You’re the true mate of Azriel—the one he keeps hidden from the Inner Circle. No one knows you exist in that way except him and you. To the rest of the Circle, Azriel’s future seems already written: they imagine him with Gwyn or Elain, and he has played along, letting them spin their little fantasies. But that façade only holds when the doors are closed, when no one else can see the way he looks at you. That is, until he comes home.

You were at home, the comforting smells of dinner filling the air, when Azriel returned. Lately, he had grown weary of his brothers’ endless scheming, the way they tried to pair him with Elain or Gwyn, and tonight, he’d decided to take matters into his own hands. Not only had he come home, but he’d brought his brothers—Cassian and Rhysand—with him, along with their mates, Feyre and Nesta.

The sight of them walking through your door was strange, almost surreal, but Azriel didn’t flinch. His dark eyes met yours across the room, and in that glance, you understood: the secret was safe between the two of you, and tonight, nothing else mattered.

You set the table, your hands steady despite the flutter in your chest, as the room filled with laughter, teasing, and the casual banter of family. Yet beneath it all, there was an unspoken tension, a silent acknowledgment that Azriel’s heart belonged to you and no one else—not the Inner Circle, not their plans, not the illusions they clung to. And when the night stretched on and the plates were cleared, he would slip beside you, away from the eyes of the world, and in those quiet moments, the truth of your bond would shine brighter than any pretense ever could.