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Azriel kept his gaze on Eris, watched carefully as the other male leaned comfortably into the armchair by the open window. It was the longest night of the year, and where snow had just been falling gently to coat the streets of Velaris, the Autumn Court remained the same.
Leaves the colour of expensive jewels danced in the light of the setting sun, the sky could barely be seen between the thick canopy of trees. The steady glow of the fireplace cast long shadows on the carpeted floors and stone walls of the study, perfect for Azriel to remain hidden.
Eris untied the fabric around his neck with practiced fingers, revealing a triangle of pale skin. He folded the square neatly before placing it onto the smooth wooden surface of his desk. Azriel watched curiously as he rummaged through one of the drawers and carelessly tossed a carved case onto it.
Eris ran a hand through his hair, tugging once on the strands at the nape of his neck. He must have been frustrated, Azriel realised, noticing for the first time how the other male’s lips were pressed together tightly.
Eris opened the lid of the case with a loud click, pulling out a pipe made of birch. He licked his lips, placing it between them in a gesture that seemed surprisingly familiar. Azriel could only look on as the High Lord’s heir dropped a pinch of leaves into the chamber, tension leaving his broad shoulders with every action.
The smallest flame came to life on Eris’s fingers, just enough so as to light the dry leaves. Holding onto the pipe lazily with a beringed hand, he sucked in gently, keeping the smoke in his mouth for a moment before he spoke.
“Will you be staying in the shadows all night?” Eris offered into the small space, tilting his head back to rest on the chair as his eyes fluttered shut.
Azriel paused, tracking the smooth column of the prince’s throat. He was surprised and he tried to hide deeper into the darkness, pressing himself more fully against the wall.
Eris sighed, keeping the pipe in his mouth as he stood up and turned to grab two glasses from their place on a bar. He placed them onto his desk, stopping only to smoke briefly before he picked up a bottle of whiskey, pouring two fingers into each glass. Eris sat on his desk, long legs stretched out in front of him, booted feet crossed at the angle.
Azriel was unable to tear away his gaze as Eris set down the pipe, taking a sip from his glass. “Care for a drink, shadowsinger?”
Azriel could have groaned at how easily Eris had sensed his presence. He stepped out of the darkness, shaking his head, loose curls falling into his line of sight. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be the type to want company.”
Eris shrugged elegantly, his smile was sharp as the blade of any knife. “I suppose it depends on my mood.” He offered the glass to Azriel, who moved closer in order to take it with a gloved hand.
Azriel tilted his head, glancing around the rest of the study. It was cozy in a way he had not been expecting. “You turned down an invitation to the Hewn City to spend your night like this?”
“Kier annoys me,” Eris said simply, draining the rest of his glass and dragging the sleeve of his white shirt across his face. “What brings you here?” There was slight amusement in his tone, as though he had correctly guessed that Rhysand and Feyre were curious as to why he would have refused to join them for Starfall.
Azriel ignored the question to ask one of his own, wings flaring. “No solstice celebrations tonight?”
Eris snorted, tilting his chin in the window’s direction. “Does this look like the Winter Court?”
Azriel did not know what to say, choosing instead to remain silent and drink from his glass. Eris raised a brow, expecting a response. “I thought all of Prythian did something for the solstice.”
Eris clicked his tongue, looking at Azriel through his auburn lashes. “Some of us care very little for the longest night of the year and prefer the Autumn Equinox.” He took the pipe back into his hands, slowly placing it between his lips. In a gesture perhaps meant to rattle Azriel, he hollowed out his cheeks as he gently sucked the smoke into his mouth.
Azriel felt a blush rise to his cheeks, and he was grateful for the lack of light in the room. His wings moved, the only outward sign of any attraction he might have felt for the male sitting in front of him. “Is this how you spend all your nights?” Azriel heard the raspiness in his own voice, a whisper of desire.
Eris blew a circle of smoke at Azriel, the golden hoops going up the arch of his pointed ear flashing as he tilted his head like a wolf. “Tonight I think perhaps my plans have changed,” he leaned off of the desk, setting the pipe aside, only to walk closer to where Azriel was standing.
They were about the same height, and Azriel saw as flames danced in the prince’s amber eyes. Eris breathed in deeply, a wicked smile on his full lips, and Azriel knew that the scent of his own arousal lingered in the small space. “What would you say, shadowsinger, have my plans changed?”
Azriel wanted to grab the other male by the throat, wanted to leave a mark. He swallowed, heavy gaze never leaving Eris. “I think they have,” he said, voice low, suggestive.
Before Azriel could reconsider the reckless decision he had made, Eris had already winnowed them both from the study.