Chapter 33 - Look Away

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"Sometimes even to live is an act of courage."

- Lucius Annaeus Seneca

Song: Paint it Black - Hidden Citizens

Azriel.

But he wasn't Azriel. Not at all.

The way he stared at Nolan was feral. His handsome face was shrouded in fury.

When Gwyn didn't answer, Nolan only resumed his torture and Gwyn felt the blade connect with bone. She couldn't help the shriek that spilled from her... but it barely made it past her lips.

Azriel slammed into the old man with snarl, lifting him from the floor and pinning him against the wall. He gripped Nolan's face with one hand, the other used to hold him up.

Gwyn could barely see Azriel's profile over his twitching wings, but she could make out Nolan's expression clearly. There was recognition there.

"The Spymaster," Nolan said hoarsely. "I remember you, devil."

Before the old man could say another word, Azriel was prying open his jaw with his fingers. "You ask how this devil commands darkness," Azriel said in a voice cold as death itself. "I will show you." He tilted his head. "You will taste it. You will drown in it. You will weep it."

And then, so low that Gwyn could hardly hear him, Azriel sang and his shadows exploded around him. They grew above his head, and froze, forming that inky darkness that Gwyn remembered.

But this time, the starless sea did not envelope the room as it had when Gwyn had found Azriel in his chambers that night. This time the shadows began to swallow the room and Nolan.

As they painted the stones of the walls a silky onyx, the shadows poured down the old man's mouth and snaked around his body doing exactly what Azriel had confessed they would. "Drowning" Nolan. Choking him.

Nolan gagged and his wide eyes began to leak a watery black fluid. Azriel did not relent. He held the man in place, carefully keeping his mouth pried open so the inky darkness could funnel down his throat. His hazel eyes blazed fiercely and Gwyn glimpsed the male whose name struck fear in the hearts of every Court.

Nolan coughed on the liquid night, gasping against it. The same black liquid from his eyes was streaking down his face and began to dribble from his nose.

Gwyn would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the sight (even if she was growing rather dizzy).

Nolan spasmed once, twice, then became dead weight.

Azriel released his hold and the man's body fell to the ground in a lifeless heap.

Gwyn wouldn't have known that Azriel had stopped singing if the rippling blackness hadn't suddenly retreated and resumed looming atop his shoulders.

Then he just stood there, with his back to her.

"Are you alright?" he finally asked in a voice fringed with alarm.

Through the pain and the tears and the relief, Gwyn found a wisp of her voice. "Not... not really."

At the words, Azriel spun around.

She could see that he was also afraid and even when his long fingers made to undo her binds, they were trembling. "I'll get us out of here. Don't worry."

"Do I still have a pinky finger, Shadowsinger?"

Succeeding in undoing the knot at her ankles, Azriel next moved to the wrist of her injured hand. "You do."

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