A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 11

Y/n peeked at him through half-lidded eyes, her expression deadpan. "The first and last person who called me cute ended up in the infirmary, on the brink of death" she murmured, her lips twitching with a teasing smile. "So, be careful with your next words."

Azriel chuckled again, but this time there was a flash of something else in his eyes- something deeper, more vulnerable. "Sometimes, I don't know if you're joking or telling the truth" he admitted, watching her with a thoughtful look.

"Fuck around and find out" she replued with a sleepy grin.

Something about her in that moment- unguarded, without the usual walls she built around herself- made him pause. The way her guard was down, how her words flowed without caution or restraint, sent a chill through him.

If they had more time, he would've loved nothing more than to sit here, watch her like this for a little longer- ask her the questions he never dared to ask before. He wanted to wrap his shadows around her, to protect her from everything the world would throw their way.

But war was calling. And he didn't know if he would ever get the chance to see her like this again. Hell, he didn't know if he'd get to see her at all after today. One thing he knew for certain: if she were in danger, which she likely would be, he'd gladly lay down his life for her. He just hoped if that moment came, she'd forgive him for it.

Cassian was the first to emerge, his usual swagger replaced by a quiet resolve, as he approached his brother and Y/n. There was no snarky comment this time, just a firm nod before he turned his attention to the task ahead. Soon after, Rhys and the others gathered, their expression grim but determined.

As they took to the sky, Cassian immediately started executing the war strategy, his sharp eyes scanning the battlefield while he changed captains and formations with swift precision.

The sisters quickly changed into Illyrian leathers, though Elain, finding the tight-fitting attire scandalous, was offered more modest clothing by Viviane. Y/n, on the other hand, embraced the Illyrian leathers, slipping into the black leather pants before throwing on a custom-made black leather coat that resembled a dress. Her lips twitched with satisfaction as she adjusted the coat's collar- if she was going to fight, she was going to fight in style.

Cassian approached, handing out weapons. He gave Nesta and Y/n each a knife, but Y/n shook her head, refusing. Instead, she asked for a sword, her voice steady.

The group collectively still. Cassian blinked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise, a scoff escaping his lips. "And what are you going to do with a sword? You can't even fight. I even offered to train you." His voice had a teasing edge, though a thread of genuine concern was woven into his words.

Y/n squared her shoulders, chin lifting defiantly, eyes narrowing. "You don't know that. Besides, don't you need everyone willing to fight on the battlefield?"

Cassian sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, warriors who have been trained and know how to fight."

"Look, we don't have time to argue." Her tone turned sharp, her eyes flashing. "I have made up my mind. Feyre and Nesta don't need me. They can nullify the Cauldron with your High Lord's second-in-command. I'm not going to sit back and watch people die while I do nothing. I'm going on that battlefield."

"Y/n, you can't," Feyre interjected, her voice soft but laced with worry, her eyes flickering nervously between Rhys and her sister.

"Why?" Y/n jaw clenched as she turned to Feyre. "Because I might die? So can everyone else on the battlefield. So can you."

Rhys stepped forward, his expression unreadable, though his tone was unyielding. "I forbid it."

"You're not my High Lord. I don't have to listen to you" Y/n shot back, her voice cold.