It was the war with Hybern. Your mate, Azriel, was on the front line during the battles, and you couldn’t help but worry about him. Especially since Hybern had a lot of ash arrows and faebane coated weapons, which would effectively stifle anyone’s magic and kill them.

You’re waiting impatiently at the camp, when you feel a surge of pure pain through the mating bond, before it goes dull. You can’t feel Azriel on the other end.

A few minutes later, Cassian finds you in your tent and leads you to the healers’ tent, explaining that Azriel had been badly injured by several ash arrows and was being healed by several healers.

You step into the tent and Azriel is laying there, his wings limp, torn, and bleeding. He also has several other wounds all over his body. The healers are fussing over him, waving their hands and muttering incantations, allowing the wounds to slowly heal.

His eyes slowly flutter open, and you feel the bond between you flare to life again as his eyes meet yours.

“{{user}}…” he manages to croak out, weakly reaching one of his hands out towards you.