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𝐀𝐙𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑. Not since they left Hewn City. Not since Rhysand uttered the words that sealed their fate—a bargain.
She had stood in that throne room, staring Rhysand down as if he were the one who had made a mistake. And maybe, in some ways, he had. Because instead of finding a way to remove her from the equation, he had bound them all to her.
Azriel had spent centuries learning how to read people, how to see through them with nothing more than a glance. But Alicent? She was a locked door. A fortress built from ice and iron. The only sign that anything lingered beneath that surface had been in the way her fingers twitched—subtle, controlled, as if resisting the urge to do something reckless.
And now, she was their problem because Rhysand gave her a foothold in their world.
Azriel sat at the long dining table in the House of Wind, shadows curling at his shoulders as the conversation drifted around him. He listened, silent and watchful, as Rhysand and Amren argued their case, as Cassian sat tense beside him with his arms crossed.
They had not told Morrigan. Not yet. He had expected it to come up the moment they arrived, but Rhysand had made the choice to keep it from her—at least for now. Whether it was a mistake or a necessary precaution remained to be seen.
He flexed his fingers, rolling his shoulders as if that could rid him of the tension coiling beneath his skin. It didn't.
"She'll have to come to Velaris," Rhysand said, finally breaking the silence.
Cassian, leaning back in his chair, exhaled sharply. "We don't have much of a choice, do we? The bargain's made."
"There's always a choice," Azriel muttered under his nose.
Amren, sitting cross-legged on a cushioned chair, tilted her head, considering him. "You're opposed to it."
Of course he was. Bringing Alicent into Velaris—into their city—was a mistake. Whatever her true intentions, whatever she thought she could gain from working with Rhysand, she was still Keir's heir. Still a product of the Hewn City, shaped by its cruelty. "I don't trust her,"
Cassian scoffed. "We don't trust anyone."
He shot him a look, but Cassian only smirked.
Rhysand steepled his fingers beneath his chin. "She's useful, Az."
"She's dangerous," he corrected him, raising his eyebrows.
"So are we," Amren countered.
Azriel bit back his retort. He knew the dangers of underestimating someone like Alicent. She was cunning, calculating. And that gold-lined eyes of hers—it wasn't just the look of someone who had learned how to survive. It was the look of someone who was waiting. "You shouldn't have made that bargain."
