ACOTAR one shots, imagines and short stories

Where Fate Ends, We Begin (Azriel x Mor x OC)

Word count: 6138

Characters: Azriel x Mor x Elara (OC)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The clash of steel and scent of blood hung thick in the air, pressing in on Elara as she fought her way through the chaos, her gaze locked on one single target: Azriel. He lay unmoving amidst the chaos, his midnight wings crushed beneath him, his form ominously still. Her heart clenched painfully as she took in the sight of the blackened arrow lodged deep in his chest, close enough to pierce his heart. Every breath she took felt like fire in her lungs, panic clawing at her as she stumbled to his side.

"Azriel!" Elara fell to her knees beside him, her hands trembling as she hovered over his wound. His face was ashen, the colour drained from his skin, and his breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, each one fainter than the last. The blood that seeped from around the arrow seemed endless, staining her hands as she pressed down, desperate to stop the flow. She could feel him slipping away, feel a piece of her soul fracturing as his life bled out in her hands.

Mor and Cassian reached them at nearly the same time, both dropping to the ground beside Azriel, their faces twisted with horror and determination. Mor immediately extended her hands over the wound, a flicker of magic sparking to life at her fingertips as she tried to channel her healing power into his body. The faint glow shimmered over the arrow, lighting up the blood-soaked fabric of Azriel's tunic, and Elara felt a surge of hope, fragile but bright.

But the hope died as quickly as the magic. As Mor's power touched the wound, it fizzled and faded, dissipating uselessly against the poisoned flesh.

"It isn't working," Mor whispered, her voice taut with fear. She closed her eyes and tried again, her magic stronger this time, pouring everything she had into the spell. But as her power met the poisoned wound, it flickered and vanished, as if repelled by an unseen force. Frustration and dread lined her features as she pulled her hands back, trembling.

"Why isn't it working?" Elara's voice shook, desperation creeping into her words. "Can't you heal him?"

Mor didn't answer, her gaze fixed on the arrow with a growing horror that Elara didn't understand. She looked stricken, caught in some internal battle, her hands trembling as she hovered over Azriel's wound.

Cassian's face paled, his gaze shifting to the arrow embedded in Azriel's chest, realisation dawning in his eyes. He sank to his knees, his voice barely more than a whisper. "It's... it's an ash arrow."

Mor's head snapped up, the raw terror in her eyes mirrored in Cassian's own.

Elara felt her stomach drop, a horrible chill spreading through her veins as Cassian's words settled over her. An ash arrow. The words echoed in her mind, hollow and relentless. She felt herself pulling back, her heart pounding in her throat as dread swept through her.

"What... What does that mean?" Her voice was a whisper, barely able to force the words out.

Cassian swallowed hard, the weight of his words laced with dread and grief. "Ash arrows... they're poisoned. The wound can't be healed by magic alone." His eyes flickered to her, a look of hopelessness softening his face as he whispered, "They can only be healed by a mate's blood."

Elara's stomach twisted, an agonising chill spreading through her veins as his words sank in. She wasn't Azriel's mate. They shared a love that had carried them through countless trials, a love that felt true and endless—but in that moment, she realised it wasn't enough. She could do nothing but watch as he slipped closer to death.

"No..." Her voice broke, the fragile hope she'd held onto crumbling. She gripped Azriel's hand, desperate and helpless, her fingers shaking as the horrible truth settled in her heart. She loved him with every fibre of her being, but love wasn't enough—not here, not now.