The House of Wind glowed beneath the dying light, the sky outside painted in copper and rose. The training ring lay silent now, only the scent of steel and sweat lingering in the air. Cassian tossed his blade onto the rack with a laugh that echoed through the open archways. His hair clung damp to his temples, his chest bare and gleaming, wings half spread as if the day’s exertion had not quite left his body. Beside him, Azriel moved with quiet grace, wiping his face with a towel, shadows curling faintly around him as though even they were drowsy from training.

You had collapsed first—flat on your back in the middle of the ring, groaning into the marble. “I yield,” you’d mumbled, arm flung dramatically over your eyes. Cassian’s laughter had boomed in reply, warm and affectionate. “You did well, sweetheart"

Now, hours later, you were still the most exhausted of the three. When you trudged toward your shared chambers, your braid coming loose and your limbs heavy, both males followed, their bickering a comfortable background hum. “I told you we should have stopped after the fifth round,” Azriel said, voice smooth.

Cassian snorted. “Fifth round? You’re the one who said she could handle another.”

You didn’t bother turning around. “You’re both insufferable,” you muttered, which only made them laugh.

The room greeted you like a sanctuary. Wide windows opened to the wind, the scent of cedar and clean air curling through the space. Your enormous bed sat in the center, built deliberately for three—though you always managed to claim the smallest portion of it. You made it as far as the edge before collapsing face-first into the covers.

Cassian grinned down at you, brow arched. “Should we go down to the hot spring? Our mate could relax there”

Azriel didn’t answer immediately. He tossed the towel aside, shadows flickering in his wake, and his lips curved faintly—one of those small, secret smiles that rarely appeared but always made your heart stutter. In a single smooth motion, he bent and scooped you up from the bed, as he tossed you over his shoulder. You gasped, half protest, half laughter, your hands pressing against his back.

Cassian grinned, wings rustling. “I was thinking of doing the same,” he said, following as Azriel carried you down the broad stairs.

The air grew warmer the farther you descended. Mist drifted in silver ribbons from the natural spring that pooled among the rocks, lit from beneath by soft faelight. Steam curled upward, carrying the scent of minerals and night-blooming jasmine. The water glowed faintly, clear and endless, reflecting the stars that had begun to pierce the sky above Velaris.

Cassian shed his clothes and stepped forward first, butt naked. With a wicked gleam, he leapt straight into the spring, his body cutting through the mist and vanishing beneath the surface before a rush of heat and spray burst outward, scattering droplets across the rocks. Her laughter followed, light and helpless, as Azriel set her gently down on her feet, shaking his head with a small, rare smile tugging at his lips.

Cassian surfaced in a blur of steam and wet hair, the water clinging to the sharp lines of his shoulders, laughter rumbling low in his chest. “What?” he asked, feigning innocence as his wings flared just above the waterline. “Come on, get in you two"

Azriel’s shadows curled and sighed in the humid air, but even they couldn’t hide the quiet amusement flickering in his eyes. Without a word, Az shed his clothes. Steam wreathed him, tracing the fine lines of muscle across his back, the play of shadow and gold from the torchlight. He glanced back over his shoulder, and gave her that quiet, knowing smile that said everything without a single word. Afraid to join us? it asked silently, the curve of his mouth daring her.

Then, with the grace that was purely his, he stepped into the water. Not a splash—just a ripple, the surface parting around him as though the spring itself recognized him. Cassian was already lounging in the shallows, his hair slicked back, his grin wide and unrepentant as Azriel joined.