Azrael’s wife.
“Services will be the same this week, as I cannot stop them,” he went on, something chilling in his voice. “You will go see the Leaders as you normally would, but during the service, you will sit beside me. That is why I had to tell you. Things will be different on Sunday. The following Sunday, after the service, we are to be married. After that, you will not return to this…hovel. You will come to our house.”
Ourhouse.
“For now, we focus on what will happen on Sunday, and then we’ll carry on with my plan,” Azrael continued. “You have to understand that this has made them angry. Me walking you into that church will make them angry because now they know that as soon as you sign that certificate, you are mine. They don’t get to touch you after that.”
“You are mine.”Every other word floated away after that. I was his. I belonged to Azrael. Not the church, not Thomas or the Leaders. I washis.
“Are you listening to me?” he asked, his voice a quiet hum of a threatening storm.
I tapped my finger on the cane.
“Sunday is going to be painful,” he began again. “They will take out their aggression on you, their anger, their loss.”
It wasn’t something I was unfamiliar with.
“They will punish you because they cannot punish me, and I will not be able to stop them,” he said, something shifting in his voice. That lilt became more unhinged, more chaotic. “I will not be able to punish them for what they do to you, but what I will do, what I expect you to do, is harness the anger you feel because you will need it again. When we flood this world with blood, it won’t be only me wielding that blade, do you understand me? Whoever you want to kill, however you want to take their life, you may do that, but it cannot be now.”
Part of me wondered if he was talking to himself as much as he was talking to me, but another part of me didn’t care. Before my first session with Azrael, I had accepted that this would be my life. Being shared, being penetrated by everyone at the church, being stuffed with Thomas’ children only to have to give them up to him. But now?
Now I had a rabbit with my friend’s voices. Now I had the power to look Azrael in the eyes. Now I craved blood.
All I wanted was for Sunday to be over, because once it was over, my new life could start.
I swallowed and slowly opened my eyes, finding his instantly. His pupils were slightly larger again, his gaze holding the wait of a rage I could fully comprehend. The rage of a life lost. A life stolen. A life we never got to live. Rage at everyone and everything who had taken it from us. I could feel it burning deep within my soul. A fire I had never felt before, forced myself not to feel. A black fire burning so hot, it turned my insides to stone and filled me with the magic of our Hysteric Wonderland.
A slow smile crawled across his beautiful face. “Let’s get started.”
35
Azrael
March 15th, 2023
Igestured for the couch before finally releasing her chin. It took a moment for her to release the cane, as if she was using it to anchor herself to this moment.
My eyes tracked her as she picked up the rabbit and held it to her stomach on her way to the couch. She had done well, holding my gaze after years of looking at the ground, but it was time to push her. She was strong enough to be pushed without breaking, and I intended to push as hard as I could. Now wasn’t the time for games, for hesitation, for coddling. I had stolen the Blessed One from the church, I suspected, even if they still had no inkling of who I was, that they would start whispering, wondering why I had come to the church, worked my way into the transporter job, paid far more than the church was worth to purchase the hand of Scarlett Harris.
And I was sure those whispers would eventually get back to the Elders, to the Founder.
Which meant that there wasn’t time to coddle. I was going to push her with everything I was, and she would not shatter. She wasn’t allowed.
For the next few days, I planned on coming over and teaching her how to communicate effectively until she was able to find her voice again. Perhaps her new voice would be found in her hands rather than her throat. I didn’t care how she learned,she just needed to learn. We needed a more in depth way to communicate. A way to have real conversations. A way for me tohearher voice as well as I could read her thoughts.
I joined her on the couch moments later. “A couple of hours a day should do you well in your communication skills,” I began easily.
Her brows furrowed ever so slightly before smoothing out.
“I’m going to teach you more sign language,” I explained, setting my cane to one side. “While I do this, you will watch me. I will not tell you the motions I am making, you must watch. It’s good to exercise your new line of sight.”
It took her several seconds to comply, which I expected, and her eyes didn’t meet mine for more than a second before they fell to my lips. That was also fine. Not many people could look me in the eyes. Even my own brothers had trouble holding my gaze, although she had done well since my arrival.
There were many words I wanted to teach her, but there were also words I refused to teach her. Sorry, for one. She would not learn to apologize when there was nothing to apologize for. I would not allow her to get into that habit.
Mercy. She would never need that one. Not in my world.
But for right now, we needed to start with the basics. “We’ll learn the letters first,” I explained. “Some words don’t have signs to go with them, most commonly, names. They are spelled out until you find a word that best describes your name, for instance, your name is Scarlett.” I signed the letters slowly, saying the letter as I signed it. “Or you could simply say ‘Red’.” I placed my index finger on my bottom lip and pulled it down.
