Page 227

They stared at each other for several moments before Talwyn cleared her throat. “Did I see mortals here?”

“Yes. I brought them from Rydeon. I have much to fill you in on.”

“Later. You have a meeting to finish, and I have Witches to get settled,” Talwyn said. “I also need to go check on my griffin once more tonight. Make sure he’s not being a pain in the ass.”

Azrael’s brows knitted together. “You have a griffin?”

Talwyn felt her face heat and silently chastised herself. “He is not really mine. I mean, he sort of chose me, but… The whole thing is rather stupid.”

The intensity of his stare made her look away from him. “I do not think it is stupid at all,” he finally said. His hand slid from her hip, and he took a step back from her. “You will stay in my rooms?”

“I did not want to assume—”

“We are past that, Talwyn. I will meet you there in an hour.”

“All right.”

With a last lingering look, he slipped back into the council room. She took a few deep breaths, still trying to get her racing heart rate back under control, before she went to find Jetta and the others.

* * *

She was tucked into Azrael’s side when she felt it. It jolted her from sleep, her entire body tensing. She didn’t know what it was, but before she had a chance to sort it out, Azrael was rolling her onto her back and hovering above her.

“They are coming, Talwyn,” he said.

She swiped her hand down her face, trying to wake up fully. She’d checked in on the Witches after she’d left Azrael at the council room and then gone out to see Thorne. He’d glared at her, not at all happy with the small and cramped quarters of a horse stable, then he’d tucked his head under his wing and pointedly ignored her.

Every step she’d taken back up to Azrael’s rooms had her stomach doing a weird fluttering thing she wasn’t sure what to do with. She’d hesitated outside his door. Was she supposed to knock? Just go in? Knock and then go in without waiting for a greeting? She’d hated that she suddenly found herself having to evaluate these things.

But she hadn’t had to think on it too long. The door had been wrenched open, Azrael standing there shirtless and barefoot, his hair down from the knot it had been tied in.

“Why are you standing out here?” he’d asked, looking her up and down as if he’d missed something.

She’d pursed her lips, not sure how to explain her thoughts on things.

But he’d known. He’d always just…known.

Which made complete sense now that she knew everything too.

But she hadn’t gotten a chance to say any of that. He’d stepped to the side, holding the door open for her. Then he’d been kicking it shut behind her before he’d all but thrown her over his shoulder and dropped her on the bed.

“Nothing has changed between us,” he’d said. “You may not have Courts to rule. You may not have any magic. You might not be a queen to anyone else, but you are still my queen, Talwyn Semiria.” He’d methodically removed her boots and her weapons as he spoke. But then he’d paused, bracing himself above her and holding her stare. “I am yours, and you are mine. I choose you, above all others. Always.”

The Claiming Rite. Words that would do nothing for a twin flame Mark that she could no longer bear or initiate any Trials, but she still felt the claiming in her soul.

“And if my Staying does not hold?” she’d whispered, feeling a tear leak from the corner of her eye.

“Always, Talwyn. We take it one day at a time,” he’d replied, dipping down to take her mouth with his.

Then they’d claimed each other in other ways.

It had been later, when they’d been sharing a bath, that they had filled each other in on everything. What she had been doing. What he had been doing.

They’d hardly gotten any sleep when they finally went back to bed. A few hours at most. That didn’t really matter for Az, but for her…

Azrael was up, dressing and donning leathers with the same lethal grace and proficiency he had for centuries. She took in a deep breath before she got up, doing the same, albeit much slower. He was handing her a leather band to tie off her braid as she made her way to the door, following him out.

Ermir and the Wind Court General, Sion, met them in the foyer, both dressed for battle.