30. Willow
“Morning.” Azrael’s lips brush against mine as I begin to stir from sleep.
My eyes are heavy, the lids unwilling to open even as his kiss pulls me from a peaceful slumber. I groan in protest, clinging to him the way I always do in bed.
“Are you ever going to get up?” he murmurs.
“You only have yourself to blame for this,” I remind him.
This pregnancy fatigue has been no joke. Between that and the emotional purge and processing everything that’s happened since our union, I’ve been napping more than I’ve been awake.
Azrael has been nothing but supportive, always checking in to see if there’s anything else he can do to make me comfortable. He makes sure I’m fed, gives me massages every night, and treats me like a queen. He also treats me like his favorite toy when the situation warrants it.
While his wound healed, he built up so much restless energy he’s been inventing new ways to purge it at every opportunity. We’ve christened many areas around the property, bringing new life to the place, as he likes to say. But now that my belly is rounding out, my days of running through the forest are over, and he’s finding different methods to take care of me. Specifically, waking me up every day with a reverent mouth and tongue.
I’m not complaining.
“I can’t say that I’m sorry.” Azrael kisses his way down between my breasts, pausing to appreciate them before he palms my belly. “You’re beautiful like this.”
He tells me as much every day, never failing to be awed by the fact that he’s claimed me this way. Before long, we will have a child together.
Slowly, I force my eyes to open, squinting against the sun”s bright light. When I set my gaze upon his, warmth blossoms in my belly. I didn’t think it was possible to love him any more than I already did, but that love continues growing every day, and without any obstacles between us, the bond that tethers us has become unbreakable. This I know in my heart and soul. Together, we broke the curse. Together, we have created life, and our legacy won’t be one of tragedy but hope.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I arch a brow at him.
A lazy smile curves his lips as amusement dances in his eyes. “If I start that now, we’ll never leave the room. I have something I want to show you.”
I groan again, being extra dramatic. “But it’s so comfy here.”
“Trust me. It will be worth it.” He leans over me, his chest brushing against my nipples as he gives me a quick kiss then retreats.
“You did that on purpose.” I sit up resentfully.
Azrael laughs and shrugs, not even trying to deny it. He never does. The man has no shame. I watch him walk to the bathroom, the muscular globes of his bare ass on full display. He no longer bothers to sleep with clothes on since he knows I will just peel them off.
As I follow him to the bathroom, I feel like one of Pavlov’s dogs. He’s already started the shower, and he’s waiting for me with a smirk.
“What?” I ask him sweetly as I lift my nightgown and toss it aside. “Do you think you’ve won?”
His eyes don’t leave my breasts, which is answer enough. Within two minutes of me joining him beneath the hot spray and stroking his cock, he’s got me pressed against the shower wall, giving me exactly what I need.
By the time he finishes inside me, he’s made me come twice, and I can’t hide my smug smile as I start to wash him.
“I always win.”
“Or I always let you think that,” he muses.
I shrug because, regardless, I win either way.
Going about my business, I wash him like I do every day. When my fingers brush over the healing scar above his collarbone, I get lost in a familiar sea of emotions. Every time I see it, I’m reminded of how close I came to losing him, and with that comes a fresh wave of anger. I know it will take time, and at some point, there will come a day when Caleb’s marks on us will have faded so much he will never taint our memories again. But for now, we live with them, taking solace in the fact that he can never harm us or anyone else again.
“Hey.” Azrael tips my chin up. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
“I know.” I smile at him through watery eyes.
A beat passes, and as he’s learned to do well, Azrael senses exactly what else is plaguing my mind.
“You know she’s going to be okay, too, right?” he asks.
Raven.He’s talking about Raven.
“I hope so.”
I let the words settle between us, but the truth is, I don’t know. None of us know what really happened to her the day the Disciples took her. She hasn’t wanted to talk about it, and we haven’t pushed her, allowing her to process it in her own time. But I recognize the haunted darkness in her eyes. She’s closed herself off, shutting all of us out, including Emmanuel.
She’s numb, dissociated, and I don’t know how else to help her. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d give Emmanuel my blessing to chase after my sister, but after watching him pace the halls night after night, concern for her gnawing away at his sanity, it’s become evident that he truly cares about her well-being. The fact that she’s shutting him out right now has left him in agony too.
“We can go see her this afternoon,” Azrael suggests.
“I’d like that.” I nod.
We step out of the shower, and I can tell without checking the clock that it must be past ten. The cacophony of power tools and contractors has come to life on the opposite side of the house, the same as it does every day—another surprise Azrael is working on.
As tempting as it’s been to peek, I haven’t ventured into the dark wing yet. I want to see it as he intends it to be when the work there is finished.
He towels me off, and we slip on our robes, stopping short when we enter the bedroom again. Near the foot of the bed, Benedict is sprawled out on his cushy dog couch, Fiona curled up beside him with a smug little smile.
Azrael snorts. “So much for being enemies.”
“She’s being nice while he recuperates,” I tell him.
“Yes, that’s what she’s known for,” he replies dryly. “Being nice.”
“Says the man she sleeps beside every night.”
He pretends not to hear that, mumbling something about me getting dressed before we head to the closet and select our clothes for the day. I’m officially at the stage where I require comfortable outfits, which means I usually wear loose dresses or leggings and t-shirts.
Once I’m satisfied with my selection, Azrael leads me down the hall, pausing by Bec’s room. She’s playing music and video chatting with my sisters, something she’s been doing every day.
In the aftermath of Salomé’s death, Bec grieved the loss. Regardless of how terrible the woman was, she was still her grandmother, and I know she has mixed emotions about everything. But now, we’ve watched her as she’s started to blossom and come into her own, figuring out who she is under Azrael’s protective watch.
Both he and Emmanuel want her to have the life she deserves, and they are navigating the situation as best they can, trying to give her more freedom while also keeping her safe.
“I’m sure she’d love to visit with my family, too,” I tell him.
“I have a feeling we’ll be returning with a few more Wildbloods tonight,” he says wryly.
I wrinkle my nose at him. “You love it. We fill the house with joy.”
He laughs, taking my hand in his. “That you do.”
Once we’re downstairs, he leads me out past the gardens, but my footsteps falter when I see where he’s directing us. The statue of Shemhazai has been removed from the churchyard, but the memories that lurk there are still fresh in my mind.
“What is that?” I ask, staring at the white sheets draped over two large objects. They’re exactly where Shemhazai’s statue used to be.
“It’s what I wanted to show you.” He squeezes my hand in his before he wraps his arm around me, holding me close. “It’s a good thing, I think.”
It takes a moment for my feet to cooperate and move in that direction, tension still straining my muscles. I haven’t been back here since we both almost died. But I trust Azrael, and I know whatever it is he plans to show me can only be good. He wouldn’t bring me here otherwise.
“Here.” He stops when we’re a few feet away, rubbing my shoulders before he releases me. “Stay right here.”
Even though my stomach is in knots, I smile at his retreating back, watching as he pulls both sheets off at the same time. His large body obscures the view until he steps aside to return to me. It’s then that I see the white marble statues that have been erected in Shemhazai’s place. Their features are soft and unmistakably familiar. On the left is Azrael’s likeness, handsome and strong, just as he is now. From his back, two large wings emerge as he bends to caress the face of the other statue of a woman with long, flowing hair adorned with delicate roses. She’s beautiful, and I can do nothing but stare as I take in every detail of her, knowing that this is how Azrael sees me—that I am exactly this likeness in his eyes.
“What do you think?” he asks softly.
In answer, a sob wrenches from my chest before I can stop it, and I start blubbering unintelligibly as he pulls me into his arms. He comforts me, even though he doesn’t know what he’s comforting me for until I get myself under control. It’s a common occurrence at this stage of my pregnancy.
“I love them,” I sniffle, finally getting the words out.
Azrael breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I thought…”
His words drift off, but he doesn’t have to finish his sentence for me to understand.
“They’re beautiful,” I tell him. “It’s our legacy. Many years from now, when our grandchildren come to this place, instead of thinking about tragedy and death, they will remember our love. The love that broke the curse.”
“An enduring love.” Azrael brings his lips to mine. “Unrivaled by any other.”
Just as he says it, the breeze picks up, and something drifts between us, grazing Azrael’s shoulder before it flutters to the ground. He pulls away, his brows pinching together as he stoops to retrieve the fluffy white feather to examine it.
As he does, the energy in the air shifts, and I feel it. The presence of someone passed. Someone who wants him to know he’s at peace.
“Abacus,” I murmur as goosebumps break out along my skin.
Azrael’s eyes snap to mine, and the hope I see there warms my heart. “You think so?”
I smile, leaning up on my toes to kiss him once more. “I know so.”