Naughty Little Shadows | 6
Pairing: azriel x fem reader
Warnings: mainly fluff, trust issues, a bit of angst at the end.
Summary: You and Azriel begin to navigate the new complexities of your mating bond, but you quickly realise how dangerous this could become. Is being mated to the Shadowsinger worth your safety or his?
You awoke the next morning feeling the most rested you had in a while. No sleepy desires lulling you from your dreams to paint. No urgent need to channel your magic that usually got your fingers itching to draw. It was because he had stayed with you last night.
Why would you need to paint from desire, when your desires had shared your sheets.
Your fingers outstretched on the soft fabric beside you, a subtle warmth of the material lingered, your mates scent still enveloped in your bed. Notes of mist and cedar. Before you could start to question where he was, you heard the soft sounds of movement emanating from your kitchen. You could hear the familiar clinking of mugs and the opening and closing of cupboards, indicating that Azriel was up and about, likely preparing tea.
Wrapping the duvet around yourself, you sat up in bed, your gaze drifting across the room to where he had been last night, sat in the armchair. For a moment you could still see his dark looming presence in the corner of your room, a side to your mate you had only heard whispers of till then. The Spymaster of the Night Court was truly terrifying, and if you hadn’t believed it before you definitely did now. However you hadn’t once felt unsafe with him, perhaps intimidated by his shadowy demeanour but despite it all you weren’t afraid of him.
Maybe afraid that he thought poorly of you, but never of him.
A second later a flicker of annoyance crossed your mind as you remembered that he had broken into your apartment. That, was a breach. He needed to respect your boundaries, however with the whole misunderstanding of last night you knew addressing that subject could wait.
Your mind quickly moved to the events of last night– the raw honesty of your confession, the way he had listened without judgement, and accepted it as truth almost instantly.
And then, there was that kiss.
You couldn't help but bury your face in the duvet, a blush creeping over your cheeks at the thought. His scent on the covers only heating them more.
That kiss had been electrifying, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a fire within you.
Yet, you were grateful that he had stopped it. As much as you had wanted it to continue, there were still unresolved issues between you, discussions that needed to be had. Perhaps more secrets to be shared too. You hadn’t even formally accepted the bond, something you both still hadn’t discussed.
But things were definitely progressing.
Reentering your bedroom, Azriel walked through the doorframe wings tucked in tight as he paused for a moment. He held two mugs of tea. His shirt was back on now, and you couldn’t ignore the slight feeling of disappointment in that. Azriel smirked slightly, and you wondered if he had felt that disappointment down the bond.
"Morning," he greeted you with a soft purr, his eyes warm and tender as they met yours.
You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, his rugged features softened by the morning light.
Despite the remnants of tears staining your cheeks and the exhaustion etched into your features, Azriel looked at you as though you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. How he had gotten so lucky he didn’t know.
Azriel perched on the edge beside you, offering you one of the mugs of tea. The warmth of the beverage spread through your hands, you clasped the mug bringing it to your lips chasing away any remnants left of sleep.
Azriel watched you move the pink ceramic cup to your lips. He kept an unreadable expression on his face. But beneath the surface, a storm of emotions churned within him. The memory of your lips against his lingered, igniting a primal hunger that threatened to consume him. He fought to keep it in check, to maintain the facade of composure that was expected of him.
How would he fare if this was only the beginning? If the intensity of his feelings for you continued to grow, if you one day accepted the bond and he was to succumb to the frenzy. He feared he would be lost in the tempest, he could barely resist you now.
Your eyes watched his shadows lazily move around him, as if they too had just awoken from slumber. However you doubted that to be the case. A small tendril was grazing down his forearm onto his hand and you knew instantly it was your shadow. You watched as it peppered his tan skin with kisses, and you silently cursed it.
It truly had been created out of pure admiration, you had forgotten to will obedience and secrecy that seemed to come with his actual shadows. This shadow– your shadow, seemed to worship him. Its only purpose in life to be close to him.
You were its true master though. A reminder not just to your own creation, but to yourself. Ultimately you had control.
“You truly thought this little baby was going to bring the night court down to it’s knees?” You quipped a brow, pulling the little shadow into your own hand, your fingers gently grazing his forearm to do so. Despite it originally being made subconsciously, and completely ignoring your call for it to return like its companions you could feel that thread in your mind now and you knew if you really wanted to you could command it.
That practice you had sneaked in during the travelling market had paid off.
Azriel watched you interact with the shadow, his hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. Despite how serious the situation could have become, he was grateful for your lightness breaking the ice.
It swirled round your cheek and to your face, as if it understood you were giving it leniency. That your leash on it wasn’t as tight as it could be. It curled around your ear and began to whisper, you thought it was going to thank you. Instead–
He’s so handsome, so handsome, so handsome.
Pretty Azriel, pretty, pretty, so pretty.
There was a pang of annoyance. Wasn't it supposed to reveal secrets, to offer insight into hidden truths? Instead, it seemed fixated on showering Azriel with compliments.
“I should have known really after the hundredth time it told me how beautiful I was that there really was no malicious intent” he remarked, his tone light as his hazel eyes looked playfully across your features. Reeling in the annoyance that had fallen across your expression.
Great. So you had created a shadow that was seemingly just as infatuated with him as you were.
You sighed, brushing the shadow away with a flick of your wrist. It obediently returned to Azriel's side, merging seamlessly with his other shadows. "You can keep it," you said with a wry smile. "Consider it a little pick-me-up for those days when you might be feeling low," you quipped with a sardonic grin, your tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Because we all know how much the mighty Spymaster of the Night Court needs a boost to his ego," you added, raising an eyebrow playfully.
Azriel’s grin grew and he threw his head back slightly as a laugh bellowed out. It was melodic, and stirred something warm inside you. It was a sound you could listen to for eternity. For a fleeting moment, you wished you could capture that feeling in one of your living paints. It would be warm and gold like his tone, a star burning bright in the night sky.
“Everyone needs a confidence boost now and then” he conceded, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
He didn’t. You thought. He was the most beautiful male you had ever witnessed, but you couldn't help but notice a flicker of something that looked like doubt in his eyes. It surprised you. Here was the most captivating male you had ever laid eyes on, scars and all. You made a mental note to show him just how breathtaking he truly was.
"But thank you, I will take great care of your shadow," Azriel assured you, his tone appreciative.
"Maybe train it to do what it’s supposed to while you're at it," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes as you chuckled together.
You swore you saw the lone shadow emerge from the smokiness hanging around Azriel, as if it was about to object. But it was quickly dragged back in by Azriel’s shadows, who seemed to reprimand it.
“Speaking of training…” Azriel's smile softened, his tone growing more serious. “I’ve been thinking about what you’ve told me, about your ability—your beautiful ability.”
You held your breath, bracing yourself for his suggestion.
“No,” you interjected sharply, panic bubbling up inside you. You had already confided in Azriel, and that was already one person too many.
“No one can know,” you insisted, your voice trembling slightly.
“Rhysand would never hurt you, never force you to do anything—”
But you were already shaking your head vehemently.
“I just think he would be able to help you,” Azriel persisted, though he stopped as he noticed the panic in your expression. He sighed, his face softening. “I won’t tell him, I promise, but I think you should consider it. Even just having him help you with the basics, so you can protect yourself or even just create in peace knowing you have full control.”
The offer was tempting. The idea of gaining control after your shadow mishap lingered in your mind like a persistent whisper. You knew you needed full mastery of your ability, especially to prevent any sinister incidents. Your thoughts drifted to the beast you had created as a child, born out of anger. Though perhaps you hadn't fully comprehended the weight of your actions then, you had exercised control. It was only when your father intervened and destroyed the darkness that the threat dispersed. And he only had to do that as you weren’t going to step down. You had wanted to hurt that girl, and you had every intention to do so. You had control.
And if you had control once, you would find it again. But on your own.
Azriel had to leave for his Night Court duties, promising to see you soon although it was left open to when that could be. You felt a mix of relief and trepidation. His understanding and patience were comforting, but the weight of your secret still pressed heavily on your mind. Rhysand, despite being your High Lord and Azriel's family, was someone you still didn't fully trust, at least not with something as significant as your ability.
Your father had always persisted that they couldn’t know— the courts. That included the one you were born into. Despite his warnings, you couldn't shake the worry about how much Azriel could withhold from his High Lord and Lady. You were certain there were records of every resident in Velaris, detailing their identities and abilities. However, any indication of yours and your fathers power most likely had never been shared. But if you were proven to be dangerous, could this change? Maybe telling Azriel about the beast you created would prove to be a mistake.
Eventually, you headed to work yourself, strolling through the vibrant artists quarter to your shift. You weren’t a particularly good liar, Azriel had learnt from last night you would make a terrible spy. And lying to Adon was something you had never been able to pull off, so you confided in him about your confession to Azriel. Although he was worried, he also understood something like this would be inevitable after your outburst at the dinner.
As you discussed your concerns with Adon, he raised points you hadn't even considered. Not only might you be drawn into court politics because of your ability, pawned in wars or scare tactics between allies and enemies. But being the Spymaster's mate also painted a target on your back.
You mulled over his words, realising you hadn’t even considered that aspect of your situation. Until last night, you hadn’t truly seen the darker side of this life, and hadn't been exposed to its dangers. It was a frightening realisation that someone might try to harm you simply to get at Azriel. You had been naive, but of course, in this world, where power and politics intertwined, such threats were all too real. Azriel likely had a long list of enemies, much like the rest of the inner circle. And now, as his mate, his seemingly meek and unpredictable mate, you could potentially be seen as his weakness.
You couldn’t let that be the reality.
Another reality you couldn’t allow was one where you had no relation with his family. Unresolved issues lingered from your particularly rocky introduction to the inner circle. You knew you needed to mend those relationships quickly, as the longer you waited, the harder it felt to reconnect.
With some free time in your workshop, you decided to channel your power. But this time, without your usual crutches of paintings or drawings. Adon's warning about the risks of being Azriel's mate echoed in your mind, driving you to push harder to control your ability.
You sat at your workshop table, clearing the surface. No paintings, no drawings, not so much of a scribble this time. You looked within yourself, to where your ability simmered and you pulled. An image formed in your mind, a dragonfly. Perhaps not as clear as your painting but it was there. Fluttering in your mind with grey wings and silver flecks.
Yet, it would not materialise in front of you.
You continued to push, willing and pulling on that thread in your mind that seemed to refuse to connect to the butterfly. Your head was beginning to throb now. A dull ache pinching at you.
Sweat beaded on your temple as you focused, trying to materialise the butterfly. But despite your efforts, it refused to manifest in front of you.
The bell of the shop rang, pulling you from your trance before Adon had called you to come out front.
Frustration and disappointment welled up within you as you realised your failure. Brushing aside your emotions, you crafted the perfect polite smile on your face ready to face your customer.
However, your resolve faltered when you saw the customer waiting for you—Feyre.
"Think you could avoid me forever?" Feyre teased, her voice light but carrying a hint of genuine concern.
Swallowing hard, you scanned Feyre's face for any sign of recognition, but quickly pushed the thought aside– Azriel had assured you he wouldn't reveal your secret; you had to trust him.
"Feyre," you greeted with a soft smile, stepping forward as she pulled you into a quick embrace.
"You worried me," Feyre admitted, her concern evident. You knew she was referring to your outburst at dinner last week, your sudden departure. "I saw Azriel this morning, he seemed better so I assumed you guys had sorted things”
“I'm sorry if we did anything wrong" She spoke again.
"Oh, gods no, Feyre. You did absolutely nothing wrong…I just got nervous" you assured her, though it was a lie agreed upon by you and Azriel. It would have to suffice to protect your secret.
Feyre nodded intently, and though you couldn't tell if she believed you, she didn't press further. "My family can be... intimidating, overwhelming," she admitted, offering you an out. You were grateful for the narrative Feyre was building. "But we're Azriel's family, and you're his mate, so it would be nice if we could try again."
Her invitation hung in the air, laden with a subtle tension. You realised then how much your outburst had hurt Azriel, how it had left him confused and unable to rectify the situation. His family had to witness his suffering and pick up the pieces, all because of your actions.
Bridges would need to be mended.
"I'm having a casual brunch thing at the weekend. It'll be me, Rhys, Nesta, and Amren. So not the full gang. I'd like you and Azriel to join us" Feyre invited, extending an olive branch.
You couldn’t decline the offer. Even if a part of you still wanted to avoid them all completely.
You wondered if there was a reason they wouldn’t all be there this time. Worried that perhaps you had rubbed Mor and Cassian the wrong way, or that they couldn’t stand to be in your company anymore. As much as you and Feyre had been friendly acquaintances before, you couldn’t ignore the undeniable loyalty that remained with Azriel. Remained with the entire inner circle.
You had made a bad first impression, a terrible one. And you had to fix it.
With a quick nod, you managed to compose yourself enough to respond. “I would love to, if you’ll have me,” you replied.
Feyre's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “It’s a date.”
As the days slipped away, the impending ‘casual brunch’ loomed closer. Casting a shadow of worry over your thoughts. This whole thing felt like déjà vu of your first encounter with his family, and you couldn’t ignore the nervousness bubbling within you. Throughout the week, you had thrown yourself into your work, dedicating your spare moments to honing your abilities. While you were yet to create anything solely from your mind's vision, you had found control in the familiarity of paint and pencil.
Azriel had been a constant source of support, visiting you late into the night after finishing work. Gone were the days of uninvited entrances; now, he would knock and wait for your invitation before slipping into your apartment. His requests for small creations, usually insect-like, had become a cherished routine. You would paint with meticulous detail, crafting butterflies and ladybugs that seemed to dance on the page before fluttering into your waiting hands—or sometimes his.
One night, he had held a stunning moth in his scarred hands, its delicate wings casting ethereal shadows in the dim light. You couldn't help but laugh as it flew and landed on his nose, eliciting a playful look from your mate. With a flick of your wrist it was dispersed just before Azriel could press his own lips onto your nose.
Things had been going well, remarkably well. And today, you were determined not to let any mishaps tarnish the progress you had made. Standing outside River House with Azriel, his hand warm against the small of your back you reminded yourself you had control.
There would be no naughty shadows– that you were sure of.
"Are you ready?" Azriel's voice broke through your thoughts, his gaze soft yet tinged with a hint of worry. He knew how nervous you were.
Were you ready? You had to be, there wasn't any room to be uncertain.
You began to nod, a small smile gracing your lips, but before you could utter a word, the front door swung open, revealing a blur of pink swarm past you in your peripheral.
“Azriel!” A female voice gleamed as you turned to see a young woman.
A woman whose arms were now wrapped around your mates neck in an embrace.
But it wasn't the embrace itself that caused a knot to form in your stomach; it was the way she was looking a him.
Because you looked at him the exact same way.
Next Part >> hopefully Thursday
