Azriel | Lux Ex Tenebris ✓

Chapter 50: Traumatic Pasts

warning: this chapter will deal with Azriel's childhood trauma (abuse) and could probably be a bit harder to read for some people...(if you feel uncomfortable with that topic you can skip to Misma's POV)

✦Azriel POV✦

I had no idea when I had last felt that helpless.

When I had last felt that empty or that shattered. Panic and terror sank their claws into my skin, heart rattling against my chest. Cold sweat broke out on my body, squeezing Misma's lifeless body with my trembling hands.

I knew when I had last felt like that—

The memories that had been locked behind an iron gate in my brain broke free, teared the gate apart, piercing my mind and sinking their fangs into me like serpents.

"Please, don't...please, father I beg you—"
A hard slap landed on my face, icy-heat breaking out on my skin. A sob died in my throat, my blurry, teary gaze meeting my father's.
The faint laughter of my stepmother could be heard in the background. Darkness settled over me when I was once again locked into the cell in the cellar — the dungeon.
Throwing my head back against the wall, I could finally cry. I could finally let my walls shatter and be weak. Pounding my head against the wall a few more times, I dug my nails into my thighs, tears and snot streaming down my face. My throat burned with a sccream. A scream no one would hear. A scream that would die down here like every happy feeling I could have ever felt.
The shadows crawled in on me, slinging around me. At least I had them.

"She can make it, Azriel," Gwyn whispered next to me. Her voice was soft and faint, her slim hand clasping my shoulder.

"Let's see how well the bastard's healing powers work, shall we?" Brack sneered, Sconz holding my shoulders tightly, pressing my back to his chest. My wings were squeezed between both our bodies and I winced loudly, looking between my two step-brothers.
"Wha...what are you—?"
"Shut up, bastard!" Sconz snarled, twisting my arm and a part of my wing, making me scream in pain.
I watched Brack unscrew a bottle of oil, wiggling his brows when he neared me and poured it over my hands.
All I could remember from what happened after that were the flames. I could not remember the pain. All I remembered was that my hands felt cold and hot at the same time, the skin ripping open and then nothing—

"Do something! Someone do something!" I shouted, the back if my mouth burning.

I had to get her back. Misma made me complete and helped me heal. She filled the hollowness — the horrendous emptiness I had felt my whole life. I needed her, needed her in my life. I needed her to live.

I clutched my mates lifeless body tighter to my chest, screaming at her. At the others. She could not be dead. My mate could not be dead. I could not have lost my mate.

"Help her. Someone do something!" Gwyn cried out, pounding her fists onto the ground.

"Someone help her!" I shouted when Rhys approached us with fast steps, letting himself fall onto the ground next to us. I moved away slightly, not letting go of my mate though.

"She is still here. Not completely gone yet. I will try to bring her back with my power....but....I cannot promise anything..." Rhys mumbled, sweat building up on his forehead. He moved his hand to unbutton the top buttons before brushing his hand over his forehead.

I lowered Misma fully to the ground. There was no heartbeat, no breathing. No bond. Nothing.

"Rhys, you have to bring her back. I cannot lose her!" I cried out, bending over and clutching my stomach. This pain was worse than anything I had ever received before. Worse than any pain caused by a weapon. This pain cut so terribly deep, I did not know if I could survive it. If I would survive a life without my mate. I would not. I needed her. She was my life.