Chapter 35 - Azrael
Azrael
I gestured for the couch before finally releasing her chin. It took a moment for her to release the cane, as if she was using it to anchor herself to this moment.
My eyes tracked her as she picked up the rabbit and held it to her stomach on her way to the couch.
She had done well, holding my gaze after years of looking at the ground, but it was time to push her.
She was strong enough to be pushed without breaking, and I intended to push as hard as I could.
Now wasn’t the time for games, for hesitation, for coddling.
I had stolen the Blessed One from the church, I suspected, even if they still had no inkling of who I was, that they would start whispering, wondering why I had come to the church, worked my way into the transporter job, paid far more than the church was worth to purchase the hand of Scarlett Harris.
And I was sure those whispers would eventually get back to the Elders, to the Founder.
Which meant that there wasn’t time to coddle. I was going to push her with everything I was, and she would not shatter. She wasn’t allowed.
For the next few days, I planned on coming over and teaching her how to communicate effectively until she was able to find her voice again.
Perhaps her new voice would be found in her hands rather than her throat.
I didn’t care how she learned, she just needed to learn.
We needed a more in depth way to communicate.
A way to have real conversations. A way for me to hear her voice as well as I could read her thoughts.
I joined her on the couch moments later. “A couple of hours a day should do you well in your communication skills,” I began easily.
Her brows furrowed ever so slightly before smoothing out.
“I’m going to teach you more sign language,” I explained, setting my cane to one side. “While I do this, you will watch me. I will not tell you the motions I am making, you must watch. It’s good to exercise your new line of sight.”
It took her several seconds to comply, which I expected, and her eyes didn’t meet mine for more than a second before they fell to my lips. That was also fine. Not many people could look me in the eyes. Even my own brothers had trouble holding my gaze, although she had done well since my arrival.
There were many words I wanted to teach her, but there were also words I refused to teach her. Sorry, for one. She would not learn to apologize when there was nothing to apologize for. I would not allow her to get into that habit.
Mercy. She would never need that one. Not in my world.
But for right now, we needed to start with the basics.
“We’ll learn the letters first,” I explained.
“Some words don’t have signs to go with them, most commonly, names.
They are spelled out until you find a word that best describes your name, for instance, your name is Scarlett.
” I signed the letters slowly, saying the letter as I signed it.
“Or you could simply say ‘Red’.” I placed my index finger on my bottom lip and pulled it down.
She watched the motion slowly, her mind working before she straightened and held up her hand, signing the letters to her name before signing ‘Red’.
I nodded. “Good.”
A bare spark of a smile touched one corner of her lips before it disappeared, pulling my eyes down to her lips before they found her eyes again.
I couldn’t help but wonder if it was habit not to smile in front of people because I had seen her smile while dancing around the room.
It was etched into my mind like lighting marring a tree.
I knew she could do it, but did she know she could do it?
“Let’s go over the entire alphabet. That will be our lesson today.
I expect you to practice relentlessly when I am not around. ”
An hour later, she was signing the entire alphabet with ease, spelling out her name and mine, her eyes finding mine when she finished with the letter ‘L’.
I could see joy lighting up her eyes, although the smile was still hardly there. A little curve of her lips, but nothing more. That would take longer to force in front of people, I think. Up until now, she has had nothing to smile about.
I didn’t mind giving her reasons to do so.
“Good,” I told her just as my phone began to ring.
My personal phone. Normally, I would ignore it, but with the build of my house going on, I didn’t have a choice. If there was a problem, then it needed to be dealt with. I immediately excused myself, telling her to practice, and walked into the kitchen.
It was Bishop.
“Yes?”
“How is the bike treating you?”
“I haven’t tested it out yet,” I replied. “She’s not ready.”
“When have you ever waited for them to be ready?” he asked me.
“This one is different.” I glanced back towards the couch, watching her spell out words with ease.
“You’re keeping her around then?”
I turned towards the sink. “She has information I need to complete my assignment. It’d be a waste if I broke her before I got what I needed.”
There was a rev of an engine and then it quieted. “We’ve had a couple of those in the past. Chaining them up usually helps.”
I felt my lips flick up. “I plan on it. How is the house going?”
“Havoc and Alaric are making sure things get done to our specifications. We even added in some surprises for you. A place of business and pleasure.”
I’ve been looking for an upgrade. “Get the cross from the bunker and move it over there. It’s always given me luck.”
He chuckled. “You always were a sadist.”
“Nothing compared to you,” I hummed. “Careful, blood soaks it far deeper than the one bearing their precious God.”
“Good, perhaps we’ll take it for a test run.”
“Be my guest. Soak it in the sins of whomever you feel worthy. The house needs to be ready by the 2nd. We’re moving in on the third.”
“Done. We expect a healthy return.”
“You may use the house whenever you want, for whatever you want, along with my other resources.”
“Awe,” he cooed. “You’ve never been one to share.”
“Times change,” I replied just as a sound met my ears.
I turned towards the couch, finding it empty. My brows furrowed as I headed for her bedroom, glancing towards the empty bathroom. Her bed was empty too.
My eyes found the closet, the door shut, and I felt my heart skip, my cock throbbing. “The 2nd.”
“The 2nd,” he confirmed.
I hung up, shoving my phone away as I stepped up to the door and slowly crouched down.
I heard her hitched breath, the shuffle at the bottom of the closet.
My cock throbbed again, thinking back to how worked up she had been earlier.
Pressing her thighs together, her fingers itching at the hem of her dress.
She must have not been able to handle it, which I could understand.
She was new to this, and once a person learned how to rid themselves of an ache, it could become addicting.
Her panting seeped through the door, and I could hear her writhing, the shoes moving.
I could feel the muscles within me tense, my heart beating just a hair too hard. She had no idea what she was doing, so calling her a tease wasn’t fair, but wasn’t she? Wasn’t she teasing me? Trying to pull me in, to…taunt.
I worked my jaw, trying to shove the thoughts away as I reached up, slowly pushing that door open.
She was lying on her back on the ground, her knees up, her hand down the front of her sweats, her hips grinding against it.
My eyes lifted, my cock aching painfully. She had her other hand up her shirt, squeezing on her breast, pulling a little, twisting, her back arching up.
Her lips were parted, her breath coming out in short pants. She caught her lip between her teeth, her eyes closed, her face twisting, furrowing, her body shaking.
It was an effort not to wrap my hand around her throat, jerk her out, pin her down, and fuck her good and hard. Fuck her like the sinner she was while she offered up her blood to me unable to help herself.
My knife suddenly felt like a weight. Her blood would be so beautiful spreading across her porcelain skin. “Hello, little sinner.”
She jerked, her eyes flashing open, tearing her hands away from herself quickly as she scrambled back against the wall.
Her wild eyes found mine for a second before falling to the floor, her skin bright red, shame filling every inch of her.
Shame? No. There would never be any of that. Not in my world. “If you’re going to do it, then do it,” I told her, my voice a low threat. “Show me what the talk of blood and death does to you.”
Her throat bobbed, her heart racing in that pretty neck of hers.
“Lay on your back, Scarlett,” I told her, fighting the urge to touch myself. To even adjust myself. I’ll take the pain forever if she keeps doing that.
Her eyes lifted to mine for half a second before she started readjusting herself onto her back. Was it right? Was she doing it because she wanted to or because she couldn’t yet say no?
At the moment, I didn’t care. All I wanted was to see her body writhe in need.
When she was settled, I inched a little closer.
“Slide two of your fingers back into your pussy and grab your tit. Don’t worry about the church, about what they’ll see.
This is only for us. Only for me. For the blood you want to spill, and I know you want to spill it, doll.
So do what you were always meant to do; drive the sword into their precious beating hearts, release them from their tar.
Let the blood flood the halls,” I hummed, watching as her eyes fluttered closed, her hands flexing again.
“Let it cover us in warmth.” Was it just my selfish inhibitions or was she far more ready than I assumed she would be given the circumstance?
Was I putting a little too much cub into this scenario? Had I let their bleeding hearts fill my cavernous chest?
That would need to be corrected.
Her lips parted, one hand drifting back to the hem of her sweats.