Chapter Twelve #2
“You’re right,” Aurelie said, pressing a hand against Yuri’s side until he had no choice but to step aside. “But Nicolas raised his sword to my father. Were our roles reversed and it was your mother, you would have cut off my hand, too.”
“There’s still time.” There was bloodlust in her eyes as Solange shifted to lunge again. Aurelie looked ready for it, her feet shifting into a defensive stance, hand settling on her dagger, but Marcel’s grip on the other knight tightened.
“Give it a rest,” Marcel hissed, but Yuri wasn’t taking any chances. The angel took a seething Aurelie by the arm, making haste down the length of the hall.
“Let go of me,” she hissed, trying to shake him off. “I’m fine.”
She likely was, but he still let go only when Solange was out of sight.
Heavy silence lingered until they eventually reached the door to Aurelie’s suite.
Or rather their suite now, he supposed. She opened it to reveal a grand space with vaulted ceilings and intricate moldings.
The walls were covered in rich tapestries that shimmered in the hearth’s light, and the floor was a mosaic of marble, softened by a crimson rug beneath a canopied bed.
In the corner of the room, past tall arched windows draped in heavy brocade curtains, stood a gleaming lyre.
Above it, a weapon rack with impeccably maintained swords and daggers.
Yuri took it in, feeling like an intruder.
“What do you think?” Aurelie asked, immediately removing her scaled breastplate.
“There are certainly worse places to be confined.”
Despite her composed exterior, Aurelie’s resolve was fraying at the edges.
She pushed farther into her room, not looking at him.
Yuri didn’t need a bond to understand that she wanted to be alone.
To mourn her father in peace without having to keep it together in front of a man she likely felt some need to impress.
“Try to rest,” he said, eager for a bit of respite himself. “I’m going to find the king and see what can be done. He can’t keep you locked in here forever.”
Aurelie took a seat on the edge of her bed, looking so much smaller now than she had when he’d first met her. “Maybe he should,” she whispered, though given how quietly she spoke, Yuri had a feeling those words weren’t meant for him.
It felt odd to separate from her. Wrong, even.
But he needed to better understand the situation he’d gotten himself into by coming to the mortal realm.
And so, with an embarrassing nod that turned into a half bow that made him want to throw himself into the sea, Yuri slipped from the room and shut the door behind him, each step tugging at him like an invisible tether.
He snapped his teeth together, ignoring it and focusing instead on how Azriel’s presence called to him like the toll of a distant bell, resonating in every fiber of Yuri’s being.
Slowly, familiarizing himself with the layout of what was to be his new home, he followed the pull down steep staircases riddled with portraits and tapestries, to a small room near the medical ward.
His heart tightened upon seeing Azriel slumped in the corner.
The royal physician had just been dismissed, and for a moment, Azriel looked ready to send Yuri away, too—until one of the eyes on his wings blinked, recognizing the younger angel.
“Yuriel.” Azriel’s voice was as rough as wind scraping over stone. “What a welcome we’ve given you.”
Yuri lowered himself to the floor across from Azriel, tucking his wings in tight. “You look like you’ve been through war.”
Azriel let out a sharp, bitter laugh until he grimaced suddenly, pain twisting his features. “I think this might be the end of the line for me.”
Surely the angel wouldn’t succumb unless Varen did, though it unnerved Yuri to hear him speak of death so plainly.
“There’s so much bitterness,” Azriel whispered. “So much anger and rage festering inside him. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Yuri had always known the dangers of bonding—it was part of why he’d wanted nothing to do with humans.
Yet here he was, stomach roiling, unsure whether the nausea he felt belonged to him or Aurelie.
It was a miracle he was still upright; his vision swam and his pulse quickened, sorrow consuming him.
Did it ever get easier to ignore?
Azriel had his sympathy. Yuri couldn’t imagine having his soul tethered to a demon’s when this single human’s emotions were already drowning him.
And yet, every instinct pulled him toward Aurelie.
He wanted to return to her room. To calm her, and quell the sadness he somehow felt responsible for after knowing the woman all of an hour.
What am I, a dog? Yuri shook his head, trying to rid himself of the urges that clung to him like a curse.
“You’ll get used to it,” Azriel said, speaking softly. “You feel her soul rushing through yours, don’t you? Her nerves, every emotion … It took me weeks before I could even begin sorting through each one.”
If it took one of the most powerful Guardians weeks, then what chance do you have of ever being free of this feeling?
Yuri steadied himself, only then realizing how shallow his breathing had become.
He set a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, trying to ease the angel’s worry as much as his own.
“I appreciate it, but you’re not the one who’s meant to be doing the reassuring right now. ”
He’d feel better once he got onto the battlefield. When he and Aurelie began their training, all those nerves and troublesome thoughts would have somewhere to settle.
Azriel’s laughter was hoarse as he tipped his head back against the wall.
“Don’t be a fool to your pride. A new bond is difficult for anyone, Yuri.
But as you two become familiar with each other, your bond will grow.
Her emotions will always be there, but they won’t be so loud.
You’ll learn to filter through them, just give it time. ”
Yuri didn’t care for the way Azriel looked him over, assessing him like some new recruit.
He was no longer a fledgling, but a Soldier far grown from who Azriel had once known.
So why was it that Yuri felt himself straightening, pushing his shoulders back beneath the weight of the other angel’s scrutiny?