Chapter 59 – Quinton
QUINTON
I’d barely made it to the end of the day before I started looking for her.
Azaria had been off since morning—quieter than usual, edges smoothed out but not in a good way.
She’d slipped out during lunch, leaving her plate half-finished.
That wasn’t like her, not lately. I’d watched her thread through the hall with her shoulders drawn tight, eyes fixed somewhere I couldn’t follow.
It was already evening when I found myself on the path to her house, hands shoved in my pockets. Some habits die hard. I needed to see her, check she was still in one piece, maybe get her to eat something that wasn’t reheated bread or Dain’s stew.
The night was clear, making the Tempest’s streets feel softer. Stars littered the sky in fine pinpricks, the air crisp enough that every breath felt clean.
Then a voice cut clean through the stillness. “Having an evening stroll?”
I damn near jumped out of my skin. My hand twitched toward the dagger at my hip before I caught myself.
Dain stood there like he’d been carved from the shadows, one corner of his mouth curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile. Black clothes, black gloves, a black hood shoved back just enough to show his face. Spymaster uniform.
“Seven hells, Dain,” I muttered, heart still hammering. “Do you make a sport of trying to stop people’s hearts?”
He shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Only yours. Everyone else just knows better.”
I scowled, though it lacked bite. No one else alive could sneak up on me like that, except him. And Azaria.
My eyes flicked to the box tucked under his arm. “What’s that?”
“Pastries,” he said simply, as though the word didn’t feel completely absurd coming from him. Then he tilted his head toward the street ahead. “You’re heading to Azaria’s, I assume?”
I bit back the urge to say something clever and just nodded.
“Good thing I have the key,” he said, falling into step beside me.
Stars, one day I will stab the bastard out of reflex.
After a minute of walking, I broke the quiet. “Is everything all right? Azaria seemed off today. She left before lunch, didn’t say much to anyone.”
“She went to see her mother,” Dain said, calm as you please. “Wanted to talk to her about Kalias.”
So that’s where she’d gone. Her mood hadn’t improved when she got back. If anything, she’d looked even more distant.
“Kalias called her ’Priestess of Earth,’” I said. “Was she a priestess before she joined the Earth Guard?”
Dain didn’t answer right away. He turned the box in his hands, thinking for a moment.
“I don’t know the details. I know she spent a lot of time in the Earth temples praying.
Maybe she trained as a priestess before Tywin brought her into the Guard, but I never looked into it.
Azaria doesn’t talk much about her mother’s past.” He glanced at me.
“She’ll tell you when she’s ready, Quin. ”
I nodded. Didn’t push it further.
Dain let us in with his spare key, looking far too smug for a man who kept a copy “just in case.” I muttered something under my breath about boundaries and shadow walkers, but he didn’t bother to pretend he heard. Half of this house was his, after all.
He beat me to the kitchen, dropping the box of pastries and a book on the counter (where the hells had that come from?), then disappearing into the pantry. I stood awkwardly for a second, hands in my pockets, until the door creaked behind me.
Azaria stepped in, cheeks a little pink from the night air. Her hair was mussed from the wind, a few wild strands clinging to her temple. She saw us both, her face lit up, and the sight cracked straight through the tension in my chest.
Dain nudged the box closer, then picked up the book. “Brought you something,” he said, offering it over like it was no big deal.
Azaria’s brows rose, delighted as she took it, fingers tracing the embossed cover. “Another one? At this rate, I’ll owe you a library card.” He grinned, softer than usual, and she brushed his sleeves with a critical eye. “You’re in black tonight,” she said, tugging at the fabric.
Dain’s voice dropped, gentler. “Work night. I’ll be back before you know it.”
She squeezed his wrist. “Be careful.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “Always.”
It was easy, the way they moved around each other. For a heartbeat, I felt like the odd one out. Then Azaria turned to me, and the feeling vanished.
I cleared my throat. “How was patrol with Kalias?”
She shrugged, rolling her shoulders. “Uneventful. He ran three circuits, sniffed every damn fence post, scared off a pair of foxes, and then fell asleep under the chestnut tree.” She leaned against the counter, hands still curled around the book.
“Honestly, I might stop bothering with his runs soon. Everything’s been so quiet. ”
Dain nodded, opening the pantry. “Quiet’s not bad. Means the city’s finally remembering how to mind its own business.”
I grinned. “You’ll miss it. You need trouble to feel alive.”
Azaria made a show of rolling her eyes. “The only trouble I need is keeping you lot out of prison.”
I smirked, stepping a little closer. “Go have a bath, Sweetheart. You look like you wrestled a bear.”
Dain chimed in without missing a beat. “I’ll get you some food.”
Azaria’s eyes danced. “You two are bossy tonight,” she grumbled, but there was no fight in her as she disappeared upstairs.
About fifteen minutes later, the faint thump of footsteps sounded overhead, followed by the rush of water draining. The floor creaked. I glanced up, half-expecting her to come down in her usual old shirt and loose trousers.
Instead, she appeared at the top of the stairs in dark blue lace, soft, sheer in places, the kind of thing I’d only seen folded at the back of her drawers.
Her hair fell loose, damp and golden in the lamplight.
She padded down like she didn’t notice the way my jaw went slack or my brain forgot how to form a single word.
Dain noticed first. “Damn, Az,” he rasped, eyes crinkling. “I like that one. Where did you get it?”
She gave him an easy smile, “Soraya gave it to me. Said it went with that dress for the Anniversary ball.”
Dain nodded, entirely unruffled. I, on the other hand, felt something territorial twist in my gut at the way his gaze lingered. Family or not, it scraped my nerves raw.
Azaria caught the look on my face and rolled her eyes. She strode over, smacking my chest with the back of her hand. “Stop that.”
I huffed, trying to look chastened. Dain just shot me a look that said, settle down, Thornvale.
She perched on a stool and pulled the pastry box close. Dain slid a plate of proper food in front of her and pointed with all the authority of a drill sergeant. “Eat proper food before you devour those pastries.”
Azaria grinned and dug in without complaint.
Dain lingered just long enough to watch her take a few bites, then grabbed his gloves and coat. “I’ll be back before sunrise. Don’t wait up.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
The door closed behind him with a soft click. The house seemed quieter for it, shadows settling into the corners. I leaned against the table, studying her as she ate. “So. How was your evening with Dain? You two up to anything scandalous?”
She rolled her eyes, swallowing. “If by ’scandalous’ you mean he spent half the time fussing over my bruises and the other half gossiping about you, then yes. Absolutely wild.”
I grinned, leaning in closer. “Gossiping about me, huh? Should I be worried?”
She cocked a brow. “Depends. How much do you want to know?”
I made a show of considering. “All of it. Every sordid detail.”
She gave me a sidelong look, then nudged the plate in my direction.
“Maybe I’ll tell you. If you ask nicely.
” Her voice dropped, and the sound went straight between my legs.
Paired with that lace, I was already lost. I pulled out the stool beside her and sat, close enough that our knees touched.
I waited until she’d finished half her plate before I let the question slip out.
“You all right? You were off today. You left before lunch. Didn’t say much.”
She poked at her food. “Yeah, I’m…” She gave a lopsided smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m not sure, Quin. I asked my mother if everything was all right after that weird moment with Kalias yesterday.”
I nodded, remembering the way Liria had looked.
Azaria set her fork down. “She said it was fine. Apologized for being strange. She said Kalias reminded her of some memories with shifters, back when she was young. Didn’t want to go into it.
” She tried for a casual shrug, but the tension was there.
“I didn’t want to push. But I don’t know, Quin.
I just worry about her sometimes. She always seems so strong, so put-together, but then something slips and I’m not sure she’s as all right as she wants me to believe. ”
I reached over, covering her hand with mine. “She’s your mum. It’s all right to worry. But she’s tough, Az. Look at her daughter.”
That earned me a flicker of a smile, brighter this time. “Don’t make me get sappy. I just needed to talk it out, I guess.”
“Anytime.” I squeezed her hand. “I’m here. Even if it’s just to remind you that you’re allowed to be the one who worries for once.”
She huffed, then leaned into me, her head resting on my shoulder. “You’re impossible.”
I pressed a kiss to her hair. “Takes one to know one, Sweetheart. Now finish your food.”
She pulled back, picked up her fork, and did exactly that. Slowly, deliberately, holding my gaze the whole time. Every bite felt like a challenge, like she knew exactly what she was doing, sitting there in dark blue lace that left almost nothing to the imagination, taking her sweet time.