Their Fireheart

Chapter Thirty Four

Azriel

As we left the so-called Sin Eater's temple, my eyes were continuously drawn towards Aelin - for once, not because of her magnetic beauty. She was as enthralling as always, but some sixth sense had unease slithering beneath my skin. I didn't know how, but I could tell that something had shaken her, and it wasn't discovering the true identity of the fabled "God of Truth."

Unpleasant as that realization had been, it made a disturbing amount of sense. The fucking Bone Carver always had been a dramatic prick, so I couldn't even say I was surprised to learn he'd crafted a religion centered around his followers confessing their greatest, most deplorable sins - engraved on shards of bone, no less.

Aelin had met him, knew the depths of his depravity - and appeared only marginally irritated by his machinations within Erilea. Rhysand himself had told us of her refusal to be cowed by the primordial being, so no -

No, I doubted the Bone Carver had anything to do with the slightly vacant glaze to her eyes. It was something else. Something, I suspected, that had to do with the confession that had been carved into the wall by the husband of her long-dead ancestor. The confession alone was bad enough - confirming our suspicions that Erawan was alive and well in this realm. Considering how our last confrontation with a Valg king had gone...

Pain. Heart-stopping pain as an ash bolt impaled itself in my chest.

Aelin's blood-curdling scream piercing through the haze of my agony.

Cassian - my brother - crumpled on the ground. Blood pooling around him from his ravaged wings - the cost of protecting me.

The soul-shredding anguish as I was helpless to do anything but watch as Aelin disappeared with the King of Hybern - sacrificing herself for us.

I blinked, forcibly tearing myself free of the memories that still haunted me. Memories that would be reason enough for Aelin's disquiet, and yet...

I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else to it, some other aspect of the confession that - for whatever reason - she hadn't yet shared with us. Something she hadn't wanted to speak aloud when she'd translated the carefully drawn markings aloud.

I eyed the disgraced captain of the guard as we trekked back through the sewers, wondering if her reticence was due to his irritating presence.

I certainly wasn't thrilled that he had accompanied us.

Realistically, I understood Aelin had wanted him here for a reason, and that his cooperation would benefit Aelin's plans - not that she had deigned to fill us in on how, exactly - but it still rankled. Though I knew there was no realm in which the human was competition for my mate's affections, I was still painfully aware with every breath he took that the unexceptional human had once been - however briefly - her lover.

Every moment spent near him was an exercise in restraint.

The primal part of me wanted nothing more than to carve out his eyes for daring to look at what he had no right to see, to remove his hands for daring to touch what was mine. To rip out his tongue for speaking to my mate in the way that he had - for calling her a fucking monster - despite the fact that he still obviously harbored feelings for her.

And harbor feelings he did. Any fool could see it in the way he still watched her.

The human may have convinced himself that he hated her, that she was a threat, but the way his jaw tightened as he watched Rowan reach out an arm to effortlessly pull Aelin out of the sewers - the perfect picture of a solid, unbreakable team - told an entirely different story. I had no doubt that deep in his subconscious, he was cursing himself for losing the greatest thing that could have ever happened to him.