AN : Hi Guys :)
I should be able to do chapters more often again now, my mocks are over and I'm getting more sleep lol
Please let me know how you're finding the story so far! I can't wait to develop Ember more.
This chapter will definitely do that, let's hopefully find out Rhys' side of the story!
———————————————————————
TW : Descriptions of Gore and Bad Language
Chapter 6 | The Truth
Azriel
The pain hit him for a second, before he had managed to gather his senses to what was happening.
For Azriel looked down slow enough to have realisation dawn on him, that the rigded edge of the - quill?
The fucking quill.
It hurt his ego more that he had previously thought it was a dagger, but no - it was that shitting quill.
He should've taken it off of her.
He should've taken it off of her slaughtered, hanging, mutilated corpse.
Fuck.
Shooting his gaze upwards, there was a momentary gap where he could catch the eye of his brother, deeming a wide eyed flash of features before darkness erupted.
They should've kept them damned cuffs on.
It felt the same as it did before, as he pulled the quill that was lodged 4 inches deep into his abdomen out without much force, ripping it roughly and throwing it to the ground as he unsheathed Truth Teller.
That's it.
He'd had enough now. She was going to die. Whether Rhysand wanted him to or not, he was indefinite that by day break, her head would be hanging like one of those lanterns on the side of the House of Wind.
But they felt the same as they had done before.
Her shadows.
Comforting.
Despite the somber ebony, suffocating, cooing, weeping inside the room, filling it to every crevice and gap of velarian air it possibly could manage, Azriel found comfort.
And it angered him more than anything.
And now he was going to lose his shit.
Despite this - disgusting feeling, he could hear nothing.
He tried tugging down to Rhys but found nothing to his brothers hold onto him.
Somethings wrong.
And yet, something made him suspect that she wouldn't harm Rhys.
For when she let that quill fly, it aimed with such deadly precision that there was no way it was going to head even to the same lick of air as Rhys.
YOU ARE READING
A Court of Death and Destruction
Fantasy"She was darkness and death moulded into the perfect form for him. For him. She was the darkness that was unending and unforgiving, unforgotten and unbinding." Ember Avilon. Warrior of the night. Slaughterer of kingdoms. Her name was known but forgo...
