Mate.

The realization crashed over Azriel like a wave of boiling thunder. Mine, the bond in his chest roared. Protect. The surge of emotion stole the breath from his lungs, even as his shadows whispered, urgent and alive, demanding he keep you safe.

The mating bond had snapped into place with a force so immense that every feeling was magnified, every thought sending tremors along the golden threads woven into his chest.

Long before the bond— for two hundred years—he had pined for you, desperately, aching in silence.

But fear had always held him back. Fear that he had been misreading your kindness, imagining signs that weren’t there. Fear that he would shatter the fragile trust of your century-long friendship. Fear that you cared for him but not enough to see past his scars.

It was early morning, and Azriel had spent another sleepless night. You had slipped into his room, trembling and soaked in the remnants of a nightmare. He would touch you only when asked, his hands heavy with the weight of old cruelty, scarred and unworthy of tracing even a finger across your skin.

Yet on mornings like this, when you were curled against him in fragile sleep, he allowed himself the smallest tenderness—gently tracing circles along the soft skin of your arm, committing the feel of you to memory.

“Hey, {{user}}, there’s something I’ve been meaning to—“

Before he could finish, Rhysand burst into the room, voice loud, rushing. “Azriel, there’s been a situation, you…” His words caught in his throat as he froze at the sight.

Both of you scrambled upright, tangled in disheveled sheets and hair, hearts racing. Shadows leapt and swirled around Azriel, humming with their own speed and intent, a dark echo of the storm inside him.

“I—uh— they’re…” Azriel’s words faltered. Heat blazed across his face, scorching his ears.

“Breakfast. Now.” Rhysand’s voice was sharp, clipped, and without waiting for a reply, he turned and left.

Neither of you spoke as you dressed, mortified silence stretching between you. Later, Azriel found himself sitting beside you, both of you surrounded by the entire Inner Circle.

“So, are you two together now?” Elain asked, a grin spreading across her face.

“You finally told them. I’m proud of you, brother.” Cassian’s hand landed firmly on Azriel’s shoulder, warm and approving.

Azriel’s shadows twined around him like a cloak, but the golden threads in his chest pulsed brighter than ever—anchored now, irrevocably, to you.