When Azriel woke the next morning, his panic had shifted into calm rage. He shoved his fears aside and crawled out of bed, careful not to disturb Seren. She'd been awake all night and had only fallen asleep a few hours ago.

Azriel pulled on his leathers, now free of dust. Truth-Teller was a comforting weight against his thigh. He situated the siphons on his hands, then paused. He stared at his scars, a mixture of fear and hatred coursing through him.

They don't mar you. They don't taint you, Seren said. He looked over his shoulder and saw her sitting up. She held up her own hands. Azriel crossed the room and splayed his fingers against hers. Seren watched him silently.

Azriel swallowed, eyeing their hands. His was much bigger than hers, and yet, they matched. From their scars to the water droplet tattoo. They don't taint me, Azriel echoed. Just like yours do not taint you. He brushed his thumb over the scar on her cheek.

Seren smiled, then swung her legs off the bed and brought her head down between her knees. She drew in several deep breaths. "I thought babies liked food," she rasped. "So why is it that ours wants to get rid of everything I eat?"

Azriel beamed and rubbed her back soothingly. "I hear it's that way for a lot of mothers." His gaze dipped to her stomach. "Do you really think it's a baby?"

Seren cast him a dumbfounded look. "What else could it be? It might not be professionally confirmed yet, but I think..." She groaned and lowered her head again. "I'm so tired of being nauseous."

He wasn't sure what to say, so he remained quiet. A baby, he thought. We aren't trying to have a baby anymore. We are having one. Azriel closed his eyes, the thought enticing more joy and excitement than he would have thought possible. His joy dimmed under a dark thought. My mate is pregnant and my half brothers are here.

If he knew Osiris and Seker...if he knew Erebus, then he knew they would be quick to act on that information as soon as they found out. And we started trying, he counted mentally, four, maybe five, months ago? Depending on when she became pregnant, she must be at least three months along. Her scent will change soon.

"Azriel," Seren called, drawing him out of his thoughts. "Feyre said she and Rhys are staying here for another week, if not more. Feyre might leave sooner for Nyx, but I don't know."

"I can't convince you to stay in the hut until they leave?" He tried.

Seren smiled, but shook her head. "The females know and trust me. As long as I'm able, I'm going to try to help them."

Azriel sighed. "Then we'll just have to be careful. Try to stay out of Erebus' path. Kallon's and my half brothers' too."

"I will." He kissed her forehead and stood. "Where are you going?"

"To talk to Erebus. I want to know why he brought Osiris and Seker here." Azriel let a cold mask slide over his features.

Seren touched the shadow on her arm and it wrapped around her finger. "So you're the Spymaster today."

"I'm the Spymaster every day. It's who I have to be." He returned to her and knelt down. "But that's not all that I am."

"No, it's not," Seren agreed. "You're Rhys and Cassian's brother."

"Feyre, Amren, Mor, Nesta, and Elain's as well," he added with a small laugh.

"And Lucien's, I suppose."

"I'm Nyx's uncle. I am my mother's son."

Seren rested her forehead against his. "You are my mate."

"And I am our baby's father." Azriel kissed her softly, then stood. "And even when I'm the Spymaster...even when I'm the Angel of Death, I remember that I am all of those things besides."

"I remember too. I know the male beneath the mask."

"But luckily, our enemies don't. I'll get answers from Erebus today. One way, or another." Azriel left the room and found Rhys near the door.

Rhys looked him over. "Spying or interrogating?"

"Both. Beginning with interrogating."

"Let's go."

Azriel smiled as Rhys fell in step with him. Erebus, despite all of his bravado, would buckle beneath the two of them. He always did. He always would. Someday, he would buckle beneath them in death. Azriel allowed the Spymaster's mask to resurface. He saw no sign of Osiris and Seker. When they reached Erebus' hut, the Spymaster was prepared to go to work.

•༻☾☽༺•

Seren rose shortly after Azriel left and was slow to put on her leathers. Fatigue and nausea weighed heavily upon her. She finally managed to clasp the buckles, then sheathed Elysian and Metanoia. Feyre and Amren were awake when she left the bedroom.

"You mentioned you had an idea for us to try with the females," Feyre said. "What was it?"

"I thought about what Amren told Cassian," Seren began. "About how we need to accept challenges and prove that they can be won. If males are refusing to let the females come to training, we need to bring training to them." Feyre gave her a thoughtful look and gestured for her to continue. "We can split up into pairs of two. We'll start traveling to each hut and speak with the females inside. We'll ask to train with them for at least an hour. If they say no, we don't push it, but promise to return tomorrow."

"And if the males challenge us?" Amren asked.

"We meet their challenge and win."

Amren rubbed her chin. "Ambitious and clever, but also dangerous."

"Everything we do in this camp is dangerous."

"How are we going to pair off?" Feyre asked. "Amren and I, then you and Jorah?"

Seren nodded. "Let's try that for today." Amren inclined her head. I need to talk to Jorah anyway.

"But tomorrow," Amren said, "I'll go with Seren." Feyre and Seren stared at her in surprise. Amren offered no explanation. She began picking at her nails, ignoring their expressions.

"Let's go find Jorah, then," Feyre said at last. The three of them left the hut.

Ironcrest was already bustling with activity. Seren stuck close to Feyre and Amren as they wound through the huts. Jorah's hut was near Erebus'. Seren hoped they wouldn't see Erebus, Kallon, or Azriel's half brothers while retrieving her.

Amren took the lead and Feyre fell in step with Seren. "Amren wants to work with you. That must mean something good."

"Or something bad," Seren sighed. "I hope it means she's starting to warm up to me, though."

Feyre smiled and rested a hand on her shoulder. Her smile shifted into a frown. "Rhys and Azriel left this morning. I'm not sure where they went."

"Azriel told me he was going to question Erebus. Rhys probably went with him. What's Cassian doing?"

"He's keeping an eye on Kallon today." Jorah's hut was a few yards away. "He told me about Jorah's bruises. He's furious and worried."

"So am I."

They reached Jorah's hut and Seren knocked on the door. A tall Illyrian male answered it. "Yes?" His features were hard, and his voice had a stern tone.

"Is Jorah here? I'm Seren Marzena, her friend."

The male narrowed his eyes. "I'm her father, Lycaon. Jorah is here but she's not supposed to go anywhere today."

"She helps us with training, as I'm sure you know," Seren explained. "We need her help."

"Like I said, she's not supposed to go anywhere." Lycaon crossed his arms. His brown eyes glittered coldly.

Feyre stepped in front of Seren. "And why not?"

"She has duties here to attend to."

Feyre's gray blue eyes roamed over the Illyrian. "I see a male perfectly capable of completing household duties. I'm sure she won't be missed."

"Who are you, exactly?" Lycaon spat.

"Feyre Archeron. High Lady of the Night Court."

Lycaon straightened at once. "My lady."

"Kindly retrieve your daughter." He dipped his head and backed into the hut. "I'm surprised he yielded," Feyre said.

"Jorah mentioned her father is one of the only males in this camp who respects Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel," Seren replied.

"And apparently, he respects you," Amren added.

The door opened again shortly and Jorah stepped outside. Lycaon gave her a warning stare, then shut the door. Jorah combed her fingers through matted brown hair. She braided it swiftly. Her arms were covered by wraps again and she wore a shirt with a tall collar.

"What happened to you?" Amren asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Jorah muttered. "What are we doing?"

"We're splitting up and working with the females one on one," Seren explained. "You and I are a team today."

"All right."

"Be careful," Feyre called as they turned down another street.

Jorah was limping slightly. Seren itched to question her, but restrained herself. They reached the first hut. Seren knocked on the door and a female answered.

"Hi, Inge," Jorah said.

"I can't come to training." Inge began to close the door.

"We can train with you here for an hour," Seren called.

Inge paused and bit her lip. She held the door open. "Hurry. My husband will be home in forty five minutes. We can train until then." Her eyes took on a brighter sheen as she led them into a wide room.

Seren ran her through a few short warm up stretches. Jorah began to demonstrate several new punches that Inge hadn't learned yet. Inge was quick to copy the movements. Her form was strong and needed little correction. By the time their lesson ended, Inge was smiling.

"We'll be back tomorrow," Seren promised. "Practice whenever you can."

Jorah took Inge's hand in her own. "Keep your head up. Don't look down."

"You'll miss the sights of the world," Inge finished. "Never again."

"Never again."

Seren smiled as she and Jorah left the hut. Apparently, her words were becoming a source of strength to the females. She was glad. Their next few lessons went about the same. Only twice were they turned away. Seren's mood began to lighten as they made more progress. The females still wanted to learn. They were just afraid to leave their homes to do it.

They turned down another lane and walked on. Wings flapped behind them. Seren turned, expecting to find Rhys, Cassian, or Azriel. Instead, two unfamiliar males met her gaze. They each wore two amber siphons. Their eyes were gold and they had short dark hair.

One of them inhaled, drinking in her scent. "We found you."

"We told him we would," the second said.

Jorah grabbed Seren's arm and pulled her back. "Oh, come now." The first cocked his head in amusement. "Can't we meet our sister?"

Sister? Seren wondered. Realization dawned on her. "Osiris and Seker," she growled.

"In the flesh." Osiris sketched a bow and took her hand. Seren jerked away.

"I see our little brother found himself a mate lacking in manners," Seker scoffed.

"Let's go." Seren spun on her heel and began walking away. Jorah kept a tight hold on her arm. Azriel's shadows coiled atop Seren's shoulders.

Osiris flew alongside them, a lazy smile on his face. He looked more like Azriel than Seker, Seren noted. "Erebus praised your beauty, but he never mentioned all of your scars. Who gave them to you?" Seren didn't answer.

Seker was flying beside Jorah. "Her hands are so like Azriel's. It must be easy for him to think of you on nights when he's alone."

"I imagine so. Do thoughts of him keep you occupied on those nights?" Osiris chuckled. "If you ever need company, you need only ask."

"The only male company I prefer is my mate's," Seren snapped.

"A pity. I'd love to teach you how a real Illyrian warrior plays."

"We can take turns," Seker added.

Seren lifted her chin and glared at Osiris. "I've heard that Illyrian wings speak volumes about a male. If wingspan tells me size, I think siphons tell me performance. Two siphons doesn't speak highly of you. Neither does your unimpressive wingspan."

Osiris' grin turned feral. "Let's test your performance theory, shall we?"

He lunged at her. Seren ducked and dragged Jorah down. Osiris crashed in Seker. Wind roared in Seren's ears as she winnowed herself and Jorah away from the two males. They arrived at the hut unscathed. Seren pulled Jorah inside and slammed the door shut, then locked it.