One hand unmarked and the other tattooed skim the ivories before I settle onto the bench as he moves next to me on silent feet. Music drifts through my head; the basic lessons I knew as a child that my mother painstaking guided me through come first, then her lilting voice murmuring instructions into my ear. Screaming, her screaming comes next.

"Father was killed first." I begin softly. "The fae male stepped towards my mother and he instantly moved in front of her. I'm not even sure if he was aware that he did it before he was sliced clean through with my mom screaming as if it had been her. As if the second my father died, she died too, but the husk of her body was leftover." The images are still so clear in my mind and I wonder if they'll ever fade. "She was next, then my brothers as they tried to protect us. I...I didn't look as they were struck down but held my sister's head to my chest with my face buried in her hair." She was crying. We both knew what was coming and there were no assurances to whisper to one another. Our only hope was that the next blow would kill both of us. Of course, that didn't happen. "I couldn't tear my eyes away when they took my sister and shredded her throat so her blood splattered over me."

My fingers falling down on the keys jerks me out of my memories before my eyes snap to Azriel's. His eyes are clear and steady, but the smile that was once on his face has vanished along with mine. "This will not be happy," I warn and he barely nods before I look back to the keys. I don't waste any more time before letting it flow out of me. As promised, it's not an uplifting tune. My hands spend most of their time in the lower notes with brief trips to the higher. Like screams in the night.

There's relief in finally allowing the music out again and hearing it fill the room along with the world outside it. I name the song as my fingers slide over the keys to the throbbing hole in my gut. Grief. This is grief. I'd been avoiding it and with everything happening so big and loud around me it was easy, but now in the quiet, before we head out to live or die, it comes back to me. Perhaps that's how my family plans to haunt me since I have to live for eternity without them. I hold the last note and it rings like a death knoll before silence descends over the room.

"Thank you." Azriel whispers and my watery eyes lift to his. He nears and I slide to the side of the bench as he settles down to sear me with his warmth. His wings curve around us as much as they can while I hold his hand in both of mine on my thigh.

"Sometimes I don't realize it's there, but other times it feels like I'm barely here at all. The gaping nothing feels like it takes up more space than I do." I whisper and he shifts a bit closer.

"It comes in waves. It's enough to hold on through it." He tells me and I nod while releasing a long breath. "Can I do anything?" He offers and the edges of the hole close slightly. Slowly, I take his hand and slide it under my wings, then under my shirt to rest on my waist. My eyes are steady on his and my touch purposefully kept light so he can pull away at any time.

"Is this okay?" I ask with our faces mere inches apart. His head barely moves as he nods. My body moves as close as possible to his warmth before I rest my head on his shoulder. "This is enough. Just for a minute." My eyes shut as I focus on everything that makes Azriel, Azriel. His night-chilled mist and cedar scent, those scarred hands, and the gentle way he touches me. His hand on my waist hesitantly tugs me closer while his other reaches up to coast over my face, then brush over my curls. We remain like that for a while until it's time we got to dinner. We rise from the bench, but Azriel's hand catches mine before we walk out.

"One more thing." He murmurs with a glimmer in his hazel eyes. My brows furrow as he opens his other hand to reveal gleaming silver pins for my hair in the shape of the moon and stars. My lips part as I reach out to trace the body-warmed metal in his palm.

"Azriel," I whisper and glance up at him. His lips lift as he shakes them into my hands and they clink softly as they fall.

"Fit for the Advisor of the Night Court." He says and I smile at the gesture and the reminder.

"I'll wear them proudly," I promise. Not only because he gave them to me, but because of what they represent and what I now represent. My thumb caresses the silver moon as I stare up at him and take in the planes of his elegant face, the curve of his mouth, the shadows rising off his shoulders like steam. I go up onto my tiptoes and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Thank you." I roll back onto my feet and bask in the warmth in his eyes before he nods, then flicks his chin to the doors. Right, we have a dinner to get to.

* * *

Dinner is stiff and quiet as our minds are all occupied by what's to come tomorrow. Azriel, Mor, and Rhys go over every single bit of information available to them while Feyre and I sit to the side with glasses of wine. Still, we both listen to everything being said. The rest of the night passes slowly and I barely get any sleep before morning light is leaking through the windows. I don't bother eating in case it just all comes up later, but pop up and immediately head out to complete the first mission of the day. Finding Cassian to give him what he has to wear to the meeting.

He's not hard to find.

His skin is gleaming slightly with sweat as I clumsily land on the House of Wind with the bundle in my arms. "Ugh, I was hoping you forgot." He huffs while turning to face me and I try very hard not to stare at his chest or the tattoos that cover most of him.

"Not a chance. Mind putting a shirt on?" I offer and he smirks while wiping his face with a towel. Still, he doesn't argue before slipping one on that sticks to his sweaty skin.

"Go on, get it over with." He gestures to the bag in my hand with growing dread building behind his eyes. I hum and reach into the bag, then bring out a small box about the size of a dinner roll. Cassian's brows instantly furrow. "If this is some sort of piercing, then—"

"Gross, no." My head shakes before he can finish and open the box to pull the item into my hands. "I know it's not much and it is your choice if you want to wear it or not, but I thought the reminder might be nice. Steadying." I go on as his confused eyes flit from mine to my closed hands. Huffing a soft breath, I open my hands to reveal a small silver necklace with a single charm on the end; Illyrian wings. "The...the metal is from an old washboard. That's why it's ridged." I explain with my eyes roving over his face and my fingers pointing out the bumps. "You know, because of—"

"My mother." He finishes and his voice is shockingly soft. His hands reach out and gingerly take the charm while his thumbs run over it again and again. "You...you got me this to wear today for our bet? This?" He asks and my fingers knit together as I nod.

"I figured we need you steady rather than picking at the pink lace underwear I was also considering." I shrug nervously and am about to remind him that he doesn't have to wear it when I'm crushed into his arms.

"Thank you, little sister." He breathes as my arms lower onto his shoulders to properly return the hug.

"Of course," I murmur and let his warmth sink into me before he steps away and shoves the necklace into my hands. My smile is soft as he kneels in front of me and I hook the chain around his neck. I've never seen his eyes shine as bright as that moment as he looks back at me while fingering the pendant. "You do still owe me a lot of foot rubs." He howls before patting my shoulder.

"Yes, agreed. For now, we both need to start getting ready." His head tilts back to the townhouse and I grimace at the reminder as well as the rising bundle of nerves in my stomach. "We'll all be there for each other. Go get dressed." Cassian assures me and I nod once before winnowing back to the house to put on the outfit I'd picked out so recently.

Some of my nerves fade as I consider myself in the mirror and find myself so very different from how I looked when I first arrived here.

My body is full and curved, but where I once was soft, toned muscle now lies. The paleness from my sunken cheeks had turned rosy and my face is full. My cheekbones no longer stick out like blades under sunken eyes, but gleam softly under hazel orbs that still don't shine, yet I can see color in the depths. The curls that were once a rat's nest now lay delicately arranged on my head with a few escaping to frame my face and gleam in the fae light. My wings stretch out to the sides and I admit I love them. Admit that they're beautiful and I'm so grateful to have them. It's as if I was born to have them. I look healthy. Healthier than I'd been in years, even when I was with my family. Hell, my breasts and ass are fuller too now that I'm properly fed all the time. The outfit that the ladies helped pick out is the icing on the cake.

The first layer is skin-tight like the Illyrian leathers so I have a solid base for movement and defense. Scales also cover the edges just like Illyrian armor. It's pure black and the pants fade away starting at my hip, turning into a bold strip of fabric that wraps all the way to my ankle that leaves slices of skin exposed here and there. The same goes for the top and sleeves that wrap the same way to my wrist with a loop that goes over my middle finger. Slices leave some of my waist exposed and the neckline is cut to show all of my tattoo. The one that marks me as Rhys and Feyre's advisor. Making the whole thing slightly more modest are tendrils of midnight blue fabric that connect to my shoulders and hips, then flow down to the floor. The fabric shimmers like the night sky and moves when I do, much like my shadows.

The final touches are Illyrian boots, gloss for my lips, and the silver pins that Azriel gave me for the occasion. Only now do I realize that the outfit is very much an amalgamation of all of them. I stare into the mirror for another moment and smile, really smile, then head out. Voices drift up to me as I come to the top of the stairs, but I barely notice any of them when Azriel's eyes lock onto mine. He's in his Illyrian armor and I'm glad to see it's been cleaned since the last time I saw it. As always, he looks beautiful, but the expression on his face takes my breath away.

Awe. That's the only way to describe his parted lips, wide eyes, and the way his breath has seemed to get caught in his throat. A warm smile curls onto my lips as I tilt my head slightly in greeting and so that he can see his pins in my hair. As I descend the stairs, nothing else seems to exist until we're face to face by the door. We burn there for what could have been an hour before he speaks. "You...you look..." His eyes search mine and I'm already smiling at the fact that he's lost his words when he's usually so composed. "You look devastating." He says at last and a true grin breaks out on my face then.

"And you look absolutely fatal." I return and the corner of his mouth turns up while I start to think how much I'd like to feel that smile against my own...

"Do you two need time?" Cassian clears his throat and we both sigh, then turn to look at the group. They all look sharp, including the surprise of Nesta, although Mor seems to have dimmed slightly. Feyre and Rhys are the jewels though with those lovely crowns on their heads and the love they share gleaming in the very air around them. My head tilts to both of them. Rhys nods back with a knowing look to Azriel behind me and Feyre is smiling softly. "No going back now." Cassian continues with a gesture to the male's wings.

"I figure it's time for the world to know who really has the largest wingspan," Rhys says nonchalantly and Cassian laughs while I snort.

"Right. Me." I return and Rhys' eyes widen, then the room truly laughs. It's a gift given what we're about to walk into.

"Twenty gold marks says there's a fight in the first hour." Cassian bets with a wink towards me.

"Thirty, and I say within forty-five minutes." Mor counters while crossing her arms and looking between Azriel and me.

"You do remember there are vows and wards of neutrality." Rhys reminds her, but the golden-haired woman shrugs.

"You lot don't need fists or magic to fight."

"Fifty, and I say within thirty minutes. Started by Autumn." I whirl when I hear Azriel lay his bets and he quirks a brow as if to invite me in on the fun.

"One gold mark and an unspecified favor on a fight within the first hour. Started and finished by us." I condition and receive mock expressions of hurt from the others, but only a twinkle of amusement from Azriel.

"Try not to look like you're all gambling on them. And no cheating by provoking fights." Rhys conditions and gets nothing but grins from everyone in return. "A hundred marks on a fight within fifteen minutes." He throws in his own bet while I shake my head, but I'm smiling along with everyone else. We look to Feyre who looks like she would happily kiss and slap us all.

"Rhys and I are a team. He can gamble away our money on this bullshit." Her eyes land on me and I smirk at the clear desire that I might have resisted. I shrug and a smile peeks through her playfully cloudy expression.

"A queen in appearance—" Rhys teases as he loops his arm with hers.

"Don't even finish that."

"Shall we?" He offers with laughter in his voice while looking us over. I straighten as the levity fades and we refocus. Rhys looks at the clock to be sure of the time, then nods to Azriel whose hand I cling to. We both vanish into shadows and darkness before being reborn into a world of clouds and light. We blend into the shadows as we both listen to their secrets for a few moments to make sure it's safe, but I'm almost made dizzy by the number of whispers. Still, after a moment, Azriel and I exit the sparse shadows as the others arrive. Rhys and Feyre are in the front, then Nesta flanked by Cassian and Mor, which means Azriel and I bring up the back. It gives me a chance to observe everything as we move.

The clouds gleam in honeyed sunlight amongst a sky so blue it could be a painting. Morning still stains the air with the scent of fresh dew even so high up in this mountain palace. It could be the sister to the one in Velaris, the other side of her dark coin. Every corner seems to reveal more open space, verandas, balconies, archways, beautiful stone that shimmers like hard amber everywhere we look. We enter a staircase spiraling further upward and I roll my shoulders to feel the solid weight of my wings behind me. I can do this.

Voices drift to us and I feel Azriel brush his hand against mine as a final comfort as we reach other company. A circle of deeply cushioned oak chairs surrounds a shallow reflection pool with its dark water colored by the vivacious flowers that dot its smooth surface. Arches sit at the back of most of the chairs and a few are fashioned for wings, but not just Illyrian wings. Other winged beings stand around a slender, beautiful Fae, Thesan, but their wings are light and feathered.

"Do you prefer them?" Azriel asks over the bond, but his face at my side is stone cold. I consider the question as the group looks to us and I feel shocked eyes rove over me.

"I like them, but I like ours better. There's seem...too soft. Ours are the wings of warriors." I respond honestly and see his lips twitch before Thesan moves.

"Welcome." He bids with a voice that's strong and deep. "Or, since you've called this meeting, perhaps you should be doing the welcoming?" My eyes watch his every movement, along with all those behind him, while keeping my shadows tight to my body. Alert. We all must be.

"I may have requested the meeting, Thesan, but you were the one gracious enough to offer up your beautiful residence," Rhys responds diplomatically and Thesan's head dips before he turns to Feyre. My eyes sharpen, but I bow when the others do while my shadows watch the room for me.

"Your home is lovely." Feyre bids and I nearly smile at her courage while the High Lord stares at her. The others approach now and I don't look away from either's gaze. Let them try to intimidate me and see what kind of monster lies beneath my fair skin.

"Kallias." Rhys greets the High Lord of the Winter Court who looks every bit like the season personified. My eyes are on the group of similar fae staring at us from their seats, then I nearly melt into shadows when Mor squeals like a stuck pig. The two females burst toward one another before wrapping their arms around each other. My eyes are wide as they embrace, sobbing, laughing, squealing, and appraising each other while the rest of us are frozen.

"You look the same! I think that's the same dress I saw you in—"

"You look the same! Wearing fur in the middle of summer—how utterly typical—"

"You brought the usual suspects, it seems—"

"Thankfully, the company has been improved by some new arrivals—" Mor waves Feyre and I over even though I would have kept to my High Lady's back even if she hadn't. "Viviane, meet Feyre and Kaira. Feyre and Kaira, meet Viviane—Kallias's wife." Feyre looks to the aforementioned man while I examine the stunning woman before me and she does the same to me.

"I'm not sure if I've ever heard of a female Shadowsinger, much less met one." She muses with her silver hair glittering in the sunlight, the opposite of mine that seems to eat the sun whole. I hold out my hand, shadows pulled back, but still lingering at my wrist. A challenge and an invitation.

"I plan to change that," I say evenly and let the rest of them decide whether stories of me will be at their side or against them. Viviane considers my hand before taking it with a small smile.

"I look forward to it." We shake once before we rescind and I'm glad to have found one person so far that seems like an ally.

"I tried to suggest she stay at home, but she threatened to freeze my balls off." Kallias comments and Viviane only smiles sweetly at her husband. The corner of my lips turns up.

"Sounds familiar." Rhys allows and Feyre shoots him a glare before she reaches forward to take Viviane's hand.

"Wife." Viviane's tongue clicks with disbelief as she shakes Feyre's hand. "You know, it still sounds strange to me. Every time someone says it, I keep looking over my shoulder as if it'll be someone else."

"I have yet to decide if I find it insulting. Since she says it every day." Kallias comments and the corner of my mouth lifts when she sticks out her tongue at him. Mor grips her friend's shoulder and regains her attention.

"It's about time." She says and Viviane blushes.

"Yes, well—everything was different after Under the Mountain." Her sapphire eyes move to Feyre as she bows her head. "Thank you—for returning my mate to me."

"Mates?" Mor interrupts excitedly. "Married and mates?"

"You two do realize that this is a serious meeting." Rhys comments.

"And that the fish in the pool are very sensitive to high-pitched sounds," Kallias adds and my lips purse when Viviane shoots them both a vulgar gesture. Still, I note the tension between the High Lord of the Winter Court and my High Lord. Azriel explained what happened as much as he could and I remember all his stories about Under the Mountain. Fae children are treasured and in the Winter Court, they were slaughtered. My eyes linger on the two even as the third High Lord approaches wearing white and gold that shows starkly against his rich, dark skin.

Golden spikes peek out from onyx hair and make his hard, amber eyes seem bright as gold coins as he comes to a stop a healthy distance away. My head tilts as a shadow curls over my ear. "Helion, Spell-Cleaver. Sun Incarnate. Burning Fire. He, much like the High Lord of the Night Court, is not as he seems." Hopefully, his likeness to Rhys doesn't end there.

"Could he be an ally?" My shadows seem to laugh at my question before I pull their reins tighter.

"He already is."

"Does Tamlin know who she is?" He asks and his voice is carefully kept cold, but I'm now critical of him. Cautiously optimistic.

"If you mean beautiful and clever, then yes—I think he does." Rhys drawls, but Helion's expression doesn't change.

"Does he know she is your mate—and High Lady?"

"High Lady?" Viviane squeaks and Mor pulls her to the side while I stand a little taller at being at Feyre's side; my High Lady's side. Thesan and Kallias examine Feyre a bit more closely while my eyes flick between the two of them to take in every minute movement. Cassian and Azriel slide closer.

"If he arrives, I suppose we'll find out," Rhys says smoothly and Helion laughs darkly with every inch of him thrumming with muscle and power.

"I always liked you, Rhysand." He comments and I shuffle forward to draw his attention from them just as Thesan steps forward, no doubt for the same reason. But Helion's eyes have snagged on me already and shine with the promise of new knowledge. "A female Shadowsinger, Illyrian by appearance, but...not quite." His eyes raise to my pointed ears and I take his consideration without flinching or looking away from his eyes. He seems pleased by this. "High Fae, Illyrian, and a Shadowsinger. Rhysand, you've been holding out on us." Rhys just shrugs with eyes glancing to me in permission to handle it on my own.

"I'm family only recently found. A pity there's only one of me or else I could be shared more evenly. Perhaps that will change in the future." Should everything go well today. I don't miss Rhys' tilted smile before I take another step closer to Helion while the room shifts uneasily. I bow as I should before looking back into gleaming golden eyes that shine brighter than before.

"A pity indeed." His deep voice lightens slightly into a purr and when he offers his hand, I accept it, finding his skin warm as a hearth. "And who is your other guest?" He asks while watching my retreat and I shift closer to Nesta at the question. Naturally, she seems to all the world completely unphased.

"She is my sister, and our emissary to the human lands. Kaira is our personal advisor." A smile slices across my face at Feyre's words as she steps back to Nesta's other side. "And they will tell their story when the others are here."

"She is Fae."

"No shit." Viviane murmurs and Mor snorts, but everyone ignores the outburst.

"Who Made her? Both of them?" My chin juts out at the question, but my head turns slightly towards Nesta. They were the ones who were betrayed while I was simply a convenient experiment. A test subject. Their story is the one that matters today.

"Hybern did," Nesta responds without a hint of fear or anxiety. I'm proud of her for it and have no doubt she's thinking of sweet Elain to give her strength. Feyre, however, seems to have had enough and takes her sister's arm as she walks to her seat. I'm as close as her shadow at her back.

"They threw them both in the Cauldron, along with my other sister, Elain." She says and settles down every inch a queen with Nesta sitting at her side. Her blue-grey eyes level each High Lord and I believe Rhys is fighting a proud smile. "After the High Priestess Ianthe and Tamlin sold out Prythian and my family to them." Nesta nods her silent confirmation as Feyre's head tilts and I settle in the seat one over from her right so I'll be at Rhysand's right.

"That is a heavy accusation to make—especially of your former lover." Helion comments with eyes blazing brighter than any fire. I bristle at the thought that they may not believe us, believe her, but Feyre remains cool and collected.

"It is no accusation. We were all there. And now we're going to do something about it." Feyre swears and I ruffle my wings slightly with pride as well as to remind them what they'll be dealing with if they don't. Our eyes are drawn by Viviane's gleaming hair as she elbows her mate.

"Why can't I be High Lady as well?"

*A/N*

Here we go, everyone. Time for the meeting of the High Lords (and one High Lady). This is very near the book version, but with Kaira. Hope you enjoy the familiar scene. ;)