Shadows Whisper | | Azriel

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Astryn didn't stay awake for long, and when she fell back asleep, she found herself back in the throne room.

Death was visibly shocked to see her, his dark eyes going wide.

"You came back?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He paused and seemed to sniff the air before letting out a huff of disbelief, "you're alive still. You shouldn't be here. You can't be here."

"I fell asleep and woke up here," Astryn muttered, her eyes drifting to that throne again. She had seen the thrones in the Autumn Court. Beron's had been significantly more extravagant than his wife's—larger and more ornate. The two thrones upon the dais here were equals in every way. The other crown, the one he hoped would be hers eventually, matched his in size and value too.

"It's yours if you want it, you know," Death told her, his lips tugging up into a boyish smile when he caught her staring at the throne. "I've been waiting a long time for you."

"I haven't even been alive for a long time," she pointed out, and Death let out a soft laugh.

"Time works differently here. It's...I've seen you. I've seen you for years. I've seen every possible version of you there is," he informed her, and he couldn't bring himself to say the second half of what he always saw. He saw every version of Astryn, wanted every version of her, but every version of Astryn wanted every version of Azriel.

But he had interfered in a way he wasn't meant to. When she died, the path that she had gone down had that written as her end. That was supposed to be it for this version of Astryn, and one version following that path and dying would put an end to any possible futures, any other paths. And, for once, Death couldn't bear to welcome someone into his realm.

She had given him that look, the little pout and the fluttering eyelashes and the sparkling eyes and he broke the only rule he was ever given when he was created and handed the keys to this realm. What dies stays dead. That was his only rule, and he broke it because of a look—because of a look from a female he knew would want someone who wasn't him in every version of her life.

He didn't know what would happen when she died, that was something he never was able to see with anyone. He could see every possible life, but after that, he saw nothing. He hoped, somewhat foolishly, that maybe Azriel would have the honor of being loved by her in life but when she came to his realm, she would choose him eventually. Maybe it would take a century or longer after her death, but time was different here anyway. Time didn't matter here. So maybe one day in a place where days didn't even really exist, she would choose him.

It was a foolish thought and he knew it. He knew he stood no chance, but he couldn't bring himself to be bitter about it. How could he resent her choosing someone else when he knew the male she would always choose over him loved her so much, was worthy of her? He couldn't resent that choice.

"I don't understand how I'm here," Astryn's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "This is...it's where dead people go. I'm not dead."

"I've never brought someone back like that," Death confessed somewhat sheepishly, "I must have made a mistake and somehow left a bit of your soul tethered to this place. I apologize for the inconvenience."

"It's not an inconvenience," she said, that pout making an all too brief appearance. "You're quite pleasant."

"I think that's the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me," he joked, but she somehow knew it wasn't a joke. "I don't blame them," he assured her, "I understand that I'm an end very few ever are truly ready for. I can't take offense at their hatred for what I am when I know what I am steals them away from what they love."

"I spent many nights in those chains begging for death," she muttered, and he visibly flinched, as if he could vividly recall it.

"I know," he confessed, his eyes sad, "I saw that, heard it in the darkness they kept you in. But I can't interfere with the mortal world. It would complicate things. And my body was not built to sustain life—I'd have to find a way to take on a mortal body to visit your realm. I did try. I tried very hard to find a way to inhabit a mortal body long enough to free your from that cave and slaughter anyone who had a hand in keeping you there. I need you to know that abandoning you to what they did...it wasn't what I would have done if it was up to me."

"Do you know who did it?" she asked quietly. "We haven't found everyone. There are people hiding still."

"I don't," he muttered, eyes alight with anger at that truth, "I'll know when they die, when they come to my realm they will be unable to hide their wickedness from me, and I will show them my wickedness in return."

"My uncle," she brought up quietly, so much sadness in her voice. "My brother killed him, so he's here now. He was...he was part of it, wasn't he?"

"He saw you in the cave, in those chains, for the first time a year before your brother came for you," he informed her hesitantly, "he was foolish, Astryn. Very foolish. He thought you were beyond saving, and that sending you to me would be kinder than freeing you. But he was too much of a coward to even do it himself, and he sent you to that vile male you were forced to marry hoping he would do it so his own soul wouldn't bear that stain."

"Do you think...can you see what's in a soul?" she inquired, to which he nodded. "Is mine broken?"

His eyes flashed with some emotion—some fierceness only Azriel ever looked at her with before now.

"Your soul is not broken," he spoke the words without room for debate, "your soul is the most stunning I have ever seen."