Shadows Whisper | | Azriel

34

"Do you think Rhys is good?" Astryn asked Azriel after her days of silence.

"I do," Azriel confirmed, and it was the truth. He and Rhys weren't on good terms as of late, but that didn't change the fact that he knew beyond any doubt that Rhys was good.

"I can feel your...your anger at him through our bond," she confessed, sparking a bit of guilt to life in him. Had he accidentally poisoned her against her brother? Was his anger and resentment contributing to her refusal to let Rhys have a place in her life?

"We had a disagreement," he said, choosing his words carefully, "and I am working on forgiving him for it. But don't let my current feelings towards him make you doubt his goodness. He is a good male. He loves his family. He loves you."

"He doesn't even know me," she mumbled, and Azriel almost laughed.

"He doesn't have to know you to love you. You're his sister. He loves you and he'd do anything for you and your safety. Don't ever doubt that. He is...he's the family I chose. I call him and Cassian my brothers and they call me theirs. I don't grant things like that lightly, not after what my half-brothers did to me as a child. Family has to be earned for me now, and he earned it. Allow him the chance to do that with you too," he suggested, trying to shove down his lingering anger. "I think it would do you a lot of good to let him in. He's worthy of at least a chance."

"Am I?" she asked so quietly that he almost didn't even hear her.

"You are," he confirmed, his arms tightening around her and his wings closing in around them. "You're worthy of everything good in the world."

He believed that so thoroughly, to his very core. She was worthy of everything good, of better than he could ever give her. He didn't understand how he ended up as her mate. Even after everything that had been done to her, she had no desire to hurt anyone. She didn't grow cold and violent. She was just good. She was as good as he was bad. His equal opposite. He supposed that's why they were mates. Despite being entirely different than him, she was still his equal. He hoped that he never tainted her goodness with all of his terribleness, hoped his that willingness to maim and murder never rubbed off on her or made her want to run away from him. She had seen him drenched in blood and radiating primal fury when he took her from the Autumn Court, and she didn't shy away from him then. But he knew he could be worse than he was then. He could be far worse. He killed in her name and he'd do it again if he was given reason to, if he ever found anyone else involved in her imprisonment. He'd kill for her again then. And, if her life wasn't in immediate danger when that time came, he would drag it out in a way he couldn't with Killan. He would torture them for months—for years, even. He would do unspeakable things, and he would hope she could still love him at the end of it. She wouldn't ever know what he did because he wouldn't share that with her, but she would know he did something terrible. So, he only hoped she could still look at him the same when it was over. He could only hope that, if he asked her that same question—if he was worthy, that her answer would be yes even if he didn't think himself to be worthy.

"You are worthy, Azriel," Astryn muttered, and he wondered if the bond had allowed her to hear his thoughts or if his shadows had whispered them to her. "I still don't fully understand what a mate is, but I'm grateful that you're mine."

He resisted the urge to growl in pleasure at that, at the sound of her calling him his. It sparked something inside of him that certainly wasn't appropriate at the moment.

"I'm grateful you're mine too," he said simply, ignored that thing that ached inside of his chest, that longing and desperation.

She pulled away and stared up at him for a few seconds before she reached up and gently touched his face. He leaned into the feeling of it, a shaking breath escaping his parted lips. He closed his eyes, focusing entirely on the way her hand felt against his face.

"You're so beautiful," she muttered before she dropped her hand and leaned against him again. Her head rested on his chest and he knew she could hear how his heart raced.

He couldn't find words, so he stayed quiet and basked in the glory that was his mate.

It was silent for over an hour before he spoke.

"When you're ready to leave this place, I want to show you my home. I have...I have a place that's just mine. I haven't shown it to anyone before. I want to take you there."

She almost smiled, something warming inside of her.

"I'd like to go there eventually," she told him, "but leaving here is...it's terrifying."

"We can stay here for as long as you need. It'll still be there when you're ready to go."