Chapter 28 #2
“Good!” Aziel’s voice was calming, breaking into her worried thoughts. “Keep your focus, love. It’s almost over.”
With her instinct being her only guide, Nymiria turned to the Soul Eater, letting her magic flow from her core to the tips of her fingers. She shoved. Again and again, she shoved her magic in its direction.
Nymiria tried not to think of this creature as being a part of Aziel.
She tried not to think of this as a battle with him, but rather something else.
Something completely separate from his realm of power.
She could feel his desperation, the anger radiating off of him and the absolute helplessness he felt.
He was doing everything he could to combat his own power, but he could not interfere.
It was up to her—she had to be the one to do it.
“I’ve got her!” Aziel called out.
A small cry filled the air, but Nymiria was still trying to fight the creature off. It moved wildly against her light, wailing and screaming as if being burned. Looking into the face of it, its maw unhinged, she saw rows and rows of what should have been teeth…
But were faces.
White skull-like faces with open mouths, all of them screaming, all of them with bloated tongues and bulging eyes.
She could not stop the scream that escaped her. Still, as everyone behind her rushed around the room, she held strong. She tried to shove away the fear she felt looking at the face of death—tried not to think of how this might be the last thing that any of her loved ones saw.
“Vellana! Get down here and stop the bleeding!” Someone shouted.
The Soul Eater pushed harder against her magic, sending a heat through Nymiria’s arms that almost made her recoil in pain.
“Hurry!” Nymiria cried. “I can’t hold it off much longer!
” Between the sounds that came from the creature, the yelling of those around her, and the infantile cries that filled the air, Nymiria’s hold on her power was starting to weaken.
Every muscle in her body felt as if they were on fire and stabbing pulses of pain shot through her skull.
She released another yell of frustration, her light now so blinding that even with her eyes closed, she could see it.
And then…
Quiet.
No longer able to withstand the weight of her body, Nymiria’s knees buckled.
She collapsed onto the floor with gentle hands already pressing cool rags to her hypersensitive skin.
When she opened her eyes, one of the young witches was in front of her, her young face filled with a mixture of awe and fear.
“I can’t believe it.” The girl said in a frantic whisper.
“I can’t believe it. Y-you… you’re the Anam.
You’re a goddess.” She was gripping Nymiria’s hand now, stuffing any sort of offering she had available into her palm.
“Take this. Take them. Oh, gods!” Tears spilled down her cheeks as she threw herself into Nymiria’s arms.
Stunned and weak, she could do nothing but pat the girl’s side. “It’s alright.” She said. “Save your offerings. I was just,” she hissed, muscles protesting as she adjusted herself into a more comfortable position. “I was just returning a favor.”
The girl pulled away, still mumbling prayers that rang in the recesses of Nymiria’s mind. She gave the girl a small smile, awkwardly patting her hand before pulling herself up on the edge of the bed.
Ilona’s eyes were open, her cheeks pink with life.
Her head was turned to the side, her arm outstretched to the other side of the bed where Aziel sat.
Though his body was covered in blood and sweat, the cloth in his arms was nearly pristine.
And there, swaddled within the pale blue fabric, was a sleeping newborn.
“She’s beautiful.” Ilona said softly, voice cracking. “She’s so beautiful.”
Nymiria’s breath was caught in her throat.
And though she believed she had no strength to do much else, she pulled herself into the bed beside her old friend.
Her gaze hung on the sight before her. It should have been a gruesome thing, with how much blood had been lost, but her heart swelled with intense emotion watching Aziel hold the babe he’d delivered.
A babe that was alive. A babe that would now get to have a mother…
Because she’d tried.
“Hold her for me.” Nymiria finally shifted her gaze to the woman at her side, her mouth falling open in silent protest. But Ilona was having none of it. “I’m still too weak to hold her, Nym. Would you help?”
Before she could refuse, Aziel was already walking towards them.
She couldn’t decipher the look she saw in his eyes, but as he passed the sleeping child to her, there was a sense of longing she felt when their hands met.
She stared up at him, eyes wide with uncertainty.
Aziel smiled and placed his hand upon her elbow, adjusting it just enough so that the baby was cradled perfectly against her chest. “Support her head.” He said quietly.
She’d never held a baby before. It was foreign and terrifying, her stomach dropping with each small movement.
When she was safely propped against the headboard of the bed, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Aziel stood there, freshly cleaned fingers curled around his chin.
Nymiria still was not sure what that look in his eyes meant, but there was something about it that made her chest ache.
He must have felt so many things. Not only had his power been so close to taking Ilona’s life, but it probably could have claimed the baby’s as well. A baby that was, by blood, his sister.
As much as Aziel hated the man who sired him, there was no mistaking the fact that he had nothing but love for the ones he shared blood with.
She saw the way he watched after Oran. Though their relationship was strained in many ways, there was no mistaking their bond as brothers—loving one another and accepting one another in the only way they knew how.
There was also that longing she felt coming from him, the pain of a future he believed that he could never have. That they could never have because of what her mother took from him.
He wanted to be a father. As a boy, he’d wanted nothing more than to be a father and to have a family of his own.
He believed that loving them would be the greatest revenge against his bloodline, that it would prove that he was nothing like Dorid Yaarborough.
Nymiria wished that she could tell him that he didn’t need to go to such lengths to prove himself.
He’d been born into this world a better man than Dorid could ever dream of being.
And for a moment, as she looked down at the little girl in her arms, Nymiria wondered if that ache she felt in her chest was anywhere near what Aziel felt when he looked at her.
Whenever she doubted herself, whenever she hated herself, she wondered if he felt that same deep heartbreak that she felt in that moment.
“It’s tradition in our coven to give girls names that end with an A.” Ilona started. Nymiria and Aziel both turned to her, waiting for her to continue. “I think that I found the perfect name for her.”
Nymiria’s heart warmed over, a small smile breaching her nervous expression. “And—what is it?”
“Azella. Azella Nymiria Forge.”