Decade | | Azriel

2

Azriel went on for longer than he normally would that night. Much, much longer. She wondered if he planned to keep up that energy the whole weekend. She kind of doubted she would be able to keep up with him if he did. It had been a long time since the last time he was like this. His skin seemed to vibrate with all that pent up energy.

She vividly remembered the last time he was so worked up, so tightly wound. It was before they had regular visits scheduled, the first time she had met him. He hadn't gone in and mingled like so many clients did. He had been one of the more straight to the point types and opted for the survey the club offered. He was given a survey with lists where he could check off his interests and be matched with someone. His preferences matched him with her. They were both so young back then. He was older than her by a few decades, but neither of them had fully matured yet. The War had just ended, Azriel was still working for Rhysand's father—the High Lord at the time. That work had worn on him. Rhysand's father was a far crueler ruler than Rhysand, and Azriel was the blade the male used to enact that cruelty. There were things Azriel would never forget he had done in service of that male. It was in that room with her that he realized he could forget for at least a little while. He could forget with her. Azriel stayed in that room with her from Wednesday night to Tuesday night. It was nonstop—though he had swung back and forth between ruthless and soft, gone from demanding a brat to wanting a good girl. She kept up with him for the entire time, and then she didn't see him again for a hundred years. And now, for the last decade, she saw him every week.

Azriel hadn't ever found anyone who could keep up with him the way she could. He had taken home girls he had met in taverns before, but none of them were quite like her, none satisfied him the way she did. It was what drove him back to her after a hundred years. He would have gone back sooner, but he knew he wouldn't be able to stop going back once he went once.

This had been going on for so long now—a decade of nights spent buried inside of her. He still didn't even know her name. It was club policy that employees didn't share their name with clients. It killed him not to know, but he only asked the first time he saw her. He remembered the way she had grinned at him when he asked, twirled her hair around in that maddening way she still did, and told him he wouldn't ever have enough money to buy her name.

He hadn't let himself tell her but, even back then, he couldn't help but think that he had no intention of buying her name. He wanted to earn it, to be worthy of it. It was something he still so desperately wanted to earn from her, but he knew the chances were slim to none. He could find her name if he really wanted to. It wouldn't be hard, he had enough spies and he had his shadows. It would take five minutes, at most, to find her name. But he wanted her to tell him, to think he was worthy of that knowledge that money couldn't buy.

He sighed softly, pushing those thoughts aside and focusing on spreading the soothing ointments over the already healing welts from the whip. Azriel was one of the few clients who bothered with aftercare. It wasn't a requirement that any client make sure the marks they left faded. The club had healers on the payroll for that job, but Azriel always preferred to be the one to take care of her, to ease the hurt he inflicted upon her. She had realized a long time ago that did almost as much for him as the release of the hurt itself did.

"How does it feel?" Azriel asked, his voice softer now. The controlling, unforgiving male was long gone, replaced by a gentle, kind side so few witnessed from him.

"It doesn't hurt too bad, the ache is there but nothing worse than any other times," she answered, not bothering to try to lie and say she could hardly feel a thing. She used to do that with him, to try to downplay it because she thought he was only asking out of politeness. She had long since realized he would only accept honest answers.