Chapter 72 – Azaria
AZARIA
Ihadn’t slept.
Dain had stayed until dawn—a silent, steady shadow in the corner of my sitting room.
When the first light crept through the window, he’d risen without a word, pressed a hand briefly to my shoulder, and left.
I’d sat there for another hour, staring at nothing, until the cold finally drove me to move.
The palace armorer had looked at me strangely when I’d asked for a warding bracelet at first light, but he hadn’t questioned it.
The silver was etched with suppression runes, and the metal felt cold against my skin when I clasped it around my wrist. A barrier against magic.
Whether it would hold against whatever Quinton’s blood had done to me, I didn’t know, but the silence it brought was immediate.
No tingling at the back of my neck, no hum beneath my skin. The runes seemed to be working.
Now I walked through the main gates of the palace with a measured stride, jaw set and eyes fixed ahead. The morning air had a bite to it, enough to keep me awake, not enough to wash the heaviness out of my chest.
I’d intended to ignore Elias and go straight to the wing, but he was already waiting for me in the corridor, arms folded, back pressed to the wall. The set of his mouth told me he knew more than he wanted to. He straightened as I approached, falling into step beside me. I didn’t slow or greet him.
“I assume you know what happened,” I said flatly, not meeting his gaze.
“Yes,” Elias said, quiet as ever.
“Great, so I don’t have to spell it out. And I will not talk about it.”
“All right.” He nodded, tone even. “Why don’t we have a round in the ring regardless? It’ll help.”
For a heartbeat, I almost brushed him off, but the steady look in his eyes wasn’t pity or concern. He was entirely unruffled by my foul mood. I jerked my chin in a nod. “Fine. Let’s go.”
We walked in silence down to the training ring. The rest of the world seemed to fade as I shrugged off my coat, rolled my shoulders, and stepped inside the circle. Elias did the same, feet planted, waiting.
I didn’t bother with a warm-up. The need to move, to strike, to feel something real drove me forward. We squared off, and the bout began without a word.
It was fast, harder than most mornings, sweat beading at my temples almost immediately.
I came at him quick and aggressive, my blows a little too heavy, too direct, but Elias met every one with his own quiet force.
He knew why. He didn’t try to talk, didn’t try to placate.
He fought, matching my pace, reading every shift of my weight, never letting up.
Blow for blow, block for block. I lost count of the rounds.
My lungs burned. The ache in my muscles drowned out the noise in my head.
When at last I stumbled back, panting, hair plastered to my face, Elias lowered his guard and offered a nod. “Good round, Captain.”
“Thanks,” I said, voice rough. I bent, hands on my knees, breathing hard. Sweat stung my eyes, but the edge inside me had dulled enough to function.
We walked back toward the common room together. Elias didn’t say a word, but I caught his gaze flicking to the rune bracelet at my wrist—warding lines carved deep into silver, faintly cool against my skin. He didn’t ask, and I didn’t explain.
Inside, the common room was alive with the morning’s usual chaos—banter, boots scuffing the floor, the clatter of mugs.
Kalias stood near the windows as a man, not a wolf—a rare sight.
He was dressed simply, arms folded across his chest, watching the squad.
Normally he waited for me as a wolf, padding to my side the moment I entered.
Today, he stood there, solid and silent.
I met his eyes for half a heartbeat and nodded once in silent acknowledgement.
The moment we stepped in, conversation thinned.
Heads turned. It was like someone had cracked open a window and let the cold rush through.
Zephyr was the first to break the silence. “Riiight, so… anyone else feel the urge to hide under the table, or is that me?” His grin was lopsided, meant to draw a smile, but it fell flat.
“Indulge us, Cap?” he tried.
I didn’t pause as I crossed the room. “I had a fight,” I said simply, “and that’s all anyone needs to know.” I moved toward Dain, who waited by the desk, a stack of reports in front of him.
Kael, never one to miss a detail, flicked a glance at my wrist. “And that shiny bracelet with the warding runes that wrap so gracefully around you?”
“A precaution,” I answered, crisp and direct.
Kael raised his hands in mock surrender. “Stars, you’re in a mood.”
I ignored him, flipping through the pile of papers Dain had sorted, scanning the top pages. After a moment, I straightened. “I’ll freshen up. Everyone, meet me in the training ring in fifteen minutes.”
I grabbed a fresh set of underlayers from my office, then ducked into the common room bathroom.
The door closed behind me, and for a moment, the noise of the squad faded.
I leaned over the basin, splashing cold water on my face, letting it sting away the sweat and the memory of everything I refused to let touch me.
When I looked up, my own reflection stared back—eyes cool, hair damp, jaw set. Calm. Composed. Untouchable, if only for a while.
When I stepped out, Kalias was waiting for me. The common room was empty, as everyone had already made their way down to the training ring. He stood with his back to the wall, arms folded, eyes steady on mine.
“What is it?” I asked, not quite hiding the tension in my voice.
“Would you like to talk about it?” His tone was quiet and gentle.
I scoffed, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. “Oh, you mean talk about how you, your wolf, Dain, Elias, and gods know who else all knew about his magic being attached to me, and no one bothered to tell me? Yes, go ahead, Kalias, indulge me.”
“Attuned,” he corrected softly. “And it was not my place to speak about it.”
I drew in a shaky breath, fighting the urge to snap again. “I’m sorry,” I said after a moment, my voice low, almost grudging.
“It is all right.” His voice held no judgement, only steady patience. “If you would like, I could explain the specifics of this bond. I believe it might help you understand more about the tether between you.”
I hesitated, then nodded. “All right.”
Kalias explained the bond in more detail, much of it repeating what he had already told Dain: blood magic had shifter roots, behaved differently from fae bonds, and once it attuned, neither side had any real control over it.
Something in his explanation snagged. “You said blood magic first manifested in the bat shifters. Are you saying he has shifter blood?”
Kalias nodded. “Every human born with blood magic had shifters somewhere in their lineage. Including Quinton.”
I went still. Shifter blood. He’d never mentioned it. “Does he know?”
“I cannot say. But the blood is there, however diluted.”
I let that settle, turning it over. It didn’t change anything. Didn’t make the lie smaller. But it was information I hadn’t had before.
“This isn’t what I’m upset about, Kalias,” I said, the words catching in my throat. “He lied to me. He hid the truth and then lied to my face when I asked. That’s what I can’t forgive, not the bond itself.”
Kalias was quiet for a moment, searching my face. “That is a different wound. I will not defend him for it. The bond does not excuse the lie. He should have told you.”
I exhaled, shoulders slumping. “Thank you for saying that. And… for explaining. I—“ I broke off, shaking my head. “I need to get through today.”
He nodded. “You will. You always do.”
There was nothing left to say. I brushed past him, back straight, and made my way toward the training ring, holding myself together piece by piece.
Training was brutal. I pushed them harder than usual, and no one complained. By the time I called the end, we were all soaked in sweat, breathing hard, and the noise in my head had quieted to a dull roar.
It was enough. For now.
The week passed in a blur of rain and routine. Fall was creeping in, the days growing shorter and colder. I hated fall—the damp, the darkness, the chill that clung to everything. I’d always preferred the sun and mourned the loss of long, warm days.
The squad fell easily into their rhythm—Kael all sharp wit and rolling eyes, Zephyr’s laughter carrying down the corridor, Lirael’s soft commentary threading between training bouts.
I kept to my sparring with Elias, who was quieter than usual these days.
Not that I minded. With the council in disarray and Dravareth’s threat growing larger, I needed space to work and room to breathe.
Kalias, always in wolf form now, rarely left my side. More often than not, my hand found its way into his thick fur, grounding me. He acted as my personal warmer—a comfort I didn’t mind one bit.
Squad reports piled higher each day, and with everyone required to file their own, I opted to work in my office whenever possible.
We needed more writing space, but I managed.
Sometimes someone paused in the doorway of the kitchen or the cloakroom, hovering a beat too long before moving on, but the bracelet held.
No pull. No phantom ache. I kept my head down.
Doors shut behind me; people wandered in and out, but I didn’t look up. I had my reasons. I always had my reasons.