94. Levi
LEVI
The group of us makes swift work of folding to collect some essentials from my house, and Azrael’s.
If I wasn’t so nervous about our visit to Selcarim, I might have been able to actually appreciate my fleeting glimpse of Azrael’s palace.
Instead, I was too busy interrogating Violette about Selcarim’s environs, all its predators and prey.
Now, Azrael, his wraith, and I are standing in the cabin’s living room waiting for Violette to finish preparing.
A small armory is laid out before us, ready to be strapped to our bodies.
Sitting beside two assault rifles—one for me and one for Azrael—are a peppering of handguns for the three of us, Violette’s bow and arrow, which looks like something straight out of Lord of the Rings, and a matte black sword with finely engraved naturalistic details decorating the handle and pommel; gilded runes run the length of the blade.
Thanapheros, Azrael had called it, claimed it was forged in hellfire and imbued with his death magic.
The nerd in me tried very hard not to squeal with excitement.
When I took them outside to teach them how to handle a gun in case we ran into predators during our journey, Azrael impressed me with genuine skill.
I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised considering that he is a God of Death and has travelled across numerous worlds—one of his favorites being Earth—where he seems to be innately familiar with its technologies.
When I asked him what drew him here, that sad look returned to his face.
“I spent a lot of time here, searching for Persephone... Fell in love with it, and many of its people, along the way.”
Dressed in a pair of dark fighting leathers, Azrael is even more striking. They’re even more flattering than the Italian suits I’d seen him in before our trip began.
I’m borrowing a pair of black leathers from him.
The chest and shoulders have what I can only assume are dragon scales sewn into the chest, shoulders, ribs, forearms, and the tops of my thighs.
When I’d tried to insist I wear my own gear, Violette immediately shot down the idea in favor of blending in.
Azrael’s amber-y, burning wood scent fills my nose, and my body reacts to it despite my best efforts. The smell of him is both comforting and arousing all at once. Even if I can’t help but wonder what atrocities have been committed or experienced in these leathers.
There’s an underlying cord of tension between us—one wrapped in a growing affection, appreciation, and a mutual innate understanding of one another—that seems to tighten, creating a sense of both yearning and apprehension.
My fingers twitch with the need to grab him and pull him close. To kiss and devour him in the only way I know how. Wholly and mercilessly. Force him to surrender this horrific fucking idea that he doesn’t want to continue living.
But he is the embodiment of everything I’ve tried to run from.
So, my fear wins in this moment.
“How are you feeling about this?”
Azrael looks mildly surprised by the question. “Selcarim? Or this survival challenge?”
“Both.”
He heaves a thoughtful sigh, shifting his weight to one leg as he props a hand on his hip. The action looks bizarrely human.
“The challenge I’m excited about. I may not be the best at roughing it—I’ll be the first to admit, I do love my creature comforts—but so long as I’m with you two, I’ll be happy as a piglet suckling on a teat.”
I can’t help but chuckle, even as my heart warms. “How very specific.”
Azrael huffs a laugh. “And should we run into any trouble, we can stay at my estate in Narudi…” He gives Violette a tender look. “Oleander is still there.”
Violette gives him a sad smile, communicating something I’m clueless about, and make a mental note to ask later.
“Can your shadow fold us there?”
Azrael’s gaze slides to his phantom. Faint twin points of light stare back at us and I swear I see something shift, but there’s no intelligible response.
Azrael heaves a sigh. “To my estate? You’re guess is as good as mine.”
I give a thoughtful grunt. “And Sinsól itself? How difficult will it be to reach her father?”
He shakes his head, brows forming a hard line of tension.
“I’d be far less concerned if I had my powers. The fact that it’s in the largest, most populous city in the entire realm, which also happens to be beneath the sea…”
I rear back in shock. Azrael chuckles. “She didn’t tell you?”
“Pardon the oversight, darling.”
Violette saunters down the steps dressed in tight leather pants—the kind I’ve only ever seen warriors or superheroes wear in movies—and a matching leather corset with a frilly blouse that emphasizes her generous cleavage.
She might look like a fancy pirate, but my cock thickens all the same, and I’m forced to readjust myself. Even Azrael’s shadow seems wholly enamored by her; rotating his entire canvas-cloaked body and drifting closer to her.
“Fear not, the city is housed within an impenetrable dome with plenty of air. Though we will have to swim there.”
Violette is taller than most human women—nearly six feet—and has a curvy frame, so she’s not small by human standards, but when she comes to stand between us, she looks so very petite, sandwiched between Azrael and me.
Especially now with my enhancements... some of which I am still discovering as I go.
My soulbound’s face grows serious as she gazes between the two of us, eyes sliding for a moment to where Azrael’s shadow hovers nearby, before opening her palms and passing a vial of a softly glowing purplish-blue, iridescent liquid to me. “Drink this so you can speak and read Selcarimi fluently.”
Azrael arches a brow. “Is that water from The Well of Tongues?”
Violette gives him a haughty look. “No. It is an elixir of my own making.”
Pride and adoration shines in Azrael’s eyes. “Truly, you are a stunning creature. Capable of so much greatness.”
His words make my appreciation of him heighten even further.
“Do you require one?”
Azrael shakes his head, smiling. “Thank you, little seraphim, but I drank from the well an aeon ago.”
Violette nods, watching as I down the vile, and wills another into her hand—this one gold. “I figured as much. Drink another of these... Just to ensure your,” her fingers graze her throat, “... healing endures.”
The corners of Azrael’s smile weaken before his mouth presses into a grim line and he nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
Violette watches, ensuring he drinks even the final drop before willing away our vials.
“We need to lay a few ground rules... One: Always stay together. Two: Leave no one behind. Three: Trust no one—even if they look like us. If something feels off—trust your instinct. There are a few cunning creatures capable of creating illusions to lure you into a false sense of security so they may feed from you.”
Unease twists in my gut even as my heart kicks up with excitement. I’m moments away from living the lore I’ve only ever read about.
My expression is stone cold, but my inner nerd is skipping and jumping with delight as Violette continues.
“We need a parlay to confirm our identities. Something random and peculiar no one else could guess. Any suggestions?”
A parlay...
Azrael steeples his hands as he hums in thought.
“Oh, I do so love a good riddle.”
My moment of glory hath arrived.
Perhaps a little too expeditiously, I offer a succinct suggestion—a riddle that I wrote when I was 19 but reread this morning.
“What gives birth only to kill its young?”
Azrael seems surprised by my swift response, and a smile teases a corner of Violette’s lips. They both arch a single, synchronized brow.
“Is it an animal or something more obscure?” Violette narrows her eyes, studying me. “It’s something more obscure, isn’t it?”
A corner of my mouth tilts. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
Azrael hums. “Is it fire?”
My grin blossoms. “No…”
My eyes slide to Violette, waiting to see if she would like to guess. Something like adoration twinkles in her eyes. “Tell me.”
I can feel the heat of Azrael’s shadow boring into me, like even he is eager to hear the answer, and I grin in his direction. He stares back, and I swear I feel its gaze reach into my soul so deeply it nearly throws me off my high horse.
“Time.”
Violette’s grin widens as she gives me a decisive nod. “My clever soulbound. It is settled then. If we ever get separated, or something feels off, one of us will ask ‘What is the time?’ And the other has to reply with ‘What gives birth only to kill its young?’ Understood?”
My heart gives an emotional swoop—like the buckling of knees at the sense of being swept off one’s feet. How is it that with so little effort, this female manages to make me feel more seen and appreciated than I ever could have imagined.
Azrael’s gaze dances between the two of us, reverence shining in his eyes. “You two never fail to take my breath away.”
Violette gives him one of those rare, shy and heartrendingly sweet grins before closing the distance between them, grasping the neckline of his top and tugging him down to capture his lips.
Again, the jealousy I expect doesn’t arrive. Instead, my heart swells with a tenderness I don’t know what to do with.
Their lips slide perfectly against one another, lingering. Azrael groans, wrapping his arms around Violette to clutch her against his chest. Her feet leave the ground as they both sigh into one another, deepening their kiss.
My dick—already half-mast at the mere sight of her—hardens to the point of pain. Her hands cradle his face, fingers threading into the soft, dark waves of his neatly trimmed hair. One of his hands shifts from her side to lift her thigh, and she responds by wrapping her legs around his waist.
And I’m about two seconds away from jerking off right beside them.
Violette gives a breathy moan as her hips roll needily against him.