With the cold air caressing her while flying, she felt in awe, to be in his arms, in the air, the silence. Just upon the horizon, the house comes into the distance. The inner-circle had given her shelter in their home. Letting her stay in the guest house. The tall building, detailed with a warm black and silver marbling, she felt secure, just gazing at the walls reminded her that this felt like home. She could belong here. Being in the guest house was a kind gesture, to give her space to be alone, but what they didn't know was that she was always alone.
Azriel descended below, wings opening wide, as he landed on top of the guest house's roof. Azriel gently lowers her to the ground, while she was finding her footing. Leaving his embrace, she felt the cold chill of the night air pass around her. She looks towards the roof door, her feelings all over the place, not knowing what she would do next.
"Thank you for bringing me back." She said half-heartedly. The events had messed with her, she couldn't shake it off.
" I rather know you have made it back safely than allow you to walk alone. It's the least that I could do." He replied, looking towards her. The feeling in the atmosphere shifted, she knew he was wary of what had happened.
She continues to stare at the door as if it was going to swallow her whole. Her mind going one hundred miles a minute, not knowing how to clear her mind and feel peace. Maybe being alone could help her sort through what happened or make it worse.
Azriel trailed her stare to the door. His sharp features still as stone. His eyes
solemn, as if he could sense the feelings oozing off her.
"Let's get you in and cleaned up, it's freezing and you're not dressed for cold weather. You might catch a fever." He places a hand behind her back, gently guiding her to the door. Such gentleness from him, something she never would've expected from an Illyrian that had been training for over 500 years of his life. A male who had crushed armies with his hands and powers. People who have felt the brutal side to his touch, but never the soft side. His shadows were covering them and keeping them warm as they made their way inside.
The light touch from him made her blood rush, feeling warmth creeping back into her. The touch wanted her to feel him, to relax in his arms, to feel safe like she did on the flyover. It made her feel things that she couldn't do or ever allow herself to feel. Being vulnerable to another soul was something she swore she wouldn't let herself do again.
Azriel opens the door and guides her down the hall to her bedroom, sitting her down on the small couch.
" I'll be right back," he says reassuringly, while he disappears out the room, leaving her to assess her surroundings, she could never feel safe until she followed her instincts.
The room had a large bed that was pressed against the middle of the wall. Along one side there is a large window that allowed the night light to pour through. The thick dark curtains tied neatly on the side. Allowing the beauty of the moon to shine through, making the room glisten. The room was beautiful, it was so different to what she was accustomed to, it was possibly the best room she has ever had. She turned to catch a sight of her in the mirror. Her olive tan skin had gone pale. As if she was a ghost, drifting between the worlds. Her hair wild from the flying. "Wow, I look like a mess", she thought. Distantly she hears the cupboards opening and the sound of items shifting and the tap is turned on.
She wondered if she must have given him a fright if she looked like this. Not even the tip of the iceberg of how she felt underneath. All that relentless darkness, eating her alive. Knowing the person she wants the most doesn't recognise her in the way she wanted him to.
Her mind drifts off what had happened. Replaying it in her mind, dazing off, feeding off the memory and the emotion. Everything around her dimmed like a blanket had been thrown over her. Suffocating her, she started to panic.
As quickly as it came, the cool shadows caressed her face. Whispering to her, as an attempt to calm her down. Trying to get a grip of her breathing she turns her face to the door. Azriel watching her with predatory stillness.
His hazel eyes track her up and down, gazing around the room for the threat that may have caused the sudden change of emotion in the air. Thinking a physical threat had caused her panic. He watches as the shadows swirl around her trying to comfort her. His face shifts slightly to show confusion.
" They have never done that before."
She stilled in her tracks, looking towards him as a cold chill waved over her. Could it be? Did his shadows recognise her and he didn't? Was it possible?
" Never?" she questioned.
" They don't really go to others at all. They used to play with ...." his face had a shadow of pain.
" used to?" She questioned. She knew she shouldn't pry but she had always been curious.
"They used to play with Rhys's little sister. When she was a child. She was the only one that didn't cringe or see me differently. Maybe it was because she has known me her entire life and didn't know any better. " A pained expression stretches across his face.
" She must have loved you so much that she didn't fear them. You can choose to love or fear something. Fear can get you killed or change if you give yourself the right motivation." She looks into his eyes intensely. The shift in the conversation made memories resurface in her mind.
She shifts slightly and looks towards the window, staring towards the moon.
After a few moments. Azriel asks
"You speak from experience don't you?"
The memories that resurfaced made her feel like nothing. Crumbling her self worth. Making her switch between each broken memory that caused her pain. But she was free of that. She was here, with him.
" yes. I do speak from experience..."
