In the Shadows

Chapter 9: Family Drama Unfolds

Skye sat by the window of her temporary accommodation, the light filtering through the sheer curtains as she turned a page in the book she was reading. She had been at the Night Court for weeks now, enough time to become somewhat familiar with its rhythms, its people, and the subtle tension that always seemed to hang in the air. There were moments when she thought she was beginning to understand this strange, beautiful place. But then, like a gust of wind that swept through unexpectedly, news would come from her own court—her home—and remind her that she was never truly at peace.

It wasn't just the distance that gnawed at her. It was the knowledge that even while she was here, hundreds of miles away, her family was plotting. Her brother, Kian, was growing more ambitious by the day, pushing harder to claim the High Lord position that their father still held. Skye had known from a young age that power was everything in her family. But she had never imagined that her own brother would see her as a threat, or worse—that he might be willing to eliminate her to secure his place.

Today, however, was meant to be a quiet one. The reports from home had been few and far between, and she had allowed herself the luxury of losing herself in a book. The silence of the house soothed her, even as the knowledge of the looming storm brewed quietly in the back of her mind.

But the silence wouldn't last. It never did.

Azriel had never been one to lose control. Even when the world around him was in chaos, he was the calm in the storm, the shadow that slipped through unnoticed, gathering information, dealing in secrets. But today, as he stormed through the halls of the River House, his control was a fragile thing, hanging by a thread. His shadows swirled around him, dark and restless, mirroring the turmoil inside him.

It had started innocently enough—his usual rounds of gathering intelligence, collecting whispers from the shadows. But then he had heard it: whispers of an assassination plot, the target none other than Skye. His mind had gone blank for a moment, the words echoing in his head. Assassination. Skye.

It shouldn't have mattered. He had no allegiance to her, no reason to care beyond the usual responsibilities of keeping Velaris safe. She was a guest, a powerful ally, but still a stranger in many ways. And yet, the moment he heard the rumors, something had snapped inside him.

Azriel couldn't explain it. All he knew was that when he returned to his room, the fury inside him had erupted. His desk had been the first casualty, followed by the nearby bookshelf. His shadows lashed out, the dark tendrils wrapping around anything within reach, tearing it apart. He didn't stop until his room was a wreck, the floor littered with broken wood and scattered papers.

Cassian had been the one to find him, as always. His brother-in-arms, always ready with a joke, even in the most inappropriate situations.

"Rough day?" Cassian had leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he surveyed the damage. "Or are you just redecorating?"

Azriel had glared at him, though it lacked its usual intensity. "Go away, Cassian."

But Cassian had stepped inside, his boots crunching on the remnants of a broken chair. "You know, if you wanted some help breaking stuff, you could've called me. I'm excellent at this sort of thing."

Azriel had clenched his fists, trying to rein in the tempest of emotions swirling inside him. He had no idea why he was so furious, why the thought of Skye being in danger had struck him like a ton of bricks. But it had, and now he had to deal with it.

Cassian, ever the keen observer, had raised an eyebrow. "You're acting weird, Az."

"I'm not acting weird."