So it's been a while since I've posted to Fanfiction and for that I'm sorry! This story isn't forgotten, merely...was posting it on tumblr for a while. I have many more chapters to post, so get ready for regular updates!

Chapter Eleven

We glammored ourselves as Winter court fae the moment we crossed the court's borders. I had to say I was amused to see Azriel without his wings, his dark hair a snow white color. I could tell Azriel was equally amused by my appearance as well.

"What?" I snapped for what seemed like the hundredth time as I caught Azriel sneaking a glance at me. He shrugged and I swear I saw a smile on his lips before he turned his face from me.

"Your freckles stand out more now."
I blinked and felt my face heat up.

"And that's funny how?"
Azriel shrugged his shoulders.
"It reminds me that you're much younger than you act. Sometimes you seem so old Myriad."

"Maybe I prefer it that way," I said quietly. Azriel turned back to me and his eyes narrowed. He stopped walking and put his hand out in front of my chest, keeping me from passing him.

I looked up at him and held my breath for a lecture. Azriel stood in front of me and put both his hands on my shoulders.

"I've looked out for you Myriad, I see myself as your friend and you hide so much from me. Everyone has a right to keep secrets but yours are taking their toll on you. You have so much inside of you and I want to help you...but only if you'll open up to me."

I stared at Azriel, meeting his eyes. I knew he wanted to help me but I couldn't bring myself to tell him anything. As much as I liked him, as much as the mating bond pulled me to him, I could never open up to him.

"Why do you care so much?" I asked as I brushed Azriel's hands from my shoulders. "You have plenty of friends and I prefer not to have any."

I looked over my shoulder and narrowed my eyes.

"I like you Azriel, as a friend. The first friend I've had in a long time but it's better this way. Trust me."

Azriel's face got his usual unreadable expression and he shouldered his pack again.

"I trust you."

Word had been sent by Azriel's contact that the deceased meirleach's uncle was willing to room us and give us both the information we needed. We'd remain in our aliases to him, so our presence in the winter court would remain, hopefully, unnoticed.

The male lived on the border of a small mountain town, in an old lumber mill. It was dusk when we reached the mill and the male was out chopping wood when we arrived. He seemed older, tall, well built. Azriel was the first to approach him and he hiked his pack up as the male set down his axe to look at the shadowsinger.

"You must be Aaron," he said, eyeing Azriel with his pale blue eyes. "Darick said you'd arrive soon."

He looked at me and I held his eyes till he looked away.
"Who's this?"

I walked forward and stuck out my hand, smiling timidly.

"Eowan sir."

The fae took my hand and his grip was more gentle than I anticipated. The fae cast a look over me again, his nostrils flaring at my scent that I had tried to hide. He looked at Azriel and let go of my hand.

"Darick didn't say you'd bring a witch."

Azriel shrugged and eyed the axe that the fae still held.
"He told you what you needed to know, Nikolas," he said in a low voice. "We should talk inside. The less know about our visit, the better."

Nikolas scowled and gave me one last look before he kicked his axe up to let it rest on his shoulder. "Come inside, I've got dinner prepared."

We were led inside the house and were instantly met by the smell of a woodfire and freshly baked bread. My stomach growled.

Nikolas set his axe by the door and motioned for us to put up our coats. Azriel and I hung our coats up and I made the extra effort to remove my boots as well. Azriel gave me a raised eyebrow and I shrugged.

"He seems friendly," I whispered.

Azriel looked over his shoulder and bent down to remove his boots as well, though he leaned close to me.

"He smells you. You may not know it, but you do have an underlying scent that is not of ordinary fae. I don't think he likes or trusts witches very much."

"That's obvious." I shot back. "I want to know why."

Azriel met my eyes and lightly bumped my shoulder with his.

"Be patient."

I nodded and stood up, careful not to step in the fallen snow. I waited for Azriel and we both walked through the humble house to the kitchen where Nikolas already had three bowls prepared for us. He brought a stew and some bread to the table and began to serve us.

"Darick said you wanted to know about my brother's wife?" he asked. Azriel pulled out my seat and I sat down, watching as the shadowsinger did the same.

"That's why we're here."

Nikolas sat and pulled his bowl to him.

"Her name was Asta. She came to this village fifty years ago and seduced my brother into a marriage bed. He was blind to her ways, so smitten by her beauty and charm that he didn't see through the rest. Once she was with child, Brettor mysteriously died in a logging accident. Got caught in the mill they said."

Nikolas snorted and dipped a hunk of bread into is soup.

"The fool was raised in this mill, it wasn't no accident. One doesn't just get caught in the mill when they were raised to work it. She bewitched him. I know she did. After she had the child, she left. Left the boy for me to raise and went into the mountains. No one went after her, no one dared after Brettor died."

I pushed my soup around and dared a look at Nikolas.

"The boy...he...he was a meirleach?"

Nikolas gave me a burning look and he pointed a spoon at me.

"If that's a name for the monster she left with me, then yes. The boy killed two children in the school yard when he was eleven. I locked him up after that."

I felt my stomach churn and my face paled. Locked him up...no wonder the boy's power consumed him.

"We heard rumor," Azriel said. He leaned back in his seat and nodded his head to me.

"Erowan is the same as your nephew. Has the same power. Her mother was a witch as well."

Nikolas glared at me and I jutted my chin up. He snorted and looked back at Azriel and tilted his head.

"Why do you want Asta?"

"I need to ask her questions," I said smoothly. "Just tell us how to find her."

Nikolas looked at Azriel and ignored me completely.

"You're joking. Going into the mountains is suicide. They say she's holed herself up in the pass. Wolves of ice guard it and yield to her will," he said softly, as if speaking about the witch would bring her upon him.

"If she's such a source of power, then why has the highlord not done anything about it?" Azriel asked between a bite of his soup.
Nikolas snorted.

"Kallias has other things too important to worry about," he said. "After everything with...well you know."

"Amarantha," I said flatly, my eyes threatening to return to their usual russet color. Nikolas looked at me and I could see the fear in his eyes when I said the name. I pushed my soup aside and sat back.

"We're going to the pass tomorrow. We can handle ourselves."

Nikolas snorted and looked back to his bowl.

"Then you'd better eat. It's a three hour hike up the mountain."

I brought my bowl back to me and sourly began to eat. Nikolas was right. I needed to keep my strength up.

Later that night, Nikolas showed us to our room, the only one he had. Azriel and I were to do rotations every four hours to keep watch, sharing the bed between us. We both had a silent agreement that none of us trusted Nikolas to keep us a secret. We had our ways of keeping him silent if he should make any sort of alert.

The door was locked and Azriel and I both dropped our glamours. The shadowsinger was sitting on the bed sharpening his obsidian blade and I busied myself with mixing an ink I had taken from my pack. The ink started in a powder that I mixed with water from my flask. I slipped my knife from my boot and poked my thumb, letting a few drops of blood fall into the ink before my skin healed. I picked up my spoon again and began to whisk the mixture together.

"What are you doing?"

I looked up at Azriel and realized that the sound of him sharpening his blade had stopped. I held up the bowl.

"Ink, I'm mixing ink."

Azriel tilted his head and slid his knife back in its sheath.

"What's it for?"

I set the bowl down and fished out a fine brush from my pack.

"Lettering. A defense against Asta's magic, should she use it," I explained. "Witchcraft is different from our magic because they use different methods to conjure the magic. It's not a natural magic like yours or mine. So our shields may be useless against it. My mother taught me the basics of defending myself against it."

I sighed and pulled my hair up, twisting it into a knot on my head so it wouldn't get in the way. I unbuttoned my tunic and pulled it off, my skin exposed to the warm air of the room.

I dipped my brush in the ink and began to write over my arms, small runes in columns up to my elbows. The ink set into my skin immediately and remained there in a semi permanent stain until I will it to wash away. I could feel Azriel looking at me and I had a flash of embarrassment, very glad I was still roughly covered by the darkness and the band around my breasts.

"Rhys is so elaborate with his tattoos," Azriel said lowly. I looked over my shoulder, my brush hovering over my upper arm.

"Oh. The wings. Yes…"

I set the bush back on my skin, ignoring the sound of Azriel getting up from the bed.

"What does the writing say?"

Azriel sat across from me and I refused to look at him.

"Just spells. It's too complicated to explain now. Basically I'm writing a shield against witchcraft on my skin. You know, shields from anything she may throw at us."

I dipped my brush again and quickly wrote up my other arm and continued across my breast bone, over the scars that rested there.

"Who did that to you? Amarantha?"

I closed my eyes and the brush stopped in my hand. I knew what Azriel was reading. The scarred words carved across my chest and stomach.

"Someone I managed to piss off," I said and opened my eyes again. Azriel's face was dark and his shadows almost completely wreathed his features. His eyes though...Cauldron, his eyes were lit with a fury I never wanted to see on his face again.

I pressed my lips together and began to write again.

"His name was Tomas," I said after a moment of silence. "We...we were in love, a long time ago."

I licked my lips and dipped my brush, my runes that I painted over my skin coming out shaky. I set the brush down and put my hands on my knees.

"Right after I winnowed from the camp, where I first saw you, I ended up on the border of the Dawn court. I don't know how I did but...I wandered about for a time till I reached the capital city. I lived on the streets for three years. I ended up stealing from the wrong female, Casta…"

I smiled slightly at the memory of my teacher and friend.

"She was a musician, she owned a school and she picked and chose her pupils critically. I don't know what she saw in me but she ended up taking me in. That's how I met Tomas. He was one of her apprentices.

"We...I...we were going to run away together and get married. I was only twenty five then, so young. Well…I'm sure you can guess what happened, young couples and everything."

I ran my hand along the back of my neck and shook my head.

"We..the first time we were together...properly...I told him everything about who I was and what had happened to me in the illyrian camps and...and he just changed. He said I'd tricked him so he'd be sullied by a half-breed lesser fae bitch."

I scowled and shook my head.

"I left him after that, right then and there. I'd never felt more used. I lost my temper and...I found him again and threatened to kill him. Almost did too, that's when I realized what I could do. The meirleach in me woke up and I drained him a little. I don't remember much after that except when he sent some of his father's men after me. He was there too...the night they did this," I waved a hand over my scars. "He said he'd make sure no male would ever want me again. They dumped me in the Middle afterwards, hoping I'd get eaten, I think ."

I looked up at Azriel and searched his face. He was stony. It looked like he hadn't moved an inch, but I could see a muscle jump in his jaw and he unclenched his fists.

"What happened to them?"

I picked up my brush and finished painting my shields.

"It was a few years before I tracked them down again...but I killed them. Took my time. Dumped their bodies in the Middle."

Azriel let out a pent up breath and he looked away from me.

"I would have tracked them down if they still breathed."

I smiled a little and finished the last rune.

I motioned to the shadowsinger, ready to move on from the painful story.

"Your turn, Azriel."

Azriel nodded and pulled his shirt off, folding his wings neatly behind him. I tried not to stare at him too hard. His body was fit, chiseled and covered with beautiful, elaborate tattoos that swirled around his chest and down to his elbows. He was deadly in his beauty. His muscles were a weapon, a glorious weapon honed from years on the training fields, battlefields. Every breath he took was calculated. He was shadow and death, but I thought he was the most beautiful male I had seen.

I swallowed and dipped my brush again, writing as quickly as I could on Azriel's arm, over his tattoos. I wanted to get this done as fast as I could and not linger on his hot skin beneath my brush.

Azriel held his breath and none of us spoke as I worked. I think he was as uncomfortable as I was with how close we were. I moved my brush across his shoulders to his chest, over and around his heart. I wrote a few extra lines, protecting his heart...my mate's heart.

I finished in a few minutes and sat back. I could feel my face heat as I dipped my brush again.

"She'll go for your wings," I said curtly. "I can keep mine hidden but yours are vulnerable. May I…"

Azriel nodded and turned around, unfolding his wings for me. My brush quivered in my hand and I stared at those great wings, my heart pounding in my chest.

"This may...be sensitive."

"It's alright."

I lowered my brush down and slowly began to write the protection spells across Azriel's wings, being careful not to mess up a word. I could feel Azriel tense and he sat up straighter and sucked in a breath.

"I'm sorry," I said hurriedly. I almost dropped the brush. "Just hold still."

I swallowed again and continued to run the brush over Azriel's wings, sealing in the ink as I worked. My brush strokes became soft as my hand grew confidence and I ignored Azriel completely, absorbed in my work.

The flow of my ink was smooth, almost sensuous. The ink moved across Azriel's wings like the finest of paper, setting in solid lines till I dragged the brush to the tip of his wings, to where the bones met in an arch above his head and I was finished.

I moved my brush back and sat back, releasing a shaky breath. I reached out a finger and slowly ran it down the center of Azriel's right wing, feeling the velvet soft skin under my hand. I marveled at my handiwork, the spells I'd written were perfect on his wings. For a moment I forgot what I was touching and how it affected an Illyrian Male.

Azriel groaned quietly and I moved my hand back, suddenly appalled at what I had done. It was stupid of me to touch his wing any more than I had to and I had the apologies on my lips in an instant.

Azriel turned his entire body in one fluid motion and he met my eyes. I didn't look away, for the first time I didn't drop my gaze from his. Some part of me wanted to touch him again, and hear the groan he'd let slip free again.

"Myriad…"

He stopped himself and I felt his hand go to my face. I was very still, yet I didn't-couldn't tear my gaze from his. I didn't want him to look at me like that. Please no. It was hard enough...

Azriel's fingers brushed my ear, becoming tangled in whatever curls had escaped my bun. His hand felt like a fire on my cheek and I finally lowered my gaze, willing my heart to remain in my chest instead of threatening to beat out of me.

"Myriad," Azriel's voice was a whisper and I parted my lips to answer...only to feel the shadowsinger's lips suddenly on mine.

Everything stopped. Every sound, every denial, every wall I had built to keep something like this from happening came crashing down. My body sang for more, I almost responded to the kiss, almost put my entire body to Azriel's. The mating bond that I only felt, that I kept hidden, sang for Azriel.

Azriel was gentle, the kiss barely a brush against my lips before he began to pull away again. I gasped in air and blinked, able to breath again, and with that breath, my senses came rushing back in a flood of anger. Stupid!

I scrambled to my feet in an instant, reaching for my tunic. Where had that come from?!

I felt a hand on my arm and without thinking, I grabbed Azriel's wrist and elbow and twisted his arm off of me, doing exactly what Cassian had been trying to get me to do for days. I stared up into Azriel's face, my breath coming in short gasps. I hadn't realized he stood, was standing behind me, his own breath as ragged as mine.

"How dare you?!" I hissed in his face. "I told you I was your friend, and you...you take advantage of...of that?"

I saw shame in Azriel's eyes and he lowered his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he began before I cut him off with a slap to his face. I think if he wanted, he could have blocked my blow. I wouldn't let him speak. I couldn't let him speak because I didn't know what I'd say.

I bundled my tunic to my chest and willed myself not to lose my temper any more than I already had. I didn't let Azriel finish before I swung my pack on my back and left the room, slamming the door behind me.

I put my shirt back on as I went down the stairs and I grabbed my coat and boots, stopping only to slide my boots on before I headed out to the mill. I'd sleep there that night.

The mill was warm, thanks to the mule that lived in the stall next to the empty one I threw myself in. The hay was fresh and soft, enough of a bed.

I should have seen it coming. I should have stopped it, nipped it in the bud but...I wanted it. Azriel's shame had been enough to break my heart and I knew he truly was sorry for what he'd done. I didn't have enough sense to stop him either. When he kissed me...all I felt was the bond, connecting me to him. For a moment it felt like our heartbeats were one.

He was gentle.

He wanted nothing more from the kiss.

That's why I began to cry. I realized, as I burrowed into the hay, that Azriel had been so gentle with that kiss. He hadn't pushed his body against mine, hadn't moved his hand to places on my body.

I'd never been kissed that way before. Not even by Tomas. Azriel's kiss was as cool as his shadows. His kiss was a comfort.

And I didn't deserve that.

I didn't deserve Azriel in any way.

I rolled over and pulled my coat hood over my head, rubbing at the tears that ran down my nose.

I wanted to love Azriel, every fiber of my body screamed to love him. He was that missing piece of my soul...but I knew it could never be. Distancing myself was the only thing I could do to keep myself safe. To keep my gods-damned self safe from anything else being taken from me. If Hybern…

I shut the thought from my mind. No.

Azriel was better off without me anyway. I had nothing to offer him. Not like Mor, who dazzled in front of him. I bared my teeth in a snarl and pulled my coat close. I wiped my eyes again and rolled over in the hay.

In the morning. I'd deal with it in the morning.