Deadly Nightshade MXMXM

XXII

A scream tore from his throat as he dropped to his knees beside her. Pain and rage twisted inside him, an unbearable ache that made his vision blur. Delores had been a glimmer of light in the darkness, a connection to a world outside the academy's madness. Now, she was gone, brutally taken from him.

Azrael felt something die inside him as he stared at her lifeless body. The pain morphed into a cold, consuming rage. He would make someone pay. He would make them feel the agony he felt now. The academy had already begun to warp his soul, and now, with Delores's death, there was no going back.

The anger and grief twisted into a dark, ravenous hunger within him. It was a hunger for vengeance, for the blood of those who had brought him this agony. Azrael's sanity began to slip, his thoughts consumed by a need for retribution. The academy had pushed him to the edge, and he was teetering on the brink of madness.

Azrael's anger and numbness festered like an open wound. Delores's death had torn something vital from him, leaving a void filled with nothing but rage. Each passing day, he felt himself slipping further from sanity, the dark thoughts gnawing at his mind. He needed to make someone suffer, to inflict the same pain he felt deep within his soul.

The academy's halls became a blur of faces, all of them indifferent to his suffering. He moved through the days like a specter, his eyes cold and empty. The only thing that anchored him to reality was his burning desire for vengeance. The academy had taken everything from him, and he would make them bleed for it.

During training sessions, Azrael's movements were sharp, brutal. He fought with a ferocity that unnerved even the instructors. Every punch, every kick was a release of the pent-up fury inside him. His peers gave him a wide berth, sensing the dangerous edge he now carried.

His training sessions became more intense, each strike fueled by his dark rage. He pushed his body to its limits, the pain a welcome distraction from the torment inside. The other students avoided him, sensing the dangerous aura that surrounded him.

During this time, the twins began to draw closer to him. Their approach was subtle, almost imperceptible. They didn't offer words of comfort or sympathy, but their presence became a constant in his life. Kieran would place a firm hand on his shoulder during training, a silent gesture of support. Lucian would sit beside him in the mess hall, their shared silence more comforting than any words could be.

One evening, as Azrael sat alone in the courtyard, staring blankly at the sky, the twins approached. They didn't speak, simply sat down on either side of him. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken understanding. Kieran's hand brushed against Azrael's, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down his spine. Lucian's gaze was steady, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that Azrael couldn't quite grasp.

In their own  way, the twins were showing their care. Their actions were small, their words few, but the intent was clear. They were there for him, even in the midst of his descent into darkness.

As the days turned into weeks, the bond between Azrael and the twins grew stronger. They remained distant yet close, their gestures becoming more frequent, more intimate. A brush of hands here, a shared glance there. They spoke little, but their presence was a constant source of stability in Azrael's turbulent world.

Azrael found himself drawn to them, despite his inner turmoil. Their dark, dominant presence was a strange comfort, a reminder that he was not alone in his suffering. They were his mates, bound to him by fate and circumstance. And in their own twisted way, they were helping him survive.

The academy continued its relentless march, each day bringing new challenges and new horrors. But through it all, Azrael clung to the connection he had with the twins. It was a lifeline, a beacon of stability in a world gone mad.

In the quiet moments, when the rage subsided and the numbness took over, Azrael found a strange solace in their presence. They were a reminder of what he had lost, but also of what he still had. And as he navigated the darkness that threatened to consume him, he knew that he was not alone.