In the Shadows

Chapter 22: The Aftermath

Skye hadn't spoken to Azriel since that night at the lake. She kept herself busy, plunging back into the daily matters of her court with an intensity that bordered on obsession. She could still feel the phantom weight of his touch, his hands on her skin, his lips moving against hers with a passion that had felt as inevitable as the rising sun. And yet, there had been no bond. There was no sudden, clear sign that they were meant to be, no resounding confirmation from the universe. Instead, she was left with emptiness, and the suspicion that she had somehow failed.

Back in her court, the idea of a mating bond wasn't as deeply embedded in their culture. Relationships weren't bound by an invisible thread, some ethereal signpost guiding them to their destined partner. They chose for themselves, trusting their own hearts, not a predestined fate. But she knew it was different for Azriel. His people had raised him to believe in the bond, to see it as the ultimate proof of love, loyalty, and commitment.

In the solitude of her chambers, Skye replayed his words over and over in her mind. She couldn't shake the doubt that he had only wanted her if she came with the promise of something greater than herself. She'd never had to confront this kind of insecurity before—never had she felt like a choice to be weighed and measured. But now, she wondered if she could ever be enough for him.

Azriel found it hard to concentrate, too. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face—hurt, proud, and so very strong. Her words had cut him deeply, and he hadn't been able to shake the guilt that had settled in his chest. He knew he had made a mistake by letting his fear of the bond cloud his feelings for her. He hated that he'd caused her pain, but he also knew he couldn't give her the certainty she needed.

He felt torn. His mind flashed back to the times he'd seen his friends—their certainty, their joy, as they found their mates. He'd spent so many years thinking that he, too, needed that bond. That without it, his feelings would be somehow less real, less true. But with Skye, there was no such assurance. She'd shown him the rawness of her heart, her strength, and he'd been unable to match her vulnerability with the same level of conviction.

As he walked through the halls of her court, he couldn't help but feel out of place. The court members moved around him, whispering as he passed, their eyes filled with suspicion and curiosity. He could feel their judgment, their skepticism at the outsider in their midst. And he wondered if he belonged anywhere—if there was a place for him in Skye's life at all.

Azriel's Perspective

Azriel paced his chambers, words heavy on his tongue, but no one to hear them. He needed to speak, to sort through the confusion spinning in his mind.

"Why can't I just trust my feelings?" he murmured to himself, frustration spilling out. "She's incredible—more than I ever could've asked for. But... there's no bond. There's nothing telling me this is right. How do I know if this is even real?"

He rubbed his temples, trying to push away the doubt that lingered like a shadow. "Everyone else has it so easy. Cassian, Rhys—they all found their mates, and it was just... there. Clear as day. So why can't I feel that certainty? I thought I'd want this. I thought she'd be the one."

Azriel leaned against the edge of the desk, staring into the dark. "It would be so much simpler if I knew. If I could just feel that bond snap, I'd have the assurance I need. But what if this is the one chance I have? What if I'm throwing away something amazing just because it doesn't look the way I thought it would?"

He closed his eyes, seeing her face in his mind—proud, fierce, the way she'd looked at him after the lake. "Gods, I don't want to hurt her. She doesn't deserve to be made to feel like she's not enough, that she's somehow less because of my own stupid doubts. She's more than enough."