The artwork above is not mine.

•༻☾☽༺•

Azriel's back, shoulders, and wings ached from hours of flying, but he managed to stay in the air. His sword was an instrument of death as he took down Wyvern and traitorous Illyrians. There had been no sign of his half brothers or father yet.

Drakon whirled into view beside him. The Seraphim held back an Illyrian while Azriel ripped his blade through a Wyvern's wing. "The sun is setting," Drakon called. "Will he call them back or will we fight until we die of exhaustion?"

Azriel couldn't answer. Two Illyrians and another Wyvern bore down on him. His siphons crackled with power as he prepared to attack. Just as they reached him, Azriel sent a blast of magic searing through them. The Illyrians screamed, falling from the sky. The Wyvern's shriek was that of nightmares as Azriel continued to pummel it with magic. With a final burst of power, the creature erupted into a spray of blood and limbs.

"Nicely done, Little Brother," Osiris cooed. He flew a short distance from Azriel. "That's a neat little trick to have."

Drakon moved, but Azriel caught him by the shoulder. "He's mine." Drakon retreated to aid an overwhelmed Peregryn.

"I'm flattered you can spare time for me."

"Battles are no place for talking, Osiris. I'd think your time in Ironcrest would have taught you that."

Osiris inclined his head. "You never were one for talking." His lips curled into a cruel grin. "But oh how often you screamed."

Azriel snarled and lunged at Osiris. Their blades locked in a spray of sparks. Azriel slipped Truth-Teller into his other hand, giving himself a slight advantage. Osiris managed to keep up with his blows.

Azriel doubled back as a flash of amber magic filled his vision. The blow missed and Osiris attacked again. Azriel rammed an elbow into his half brother's nose. Osiris faltered briefly, but recovered himself.

"I can still smell your mate all over you," he chuckled. "Your child too, for that matter. Tell me, is my whore ready to be thoroughly fucked? I thought I'd be somewhat decent and let the child be born before..."

Azriel roared and slammed his shoulder into Osiris' chest. Caught off guard, Osiris plummeted. Azriel dove after him, pushing him to the ground. Osiris flapped his wings but Azriel caught one. He wrenched the thin membrane backwards until it ripped. Osiris howled in pain. Azriel gave him one last shove. Osiris hit the ground with a dull thud.

Azriel landed before him, the Killing Calm already settled into place. The shadows whispered terrible things in his ears, tempting him with his half brother's prolonged suffering. Osiris scrambled backwards, grasping at his discarded sword.

"I told you I would kill you," Azriel growled.

"Maybe someday, but not today." Osiris lifted his gaze with a smile. "Look, Azriel. Isn't it pretty?" He stiffened. "See how it dances?" Azriel followed Osiris' gaze to the skies. "Do you want to feel it?"

He screamed as a wave of unmistakable power incinerated a portion of the winged Fae that were fighting overhead. Koschei had wielded the Cauldron. Ashes fell from the sky. Azriel screamed again and took off.

"Cassian!" He hollered. "Drakon!"

"Cassian!" Came a shrill scream from below. He looked down and saw Nesta running towards a familiar body.

"No," Azriel whispered. He dove once more. Cassian took half a step towards Nesta and collapsed, smoking holes torn through his wings.

"Cassian!" Nesta cried again. Feyre and Elain were at her side. Rhys, Jorah, and Devlon weren't far behind. Azriel spotted Mor, Lucien, Gwyn, and Emerie holding off the oncoming Vanth. "Cassian!" Nesta fell to her knees at his side.

Azriel landed beside Mor and lifted his sword to parry one of Beron's warriors' attacks. "The Queens?" He asked. "Where are they?"

"Koschei is holding them in reserve near himself and the Cauldron. Only the Crown has been wielded so far," Mor reported. "You need to get back up there."

Azriel risked a glance at Cassian. Nesta held onto him tightly. His eyes rolled back and Nesta shook him. "He just missed the blast," Rhys said, falling in beside them. "Lucien, winnow him back to the camp. Azriel, I need you back up there."

"Where is Beron?" Helion appeared beside Rhys. "And Erebus?"

"I don't know." Rhys gritted his teeth, dark power cutting through creatures and people left and right.

Azriel narrowed his eyes. He took one last look at Cassian before Lucien winnowed him away. Azriel flew back into the skies and managed to knock an Illlyrian down as he went. He paused, scanning the battlefield. There was no sign of Beron or Erebus anywhere.

Further beyond the writhing mass of bodies, the four Queens stood with Koschei. He was preparing the Cauldron again. Azriel returned to his forces as the sun set beyond the stone mesas. There would be no rest. Not yet.

•༻☾☽༺•

Seren walked the length of the house five times. Twice, Nyx accompanied her. The other three times she walked, she saw him playing tag with Cerridwen. Seren rubbed her hands together worriedly. Shadows tightened around her arms.

Azriel hadn't reached out to her again and a whole day had passed. She didn't know what was happening. Had they been attacked during the night? Were they being attacked now? Were they alive? Had their bodies been mauled beyond recognition?

Seren rubbed her temples. Stop it. I would know if Azriel were dead, she thought. No news is good news until proven otherwise.

She started walking once more. Madja stepped out of a room and watched her. Seren winced as the baby kicked. All day, she'd been feeling cramping pains in her lower abdomen and the baby's activity was only making it worse. Madja pursed her lips.

Seren jumped as a booming knock echoed through the house. Nuala answered the door warily, then, she threw the door wide open and ushered someone inside. Seren saw an Illyrian. "Who is this?" She asked.

"I'm one of the Shadowsinger's spies," the male explained. "I have news for him."

"He's not here. Didn't you hear? The war has begun and they've all gone to Hybern," Madja answered.

The male ran a hand through his hair. "Shit."

"What's going on?" Seren asked.

"Beron Vanserra is leading an army of...creatures...to the Spring Court. He means to kill Tamlin. I saw him in the Summer Court."

"What did the creatures look like?"

"Half rotten corpses," the spy replied with a shudder.

Seren swallowed hard. "Go to Hybern. I don't know where they are exactly, but I know there will be stone mesas around a valley."

"It's a battlefield. I doubt it will be hard to find," he said ruefully before stepping out the door.

Seren closed her eyes tightly. "I'm going to lie down." No one protested as she mounted the stairs.

If Beron is already in the Summer Court, he'll reach the Spring Court soon, she thought. Estimating how long it took the spy to get here, he might already be there. There's no way that spy will reach the others in Hybern before Beron does get there.

Seren stared at Elysian and Metanoia. Someone has to warn Tamlin. The scouts couldn't find him. Mor, Lucien, Elain, and Emerie couldn't find him. But Beron and undead soldiers?

She grabbed the blades, her decision already made. Seren stepped onto her balcony. The house wards ended just beyond it, she knew. If she left through the front doors, Madja would certainly ask questions.

"I must be losing my mind," Seren whispered as she stepped onto the marble railing. Still, she drew in a deep breath and leaped. She winnowed just as she felt herself pass through the wards.

•༻☾☽༺•

Azriel landed near Rhys as the last of Koschei's forces drew back. He was bleeding heavily from several wounds. So was his brother. "Fall back," Rhys said. His voice was oddly quiet. "Leave the dead. There's no time to retrieve them now."

An overwhelming stillness fell over the battlefield that had been filled with screams and clashing steel only moments ago. Now, he could only hear faint moans that ended in a hushed exhale of breath. Rhys and Feyre limped off the battlefield together.

Azriel waited, making sure all of his family had survived. There was Mor, with Emerie and Gwyn at her side. Amren, Varian, and Cresseida followed. Nesta and Lucien half carried Elain, whose face was streaked with tears. He even spotted Jorah and Devlon walking close together. In fact, it looked like Devlon had an arm around her. Whether for support or protection, he didn't know.

Finally, he followed them back to camp. The High Lords were waiting when they arrived. "We can't sustain days of that," Tarquin said. "Your plan has to succeed soon or we will all die."

"It will work," Rhys answered.

"More than a quarter of our aerial forces were killed by the Cauldron's power alone," Tarquin continued. "We don't even know how many we lost on the ground."

"It will work."

"We don't have time for this. If you don't reach the Queens, we are all going to..."

"IT WILL WORK!" Rhys shouted. He panted and Feyre gripped his arm tightly. "It will work." Rhys blinked, but a single tear slid down his cheek regardless. "It will work. And if it doesn't, I will buy you all as much time as I can."

Tarquin stared as Rhys and Feyre stumbled away. Azriel followed Nesta towards another tent. Cassian lay inside. A healer had already fixed up his bodily wounds and was working on his wings. He was unconscious and the healer had only made a little progress.

Nesta knelt beside him and smoothed some hair from his face. "Will he be all right?"

"He'll be fine, but he'll be grounded for a week or two until his wings are fully healed."

Azriel massaged his temples wearily. "Cass won't like that."

"No, but he'll comply." Nesta closed her eyes, her hand still buried in Cassian's hair. Azriel ducked out of the tent.

Jurian and Eris were already asleep when he reached his own. Eris hadn't even bothered to wipe the blood off his face. Azriel didn't either. He dropped onto his bedroll and slept. His dreams were of screams, blood, and monsters.

•༻☾☽༺•

When Seren reached the Spring Court, she found no trace of Beron or his undead soldiers. She began moving through the woods, listening for any sign of movement. The pain in her abdomen spiked again. She paused, bracing a hand against the trunk of a tree.

A few flames flickered to life at her fingertips, illuminating the woods. Pale moonlight drifted through the crowns of the trees. She waited until the pain had reduced before continuing on.

Seren didn't call for Tamlin. That would be of no use and it would only alert her enemies to her presence. No, she would let Tamlin find her. She knew he would. She was a stranger on his land, or, not necessarily a stranger, assuming he remembered their encounter last year.

Another cramping pain rose. Seren gasped, leaning against another tree. Her breath quickened as the pain increased. She tried to draw steady and even breaths. Seren took a few more steps, then froze. Her legs were wet. Her jaw trembled as she realized what was happening. The baby was coming. Now.

•༻☾☽༺•

To my Devlon and Jorah shippers:
Please see my book "Beyond the Books" and go to the part titled "Awaited Admittance" for some bonus content featuring them.