The night had settled over Velaris like a velvet shroud, soft and quiet. Azriel walked alone beneath the stars, the cobbled streets echoing faintly under his boots. Rhysand and Feyre had retired to the River House, laughter trailing behind them. Cassian had vanished hours ago, likely tangled in Nesta’s sharp tongue and sharper embrace. And Elain… Elain was not his. She never had been—not truly. The bond she shared with Lucien was a thread he could never sever, no matter how tightly he’d tried to hold on.

He didn’t speak of the ache. He didn’t name the hollow space that widened each time he saw his brothers with the Archeron sisters. He simply walked, shadows curling around him like smoke, until they stilled.

Azriel halted.

The shift was subtle, but his shadows whispered of something… different. Something that tugged at the edge of him, not with alarm, but with recognition. His gaze lifted to the library windows, golden light spilling out into the dark. And there—through the glass—he saw her.

She was crouched down beside a desk, surrounded by stacks of books, her fingers moving with quiet purpose as she sorted through them. She made his shadows hush and his heart stutter.

Azriel stepped inside, the door closing behind him with a soft click. He paused in the threshold, watching her. The scent of parchment and ink wrapped around him, grounding him in the moment.

He cleared his throat, his voice low, deep, and monotone as it had always been.

“I didn’t know the library kept stars inside.”

She looked up.

And Azriel knew.