As Feyre and Rhys slowly made their way through Velaris, Nala flew over the Night Realm with ease. The wind was nice, and the cold air made her mind clear. Up here she could let go of the worry and fear Feyre had, up here she could just be Nala, and that was precisely why she didn't hurry after the tug she felt. Even her shadows had calmed down. The tug was still there, but it felt like a gentle guide instead of a violent hand pulling you along. So, while Nala flew in the sky and glided on gentle winds, she let every worry for Feyre go.

It was dark when Nala reached Velaris. She saw the silver shimmer around the city and felt the magic that wanted her to turn around but the tug in her belly was stronger than that magic.

Azriel, right, big house, there

Her shadows whispered as she breached the silver barrier and Velaris opened itself under her. So, instead of gliding along the river under her, Nala used her wings to fly upwards towards the massive house. She could feel Feyre again, her unease and slight amusement. And the tug in her belly? It was leading her right towards that house as well, the house where Rhys' own Shadowsinger was.

As Nala glided towards the balcony, she heard voices, one being Mor, the one who had been with Nala when rescued Feyre, and another deep voice, that of a man.

"I wanted to impress Feyre and Nala, where is she by the way? And Cassian, you could at least have combed your hair," Mor said to this Cassian.

"In contrast to others, I have other things to do, than staring at the mirror for hours," the man, Cassian said with a slight sharpness to him, but Nala could hear the playfulness from her spot.

"Yes," Mor said, and Nala was now close enough to see the woman push her long hair over her shoulder. "To fly around Velaris..."

"We have company," a second man said. His voice was dark. Nala could imagine the darkness around him. And as he spoke, she felt the tug in her belly become worse. She landed on the balcony behind Rhys and Feyre, but it didn't seem like anyone other than the man she felt the tug towards had noticed her. His wings, like Rhys', looked like those of a bat, but Nala could see the shadows dripping from them. Just like her own. This must be Azriel, the Shadowsinger. The one that had powers like her own. His whole posture was rigid, as he stared through the shadows she had landed in, it felt like he was staring into her soul. Her shadows reached out towards him, wanting her to be closer to this male, to touch him and his shadows, but Mor placed a hand on his shoulder and Nala took a step back as her eyes zoomed in on that hand. He was taken. By Mor. Nala stood no chance.

"Easy Az – no fighting tonight. We promised Rhys." Her voice was soft before she moved her glace to Feyre and in that movement, Nala took a solid step forward, letting her heels click on the floor as her shadows made way for her.

"Nala," Feyre breathed as she turned and saw her sister. What she didn't expect was the hard look in her sister's eyes and face as she walked out of the shadows, the orange tint of her veins dying down.

"Come and sit with me," Mor spoke to the sisters, after getting over the shock of Nala's sudden appearance. "The boys will get something to drink." Feyre and Nala followed the golden-haired female into the warm living room, leaving behind the High Lord and the two Illyrian warriors on the balcony. "Unless you want to drink as well," Mor kept her tone pleasant as she walked on Feyre's left side, keeping some distance between herself and the shorter Archeron sister who looked ready to murder someone at any moment. "I wanted to have you to myself before Amren got her claws on you..." Mor spoke to Feyre but before she could end her sentence, the inner doors opened on their own, and in walked the woman who must be Amren. She was short, about the same height as Nala and her black page hair was shiny and straight, her skin was smooth and fine to look at, and her face was beautiful, on the edge to look normal. She looked bored, or irritated, Nala noticed before looking into her eyes. Eyes that revealed that no matter how much she looked to be a high fae, this female was far from it. But Nala didn't feel fear, Feyre did, Nala felt her sister's fear, but didn't feel any herself. Nala wanted this female to be her friend, maybe even more than that. Amren's silver eyes drilled themselves into Nala's amber, and at that moment the two had a link, something Nala had never had before, not even with Feyre. A silvery bond of magic sprang from Amren til Nale, snapping in place. Amren understood Nala on a whole other level. It was almost like Nala could see into the silver-eyed female's mind. Her shadows grew silent. Just like they had done with the male Shadowsinger before a single one had begun to make its way towards the other woman and carefully wrapped itself around Amren's wrist.

Mor moaned in displeasure, sunk into a chair close to the end of the table, and poured herself a glass win. Cassian dumped down in the chair in front of Mor and took the flask of wine to pour himself a glass.

Azriel and Rhys on the other hand stood just inside the doors and looked on as Amren neared the sisters. While Rhys looked on somewhat relaxed, Azriel hadn't relaxed since he had sensed the winged Archeron sister on the balcony. He, for some reason, felt the need to be close to her, his shadows wanted to touch her, to caress her. And that terrified him, they had never been like that, acted like that, not even towards Mor, when he was near her, the shadow withdrew themselves. But as the next in command neared this stranger, he felt the need to be there, be a part of whatever was happening, something he had never had the desire to.

"You have excellent taste, High Lord. Thanks," the woman drawled as she stopped about a few meters from the sisters, her fingers lightly running over the silver brooch on her right chest. She turned from the sisters to look at the man.

"It suits you, Amren." The High Lord spoke, bowing her head lightly.

"Everything suits me," Amren spoke, her voice filled with confidence, but still cold. She turned back to the sisters but focused her look on Feyre this time. Nala raised only a brow as Amren stepped closer and took a whiff of Feyre. Her hand was on the dagger by her side just in case she needed a quick getaway for her and her sister. She wouldn't hesitate to take out this strange woman, no matter the link the two had formed.

Amren said something to Feyre, but Nala wasn't listening anymore. Azriel had moved, or one of his shadows had and Nala had hyper-focused on it. It got to the table before it shot back to the man. Nala raised her glace to him and a gasp almost left her lips as the tug in her belly took a hard grip on her and something snapped in place, a golden threat seemed to connect them. Nala, momentarily, lost her grip on her shadows and they flooded from her body in streams. Feyre let a little gasp and took a step back; everyone took a step away from the two Shadowsingers in the room as the shadows glided across the room to touch. And touch they almost did, but Nala took a sharp step forward, pausing her shadows in their way. Azriel did the same on the other side of the room, their shadows were millimeters from touching and the room held its breath as the two battled to get their emotions under control. Neither of them moved their glance from one another though.

Be close to them, we want them, want them now

Her shadows kept whispering as she forced them back, it took everything in her not to let them loose, to not let them touch him. The one on Amren's wrist were the only one that didn't move towards the male Shadowsinger. For some reason, she felt that she couldn't. He might be bloody handsome, but it was clear that he was Mor's. No matter how much that fact hurt her, she had seen it in his eyes when she got there. He wasn't Nala's to take, attraction or not, he belonged to Mor. With that she was finally able to get her shadows back to her, binding them to her wings that she made sure to keep behind her.

"Well, that was fascinating," Amren spoke, her eyes going from one Shadowsinger to the other. The short woman then gave a signal for Feyre to sit next to Mor, before setting herself next to Cassian. Azriel finally moved from where he had stood, tarring his glance away from Nala to sit next to Amren. Rhys sat next to Feyre, leaving only one seat, at the end of the table. Which was right between the male Shadowsinger and the High Lord of Night. With a deep breath, Nala moved, her 10 cm heels clicking loudly on the floor as she made her way to her seat.

"Even though there is a 3rd person," Amren spoke, taking up the conversion from before the two Shadowsingers had interrupted, and looked at Rhysand. "I don't think you have heard from Miryam in... centuries. Interesting."

Cassian rolled his eyes. "Can we get over this, Amren? I'm hungry."

Mor choked on her wine. Amren slowly turned to the Illyrian warrior to her right. Azriel and Nala both had their eyes on the arguing pair. This is bound to be entertaining, Nala thought as she took a swing of the red wine in her glass.

"Don't you have anyone to warm your bed currently, Cassian? That must be hard for an Illyrian, who had nothing on his mind other than his favorite body part." Amren's voice was cold as her silver eyes were fixed on the Illyrian male.

"You know that I would love to have you in my bed any time, Amren," Cassian didn't seem to be affected by the silver glare he was reserving from the woman next to him. "I know how much you love Illyrian..." Nala wanted to snare at the man, but remained somewhat calm, she only lifted a brow.

"Miryam and Drakon," Rhysand interrupted as Amren's smile became venoms, "are doing well as far as I have heard. And how is this interesting?"

Amren looked away from the Illyrian at her side and turned her glance to Feyre, something that made the female's unease increase and Nala tighten the grip on the glass in her hand, snarling under her breath, not being able to keep calm when her sister was as terrified, no matter how well Feyre hid it from others, Nala knew.

"Only ones before have a human being Made new as immortal. Interesting that it should happen again at this moment when all the former players are back. And you my girl..." Amren inhaled once more and the glass under Nala's hand groaned at the strain it was under. "Your blood, your veins, your bones were Made. A mortal in an immortal body." The glass snapped under Nala's grip as the girl continued to stare at Amren. "Ahhh... yes, the difference between then and now. The halfling." Amren mused, swinging her win around in her glass as her silver eyes met Nala's amber in a heated battle of dominance.

"I'm hungry," Mor proclaimed and ended the two females' stare down. She snapped her fingers and immediately up popped plates filled with roasted chicken, vegetables, and breed. The ruined glass in front of Nala was gone and so was the wine stain, it was replaced by a new glass filled with red wine. "Amren and Rhys can talk the whole night and bore us to death, so don't hold back, eat." She took a fork, "I asked if I could take you out and eat, just the two of us," she continued, seemly having forgotten the winged Archelon by the end of the table, "but he said that you properly didn't want that. But be honest, who would you rather be with, the two ancient finds or me?"

"For one on my age," drawled Rhysand, "I believe that you are forgetting..."

"Everyone just wants to talk-talk-talk," Mor said and made Nala roll her eyes, this woman was very hypocritical. The fae shot Cassian a look as the Illyrian opened his mouth to say something. "Can't we just eat-eat-eat and then talk afterward?"

Nala looked from Mor to Amren to Rhys. She had to admit that it was an interesting chemic between the two females Rhys had in his life. But who knows, he might just like strong women.

On Nala's left side, Azriel let out a small laugh as his eyes stayed on Mor as he took a fork and began eating. Despised not having eaten all day, Nala just sipped her wine as she looked at Feyre to make sure that she was eating. The younger sister hadn't missed her sister's pale and thin state. It wasn't till Nala had seen Feyre eat at least two full mouthfuls of food that she began to eat herself. The food was certainly better than any she had in the mortal realm.

"Don't let the old nonsense heads walk over you." She heard Mor telling Feyre as she poured her a glass of wine.

"You shouldn't talk," Cassian teased from down the table, gaining Nala's attention for the first time that night. Her amber eyes rested on him as he said something to Amren before taking the small woman's plate and pouring half on his plate and giving the rest to Azriel.

"I keep reminding him to ask before doing that," Azriel said to Amren, his voice apologetic as he let the food fall on his plate.

"If you haven't had any luck training him after so many years, then there isn't much hope for the future," Amren smiled a bit at the warrior and snapped her fingers and the plate disappeared.

"Don't you eat?" Feyre asked from her spot in front of Amren. Nala snapped her glance from the long-haired warrior she had kept her eyes on so far to look at her sister.

"Don't ask stupid questions, Feyre," Nala's voice was low and slow as she spoke. It seemed to flow out the room and had Mor jump a bit since hearing the girl speak for the first time that night, her voice now much different now, than when she got Feyre out of Spring Court. "One look in those silver eyes should have given you the answer to that."

"Careful, Halfling" Amren drawled, leading the now burning eyes of Nala onto her. Seeing literal flames in the young fae's eyes didn't seem to shake Amren, but Cassian jumped and Azriel went rigid.

"Or what?" Nala challenged, sipping her wine like she hadn't just disrespected the oldest and strongest in the room. The burning fire in Nala's eyes seemed to crash with Amren's cold fire. Like two sides of the same coin. And poor Azriel was caught between the two strong females, his throat almost closing at the raw power that flooded from them both. Even his shadows had gone rigid despite being so close to the female Shadowsinger.

"Or you might find yourself in a seat you can't talk your way out of," Amren snarled, clearly getting fed up with the disrespect the young girl showed. No one had ever disrespected Amren like that, not even Mor or Rhys. But her threat didn't have the effect she had hoped, instead of cowering or backing down, Nala laughed. From deep in her belly as fire sprung at her fingertips that still held around her wineglass.

"By the cauldron!" Mor yelled, effectively snapping the two out of their powerplay, for the second time that night.

"Remind me to have family dinner more often." Rhys mused with a grin on his face.

The rest of the table went back to eating and Azriel let out a small breath, finally able to breathe normally after Amren and Nala had quit their staredown.

"They are called amulets," Azriel spoke up after a few minutes of silence. He was holding his up for Feyre to see. Nala stiffen in her seat at his movement, as she did every time he moved. She wanted nothing more than touch him, her shadows wanted nothing more than be with the male Shadowsinger, but Nala fought them back and kept quiet. She had no right to him, he belonged to Mor, she could see it in the man's eyes. "They attach and make our powers focused when we are in battle." He finished.

Nala had noticed the amulets, on both Illyrian men.

"The strongest Illyrians go from the concept of 'attract first and ask questions later. They don't have other magic than the kill-power." Rhys explained after putting his fork down.

"Kinda like Nala then," Feyre innocently said with a small look towards her younger sister. This only made the rest of the table look toward the young Archelon sister.

"Ask your question," Nala spoke, staring the High Lord in the eyes. She knew he had questions, and his inner circle properly had as well.

"How did you get to Prythian?" Rhys asked the first thing he thought of, even though he had many more questions, such as her fae look, her wings, and her abilities.

"I felt Feyre being in trouble, so I ran, took a fucking long time, but I found my way to her," Nala explained simply and took a swing of her wine.

"Felt her?" Mor asked, her face showing clear confusion.

"Nala has always been able to tell how I felt," Feyre said with a little blush on her cheeks. "Even back home, she was the one to encourage me to go back to Prythian to save everyone."

"How?" Amren asked, staring at the amber-eyed girl at the end of the table. Said girl just shrugged with a small smirk on her face.

"Do you know who your fae parent is?" Mor asked, hoping to get a jab at the amber-eyed girl. Mor had seen the way Nala looked at Azriel and wasn't sure she liked it, especially not when Nala looked at Cassian with cold eyes.

Nala raised an eyebrow at the golden-haired female before slowly shaking her head, she only knew that her father was fae, and how he looked.

"And your wings?" Cassian asked, looking from his bat-like wings to her feathered ones.

Again, the girl shrugged and took a sip of her wine before answering. "No clue, from what I know about my father, he didn't have wings and my mom was mortal so." Nala shrugged, keeping her amber eyes locked on Cassian, staring him down.

"Interesting," Amren mused again, smiling snakelike at the winged female, before switching the conversation back to the two Illyrian warriors. "The kill-power is a violent, war-weary people's special gift." Azriel nodded next to Amren, as his shadows danced his neck and wrist. Sending silent pleas to Nala's shadows to join.

Rhys continued talking about the Illyrians, how they could use the amulets to fight and how they helped them not go berserk. After Rhys had explained, Cassian flexed his fingers with a crooked smile on his face as he looked from one sister to the other, winking at the shorter one. Unbeknownst to him that Azriel was losing control after seeing his brother wink at the female Shadowsinger.

"And then it's only a bonus that the amulets look so god damn good," he bragged as the deep red stones on the back of his hands.

"Illyrians," Amren mumbled with a roll of her eyes.

Cassian only smiled at her with a predatory smile and took a swing of his wine. Nala felt her sister's need for knowing more about these people, so it didn't surprise her when Feyre asked the warriors a question and then called Cassian 'Lord' resulting in his spitting his wine all over Mor (that got a smile on Nala's face). Mor used her magic to banish the stain on the male flying outfit. Nala saw and felt her sister's embarrassment as her cheeks got color to them. But, for once, Nala wasn't focused on her sister. Nala had noticed, Azriel's tighten fists, his shadows seemed to whip him despising the small smile on his lips from Feyre's misspoke. Nala knew, thanks to the golden bridge that connected their minds that he was livid, about something, that she didn't know. And so, without thinking, she shifted her legs from being crossed towards Rhys, so that they instead crossed towards Azriel, and she was able to hook her foot around his calf.

"Cassian is no Lord," Rhys spoke to Nala's sister, bringing Nala's focus towards the man and away from the now rigid male. "Even though he properly likes to be called it." He looked around the table. "Now that we are at the topic, the same goes for Azriel. And Amren and your sister, seeing as her father must be strong with her magic. Mor, believe it or not, is the only one here who is a true-born noble person in this room." So, Nala had been right about the wings, he wasn't a high fae, he was a halfling like her. Rhys, like Nala, had seen the question on Feyre's face and answered it; "I'm half Illyrian. As close as a bastard can be of true high fae origin."

"So, you, you three aren't high fae?" Feyre asked, wanting to be sure she understood their background.

Cassian finally stopped laughing. "Illyrians aren't high fae and are only happy that they aren't." He pushed back his long black hair and reveal rounded ears, not the pointed ones that Feyre, Mor, and Nala had. "And we aren't fae, even though some would like to call us that. We are just – Illyrian. In the best case, seen as the flying cavalry for the Night Court, or in the worst case as empty-brain recruits."

"Which is often the case," Azriel got out, still rigid and breathing a bit irregular from being touched by the female even though his pants were in the way of skin-to-skin contact.

"I didn't see you Under the Mountain," Feyre then said, and Nala snapped her eyes to her sister in disbelief. They weren't, one of Nala's shadows hissed in her ear. The room had gone silent, and no one, not even Amren or Nala looked at Rhysand. Nala because she was listing to her shadow telling her about the 50 years Rhys had been trapped Under the Mountain and the things he had been made to do by the red-headed she-devil.

Mor was the first to speak up and interrupted Nala's shadow telling her about Clare. "That's because we weren't there."

Rhys sat still, his face not showing the terrors he had seen and done under the mountain, but Nala could see it in his eyes. "Amarantha didn't know they existed. And when someone tried to tell her about it, they seemed to lose their mind."

Nala felt Feyre's shudder, but she wasn't bothered herself. Her shadows had told her enough about Rhysand Under the Mountain to know that he had done what he had to keep his family and people safe.

"Were you able to keep this city safe from her for 50 years?" Feyre asked, her voice little, but sounder loud in the otherwise silent room.

"We intend on keeping this city safe from our enemies for many more years," Amren spoke, not answering Feyre's question directly.

They feel responsible

Nala's shadows whispered in her ear and as she looked at the 4, she could see it. Rhys had risked his life to keep them and their city safe, and it was eating up his family. Giving Azriel a light nudge with her foot, she sent him a small smile of understanding, even though he only looked at her with shock in his eyes. Looking away from the male, Nala focuses' back on her shadows, all of them trying to get to Azriel since the two Shadowsingers are touching, but Nala uses the bit of control she has left and keeps them locked at her wings and neck. It didn't matter that there was chemistry between the two, Nala was convinced that she had no shot with Azriel, he was Mor's after all. She had only connected her foot to his calf to calm his rage in the only way she knew how. 

"There isn't a single soul in this city who doesn't know what happened outside the city wall. And what it has cost." Mor said with a sharpness in her voice after having seen Nala smile at Azriel. The golden-hair female wanted nothing more than to get the Halfling away from the Illyrian, as Mor doesn't trust Nala at all. Mor believed Nala to have too many secrets and her eye color gave her the creeps.

"How did you guys meet?" Feyre asked, clearly to try and get past the tension in the room. Seeing the tension leaving Azriel's shoulder slightly as he looks at Cassian, Nala moved her foot from his leg. Stupid, you shouldn't even have touched him, he is taken, she snarled at herself, ignoring her shadows telling her that she had every right to him, that he was hers. Instead, Nala too looked at Cassian, seeing the last of guilt, devotion, and pain in his eyes before he smiled, properly at the fond memories the three boys have.

"In the beginning, we hated each other." He spoke, but Feyre seemed to be another place, Nala felt Feyre's guilt toward the High Lord, before focusing on the Illyrian warrior as he spoke again. "We are bastards, as you know. Az and I. Illyrians... we love our people and our traditions, but people gather in clans and keep to the northern mountain pass and have their princes and lords. Az, "he said and pointed at the man with his thumb, so the red stone caught the light, "was one of the local lord's bastards. And if you think that a lord's bastard is hated, then it's nothing compared to how hated a bastard of a military wash lady and a warrior, who she either couldn't or wouldn't remember is." He shrugged his shoulders as if it didn't matter to him, but Nala could see the pain and hate in his hazel eyes. "Az' dad sent him to military training in our camp when he and his charming wife found out that Az was a Shadowsinger."

Rhys, seeming to have snapped out of memory lane turned to Feyre. "Shadowsingers, like Deamati, are very rare, they are coveted in all realms across the world for their ability to hear and feel things others can't. That was why I wanted your sister to come here, to learn from Azriel." At this, both Shadowsingers went rigid. They would have to spend time together, which meant that the bond between them would properly develop further, which was something Nala was sure the male didn't want since he already had a female. Mor didn't like that idea either and made this known by glaring at her cousin, who choose to ignore her. No one at the table seemed to notice that the Shadowsingers were tense though. They didn't seem to notice how both of them were fighting to keep control of the shadows that laid around their necks, and no one seemed to notice how Az had to tighten and relax his fists every other second to not jump up and claim the female sitting mere cm from him. No one noticed, other than the High Lord who had easy access to their minds since neither of them had their shields up since they used all their energy to keep the shadows in check.

"The camp leader almost shits his pants out of excitement the day Az was dropped down in our camp." Cassian continued, drawing the attention back to himself. "But as for, as soon as my mother let go of me and I could walk on my own, I was sent to another camp where they throw me in the mud to see if I would survive."

"It would have been better if they had thrown you from a cliff somewhere," Mor said and snort, her voice still cold as she glared at Rhys and eventually Nala.

"Ah, yes, undoubtedly," Cassian said and smirked. "Especially because, when I got old enough and strong enough to return to the camp I was born in, I found out that the pigs had worked my mother to her death."

The silence laid itself over the room once more. This one however was different than before. You could feel the excitement and the smoldering anger of a group who had endured so much, survived so much ... and who could strongly sense each other's pain. Nala felt for them, she did and as she looked at Cassian her glace was just a tad softer, the flames comforting instead of terrifying.

"The Illyrians" Rhys interrupted carefully. Nala noticed that the light was back in his eyes, like small stars, "are amazing warriors, and they are full of stories and traditions. But they are brutal and backward-looking, especially in the way they treat their women."

Azriel looked at the glass wall behind Feyre. Nala, at that moment, did something she had promised herself not to do. She let one strand of shadow trail down her leg and connect with him under the table. Azriel sat still, his eyes far away, but he didn't push her shadow away, she let it travel up and touched one of his shadows at his waist. As the two shadows danced around each other, Nala didn't see the House of Wind. She didn't see the dinner table and the inner circle. She saw cold unforgiven mountains; she saw a young Azriel sitting under a tree to hide from the freezing wind and brutal rain. She saw the Illyrian war camp and saw how men treated their wives and daughters. She saw how the young girls got their wings clipped, robbing them of the freedom of flying.

"They are barbarians," Amren said, unaware of what the two Shadowsingers were seeing. Mor nodded at the statement but bit her lip slightly as she saw the empty look in the male Shadowsingers eyes. Feyre on the other hand was looking at her little sister in worry. Nala was staring into the space in front of her while her hands were gripping the armrest of her chair till her knuckles were white. "They invalidate their women so they know where they have them so they can give birth to more perfect warriors." Amren spat.

Rhys cut a grimace. "My mother was a lower rang and worked as a seamstress in one of the many military bases." He looked at Feyre, getting her attention away from her sister. "When the girls become women in the camps – after their first bleeding - their wings get – stung. A single snip in the right place and a wound, that gets left to grow back randomly can invalidate someone for life. And my mom – who was mild and wild and loved to fly – did everything in her power to not grow up. She starved herself and collected forbidden herbs – everything to stop the natural development of the body. When she turned 18, she still hadn't bled, a big horror to her parents. But it came at last, and in no time a man had smelt her and told the leader of the camp. She tried to flee – flew towards the sky. But she was young, and the warriors were faster, so they pulled her to the ground again. They had to tie her up to a pole in the center of the camp, that was when my father showed up to a meeting with the leader and talk about war preparations. He saw my mother throw herself around and fight like a wildcat, and..." He gulped. "The bond snapped between them. One looks at her and he knew what she was. He misted the guards who held her."

The High Lord continued telling his parents and his own story to Feyre, effectively distracting her from her little sister who was still seeing the horrors of the Illyrian war camps through her bond with Azriel. She saw a young Cassian beat little Azriel to a bleeding bulb on Azriel's first day and was astounded that they could be so close friends now.

"You were so clean," she heard Cassian say as the dinner table was what she saw in front of her eyes again. "The beautiful half-Illyrian, son of the High Lord – you looked so fancy in your new training clothes." The warrior teased his High Lord with a smirk on his face. Nala focused on his voice till she was completely back from seeing Azriel's memory of the camp. Her shadow was still in his lap, but she noticed that one of his had made its way to her, laying in her lap. That was when she saw the difference in their shadows. Hers was slender and soft while he was thick and hard to touch but it smoothed her as she slowly ran her hand along the shadow without moving her eyes from the plate in front of her.

"Cassian used to get new clothes through the years by challenging the other boys to a fight, where the prize was the other's clothes," Azriel spoke, having removed himself from his memories and calm down partly because of the slender shadow that danced around his waist and because of Nala's hand playing with his shadow in her lap. The female had a massive effect on him that he didn't want to admit. His voice though was cold with no pride in his people's brutality, something Nala could understand after seeing what he had gone through the first long while in that camp.

Cassian grinned, but Nala had seen him too. Seen him out in the cold, battling for his life, for food and shelter, just like the sisters. Cassian blinked and looked at the Archelon sisters with a more serious look in his eyes, he evaluated them, and both of them were able to read the look in his eyes: You know how it is. You know the print it leaves.

"I had already beaten all the other boys at our age, twice," Cassian continued. "But then came Rhys in his nice clothes and he smelled... different. Like a true opponent. So, I attacked. We both got 3 whiplashes for that fight."

Feyre jumped a bit in her seat and Nala stiffened. Feyre couldn't believe that someone would beat children, unbeknownst to her that her little sister went through life being beaten by their father because he knew that the little girl wasn't his.

"They did things that were worse in those camps, my girl," Amren interrupted, having seen the question on Feyre's face and seen the terror in Nala's eyes. "Three whiplashes is only an encouragement to start fighting again. When they did something really bad, they would break bones. Multiple times. Over many weeks."

"And your mother sent you into that willingly?" Feyre asked, a bit concerned and disgusted, still unaware that her sister had suffered something similar, but it seemed that Cassian had picked up it as he saw the look in Nala's eyes. That of a child being beaten for simply existing.

"My mom didn't want me to rely on my powers," Rhysand said. At least his parent had a reason to send him to a place like that. Nala's 'father' had begun the beating when she had turned 5 when he began to see the difference between her and his 3 daughters. "She knew that from the moment she gave birth to me that I would be hunted all my life. If one power failed me, I had to have other options to pull on. My education was another weapon – and that was why she went with me: to guide me after my training was over. When she got me the first night and took me back to our house on the outskirts of the camp, she made me read by the window. That was when I saw Cassian, who came trotting through the mud - on his way to the battered tents outside the camp. I asked her where he was going and she told me that bastards got nothing: they had to get their shelter for the night, their food. If they survived and got picked to be part of a war unit, they would always be at the bottom of the hierarchy, but they would get their tent and supplies. But until then he was exiled to the cold."

"You live in the hardest circumstances you could imagine in the mountains," Azriel added with a cold face.

"After training," Rhys continued, "my mother would clean my cuts, and while she did that, it occurred to me for the first time what it meant to feel warm and safe and have someone to take care of you. And that bothered me."

"Apparently," Cassian said, but Nala could hear the relief in his voice. "Because in the middle of the night, the little idiot woke me up in my milled tent and asked me to shut my mouth and come with him. The cold might have made me stupid, but I went with him. His mother was red-hot. But I'll never forget the look on her beautiful face when she saw me and said: 'there is a tub with warm running water. Jump in or walk back out in the cold again.' And I was a smart kid, so I agreed. When I got out of the bath, she had placed clean night clothes on me and ordered me to bed. I had slept my whole life on the ground – and when I steeped, she said that she got it. She had had it the same way once and said that in the beginning, it would feel like I was being eaten, but that the bed was mine as long as I wanted it."

"So, you were friends?" Feyre asked, naïve as she was. Nala lightly shook her head, the shadow in her lap had moved up her arm to lay by her neck and whispered that the two had been dicks to its master.

"No, by the big cauldron, we weren't," Rhysand said with a snort. "We hated each other and the only reason why we acted properly was that if one of us got in trouble or provoked the other, neither of us would get dinner. My mom began to teach Cassian, but it wasn't till Azriel came the year after we decided to become conspirators."

Cassian's smile only grew as he reached around Amren to slap Azriel's shoulder. And got a short glimpse of the much more feminine shadow along Azriel's normal shadows. The male Shadowsinger let out a sigh and Nala smiled lightly at the sound. It was a sigh of lifelong suffering, but Nala could see the love Azriel held for his brothers. Even if they were dicks in the beginning. "A new bastard in the camp – and even an untrained Shadowsinger at that. And he couldn't even fly, thanks to..." Nala shortly saw a dark room with little Azriel in the corner before Mor's voice cut through the scene and brought the Shadowsingers back to the table.

"Keep on track, Cassian," Mor snarled with a smile, but her worrisome eyes fell on Az the second after. The warmth he had had on his face was gone and replaced with a cold look. Cassian only shrugged, not seeming to notice the silence that flew from the male Shadowsinger. Nala, not being able to help herself, sent another shadow to Azriel, this one placed itself around his neck and caressed the man's cheek lightly. Mor kept looking at the Shadowsinger but didn't seem to see the different shadow stroking his cheek. And Azriel didn't acknowledge the worried golden-haired female. Instead, he sent another shadow to Nala to acknowledge her. It swirled itself around her right leg and placed itself around her thigh as a tattoo. Letting her know that he was okay.

"They made his life a living hell," Nala spoke before thinking making the friend group look at her like she had grown a second head. "It was clear in his sufferable sign." Nala shrugged, covering up that she had seen them mess with a young Azriel.

Cassian smiled big. "That we did, to us it didn't matter he was a Shadowsinger. But Rhys' mom had known Az's mother and took him in. As we got older, we noticed that all the other boys hated us so much that it would be easier to survive if we joined forces."

"Do you have any special abilities?" Feyre and Nala asked Cassian in sync. They had often been told that they could pass for twins if it wasn't for the eyes. Feyre nodded her head towards Rhys, Nala, and Az, "Like those three?"

"A massive and violent temper doesn't count," Mor buts in before Cassian can open his mouth.

The Illyrian sends the high fae one of his special smiles that promised trouble before turning to the Archelon sisters. "No – I don't have any – not beyond a good amount of that kill-power. Bastard, a zero, all the way through," Rhys moved in his chair as if he wanted to say something, even Nala frowned her eyebrows, she didn't like the way Cas spoke about himself. Cassian just kept on talking though. "Still, the other men were aware that we were different. And not just because we were bastards and born of 'false' descent. We were stronger, faster – like the cauldron had known we were separated and wished for us to be together. Rhys' mother saw it as well. Especially when we were becoming men and the only thing on our mind was to fuck and fight." He laughed and Nala felt amusement coming from the male Shadowsinger.

"Men are some horrible creeps, aren't they?" Amren said, her eyes jumping from one male to the other in a teasing manner.

"Repulsive," Mor said and clicked her tongue. Nala smiled at their teasing, but she was still not a fan of how Cassian saw himself. It reminded her of how she used to talk about herself.

Cassian shrugged again with a smile on his face. "Rhys' power grew every day – and all, even the leaders, knew that he could mist everyone if he wanted to. And me and Az... we weren't far behind him." He knocked at one of his red amulets with a finger. "Bastard-Illyrian have never gotten one of these. Ever. That I and Az both got them, no matter how relucted they were giving, it got the other warriors in all camps to look at us a second time. Only true-blooded assholes get amulets – those who are bred and raised to kill. It still keeps them up at night because how the hell did, we manage to get our hands on them?" He spoke the last sarcastically.

"Then came the War," Azriel continued, and Nala felt how tense he was. She tried to smooth him with her shadows and over the golden bridge in her mind. "And Rhys' father visited our base after 20 years to see how his son was doing."

"My father," Rhys explained as he swung his wine around in his glass, "saw that his son wasn't alone in outcompeting him in strength, but also that he had aligned himself with, maybe, the two most dangerous Illyrians in history. He got the bright idea that if we got in the same unit in the war, we might get the idea to turn against him after the war was over."

Cassian chucked and continued from his point of view. "So, the idiot broke us apart. He gave Rhys the command over a unit of Illyrians who hated him because he is mixed and throw me into another unit where I served as a normal foot soldier even though my powers suppressed the leaders. Az, he kept to himself," Nala's shadow tightened around Az's hand, which made him suppress a smile of gratitude and luck, "as he personal Shadowsinger – mostly to spy and do the dirty work. We only saw each other on the battlefield over the 7 years the War tortured the continent. They would send out lists of Illyrians who died, and I read them every day and wondered if or when I would see their names. But then Rhys got caught..."

"We'll take that story another day!" Rhys said in a sharp voice that made Cassian lift his one eyebrow before nodding at his High Lord in understanding. The tone Rhys had used had made Nala flinch as it reminded her of her 'father's' voice right before he would beat her. In her panic, Nala opened the link to Azriel on accident and he ended up seeing her background like she had seen his. They stood in the kitchen/ dinner room/living room of a rather small hut for a family of 5. At the moment was only a man who had brown hair and brown eyes. It was clear that Feyre and Nala had gotten their looks from their mother. In front of the smoldering fireplace stood a young girl at around 12 years old, her amber eyes revealing who she was. This little girl was Nala and from Azriel's spot, he could already see the massive red mark on the girl's right shoulder. The man before her snarled and mumbled something but the young girl seemed to understand. She already had a red handprint on her cheek and a busted lip, but as the man took off his belt the girl's trembling turned to violent sobs. And just as the leather made contact with her face, Nala snapped out of her memory, pulling Azriel from it as well. Azriel set frozen in his seat from the pain, terror, and sadness that came through the mate bond with Nala. He knew that the abuse she had endured wasn't much to a fae, but to a little human child, it was brutal, especially when that child didn't understand what they had done to deserve the abuse they endured. Azriel also knew that it didn't help that her 'father' had been kind to her when her sisters were in the room only to hate her when they weren't.

"The Court of Nightmares," the Shadowsingers heard Mor say, clearly having missed a part of the conversation again. Their shadows told them that they had been talking about the people who didn't like Rhys and what he had done to them after Under the Mountain.

"And what is this called?" Feyre asked as she looked at the inner circle with a small smile growing on her face as she saw how Azriel was leaning towards her sister, even if the male didn't look at Nala that little gesture meant a lot.

It was Cassian who answered, his eyes were as clear and shining as the two amulets at the back of his hands: "The Court of Dreams."

"Fitting" Nala mused with a teasing smile as she sipped her wine. Amren, Rhys, and Cassian grinned at her comment. Mor glared at the short girl because Azriel seemed to puff out his chest at the comment.

"And you?" Feyre asked Mor and Amren, trying to get Mor's attention away from Nala so they didn't end up fighting.

"Rhys offered me the spot as second in command. No one had ever asked me before, so I said yes, just to see how it would be. And I found that I liked it." Amren said with a small grateful smile towards Rhys.

Mor leaned back and Nala saw how Azriel followed her movements meticulously. Reality punched her in the face at that moment and she sat up straight. She violently drew her shadows back and left him cold where they had caressed him. What were you thinking? Nala scolded herself and forced her eyes to look at Feyre and fight every muscle in her to not look at the male. This however also prohibited her from seeing the look of hurt that flashed in Azriel's eyes as he slowly retreated his shadow from her. Did you honestly think you could compete with her? It doesn't matter if you two have a bond, he belongs to her! Nala snarled in her head with such venom Rhys flinched slightly.

"What is your story then?" Cassian's voice brought Nala from her mental scolding. He was looking between Nala and Feyre. The older sister looked at Rhys, but he just shrugged, he hadn't told his friends much about Feyre and didn't know much about Nala. Feyre then turned to look at her younger sister, but Nala just sipped her wine, clearly not wanting to tell their story.

Feyre straightens in her seat before speaking. "Well, we were born in a rich merchant family with two older sisters and parents who only cared about money and status. Nala is a year younger than me. Our mom died when I was 8 and Nala was 7, and dad lost his fortune 3 years after. He sold everything to pay off his debt, moved us to a hut and didn't bother to find a job, and slowly let us starve to death for years. Nala and I tried to find jobs but not a lot wants to hire children to work for them. I was fourteen when the last money disappeared along with the food. He refused to work – couldn't because the debtors came and smashed his leg right in front of us. So, Nala and I went out into the forest and learned to hunt together. We kept ourselves alive or on the edge of hunger, for 5 years. Until... it all happened."

Everything got quiet again. Azriel took the possibility of studying the sisters. They could be twins with how similar they were. Both were slender, Nala had clear muscles on her but was built for brute strength and power, Feyre was malnourished but could have been powerful with the right training. They were pale-skinned, and their golden-brown hair was long and full. The biggest difference was their eyes. Feyre's eyes were a clear blue-grey color while Nala's were a burning amber. The eyes were really what made them stand apart, the other differences were too small.

"Nala, when did you learn about your father?" Rhys asked the female Shadowsinger, trying to get the conversation going again.

"When I was 5 and found mom's diary. Inside there was a man drawn. I only got a glimpse before mom took it and slapped me." Feyre let out a gasp but didn't say anything as Nala glared at her wine. "Then father came in asked what the problem was, and he saw the drawing and slapped me too. Over the years it got worse and when she died, and he found out that the man was my father he was furious and yelled at me that he had always known I wasn't his. That I was a no-good bastard who deserved nothing in life. That I was a freak. That night the slaps turned to beatings. He would find any ground to punish me, didn't matter if it was my fault, I would get the hit for it when my sisters weren't in the house." Nala shrugged and Feyre turned pale. "He tried to sell my body to older men," 3 growls sounded and even Mor paled, "I fought back kicking, screaming, and biting. I even cut the nuts of the last man who tried." Nala chucked with an evil and cold tone as an evil smirk played on her lips. "I only know that my father is from the Autumn Court and that is where I have my eyes from. Don't know about the wings though." Nala finished and took a sip as the rest of the dinner party took in this new information.

Cassian was the first to speak up again: "He tried to sell you?"

Nala just nodded as she popped a grape in her mouth.

"Bastard," he growled. Mor had yet to come with a remark but as Nala looked up at the female whose face looked hunted.

"How did you hide it from us? The beatings?" Feyre whispered as she looked at her sister with saddened and hunted eyes.

"Makeup if he struck my face, but other than that? Clothes could hide most of it." Nala smiled at her older sister, wanting to smooth the guilt the older girl felt. Feyre was the only one Nala had left after all. "Don't beat yourself up Feyre. You couldn't have known; you are not at fault."

Cassian shifted the conversation again, trying to lift the heavy atmosphere. "You taught yourself to hunt. But what about fighting?" Feyre shook her head while Nala nodded. Nala had even offered Feyre to come with her to her lessons with the guards' captain, but Feyre had always declined.

Cassian leaned on the table at that bit of information. "Luckily for you, Feyre, you just meet someone who can teach you. And Nala, we have to test how good you are." He smirked. Nala smirked back and winked at him.

Nala felt Feyre hesitate and felt the stupid question before Feyre could ask it though. "Isn't it going to send the wrong message if I begin to learn to fight – and use a weapon?" The silence that followed Feyre's question was suffocating. The only sound that cut the silence was Nala's growl and her chair that got thrown back as she got up from her spot. Her wings were up in an instinct and her dagger was in her hand. Walking towards the glass doors with quick steps, Nala almost missed her sister's protest.

"Where are you going?" Feyre asked, panic in her voice, she didn't want to lose her sister over how fucked her past was.