Gwyneth had always felt connected to her faith, a higher power presiding over her. That faith had shaken that devastating day those years ago, the day that went on to haunt her every nightmare for years to come. She's still trying to come back from it, to not only restore her faith in life and love, but her faith in herself. The sanctity of her spirit- she prayed for resolve. Every punch was a prayer. Every mile was a hymn. Until her knuckles bled and her knees gave. Azriel had been surrounded by darkness his whole life, a poison on his world, on his being. He exercised restraint in his every waking moment, banishing that darkness within himself. Some guessed of the strain it put on him, but no one knew the extent of it, how deep his scars ran. It was better this way, he was sure. He had always thought that if there were a higher power- which he wholly doubted- such deities must loathe him to have burdened him such darkness. He hadn't much faith in the gods anyway, much less faith that he could sway their opinion on him. But Gwyneth and Azriel did have one thing in common: the quiet fight within themselves. They only knew one way: to go about it alone, couldn't fathom letting another in. But there's a magic in finding someone who is your equal but opposite, something transforming. And frankly, Gwyneth and Azriel could both use a little magic. All characters owned by SJM in the ACOTAR series. Story takes place after the events of ACOSF. Aligns with the events in my other fic: A Storm of Flames and Deceit. I haven't finished Crescent City, so this story takes place outside of the events of those books as well. CONTENT WARNING ⚠️ Mentions of r*pe, use of profanity, explicit content, sexual content, violence, torture, mentions of suicidal thoughts and depression, mentions of self harm

"I thought we were friends, Azriel. I was caught off-guard but you have to know it was forgiven the day it happened." The priestess looked back up to him. His body vibrated from the determination that sparkled in her gaze like the moon reflected in the sea. "It was stupid, Azriel. And unfair to both Elain and myself. But everyone does stupid things." The Illyrian took a cautious step toward her, afraid she would bolt. "We are friends, Gwyn. I'm sorry. You're right, I was an idiot." "We both deserve better. But I know you'll be better." She shrugged. His breathing shallowed when she finally pushed away from the door frame and walked to him, stopping just out of his reach. "I miss you, Azriel." A story of Azriel and Gwyn as they begin to build their lives together, even as darkness - from around them and within - threatens to tear them down.Gwyneth

Spoilers for ACOSF, do not read this unless you have finished ACOSF AND the Azriel pov chapter * * * * * Training without Nesta and Cassian should have been fine, if it weren't for Gwyn, if it weren't for how he could never approach her. Some nights he needs an escape, but never expected her to hear his song in the shadows, for her to sing to the shadows herself. Set a few moths after the end of ACOSF Cover features art by @inkfae on instagram

Gwyn and Azriel's journey right after the events of ACOSF. Offered a position within the Inner circle, Gwyn is now assigned her first mission, with the infamous, shadow-singer. This is a story that will be written truly from my heart. Gwyn captured me in a way that is indescribable. Her story is worth telling and I will try to write it with full awareness. If you are a reader, and feel that I am not tackling her mental health in the proper manner, please feel free to send me a message. Follow me on tiktok: @loloauthor 107 k words Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/57cgAH56i92QCbZNFUe0Gi?si=PvegCjHdSMiTVF0uqVqTsQ

When she meets his eye, it's like those times when they glance at each other during training, when they're in perfect agreement for an extended, shining moment. Azriel extends his hand, his Siphon gleaming cobalt and his fingers bare even in this cold, the scars an intricate mark of whatever he himself has survived. "Welcome to the mission, Gwyn," he says, and Gwyn wants to savor it, the feeling of his hand wrapped around hers, his long fingers brushing her wrist. The approval she sees in those lovely eyes. She could swear she sees one of his shadows make its way up her arm. &&& While Azriel and Gwyn work to free Koschei's captives, attraction turns into something more.