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The fists that swung at Azriel fought a losing battle, they aimed for a target they'd never reach. Yet over and over again they came, desperately trying to land a blow on the creature of shadow.
Having grown weary, Azriel caught one of the fists in his hands with ease and said, "You're getting sloppy."
Before him stood Callum Lockwood, Captain of the Royal Guard here at the Forest House. He was an old acquaintance of Eris's. Azriel wouldn't go so far as to classify them as friends, though if the High Lord had one, it would be Callum.
The pair faced one another in a training ring at the Guard complex. The building stood separate from the Forest House, an underground tunnel connecting them.
As a favor to Eris, Azriel had agreed to assess the capabilities of the Guard- oversee a few drills, identify weaknesses in operations, and determine areas of improvement. Azriel was no general like his brother but his knowledge on security far outpaced the most skilled strategist here. The task was a stepping stone for Azriel's eventual integration into Autumn.
Considering the Royal Guard's official duty was to protect the nobility of the Forest House, which included his mate, Azriel did not take this charge lightly. They needed to perform to perfection, starting with their captain.
"I'm getting sloppy because we've been sparring for an hour," Callum said to him, sweat running into his eyes.
Azriel merely hummed, taking note of the lack endurance.
He heard his mate's derisive chuckle from where he stood observing them on a platform that lined the upper lip of the training ring.
Azriel knew he was being overly critical but he enjoyed the amusement Eris got from it far too much to stop. He adored the High Lord's wicked, bordering on cruel, sense of humor.
"Stop punching and get creative. It'll take more than your hands to get me off my feet," Azriel instructed him.
Another chuckle from above brought his eyes up to Eris. His breath whooshed from his lungs as he took his mate in. Even now, a month after their bond snapped and they embarked on their relationship, Azriel still felt breathless at the sight of him.
Eris wore a loose cobalt blouse paired with tight black riding pants, a jacket lay draped over the railing next to him. Azriel would forever be grateful for the Autumn Court style that encouraged pants that unyielding. Two hoops on his right ear were connected by a chain that spanned from his lobe to the cartilage of his beautifully pointed ear.
At the attention, Eris shifted to place one of his legs on a lower bar of the railing. An innocuous position to the casual observer but Azriel knew his mate, knew the subtly of his strategies. As he was sure Eris intended, the movement drew his eye to his mate's long lithe leg. He traced its length with his gaze and wished he was doing it with his tongue. The Illyrian's shadows darted out in front of him, conveying his desires.
Azriel was broken from his reverie by a kick to the back of his knee. His distracted state and accuracy with which the kick hit the soft spot of him, made Azriel's leg buckle underneath him as he fell back.
He landed hard on his wings. At once, his mind whited out in rage.
The next move from Azriel was pure instinct. If he could've reasoned more with himself, he would've.
Callum was sent flying back into the wall of the training ring with a blast of blue energy from Azriel's siphoned chest. The portion of the barrier he hit splintered under the impact.
He heard Eris curse and rush down from the platform as Azriel climbed steadily to his feet.
Taking long strides, he met Eris where he was pulling Callum from the wall.
With an arm slung around the Captain's waist to keep him up, Eris pointed at him and said, "You. Meet me at the manor, I'm going to drop him off at the healer." He winnowed away in a crack of light.
Humiliation followed Azriel through the shadows as he winnowed into Eris's living room.
He threw himself down onto a low-back brown leather sofa, wings unfurling over the back on it. Azriel's head hung low as he waited for his mate's return, shadows tightening in around him. He felt like a youngling waiting for punishment.
After about ten minutes, he felt Eris winnow into existence behind him. Azriel didn't acknowledge him.
"Are you going to tell me what that was about?" Eris was looking at him questioningly, eyes blazing.
Azriel clenched his jaw and shifted it side to side, attempting to loosen the tension that lay there. He didn't want to meet Eris's penetrating gaze. On a normal day Azriel found it hard to fight his mate's insistence, but he became completely helpless when Eris was looking at him with the full might of his power.
"Why did you nearly blast a hole through the Captain of my Royal Guard?" Eris asked him.
A tug on the bond that wrapped around Azriel's heart proceeded the warm touch of Eris's hand on his chin. The High Lord jerked his head up so that Azriel was forced to lock gazes with him. Where he expected to find annoyance, there was only patience and understanding.
"Talk to me, Azriel."
"My back," Azriel murmured, reluctantly.
"What?" Eris's brows bunched in confusion.
"I don't like to be on my back. On my wings." Azriel murmured again, volume barely raising.
Lack of understanding continued to cloud his mate's face as he said, "It hurts? You weren't there very long."
Azriel clicked his tongue in frustration, he was mortified by the whole situation. "It's not-" he cut off trying to find his words, "Illyrians' wings are sensitive but it's more than just touch. It's who we are, an intricate part of our being. Without them, I am nothing. It's instinctual to protect them at all cost, to never be pinned down on them. I just... I only spar with Cassian and Rhys and we all know not to put each other on our backs. With Callum- it was... I just didn't handle it well."
Azriel flushed under Eris's attention before continuing, "I never usually get bested like that, let alone knocked onto my back. I reacted poorly, I'm sorry."
His mate just shook off his apology. He opened and closed his mouth looking as if he struggled to say something.
Eventually, he said, "On Mabon... it seemed...okay? Was it not?" Eris appeared genuinely worried at the prospect.
Azriel huffed out a laugh and grabbed one of the High Lord's hands. He followed his scarred thumb as it traced over Eris's fingers and played with the gleaming rings that adorned them, twisting one around absentmindedly.
"That was different. And I had never... never let that happen before with a lover. I had never willingly let anyone trap my wings like that."
He was sure his next words would go right to the cocky High Lord's head, but Azriel would say them anyway for he could never resist igniting that gleam of satisfaction in the male's eyes. "You're different, Eris. I trust you. Now and then. So, that is why it didn't freak me out when you did it. Because it was you, only you."
Azriel wasn't sure he ever expressed his trust for Eris verbally. The admission eased a small weight off his chest.
He chanced a glance up to his mate's face, expecting to find a shade of arrogant delight plastered onto it. Instead he was met with Eris's wide amber eyes rimmed with tears.
He squeezed the male's pale, lithe hand that was still in his grasp and raised it so that he could press a kiss on the back of it. The wide hand slide forward to cup his cheek, thumb rubbing idly. His shadows slipped out to wrap around it, integrating it into his being. Azriel remembered, not too long ago, when he sat alone, despondent on the foot of his bed, aching to know what this very gesture felt like. Imagination did no justice to the beauty of reality; nothing could emulate the way Eris looked upon him with unbridled reverence as they were connected by one burning palm.
Azriel intimately understood the truth that swam in his mate's unshed tears. The vulnerable weight of knowing how much someone instinctively cared for you. Azriel had given Eris something he had never given another. It was an overwhelming feeling.
To ease his mate's mental burden he moved the conversation on, "I'm not even sure why I trusted you so much at that point but I did...I really am sorry that I blasted Callum like that."
Eris's face split into a wide, unrestrained smile packed full of adoration and happiness. For him, only for him.
"I know why you trusted me," the High Lord said and tugged on the bond between them in answer. "And don't worry about Callum, he'll be fine. He's only missing his eyebrows but they'll grow back in no time."
Eris cupped him on the back of his neck and brought their foreheads together, running his fingers through the short-cropped hair at the base of Azriel's head. Azriel inhaled the scent of his mate deeply, the cinnamon and sandalwood aroma eased the tension in his body. He could melt into the floor with the way Eris's presence calmed him. The High Lord knew him so well, could easily decipher the complicated riddle of Azriel's brain.
Some innate ability allowed the Illyrian to communicate with the shadows the eddied around his shoulders, Eris was similarly gifted with his understanding of Azriel's mind. He could speak to and understand it when no one else could, himself included.
"You're alright, Azriel." Eris followed his words with a soft press of his lips to the side of the Illyrian's temple.
Azriel wasn't sure what he did in his long, long life to deserve the gentleness and care with which Eris handled him. Whatever it was, he'd be eternally grateful.
"Now how about," his mate leaned in to whisper into his ear, "we go bathe and you can take these pants, that I saw you eyeing up earlier, off of me."
He followed Eris upstairs eagerly, regret long gone.