Hey everyone, this is the part where I think Azriel's POV is going to make a lot of people happy!Enjoy, and don't forget to like my posts if you do!
AZRİEL
As they reappeared in the River House, Rhysand and Feyre on either side of her, Azriel’s eyes couldn’t help but follow Sy's movements. He watched as she steadied herself after the winnowing, a small smile tugging at her lips, her breath catching from the sudden shift. The dress she wore now—a twilight blue that flowed like water—hugged her form in a way that made him pause. The fabric draped over her curves, accentuating the line of her waist before cascading softly to her ankles. It suited her, he thought reluctantly, bringing out the gentleness in her eyes.
He kept his expression neutral, though his shadows betrayed him, swirling more restlessly around his shoulders. He reminded himself that this girl, this strange newcomer, was still an enigma—one they couldn’t fully trust yet. And yet, he couldn’t deny the strange pull he felt toward her, an attraction that he couldn’t quite explain. The way she looked at Velaris with a mix of awe and disbelief, the hesitant smile that hinted at a deeper well of hope—it drew him in despite himself.
As they made their way to the dining room, the others were already gathered. Cassian lounged casually in his chair, arms crossed as he smirked at Azriel and the newcomer. Nesta sat beside him, her posture straight and unyielding, watching Sy with an appraising look, her expression carefully blank. Elain, ever gentle, offered Sy a warm smile, the kind that seemed to welcome anyone into her circle. Across from them, Amren perched like a small but deadly bird, her silver eyes gleaming with curiosity as she took in their arrival.
The conversation flowed easily around the table as everyone settled in, and Sy’s presence among them seemed to gradually become a part of the rhythm of their interactions. Despite her earlier uncertainty, she began to relax, her answers to their questions becoming more genuine, her laughter joining the mix of voices. But Azriel noticed how she seemed to study each of them when she thought no one was looking, as if trying to memorize every detail of this new life.
“Is it always like this?” she asked softly after a while, a hint of wonder in her voice as she watched Cassian animatedly recounting a story from training. “The way you all are with each other?”
Rhysand leaned back in his chair, considering her question. “It’s not always this peaceful,” he admitted with a faint smile. “But yes, we’ve been through enough together to know how to enjoy the quiet moments when they come. Trust is something we value—something we’ve fought hard to earn.”
She nodded slowly, looking down at her plate, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass. Azriel caught the way her shoulders tensed at the mention of trust, a shadow passing across her expression. He knew that look too well—knew what it was to carry the weight of isolation, even among others. It made him wonder what kind of life she had left behind when she’d made that desperate bargain, what losses she carried beneath her polite smiles.
His shadows stirred with his curiosity, brushing against her like a whisper, but he pulled them back, keeping his face impassive. He couldn’t afford to let his interest show—not when there were still so many unanswered questions. But he couldn’t help the way his gaze lingered on her when she wasn’t looking, drawn to the way the candlelight played across her face, softening the lines of her uncertainty.
Elain noticed his distraction, her gentle gaze catching his as she tilted her head in silent question, as if to ask what he was thinking. Azriel gave her a small, barely perceptible shake of his head, signaling that now wasn’t the time. She smiled softly, understanding, but he could see the flicker of amusement in her eyes, as if she had caught on to more than he had intended.
“Did you find anything that surprised you about Velaris?” Amren’s voice cut through the chatter, her tone sharp and direct as she fixed her silver gaze on Sy.
Sy blinked, as if startled by the question, but quickly recovered. “More than I can say,” she admitted with a small, hesitant smile. “It’s like seeing a dream come to life.”
Mor leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with interest. “Well, let’s hope it stays that way. There’s nothing quite like Velaris when you first see it.” Her smile was genuine, but there was an edge to her words that made it clear she wasn’t entirely ready to trust Sy yet.
Nesta’s gaze was cooler, her expression unreadable as she studied Sy’s face. “Dreams can change,” she said, her voice low, a hint of warning threading through the words. “And so can the people living in them.”
Cassian nudged her playfully with his elbow, breaking the tension with a wink in Sy’s direction. “Don’t mind her—Nesta just likes to make sure everyone knows she’s keeping an eye on things.”
Sy managed a small laugh, but Azriel could see the uncertainty lingering in her eyes, the way she still seemed unsure of her place among them. And yet, there was a strength in the way she held herself, a quiet determination that made him think she wouldn’t back down easily, even in the face of so much doubt.
Rhysand, ever attuned to the undercurrents of a conversation, finally spoke up, his voice carrying a note of amusement. “I think our guest’s appetite is louder than her words, judging by the way her stomach keeps growling. Perhaps we should let her enjoy her meal before Cassian scares her off with another story.”
Sy’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she shot Rhysand a grateful, if embarrassed, look. “I wouldn’t say no to that.”
Azriel’s lips twitched into a faint smirk at her response, and when she glanced at him, he made sure to keep his expression neutral. But he couldn’t help the thought that crossed his mind—how she had slipped into their lives so unexpectedly, how she seemed to tug at something within him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He knew better than to let it show, but as he watched her across the table, he couldn’t deny that her presence intrigued him more than he cared to admit.
As the meal continued, and the conversation turned to lighter topics, he let himself watch her just a little longer, wondering what secrets she still held—and what it might mean for them all in the days to come.
SY
Dinner continued in near silence, the only sounds being the soft clinking of silverware against plates and the occasional babbling of little Nyx, who sat in his high chair, making contented noises as he played with a piece of bread. My hunger, which had been gnawing at me all day, seemed almost unnatural now, considering I’d grown so used to going without food back in my world. I was surprised by how ravenous I’d become, and as I finished the last bite on my plate, I sank back into my chair, feeling the uncomfortable fullness settle in my stomach. A part of me worried that my new clothes, snug as they were, might start to feel tighter after such a hearty meal.
Rhysand’s voice broke the quiet, drawing my attention back to the table. “Sy, earlier Feyre asked if you had any powers in your world. You said you didn’t, but what about here?” His violet eyes studied me intently, a shadow of concern crossing his expression.
I blinked, caught off guard by the question. I hadn’t thought about it—hadn’t even considered the possibility. It was obvious that I wasn’t a High Fae, but I knew that some humans in this world had been granted powers under unique circumstances. My brows furrowed as I shook my head slowly. “I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice uncertain. “If I do have any abilities, I have no idea what they might be... or if I’d even know how to use them.”
My words seemed to stir something in Rhysand, his thoughtful expression deepening as he turned over the implications. Around the table, the others exchanged glances, their expressions varying from curiosity to concern. It was clear that none of them had considered this possibility before—not until now. The thought of me possessing some unknown power must have made them uneasy, especially considering that I hadn’t been brought here by the Cauldron, but by something much older, something ancient.
Rhysand’s gaze shifted to Amren and Nesta, a decision forming in his eyes. “Tomorrow, I want you both to work with Sy to see if there’s any way to determine whether she has latent abilities,” he instructed, his tone firm but calm. “If she does have any talents, it’s better for her to know—”
“—and better for us to know,” Nesta cut in, her voice sharp with a hint of disdain. Her words carried an edge that made her feelings clear—she wasn’t thrilled about my presence here, and she wanted to make sure I knew it. The hostility in her eyes was like a slap, but I kept my expression neutral, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing how it affected me.
I offered a silent nod of agreement to Rhysand’s request, even though unease prickled at the edges of my mind. It wasn’t as if I had a choice—if there was a chance I had powers, it was better to understand them than to stumble blindly through whatever challenges this world might throw at me.
Rhysand then turned his attention to Azriel, who had been quiet throughout most of the meal, his shadows a restless presence around him. “And Azriel, I’ll need your help to teach Sy how to defend herself,” Rhysand added, his voice carrying a note of authority that brooked no argument.
For a brief moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossed Azriel’s face, so fleeting I might have missed it if I hadn’t been watching him so closely. He ran a hand through his raven-black hair, adjusting his posture before responding. “Wouldn’t Cassian be better suited for that task?” he asked, his tone measured, though I sensed a hint of reluctance beneath it.
“No,” Nesta interjected, her voice firm as she leaned forward, fixing Azriel with a fierce glare. Her hand landed on Cassian’s leg under the table, her fingers digging into his thigh as if to underscore her point. “He’s not the right person for this.”
Cassian winced at the pressure of her grip, letting out a hiss through gritted teeth. “Nesta,” he muttered, clearly pained by her display of possessiveness. But her gaze remained locked on Azriel, her expression daring him to argue further.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, avoiding the tension crackling between them. Studying the intricate patterns carved into the wooden table suddenly seemed like a safer option than meeting anyone’s eyes.
Rhysand’s gaze lingered on Nesta for a moment, as if weighing her unspoken reasoning, before he gave a slight nod. “Very well. Sy, you’ll train with Azriel after lunch each day. Mornings will be spent working with Nesta and Amren on discovering if you have any abilities.”
Nesta’s expression tightened, but she didn’t object. Perhaps she understood that pushing back would only lead to Cassian being assigned to work with me instead, and she seemed determined to avoid that outcome.
I hesitated, glancing around the table before voicing the question that had been gnawing at me since this discussion began. “And what if... what if I decide I want to leave?” I asked softly, barely more than a whisper.
Rhysand set down his wine glass, his brow furrowing as he considered my words. “If you truly wish to leave, Sy, you are free to go,” he replied, his tone even but tinged with a hint of warning. “But sending you out into Prythian as you are now, untrained and defenseless, would be no better than sending you to your death. And we don’t know what consequences your departure could bring—either for you or for us.”
He leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on the table, his expression serious. “So, for your sake and ours, I think it’s wise for you to stay as our guest for now. Learn the basics—learn how to protect yourself. Then, if you still want to leave, at least you’ll be able to survive beyond our borders.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words settle on my shoulders. It was a logical argument—one I couldn’t easily dismiss. And yet, there was a part of me that bristled at the thought of being tied down, even temporarily. But looking around the table, at the faces of those who were reluctantly offering me a chance, I knew that staying was the smarter choice.
With a quiet sigh, I nodded, acknowledging the decision that had already been made. And as Rhysand turned back to his own meal, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my time in this world was only beginning—and that the path ahead would be far more treacherous than I had anticipated.
