Chapter 29
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
IN MY BLOOD
Poe
“Even monsters have hearts—and my broken one beats only for you.” — A
E vening settled quickly after a quiet day in the garden with Azariel, helping him tend to the roses. I hadn’t expected anything grand, but I also hadn’t expected that sitting in dirt, helping him care for the plants, would feel so magical— so meant to be.
It felt as if this was exactly where we were supposed to be. Nowhere else.
As always, he didn’t say much. Azariel wasn’t a man of many words and honestly, I didn’t need him to be. I just needed to exist with him.
A few kisses hadn’t changed him dramatically—he was still the same Azariel—but his gaze had softened whenever he looked at me. No longer cold or distant. He didn’t pretend I didn’t exist anymore. It felt like it used to, when he’d let me sit with him in silence while we read The Little Prince .
The air around us felt sweet, because even in silence, I could feel the full weight of his attention. I spent the entire afternoon trying to settle my heart—who, by the way, had become an even bigger fan of Azariel.
When my eyes landed on the rose bushes, flashes from our time earlier in the garden came rushing back.
The afternoon sun poured over us like warm honey on a cold winter day, softening everything it touched—the hedges, the stone paths, the hauntingly stunning water fountain, even the sky itself. I knelt beside him among rows of blue roses, their petals so vibrant they looked unreal, like something out of a dream.
I watched in awe as Azariel moved with a quiet confidence that made it so easy to forget how dangerous he really was. His tattooed hands—strong yet surprisingly gentle—cupped a rose stem as he showed me how to trim it without bruising the bloom.
It’s easy to picture him as a little boy with a permanent scowl, helping his father to tend to the roses. The thought made me smile.
“Like this,” he said, his voice low, soft. “Always cut at an angle. Gives it a cleaner drink.”
I nodded, imitating his movements carefully. Holding the rose felt as if he was giving me a part of him to care for. I held it the way I would hold his heart— if only he’d let me have it.
I could feel his eyes on me—watching me closely but not judging. Just… there. Caressing every part of me.
“How did you get them to bloom this color?” I asked, almost too quietly. “Blue roses aren’t exactly natural.” I was certain I knew what his answer would be, but I wanted to hear it from his lips.
He didn’t answer right away. I glanced at him, trying to act like I wasn’t waiting for something that felt huge and that could change everything.
He looked so different in the sunlight. No black suits today. Just worn jeans that hugged his hips a little too well and a loose, sleeveless white shirt that clung to his torso in all the right places. The cotton was thin, just enough to make my heart trip when I caught sight of the tattoos covering his chest and arms—inks of broken wings, bloody skulls, chains and other symbols I hadn’t had the courage to ask about yet. I had a feeling those tattoos are linked to his past life before Uncle Vitali and Aunt Kadra.
God, he was massive—built like dangerous storms and chaos in human form. Most people would probably find him intimidating, maybe even terrifying. But not me. There was nothing about him that scared me. Nothing at all.
He had muscles layered on top of muscles— hidden before his usual clothes, but now I saw them, every sculpted line and curve. His rugged beauty should be illegal. No one should be so damn perfect.
His black hair was slicked back and a thin silver chain rested against his collarbone, catching flashes of sunlight every time he moved.
He didn’t look like a coldhearted gentleman. He looked like a stone-cold criminal with an obsession with blue roses. And that was hot. Unfairly hot.
I made a mental note to add that detail to the plot of my book.
“I bred them,” he finally said, eyes still on the rose in my hand. “Took years.” The way he whispered ‘took years’ was as if he weren’t talking just about the rose.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
I know, heart. I can’t believe he’s real too.
“Why blue?” I whispered, needing him to say it. My fingers brushed my own hair that was dyed a deep, unnatural shade of cobalt blue.
I didn’t want to guess out of my ass, but I wanted to hear him say it.
He hesitated. Then he glanced at me, the corner of his mouth twitching in the faintest smile. Hold on, heart. Don’t go wild now. It’s just a smile but it wasn’t just a smile. It was a rare one and it was beautiful. “Because they remind me of something… rare and sweet.” His gray eyes twinkle and I swear I fell deeper into everything that is him. “And a little stubborn.”
There… he said it.
My chest tightened, and a smile spread across my face. Heat crept up my neck and bloomed in my cheeks—I was sure they were pink.
I didn’t say a word. I just looked up at him, meeting his gaze as he smiled down at me— thanks to our ridiculous height difference—and pretended he hadn’t just stolen another piece of my soul.
With just a smile.
With just a few words.
With roses the color of my hair.
Azariel took control over my every thought long after we left his garden. His husky voice lingered in my head like the scent of roses. I couldn’t stop replaying the moment he said “rare, sweet and a little stubborn.”
He meant me .
He not only accepted me as I am but he saw me. Really saw me.
And years? He bred them for years for… me.
All of this felt like a dream, and at times I caught myself worrying I might wake from it soon and that’s a thought too heartbreaking to bear.
Now, after spending my day with him, I sat curled up in a velvet chair by the window, my iPad resting in my lap. I’ve written two chapters in one sitting and I’m loving every word. Being here with Azariel has made it easier to dive into the romance aspect of the story. I even inserted some—okay maybe most— of Azariel’s qualities to the morally gray hero.
I hope my readers fall for him the way I already have. Yeah, he’s an ass—but my God, he loves his girl. The number of times I’ve caught myself cheesing like an idiot while writing their scenes is honestly kind of embarrassing.
If only my cousins, the heartless gang, could see me now. Talk about a plot twist they didn’t see coming or hell, maybe they did.
Speaking of heartless…
The iPad’s screen lit up with an incoming FaceTime call.
Artemis.
I answered with a swipe, and her face appeared immediately—blonde, bold, and effortlessly stunning. Her golden hair fell in perfectly tousled waves over her naked shoulders, her crimson lipstick giving her a dramatic look. She wore a lavender silk robe and her expression was dripping with amusement. Fake amusement. I can spot when my cousins are faking even through a screen.
“Are you done writing the story between you and your tattooed Dark Daddy yet?” she purred.
I smirked. “That’s all you got? Don’t tell me you’re losing your mean touch, Arty?
“Don’t call me that.” She bites back with a smile. “God, you’re so tragically poetic when you’re in love.”
Love?
Thud.
My heart perked up at the word.
It’s strange hearing it from someone else when I haven’t fully come to terms with it myself. I know I love him. There hasn’t been a day since I was five years old that I didn’t.
My love didn’t appear out of nowhere just because he did things no one else ever has. It grew quietly, slowly, over years— so quietly that I had to pretend it didn’t exist. But now, there’s no need to hide it.
I let that love live freely, and every day it grew stronger and more perfect.
“Ugh. You’re even daydreaming about his ass now. I’m disappointed, P. I really am.”
I rolled my eyes, even as a smile tugged at my lips. “Hi to you, too. And no, I haven’t finished the book. Yet.” Mind you I didn’t deny what she said about writing the story of me and Azariel.
“Please,” she scoffed. “We’ve all read your books. It’s obvious he’s the hero in every single one of them—dark suits, haunted eyes, American Psycho energy. If the hero on this one doesn’t keep a body or two in a rose bush, I’ll be shocked.”
“That’s actually a good idea. I need to add that. Maybe he can hide the corpse of the heroine’s cousin in a rose bush.”
Not going to lie. That didn’t sound so bad for a twisted plot.
Artemis’ eyes narrowed. “That’s not funny.”
I laughed, but it didn’t quite drown out the way my stomach turned when I noticed that something about her looked off. She didn’t laugh. My dark humor usually makes her crack a small smile.
I brought the screen closer to my face, that’s when I saw her eyes were duller than usual. The spark she always hid behind her uncaring facade was still there but dimmed. Her sarcasm sounded more like a shield than a joke.
“Hey, you okay?” I asked, lowering my voice.
Her ice queen smirk faltered just for a moment. “Me? I’m fabulous. Drowning in men, money, and the existential dread of being my parents’ pride and joy.” She winked. “Thanks for asking, though.”
Lies.
I leaned in. “Artemis.”
She exhaled, looking away from the camera and brushing her hair off her shoulder. “I-I’m fine, Poe. Just tired. Not everyone gets to waltz through enchanted blue rose gardens with a walking Greek tragedy in expensive suits and demonic tattoos.”
She said it lightly, but the bitterness was unmistakable. Not jealousy. Something heavier. Sadness. Tragedy.
Shit.
Artemis was… well uniquely her. She guarded her heart like a lioness ready to tear apart anyone who got too close. I love my cousins dearly and we joke and even tease each other but nothing will ever change the fact that I would do absolutely anything to not see them sad and right now it’s hurting me because I know she won’t let me in. She doesn’t let anyone in. Not even her parents.
I watched her carefully. I’ve known Artemis my whole life. She could charm, distract, and deflect with terrifying ease—but not from me.
And I could see it now.
Something inside was breaking. Badly.
She just would rather die than let me see the cracks.
I wait regardless, I wait for her to crack just a little and let me in. But she was a fortress, and right now, her walls were higher than ever. She wouldn’t budge. Not to me at least.
So, I didn’t push.
Instead, I leaned back in the chair, the sun setting behind the window, and said softly, “You don’t have to tell me anything now. You don’t have to share with me what’s hurting you. But I’m here, okay? I’m always here for you, Art. If you need to talk. Or scream. Or burn something down. Or bury a body. I’ll help you.”
I would too. No hesitation.
Artemis’ expression twitched a little, like my words had hit a place she didn’t want me to see. Yeah, my cousin was hurting. There was no doubt about that.
She looked away for a second, then back, her voice quieter now. “I know,” she said. “I know you are.”
She didn’t give me much. But it was something and it was real.
I’ll take it. Because it’s Artemis. Whatever she gives, I’ll take in a heartbeat.
She at times reminded me so much of Azariel. They’re both perfect to the world but deep down they have cracks they won’t let anyone see.
A soft knock on my door pulled me from the moment with my cousin.
Artemis noticed the knocking. Her eyes flicked sideways with no trace of that vulnerability I saw moments ago. “Is that your brooding boss?”
I smiled faintly. “I don’t know.”
She sighed dramatically. “Tell Dark Daddy I said hello, and that I still think he’s probably a serial killer on the loose.”
Dark Daddy… I just wonder what Azariel would think of that kinky nickname.
“I’ll pass it along.”
Her expression softened just slightly, and for a breath, she looked more like my little cousin and less like the armor she wore. “Hey, Poe…”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks,” she said, voice quieter now. “For not asking. And for… you know. Being there for me.”
“Always,” I said gently.
“I do love you.” She said through gritted teeth like the words pained her.
I smiled. “I know.”
She nodded once, then ended the call before she could say anything else.
When another knock sounded, I set the iPad aside on the nearby table and stood—already wondering if it was Azariel waiting on the other side of the door.
But when I opened the door, there was nothing but a large box, resting against the wooden frame of the door with a soft thud. My heart skipped as I crouched down to examine it. The box was wrapped in sleek, dark velvet ribbon, and the glossy black surface reflected the dim light from the hall.
I glanced around, but there was no one in sight.
My curiosity piqued, I lifted the lid carefully, the soft rustling of fabric filling the air. Inside, nestled against layers of black silk, was a stunning black gown. It shimmered under the light, elegant, and breathtaking. The fabric was rich and luxurious. I couldn’t look away from it.
Beneath the gown, wrapped in soft velvet pouches, was a set of silver and blue diamond jewelry. The pieces were breathtaking—small diamond earrings, a necklace that seemed to shimmer with magic all its own and resembled the chain around Azariel’s neck, and matching shoes that glittered like diamonds too. It was all beautiful, expensive, and impossibly… him .
I traced the edges of the diamond necklace, my heart fluttering, and then I saw it—a single blue rose, resting gently atop the gown. The petals had a perfect sheen that matched the elegance of everything else in the box.
There was also a letter, tucked underneath the rose. I hesitated for only a moment before pulling it free and unfolding it carefully.
Little Fox,
Come dance under the stars with me?
I’d be honored if you did.
—Azariel.
I let the letter fall from my fingers, my mind racing. The world around me seemed to blur.
He was asking me to join him. His birthday ball.
The one he hated but endured because he loved his mom. Of course, I’d join him. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking of his gaze, the way his lips had felt against mine. The memories of our time together—his small smiles and the light in his eyes— it was all pulling me toward him.
And then I saw it. Gray.
When I think of him I see gray.
My favorite color.
I took a deep breath and shook my head as I stood up.
My dark king was waiting.
I glanced at Prince, who had silently wandered into the room and was now perched lazily on the armchair. He blinked at me, as if to say, “Get gone already.” I couldn’t help but smile at him. “Alright, demon. I’m going.”
I took a deep breath, ran my fingers through my hair, and then, without another word and a heart filled with love, I began to prepare for his ball.