Olethros

twenty three - freyja

When I imagined Azriel returning to me, I didn't expect it to be like this. This male was terrifying, a creature that had taken lives and bathed in their blood, but he was not that creature now. My fingers laced in his hair, clutching his head to my chest as he cried. His body shook so violently, I thought the entire cabin would shake with him.

I spent a while whispering into his hair that everything would be fine, he was safe, everything was okay. I didn't know what had set him off like this. I didn't know if anything would be alright, but he deserved the illusion. His shaking slowed eventually, his hands clamping down on my waist. I leaned back, offering him the chance to sit up.

"Azriel," I spoke his name softly. I felt his grip tighten. His body shifted back but his head still hung. I took a chance and brought my hand to his jaw like I had before. My heart was pounding, a thunderous sound in my ears when he peered at me through the strands of damp hair that hung over his eyes. There were so many emotions in that small glimpse. The one I could feel was his rage, a small taste of salty sorrow, but the rage made my throat tighten.

His hand lifted to my jaw, mirroring my own touch. His thumb tilted my chin up as he rose on his knees. My lips parted, my hand slipped down to his chest. This wasn't the male who cried in my arms. The way he looked at me now held a look of a predator. The primal fear deep in me rose, though an excitement joined it. His head tilted slightly, moonlight casting over one eye.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, dragging his thumb over the rapid beat of my pulse as he fit his hand around my throat. All I could focus on was the feel of his hand against me, imagining what he would do if we were anyone else.

"You shouldn't apologize for how you feel," I whispered, my eyes dropping to the downward curve of his lip. I didn't want to move. I feared that if I moved at all, he wouldn't keep touching me. I was entirely addicted to the way his gloved hands felt on my skin.

"I shouldn't have put that on you," he answered. His voice sounded deep and ragged, as though he just spent time clawing at his throat. I wanted so badly for him to lean down and kiss me, but I couldn't help but feel like he needed to talk. My fingers closed around the fabric on his chest as I met his eyes with a forced smile.

"Tell me why you feel like this."

He didn't want to, I could see that much. His throat bobbed, his eyes glanced to the window. I rose higher on my knees, sinking back down when his grip on my throat tightened. "Who will I tell? It'll be like you're speaking to a wall, Azriel. I just want to be able to help you."

His chin dipped slightly and I felt his warm breath against my lips. I frowned at the scent of whiskey. I wanted to know what he tasted like without the sharp drink.

"I get flashbacks," he croaked. I stiffened, realizing he truly would tell me what was on his mind. "They hit me at random times. Memories of the war, of the fields. I always have this feeling deep in me. It's like anger-"

He cut himself off, squeezing his eyes shut. I rose on my knees again, tugging at him with the grip on his shirt. Azriel's hand squeezed my throat but I didn't back down. I wanted to soothe him, though I had no experience in how to do it. I trusted my instincts and lifted my head, pressing a soft kiss to his chin. Azriel let out a small noise from deep in his throat.

"I feel a constant anger. I need release sometimes, and I have certain ways to do that, but I can't anymore. The past three weeks had been nearly as bad as when the war ended. I haven't been able to... handle it."

I kissed his chin again. Azriel shuddered. "How do you handle it normally?"

His hand squeezed my throat. I needed to clench my thighs as a rush of warmth curled through me. "Sex. Violence. Both," he whispered. I stilled, my breath catching on his palm. I hadn't expected that, nor did I expect the desire that rose at his words. I squeezed my thighs together again, whimpering at the tension. Azriel sucked in a breath as his hand tightened, jolting my face up.