Chapter 11 #2
“What are you doing?” Xol asked again, her eyes trailing down, taking in Azahara’s appearance. “You are in your sleepwear.”
Azahara narrowed her eyes, “Yes, good observation.” The nightgown she had on was not the best for anything but sleeping in. It hugged her thighs and was held up only by thin straps, its fabric clinging to every curve of her body.
Xol, who was highly aggressive, stepped against her, “Go back and change at least.”
Heat rose from her stomach straight to her face, “If you don’t like it, don’t look.” That seemed to throw Xol off, and she took a step back.
“Azahara!” The joyful screech belonged to Alyse.
“How about I find out if anyone else has a problem with it?” Her anger was translating in her tone, and for the first time, she didn’t care. “Alyse!” Calling to the Captain while still looking at Xol, she strolled around her, “Do you care if I’m in my jammies to drink with you?”
Azahara went down the few steps and saw nearly the entire crew, “Does anyone?—” Quickly, she raised her hand towards Zephyra, “Not you or Tillin; I don’t care about your opinions.”
There were bursts of laughter that came with her quip, and Alyse was there, her arms wrapping around her neck and squeezing her tightly.
“No, who cares! Half of the crew gets naked in front of each other. Plus, you look amazing!” She had already been drinking, and Azahara was ready to be that drunk.
With fervor, she grabbed a tall green bottle, placed her lips at its opening, and threw her head back.
Immediately regretting the large gulp, she scowled, nearly spitting it right back out. “Oh my – what is this?!” The back of her hand was over her lips, trying to avoid vomiting immediately.
Another round of laughter, and she turned to see Alyse sheepishly rubbing the back of her head. “We can’t necessarily afford the best ale here, okay?”
“Next stop, I’m getting us some better stuff. This is—” Taking another swig, which wasn’t any better than the first, she grimaced. “This is fucking disgusting.”
That was the last round of laughter before she started chugging bottle after bottle. She didn’t even care about Xol or Jayce; her eyes were glued to the liquor, downing it straight, feeling it go into her belly, and then rising to her head.
It became her sole escape from thoughts of him.
The idea of resorting to a drug for solace was something she despised, and she had dreaded this moment, fearing that losing Kaed would be too agonizing to bear.
Yet, here she was, drinking not to find sleep, but to erase Goddrick from her mind, or more accurately, to vent her frustrations about him.
“Then, you know what he said. He said,” she hiccupped, “You are mine. If I must wait a millennium, then so be it.’ How desperate can a god be?
!” It wasn’t funny then, and truthfully, it shouldn’t ever be funny, but the liquor and the way she deepened her tone to mock the god had everyone bent over in laughter.
Spotting Jayce from the corner of her eye, she noticed he was not.
Azahara fell into step, telling everyone what Goddrick had done to her.
How she had told him to fuck off and denied his advancements over and over for five hundred years.
She was animated, drinking more as she spilled every detail of her life around that despicable god.
Not every single detail, but close enough.
She left things out like him taking her uterus like a toy she had outgrown, and other sensitive memories she never wanted to know herself.
“What a fucking prick. How can anyone worship those fucks—” Alyse slurred, leaning on Azahara, as if she wasn’t also seeing three of everyone. “I hope he burns in Oblivion!”
Everyone cheered, and while Azahara did, she also tossed her middle finger straight into the air.
“Oblivion would be too good for you,” she whispered, returning her fifth bottle before tossing it where the pile was stacked high.
She stumbled back as Alyse yelled at Darian to play music for them again. He had stopped to listen to Azahara ramble. Zayne also had a violin and joined in on creating lively, upbeat music for all of them to dance to.
Jayce was there, his hands on her arms, keeping her stable.
She leaned her head back, pressing it against his chest and staring at him. His expression was flat, and she wondered what he was thinking. “Hi.” She spun, pulling her arms from his grip but not stepping away. “You going to drink with us, or scold me all night?”
Watching his throat bob, she raised an eyebrow, “Do I make you nervous, Jayce?”
“No,” He sighed, “You don’t.”
“Good.” Just as she was about to reach for another bottle, his hand swiftly moved down her arm, intertwining their fingers.
Every inch of her skin rose with bumps, and she gasped. “Do I?” His voice was captivating, completely enrapturing her. His other hand came around her back, resting it behind her neck and pulling her to him.
“Yes,” she said breathlessly, and it made him let out a soft, feathery laugh. The heat in her face that the liquor had caused now tripled with his proximity to her.
He leaned down, his lips against her ear, “Good.” As quickly as her body had filled with the sensation of him, it was ripped away. Jayce released her and stepped back. Her mouth was left open, and she cursed under her breath, feeling her stomach tightening.
She watched him through veiled eyes, a hint of mystery dancing in her gaze, and the corners of her lips uplifted ever so slightly. Whatever he saw turned his confidence in leaving her alone, to ash in the wind. It seemed like regret filled him, and she was determined to make him wallow in it.
Before he could gather his thoughts and return to her, she redirected her attention to Théodore, her voice laced with a playful tone, “Care for a dance?” He did not hesitate as he eagerly took her extended hand into his.
All things considered, Théodore was a great dance partner. While drunk, she would have had difficulty guiding them in rhythm, but thankfully, he could keep up. The music was upbeat, which made things a bit easier.
Poor Théodore, though. Alyse barely let him get through a single song before she was butting in and taking over.
Tessa even joined them, welcoming the warmth between the two women.
It would have been apparent then that she was comfortable with all bodies, the way her hands met every inch of Alyse and Tessa as they rolled their hips together.
When the songs would pause and move to a different beat, the three of them took a second to drink more, even if they genuinely didn’t need it.
Well, maybe the two of them didn’t, but Azahara did.
Flashes of the Idle Fox plagued her occasionally, and she’d find herself shaking away the memory and throwing back another drink to dismiss the pain.
She was proud of herself that she never shed a tear nor felt the burning sensation behind her eyes. It was likely due to the liquor, but still, she was grateful.
Xol, who she hadn’t seen since trying to stop her from coming out in her jammies, stepped in between them.
Azahara raised an eyebrow, “Yes?”
“You are a fascinating creature.”
“Did you just compliment me?” Azahara put an arm around her neck and grinned ear to ear, “Because it sounds like you did!”
A fit of laughter escaped Azahara, and Xol placed her hands against her hips.
“I guess I did.” There was little emotion, which heavily reminded her of Zhal.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that the strange affection that Xol was giving her was not out of lust. It felt like she was trying to protect her from an unknown threat.
Jayce had some issues with Xol, which she couldn’t place. Even now, as Azahara tried to dance with the colorless woman, he burned his eyes at her.
Leaning closer to Xol, she slurred, “Why does my grumpy Jayce not like you, hmm?”
“He thinks I can’t be trusted around you.” She leaned closer to her, and she could see Jayce step toward them. “When it is he that I do not trust around you.”
Azahara leaned her head back and grinned. “You both are so weird.”
Somehow, that made Xol smile, “You have no idea, Little One.”
Her drunken state prevented her from fully grasping the words, so she just nodded as if she understood every bit coming out of her mouth.
“May I?” Jayce was there, slipping his arm between them and forcefully dragging her to his chest.
Azahara let out a grumbly sound, “Guys, there is enough of me to go around. Please don’t fight.”
Xol pressed herself against the back of Azahara, “Don’t test my resolve—”
“Xol.” Jayce was quick to cut her off, “Don’t.”
“Mom and Dad are fighting again!” Azahara raised her voice and slipped her hand between Jayce’s arm, snatching another bottle and bringing it to her lips. “I think they need to be the ones drinking.”
Alyse and Théodore laughed and simultaneously agreed, “Here, here!”
Azahara looked up at Jayce; his hazel eyes were peering down at her. The lights of the lanterns flickered off his taupe skin, only accentuating his handsome features more.
After taking another drink, she handed the bottle to Jayce, and to her surprise, he downed the rest without even flinching. Her gaze traced a path of liquor down his chin, tempting her to lick it, but she mustered the strength to simply raise her hand and wipe it away with her thumb.
“I really dislike you,” she told him as he placed the bottle down.
“I couldn’t tell.” He adjusted her to face him, one of his arms wrapping behind her back, the other resting against the side of her neck. “Can I ask what I did this time?”
Fighting a smile, Azahara placed her arms around his torso, “It isn’t anything you can control, but,” she groaned, “it’s because you are so damn good-looking. It’s frustrating.”
That seemed to surprise him, and a chuckle slipped out. A throaty, deep one that made Azahara roll her eyes and put her forehead against his chest.