111. Violette
VIOLETTE
When Azrael and... Azrael walk out of the bathing chamber, with towels tied low at their hips, it takes conscious effort for me not to drool.
They’re discussing something; looking oddly fraternal.
I can feel Levi’s gaze burning a hole into the side of my face from where my head rests against his shoulder as we lean against the headboard.
I lower my lashes to sneak a glance. He does indeed have a smirk on his lips.
I turn in his arm to pinch his mouth shut the moment it opens.
He grins, lips escaping my grasp and stealing my heart all over again.
His words are soft. Teasing yet reverent.
“A flower; A seraphim; Divinity in sacred form. Only she blossoms in death’s presence. What is her name?”
Tenderness squeezes my heart, silencing whatever reprimand I was ready to lash him with and replacing it with more love and adoration than I know what to do with.
Truly, I am the luckiest female in all the realms.
Levi’s lids lower, holding my gaze before briefly dipping to my mouth, only to return as his voice lowers to a rumbling whisper. “And who does she belong to?”
I feel as though my heart has been struck by Eros’s arrow.
Leaning forward, sliding my hand up the broad expanse of his tattooed chest, I brush my lips against his as I whisper my reply. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
Emotion replaces humor in Levi’s expression as his eyes dance between each of mine as if looking for evidence. “I love you, Levi. I belong to you.”
He groans, dragging me against him. Somehow, I can feel his emotion, his desire and need for me rise and swell; the prickle of his magic surging forward with such force it reminds me of swimming too far into the sea’s depths.
The sheer intensity of it is something I’ve only experienced with one other being.
I draw back, breaking our kiss. The words are barely breathed.
“You exchanged blood..."
Levi gives me a nod as his large hand lifts to cup the back of my neck as he pulls me astride his lap. Trapped within leather trousers, his cock is already thick and firm against me?—
A throat is cleared behind us.
“Pardon the interruption, but we have some urgent matters to discuss, and a masquerade to prepare for.”
I rear back, arching a brow.
“I beg your pardon? As in my father’s masquerade?”
Azrael two nods. “The very one.”
My gut churns. I’ve heard of his debauched carnival.
Vaguely.
Even if the event does gain us entrance directly into my father’s palace, the thought of attending is sickening.
Levi heaves a sigh, hands squeezing my hips to hold me in place when I try to slide off of him. “Can’t you just will him dead and fuck off with the masquerade? If Violette isn’t opposed to the idea..."
As petty as it is... I am opposed. I want to kill him myself.
Force this cruel male to face me as he draws his last breath, even if I have to get my males to tie him down so I can do it. Torture long-sought answers from him that I’ve spent my life wondering about.
Both Azrael’s give identical rueful smirks.
Sacred fuck this is going to take some getting used to.
Shadow Azrael elaborates. “It isn’t quite that simple.
Abyrion has a great many enemies and has spent fortunes honing skills, hiring those with more advanced powers of protection, and procuring some of the most powerful talismans, artifacts, and other trinkets to protect him.
It’s not quite so simple as me merely thinking of him and willing his soul from his body.
The moment my magic, or anyone’s magic, extends towards him it is repelled, and returned to them to wreak its havoc... "
Levi’s brows knit together in thought. “This is a new development, no?”
Shadow Azrael nods. “More or less... I will need to be in close proximity to him so that I am able to dismantle his wards, and kill whoever he has protecting him. But, at the very least, I know of no talisman that could thwart my magic, especially not if he’s nearby.”
My expression tightens. “I need to speak with him, Az. I need to?—”
All the questions I’ve been bottling up all these years swarm to the surface like sharks for chum.
Ask him what happened between him and my mother.
Did my mother truly die of a broken heart, or was it something more nefarious?
And did he have anything to do with it?
How could he have not even had the integrity to attend his owl soulbound’s ascension?
Why didn’t he want to raise me himself after her death?
Would I have truly been such a burden?
“I need to kill him myself.”
The ensuing anxiety pulls me out of bed to pace, as it does Levi who rises shortly after.
Shadow Azrael’s features soften. “And so you shall, sweet seraphim. I’ll just be there to ensure your protection and success.”
Wearing a concerned expression, Azrael studies me as he draws in a deep breath.
“In the meantime?—”
Shadow Azrael interjects. “We only have two days to prepare.”
Two days.
Hellish fuck.
My heart leaps into my throat.
That’s so soon... too soon.
“We can’t both be called Azrael. It’s hardly pragmatic. And we’re at an impasse because neither of us wish to relinquish our right to the infamous forename, and we don’t have middle names or a surname, so we agreed to allow you two to decide.”
I heave a sigh. “I can’t fathom calling you anything other than Azrael.”
Azrael looks pleased.
A soft grin teases my lips. “Or darling. Or angel. Or pet.”
He practically preens.
Shadow Azrael, on the other hand, glowers. “That’s hardly fair.”
My grin withers. “I suppose it’s not, no, but it’s hard not to experience a little cognitive dissonance, regardless of the reality of the situation.”
Shadow Azrael’s gaze slides to Levi as if seeking support.
Levi’s face remains impassive even as he provides a suggestion. “There’s a Latin name with a similar meaning... Lazarus. It’s also befitting, considering in religious texts, he was brought back to life.”
Shadow Azrael seems to ponder this, only looking mildly displeased. “All the more reason he should take the name, considering it was his body that rose from the dead.”
Azrael grumbles something unintelligible.
Shadow Azrael rolls his eyes. “But if you really insist on being such a petty bitch about something as trivial as a name, then I suppose it will suffice.”
It’s almost comical for Azrael—all nigh-seven feet of him and his rippling muscles oozing easygoing, yet disarmingly charming charisma—to be referred to as a petty bitch.
Azrael’s grin turns feline. “Thank you, darling. I knew you’d see reason.”
Lazarus grumbles, tossing his towel on the floor and striding towards the bed, gesturing flippantly, voice heavy with exasperation. “I’m going to sleep. Growing this meat-suit was thoroughly exhausting.”
He lifts the covers, tucking himself beneath and rolling over to give us his back and face the door, reminding me of a shunned dog.
My heart aches for him watching him lie on the very edge of the bed all alone.
After eons of loneliness and heartbreak.
Only to sever your own soulbond.
To then be treated like a stranger by the two people you’ve grown to love and trust.
Azrael, Levi, and I all exchange a look, silently communicating.
I frown. Shall I go to him?
Azrael and Levi give me a nod of encouragement. The former murmurs, “How about I procure some food for us?”
My cheeks heat slightly as I manage an agreeable expression—as though my stomach isn’t already stuffed to the brim.
“Perfect.”
Lazarus gives a derisive snort of laughter from the bed that makes my cheeks flame further. They both narrow their eyes but I shoo them away before they can pester me with questions.
Levi however remains immovable as a mountain as his eyes bounce between Azrael and Lazarus. “It’s... safe?”
Azrael gives him a devilish grin as he leans towards me to press a kiss to my lips.
“About as safe as she is with me.”
The thread of tension surrounding Levi eases and he gradually nods in acceptance and wills a glamour over Azrael that makes him appear blonde, shorter, and dressed in a pair of pantaloons, a frilly tunic, and a gold cockscomb—a court jester's cap.
Azrael scans himself, eyes peeking up to the tinkling bell dangling in front of his face courtesy of his hat. His mouth twitches with suppressed amusement before taming it into a firm line and giving Levi an unimpressed look. “Hilarious.”
I burst into an abrupt cackle that’s as shrill as Levi’s is deep.
Azrael’s lips tremble from the force of the grin trying to burst free. “I’m going to give you three seconds to incinerate this clown costume before I remove at least one of your testicles.”
The threat only makes us laugh that much harder, but Levi yields, and replaces the outfit with a very normal looking brown set of fighting leathers.
Levi presses a kiss to my lips before leading Azrael to our door.
Lazarus grumbles behind them, “The other outfit suits you better.”
Azrael feigns a saccharine grin. “I think my fist would suit you better.”
Levi chuckles as he shuts the door behind them, sealing Lazarus and I inside.
Alone.
My heart leaps as my stomach swoops like a butterfly with leaden wings.
I quietly pad over to him, kneeling beside the bed.
Hands folded between head and pillow, a singular tear pools in the corner of one eye before slipping over the bridge of his nose.
Seeing him like this makes me feel as though I’ve been lanced through the heart with a rapier.
“Oh my darling..."
A corner of his mouth tips up in a sad smile. “Sweet seraphim..."
My hand cups the side of his face and I stroke the apple of his cheek with my thumb.
His chin trembles slightly. This enormous, formidable god with such a gentle spirit...
I am in love with him.
Terribly.
Irrevocably.
I want to say the words so badly, my throat aches from the force with which they try to crawl out of me, but the dam there remains steadfast with fear.
Instead, I rise with a question on my lips. “May I lay beside you?”
Lazarus huffs. “I truly thought you’d never ask.”