Azriel-Cardigan

Pairing: Azriel x Reader Summary:Warnings: Devlon. Mentions of domestic abuse. A/N: inspired by Cardigan by Taylor Swift, except in this version he doesn't come back.

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You place the two cups of tea in front of your father and his guest. A female so beautiful, with high cheek bones and a black lipstick to match. She doesn't have wings and her cloths look far more elegant and richer from the clothes females in illyria were. She's surely from other place.

Your father, Lord Devlon, had instructed you to be on your best behavior today. You knew the rules of what do to when any guest comes, father had taught you even since you could remember living. Just stand back with your head down and be alert for when he requires anything from you.

And you do exactly that. Knowing that not doing would have painful punishments.

The female laughs at whatever your father had said before you came, and your father puts a hand on hers with a disgusting smirk. The lady glaces at your bowed head with an unsure expression you see in your peripheral, to which he responds,"Do not worry about her, she won't understand anything." His fingers swipping at her hand and you almost gag.

"Won't understand, my ass." You want to say but keep quiet and try to block out the teasing smirks they share. You're almost twenty one, of course you understand those revolting looks your shameless father gives females.

-☆-

You get out of the house as soon as your father gives you permission too. Gods, you hate that male, but have to endure his presence if you want to live at a little better life then the other females in your camp.

You ran and go to one place you know will bring you joy. The trianing grounds arent allowed for females to go to, so you stay far enough that no body would notice you seeing them. You look for the only person that makes you happy and doesn't treat you like worthless dolls. You see Azriel, fighting with his brothers, and let go of the breath you didn't know you were holding.

He looks so good.

The evening light making his bare chest glow. His wings flared in the show of dominance as he spars with Cassian. Rhysand watching them from the ground as Azriel expertly defeats Cassian and walks back to Rhysand with a small smile.

Your mind flashes with mammories of the last time you two were together. When father had given you particular blow that left you a line on blood down your cheek for not doing a chore. Azriel had so delicately wiped off the dried blood and took care of you, creeping into your room at night when everyone else lay alseep except you two. He kissed you all the way down your face and neck, showing you the care and love you deserve. Whispering promises of revenge for every scar on your body while loving you with everything he has.

Giggles sound behind you, breaking you moment of daydreaming. And you turn around, startled but settle down your panic when you see a group of three females talking and giggling while staring at the males training.

Thank the Mother, they aren't the very males your all staring at or father would be made. As you think about your better luck, fate seems to say 'fuck you' because just as your getting up, one of the females sees and you both freeze. The , nyra you remember, turns and calls the others attention, and your groan at yourself mentally.

Those females are definitely going to tell your father about your whereabouts, exposing there's too in the process which will get all of you in trouble. You were friends when you little but after growing up, when they realized who your father is and just how much power he holds in this camp, they became distent. You've had a lot of friends but never a true one.

You nod at them awkwardly and glance at Azriel once more before turning and leaving.

-☆-

You toss and turn on your so called bed the your room. Your thoughts repeatedly drift off to Nyra and her friends catching you red handed, drooling over training males. You kept glancing at your door, hoping for her or one of her friends to walk through and declare your secret.

What you hadn't excepted, however, was the flaping sound of wings filling the midnight silence. You sit up at the same time azriel lands never your window, having squeezed in his wings due to the size of your small room.

You stand and hug him, he returns the embrace in an instant, breathing in your sweet scent that drives him insane. When he tries to pull back, your hands tighten around him, shaking your head in a silent plea to hold on longer and he complies.

"Are you alright, my love?" His voice so soft and comforting as he whispers. You shake your head and remain as you are. Speaking softly, the words you say to each other, promising yourselves to the other, forever.

"I love you, Az."

"And I love you. Always."

-☆-

Even after five hundred years, you still can't seem to move on. Your thoughts always drifting back to the only person you saw your future with.

After Rhysand became high lord, the years when the trio weren't there were dreadful. Your father only seemed to have became worse. When Rhys got the news of you being promised to an illyrian from the camp, he came to get you. Knowing the history between Azriel and you, he took you to Valeris and introduced you to the inner circle. You finally met the love of your life after being separated for over a decade.

However, it did not go as it planned.

Azriel seemed to distanced himself from you, at first you thought maybe it was the fact that you were meeting after so long but as time went, you realized it wasn't his nerves that were the problem but his heart. You started to realize where his feelings seemed to be directed. You realized just how little he felt for you now and how much more for Mor.

You have to admit though, you love Mor. She is beautiful, confident and just amazing. What hurts, is knowing that now he does too.

You always thought the two of you were in it for life, that he was the person you're supposed to spend your life with but you were wrong. You were just kids after all. You were new to the world, exploring and trying new things. You were never supposed to be together, passion having blurred the boundaries and consequences of your actions.

Now, even after five hundred years. Azriel moved on, with different females to bed and Mor or Elain to give his heart too. But you? You're still twenty one, still living in that camp, under your fearful father's roof and completly and utterly in love with the shadowsinger.

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