40. Azrathiel
AZRATHIEL
Istep closer, studying her as if seeing her fully for the first time.
Not the desperate girl who summoned me in shadow and terror.
Not the defiant bride who stood unafraid before my wrath.
This woman—earth-stained hands holding crushed herbs, silver threading her dark eyes, spine straight with earned strength.
She has grown into herself during our separation. Found her voice, claimed her space, built something lasting from the ashes of what others tried to force upon her.
The sight humbles me.
I sink to my knees voluntarily, the cold earth pressing through my trousers as I kneel before her in her own garden. The scent of lavender and chamomile rises around us, mingling with the deeper green smell of turned soil and nature.
I breathe her in—not just her physical presence but everything she has become. The quiet confidence radiating from her frame. The way she holds herself like someone who has learned her own worth. The subtle power that hums beneath her skin, no longer hidden or ashamed.
She grounds me. Centers something that has been adrift since the moment I stepped back into shadow and left her standing alone in that empty house.
"Every second in your presence is worth any degree of pain, Ilyra."
The confession escapes rough and honest. No careful control, no measured words—just truth stripped bare as autumn branches.
Her breath catches, the sound barely audible above the evening wind moving through the herb stalks around us.
"Perhaps we are meant to be bound beyond contract." The possibility tastes strange on my tongue—hope where I have known only duty, choice where there has been only obligation. "There are bonds that transcend infernal law. Connections that persist across lifetimes."
I reach up slowly, giving her time to pull away, and brush my fingertips along her wrist where her pulse beats steady and strong.
"Mates," I say the word carefully, testing its weight. "Chosen by fate in one lifetime or the next."
She shakes her head, and for a moment my chest tightens with anticipated rejection. But then her free hand comes up to cup my face, thumb tracing the sharp line of my cheekbone with infinite gentleness.
"Fate is cruel. Giving us so little time…" Her voice trembles with everything she has endured—loss and betrayal, forced choices and stolen agency. "But I still choose you anyway."
The touch burns sweeter than any infernal flame I have ever wielded.
"My price to pay when the contract expires is deserved for my sins." Her fingers trail down to rest against the celestial chains marking my throat. "And I would gladly spend the rest of my days with you, Azrath."
The nickname stops my heart. Hearing it now, spoken with such tender certainty, undoes something fundamental in my chest.
I gaze up at her, this remarkable woman who summoned a demon and chose to keep him. Who faced down political marriage and infernal contract with equal courage. Who built a life from nothing and now offers to share it freely.
"You have always been my only choice."
The truth rings between us, absolute and unshakeable. Not the contract that bound us initially. Not duty or obligation or the weight of cosmic law. Just her—fierce and gentle, stubborn and yielding, everything I never knew I needed until she called my name in darkness.
She bends down and kisses me deeply, her mouth warm and certain against mine. When she pulls back, her breath whispers against my lips.
"Take me inside."
I frame her hands around my neck and stand without breaking our kiss, cradling her as I ascend the stairs.
The familiar path grounds me—every creaking board, every worn ledge, every memory of pacing these halls in shadow, watching her move through spaces that sought to break her.
Now I carry her willingly, openly, in light.
Her bedroom smells like dried lavender and ink, with the faintest trace of infernal energy lingering from our first nights. I set her gently on the bed, watching moonlight wash silver across her face. She pulls me down beside her, hands tangling in my hair as she kisses me with determined hunger.
"Undress me."
My fingers find the laces at the back of her simple dress, working the ties loose with deliberate slowness. I push the fabric down her shoulders without letting her rise from my lap, baring her skin inch by inch. The fine blankets she kept—my gift—spread beneath us, soft against my palms.
She arches into my touch as I lean forward and press my mouth to the full curve of her breast. I lick gently, sucking the peak between my lips until she gasps and threads her hands through my hair, holding me there.
Her hips shift against my lap, a slow, deliberate press that sends lightning up my spine. The pressure builds—matching the rhythm of her grinding. I moan into her skin, the sound raw and unfamiliar to my own ears.
She pushes me back by my shoulders until I’m sprawled across the mattress, watching as she straddles me fully. Her hands work the laces of my trousers. She pulls me free, her grip confident.
"Tell me it feels good."
My eyes roll back as she slides down onto me, taking me inch by inch. "You feel so fucking good, little flower."
Her breasts sway above me—pebbled peaks flushed darker than the lavender oil she uses on her pulse points. Every snap of her hips drags a groan from my throat I can’t suppress.
"Look at you," she pants, nails scraping down my chest. "Mighty Infernal Lord, unraveled by a mortal woman."
I snarl, hands flying to her waist. "This woman is the only altar I’ll ever kneel at." My grip tightens, thumbs pressing bruises into the softness below her ribs. "But you forget your place, little flower."
Her laugh fractures into a gasp as I slam her down harder, meeting her rhythm with sharp upward thrusts. Candlelight glazes the sweat along her collarbones, the primal arch of her throat.
"Yours?" She grinds the word into me, walls fluttering. "Prove it."
I flip us before she finishes speaking. The mattress groans as her back hits linens, my hand fisting in her hair to tilt her gaze up. "Mine." My teeth find her earlobe. "Every gasp. Every scream. Every drop of come I wring from this perfect body."
She writhes, heels digging into my ass. "Then stop talking and—"
The slap rings loud—her ass cheek blazing red under my palm. She arches with a shattered cry, clenching around me so tight stars burst behind my eyes.
"Since the moment you summoned me." I drive into her, each thrust punctuating the words.
"Since your blood first sealed our contract.
" Her choked sob fuels me, the bedframe cracking against the wall.
"This tight cunt?" A particularly vicious stroke.
"Mine. These tears?" I lick one from her cheek.
"Mine. Every thought behind those silver-flecked eyes? "
She turns her head, capturing my thumb between her teeth. Bites down hard.
"Yours," she breathes against the digit. "Always yours."
I lose control.
Flipping her onto hands and knees, I yank her hips back. She presents herself without prompting—a fucking vision, back bowed and dripping. My palm prints the other cheek.
"Beg."
"Please, Azrath—"
"Louder."
She screams it into the pillows. "Please, please, please—!"
I give her everything—centuries of restraint, lifetimes of cold precision—shattered in the wet heat of her. Her moans climb higher, words dissolving until only my name remains—a prayer, a curse, a vow.
When her climax hits, she seizes so violently my markings ignite—chains across my shoulders blazing white-hot. She collapses forward, trembling, but grinning like a woman on a high.
Her finger crooks, that infuriating smirk playing across swollen lips as she starts crawling backward. "Again."
I catch her ankle mid-air, yanking until her spine arches off the mattress. "You’ll regret that command."
She laughs—bright, reckless—as I drag her hips to the edge. "Prove it, Infernal Lord."
My knee slams between her thighs, forcing them wider. "Beg properly this time."
Her nails rake down my chest, drawing faint streaks of ember-light beneath my skin. "Make me."
The growl tears from my throat unbidden. I push her onto her side, one hand fisting her hair while the other slaps her ass—a sharp crack that blooms red across flawless skin. She shudders, moan muffled in the sheets.
"Look at you," I snarl, yanking her head back to watch as I push inside. "Desperate little thing, begging for her demon's cock."
She writhes, walls clenching. "Harder—"
I snap my hips, cutting off the word with a punched-out gasp. "You want beast?" My markings ignite down both arms, chains glowing white-hot as I pin her leg up by her ear. "Then take your beast whole."
Her scream fractures when I sheath fully, the angle brutal. "Fuck—!"
"Louder." I bite her shoulder, tasting salt and triumph. "Let the fucking settlement hear who owns this cunt."
She claws at the headboard, wood splintering under her grip. "Oh, gods—"
"Wrong." I drag out, then slam home. "No gods here." Her breath hitches as I lean over, lips grazing her ear. "Just me."
She cranes her neck, eyes blazing defiance even as she shakes. "Azrath..."
The moan snaps my control.
I keep her onto her side, knee hooked over my shoulder, but force her deeper into the bed with the weight of my body as I pound into weeping heat. Her every gasp fuels the inferno—this mortal who dares match me thrust for thrust, who bites my wrist when I try to muffle her cries.
"Let them hear," she pants, grinning wild as a storm. "Let them know what real power fucks like—"
My hand closes around her throat, cutting off the taunt. "Careful, little flower." I squeeze just enough to watch her pupils blow wide. "Lest I ruin you for any other purpose."
Her hips stutter, walls fluttering around me. She smiles. "Promise?"
The plea undoes me.
I release her neck to grip both thighs, spreading her obscenely wide as I batter that sweet spot deep inside. Her shouts turn ragged, nails drawing blood from my forearm.
"Come." I snarl against her pulsepoint. "Let me taste your surrender."
She arches with a shattered scream, back bowing as her climax riots through us both. I follow—burying my roar between her shoulder blades while filling her to the brim.
Collapsed atop her, I trace the bite marks littering her spine. "Still defiant?"
Her laughter shakes against my chest. "You’ll have to try harder next round."
My teeth find her earlobe. "Challenge accepted."