The artwork above is not mine.

•༻☾☽༺•

Seren stood before a mirror, examining herself in one of her new outfits. True to her word, Mor had taken Seren out shopping. They'd returned with several new clothes that fit comfortably and showed off the growing curve of her stomach, which was becoming more prominent with each passing day. Seren tilted her head and smiled. The baby was certainly making itself noticeable now.

I'm glad we left Ironcrest when we did, she thought. Even though Erebus, Kallon, Osiris, and Seker found out anyway. At least I wasn't anywhere they could have hurt me.

The bedroom door creaked open, revealing Mor. She entered and sprawled across the bed, propping her chin up in her hands. "I knew those clothes would look stunning on you," she said.

"Thanks." Seren adjusted the cuffs on her sleeves momentarily. "You are the expert when it comes to clothes."

"I know." Mor rolled onto her back and let her head hang over the side of the bed. "Emerie has yet to let me dress her. I want to find us matching maroon outfits. I think that color would look stunning with Emerie's complexion."

"It would," Seren agreed. "Did you ever talk to her about becoming official? And about your suspicions?"

Mor sighed and shook her head. "No, I haven't. I thought about it and a few times, I almost did, but..." she grew quiet.

"But?" Seren prompted.

"But I'm worried. This isn't an easy thing. I've kept this secret for so long and..." Mor sat and rubbed her hands over her face. "What will they all think of me? I can't lose my family. What if they don't support us?"

Seren sat down and wrapped an arm around Mor's shoulders. "Mor, we're your family. We'll always love and support you, regardless of who you're attracted to." She paused, thinking for a moment. "Unless it's someone like Tamlin, Amarantha, Ianthe, or even Eris."

Mor laughed weakly. "And you've only really met one of the four."

"But I've heard the stories." Seren smiled and Mor returned it. "It's your secret to tell or not tell. You know that Feyre and I support you. I'm sure the others will too. And you know that Emerie will always be there for you."

"I know." Mor bit her lip, then let out an exasperated sigh. "Why is this so hard? Why can't I just talk to Emerie about it and have us decide together? Every time I try to bring it up, I'm at a loss for words and I can't speak."

"Do you know why you feel that way?" Seren asked.

"I guess....I guess I'm afraid that Emerie doesn't feel as deeply for me as I do for her. I'm afraid that I might not be what she wants. I'm scared that if I bring up being mates and we actually are, she might reject me."

"If watching the two of you has shown me anything, it's shown me that Emerie loves you just as much as you love her. I think she'd be overjoyed if you were mates."

"Do you think she's told Gwyn and Nesta about us?"

Seren shrugged. "I don't know, but they've been around you enough to start to suspect something." Mor was balling her hands into fists atop the bedcovers. Seren covered Mor's hand with her own and squeezed gently. "Talk to Emerie about it," she urged. "Make your decision together. It will be much easier than debating it by yourself."

"I can't," Mor said again.

"You can. Take her somewhere special, just the two of you. Go by yourselves. Stay there and talk things over and work something out."

Mor released a heavy breath. "All right. I will soon."  She glanced down at Seren's hand. "You're touching me."

"Oh, sorry." Seren drew her hand away.

Mor shook her head and snatched it back. "No, that's good, I meant. You're comfortable touching people again."

Seren eyed her scarred hand in Mor's perfect one and her shadow wound around her arm. "They haven't bothered me much for a while. I haven't had so many nightmares either."

"That's great!" Mor hugged her swiftly. "I'm glad things are going better for you. Truthfully, I've been worried about that since you told us about your pregnancy."

"Madja says the baby is perfectly healthy and should stay that way as long as I am."

Mor began to reply, but a knock at the door interrupted her. Amren paused, her hand lingering on the doorknob. "I'll come back later," she said, backing away.

"No, no." Mor jumped to her feet. "We were just finishing up." Mor squeezed Seren's hand again and breezed past Amren. "Be nice," Seren heard her whisper.

Amren watched her go, then closed the door. "Yes?" Seren asked, crossing her arms.

"I went to Windhaven with Rhys this morning. Jorah asked me to tell you hello and see how you're doing."

"I'm doing fine. How was she?"

"She's becoming a major thorn in Devlon's side, apparently. The Ironcrest females will only listen to her and the males are struggling to set rivalries aside, so she's asserting herself over them."

"And?"

"And it's working, which is why she's a pain to Devlon. He's not fond of the idea of a female giving orders in his camp."

Seren couldn't stop herself from smiling. "Good. I'm glad Jorah is taking charge and not letting her experiences in Ironcrest wear her down." Amren's silver eyes became wary. "What?"

"Nothing," she said after a moment. "Rhys will explain everything later." She turned to leave.

"Thank you for telling me," Seren called after her. Amren hovered near the door and barely dipped her chin, then vanished.

•༻☾☽༺•

Azriel landed on his balcony late in the afternoon. He entered the bedroom and found Seren soundly sleeping. Shadows draped over her shoulders and arms, almost looking like cats. He smiled to himself, her scent reaching him from across the room. It had changed rapidly over the past several days.

The Inner Circle gathers, the shadows whispered. The High Lord brings news.

Azriel crossed the room and brushed a kiss over Seren's forehead, then quietly slipped out. He made his way down the stairs and found his family in their usual sitting room.

"Where's Seren?" Elain asked.

"Asleep," Azriel replied. "I'll catch her up later." He leaned against a wall and waited for Rhys to speak.

"Devlon said his scouts have been keeping an eye on Ironcrest. Erebus hasn't left the camp yet," Rhys said. "Devlon is worried he might be planning to attack Windhaven."

"If he does, we'll be ready to send him crawling back to his masters," Cassian spat. Nesta narrowed her piercing eyes and let her fingers run through Cassian's hair.

"Yes, but as soon as that happens, I think the true battle will arrive. We have to double our efforts and make sure they don't learn of the Dread Trove's location. Vassa has to be freed and we need to find the Mortal Queens."

"What's your plan?" Lucien asked.

Rhys rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You and Elain will return to the Mortal Lands and do whatever it takes to secure Vassa's freedom. Amren, speak with Varian and see if he's learned anything more regarding the Mortal Queens. If possible, I want the two of you to search for them. Mor and I will check on the Dread Trove soon. Cass, Az, the two of you will be in charge of monitoring Windhaven and Ironcrest."

"What about us?" Nesta asked, gesturing to herself and Feyre.

"You'll stay in Velaris for now. If something comes up in the war camps, the two of you will be around to help."

"Maybe I should go with Lucien and Elain to help free Vassa," Nesta suggested.

Feyre perked up. "Or me."

Rhys grinned, but shook his head. "I want your skills available in case of an attack. If Lucien and Elain need help..." Azriel began shaking his head. "Seren will go," Rhys finished. "It's light work and Jurian and Lucien can easily handle the dread lord if he proves to be a problem. And she'll only go if she has to."

Elain twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "I think she should come with us."

"No," Azriel said firmly.

"The dread lord has no family. His own wife died of an illness."

"And?"

"And she was pregnant at the time. He might have a soft spot that we can use to our advantage."

Azriel sighed and fixed his eyes on Rhys. "And I'm sure you won't let me go with them if Seren does?"

"I still need you to keep an eye on the war camps," Rhys sighed.

"You never would have let Feyre do this."

"No, but I wouldn't have been able to stop her if she decided to," Rhys answered.

"And I would have decided to," Feyre added. "You know Seren will agree to help. She'll be fine."

The Lady of Ashes wakes, the shadows murmured.

"I'll be fine doing what?" They all turned as Seren appeared in the doorway. She crossed the room and joined Azriel, lacing their hands together.

"Would you be willing to go to the Mortal Lands with Elain and Lucien?" Rhys asked. "Elain thinks the dread lord might be more cooperative with you around, thanks to your condition."

Seren nodded. "If they think I can help, of course I'll go."

Azriel gritted his teeth and bit back a protest. His wings tightened against his back. Shadows curled around Seren protectively. "I could put a shield over you if that will make you feel safer," Rhys offered, his gaze flickering towards Azriel.

Seren grimaced. "Feyre told me about that. No thank you."

"All right." Rhys looked around the room. "Any questions, suggestions, or protests?" None of them answered. He stood and offered Feyre a hand. "Then let's get to work."

"I'll speak with Madja before leaving," Seren promised, turning to Azriel.

"We'll leave in the morning," Lucien called as he and Elain walked past them.

Azriel watched them leave. Seren lifted a hand to his cheek and pulled his gaze to hers. "You knew I wouldn't just sit at home for ten months, right?" She chuckled.

Azriel managed a smile. "Yes. That doesn't mean I like it, though."

"I promise I'll stay close to Elain and Lucien." She stuck a hand into her hair. When she pulled it out, shadows were dancing in between her fingers. "And your ghostly wisps will be with me."

Azriel frowned with amusement. "Are you sure you don't mind them?"

"I'm used to them by now," Seren laughed. "Although they can be rather overbearing."

We are not, the shadows protested. Lady of Ashes, we are not. The Shadow's Flame. The Illyrian Dragon. The Ember's Mother. Ours.

Azriel knit his brows. "They gave you a new nickname while we were in Ironcrest."

"What is it?"

"The Ember's Mother. I know what it means, and yet I don't."

Seren's amber eyes sparkled as she pressed his hand to her stomach. "An ember grows into a flame. Flames grow into fire. Embers are small and fragile, but flickering with life. With proper care, they grow."

Azriel pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes with a smile. The Ember's Father, a shadow whispered, drifting over his ear. The Ember burns. The Ember grows. The Shadow's Flame. Her light lingers on. The Ember's Father, Azriel tensed at the cold whisper in the shadow's voice, only darkness.

He opened his eyes and swatted the shadow away, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't know what the shadow had meant, and something told him that he didn't want to find out.