A Court of Gold and Shadows

I breathe flames each time I talk - Chapter 6

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Chapter 6: Better than revenge

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It's the High Lord.

Azriel felt the wards shudder and then snap closed, his mouth ceasing to make sounds in the middle of his conversation with Cassian.

"Oh no," he breathed when he felt the ice-cold fury pour over their mating bond.

That was all he needed before he forced himself to get out of bed and snap at the shadows that tried to hold him down. For once they listened to him, probably because they knew that he was too fucking furious to be held down.

"You are supposed to stay in bed!" Cassian protested. Azriel ignored that as he hobbled to the door.

"My mate is going head to head with the fucking High Lord of the Night Court, I am not staying in the fucking bed!" He snapped. There was to hope that they wouldn't outright kill each other but somehow he didn't think that Oriana, in all her righteous fury, would be in a very forgiving mood.

Cassian finally acquiesced, fitting himself under a shoulder and dragging him outside onto the porch where Nesta stood, staring at the spectacle before them.

Rhys was trussed up like a turkey, suspended midair, merrily swinging in the wind, wings unable to move much in the golden bubble Oriana had him in.

And Oriana...Oriana stood in front of him, hands on her hips and glaring at Rhys.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Rhysand! I told you to stay away," Cassian snapped. "How? Is that your magic?" He asked Oriana, who just shrugged.

"It's an enchantment. I reworked my warding net. That you broke," she answered, her voice even.

"When the fuck did you even do this?" Azriel demanded.

"Last night when you were sleeping, Sweetling. I was bored," Oriana answered. "And you are supposed to be in bed. I got this well in hand." Of course. Sometimes she slid out of the bed in the middle of the night because she had an idea for something and needed to write it down before she could forget it. These days she kept a notebookonn on her bedside table, though the sound of a pen scratching over parchment had oftentimes woken him up, only to reach out and pull her against his chest. "It's like a mouse trap. Just for High Lords. Who stick their nose into things that are absolutely none of their business," she said brightly.

Oh for cauldron's sake.

"I realise that I may have misstepped," Rhys dared to say, still dangling head down in the air.

Oriana's head snapped towards him. Azriel held back a grimace while Nesta started to outright grin.

"Misstepped?" Oriana repeated voice light. The magical bindings jerked Rhys up. "Is that what we call that now?"

In his defence, Rhys didn't even tried to get out of it of his magical prison. He probably realised that trying anyway wouldn't be a good idea. Who knew what else Oriana had worked into her enchantment when she had been working in it?

"I am surprised you haven't set me on fire yet," Rhys said drily. "Like last time." Last time?"

"Oh, all in good time," Oriana said brightly. "I enjoy your fear too much to cut this short."

Azriel probably... definitely shouldn't find this attractive. But he did.

He really, really did. It was the pure magical power that poured from her, the intelligence that it must have taken to make a ward like that, her mind at work, protecting herself, protecting him.