23. Willow
Tension lingers between us as Azrael leads me back to the house, settling me into bed alone. He has no intention of staying, and I don’t know if that’s better or worse. We waited out the storm together in silence after I’d shrugged him off, the howling wind and thunderous booms shaking the chapel as if to prove we’ve angered the heavens.
A balance is yet to come due, and in the end, it will cost us both our lives.
We’ve been avoiding this reality, but now it hovers over us like a dark storm we can’t escape. My nightmares are increasing, the clock of doom flickering in my subconscious, an ever-present reminder that my time is limited.
There’s a part of me that wants to trust Azrael, to believe in what he says. When I look at him now, noting the anguish on his face, I can feel his pain. How he, too, is torn by this curse.
I have always believed in Elizabeth. I have always felt it was my duty to remember what was done to her. But for the first time in my life, I find myself questioning the bigger picture. The reason behind the curse. Even if she didn’t intend it to be so, she has cursed every chosen Wildblood woman with the hastily spoken words she uttered before her death.
Centuries later, we continue to die. And for what?
It was easier to believe in the sacrifice when I hated Azrael Delacroix. But every time I see him now, that hate transforms into something else. It’s been slowly ebbing away with every kiss, every stolen touch, every moment I spend in his presence, realizing he isn’t at all who I thought he was. Instead of being satisfied with the knowledge that we both will die, one from each family, to balance the wound inflicted, all I feel is inexplicable sadness.
I don’t want to die.
But I don’t want him to die, either.
It’s a bitter truth to swallow when it’s all I ever thought about before I married him. I thought it would somehow put my spirit to rest in my grave, knowing that he, too, would be gone from this world.
Now, the idea makes my chest painfully tight.
“Try to get some sleep,” he murmurs, showing me his back as he returns to the door.
I swallow, eyes blurring with unshed tears. I can’t bring myself to speak before he takes his leave. But I feel the loss of him. I feel his absence like a cold chill in the air around me.
Feeling my discomfort, Fiona settles on me, purring as I close my eyes and try to sleep. But sleep doesn’t come. Instead, it’s Elizabeth’s voice that arrives, louder than it’s ever been.
There are two paths before you, Willow. Listen, and your heart will guide you.
I let those words rattle around my brain, unsettled by the strange sentimentality in her voice. She’s only ever been cautious. Serious. But right now, she’s telling me to follow my heart, and my heart is telling me that there are enough enemies around me. I don’t need to make one of Azrael too.
I want to trust him, but can I?
I glance up at Fiona, and she returns my gaze with judgment in hers.
“Typical of you,” I mutter.
Seeming to predict my next move, she abandons me for Azrael’s side of the bed, leaving me to get up. I don’t bother with a robe tonight as I head for the door in my black silk nightgown. I don’t really care if Salomé sees me at this point.
Her light is on again as I walk down the hall, but I don’t hear anything from her room. I wonder what it is she does in there, then I wonder if I could ever sneak in to snoop around without getting caught.
Bec’s light is off tonight, and I hope she’s getting some rest for her sake. I noticed she looked weaker than usual today, and I’m truly worried for her.
I take the stairs slowly, pausing when I hear the sound of a door creeping open on the second floor. It sounds like it must be Salomé’s room. Light footsteps echo down the hall, and I linger in the darkness as I hear another door open. This time, I’m fairly certain it’s Bec’s. I wonder what purpose Salomé would have for going into her room in the middle of the night when Bec is surely asleep.
Something keeps me rooted to the spot, and I listen for anything out of place, but everything is quiet. Yet, I can’t deny this strange feeling in my gut. It isn’t just my dislike for Salomé. Something isn’t right here, in this house… in her orbit.
She’s the darkness in this place. She’s the one sucking the very life from it. I don’t doubt she’ll happily dance on my grave once I’m gone, but I can’t help wondering about her intentions. She’s so eager to be rid of me, to see me dead, when she knows history has dictated it will happen in due time regardless.
What is her hurry?
With that thought in mind, I close my eyes and ask Mother Goddess to protect the good in this house from evil—to protect us from her. Then, I slowly continue my descent, winding my way through the house until I’m back in the library.
A solitary lamp lights the room, an indicator that Azrael has been here, and when I press my ear to the stacks, I can hear the music again.
I linger there momentarily, my eyes drifting to the old tomes I wanted to examine. But the emotions of the day have been too much already, and right now, all I want is to speak to Azrael. To make peace.
I work my way along the shelves, pressing against each frame to see if anything budges. They all seem solid and unmoveable, and I’m not sure it will work. At least not until I feel one give slightly. It’s heavy and takes some effort, but with a solid push, it starts to turn, revealing a dark, musty corridor.
I stare into the abyss, goosebumps breaking out along my skin as I consider venturing down that path. I can’t see much apart from the light spilling in from the library that illuminates the stone. Beyond that, it’s dark, but there’s no doubt this is where Azrael is. The music is coming from the other end, loud and melancholy.
With a deep breath, I steel myself and set out along the corridor, my bare feet slapping against the cold stone floor. The journey feels long, and the energy shifts as I venture further into this part of the house. It’s different here. The memories of a family that once existed within these walls still linger. I can understand now why Azrael comes here late at night when he’s restless.
When I reach the end of the corridor, the entrance to the piano room beckons me, but I find myself stopping in the doorframe, eyes moving over the sight before me.
Candles flicker throughout the space, casting a soft glow over the imposing man in the center of all of it. His large frame moves in tandem with his fingers as they float over the keys with a haunting proficiency.
The melody is one I don’t know, but it’s beautiful and gut-wrenching all the same. It’s strange how powerful music can be. I’ve always known it, but seeing him this way makes me feel something I can’t explain, like we’re bound together in a way that makes me feel his pain. It’s something I’ve only ever experienced with my own family.
But this connection is stronger. It’s a pulsing, electric beat in my chest. The string of fate wrapped around my wrist, tugging me in whichever direction he moves. It’s a voice whispering in my ear.
Go to him.
I do.
It takes me several steps into the room before he looks up, his eyes catching mine. His shoulders stiffen at first glance, and a flicker of vulnerability moves through his gaze. He didn’t expect me to see him here.
“Hi.” I offer him a nervous smile.
“Hi,” he echoes. “What are you doing down here?”
I move closer, my hip brushing the curve of the piano as I enter his orbit close enough to smell his cologne but far enough to guard my heart if he rejects me.
“You left me alone,” I murmur, my words betraying the emotion behind them.
His eyes darken, fingers reaching out to wrap around mine. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“It isn’t.” I stare at him, my voice little more than a whisper. “It isn’t at all.”
His eyes move over my face, and with a jerk of his hand, I’m standing before him, pinned between the piano and his muscular thighs.
“Do you have any idea what this does to me?” he asks roughly as his fingertips graze my face, down the length of my neck, before dipping to my hard nipple poking through the silk of my nightgown.
“What?” I croak.
He responds by dragging his finger along the hem to my shoulder strap, pushing it to the side before he repeats the action on the other side. The material slides down over my skin to gather around my waist, baring my breasts for him.
With a growl of satisfaction, Azrael grabs a handful of my ass, holding me in place as he dips his head forward to suck my nipple into his mouth. A whimper escapes me as he pulls me forward, mauling me with his teeth and tongue.
“Azrael,” I pant, my fingers reaching up to tug his hair.
“I know,” he rumbles against me. “Fucking Christ, I need to be inside you.”
The piano”s keys play a chaotic tune beneath my ass as he tips me back, using the instrument as leverage when he stands abruptly. He grips my waist with one hand, balancing me while the other reaches for his zipper.
His cock is a solid weight in his palm when he retrieves it, and he wastes no time before he nudges it against me. I’m already wet for him, and my body accepts him greedily when he thrusts up inside me and I wrap my legs around him so I feel his full length.
I cry out, fingers clawing into his back as he mauls me with his mouth. It’s a brutal kiss, one full of need like I’ve never experienced. I know he feels it too. This thing between us is growing. Changing. Tethering us together. Is it the curse wrapping its claws around us, or is it something else?
He’s barely touched me, and I’m on the verge of coming undone. But I can’t. Not until I know the truth.
“Wait, Azrael.” My lips retreat from his, and he glances down at me, eyes full of torment.
“What is it?” he asks, his body slackening against me, his cock pulsing inside me even in stillness.
“Promise me,” I whisper, “that I can trust you.”
His eyes flash, and he tips my chin up when I waver in the silence, forcing me to keep my eyes on his. “You have my word, Willow. As long as I live and breathe, I will protect you. I will keep you safe.”
I gulp back my emotions, nodding as I press my lips against his. “Okay. Then I believe you.”
He grunts as he thrusts into me again, deeper and harder than before. It isn’t sweet. It’s primal. A claiming. A different mark of ownership. One that I’ll feel everywhere tomorrow.
The first orgasm rips through me with an intensity that travels all the way to my toes. I barely have time to catch my breath before the second is chasing after it, and I don’t know how it’s even possible, but he gives me another. And another. He fucks me endlessly for what feels like hours as he shifts me around, positioning my body in ways he seems to understand will give me exactly what I need. He drapes me over the top of the piano, his large palms swallowing up my hips as he fucks me from behind. When my legs are on the verge of collapse, he picks me up and settles us both onto the bench, face to face. He rocks me down against him while he kisses me, our teeth clashing, breaths mingling, hearts beating wildly against each other.
I can’t look away from him, and he sees it. Does he feel it too? Does he feel this thing between us?
“Willow,” he grits out my name between his teeth, tension ratcheting in his body.
I kiss him. I kiss him like I’ll die if I don’t. It sends us both spiraling together, his fingers digging into my skin. Our breaths are fire in our lungs as he comes inside of me, pulsing violently as a sound of agony tears from his throat.
I feel it, then, that same question he’s been asking of me.
What are you doing to me?
I don’t give voice to it, but I don’t need to. Azrael recognizes it in my eyes as we stare at each other, coming down from the high, the only sound between us our ragged breaths.
We stay like that, tangled up in each other, neither of us willing to move. His palm rests on my back as I nestle against him, breathing him in. Exhaustion weighs heavy on me, and I know there are still discussions to be had. I want to talk to him about Bec and Salomé going into her room at night and so many other things, but I can’t seem to move. The longer I lay there, sagging against him with the strength of his body supporting me, the further those thoughts drift away until there’s nothing.
Nothing but silence and bliss as I fall to sleep in his arms.