Isla's POV

The storm began quietly, like most do—not in the sky, but in the depths of my chest, a swirling, tightening feeling that made it hard to breathe. I didn't need to look out at the darkening skies of Velaris to know something was brewing. I felt it in the air, heavy and charged with unspoken tension.

I found myself in the great hall of the House of Wind, my fingers brushing along the edge of the bannister as I peered out into the distance. The rain hadn't started yet, but the wind whispered its warning through the mountains, teasing strands of my hair loose from my braid.

Azriel was somewhere in the house, though I didn't know exactly where. I hadn't seen him all day, but I knew he was near. I could always tell when he was close—the shadows always gave him away.

I sighed, leaning against the cool stone railing. Ever since our last conversation, things had shifted between us, though not in the way I'd hoped. He'd opened up just enough to let me glimpse the storm within him, but then he'd retreated, more distant than ever. Yet his shadows still lingered around me, a silent contradiction to the walls he tried to rebuild.

"Lost in thought again?" Mor's voice pulled me from my reverie.

I turned to find her standing a few feet away, a knowing smile on her lips. She always seemed to know when something was weighing on me, and tonight was no exception.

"Something like that," I admitted, forcing a small smile.

She joined me at the railing, her gaze sweeping over the city below. "You know, Velaris has seen its share of storms. They come and go, but the city always endures." She shot me a sideways glance. "People are the same. We endure, even when the storms feel like they'll tear us apart."

I didn't respond right away, but her words settled in my chest, resonating with the storm I felt brewing inside me. Before I could say anything, though, the sound of raised voices drifted up from the lower floors.

I tensed, recognizing one of the voices immediately. Rhysand.

And the other... Azriel.

Mor's expression darkened. "Stay here," she said firmly, but I was already moving.

Ignoring her protests, I made my way down the winding staircase, my heart pounding with every step. The tension in the air thickened with each passing second, and by the time I reached the main hall, it felt almost suffocating.

Rhysand stood at the centre of the room, his usual calm demeanour replaced by something sharper, more commanding. Azriel stood across from him, his shadows coiling tightly around him like a living barrier.

"You can't keep doing this, Azriel," Rhys said, his voice low but laced with authority. "You're not just hurting yourself—you're hurting her."

Her. I knew he meant me, and the realization made my breath hitch.

Azriel didn't respond right away, but I saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. His shadows flickered wildly, betraying the storm within him.

"You think I don't know that?" he finally said, his voice rough, strained. "You think I don't feel it every time I see her?"

Rhysand's expression softened, but only slightly. "Then stop running from it. Stop hiding behind what you think you should feel and face what's right in front of you."

I wanted to step forward, to say something, but I was rooted in place, torn between wanting to comfort Azriel and respecting the space he so desperately clung to.

"She deserves more than what I can give her," Azriel said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm... I'm not whole, Rhys. I never have been."

Rhysand's gaze softened further, a rare glimpse of vulnerability in the High Lord. "None of us are whole, Az. We all carry our scars. But that doesn't mean we don't deserve happiness. It doesn't mean we don't deserve love."

For a moment, there was only silence, the weight of Rhysand's words hanging in the air like the calm before the storm.

Azriel didn't say anything, but I saw the way his shadows stilled as if absorbing every word. And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, his shadows trailing behind him like a cloak.

I stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. Part of me wanted to chase after him, to demand that he stop running. But another part of me knew that this was something he had to face on his own.

"He cares about you, Isla," Rhysand said gently, drawing my attention back to him. "More than he's willing to admit. Give him time."

I nodded slowly, though it did little to ease the ache in my chest.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Later that night, I found myself standing outside Azriel's door, hesitating. I didn't know what I was going to say, but I knew I couldn't leave things as they were. I raised my hand to knock, but before I could, the door opened, and I found myself face-to-face with him.

His expression was guarded, but there was something in his eyes—something raw, unspoken.

"Can we talk?" I asked softly.

He stepped aside, letting me in without a word. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the small fire crackling in the hearth. His shadows lingered in the corners, but they didn't seem as restless as before.

"I heard what you said to Rhys," I began, turning to face him. "And I get it. You're scared. But so am I, Azriel. I'm scared of being in a world where I don't belong. I'm scared of these powers I don't understand. But more than that, I'm scared of losing you before I ever really had you."

He didn't respond right away, but I saw the way his shadows moved, reaching out toward me like they always did. It was as if they couldn't help themselves, drawn to me in a way that mirrored the connection I felt with him.

"I don't know how to do this," he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know how to be what you need."

"You don't have to be perfect, Azriel," I said, taking a step closer. "I'm not asking you to be. I just want you to let me in. To stop pushing me away."

For a moment, he didn't say anything. But then he closed the distance between us, his shadows wrapping around us both like a protective cocoon.

"I'll try," he said softly, his voice trembling with emotion. "I don't know if I can give you everything you deserve, but I'll try."

And as his shadows enveloped me, I felt something shift—a glimpse of truth, a promise of something more.

The storm within us hadn't passed, but for the first time, it felt like we were facing it together. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.