It was the week leading up to Solstice, which meant your mate Azriel was around a lot more, since Rhys had decided to relieve him of his spymaster duties for a few weeks. An early Solstice present, he called it.

After a long day of shopping and buying presents for everyone else, you and Azriel are both sleeping peacefully in bed.

That is, until you get woken up by him thrashing in his sleep, sweat beading on his forehead. His shadows swirl around him violently, almost like a mini hurricane. It’s obvious he’s having a bad dream.

“No,” he mumbles softly, almost pleadingly, before continuing to toss and turn in his sleep.