A Song of Faithless Shadows

68. Easy on You

Azriel

I left Gwyneth not long ago when she offered to hold him while I had a bath, but when I returned, she was fast asleep on the couch, him just as passed out on her chest.

I watched her for awhile, Nyx rising and falling with every breath she took. I remember her telling me how much she loved the kids who came in and out of the temple. It's easy to see why they loved her too. Sometimes, she soothed that young boy inside of me who was afraid of the dark. There was such gentleness to her with that unyielding strength.

So it is with great difficulty that I leave them, going to the kitchen to make dinner. I make a less spicy version of the chicken and rice my mom used to make for me so Nyx can eat it, though I'm not halfway done before Gwyneth and him come slipping into the kitchen, Nyx in high spirits. "Ah-ah!" He says enthusiastically, lurching for me.

We were still working on his words. He had mama and dada down pretty good, but me and Cass were Ah-Ah and Cah-ca  respectively. "There's my favorite boy," I reach out for him, tucking him into my arm as he giggles toothlessly.

"This is domestic," Gwyneth taunts, kissing my cheek as she takes my spoon to keep the rice stirred. "Uncle looks good on you, Azriel."

I smile, stepping behind her, letting Nyx watch her stir, which is endlessly fascinating to him and ends in him reaching for the hot spoon. Gwyneth snags an extra spoon, slipping it into Nyx's chubby hands before he can get too upset, and that spoon, naturally, goes straight into his mouth. "I think Briar would just about die from jealousy," I tell Gwyneth.

She laughs. "Yeah, imagine if he heard you call Nyx your favorite boy," she tuts. "Curtains would be shredded."

"Gods, let's hope he didn't hear that," I shiver. "Taste it. What do you think?"

She brings the spoon to her lips, the rice sparingly seasoned. Pulling a plate out of the cabinet, she puts some of it onto the ceramic, making sure the chicken is nice and shredded and plopping some peas on top.

"Well?" I ask her.

"Needs some spice," she says, holding out her arms to Nyx and changing her voice. "Hi, baby? You wanna hang with me while Uncle Azzy makes some adult food?"

Nyx giggles enthusiastically, all but jumping into her arms as she hands me the spoon and tells me to get to work. "Wow, let's hope Briar didn't hear you using the same voice you use on him on Nyx," I tut. "You gonna use it on me next?"

She squishes my cheek with her free hand— which Nyx finds utterly hilarious. "Don't pretend my voice doesn't drive you wild no matter what tone it takes," she says sweetly, patting my cheek once before grabbing Nyx's plate and taking him to eat.

I stare after her for awhile, my focus so wrapped up in her that I nearly let the rice burn.

She falls asleep on my shoulder that night, Nyx asleep in my arms after a stack of bedtime stories that Gwyneth read to him with such animation that his own giggling wore him out. Rhys came in around midnight, brows raising when he saw the display.

I rolled my eyes as him as he gently took Nyx from my arms, careful not to stir him. Cozy, he says to me mentally.

Yeah, yeah, I mutter in my thoughts, and he chuckles softly, leaving with his son tucked gently in his arms.

I watch Gwyneth awhile longer, admiring that I get to have this. That I get to have her hair splayed over my chest, her hand on my thigh, her cheek pressed against my shoulder. She's my mate, but beyond that, she's choosing me. Everyday, she's choosing me.

And as I carry her off to bed, I murmur, "I choose you, too," to her, kissing her brow.

...

Gwyneth