Mercy and the Merciless Alpha

Chapter Eleven

this chapter contains a little spicy material, read at your own discretion; )

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Azrael moved with furious, calculated speed as he hauled me out of room, through the portal and up through the water. His ominous warning ringing through my ears on a constant loop.

I also recalled how Azrael's original plan in the beginning during his pretend good guy, bracelet era and it was to simply execute me. My blood ran cold, what if this is what Azrael was planning to do with me? What if this was it?

When we breeched the surface, I was pinned neatly against Azrael's chest. Our shirts clung to our bodies as we were suspended in the middle of the pond treading water. I felt my heart nearly leap out of its chest, my labored breathing from all of the commotion suddenly vanish as I sucked in a breath. I looked up at Azrael and for the briefest of moments I watched his enraged features falter ever so slightly and I knew he could feel it too. He reached his hand to caress my face, the internal battle he was waging with his wolf on full display across his features as his gaze bore down onto me. Azrael's hand suddenly halted in midair as if an invisible force was holding his arm away from me, my eyes darted to the  side and i noticed black liquid flowing beneath his skin as if it was coursing through his veins.

It was my involuntary nature to care, to a fault even because here i was pressed against a cruel alpha who happened to be my mate and I was concerned for him.

"Azrael," I whispered, my words almost failing to be heard in the cool breeze of the evening, "Your arm...."

My words snapped him out of whatever trance he was in and Azrael dropped his hand and silently proceeded hauling me out of the water with even more vigor than before.

I'd never seen anything like it before, it was like ink was crawling beneath his skin—it was terrifying. It kept creeping up his bicep and shoulder, slowing when it began to reach his neck.

"Something's not right, let me—" I tripped over a root because of the callous pace Azrael was towing me at. I groaned and dug my heels into the dirt and tried to yank my arm free, "Let me f:king help you!"

My toxic trait was caring too much about basically everyone around me in my life, especially those who didn't deserve it. This was a perfect example of my dumbass-ery.

Azrael suddenly stopped and faced me, the heaviness of his gaze and the weight of the cuff around my wrist letting me know I'd definitely made a mistake offering my help up.

"I will not ever be tainted by your unnatural dark magic nor will you ever have the opportunity to perform your little act so long as I am breathing." He gritted out, eyes fluctuating between blue and black as he fought for composure over his wolf.

I tightened my jaw, desperately trying to keep myself from flying off the handle to an unstable alpha, teetering on the edge of control. "Fine," I finally bit out with as much malice I could muster, "Have fun being poisoned to death, rot for all I care."

It was a lie, I knew this deep down. There wasn't a single bone in my body that wanted Azrael to die and it infuriated me relentlessly.

My words caught him off guard, his steely composure dropping. "You think this is some sort of poison?" Azrael then laughed out bitterly, "You really are a naive little girl."

I felt my cheeks burn red from anger. There was a considerable age gap between us, I was freshly turned eighteen and Azrael no doubt hovered around the late late twenties but his comment still burned me to the core.

Without thinking I raised my hand and attempted to swing it at his face but he all too easily caught my wrist before I reached even remotely close to him. "Thank you for reminding me of what I came here to do," and then he unceremoniously continued to drag me back towards the prison.