Chapter 36 Azrael
Azrael
Present Day
A motion out of the corner of my eye caught my attention, pulling me back to the present.
Scarlett was signing again. “How…” Her brows furrowed slightly. “How…I—How…I…do?”
I signed back to her. “How did I do?” I said the words as I signed them.
She signed the words back at me twice before straightening, searching my eyes before her gaze fell to my lips.
“It’s beautiful,” I signed back. “May I keep it?”
Her face twisted in confusion as much as it was able. A scrunched muscle around her eyes, a miniscule tilt of her head.
“Did you not think I would want it?” I asked.
I almost hoped she kept this near complete stone-face she had.
You can’t train that into somebody. Not unless they went through the same things I had, and even I broke sometimes.
It’s why I integrated some of the things they did to us at the asylum into the training at Everett’s school.
Perhaps we would find someone out there who could perfect the stone-face, but for now, Scarlett was a pro.
Nobody—unless trained like me or the brothers—would ever be able to truly read her face if it remained as it was.
Which was another reason why she would be such a perfect little weapon.
“No,” she signed. “Why?”
“Because it’s beautiful,” I answered back.
She watched me for a long time before nodding. “Yes, you…” She paused with her finger pointed at my chest, thinking carefully. “May keep it,” she finished.
She never allowed herself to get irritated when signing.
She was determined, but in the patient kind of way, which was good.
Irritation and frustration only hindered a person.
If she kept a straight head and learned from her mistakes, there would be no stopping her from learning everything there was to know about the language. “Thank you,” I signed back.
I turned away from her bedroom and stepped into the other room, folding the paper up carefully and sliding it into the pocket of my jacket.
“Today we train for tomorrow,” I told her easily.
“They know what you are to me, who you will become, so they will feel threatened.” I turned back to her, pausing at the table.
“You must do what they want, little sinner. No biting, no grazing teeth, no drawing blood.”
Her eyes softened into fear, her hand sliding over her stomach.
Oh, how I hated seeing that look in her eyes. “Do you want me to show you the power you have?”
“You’ve said that before,” she began, her hand motions heavy. “That I would have power, but what power?”
“You need to pay attention,” I told her carefully, looking her directly in her eyes. “Listen to my words and don’t get distracted.”
A little crinkle formed around her eyes before it smoothed out.
“You’ll see,” I hummed, looking her over easily before my attention turned back to her eyes.
It was time for the next step.
With the grace of a snake, I pulled the blade from my cane, the handle was formed in the neck of the deer, which was why it looked so off-putting to those who saw it.
The neck was abnormally long, abnormally thin, for a true deer, the scruff of his pelt puffing out towards the base, fashioning a guard between my hand and the blade.
The blade itself was long, thin, and razor-sharp. So sharp, it could cut a hair in half down its length. I made sure of it every chance I had. It was also curated of tungsten, making it nearly unbreakable.
I felt the shift in the room before I saw it. I didn’t even have to look to know that her eyes were now cast down, her spine rigid, her breathing shallow.
I had never in my life allowed anyone to hold my cane. Not once since Alaric put it in my hand, but she needed to know the true power she held within her; the longing for blood that was as ingrained into her blood as it was in mine.
I set the hollow part of the cane aside and held it out to her, careful of the blade myself. “Eyes.”
It took her longer than normal for her eyes to lift, only to stop when they saw the blade. The fear in her eyes grew and grew, but her expression was completely blank. If I had been anyone else, I might not have seen a problem at all. Just a woman with no ability to feel a thing.
“Take it.”
The fear didn’t ease, and the hesitation grew. When she finally lifted her hand, her fingers were shaking slightly, her breathing so shallow, it was hard to believe she was still breathing at all.
She slid her hand through the antlers, wrapping her fingers around the neck.
I instantly wrapped my hand around hers, hearing her breath catch when our skin touched.
Despite the twisting in my own stomach, the warning of danger, I held fast. I couldn’t allow her to drop this blade because it was double edged.
If she dropped it, it would slice through her toes without even trying.
Her hand was as soft as I had envisioned it. Cold, thin, but strong. Mine encompassed hers so fully, I couldn’t help but wonder how her pussy would feel with the size difference.
“Tightly,” I explained and released the blade, letting her feel the weight of it.
Her wrist was weak, but I could feel her hand tighten under mine, see the way her eyes shifted, locking with mine in a way they hadn’t before.
The fear was still there, still burning in her mind, but I could see something else burning too. Another lock threatening to turn to ash.
“Power,” I told her, the blade several inches from my chest, “is something that ebbs and flows. You must learn how to let the oceans rise without fearing what they will do. Embrace the storm under your skin.” I lifted my right hand out between us, palm up.
“Let it rage but learn to control it in the moments it needs to be controlled.” I guided her hand, the blade slowly lowering to the palm of my hand.
“Control is what you need to strive for. You can have all the power in the world and still, it will be worth nothing without control.”
Never had I been cut by my own blade. Not once, but this was a show of power for her. A lock that needed to be undone forever.
We lowered the blade. “Watch,” I told her.
Scarlett’s eyes locked on my hand, not breathing at all now.
I found myself entranced by it too, watching the blade, my sacred blade, drift closer and closer to my skin, my hand tightening around hers, my lips parting, my heart slamming.
We slid it across my palm, the skin opening up immediately, the blade so sharp, I didn’t feel the pain for several seconds.
The pain went straight to my cock, the sight of the crimson blood dripping from my cut filling my vision. I hadn’t seen my own blood in a very long time.
Scarlett’s other hand appeared out of nowhere, hovering under mine, the blood dripping to her porcelain skin.
My eyes widened, my cock throbbing painfully as it spread across her skin, as she smeared it between her fingers.
It was so bright against her skin, so beautiful. It would look so divine covering her tits while I took her unforgivingly. I could already see it dripping around her neck, the chain tightening, the blood spreading…
My lip curled, my head pounding as I fought against my most primal urges and slowly fisted my hand.
“Power,” I purred, straightening, my eyes finding hers, finding how blown her pupils were, “lives within you. You have claws, little sinner, teeth. You can draw blood with every touch, just like me,” I sang, her eyes dropping from mine to the blood smeared on her hand as she adjusted her stance, trying to relieve the sudden ache I knew she felt between her legs.
“You have that power, but tomorrow, you will have to swallow it until the time comes. In this, we learn control over ourselves. Later we will learn how to control the people, the narrative. We will learn how to manipulate until we get exactly what we want.”
With that, I turned, picked up my cane, and slid it over my blade before releasing her hand and taking the cane from her. I set my cane on the table and undid my tie, wrapping it tightly around my hand, the pain and the images in my head only causing my cock to ache.
I had chains calling her name. Whips, blinding hot metal. I had so many ideas, and it was very quickly getting to the point where I was finding it hard to control myself, which was…unusual.
Was it because I had been celibate for so long? Was it because of the way her black soul emanated with mine?
Or was it simply due to the nature of what stood before us: lust of the highest degree.
Scarlett waved her hand, pulling my attention over. I quickly assessed her right hand, but she wasn’t even flexing it. It was red from the tightness of my grip, but it affected her none, it seemed.
“What is that?” she signed, gesturing down.
I knew exactly where she was pointing.
“Your…”
I straightened, picking my cane back up.
“Penis,” I signed back. “Yes,” I answered.
I didn’t wear tight pants, but I didn’t need to.
I half wondered if this was the first time she had seen it happen.
I wasn’t embarrassed, I didn’t feel such an emotion, but I was partially hoping that she wouldn’t bring it up until after I could take her as my own.
“Why does it do that?” she asked, the fear in her eyes almost completely drowned out by the curiosity of what she saw and the lust she felt from seeing and feeling my life blood.
“Lust,” I replied evenly. “Cocks are flaccid normally, but when a man is filled with an overwhelming lust for someone, blood flows straight into it, swelling it, making it grow until it becomes something men will give their life to save.”
Question filled her eyes.
“The male species can’t have an orgasm unless it looks like this.” I searched her eyes, feeling mine become hard and unforgiving, the chill creeping over my skin, that angry need for something as revolting as touch filling me.
And she didn’t flinch. Her eyes remained locked on mine, trying to swallow my madness whole. How brave of her. How truly insane.