome," was all Azriel said, his voice low, almost flat, as he extended a brutally scarred hand to us.

The shape of it was normal—but the skin It looked like it had been swirled and smudged and rippled. Burns. They must have been horrific if even their immortal blood had not been able to heal them.

Feyre shook his hand first. Then, he reached to me and I shook his hand, and his rough fingers squeezed mine. His skin was as cold as his face.

"You're brothers?" Feyre asked them.

"Brothers in the sense that all bastards are brothers of a sort," Rhys clarified.

"And--you?" Feyre asked Cassian.

"I command Rhys's armies," Cassian shrugged, tucking his wings behind him.

"Cassian also excels at pissing everyone off. Especially amongst our friends. So, as a friend of Rhysand good luck," Azriel clarified.

"How the hell did you make that bone ladder in the Middengard Wyrm's lair when you look like your own bones can snap at any moment?" Cassian asked as he looked Feyre up and down.

My head snapped toward him at the words, and I had to wonder if he was Under the Mountain. Had he seen us dancing?

"How the hell did you manage to survive this long without anyone killing you?" Feyre demanded. I would've laughed had I not been so intimidated.

Cassian tipped back his head and laughed, a full, rich sound that bounced off the ruddy stones of the House. Azriel's brows flicked up with approval as the shadows seemed to wrap tighter around him.

Mor breezed onto the balcony with, "If Cassian's howling, I hope it means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth."

"I don't know why I ever forget you two are related," Cassian told Mor, jerking his chin at Rhys, who rolled his eyes. "You two and your clothes."

"I wanted to impress Feyre and Mary. You could have at least bothered to comb your hair," she said. She did look quite beautiful in a long, red gown.

"Unlike some people," Cassian said, "I have better things to do with my time than sit in front of the mirror for hours."

"Yes," Mor said, tossing her long hair over a shoulder, "since swaggering around Velaris--"

"We have company," was Azriels soft warning, wings again spreading a bit as he herded them through the open balcony doors to the dining room. Mor patted Azriel on the shoulder as she dodged his outstretched wing.

"Relax, Az--no fighting tonight. We promised Rhys," Mor reminded him.

The lurking shadows vanished entirely as Azriels head dipped a bit—his night-dark hair sliding over his handsome face as if to shield him from that mercilessly beautiful grin.