The sound of batting wings kept growing louder as Azriel appeared next to Rhys, his sword - Truth Teller - already pointed at the entrance of the tent.

They slowly exited, their senses sharp, only to be struck by the situation outside. Tens of Illyrian warriors of Camp EastSky were standing before them with drawn weapons.

Cassian was still at least half a day away which meant they were on their own.

Neither of them feared the physical threat before them, but rather who was behind this and why the Illyrians supported them.

The coward from last night stepped forward, suddenly feeling brave, knowing he had soldiers behind him.

"Surprise," he yelled baring his teeth, encouraged by those behind him.

But all it'd taken was a side glance from the High Lord of the Night Court and their mouths were shut close.

"Care to explain?" Rhys asked casually, but the threat in his tone was unmissable.

"The High Lord of the Autumn Court sends his regards," the coward mused.

Although the statement had caught both Azriel and Rhys by surprise, they didn't show it one bit. Their expressions didn't falter but instead stayed stone-cold and unforgiving.

"He knew you'd fall for the correspondence with the Faerie Land nonsense. He knew you'd come to inspect the second you'd hear about it." The coward's vicious smile grew with cheers from the other traitors.

"What did he offer you?" Rhys's voice was still collected, but Azriel knew it was only a matter of time before he punished them for their betrayal.

"We are to become the commanders of his elite forces, the leaders of his armies," the coward cocked his head, his smile growing feral, "Right after you're dead."

"And then what?" Rhys was playing a smart game. Let this ignorant man spill all of Autumn Court's plans so he could destroy them later.

"And then what?" The coward scoffed. "Then we take your lands while your Court is in pieces because of your successor."

Rhys's lips curled upward and Azriel took that as a sign to attack. He raised his sword and took a step closer.

"I wouldn't," the coward tsked, obviously too sated with the sudden power that he kept becoming more thoughtless in his next moves. "You see we couldn't face you without any protection."

Azriel slanted his eyes to see the slight shimmer of a shield around the Illyrians.

"Courtesy of His Highness, I suppose?" Rhys drawled, his gaze growing feline. He merely cast a sideways glance at Azriel before the shield was down. It had taken him half a thought. It was now Rhys's time to smile feral-like, "Guess your Lord doesn't care much for you."

That was all Rhys said before the first scream bounced off the bare mountains, followed by the next while Azriel took care of the physical battle.

But his mind kept wondering what if they'd been the ones to learn about Fallon. What if they'd told the High Lord of the Autumn Court. He transferred that fear into strength as he cleared his way through the falling soldiers.

But why was he feeling afraid for Fallon's wellbeing. She was his friend, so naturally, he cared for her. But the sheer thought of her in danger or hurt ... Shudders shook his body as the image of her pierced wings and lifeless body appeared in his mind. Yes, he would gladly give up his life for any of his friends to live if necessary, but why did he know he would have fought with everything he had just to stay alive if only to see Fallon one last time.

Azriel couldn't explain to himself why his heart felt full when he heard her laugh or why he didn't feel like he had to keep wearing the stoic mask around her.

---

"You're leaving?" Fallon asked Cassian from the sofa she was currently reading on.

"Some of us aren't lazy, Vivi," Cassian teased her.

Fallon's eyes narrowed. "Where did you hear that?" Only one person called her that.

Cassian's eyes gleamed up. "What is he the only one who gets to call you that?" he pouted.

"Don't be a baby, Cass." Fallon rolled her eyes at him and waved her hand goodbye.

It sounded alien coming out of Cassian's mouth. Vivi.

Her mind wandered to Azriel, her tutor, her friend, her ...

Azriel was one of the biggest parts of her world, along with all her friends, obviously, but still, at this moment her heart felt only half-full. She missed his intense hazel eyes, his annoyed glares when she teased him, his strong arms that would always catch her, and most of all she missed the sound of his laugh - the sparkle in his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks.

The book in her hands was simmering because of the small flames playing on her fingers. Why did that happen? She shook her head as if that could sort her thoughts out and focused back on the book.

---

A few hours passed when Feyre and Mor finally returned from their trip to Cretea.

And while Fallon pried for any information about the surprise, they wouldn't say a word. Stubborn High Fae, Fallon thought.

They had a small dinner, which was mostly just Mor and Feyre describing how beautiful Cretea was and how they all had to go visit it soon.

"Weren't they supposed to be back by now?" Feyre asked as they were putting away the dishes.

Fallon couldn't remember when Cassian'd told her they'd be back. Suddenly a knot formed in her stomach.

Her friends shared her worried look. They had been gone for a long time, but maybe they'd stopped somewhere else. Or maybe they'd-

A yell rippled through the peaceful house.

"Help!" Cassian yelled from the living room. They must have winnowed in.

Fallon ran after Mor and Feyre, who gasped as soon as she set foot into the living room.

Fallon wasn't far behind and what she saw froze her in her tracks. All the colour went out of the world, the once cozy room suddenly ice-cold.

Rhys sat on the floor, his handsome face drained and his usual posture was now slumped, he looked exhausted. What happened there?

The next sight Fallon took in was Cassian who was unharmed and kneeling with anger, worry, and urgency written all over his face.

When Fallon saw who Cassian was kneeling next to she felt her heart break into a thousand pieces.

Azriel lay on the floor, his eyes closed as his blood stained the brown carpet beneath him. His wings - his life - were in shreds. Some were healing, but too slow. He wasn't healing fast enough.

Fallon ran to her hurt friend, thinking if this was how they'd felt when her wings had been cut up.

Cassian lifted his head from Azriel to meet her eyes and leave Azriel in her care for the moment as Mor dragged him to the sofa to examine him, call the healer and get an explanation about what'd happened.

"Azriel," Fallon whispered, blinking back tears that formed every time she looked at his wings and his deathly features.

She gently brushed his short, raven hair away from his face, only to see the small cuts and punches colouring his face.

"Azriel," she whispered again, scared that if she said any more the tears would start falling.

A moment later a warm, blood-stained hand found hers on his cheek. Azriel's fingers were ice-cold and Fallon focused on the one thing she could do for him until the healer came.

She sent her warmth to him, feeling his hand become warmer. Into this warmth, she threw all of her reassurance, care and love. He had to know he wasn't alone in this moment. This was the only comfort she could offer him.

Sometime after Azriel was taken to his room with the healer, Cassian and Rhys, who'd managed to regain his strength, explained what had happened.

The betrayal, the false reports, the threat from the Autumn Court and the battle. Rhys and Azriel had taken on dozens of highly trained Illyrians and beat them. But not without sacrifice, Fallon's mind flew to the blood pouring from Azriel's wings and her stomach tightened.

He could have died.

He could have died and she might never gotten to tell him that...