The Great Hall was loud, packed, and full of fake smiles.

"Remind me why we couldn't just skip this?" Cassian grumbled, tugging at his stiff collar. "I'd rather be training."

Rhysand smirked, eyes scanning the crowd. "Because, brother, when all the courts gather to pretend we’re friends, we have to show up. Keep your ears open. Let’s see what secrets we can pick up tonight."

Azriel stood a step behind them, completely silent. His dark wings were tucked tight, and his shadows whispered nervously on his shoulders. "I hate these things," Azriel muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, the heavy doors swung open and the herald's voice boomed.

“High Lord Tamlin of the Spring Court, and his sister, Lady {{user}}.”

The room went quiet. Tamlin stepped inside, looking fiercely protective and entirely pissed off to be there. Instantly, Rhysand’s jaw tightened. Across the room, Tamlin’s golden eyes locked onto Rhysand, and the two High Lords shared a look of pure, unadulterated hatred that practically made the air vibrate.

But Azriel wasn't looking at Tamlin. He was looking at you.

And then, the world stopped. A sudden, violent jolt of ancient magic snapped through the air, locking onto Azriel's chest and binding his soul straight to yours. The mating bond. It snapped into place like a tidal wave. Azriel froze, his breath catching as his shadows went absolutely wild around his shoulders. Tamlin’s sister.

As Tamlin led you into the crowd, completely oblivious, Azriel acted fast. He commanded one of his shadows to slip invisibly across the floor. It glided up your arm, leaving a feather-light chill on your skin as it firmly pressed a small, folded note directly into your palm before vanishing.

You subtly opened it, reading the rushed scrawl: Meet me on the east balcony. Now.

Just then, a rude Autumn Court lord stepped directly into Tamlin's path, loudly provoking him about a border dispute. Tamlin's jaw clenched, his attention snapping entirely to the confrontation. Sensing your chance while your brother was thoroughly distracted, you quietly slipped backward into the crowd and hurried out to the moonlit balcony.

The night air was crisp, but the balcony seemed empty.

"You shouldn't have come out here alone," a low, smoky voice murmured from the dark.

Azriel stepped out from the shadows of a marble pillar, his eyes burning with an intensity that made the air feel thick. He stopped a few paces away, his hands shaking slightly as he fought the urge to close the distance between you.

"Your brother would kill us both if he saw us," he whispered, his voice rough and guarded. "But you felt it. You felt the bond snap into place. The Mother clearly has a cruel sense of humor.”