[Author's Note: WARNING! Mild dark chapter ahead with a mention of an almost sexual abuse and violence. Like I said, it is mild and not even detailed in any way. But I'd rather be safe and leave a trigger warning here. If you're highly sensitive with these things and if these chapter can trigger you, I suggest not to read. Consider yourself warned.]

***

Her glamour remained intact, keeping her real form buried under that lesser faerie's appearance. So was her mind shield, even when she was unconscious. When she woke up in that dark prison cell, her hands shackled with a magic dampener and not knowing the fate of her boy, she wanted to cry and shatter completely.

But she didn't.

She knew how tough this life was, and she wouldn't give her enemies the satisfaction of seeing her vulnerable. She remained still in the darkness of her prison, hoping to Mother that her Thamrin was shown mercy despite his association with her.

Arwen was ready for whatever torment the Night Court, or any court for that matter, had for her in store. She was ready to die, accepting it as her fate at the cost of being the flesh and blood of the most cruel tyranny in the bloodiest history of Prythian.

But if they found out how much Thamrin meant for her, they would no doubt hurt him to hurt her-and that is something that she couldn't bear. It would destroy her completely.

So days gone by, weeks, maybe months, she didn't know. Arwen remained a living stone of a prisoner. She never utter a word, never cried once, nor breaking, no matter how much they taunted her. No matter how scared she was, her expression remained a perfect, unfeeling mask.

She thanked the Mother that her capturers never hurt her again physically, for a reason that she couldn't comprehend, though that didn't stop Rhysand from trying once in a while in an attempt to break her mind.

Her soul and strength withered slowly in that cage, but she forced herself to eat a little everyday for the hope of maybe seeing her son again someday. Her magic faltered; in the darkness she could feel her glamour slipping away. Inky black hair that once glow now matted with dirt. Pearly, otherwise pale complexion blanched from the lack of sunlight and nourishment. Her true form began showing-

Well, her worse for wear true form.

But one thing she refused to give away: her mind shield. She'd do anything to keep her father's enemy from gaining over her and break that one last defense she had.

Thamrin, she uttered the name as a prayer in her heart to anyone who would answer. To protect him wherever the innocent child was.

The door to her cell suddenly open. Two guards came not to drop her meal like they used to do, but rather to drag her out of her cell. Lacking energy, she didn't struggle. Her toes sliding against the cold black marble as they dragged her by her arms, head lolled forward and her long, inky black strands covering her once full and glowing face.

Once she opened her azure eyes again, she was met with a grinning, mocking face.

"Well well well, so the stories are true," murmured Keir, the Steward of the Court of Nightmare and the chief of the damned Hewn city, "Hybern did have a beautiful daughter. Tell me, my lady, why glamour such a pretty face?"

A series of barking laugh entered her ears. Disgust filled her when she saw the way the wicked male eyed her. She said nothing in answer, still refusing to talk.

"I heard the High Lord is having trouble breaking you," he purred to her ear, "You see, I'm going to prove my loyalty by cracking you open myself," a wicked grin, "Hell, you might as well enjoy the process."

The dark promise in his words sent ice down her spine. Of all the torture scenario that she had in her mind, she didn't count this one in. Didn't see it coming.

He was going to ruin her, and she would be once again powerless against that oppression.

The male flicked his fingers loudly and suddenly the room began to clear. Whatever audience she had, had started to walk out.

The damned male gave her one dirty grin before starting to kiss her neck. She struggled to keep still, wanting to scream. But no one would help her. No one would come to her aid.

Then she thought about Thamrin.

No, no, no.

She had to remained silent. Never break down, or else the light of her life would die along with her. Enduring the disgust, she talked herself down, reminding herself that her silence would be her last gift for her son. But the instinct to protect herself was too strong that she failed to contain her anger-or whatever strength remained on her.

She bit the ear of her abuser, teeth sinking into his flesh. Keir cried out in shock and pain as she felt his blood like iron in her mouth. He jerked away, cursing at her as he held his broken ear. Her pride got the best of her. She sent him one demeaning look, then spit his blood in her mouth to his face.

A blow to the side of her face sent her head swarming with throbbing pain and darkness before she blindly felt and heard her dress being torn off of her.

***

Azriel walked into that dungeon beneath the Court of Nightmare, the Hewn City. He always disliked this place, cramped with savages that knew no mercy nor respect for a life. A hellish place with a bunch of selfish, cruel high fae and faeries alike-which made this place a perfect place for a deserted dungeon to be.

Let darkness dwell where the light never shone. Let it be away from Velaris, his beloved city which was the total opposite of this shithole itself.

He descended the ever winding stairs with a determination to find out exactly who the Hybern's Heir was. Rhysand had had his way with her, trying to break her mind. He would try something else. He would talk to her.

She was not at her cell.

Azriel cursed under his breath. Keir didn't heed Rhysand's command not to spoil her. The spymaster willed his shadow to envelope him, winnowing and immediately transported himself straight to Keir's study.

What his eyes witnessed the moment the shadow cleared, froze him and chilled him to the bones.

A pair of azure blue eyes met his hazel ones. One glance, and a tether suddenly snap into place, one that would forever keep his heart and soul prisoner to hers.

She was his mate.

At the same time he watched with horror how Keir had his filthy hands all over her, her dress torn on one arm, extended to her chest-

His shadow grew and lunged at Keir with a wrath that he never felt before. The lord of Hewn City was thrown against the wall, screaming in agony as his bones made a snapping sound. Azriel would have taken his time with the bastard had he not seen the way his mate hung by her wrists and chained to the wall.

The dress that she had on was now but a torn, rugged cloth that poorly covered her chest. Her knees already gave out beneath her, and the only thing supporting her was that chain and the shackles that he had put on her that day when they captured her.

Guilt, wrath and torment consumed the Shadowsinger's mind. It was a sight that would forever be burned in his mind. It would haunt him. He freed her with such gentleness, careful not to hurt her further. As soon as he released one of her hand, the female began to sag to him. He supported her while freeing her other hand. Taking her in his arms, he turned with a burning wrath that made Keir trembled with fear.

"I'll deal with you later," he said with an eerie calm that spoke judgment and death sentence to the lord of Hewn City.

Not just a threat. A promise.

With that Azriel vanished, seemingly turned into shadow itself as he winnowed himself and the unconscious female out of that hell hole.

***

The High Lady of the Night Court gawked when Azriel suddenly materialized at the front porch of their estate in Velaris. A beautiful high fae with an inky black hair laid limp in his arms.

"Get Madja," ordered Azriel, "Now."

His voice was murderously calm and frightening. It was a voice that she never heard the Shadowsinger used on her, or anyone of their family members for that matter. Feyre briefly noted how pure wrath and darkness had shadowed her Spymaster's face, threatening to consume and ruin everything in his path. She had never seen that look before, and even as a High Lady, Feyre didn't dare cross him right now.

Heck, even Cassian and Rhysand didn't dare make stupid remarks regarding the female the moment they saw Azriel's burning gaze.

***

Cauldron boil me.

Cassian observed the Shadowsinger's face as they all gathered to hear his explanations. The Illyrian general should have made the connection-the inky black hair, that same dress that the female had worn when they managed to capture her. She was Hybern's Heir, finally in her true form.

And now, Azriel's mate.

Cassian knew how a male would defend their mate at all costs, protect them with their life. Now the rest of his family had to tread really carefully with Azriel, lest they inflict the wrath of the Shadowsinger.

Cassian never admitted it, but the spymaster could really scare him at times. And if they both were to fight each other to death, Azriel might just win.

"I came down to that shit hole to talk to her. I was determined to find out whether she has that army or not," the cold in Azriel's voice was deathly. "I knew she's innocent. I should have seen it-"

"Your source still isn't wrong," said Mor carefully, "She is Hybern's Heir."

Azriel's gaze darkened.

"Why let herself be held captive in that hell for three months?" spat Azriel back, making Mor flinched, "That filth Keir had himself all over her. She couldn't stop him then. What armies she could've gathered against us?"

The room fell silent.

"My source had fed me partial truth," Azriel finally tore the silence between them, "Then his head was found rolling on his house a few days after we got her. Use your brains," snapped Azriel, "She isn't the enemy. It was a misleading information," concluded Azriel loathfully-most of it towards himself.

Cassian stared at Az, dumbfounded just as the rest of them of how brutal the Shadowsinger seemed as he defended the female.

Feyre paled slightly and looking rather sick as she opened her voice. "So you're saying the things that I saw from the child's mind wasn't a planted, fake memories?"

Even Amren blanched at what her question implied. The bond that the child have with Hybern's Heir... Their rather simple, boring life together...

"We have wronged her," stated Azriel, remorse heavy in his eyes as he added, "I have wronged her."

Rhysand didn't object. No one did. Realization and guilt started at his calm expression as he looked at his mate. "When the Hybern's Heir is ready, Feyre and I are going to fetch the boy. Lift the glamour from his memory."

The boy, Thamrin, had been under care of Seseran family. Rhysand had planted false memory on the boy so he would think that the Seseran were his distant relatives and that he had been living under their care for years.

Feyre looked at Rhys, looking blanched still at the shocking turn of events. She glanced at Azriel, who now had reduced himself into almost a shadow as guilt had started eating away at him.

"We will not bring her back to Hewn City," she assured more to Az, "We'll keep her here, make sure she's taken care of."

There was no objection from her mate, the High Lord of the Night Court.

"It's a good way to monitor her too," added Amren, Rhys' Second-In-Command. The Shadowsinger glared at her, but Amren only shrugged, "We still don't know much about her. It's a precaution needed to be taken. Don't think even once that her being your mate means she stops being Hybern's Heir."

The blatant, unfiltered words spoken by Amren had successfully provoked already on edge Shadowsinger. Cassian swore under his breath at the thunder that now waged war in Azriel's hazel eyes. Before the spymaster and the Second-In-Command of the Night Court could go with it and destroy the estate in their brawl, Mor gently tugged at Azriel. "Come on, Az. Let's see Madja and see what she has to say regarding your mate's wellbeing."

His shadow seemed to retreat a bit at Morrigan's gentle suggestion. She led the Shadowsinger away to the guest room while Rhys and Feyre threw Mor a grateful look at her. Cassian let out a relieved breath at being spared from having to deal with Amren and Az trying to kill each other.

Amren, on the other hand, simply snorted, unfazed by the Shadowsinger despite no longer having that ancient devouring power anymore. But still, any of them knew that Amren remained a force not to trifle with, even without that power gleaming in her silver eyes.

***

[Author's Note: A mate he was, but Azriel still have a long way to go to actually claim her. And to know that he was the one who put Arwen in that situation... Poor Illyrian baby! Let me know what you think of the chapter in the comment, vote if you love it! If any of you have any questions or theory regarding the story, feel free to share and ask away! Thank you for reading, preciousssss readers ❤️]