“Why?” He smirked. “Does it bother you?”
Nymiria wanted to throttle him. Not just for his cocky demeanor, but for the irritating truth that, yes, it did bother her. And it had since the moment she saw them together. “Do you want it to bother me?”
Aziel shrugged. “Yes, I do.”
They stared at one another, unblinking, until her skin felt as if it would burst into flames. She didn’t know much about the inner-workings of a mating bond, but she was almost certain that this new heat in her body was to blame for it.
She was finally able to look away from him, clearing her throat as she stepped closer to him. "Thank you," Nymiria whispered. "For helping me find the witch I needed. You didn't have to, considering you have no idea why I need one."
Aziel flicked the book closed, his blue eyes clouded with a rage that was not directed towards her. She'd seen this look before, already knowing that he was hurting for her. Again. Willing to tear the world apart to defend her without question. "I know exactly why you need one." It was all he said before closing the space between them, drawing her close enough so that their lips brushed when he spoke again. "I'll tell you again something that I have said from the beginning. Whenever you are finally free from the evil that binds you… aim for the heart."
"I will." She pressed a smile onto her face, hoping that it would be enough. Knowing that she was close to having her powers returned should have been a comfort, but there was an inexplicable fear inside of her—a fear of the unknown, a fear of the responsibilitythat would follow.
His finger pressed against the underside of her chin, gently forcing her to look up at him. "I have somewhere I need to go." Nymiria frowned. "I'll be back before sunset."
Being the God of Death came with great responsibility. One of those responsibilities being that he was in charge of keeping the Otherworld in order. It wasn't too hard of a job and it often came with perks—whether it was contacting deceased friends or torturing some bastard that had caused immeasurable amounts of pain on the corporeal plane, he rather enjoyed both.
A few months prior, he'd had a run-in with a Necromancer that was trying to resurrect the brother of the woman he loved. Aziel didn't usually allow necromancy in his realms, but the poor bastard seemed desperate. He could allow it a few times. Plus, whoever this Necromancer was, did a pretty good job at taking care of the hell hounds.
Every time that Aziel traveled to the realms of hell, it’d always been with the purpose of inflicting pain upon those who most deserved it. It only bothered him sometimes, that he was the one who decided the punishments for those depraved souls. He felt it instilled in him a sort of confidence that had the potential to become quite dangerous. There was a fine line when it came to power and there were many who crossed it completely, without an ounce of remorse or humility.
The realm of hell that he was now standing in was his humility—a prison fortified by the nightmares of his own making. A realm for the lost souls who were still tethered to the earth or earthly things. But not all the souls who wandered this prison were lost, some of them remained with a purpose from their past life that’d followed them to their graves.
Owen Dochartaigh was not a hard man to find.
As a form of gratitude for protecting someone that meant the world to him, Aziel had given Owen one of the most honorable jobs in all the realms of hell. Hewas right where Aziel had left him—in that small cabin on the banks of the river of souls, his vacant eyes keeping a close watch on each soul that passed through on their journey. Some of them would pass through the realm, drifting so far that their souls would eventually vanish into the ether. The others would veer right, towards the large mouth of the caves that would ensnare them for all eternity, haunted and tortured by sluaghs and other fomorians of the sort—monstrous creatures, really.
Even Aziel felt fear when looking upon their grotesque forms.
He drew in a deep breath, removing the gloves from his hands and stuffing them into his pocket before falling into place beside Owen.
Both of them watched as a soul drifted past them, her hands outstretched and gripping at the surface of the water, as if she were still trying to grip onto the memories of the life she was leaving behind.
Owen acknowledged him after a few more moments of silence, eyes flickering from the curved black horns on Aziel’s head to his scarred hands before settling on his face. In hell, Aziel took his godly form, his hair turning black as night and those curved horns sprouting from his head. He wasn't too thrilled with how it made him look, but Teigh claimed that it was necessary—that the creatures of the Otherworld need to know who was in command. “Haven’t seen you around these parts in quite some time.”
Aziel nodded. “I’ve been particularly busy.”
“Aye,” Owen smirked. “Liberating the Mother’s Devils, or so I’ve heard. Founding your own kingdom, too.”
“Thorn is founding the kingdom. I am just delivering his people.” Owen didn’t respond to this. He just kept his gaze fixed on the souls passing through. “How has the weather been?” Aziel sighed.
A smile spread across Owen’s face. Even in death, his dimples were as charming as ever. “Quite dreary, I must say. I haven’t seen the sun in what feels likeyears.”
Aziel huffed, folding his arms over his chest as he looked at the dark horizon with thoughtful eyes. “Perhaps I can work some magic and make that happen for you, old friend.”
Old friend.
The words lingered between the two of them, both with arms folded across their chests. There was enough tension between them that you could nearly see it.
Owen knew why he’d come.
He looked solemn as he stared out at the open waters, grey eyes that were once a vibrant green narrowed at the storm roiling just over the mouth of the cave. “You best get out with it,” Owen started. “Storm’s blowing in quickly.”
Aziel didn’t know where to begin. After Nymiria’s confession, it left him feeling just as lost as the souls that were wandering the darkness behind them. Nymiria’s heart was broken, forever haunted with the choices she made, forever trapped here in the Otherworld watching and waiting for his loved ones to find him.
“She’s stuck there.” Aziel began. “She relives it every single day.”
Owen nodded, fingers digging into his forearms as he turned to look at Aziel. “I never meant for things to go as far as they did, Aziel. When you tasked Desi and I to watch over her, I did my best to view her as a job and nothing more. But I…”
