68. Violette
VIOLETTE
The scent of freshly baked biscuits and other breakfast delicacies has been wafting into my bedroom for the last twenty minutes.
I was doing my best to make Levi and Azrael wait, but even I cannot withstand the temptation of crispy bacon.
Upon making my entrance into the living room, something in my chest twinges when I realize Levi is nowhere to be seen.
Only Azrael.
Tall, dark, and shirtless.
Glorious muscles on display, and pajama pants slung low around his hips. My throat is suddenly bizarrely dry. I clear my throat. Azrael’s gaze slides to mine. His perfectly coiffed, dark hair has a single tendril curling over his brow just so.
My eyes briefly hover on the angry wound circling his neck, though it appears slightly less gory than it did last night.
Azrael offers me a soft smile, his voice husky from disuse.
“Good morning, gorgeous.”
Merely laying eyes on this male has made me parched, and I’m forced to lick my dry lips.
The audacity of this male to be so handsome that it can affect one’s physiological state.
“Good morning. How’d you sleep?”
“Like a babe. And you?”
“Like the dead.”
He smirks.
“Where’s Levi?”
“Outside.”
A distant thunk is heard in the distance as confirmation.
A corner of his mouth twitches as his gaze returns to the pancake he expertly flips in the pan.
Thunk.
I narrow my eyes at him before making my way towards the front door. He couldn’t possibly be...
Thunk.
My hand closes around the doorknob. I should have braced myself properly, but my mind would not have been able to grasp the sights awaiting me on the other side.
Thunk.
I swing open the front door, and in the same moment, my jaw hits the floor. Hanging upside down from a high branch of my seldew tree is an enormous gangalarous, bound by its giant, rabbit-like legs, lethal horns scraping the ground beneath its head.
Already skinned and gutted, the fur hangs beside it, drying.
How Levi managed to catch it, I cannot fathom, but I also cannot find the will to inquire at this particular moment.
As though drawn by some irresistible gravitational force, my gaze lands on a shirtless, sweaty Levi just as he raises my axe above his head.
Time seems to distort as I am instantly mesmerized by the sight of his thick, tattooed muscles shifting, stretching, and contracting.
Levi brings the axe down with a quick burst of strength, splitting the large stump of wood in twain.
Sacred Fu?—
A suicidal insect flies into the back of my throat just as I remember to inhale. I am instantly overcome by a coughing fit.
Levi turns, face contorted with concern as he sets the axe down and jogs towards me.
“Jesus Christ, Vi. Are you okay?”
No.
I force myself to nod, attempting to turn away from him, as water streams from my eyes, and I proceed to hack up the remains of whoever attempted to make my lungs their personal fucking mausoleum. Levi’s large hand pats my back.
And just when I thought my humiliation couldn’t get any greater, Azrael appears in front of me.
“Hellish fuck, Violette, I didn’t think it would kill you.”
Bastard.
With nowhere left to hide, I face the doorframe, hunching over. When I’ve finally expelled the creature, I straighten, drawing in a few gasping, narrow breaths.
“I’m fine.”
Azrael and Levi exchange a doubtful look as they both rub soothing circles on my back.
What has my life become?
One moment, I’m a societal outcast quitting the brothel, destined to become a spinster and die alone—and in the next, I have two of the most beautiful males I’ve ever fucking laid eyes on vying for a chance to be with me and tending to my every whim.
Going on this road trip, I anticipated it to be mildly torturous for them. Not me.
How very naive.
Finally catching my breath, I muster a fragment of composure.
“Before we go, I just need to make one thing clear.”
Levi and Azrael remain silent, waiting for me to continue.
“I think it would be wise for us to proceed with the courtship rituals on our road trip.” I direct my attention to Levi. “I take it you aren’t terribly familiar with them?”
Levi’s eyes slide to Azrael. “He explained the basics to me.”
My brows leap in surprise.
Are these two actually getting along?
“Provide, Groom, Survive, Slay, Sex, and Blood. Am I missing anything?”
My heart stutters with realization and relief that he knows that there will be intimacy between Azrael and me.
Yet, here we all stand.
It’s a miracle.
Despite my attempt to stifle it, my imagination provides a salacious montage of all three of us performing the final courtship rituals.
Together.
My cheeks burn as I attempt to hide my shame and arousal by tucking a tendril of hair behind my ear. My voice is little more than a rasp.
“That’s the gist of it.”
Azrael arches a brow in question, making my heart thump all the louder, until he blessedly settles on an innocuous question.
“Is the order in which we complete them important to you?”
Levi’s eyes narrow at him as my words struggle around the truth.
“The tradition to do so isn’t…”
Levi’s look urges me to continue. “But?”
Just for once in my life, I don’t want to be impulsive.
I need them to prove themselves to me. Not merely their worthiness, but to witness the truth in their actions, and that it matches their words. That they won’t change their minds, that they will want me even when things aren’t easy or when we don’t get along.
And perhaps most importantly, that they aren’t manipulating me; that they won’t turn into monsters and beat me to a pulp if one of them grows jealous; that they will be honorable and loyal to me.
I need proof that I am not, for once, giving myself to the wrong person.
“I believe there is merit in doing so.”