“There’s a war going on and the two of you are here playing a card game?” Said Nymiria, searching for any sort of topic to end the deafening silence.
Aziel stared at her for a moment longer before his eyes finally dropped to the cards in his hands. He’d removed his gloves at some point, his long fingers skillfully toying with the deck. “We’ve been in a war room all morning,” he sighed. “It’s as close as I can get without breaking the rules.”
“Rules?”
He nodded. “Rules.” He placed the cards onto the table in a neat stack before taking up his glass. “Even the gods have limits. One of mine is that I cannot offer aid in warfare. I can create strategies and offer my insight in terms of tactics, but beyond that it would be a crime, for lack of better words.”
“Do I have any rules?” She didn’t mean to ask the question aloud, but perhaps it was better that she had.
Aziel nodded slowly, eyes glazed as if deep in thought. “Using Life’s powers for your own personal gain. Attaining riches, granting yourself fertility. Using any of your powers for yourself is a big rule-breaker.”
“That’s it, then?” She cringed at the final swallow of the whiskey, her face scrunching up. “I can’t be selfish?”
“Correct.”
“Have you ever broken the rules?”
Aziel’s eyes met hers for a moment before he tossed back the remnants of amber liquid in his glass. He let out a soft grunt, that rigidity returning to his muscles. “Yes,” he began. “And Ican sincerely say that the risk was far more impactful than the reward.” Nymiria could tell that he didn’t want her to press the matter, so she left the conversation to die where it was. They sat in that thick silence for a while longer before Aziel rose to his feet. “Come. I’ll walk you to your rooms.”
She eyed him as he approached, her cheeks shamelessly blazing when he extended his hand in her direction. Her fingers fell into his palm and he was guiding her to her feet and then towards the door. Her body was on fire—every inch of her skin responding to that single touch. Perhaps she was imagining it, but she swore she saw the blacks of his eyes flare the moment it happened. Her mind buzzed with ceaseless thoughts as they walked towards her rooms. She felt like she was floating on air—like the hand that was resting against the small of her back would burn through her clothing and melt away all of her defenses.
“Are you alright?” Aziel asked, his sure stride faltering as he looked down at her.
Nymiria felt his fingers spread against her back, her breath hitching slightly when his thumb drew a little too close to the curve of her waist. “I’m…drunk.” She lied. Perhaps it wasn’texactlya lie. She wasn’t sober, by any means, but she also hadn’t drank enough to feel quite like this. What she felt now was…
Other. A heat that was not simple arousal or even inebriation.
Aziel was no fool. He could see through every single one of her lies, as always. Even when she desperately wished he couldn’t. Nymiria could see it in his eyes—an unspoken truth that lingered between the two of them. The attraction was undeniable. Perhaps, she thought, it was fine to let it exist; to let their attraction to one another linger, but never come to fruition again. She believed that it could be alright knowing that it was there, like an understanding both of them had to soothe their horrible and aching hearts.
Never crossing that line would be difficult, but she’d managedyearswithout his touch. She could do it again.
Maybe.
Even though Nymiria knew that nightmares waited for her on the other side of the door they were now standing in front of, she was grateful to see it. Grateful to know that once that door closed, she could wallow in her misery all she wanted and be angry at him all she wanted. It was so much harder being angry when he stood in front of her looking likethis.
“Goodnight, Moonflower.”
His voice, thick with something undeniably sensual, cascaded over her skin like warm honey. She forced a weak and worthless smile. “Goodnight, demon.”
Hours later, when the nightmares and screams and prayers of haunted, helpless souls returned and not even the faint glow of aura-lights dispersed around her room brought her comfort, Nymiria sat up in her bed and sighed.
Chapter 8
Sweat drenching her back and neck, Nymiria slowly pulled herself out of the bed. The shadows in her room and the hall were looming and ominous, making it feel as if the world was caving in on her, swallowing her whole.
The slapping of her feet against the stones of the hall were the only sound she could hear—not even her pulse could be heard.
She charged towards Aziel’s room, hating herself, hating the fact that she couldn’t sleep for more than a few hours anywhere else, hating the fact that she didn’twantto. That room at the end of the hall on the other wing, the one that Aziel made for her, didn't feel like hers at all. Though the person who’d decorated and stocked it had seemingly been very selective over every miniscule detail, it didn’t feel welcoming. It felt like someone was locking her away, shutting her out. It felt like resentment.
When she reached the door, there was light seeping out from the crack between it and the floor. A soft golden glow, like that of a fire. The aura lights had been dimmed and she brieflywondered if perhaps she should turn around and go back. She almost did. Instead, she took one glance back at the all-consuming darkness and reached for the knob.
The dining room was vacant and dark, the smell of early-spring flowers seeping in through the open balcony. She glanced out at the night, eyeing the winking of the stars as she padded across the floor to his sleeping chambers.
The door was left open, roughly an inch, but just enough for her to peek inside to see if he was asleep or awake.
Her heart sank.
Aziel was most certainly awake.
