Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
TOUCH HER & DIE
Azariel
“She was the calm in my chaos.”- P
I was wrong.
A laughing Poe was the second most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, but this Poe? The one who, despite her social anxiety, still found the courage to talk to complete strangers?
She was breathtaking.
A quiet kind of brave that wouldn’t let me look away from her.
That was a sight I’d never forget.
The “Cozy Nook” bookstore buzzed with energy, alive with the hum of excited readers clutching copies of Poe’s books, their faces lit up with anticipation. Like last time, the signing was a success—maybe even more so.
Poe sat at the main table, her smile bright and inviting, though I could still see a flicker of nerves in her green eyes. But she didn’t let it stop her. She greeted every reader with genuine warmth, took time to chat, scribbled little notes inside their paperbacks, and even handed out bookish merch as thank-you gifts.
I’d had my team design a promotional banner just for her, along with custom merch—book totes, character illustrations, little things to make the event feel like her world had come to life. The look on her face when she first saw it all was priceless. Worth every cent, every hour, every favor it took to make it happen. Her smile had taken over her face the moment she walked in, and it hadn’t left since.
Four hours later, and she still looked just as lit up as she had when she first found out she was getting another signing.
And me? Just like last time, I stayed back. Silent. Watching. Making sure everything ran the way it should and making sure no one even thought about hurting her in any way.
Because if they did, they wouldn’t get the chance to regret it.
I’m her sword and her shield in every way.
Another sweet laugh slipped from her lips and hit me like a knife straight to the heart.
Fuck, it hurt. In the best possible way.
And still, my eyes never left her.
She wore a long jean skirt with a thigh-high slit that revealed more skin than I was entirely comfortable with and judging by the way a few fucks couldn’t stop looking, I wasn’t the only one who noticed. The black turtleneck sweater clung just right, not only hiding the love bites I’d left on her collarbone, and tits but also matching me like we’d planned it. We didn’t.
Her long blue hair was swept up into a half-ponytail, with two strands left loose to frame her face perfectly, like she’d stepped out of my wildest dreams and fantasy.
She did her makeup differently today. More dramatic. Smoky eyes that draw you in, and a soft nude lip that made her mouth look even fuller, more fuckable than usual. She didn’t just look beautiful, fuck she looked like she was mine.
But I could also feel the subtle tension in her shoulders, the way she kept glancing at me as if she was looking for reassurance. I offered her a few smiles so she knew I was there and everything was going to be okay. She had no reason to be anxious. I was always there for her, even when she didn’t see me.
Always .
She tried to hide how nervous she was but it didn’t work with me. I’d always been good at noticing the smallest shit, shit people tried to hide, but with Poe? It was different. She didn’t need to hide anything from me and even if she did, it wouldn’t work because I can see right through her.
Every part.
I leaned against the table, watching her interact with the readers. My arms were crossed, my expression a permanent scowl, but my heart was full of her— of my Poetry.
She caught my gaze as she signed the last book for an older woman, and I saw her lips quirk up into a smile, her eyes softening. “What?” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “You know you look like a demon from hell when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
She pointed at my face. “Like that. Like you’re going to bite someone’s head off if they get to close.” she joked.
I flashed her a shit-eating grin. “I’d rather bite other things.”
“Shhh.” Pink bloomed in her cheeks as she looked around her. “Don’t be a perv.”
“Don’t get shy on me now, baby.”
She chuckled, shaking her head, and it made my heart squeeze, watching her so carefree. Yes, she had a little social anxiety and yes, she doubted herself at times but goddamn was she trying her best to not let that stop her. I was proud. Real fucking proud.
She continued enjoying her moment with her readers and time seemed to fly by. It always did when I was watching her do something that made her heart happy.
And once the last of the readers had left and the event was winding down, we stepped outside so she could take a break. I looked around for a place I could take her so she could eat. There were a few restaurants close by and a bakery too. I turned away for only a second to check what else was nearby, a brief lapse of focus, but that was all it took.
Everything happened to fucking fast.
Poe’s scream shook me to my core.
“Azariel!”
A terrified, panicked sound that came from behind me, and it sent a jolt of pure adrenaline through my veins.
I spun around, panic gripping me as I saw her, a large man with a black hoodie on was towering over her. He was holding a metal pole, and he was trying to drag her away, her small bag in his hand. Before I could even process what the fuck was happening, Poe was thrown violently to the floor, the sound of her body slamming against the pavement making my blood run cold.
Motherfucker.
I saw red.
I saw his blood all over my face and hands as I made him pay for even thinking of touching her. As much as I wanted to grab my knife and plunged it in his chest, I stopped myself.
She came first.
Always.
My body was already moving, my feet pounding the pavement, rage bubbling up so violently that it felt like my insides were on fire. I had no control. No thought. All I saw was her on the ground, struggling beneath him, and everything else faded into nothing.
I reached him in seconds. My fist connected with his jaw before he even saw me coming. His head snapped back with a sickening crack that brought me pleasure. I grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off Poe as though he weighed nothing.
“You just signed your death certificate, motherfucker,” I snarled, my voice low and threatening, the promise dripping with the venom of years spent guarding what mattered most to me. My heart. My Poe.
The fucker barely had time to gasp before I threw him to a nearby car, and I didn’t wait to see what happened to him. I didn’t care. I had only one thing on my mind…Poe. The fucker would have my full attention soon.
Turning toward her I saw that her head was bleeding. I saw the crimson stain soaking her blue hair, the sharp cut on her forehead. My chest constricted with a pain so intense I couldn’t breathe. I could barely think straight. Every second it took for me to get to her was fucking agony and it felt like an eternity.
When I reached her, I dropped to my knees beside her. “Baby,” I rasped, my voice trembling, barely controlling the rage inside me. “Look at me, Poe. Give me your eyes.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and my heart stopped. She was conscious. But she looked out of it, the blood trickling down her face making everything in me snap. “Azariel,” she whispered, voice weak, “I’m… I’m okay.”
No. No, she wasn’t fucking okay. She was fucking bleeding. The blood on her head was making me sick. My heart raced as I scanned her face, her eyes glazed with confusion and pain, and it felt like a weight crushing my chest.
Readers were gathering already trying to see what was going on. I needed to get her out of here.
I lifted Poe carefully, my hands gently cupping her body. “You’re not okay,” I growled. “But you will be. I’m getting you out of here.”
I could hear her soft protests, but I didn’t care. The only thing I cared about was getting her to safety.
I didn’t even look at the fucker I’d just thrown aside, didn’t care if he was still conscious, or if he was trying to get up again. I was already moving, cradling Poe to my chest like she was the most fragile thing in the world. She was. Fuck, she was.
Her head lolled against me, and I could feel the sticky warmth of the blood against my black shirt. “Keep your eyes open, baby,” I muttered, my voice strained as I started walking toward the car, my steps frantic. “Don’t close your eyes. Keep your eyes on me. Always on me.”
I was trying to keep calm but I was terrified. I took my eyes away from her for a second and she got hurt. Fuck. I didn’t know what I’d do without her. I couldn’t bear the thought.
A life without her? That was not an option.
“Azariel…” Poe whispered again, her voice barely audible. “I lied. I’m not okay. It hurts.”
That fucking broke me.
“Shh, baby. It’s okay. We’re going home.” My arms tightened around her, and I pressed my lips against her forehead, feeling the coolness of her skin and the heat of the blood on her skin.
I grew up craving the sight of blood. I didn’t find it repulsive like most do. Until now.
Until I saw it on her.
I reached the car and carefully placed her in the passenger seat. Her head rested on the seat, her eyelids fluttering as I closed the door behind her.
Then, before I got in, I turned to look at the bookstore, taking a deep breath, forcing myself to keep the rage inside in check for her sake.
Nothing else mattered now but her.
And I would make sure no one ever hurt her again.
Fucking no one.
The car came to a screeching halt outside the manor, and I barely gave it a second thought as I opened the door, rushing to her side. My heart hammered in my chest, every beat frantic, every breath ragged. Poe’s face was pale, her eyes fluttering shut more frequently now, and the blood that had stained her hair was beginning to soak through my shirt.
I carefully scooped her up, cradling her against my chest once more. The feel of her weight against me, her body soft yet fragile in my arms, nearly crushed me. I could feel the trembling in her frame, the faint shiver that ran through her every time she exhaled.
The doors to the manor opened before I even reached them, I stormed through, my pace fast, urgent, as I made my way to my room.
Once there I kicked open the door with my foot, moving swiftly inside, and laid her down gently on the bed. She winced as I adjusted her, and I immediately went to work.
“Stay with me, Little Fox,” I muttered under my breath, not sure if she could hear me. I grabbed a towel, soaking it with cold water and carefully pressing it to the wound, watching the blood turn the cloth dark.
Her lips parted slightly, her voice weak as she tried to focus on me. “How… how do you know how to do this?” she whispered, her eyes half-lidded.
The question, soft as it was, felt like an arrow to my chest. I didn’t want her to see the darkness in me, the part of my past I had hidden for so long, but she had a way of pulling the truth out of me without even trying.
I paused for a moment, my fingers hovering over her wound as I looked into her eyes—eyes that held nothing but trust in them despite the blood and the fear.
“I had to tend to a lot of my own wounds before Mom found me,” I answered quietly, my voice low and steady, but it carried the weight of years I’d never spoken of to anyone.
She blinked slowly, processing what I said, but before she could respond, I focused back on cleaning the cut, gently dabbing the wound with antiseptic. The sting made her wince, but she didn’t pull away. She trusted me to take care of her.
“Azariel…” she murmured softly, her hand weakly reaching out, the fingers brushing against mine. It felt like the world stood still in that moment, and I couldn’t bring myself to look away from her.
“I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” I said firmly, my voice hoarse with the need to reassure her. “I’m always here.”
I worked quickly, wrapping a clean bandage around her head, trying to keep my hands steady even as the thoughts of what could’ve happened—what almost happened—raged through my mind. But as I finished, I looked down at her, and the fear I had felt was slowly replaced by something else. Relief.
She was breathing. She was okay. She was with me.
Her eyes fluttered open again, her gaze locking with mine. “My hero,” she whispered, the words barely above a breath.
A soft chuckle escaped me, though it was rough with emotion. “Not quite.”
She smiled then, her face soft despite the blood on her skin. The smile that had always been so sweet made it all better. And I would do anything to keep it on her lips forever.
I brushed her hair from her face gently, my thumb grazing the soft skin of her cheek. “You don’t ever have to be afraid again,” I whispered, my voice thick with sincerity. “Not while I’m breathing and even when I’m not. You don’t ever have to worry again. I got you.”
Her eyes searched mine for a long moment, and it felt like time slowed down, the silence in the room growing heavy. Then, her lips parted again, and this time, there was something different in her voice—something raw, something unspoken that I felt deep in my bones.
“You’re... you’re everything to me, Azariel.”
I swallowed hard, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut. She had no idea how much those words meant. How much she meant. And how deeply I felt the same way. She was everything that mattered to me.
But instead of saying anything back, I bent forward, my lips pressing against her forehead in a kiss that was gentle—possessive, but gentle.
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again,” I promised, my lips lingering against her skin.
And in that moment, I knew I held my heart outside of my chest in my arms right now. She was in my heart and in my blood and I would burn this world down before I ever let anything tear her away from me.