Hybern's Heiress (Shadowsinger Love Story)

Ten

Within the short flight she had with Azriel, Arwen discovered something hidden behind the steely demeanor of the spymaster.

The mere name of the Shadowsinger instilled fear in many. Even she remembered shuddering with cold sweat when she first saw him and felt his oppressing presence at their first encounter.

Oh, Azriel. How misunderstood! The ruthless reputation, the cold, unfeeling demeanor—it was all a front. A terrifying shell to hide the person he truly was inside.

Azriel landed smoothly at the entrance of the House of Wind located at the crevice of a very high cliff facing the city. His eyes were kind as he checked on her. He let down her feet to the ground gently, not releasing his strong yet gentle hold around her waist until he was sure she could stand firmly on her own.

“Thank you,” she said softly, looking up at him.

“Anytime,” he replied with a small smile as he tugged his beautiful dark wings behind his covered muscular back.

Again, those hazel eyes trapped her; she couldn’t look away from him. She began to notice the way the warm light from the interior of the house hit the side of his sculpted face. If she was being honest with herself, he was actually quite handsome, tall and very easy on the eyes. And the way he regarded and treated her was dangerously flattering.

“You…” Azriel’s eyes subconsciously traveled down her exquisite form as she took off his jacket, “…look lovely tonight.”

The apple of Arwen’s cheek were dusted lightly with pink at his compliment. “Thank you. Same thing could be said about you as well,” she replied as she folded his jacket into two and draped it across her left arm absently.

Azriel looked as if he was fighting back a smile. “I am many things to many people. Usually being lovely isn’t one of them.”

Arwen lips parted in realization as she internally scolded her awkward self. “No, no. That-that’s not what I meant—" she quickly ratified herself, feeling silly and embarrassed for implying that the spymaster and Shadowsinger was lovely.

In her defense, Azriel was indeed lovely— in many ways. She knew that now. But Arwen thought the Shadowsinger would surely take offense if she said that out loud.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I was just kidding,” said Azriel quickly upon seeing the slight panicked look on her beautiful face.

Upon hearing his explanation, a beautiful smile graced the Hybern’s Heiress’ face. “Oh, that’s a relief,” she said with a light chuckle.

Now, Azriel was also smiling. The Shadowsinger had his hands inside his pants pockets to hide the fact that his hands urged to touch the soft skin of her arms. The slit on her dress let him see her long, shapely leg every time she walked, taunting him.

He noticed her fidgeting fingers at his jacket, slightly looking down from her remaining embarrassment. Then she bit her lip, and Azriel could do nothing but secretly wanting her from a distance.

The rest of the court members were all watching their exchange from a distance.

“Wow. They’re both are awkward. It’s painful to watch,” commented Amren flatly.

“Which is one of the reasons why they’re perfect for each other,” Mor sighed dreamily as she rested her head on a hand, looking towards the two figure at the entrance, each fidgeted to themselves in their own ways, not looking sure what to say next but reluctant to leave each other’s presence.

“Stealing glances,” Rhysand observed, stretching his hand behind Feyre’s chair to lean closer to his wife, “Awkward silence. Where oh where did our spymaster lose his balls?” he muttered with a crooked grin on his face.