Chapter Text
Gwyn was exhausted. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a full night of sleep. Probably before Sangravah. But this time, her dreams weren’t haunted by the men from the cruel night. It was dreams of a dark haired, hazel eyed, scarred handed Shadowsinger.
Since their trainings at night and the Blood Rite, he had been plaguing her sleep. It started out of just being flashes of his eyes, then his beautiful hands, and then to his glorious golden-brown chest. She didn’t know what to make of these dreams but as they became more intense she stopped going to their trainings, not being able to face him without anyone else in the training ring. The only times she had seen him in the past month had been in the Valkyrie trainings alongside Nesta, Emerie, and the other priestesses that dared to leave the library to the ring. As soon as those trainings would end, she would see the Shadowsinger nearing her and she made her way down to the library as quickly as her long legs would take her.
One day, Nesta had found her finishing up work with Merrill and told her that the Shadowsinger was looking for her. Gwyn had tried her best not to turn red but with her alabaster skin, Nesta caught it immediately but didn’t it question it.
She got changed into the leathers Emerie had made for her and her chosen sisters and headed towards the training pit on the roof of the House of Wind. Despite staying away from the pit in the middle of the night for the past month, tonight’s dream had been the most intense to date.
The Shadowsinger had been in her room, his golden chest shirtless, his large wings looming behind him with his shadows, and with his signature grin. Dream Gwyn had been on lying her bed — reading some horrifically bad smut that Nesta had given her as a laugh — and Dream Shadowsinger had walked up to her and leaned over. He had caged her with his arms on either side of her head and had whispered the most filthiest things in her ear before pressing his lips to hers… She had to willed herself to wake up at that point, all hot and heated.
He was the first male that she thought about in that context. She didn’t know whether to feel disgusted with herself to be thinking about a male like that so soon after Sangravah or to be proud of herself that she felt ready to start feeling what real pleasure and love was.
She shouldn’t have been shocked to find him in the ring. He normally was. But being alone with the Shadowsinger after avoiding him for a month made her stomach flutter with nerves. How was she supposed to talk to him after what she had been dreaming about?
He immediately stopped his exercise, turning his head toward her in the doorframe. His damned shadows most likely alerted him of her. Those same shadows darted to her, twirling themselves in her hair and arms, and she couldn’t hold back the soft smile that overtook her face.
“I’m sorry,” his soft, cold voice called out throughout the otherwise silent ring. He gestured towards the shadows on her arms.
“They don’t bother me. I like them.,” she told him and he looked at her with a deep intensity that she suddenly found the floor interesting. She hadn’t met his eyes once since she had entered the roof. Azriel only nodded and returned to what he had been doing before she had walked in. She made her way to warm up and was soon throwing daggers at a straw dummy. Even though they were both doing their own things, there was an awkward, tense silence between them.
“Did I do something?” His hesitant voice made her realize that he had stopped training and now stood a few feet away from her. She didn’t turn back to him, afraid of what reaction his face would pull out of her. She shook her head but didn’t trust herself to open up her mouth. “Then why you stop coming to our sessions?”
‘I’ve been busy,” she lied, the dagger in her hand grew heavy.
“My shadows tell me you lie,” he drily told her. Traitors , she thought and the shadows on her arms tightened slightly. He sounded closer this time, “It’s not like you to lie, priestess.” She suppressed the shudder that threatened to go through her.
“I needed a break,” not necessarily a lie, an omitted truth. She felt him take another step closer, his front almost touching her back.
“I’ve missed you,” he admitted and Gwyn held her breath, his scent overwhelmed her but an annoying tug inside her ribs ached for him to come even closer.
“You did?” She swallowed.
“I had no one else to joke with,” she could practically see his lips twitching, him hiding his beautiful smiles.
“I missed you too,” she confessed and her shoulders slumped slightly as if she had taken somewhat of a weight off her shoulders. She had missed him, the Shadowsinger had become a really important part of her life and routine and when she had stopped seeing him, the hole that filled up with him had started to break up and became bigger inside her. Just him being behind her made the gap inside her close slowly.
He walked around her and used two fingers to lifted up her head. She let herself meet his hazel eyes. Let herself see the rest of his face. The elegant planes of his face seemed unusually sunken and his eyes weren’t as bright as she remembered. “Why did you stop coming, Berdara?”
His fingers held strong, not letting her bring her head down or look anywhere else besides him. “I-I needed to clear my mind and,” she couldn’t help the blush that overtook her, “my sleeping habits had worsened.” The tug came stronger and she stumbled forward.
Azriel held her strong, one of his gloved hands grabbing her by the shoulder. He looked at her with an emotion she did not quite know. The leather of his glove teased the skin of her face as he cupped her face with one hand. Their bodies were now touching, front to front and the tugging was becoming unbearable.
“Next time, don’t randomly stop coming without a letter or word.” She doesn’t think she has ever seen him this vulnerable.
“Worried for me, Shadowsinger?” She teased. Their heads getting closer.
“Always priestess. Always.” Without no more words, he pressed his lips to Gwyn’s. His lips were softer than she had dreamed, slowly moving. Gwyn moved her lips in time with him and they molded perfectly together
He pulled away, their brows connecting, and when she opened her eyes a bright light flashed in her eyes, she felt another heart beat in tune with her. She felt and saw a gold string connecting her with the Shadowsinger. Her center revolves around him. He was hers and she was his. He was the beginning, middle, and end. And by the look on his face, the bond hadn’t snapped for him.
All of sudden, the dreams that she had been having had made sense. They were a sign. Showing her who her other half was.
Her mate .
She had a mate. Mate. Mate.
She stepped away from his arms and her heart thrashed at the hurt expression on the Shadowsinger’s face. He quickly turned it into a mirror of cold, a defense.
She wasn’t ready for mate nor was she deserving of one. He deserved more than the leftover broken pieces she was. He deserved someone could accept the bond right away.
She wasn’t ready for what came with having a mate. The frenzy that was made on the premise of the male trying to impregnate the female. The frenzy that caused pure, raw fucking. She was terrified of that the most. Being so intimate with someone, so vulnerable.
Sensing where her emotions had gone, he took down the look of cold and stepped towards her. She took a step back.
“Gwyn—shit.” He cursed. “I should have asked before I leaned in.” He thought it was his fault and her heart ached to be in his embrace again. He made his way to her again but she backed up again. His presence was becoming to much. Every one of her senses narrowed to him.
“It’s not that. That was fine.” She would have to tell him. She wouldn’t be able to keep it from him. It would be better, she thought, he would be able to reject her and find someone he truly deserved.
“You’re my mate,” she opened her mouth to say but the words don’t come out. She let a few tears fall down her face. Before he asked anymore questions, she ran down the stairs and into the library. She felt him, after a few moments, follow her down.
She ran to her dormitory and locked the door behind despite knowing that he could not enter this part of the sanctuary.
She felt the tug underneath her ribs but she pushed it down, ignored it.
She slid down the door and curled her knees up. She cried into her arms, that where resting on her knees.
She cried for the night three years ago. She cried for her sister that been brutally taken away from her. She cried for the Shadowsinger, who got stuck with her as a mate.
That night, her exhaustion made her pass out where she sat at the door and she dreamed of what life with him would have been like if she was not ruined.