Chapter 26 - Mother Knows Best
Chapter 26 – Mother Knows Best
-Gwyn-
Though exhaustion tugged at her both physically and mentally, Gwyn was relieved she hadn’t talked herself out of attending dinner with Azriel’s mother. Her cheeks ached from hours of smiling and laughing, the warmth of the evening wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.
She knew that Azriel’s time with his mother as a child had been painfully scarce—limited to just a few hours each week. At eleven, he had been taken by his father to Windhaven to begin his warrior training, so even those fleeting visits they’d had were gone. It was clear, however, that once he was able to bring his mother here, he’d made it a priority to visit often, trying to reclaim the time they’d both lost.
Lilah had regaled Gwyn with stories of Azriel, Rhys, and Cassian’s childhood mischief, her knowledge pieced together through the updates she received from Rhysand’s mother, whom Lilah had known.
“I swear, after that, I thought for sure Amerie was going to make him sleep outside!” Lilah laughed, her voice bright and infectious. Gwyn giggled as Lilah handed her another plate to dry, the mirth shared between them.
The sharp sound of boots on the hardwood floor drew Gwyn’s attention, signaling Azriel’s return. The footsteps grew louder until they stopped abruptly, and when she glanced over her shoulder, she found him standing there, frozen in the entryway. His wide eyes and slackened jaw painted a picture of shock.
Gwyn turned fully to face him, confusion knitting her brows together. She dried her hands on the towel, her mind working. Why was he staring at her like that? Lilah wasn’t telling an embarrassing story—at least, not at the moment. But the look on his face was as if she had.
“Azriel?” she ventured, her voice tinged with concern. The worry in her tone caused Lilah to turn and look at her son as well.
He remained rooted to the spot, his posture rigid and his expression still etched in alarm. Gwyn cast a questioning glance at Lilah, who returned her gaze, her own features tight with concern.
Gwyn’s heart quickened as she turned her attention back to him. “Azriel, what is it?” she asked, her voice more insistent now, the unease in her chest growing.
He started to speak, though his voice was so faint it barely reached her ears, the words garbled and unclear. Concern tightening in her chest, Gwyn took a cautious step closer. “Azriel, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, her tone laced with worry.
“You… you’re…” he stammered, his brow furrowing as he struggled to speak. “It’s… we…”
“…should be heading home!” Lilah interjected brightly, cutting through the awkwardness. She stepped forward, holding out a hand for Gwyn to pass her the towel. “Oh, I didn’t realize how late it was getting. Seems like my son is pretty exhausted—he can’t even string a sentence together.”
Azriel’s mouth snapped shut at that, his audible swallow breaking the tense silence. He finally blinked, his voice hesitant as he glanced at his mother. “Y-yes, I didn’t realize how late it was,” he admitted. Then, his attention shifted to Gwyn, his gaze still holding traces of unease. “I, uh, know there’s some things you and I need to talk over still,” he said haltingly. “And we should head out so we have time to, um, you know… do that.”
Gwyn glanced out the window, noting that the sun was already a quarter dipped below the horizon. Time had gotten away from her, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that Azriel’s unusual behavior wasn’t solely about the hour. Something else seemed to be bothering him, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.
She wondered briefly if Rhysand had reached out to him using his daemati gift, perhaps checking in, or gave some unsettling update on the whole Roderick situation.
Turning back to Lilah, Gwyn tried to focus on the moment. She smiled warmly, noting the slight tension that had crept into Lilah’s posture since they had finished the dishes. “I really enjoyed meeting you, Lilah,” Gwyn said sincerely. “I hope I’ll get to see you again.”
The sparkle returned to Lilah’s eyes as she reached for Gwyn’s hands, pulling her into a tight embrace. “My dear, I think we are destined to see one another again,” Lilah said with a chuckle, her hands gently rubbing Gwyn’s back. “I think even the Mother herself knows we had too much fun together to keep us apart.”
Gwyn grinned, feeling the warmth in Lilah’s words. “I believe she does.”
“Gwyn?” came Azriel’s raspy voice from behind her as she stepped out of Lilah’s arms. She turned to face him, noting that while he still seemed off, he didn’t look as shaken as he had moments before.
“I’m just going to say goodbye to my mother,” Azriel said, his voice steadier now. “I’ll… I’ll meet you outside.”
She nodded, sensing his need for a few private moments with Lilah. As she passed him on her way to the door, her gaze caught on his tightly tucked wings, and she tried to remember if they had been this tense when he’d first walked in. She tried to meet his eyes, but his focus seemed locked ahead, avoiding her gaze entirely.
Attempting to brush aside her unease, Gwyn continued toward the front door. Her hand reached for the knob, but she paused at the sound of Azriel’s voice calling her name again. “Gwyn?”
She turned back, her gaze falling on his face as one corner of his mouth curled into a half-smile—strained, but there nonetheless. “Just a few minutes, alright?” he said, his tone softer this time.
She nodded, her own smile tight, before turning to step outside into the cooling air.
-Azriel-
Fuck. I definitely made that weird. She knows something is going on.
OUR PRIESTESS IS VERY ASTUTE, YES; THOUGH, ANYONE WITH EYES AND EARS COULD TELL THAT WAS A STRANGE INTERACTION.
“Son?”
Azriel turned to find his mother’s worried gaze fixed on him, her thumbnail caught between her front teeth in an uncharacteristic show of unease.
“Miersei…” he rasped, using the Old Illyrian title.
“You’re sure?” she asked quietly, responding in kind. It was probably better that way—just in case Gwyn came back inside and inadvertently overheard their conversation.
Wait…does my mother…?
SHE IS ALSO PERCEPTIVE. IT’S A SHAME YOU ARE SO OBTUSE.
“Do you…how could you…” he stammered, his voice thick. “But, wait, do you?”
“You’re old, Azriel, but I’m far older,” she scoffed lightly, though the worry in her tone remained. “I’ve seen a bond snap between mates once or twice in my lifetime. Hel, I was there the day it snapped for Rhysand’s parents.”
Azriel’s legs felt weak. He needed to sit down, but he knew that if he did, he might not be able to get up again. And if he couldn’t get up, Gwyn would likely come back inside, wondering where the Hel he was and find him looking... well, however he looked right now. He wasn’t sure how he looked, but he was certain it wasn’t good—not when it felt like his world had just tilted on its axis.
“However,” his mother continued, her tone steadying as though to anchor him, “it doesn’t appear to have snapped for Gwyn yet.”
“Yeah, got that,” he muttered, dragging his hands through his hair, pacing the room to burn off some of the restless energy buzzing under his skin.
“Are you… not happy that it’s her?” she asked hesitantly, her voice soft, almost cautious.
Azriel stopped dead in his tracks, his head snapping toward her. “Of course I am! I’m in love with her!” The confession burst from his lips before he could stop it, and he didn’t even have the bandwidth to process the weight of those words in front of his mother.
His mother exhaled a long, audible sigh of relief. “Well, then, why are you acting like this?”
“Because I just found out I have a fucking mate!” he snapped, his voice rising as he threw his arms in the air. “And I’m just in a little bit of shock right now!”
CALM YOURSELF, SHADOWSINGER. YOUR MOTHER IS TRYING TO HELP.
Of course, he knew that. But knowing didn’t stop the ache in his chest or the way his lungs refused to draw enough air.
Centuries—he had spent centuries believing he was destined to walk through this world alone. To never settle down, to never marry. To endure fleeting romances rooted only in physical need, relationships devoid of true connection. To never have children of his own, his role as "Uncle Az" to his family’s little ones being his only consolation.
He’d resigned himself to a future defined by solitude, where his days were spent as nothing more than a weapon, a shadowed tool wielded by the Night Court against its enemies.
But now? Now, he had a mate. A mate.
The word echoed in his mind, surreal and overwhelming. He had long accepted that he would never receive such a blessing—that the Mother, in her wisdom, would not grant him something so rare, so sacred.
“Son,” his mother said, her voice soft but steady, “I know you weren’t expecting this, but what a blessing it is. Not everyone gets a mate, and those that do, rarely have one that they love. They can only hope to develop affections after the bond snaps. Otherwise, they suffer in silence—or reject the bond all together.”
His shoulders sagged slightly as he released a shaky breath. “I know,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. “It’s just… Gods, there’s so much she and I need to talk about as it is, and now this… how—how do I tell her?” He paused, his brow furrowing. “Should I tell her before it snaps for her? What if it takes years... centuries for it to snap for her?”
“I don’t believe the Mother would make her wait that long to realize the bond.” His mother’s hazel eyes softened further. “You said you love her, Azriel,” she murmured. “Would you spend eternity with her, even without a bond?”
There was no hesitation. “Yes.”
“And would she, with you?”
His lips parted as though to answer, but the words didn’t come immediately. He considered it carefully before replying, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “I... I don’t know. I haven’t… we haven’t…” He sighed and let himself sink into the armchair in the front room. “She doesn’t know that I love her.”
“You haven’t told her?” she asked. At the shake of his head, she went on, “Well, my point is this: It doesn’t matter how long it takes for the bond to snap for her—not if you meant what you said about being in love with her and spending the rest of your days with her even if there was no bond.” She gave a little shrug. “You should probably tell her that you’re in love with her, though.”
“But…I don’t even know if she loves me.”
His mother’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “I think she does. Even if she hasn’t admitted it to herself yet, I think she’s in love with you.”
Azriel’s gaze shifted to the window, his sharp hazel eyes landing on Gwyn standing outside. She was gazing over the meadow, the colors of dusk painting her fiery hair and creamy skin in hues so soft and radiant it made his chest ache.
“You’d better go,” his mother urged gently, her words coaxing him back to the moment. “Can you pull yourself together enough to take her home?”
He inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. “I don’t... I don’t know.”
His mother was in front of him then, her hands rising to cradle his face. “Son,” she said softly, pulling his gaze to meet hers. The hazel eyes they shared were gentle, brimming with understanding. “Listen to me. I know you. You’ve spent so much of your life hiding in the shadows, keeping your guard up, convincing yourself that love and happiness are things meant for everyone else—but not for you.”
Azriel opened his mouth to object, but the look in her eyes silenced him. “I know your life has been filled with pain and loss,” she continued, her thumbs brushing lightly over his cheekbones. “And I know you still wrestle with demons, ones that tell you lies about your worth. But, my son, those lies couldn’t be further from the truth.” A knowing smile graced her mouth. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you, Azriel. Gwyn isn’t just kind to you—she sees you. Do you have any idea how extraordinary that is? She sees beyond the stoic front you put on, beyond the scars you think define you. And yet, she doesn’t flinch—she is drawn to it. To all of you.”
Azriel looked away, his jaw tight, but his mother wasn’t finished. “And it’s not just her looks,” she continued. “It’s her actions. The way she listens to you, the way she laughs with you. The way she leans in just a little when you speak, as though every word you say is worth hearing. That female loves you, even if she isn’t aware of it yet.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, but he still didn’t meet her eyes. She sighed, her voice softening even more. “I can’t tell you if or when you should tell her about the bond—that’s something only you can decide. What I do know is that you’re afraid to believe that someone could really love you for who you are—and it’s time for you to let that fear go. Because she does.” Then, with a firm pat on his cheek and a wink, she said, “Now, get your shit together, Azriel, and take your mate home.”
There was that word again—the one he could have never dreamed would have a Godsdamn thing to do with him.
Mate.
YES, SHADOWSINGER. LET’S GO GET OUR MATE.
-Gwyn-
She turned at the sound of the front door opening, her gaze landing on Azriel as he walked toward her. He looked more like himself now, though a subtle weight still lingered in his shoulders. She offered him a warm smile, hoping to ease some of the tension. It worked—his lips curved into an impish, blushing smile in return.
“The sunset is so beautiful,” she said, turning her attention back to the horizon.
“The most beautiful thing in existence.” His tone was soft, almost reverent, and it made her glance back at him. His gaze wasn’t on the sunset but on her, his golden eyes filled with something that made her cheeks flush with warmth.
Clearing his throat, he stepped closer, stopping just within reach. He gently took her hand in his, his scarred thumb brushing over her knuckles in a tender, grounding motion. Then, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. His eyes fluttered shut as he released a soft sigh, as though her presence alone was enough to steady him, to make everything right in his world.
“Are you sure everything is alright?” she asked cautiously, her voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes opened, locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. The golden irises were filled with affection, the kind that left no room for doubt. A soft breeze stirred the air, ruffling his dark hair as he cupped her cheek with his free hand. “Everything is alright, Gwyn,” he murmured. “I’m just anxious to get us home.”
She nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. “I’m ready if you are, Shadowsinger.”
His smile in response was breathtaking, a rare and beautiful sight that made her heart stutter. “Would you like to fly, or shadow-walk?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.
She grinned, her hand rising to cover the one he held against her cheek. “You’ve never taken me flying,” she teased gently. “I’d like to go sometime, but I know how tired you must be. Let’s shadow-walk.” She leaned in, her lips hovering just a breath away from his. “This time,” she whispered.
And then, she pressed her lips to his, the kiss igniting a cascade of sparks that raced through her chest, warming her from the inside out. Only one word echoed in her mind, clear and undeniable.
Love.
Her heart swelled with the realization, as natural and inevitable as the setting sun.
I’m in love with Azriel.