109. Violette
VIOLETTE
Surely there is cheese in this tavern.
The moment I sink into the gloriously scalding hot water of the copper tub, I send my magic venturing to the tavern’s kitchen, even as tears of relief wet my eyes.
It feels like I’m stumbling in the dark with blind hands reaching, searching...
Victory bursts through me bright and powerful enough to steal my breath as I will a hot, fresh loaf of bread, someone’s half eaten brisket, and, sacred-fucking-heavens, a wheel of cheese into my too-few hands.
A choked sob of joy escapes me.
I nearly panic at my fleeting sense of indecision.
Gripping all three, I shove the brisket and cheese into my mouth first, biting off as much as I can as a hiccuping sob wracks my body.
Oh, gods. The glory is inconceivable.
How have I ever taken this for granted?
Never again.
Pure, undiluted tears of epic joy cascade down my cheeks as I chew—my mouth so full I can’t even fully close it.
Either of my males could burst in at this very moment to see me at my most unhinged, and it wouldn’t hinder an ounce of my euphoria.
With each bite, my weeping ever so gradually wanes, until finally, I’ve licked the last crumb from my fingers before patting my now protruding belly, so full I can scarcely draw a full breath.
Thank you, Akash.
And forgive me, whoever you are, for stealing your brisket.
Heaving a sated sigh, I sink further into the bath, willing away the soggy crumbs peppering the surface. It doesn’t take long before a familiar, but long-suppressed urge creeps in.
Gods, how I yearn to shift. Dipping beneath the hot water of the tub, I have to force it away as the sides of my neck itch from my gills trying to surface.
It’s been too long. I always go too long; it reminds me too much of my father; my past; everything I wish to forget.
Though, even if I wanted to allow myself to partially shift in this tub, the freshwater would make me ill, or kill me if I breathed it long enough. My mer form requires saltwater.
Still, after days of ice and snow, and only wiping the important bits with frigid river water, I’ve never been more grateful in my life for a hot bath.
Slowly, I exhale gradually through my nose in a stream of bubbles before finally coming up for air. I jolt, gasping in surprise when I see someone leaning against the wall across from the copper tub—Azrael.
“Akash almighty, you gave me a fright.”
I wipe the water from my eyes.
Somehow, Azrael is now dressed in dark leather trousers and a black linen tunic, the laces of which are loose and revealing the bronze skin beneath. Black tendrils and whorls that weren’t there before creep over the sides of his neck. The familiar hum of his magic presses against me.
Akash almighty–his magic.
His shadow!
Has a body?
Fear shoots through as my eyes flick towards the bathing chamber door.
“He’s fine, I assure you.”
The timber of his voice sounds the same as Azrael’s, but the cadence, the warmth—something is off.
Azrael—or whoever this is—sniffs, nostrils flaring. “Darling... why does it smell like a charcuterie board in here?”
Embarrassment heats my cheeks as I scowl. “I was hungry.”
The affection and mirth in his gaze is nothing short of disarming.
If it weren’t for the fact I could hear the subtle tones of Azrael’s and Levi’s voices on the side of the door, I might be more concerned... but it was only a few days ago that this version of Azrael was licking between my thighs. I have to remind myself this is, essentially, Azrael... isn’t it?
Fear prickles my skin. My magic coils tight.
“What is the time?”
A feline grin curls a corner of Azrael’s mouth as he hesitates. My heart thumps all the harder as I seem to teeter on this cliff edge of panic. Knowingness and delight make his eyes sparkle as he finally fills the silence.
“What gives birth only to kill its young?”
My sigh of relief leaves me in a rush.
“How the fuck did you get a body?”
Azrael’s grin turns coy.
“Am I no longer pleasing to you?”
My eyes narrow with suspicion as he continues. He’s evading the question, no doubt.
“We are almost entirely the same in every way. Shall I show you?”
Before I can muster a reply, he wills away his clothing.
My mouth dries in an instant. All fluids sent south as my core clenches and clit tingles at the mere sight of his nude form.
He’s... not wrong.
They are identical, except for the black shadowy wisps coiling and whorling over his skin like ink in water. My eyes narrow on them as I realize they are indeed subtly moving, shifting this way and that.
Naturally, my eyes drift lower—nearly trembling from the force I have to use to try and restrain them from staring directly at the gorgeous cock hanging heavily between his legs.
I fail.
It is indeed the same.
The same subtle upward curve that I know would press perfectly against my g-spot.
The same long, thick, deep bronze, silken shaft decorated with plush veins.
The same broad crown that deepens in color from the rush of blood.
I tell myself that’s the only reason my eyes are lingering—to compare.
For educational purposes.
Even as it becomes engorged before my very eyes.
What was I suspicious about?
I’ve forgotten already. All coherent thought is lost to dick-brain.
Gods, I’m no better than an adolescent male.
My pussy tingles with need and I have to consciously stop myself from licking my lips.
“Darling, if you don’t stop staring..."
My eyes leap back up to his. A subtle grin tilts his lips.
My cheeks are no doubt flamingo-fucking-pink.
I clear my throat, trying to settle back against the bathtub, only to sink further into it when I realize my nipples are half out of the water.
My brows knit together as I scowl.
“You did that deliberately.”
He chuckles. “Naturally.”
My lips purse in an attempt to hide my grin and maintain my scowl.
“Scoundrel. Perhaps you aren’t so different after all.”
He gives me a noncommittal hum.
The silence between us seems to make the air so tight you could cut it with a blade. The only sound in the room is the steady drip... drip... drip of the bathtub’s faucet.
That is until we hear dual masculine moans of pleasure from beyond the door.
My gaze slides from whatever corner I was distantly burning a hole through, to the door, as if I might somehow develop x-ray vision and bear witness to their sacred union. My core clenches needily at the thought.
Then to Azrael. Or... Azrael’s shadow, rather.
His brows lift. A grin teases a corner of his mouth. Mischief flickers in those amber eyes. “Scandalous.”
Ok, so maybe he isn’t all that different from Azrael.
“Shall we give them something to be jealous of?”
I choke on my own spit.
Spluttering, Azrael takes the liberty of rescuing me from drowning on a singular speck of saliva as he claps my back.
Sucking in reedy breaths, I watch as he steps into the tub, and sits across from me. Water sloshes over the edges from his enormous bulk. Lucky for him, the tub is meant to fit even the largest orc, so there’s enough room for us to both sit comfortably.
Too comfortably.
I manage to wheeze out the words, finally catching my breath.
“I’m certain that’s a terrible idea.”
Azrael grasps my feet and pulls them into his lap and begins to massage one.
My head immediately tips back on a moan as my eyes roll.
“Oh, fuck..."
The warm timbre of Azrael’s deep chuckle sends another lick of pleasure across my clit.
Yes, the mere sound of his chuckle is capable of such things.
And after trekking through the mountains for nearly five days, I am in no position to deny a foot massage.
Something firm grasps my other foot and begins kneading it. My head snaps back up to see his shadows have formed an identical set of dark hands.
Oh.
Oh my.
Oh... my, my, my.
I silently deliberate on a scale of one to ten how immoral it is to imagine what else those shadows can do.
Memories of him grasping my thighs and dragging my pussy over his mouth flood my mind.
And as if Azrael’s shadow can see exactly where my train of thought has wandered, he has the audacity to give me one of those offensively dashing grins.
I gulp.
His grin widens before his head tips back with laughter.
“Akash, you’re beautiful when you blush.”
This of course makes me blush further.
My clit aches harder.
Even as I feel some strange sense of guilt for sharing a bathtub with someone that isn’t entirely Azrael... ?
Fuck, I’m so confused.
“How much of Azrael are you?”
Azrael’s shadow seems to weigh this internally for a moment.
“I am him... but I am also not him. When Levi cut off my head and my incorporeal body was liberated, I began to develop a second consciousness. The more time I spent outside of my body, the more separate I became, but I am still me. He is still me..."
My eyes narrow, certain there’s more for him to explain. He sighs, scrubbing a wet hand over his jaw before he returns to massaging my feet.
“You know how we can only experience time in a linear fashion because we’re experiencing one of the lower dimensions?”
“Yes..."
“Well, imagine each person’s life is a singular thread sewn across a blanket of time, but my thread at some point split into two, weaving in different directions.”
There’s an absence of words as my mind illustrates this.
He squeezes my foot as if begging an answer.
“Wouldn’t I still be me?”
I shake my head, unmoored by this entire revelation. “I see your point... What does this mean for Azrael? Will you two divide his powers? You can’t just abandon him and keep them all for yourself.”
Azrael pauses, thoughtful. “It shall indeed be discussed.”
I frown.
The sounds of ecstasy echoing from the bedroom are suddenly grating against my rising anxiety—despite how much I yearn for them to fall just as deeply in love with one another as I have for them.
“How did you get a body?”
“I paid a visit to Persephone and Mors.”
Jealousy consumes me like hungry flames as I force my expression to remain neutral.
“And?”
A knowing grin curls one corner of his mouth.
“And we made a bargain.”
I blink. “Pray tell.”
Azrael’s grin widens. “Is my little seraphim jealous?”
“Fuck off.”
Azrael suddenly lifts one of my feet out of the water and bends forward, snarling as he pretends to bite it.
His teeth and fangs graze too lightly over the sensitive, too-ticklish flesh.
Peals of laughter erupt from my chest as I thrash, trying to squirm away, heedless of the water splashing over the tub.
His laughter joins mine, thwarting his ability to snarl like a beast.
Our eyes meet. Tension throbs between us.
Our laughter wanes.
He presses a lingering kiss to the inside of my foot all while still holding my gaze and I swear the amber of his eyes blazes brighter.
My heart flutters and my stomach swoops.
It is him, isn’t it?
Only he and Levi have ever made me feel these things.
Still, I won’t have my questions thwarted.
I press my foot against his chest, forcing him backward.
He grabs it as if to keep it there.
“So? Tell me what this bargain was about. Can she help you fix Ourinessa?”
Azrael sighs, expression thoughtful. “No, there’s only one person who can fix Ourinessa..."
I’m holding my breath waiting for confirmation of the answer I already intuitively know.
“I severed our soulbond in exchange for her blood and a corporeal form.”
My jaw drops, all thoughts of Ourinessa evaporating.
That was the pain Azrael felt in his chest.
“Don’t worry, I drank it from a chalice. That female couldn’t pay me to press my lips to her skin.”
The fire licking my veins sputters.
“... Do you ever miss her?”
Azrael arches a brow. “Look, we aren’t hostile towards one another anymore, but missing her would be like missing a snake for its venom.”
I study him for several long, scouring seconds.
“I’m not without my own venom.”
My own imperfections. My past. My failures. My weaknesses. My temper. My impulsivity. My pettiness.
Another feline grin curls his lips as his gaze grows devouring and he leans forward to drag me towards him. The action drags the tender tips of my breasts against the thickly muscled plains of his chest, dusted lightly in dark hair.
My heart thumps erratically. My arousal returns.
As does my hesitation.
“Darling, even when you draw blood, your venom is sweeter than honey.”