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33. Interlude (Pt. 3)

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When you woke up the next day, you had pins and needles.

You didn't think you'd fallen asleep in a weird position, so you blinked your eyes open — and were immediately met with Azriel's tattooed chest.

At some point during the night, you must've attached yourself to his side. You shifted, just listening to him breathe for a few minutes.

Part of you wanted to feel embarrassed about last night, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it; you had no regrets.

Slowly, carefully, you tilted your right hand against Azriel's sternum. You stared at your and Devlon's bargain mark, at the magical silver lines. You thought it'd been the source of your pins and needles, but no, you decided it wasn't, so you put it back down.

You closed your eyes when you felt Azriel's heartbeat under your palm again — and then found yourself reminiscing.

The first time you'd laid eyes on each other, it'd been in the river house's backyard, and because he'd been wearing those sinful, form-fitting leathers, he'd been sweating. The first time you'd realized there was more to him, it'd been in the Court of Nightmares, and because you'd been consumed with panic, he'd become your lifeline.

The first time you'd felt his concern for you and believed it, you'd been with Koschei, and because Azriel hadn't been able to do anything, you'd shut him out. And the first time you'd wanted him, it'd been in your bedroom, and because you'd felt his want through the bond, you'd let him have you.

But there were other first times.

Others that weren't happy like the ones you'd remembered first.

"The mating bond has bewitched me."

You wondered, briefly, if you, too, had been bewitched by the bond.

When something ghosted across your cheek, you opened your eyes.

Azriel's shadows curved over his chest and wrapped around your wrist, and you lifted your hand again.

You smiled at them, and then a thought occurred to you. "Where is it?" you whispered. A few shadows peeled away from your hand as if to hold your gaze. "Where's the horcrux?"

The shadows retreated until only one remained, holding onto your pinky finger.

"A promise?" Your smile widened. "That you'll give it back?"

The shadow squeezed your pinky and then faded away.

Azriel stirred and stretched. He yawned before asking, "Who're you talking to? Ghosts?"

"Maybe," you teased, rolling onto your back. "If you must know, I was talking to your shadows."

Azriel rolled onto his side. He looked down at you in disbelief. "Oh, really?"

"Why, yes." You nodded sagely. "Of course."

Azriel rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Okay." He then focused on the windows across the small room. The curtains had been drawn, but light poured in through the cracks. "We're probably late. We need to get moving."

"Late for what?"

"For training."

"We can't be late for training if no one's expecting us."