Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat.
"I….." He watched her swallow. She clutched a small gift in her hands. "I was coming to leave this on your pile of presents. I forgot to give it to you earlier." Lie. Well, the second part was a lie. He didn't need his shadows to read her tone, the slight tightening of her face. She'd waited until everyone was asleep before venturing back down, where she'd leave her gift amongst his other, opened presents, subtle and unnoticed. Elain closed the distance, and her breathing quickened as she again paused, now a scant foot away. She extended the wrapped gift, her hand shaking. "Here." Az tried not to look at his scarred fingers as they took the gift. She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year—a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he’d done every night he slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.
Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said “You might find these useful at the House these days”, and then opened the lid.
Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, “You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you…”
He chuckled, unable to contain the impulse. “No wonder you didn’t want me to open it in front of everyone.”
Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Nesta wouldn’t appreciate the joke.”
He offered her a smile back. “I wasn’t sure if I should give you your present.” He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn’t stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much.
Elain’s large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days. But tonight, here in the dark and quiet, with no one to see… He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him.
Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They’d always been prone to vanish when she was around.
The golden necklace seemed ordinary-its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, “Put it on me?”
His head went quiet. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long, creamy neck.
He knew it was wrong, but there he was, sliding the necklace around her. Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered, and he took a damn long time fastening the clasp.
Elain bit her lower lip, and it took every ounce of Azriel's restraint to keep from putting his own teeth there. “I should go," Elain said, but made no move to leave. "Yes," he said, his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat.
Her arousal lifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He’d beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. But Azriel just stroked her neck again.
Elain shuddered, drifting closer. So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest. She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars. Such terrible things that it was a sacrilege for his fingers to touch her skin, tainting her with his presence. But he could have this. This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it. "Yes," Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. Azrie's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut.
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