Dance of Shadows / Azriel x Oc

Chapter Eleven

Azriel screamed.

He screamed, feeling her fade away, feeling their bond wane.

He had heard what it was like, to lose a mate. It was described as the feeling of the world crashing down, of it filling the surviving mate with so much rage and grief that they would destroy themselves, or go insane.

Azriel had always believed the stories to be dramatic. How could losing someone be truly that bad?

But now, as Asteria took her final breath, he realized he had underestimated it.

The world around him was burning. Everything was fading into nothing. His heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest and thrown into a fire as roaring as the sounds that left his mouth.

He could not hear Mor begin to cry, or Rhysand's sobs. He did not feel when Cassian tried to pry him away from Asteria's body. He could not feel anything aside from the lack of their bond, the lack of her. It felt like his very soul had been ripped away, like she had taken it with her when she drew her final breath.

He cried and cried, until his throat could no longer take it. Azriel buried his face into her hair, his forehead resting on her cold neck as tears fell down his face, as he sobbed silently.

He had failed her. She had saved his life, and yet he had failed her. His mate. The one person who had never, ever, shied away from him. Even when he hurt her. Even when he let his usual mask down, showing her all the rage he kept locked away in the darkest parts of his soul. No, she had loved those parts of him. She had never been afraid of his shadows.

She had been the only person who had been able to make his shadows disappear completely.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Asteria." He whispered against her skin. He should have never let her help him. He should have died out there, fighting for her the way she had fought for him. That stupid arrow had been aimed at him. It should have been him. He should be dead.

"Why would you do that? Why would you jump?" He questioned, his trembling voice inaudible to anyone else.

"Because I'm so much stronger than you."

Mor gasped. Rhysand let out a small sob. Azriel jerked his head up, his eyes wide as they'd ever been.

Smirking back at him, was Asteria, alive as ever. Her face was still pale, and she was still trembling, but she was alive.

Azriel didn't dare question how, the feel of their bond reviving, stronger than it had been before.

Everyone gaped at her, nobody quite believing it. Majda, at least, rushed back to inspect her wound, gasping just as she had when she's first seen it. The black lines were gone. Only the arrow wound remained, which although it wasn't very great either, wouldn't kill her.

"Why is it so cold in here?" Asteria hissed. Rhysand barked out a laugh. Azriel could do nothing but stare at her in shock.

Asteria looked at him, their eyes locking. Something passed between them, similar to what he's felt when he looked into her eyes after she broke his wrist, only stronger. Everything else faded away, and the only thing that mattered, the only thing that existed, was her. She was the one keeping him grounded to the world. She was the one giving him air, the one pumping his blood into his heart.

She was his punishment, he supposed, for every bad thing he had ever done. For no one could make him bleed like she did.

...

"Azriel." Rhysand said for the third time. The shadowsinger finally shifted, realizing his friend was speaking to him. Six hours had passed since he and Asteria had come back. After Majda had examined Asteria completely, cleaning the countless cuts that she had acquired, the girl had finally fallen asleep in her own bed. Azriel hadn't left her side, despite her assuring him she was fine, that he needed to be examined as well.