She’d been sleeping fine until now, her body completely defying the blackened state he’d put her in.
He hated himself for this. Not only because he had no idea on how to help her, but because of how his body was reacting. Nymiria looked to be in pain, her screams and groans rivaling that of someone who’d been severely wounded.
And he couldn’t resist it.
He tried his best to restrain himself, even going so far as to dig his nails into his palms and wrists in hopes that his own pain could distract him from what he was feeling. He wasn’t this person—he couldn’t bethatperson.
But the smell of her, the way her body moved, the way her lips parted and the shaking breaths she panted…
No.He closed his eyes.No.
The door to his sleeping chambers burst open and he watched as Dieve waddled into the room with an overside bag. She wassupported by her cane, her face twisting as if she’d smelled something rancid.
“Gods, I’m surprised that every male within a mile radius hasn’t tried to beat down the door to get in here.” She chuckled. “What seems to be the issue here?”
She was too calm. Far too calm for him to relax.
He glanced at Nymiria, wincing when she gripped at the hem of her dress and pulled at it. “I need to know what is wrong with her.” Aziel stated firmly. “She’s been in immense pain, her body feels as if it’s on fire and—”
Dieve moved around Nymiria’s body. With each poke and prod at her glistening flesh, her body arched and writhed, as if fighting against itself. Aziel’s hands were clenched, the leather of his gloves squelching as he stepped closer to the bed. The old witch whispered something to Nymiria, who simply looked back at her with a wide, frantic expression and nodded.
“She’s entered Caddat.” Dieve sighed, hobbling closer to him. Aziel’s brow furrowed, but before he could question it, Dieve waved away his concerns with the flick of her wrist. “This is natural for women of full-fae lineage. Women of an undiluted bloodline go into a state of intense fertility, a calling of Cadaith, some would say. It is the mother’s way of letting a female know that she is ready to welcome a child.” She released a sigh and shook her head. “I am surprised that it took nearly twenty-six years for her to experience this, but perhaps she’d been without her Grace for too long. Or because of the near-constant glamour she wore in Yaar. Peculiar, but not unlikely. I have heard that other fae women, ones who have mixed bloodlines and cannot enter this stage naturally, take tinctures to mimic it.”
Aziel merely blinked back at her, worry shadowing his impassivity. “What do we do?”
Dieve glanced back at the bed, watching as Nymiria released a near-growl, her legs rubbing together. Aziel’s whole bodyreacted on impulse, seemingly urging him closer, a wave of arousal nearly bringing him to his knees.“I can have Phyona make her a tonic for relief, but it will take a while. A day, at most. Until then, well… that is between the two of you. But as mates, it’s only natural for you to bring her relief.”
“Relief?” He frowned.
The witch nodded. “Intercourse, Aziel. Or a form of it. She is extremely fertile at the moment, so if you do not wish to bring a child—”
“I’m infertile.” There was no emotion in his voice, but the urgency still lingered.
Brows rising into her greying and wild hairline, Dieve pursed her lips. “She is the Goddess of Life. She has the ability to bestow fertility unto anything that is barren. Have the two of you had relations with one another before?” At the slight bristling movement from the god before her, the discomfort visible in his rigidness, Dieve let out a soft chuckle. “No need to be bashful, we’re all adults here.” She shook her head and limped towards her medical bag. “But I will warn you, since the two of you have been intimate with one another, there is a likelihood that the infertile is not so infertile any longer.”
If she’d told him this at nineteen, Aziel would not have believed her. But since the time that he accepted his godhood and now, he’d come to learn that the possibilities as a result of their powers were nearly endless. And the mere thought of him fathering a child, especially at a time like this…
His jaw clenched, heart thundering when Nymiria breathed another moan from their bed. “You should make the tonic. And, perhaps, something to prevent…”
“Pregnancy?”
He nodded, choosing to ignore the humorous twinkle in the crone’s eyes. Nonetheless, Dieve nodded, taking up her bag before she waddled off into the other room and out of the door.Aziel watched her feeble steps and when the door finally closed behind her, he released a deep breath and placed a hand over his own rapidly beating heart. Nymiria was still a mess, her fingers curling around the silken sheets, her body arching upwards, breasts pressing into the flimsy silk gown that was damp with sweat. He swallowed down his own desires, using every bit of self discipline in his body to approach her.
Natural, he reminded himself.All of this is natural.
It did not seem natural. Even with the primitive side of him reacting so instinctually, Aziel couldn’t help but feel a slight panic when he placed his hand on her, trying to funnel the ability to soothe her through touch, but his powers were nothing against this.
“Nymiria,” he said, his placating tone doing nothing to help her at all. Nymiria’s eyes snapped in his direction, a certain hopelessness in her gaze that made his stomach clench. “Dieve says that you are inCaddat. Do you know what that means?”
There looked to be hardly a single thought behind those gorgeous, glossy blue eyes, but she nodded. “My m-mother… she had one every year.”
Good,he sighed.At least it’s not fucking made up.
The knock on the door drew his attention, a flood of anger pulsing through his veins at the scent that spilled in through the other side. There was no way to explain the rage that flared through him, but the moment that door opened, Aziel was all taut muscle and gritted teeth, his feet carrying him across the room.
Even when Trio’s face filled the gap in the door, that rage still pulsed. He stilled, balling up his fists and doing his best not to act on the urges he felt in that moment. “What the fuck is that smell?” Trio asked, face contorted with distaste. “Is everything alright? I saw Dieve leave and—”
“You picked theworstpossible time to be fucking concerned aboutanything.” Those words felt like they hadn’t even come from him, but Trio was not bothered in the slightest.
