Wind Wielder

Chapter 26 - Reckoning, Release, Rebirth

The next morning Zara puked in the toilet. Repeatedly. And once she was finished flushing away her hangover, she paced around her room thrice, paused to bathe, shave, and exfoliate every part of her body, and continued to pace around her room.

She had kissed Azriel last night. And he had let her.

And it had quite possibly been the best kiss of her life.

Zara paced into the bathroom, where she proceeded to comb her still soaking wet hair, and generously apply all kinds of prettily scented leave in conditioners, scrunching her curls carefully.

Of course, she had been drunk. Not wasted, but certainly blurring the lines between tipsy and properly intoxicated. Enough to do such a bold, scandalous action. Drunk enough that her memory may be slightly foggy, but clear enough to remember the way the slide of his hot tongue against hers had every nerve in her body awakening. The way Azriels large hands had felt on her face, his torso pressed heavily against hers.

It had been that smile. That fucking smile on that heavenly face that had sent every thought eddying out of her mind.

Between Azriels godly face and the liquor, Zara honestly thought that she should not be held responsible for a single one of her actions.

And he had kissed her back, anyways.

Azriel had kissed Zara sweet and kind and gentle and soft. All the ways she so desperately craved, but never thought she would deserve. And arguably, that was the most damning part of it all. His gentleness. His care.

Zara picked out her favorite training top, and her favorite loose pair of training pants. She dried her hair carefully with the winds, and may or may not have put on lip gloss before leaving her room for training.

She was sweating. And she hadn't even done any training yet. But perhaps it was just the fact she would be seeing Azriel again so soon.

Would he bring it up? Or would she? Sometimes she had a big mouth when she was nervous. Would he treat her differently? Should she?

Oh great fucking Mother. Would Cassian be there this morning? That male could sniff out emotion like a fucking bloodhound. He'd know in a heartbeat, wouldn't he?

Zara thought of Rhys's advice yesterday, and sent the winds spiraling to eavesdrop ahead of her atop the training arena as she began scaling the staircase.

Cassian's low voice traveled down the spiral staircase to her. "—how long do you think until she'll finally break?"

Azriel huffed a laugh. "You and Rhys have asked me this countless times. I told you, soon. I don't know more than that."

"We placed bets, you know. Unfortunately, if you don't get your mission to crack within the next few weeks, Rhys will win. Care to help a brother out?"

A long suffering amused sigh from Azriel. "I'll break Zara when I think the time is best. It's not necessarily going to suit you, it's going to be when she's ripe for cracking open and spitting it out."

Zara slowly came to a halt on the steps. Her brain going painfully quiet.

I'll break Zara when I think the time is best.

...What?

What was Azriel saying?

What... what the actual fuck was Azriel saying?

Cassian tisked slowly. "How inconsiderate of you, Azriel."

All of the pieces were slowly, horrifyingly falling into place with repulsive ease. There was no way. There was no possible way they could be talking about what she thought they were. Zara didn't want to –couldn't believe it.