Epsilon [Werewolf]

Chapter 36

"Come in!" I squeaked, scrambling to organize the rampant thoughts in my head. I had to just deal with a moody werewolf and now I'd have to deal with another one? And who knew what mood Azriel would be in?

The door flew open. An involuntary gasp ripped from my throat. The man at the frame was Azriel, sure enough, but he looked unrecognizable. His skin was paler than usual, a grey undertone that took away the ethereal glow. His dark hair was dull and disheveled, kinked at the ends as though he'd spent the past hour pulling at the strands. His clothes were a crumpled mess, his black Pelta creased and folded. 

But that was nothing compared to his stare. Immediately I was locked within his gaze, stomach clenching as an iciness ran through me. His blue eyes looked almost grey, their charming gleam nowhere to be seen. Instead, it was replaced by a foreign dullness -- the sodden remains of a guttered flame. He looked at me with a kind of hopelessness that stole the breath from my lungs, a hopelessness that made its way into my own heart. His eyes widened as he regarded me. 

Neither of us said a word as Azriel rushed to my side. I made a strange sound as the male gathered me up in a tight hug, his arms forcing the air from my lungs.

"I'm so sorry, Kyra," he whispered. My heart stopped. His whole body was quivering, voice shaking as he spoke those lines. He pulled back and, sure enough, tears were brimming his eyes -- tears of regret. I turned away, for it felt almost illegal to see -- like I shouldn't see such a high being in an emotional state.

"Please, Kyra, look at me," he begged. The anguish in his voice forced my eyes froward, even if my heart couldn't handle it. He looked at me behind a glassy gaze, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to form speech. Eventually, he threw his head against my lap, and I could feel the tension in his jaw as he clenched it. "I'm sorry..."

I sat there like a stunned mullet. I had no idea what to do. Here was this great man, revered by many, crying into my lap and apologizing over and over. I was saved from doing something stupid when he finally pulled back, gripping me by my shoulders.

"I had no idea it had gotten that bad," he ground out, and I could tell he was trying to keep the cracks from his voice. It took me a moment to realize that even in his most vulnerable moments he was trying to look strong -- strong for me. "I had no idea it had taken such a toll on you, and yet I..."

He stopped, gritting his teeth as he looked down. For a few moments, we sat in tense silence.

"And yet where was I?" he said, his sudden rise in tone taking me by surprise. "Where was I when you were suffering, when you were so alone? I was sulking in my pretty quarters; I was moping while you were aching, because I was too damn spiteful to come out of my shell and see if you were okay."

And you don't have to forgive me; I have said sorry over and over, and yet I still keep hurting you, Kyra. By now my apologies probably have no meaning. I try, Kyra, I really do, but I always end up making stupid mistakes; I always end up hurting you."

He started to tremble again, the reverberations shooting through my shoulders. He tightened his grip on me. 

"Just know I really am sorry, Kyra," he said again. "Even if those words mean nothing to you right now, after what I've done, how I've treated you, just know I am. Just know that none of this is your fault, either. You had every right to get angry, to be upset at me. And I had the nerve to take offense. I mean, what gave me the right--"

A sharp breath ripped from his throat, and he fell silent again. "I should've checked up on you from the moment I noticed your absence," he continued. "I knew something was wrong -- I knew it and yet I did nothing of it. And for what? Because of my pride? Because you'd upset me?"

A shaky laugh escaped him. "Gee, what a leader I am!"

Slowly, he raised his head, returning his gaze to me. Only then did I notice the wariness, the hurt and guilt that came with beating oneself up. I would recognize that look anywhere. "I do not expect you to forgive me, Kyra," he whispered, voice a tad steadier now. "And you have every reason not to. Hell, I can't even begin to forgive myself for the neglect I've committed. I am responsible for your wellbeing, and yet I failed you--"

His words caught in his throat again, and he fell silent. I was still aware of his hands on my shoulders, the way they would quake every now and again. 

I opened my mouth. I wanted to forgive him, with all my heart I wanted to forgive him and ease his pain, but where was he when I was crying like he? When I too was in pain? 

But then I recalled what Raina had told me, about how he'd threatened his own people for my sake. Going against your own people like that would take some damn backbone.

"I forgive you," I mumbled quietly.  "But if you hurt me, don't think I'll forgive you again"

With teary eyes, he lifted my hand to his mouth, leaving a soft kiss on my skin. Electricity formed at the place his soft lips met my skin, and I could feel my body warming up. The room spun, and for a moment I forgot how to breathe. I reminded myself it was just a kiss of courtesy, yet it left me feeling so--

"You gave a golden heart, Kyra," he muttered, standing up. He gave me a small smile. "A heart much more golden than mine."