In the Shadows

Chapter 21: The Mating Bond Question

Azriel had planned the evening with care. He knew Skye needed a break from the ever-intensifying political drama within her court, and perhaps, deep down, he needed it too. The idea of taking her away, just for a few hours, had seized him earlier that day—a desire to simply escape with her, if only briefly.

They left quietly, under the cloak of night, flying through the vast sky above the forest just outside her court. He took her to a secluded spot near a lake, one he'd found during one of his reconnaissance missions. Moonlight sparkled on the water's surface, and the air was filled with the sound of the forest's nocturnal symphony—a peaceful contrast to the world of politics and power they'd left behind.

Once they'd landed, Azriel set a fire and spread out a blanket. He noticed Skye's quiet, contemplative expression as she took in their surroundings, and for a moment, he felt a sense of calm he hadn't known in a long time. Here, away from it all, it felt like they could just be themselves.

He'd brought along a bottle of fine wine from Velaris, one he'd been saving for a special occasion. They sipped in comfortable silence at first, and as the warmth of the wine settled over them, their conversation turned from light banter to more serious topics. Skye's laughter faded, and she sighed, looking away.

"Sometimes, I feel like I'm drowning in my own court," she confessed softly. "All the scheming, the constant vigilance—it's like I'm never really safe, never really free."

He reached over, resting his hand on hers. "You're stronger than any of them," he replied, his voice quiet but firm. "And you're not alone, Skye. Not as long as I'm here."

She met his gaze, and something shifted in the air between them, a current of tension and anticipation that neither could ignore. He felt his heartbeat quicken as he leaned closer, his hand moving from hers to brush a strand of hair from her face. She closed her eyes, and in that moment, he could no longer hold back.

Their lips met, tentative at first, then with a hunger that had been building since the day they'd met. They were both on fire, losing themselves in each other, the world around them fading away. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, and she responded with equal fervor, wrapping her arms around his neck.

They broke apart, breathing heavily, staring at each other with a mixture of surprise and longing. Azriel felt a warmth within him, a sense of rightness. But as they continued, that certainty began to waver.

....

The mating bond didn't snap into place. There was no sudden, undeniable pull that he'd heard others describe. Instead, there was only him and Skye, wrapped in each other's arms, and a feeling of connection that, while powerful, lacked the sense of fate he'd expected.

Afterward, as they lay together on the blanket, an uneasy silence settled between them. Azriel's mind raced, torn between the desire he felt for her and the nagging doubt that lingered at the back of his thoughts. He'd always assumed that if he were meant to be with someone, the bond would reveal itself—that it would be as clear as the night sky above them. But now, he wasn't so sure.

Skye sensed his hesitation, the way he'd turned slightly away from her, his face a mask of confusion. She reached out, brushing a hand over his arm.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, struggling to find the right words. "I...I thought it would be different," he admitted finally. "The bond—it didn't snap into place. I don't know what that means for us."

She sat up, hurt flashing in her eyes. "So, what we just shared wasn't enough for you?"

"It's not that," he said quickly, sitting up as well. "It's just—everyone I know, they have this bond, this certainty. I thought that's what I needed too, to know this was real."

Her expression hardened, and she pulled away from him. "Do you really need some mystical sign to tell you what's in your own heart?" Her voice was steady, but he could sense the hurt and anger beneath her words. "If that's what you need, Azriel, then maybe I'm not enough for you."

He reached for her, but she stood up, brushing off her clothes and looking down at him with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "I've fought for everything in my life, and I refuse to be just another question mark for you."

He stared up at her, speechless, guilt washing over him. She was right; he'd let his fears and doubts get in the way, allowing himself to be blinded by the idea of a bond rather than seeing what was right in front of him.

"Skye, wait," he began, but she shook her head, turning away from him.

"I expected more from you," she said softly, the pain evident in her voice. She walked back toward the lake's edge, her shoulders tense, and he made no move to follow her.

Azriel sat there for a long time after she'd gone, staring into the fire, his mind a chaotic mess. He knew he'd hurt her, and he hated himself for it. He'd let his doubts about the bond cloud his judgment, and in doing so, he'd pushed her away.

When he finally returned to the court alone, he knew he needed to make things right. But as he walked the familiar halls, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd lost something precious—and that it might be too late to get it back