Summary: In the heart of Velaris, a woman with no past builds a quiet life, hiding extraordinary abilities beneath the guise of an ordinary teacher. But when fate pulls her into the path of a shadow-drenched warrior, the lines between the life she’s created and the mysteries of who she truly is begin to blur. A night of reckless passion turns into an unexpected entanglement, forcing her to confront not only the secrets buried within herself but the undeniable pull toward a male who sees more than she’s willing to reveal. As tension simmers and desire collides with destiny, one question remains—can she outrun the past that threatens to catch up with her, or will it unravel everything she’s fought so hard to build?
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content warnings: angst, attack, talk of murder, feelings of hopelessness, worthlessness, despair
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Azriel stood there, frozen, his breath sharp and uneven as the air in the alley settled around him.
And he had let it happen.
His hands curled into fists, his knuckles aching from how hard he clenched them. His wings tensed at his back, his entire body coiled in agony.
An agony that was worse than any physical wound he'd ever endured.
His shadows swirled restlessly, whispering, urging him to move, to go after you.
Because all he could see, all he could hear…
"Our little Y/N is an assassin."
"She gets paid to kill people—whether they deserve to die or not."
"With her powers, she is the perfect assassin."
And the image, the fucking image, of you shifting, of you taking on the face of the woman his spies had warned him about, the woman who had been coming for Rhysand…
The woman he had just made love to.
The woman who had wrapped herself in his sheets.
Who had whispered his name like it meant something.
Who had looked into his eyes and told him she loved him.
Azriel let out a slow, shaky breath, his heart pounding violently in his chest.
Had your amnesia, your tears, your desperation, your fear…
Had it all been part of a grander plan?
A scheme to infiltrate the Inner Circle, to worm your way into his arms, into his heart just so you could get close enough to kill Rhysand?
Azriel's stomach twisted, a sharp, ugly feeling coiling around his ribs.
And now the bond had snapped into place.
A shattered, broken sound left his lips, his breath stuttering painfully as he raked a hand through his hair.
"Everything about you is a lie."
Or maybe you truly hadn't known.
Maybe your memories really had been taken from you.
Maybe the girl who had curled into his chest at night, who had let her shadows twine with his, who had cried from nightmares she couldn't understand…
Maybe that had been real.
And yet, he had let you go.
Let some stranger winnow you away.
Without lifting a finger to stop it.
Because the truth was, he had been too stunned, too angry, too betrayed to react.
But the bond in his chest screamed.
To tear through whoever had taken you and drag you back into his arms, whether to punish you or protect you, he didn’t even fucking know anymore.
But then his own thoughts turned.
Because how different was he?
How different were you from him?
He had taken lives without question.
He had slit throats, tortured, winnowed in and out of places unseen, leaving bodies in his wake.
He had done terrible things in the name of protecting his family, his court.
And he had never once stopped to ask if he was any better than the people he killed.
So why did he feel so betrayed by what you had been?
What was it that made you a monster when he had done the same?
Because it was you and it hurt.
Because it was you and it wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Because you were his mate.
A ragged breath tore from his lungs, his wings drooping heavily at his back.
Azriel barely remembered the flight back to the House of Wind.
His mind was a raging storm, a vicious, untamed thing that threatened to consume him whole. His shadows were restless, curling and twisting around him like they were trying to hold him together, to keep him from falling apart.
But he was already shattered.
By the time his boots hit the stone floor of the House of Wind, his body was taut, coiled with tension, every muscle strung so tight he thought he might snap in half.
He barely registered the hallways, the doors, the lanterns flickering in the dim light of nightfall. He barely noticed anything at all except for the pounding ache in his chest, the bond screaming through him, demanding he go after you.
But how could he, when he didn’t even know what was real anymore?
His feet carried him straight to the study.
He found Rhysand and Cassian inside, their heads turning immediately as he entered.
Cassian was lounging in one of the armchairs, a glass of whiskey in his hand, casual—until he saw Azriel’s face. Then he straightened, eyes narrowing.
Rhysand was behind his desk, sharp, calculating violet eyes locking onto him immediately.
"Az," Rhys murmured, his voice calm but laced with concern. "Are you alright?"
He barely heard his brother add, "Feyre told me about Y/N. She said she wasn’t feeling well today, that something felt off. So you went to check on her, I assume?"
His voice came out low, rough, strained, like the words were being ripped from his chest.
Cassian frowned, setting his drink down.
Azriel’s wings twitched, his siphons glowed faintly, and then—
Everything that had happened in that alleyway.
"She was talking to a male." His voice was tight, clipped. "A male who knew her. Who called her ‘Little Killer.’"
Rhysand and Cassian both stilled.
"And then he threw a knife at her."
Cassian’s eyes widened, and Rhys’s entire body locked up.
"She caught it," Azriel continued, "by the blade. It sliced into her palm. She didn’t even flinch."
Rhysand’s expression darkened.
"Who was he?" he demanded.
Azriel exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair.
"At first, I thought he was her betrothed." His voice was grim, as if saying the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Because of the note she had when she woke up in that alley. The one congratulating her on her engagement."
Rhys’s eyes narrowed. "And was he?"
Azriel let out a low, bitter laugh.
"The note wasn’t about marriage. It was about a job."
Cassian cursed under his breath.
"The engagement wasn’t a proposal," Azriel said quietly. "It was an acknowledgment that she was locked on target. Ready to make a kill."
A heavy silence filled the room.
Cassian’s face hardened, and Rhysand—Rhysand barely moved.
"And who," Rhysand finally said, his voice a deadly, quiet thing, "was she in Velaris to kill?"
Azriel met his brother’s eyes.
Rhysand’s entire body went still.
Cassian sat back hard, staring at Azriel like he hadn’t heard him right.
Azriel’s throat worked, but he forced himself to keep going.
"According to the male, her powers are stronger than yours. She can mist people. She can go into minds and make people kill themselves. She can command her shadows to help her."
His voice dropped into something grim, something haunted.
Cassian finally muttered, "Shit."
"And she can shift," he added, his voice a thread away from breaking. "Not into creatures. Into people. She can change her face at will. Kill and leave without a trace."
That was when Rhysand finally spoke.
"You said she was locked onto me."
Azriel nodded once, sharply.
"My spies warned me," he admitted, his stomach twisting at the memory. "They told me she was coming for you. But they never found her. They only knew she existed. That she was dangerous. And when she shifted in front of me, I knew her face. The face she was wearing throughout Velaris while coming for you."
Rhys exhaled slowly, his eyes dark.
"But she didn’t do it," Cassian said. "Why didn’t she go through with it?"
Azriel’s throat worked, his jaw clenching.
Rhysand and Cassian both stared at him.
Azriel’s heart pounded painfully.
"Because of Nyx," he said, his voice raw. "She refused to leave a child without a father."
A flicker of something unreadable passed over Rhysand’s face.
Cassian sucked in a sharp breath, and Rhysand stiffened.
"Right there," Azriel said, his voice trembling. "As I was learning all of this about her. The bond snapped into place."
"And what did she do?" Cassian asked, his voice careful.
Azriel let out a slow, shaking breath.
"She begged me to listen."
"She told me she didn’t know about her past. That she would have told me if she had known. That she was just as lost as I was."
The words cracked in the air between them.
Cassian and Rhysand exchanged a glance.
*"I felt so—" Azriel broke off, shaking his head, his breath uneven. "I felt so betrayed. I told her to save it. I asked her how she could do this to me."
"I told her everything about her was a lie."
Rhys’s violet eyes darkened with something like understanding.
Cassian rubbed his hands over his face.
"And then the male winnowed her away." His voice shook, thick with something awful.
Cassian cursed under his breath again.
Rhysand stared at him, hard and assessing.
"Az," Rhys finally murmured. "Do you think she was telling the truth?"
Azriel exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
"I don’t know," he admitted, his voice a rough whisper. "I don’t fucking know, Rhys."
The stench of rot and decay filled your lungs as you were dragged through the underground tunnels of Hewn City.
The seediest, most depraved part of the court.
The place where people vanished, where the screams never reached the surface, where even the wicked feared to tread too long.
You didn’t struggle as the guards, your boss’s dogs, hauled you into the darkness.
Didn’t fight when they held you firmly against the damp stone wall and shoved a syringe into your neck, injecting you with Faebane, the liquid fire burning through your veins as your magic was immediately ripped away from you.
Your ability to mist - gone.
Your ability to shift, to winnow, to enter minds - all stolen from you.
You were thrown into a small, damp cell, the heavy iron bars clanking shut behind you.
The floor was cold, the scent of blood, old and new, lingering in the air.
The stench of vomit and urine reeking in the corners.
You sat there in the dark, your breathing slow, steady, resigned.
Because if this was how it ended…
Maybe this was always going to happen.
Maybe this was always where you were meant to end up.
For every life you’d taken.
Gods, how many had there been?
Only one death lived in your mind.
The dagger in his throat.
The weight of his body as you shoved him into the ocean, watching as the water swallowed him whole.
A life you had taken with such ease.
And that was all you could remember.
You leaned your head back against the wall, staring at the dark ceiling above you, wondering if, before they killed you, they might tell you the truth.
Just so you could die knowing.
But it didn’t really matter, did it?
You weren’t that person anymore.
At least you didn’t want to be.
And yet, you had hurt Azriel.
A sharp, piercing pain cut through your chest at the thought of him.
At the way he had looked at you before you were winnowed away.
Like you were a stranger.
"Everything about you is a lie."
You squeezed your eyes shut, a ragged breath shuddering out of you.
You shouldn’t have let yourself get close.
You should have kept him at a distance, kept your walls up, just like you always did.
Because now, you had shattered him.
You had ruined the one good thing in your life.
You had hoped for the bond with him since the moment you’d met him.
Since that night at Rita’s, when his shadows had curled toward you, when something in you had felt so drawn to him, to his presence, to his voice, to his eyes.
It felt like fate had put him in your path.
But now you were sure he was trying to find a way out of it.
Trying to find a way to break the bond.
And how could you blame him?
Who would want to be mated to a monster?
To someone who did not even know herself?
A small, bitter laugh left your lips.
Maybe he had never really meant it.
Maybe when he had promised to fight for you, when he had told you nothing about your past would matter, when he had said he wouldn’t change his mind…
Maybe those were just words.
Because in the end, he had done what everyone else had done.
And you couldn’t even blame him for it.
You curled in on yourself, pressing your forehead against your knees, your body shaking with the weight of it all.
The weight of who you were.
And of who you would never get the chance to be.
Because you knew, deep down…
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