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56. A Crown of Shadows and Stars

Please pace yourself! This chapter is ~8k. That takes ~50 minutes to read. Enjoy! (Also, please excuse mistakes.)

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"I'm sorry, what?" You rushed after the Bone Carver, your boots click-clacking into the nothingness that was Anima. You glanced up at the "sky" and fought a shiver. It was less "sky" and more "infernal oblivion." You didn't think you'd ever get used to it. "What do you mean if you ever decide to be whole again?"

The Bone Carver stopped at the bottom of a steep staircase that seemed to weave through the paradoxically shadowy and iridescent city.

You stopped too, and Azriel grabbed your left elbow, angling his body between you and the god, his expression dark and hard and sharp.

Looking over his left shoulder and wing, the Bone Carver said, "I didn't stutter, High Lord. I said what I said, and I meant what I said. A long, long time ago, the shadowsinger's soul was halved, and one half was thrown across worlds until it landed in your body, descendant of Azur. I'd say it was an accident, but nothing rarely is." He paused, smoothing his black cotton dress, and then, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully, added, "And now, you're both here . . . Now, you think you're mates."

"Soulmates," you corrected him. "We're soulmates."

The Bone Carver's upper lip twitched. "No, you're not." Something otherworldly burned behind his eyes — Azriel's eyes — but you refused to fear a dead god.

Azriel swallowed thickly. "(Y/n)—"

"No," you hissed, pulling away from him. "We may not be mates, but we're soulmates. We're something." You searched Azriel's intense grimace, trying to decode it, but couldn't. Your throat clogged with emotion. "I accepted the mating bond. It's real. We're real."

The Bone Carver scoffed. "Are you mates? No. Do you share a soul? Yes." He turned his back to you and then started climbing the stairs. "Does that make you soulmates?" He shrugged. "How long was your frenzy?"

You were about to splutter and storm after him . . .

But instead, you did nothing.

How long was your frenzy?

A day.

Maybe.

When you blinked up at Azriel, your chest ached something fierce. You'd almost forgotten the seed there, the seed that had then grown into a garden, the garden that now turned to him like he was the sun.

And it'd all been one big misunderstanding?

What you'd experienced wasn't love but, in actual fact, possession?

". . . if you ever decide to be whole again . . ."

And then you thought something so disturbing, so intrusive, that you were thankful for Azriel having shut you out of the bond.

We don't have to be tied to each other?

Stop it, you almost screamed at yourself. You dashed after the Bone Carver, taking two steps at a time even though you weren't a cardio goddess. Stop it, stop it, stop it. Azriel isn't someone to be free of.

Your lungs burned as you started to panic.

Free of?

Your hands spasmed as you neared the Bone Carver.

He's sowing discord on purpose, you told yourself over and over again. Don't listen to him. Don't. You need answers about the sacred bow. Focus.

When you were finally a few steps away from the Bone Carver, you slowed down and took in huge lungfuls of air.