Elana waited nervously in the tub, listening for any news about Zane and the others.
A knot of discomfort twisted in her chest—it had unsettled her when Azael had stopped so abruptly.
But the kiss…
She slowly leaned back against the warm water, her body trembling as the memory washed over her.
His mouth was feral on hers this time.
His face buried in her neck, breath hot and heavy against the delicate wound that was there—not painful…intoxicating.
Pleasure had bloomed through her so fiercely that she couldn't stop the shameful little sounds that slipped from her lips.
Elana bit down softly on her lower lip, hugging her arms around her chest as she recalled the hard strength of his shoulders—unmoving under her weight.
And his hair…long and silken. She let out a breathy giggle. She'd always thought men preferred their hair short.
But not Azael.
He wasn't human after all.
And perhaps…she had never been built for a human to love, either.
**
Azael eyed the pitiable crew Elana had forced him to rescue.
A red-haired woman—dyed, not natural—steadying a massive bald man who looked half-conscious.
The sorry excuse of a man clutching his broken wrist—the brown haired, green-eyed one Elana kept reaching for.
The only thing he appreciated Fen for.
His jaw tightened. It infuriated Azael that Elana had clung to that man as if he could save her.
Azael scoffed from his throne, the moment they stepped into his hall. "Pitiful."
The woman's eyes widened as she glanced around, just as Zane did. "This is a real castle." she breathed. "I'm Cara. Good sir."
Azael's gaze slid over her—blue eyes that held fire beneath calm. He gave a short nod.
"I'm Zane." the man said next.
Azael looked at him only briefly. Rough…but kind. His brain flickered with memories of the battlefield before he turned away.
"My minions will escort you to quarters where you rest," he said. "On behalf of Elana, I extend my…kindness."
"Azael," Cara murmured absently, her stare lingering on him.
His eyes narrowed. Wondering from the excitement in her eyes if she had picked it up from Fen amidst the trouble or Elana had mentioned it to her.
He suspected it was the latter.
No wonder Elana couldn't let go of the group. It wasn't just because of Zane.
His minion materialized and began directing them toward the inner halls but Zane hesitated.
"What about Elana? Can we see her? To make sure she's okay?"
Azael gave him a calm, lethal stare and Zane's pupils trembled.
"She seemed very okay out there with you. Yes?"
Zane's gaze dropped in shame, and Azael smirked as his minion led them away.
Trisha appeared beside him. "Quite the humanitarian you're becoming."
Azael rolled his eyes. "You want her as alive as I do. I simply saved a helpless girl's life. Nothing more."
Trisha's lips curled with mischief. "Including kissing her and almost claiming her on a balcony? I saw both of you."
Azael turned to the window, the full moon no longer boring to him.
His fists tightened—not at Trisha's words, but at the consequences of his own jealousy.
"Tell me, Azael," Trisha drawled. "How many times have you kissed that blind helpless girl? Her body reacts like it knows you. And she's still innocent."
Azael swallowed hard before meeting her mocking eyes.
He sank back into his throne speechless for the first time—as his mind tried to make sense of this deathly desire fate had tied to his ruin.
"I told you, Zel," Trisha whispered in his ear, "Fate is merciless. The closer you draw to that girl, the more your empire trembles."
"Why?" he breathed, "I never asked to be like this. I never asked to be a demon."
"I know my sweet Zel," she murmured, her dandelions wrapping softly around him, easing the ache in his chest. Making his pain lighter.
He closed his eyes, remembering the warmth of Elana's skin…and how her body answered him.
"The deeper you go," Trisha whispered again, "the more dangerous it becomes—for both of you."
**
Cara gently placed a blanket over Caesar to keep him warm.
The room that Azael had offered contained twin beds and exuded style, blending old-fashioned aesthetics with luxury that mirrored his commanding aura.
Dim bedside lamps cast a soft glow, highlighting the room's elegance.
The bathroom was a surprising mix of modern and vintage luxury, complete with plush bathrobes, and a nearly magical atmosphere.
The sweet scent of wisteria lingered in the air.
She noticed Zane on the other bed, sitting deep in thought, massaging his wrists.
"Hey, Zane," she called, making him jolt slightly. "Gee, is your mind that restless? I know mine is."
Zane exhaled, "I'm worried about Elana. What that…" He hesitated. "…what that creature wants with her."
"Well, that creature saved us," Cara said calmly. "I don't think we have much choice in this situation."
"Why would he take an interest in a vulnerable blind girl?" Zane spat, his anger rising. "It's probably sorcery. We have to help her."
Cara ignored him, tucking herself in beside Ceasar.
"I'm not delusional, Zane," she said, glancing at her palms.
"I've just seen power beyond humanity after witnessing a fake war. I'm not questioning my life right now because of whatever beef is going on in your head. That man could kill us in a blink, and you know it."
Zane's stare hardened as he swallowed. "It's all sorcery. He wouldn't dare in combat against me."
Cara scoffed, pulling the blanket up around herself.
"I believe it was his fist that sent the bastard that almost killed my man flying into a tree."
She gently rested a hand on Caesar's chest, monitoring his breathing even while he slept. "You should rest, Zane. I'm sure Elana's fine where she is."