50. Levi
LEVI
“You are a fool.” Somnus’s voice is ripe with both disdain and boredom as he watches me gaze up at the enormous wall of water illuminated behind a glass panel through which he scries.
Rage like I have never known courses through my body at the sight of Violette being touched by another male—Azrael, the-God-of-fucking-Death, according to Somnus.
I have no doubt this is why I was left a note being told to find Somnus.
And why I was called a jackass.
However, all thoughts of who might have left it have evaporated.
Somnus continues speaking, but the words fall upon deaf ears because my entire world has been reduced to Violette and Azrael’s points of contact. The way his palm holds her head, his thumb gingerly caressing her cheek, swiping away the tears that spill for me.
How his eyes dip to her gently parted lips.
The tension there is palpable, winding tighter and tighter. The jealousy in my veins feels like a poisonous flame, burning, searing, and sickening.
You did this.
I feel the scarcest amount of relief when he withdraws and takes a singular step back. Violette’s arms wrap around herself, looking more heartbroken than I could have ever possibly imagined this formidable female ever being.
Somnus is right.
I am a fool.
“I can sense death... and one’s desire for it.”
I am essentially doing to Violette what our fathers did to our mothers, and thus, abandoning her to the same fate.
Dying of a broken heart.
I am such a fucking asshole.
Azrael’s words are the final nail in the coffin.
“I’ll take care of the bond so long as you allow me to court you in full syrith tradition.”
Syrith tradition? What the fuck is that?
Violette’s soft gasp is followed by more tears, head shaking in disbelief.
“That is a cruel bargain.”
Azrael’s soft expression hardens, a familiar attempt to hide the pain behind his eyes. “If I am known for anything at all, it is cruelty, little seraphim. You know this.”
Say no.
My regret is bitter and overwhelming that it took this inconceivable event for me to see the error of my ways—the God of Dreams to visit me in my sleep and reveal a window into Violette’s reality where she bargains with a fucking death god.
Watching her hesitate to refuse him, I can’t breathe. Helplessness is not a feeling I am familiar with, but I am certain that’s the name of this wretched, fiery panic searing my veins and gnawing through my chest.
Violette sniffs, somehow managing to give the God of Death a malevolent sneer even as tears continue to wash her cheeks.
“Cruelty is a condition of the male species.”
Azrael huffs a mirthless laugh. “I can assure you that it was not a male who inspired me to be this way.”
Violette shakes her head in disbelief. “And if I could, you still wouldn’t wish for me to find Persephone for you?”
The mask of charm the god wears slips again, the pain behind it clear. Something I can begrudgingly empathize with.
“Darling, it would be a wasted effort. I’ve spent aeons chasing her. Found her myself, time and time again. I already know where she is.”
Violette’s lips part in shock. Azrael gives her a sad smirk.
I’d love to know why, fucker.
“One person can only take so much rejection.”
Violette’s features tense as an emotion I don’t yet recognize shadows her gaze.
“Then you should know something... It might make you feel differently about me.”
Azrael’s brow arches with intrigue. “Ooooh. Pray tell.”
Violette’s throat dips, as her eyes glisten even as she forces her spine to straighten and her chin to lift.
“Sometime, not long after we met... I began working at a brothel.”
Oh, fuck. She’s ashamed of it. Pain spears through me at the realization.
Azrael’s brows leap, though there’s no judgment.
“How very salacious, darling. Did you enjoy it?”
Violette’s brows knit together as if in disbelief. Wary, as if expecting to be admonished. “... Sometimes, yes. Other times, I hated it. It is not a career I would willingly go back to.”
What I can only describe as quiet fury darkens Azrael’s features.
“Did... Lucen force you into this work?”
Lucen... Who the fuck is Lucen?
Violette huffs a mirthless laugh. “Oddly enough, no.”
Azrael steps forward to caress her hair and my own fury returns at that point of contact.
“Little seraphim, I hold you in just as high a regard now as I did when I first met you. Your past changes nothing.”
Violette’s gaze searches his as if she can’t quite believe his words—words that earn even my begrudging respect.
A tear slips down her cheek, which he gently swipes away.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Violette. If anything, I admire you more for it because no matter what you’ve been through, your soul is filled with just as much love and virtue now as it was then. It hasn’t been cowed in the slightest.”
Violette laughs it off. “I have a hard time believing that.”
A small smile tilts Azrael’s lips. “I’ll help you see that one day. If you’ll give me the honor.”
Violette draws in a deep breath, and I can already feel what her next words will be. That she’s going to agree to this bargain. My own shame reaches the depths of me.
Oh, God, what have I done?
“Define your terms.”
Fuck.
No.
I feel like my heart is being filleted by a fucking bread knife.
Azrael studies her for a moment.
“My stipulation is merely to perform all of the syrith courtship rituals with you, and I will ensure that you no longer have to suffer the soulbond again.”
The scowl on Violette’s face could kill plants.
I have no fucking clue what they’re not saying, but it makes dread settle in my stomach like an anvil on the sea floor.
“What if I allow you to simply court me? Not by syrith tradition, but simply... getting to know one another.”
Azrael gives a soft grunt of dissent. A certain vulnerability settles on his features that makes me want to strangle him because I can tell from that look alone that he’s pulling on her heartstrings.
“Violette, I want a chance with you. A real chance. In the way that my own soulbound never gave me.”
Being the secretly, immensely compassionate person she is, her gaze softens. And my dread intensifies.
Her words are barely a whisper and have zero conviction.
“You are abhorrent.”
Azrael smirks, but that pained darkness in his eyes lingers.
“Darling, you flatter me.”
Violette chews on the inside of her cheek. A moment later, her lips resume trembling. Tears fall.
Azrael’s features soften, as if to feign concern, as he reduces the distance between them once more.
He gently takes her hand in his. “Violette, for what little it’s worth, I vow that, during our time together, I will never do anything that goes against your desires.
All I truly ask is that you grant me the opportunity to prove my devotion and worthiness.
And I promise that by the time we reach the final rituals, you will look forward to them. ”
Say no, Vi. Please, say no.
When she hesitates, Azrael shifts to turn towards an opening portal, which widens to reveal Violette’s home. “You’re allowed to say no, Violette.”
Yes, go home, Violette. I’ll meet you there.
Determination fills her gaze as her features harden. “I have one stipulation I would like to add.”
Hope glitters in Azrael’s eyes, further whetting my bloodlust.
“By all means…”
“If I decide to take you as my mate after we complete the courtship rituals, your life is forfeit to me. Do you understand? You will never leave me. You will never again lie with another female. You will never raise a hand or wield your magic in violence towards me. If you were to ever try, I won’t need the vow to give you a slow and painful death, because I will take pleasure in doing it myself. ”
My eyes burn against the helplessness and despair consuming me.
This is the stuff of nightmares.
Azrael’s gaze turns heated with equal parts desire and adoration.
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
I don’t miss Violette’s look of surprise as she draws in a deep, steadying breath. Her ascent is barely a whisper.
“Fine.”
My hand absently clutches at my chest. How is it possible that my chest isn’t a gaping wound, that I’m not bleeding out, and moments from death?
What have I done?
“Take me to them, Somnus. I’ll do anything.”
Somnus’s words drip with disdain.
“Oh, now you want her? Now that you see she has other options? Who are you to stop her if you, her own soulbound, won’t protect and provide for her in any of the ways she needs you to?”
The words of their spoken vow sound miles away as I watch Azrael extend his hand, and Violette places her own within it.
Blinding light pierces the air between their hands.
Blood trickles from their palms onto the floor between them.
The light between their palms grows to encompass their hands, burning so bright I have to squint until it dims swifter than it arrived.
My heart feels as though it’s being shredded into a million fucking pieces.
I’m not sure if this male can die. He possesses the aura of someone distinctly immortal, but no one is immune to pain.
Even if he can’t die, at the very least, I will cause him enough agony that he’ll wish he could.
The fact that I will likely die in the process is of little consequence to me, especially if he severs my bond with Violette.
Perhaps I’ll end up in his Hell realm and can torture him for the rest of eternity.
Violette looks down at the new, faint pink scar running the length of her palm before rubbing at her chest, determination burning in her gaze.
Azrael examines the twin scar on his own hand before her words draw his gaze.
“And what of the bond?”
An unmistakable sadness bleeds into his gaze.
“You’re sure this is what you want?”