Azhrael takes a step closer to the barrier, then another, his movements slow and deliberate now. The agitation drains from his posture, replaced by something gentler. Watchful.
He stops just short of the containment field, close enough that I can see the faint glow beneath his plated exterior, the way his form seems to breathe with contained heat.
I exhale slowly, and the tension in my shoulders eases.
"There," I murmur. I'm tempted to touch the barrier, to reach for him. It feels almost like second nature to, but I resist. "That's better."
He tilts his head slightly, and I swear he understands.
"What thefuckdo you think you're doing?"
Malrec's voice cracks through the moment like a lash, and I spin around to find him striding toward me, his expression thunderous.
"I—"
"Step away from that enclosure. Now."
My jaw tightens. "He's calm."
"I don't care." He closes the distance between us in three long strides, crowding into my space the same way he did last time. "You were given explicit instructions not to interact with the beasts."
"I didn't cross into his enclosure. I didn't hurt him." I gesture toward Azhrael, who's still standing close to the barrier, watching us both with eerie stillness. "I just stood here. And he calmed down."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" The words come out sharper than I intend, but I'm done biting my tongue. This demon is rude and harsh, and normally, I can take that. For some reason, though, I can't seem to when it comes to him. "Icalmed your beast. You couldn't. A thank you would be appreciated."
His eyes narrow dangerously, and his voice drops to something low and cutting. "You arenotto talk to me like that. You're a laborer. You follow orders. My orders. Do you understand?"
The heat in my chest flares into something hotter. "Perfectly."
"Good." He steps back, putting space between us, but his gaze doesn't soften. "Now get back to work. Clean the empty stalls. And stay away from the enclosures."
I hold his stare for one more heartbeat, letting him see exactly how much I hate him in this moment, then turn on my heel and stalk toward the supply station.
Behind me, I hear Azhrael make that low, mournful sound again.
I don't look back.
4
MALREC
The afternoon sun—if you can call the perpetual crimson haze above Ikoth sunlight—casts long shadows across the pasture. I stand with my arms crossed, watching Vexris and Khorvas circle each other in the far corner of the enclosure. They're testing boundaries, as they always do when released together. Vexris snaps at Khorvas's flank, and he wheels away with a huff of sulfurous breath that momentarily obscures them both.
The containment wards hum at a frequency I can feel in my teeth. Good. They're holding steady.
I should be focused on this. On monitoring their behavior, on ensuring the magical fencing doesn't fluctuate when Vexris decides to test it by ramming her shoulder against the barrier. Again. This is what I'm good at—structure, observation, control.
Instead, my mind keeps circling back toher.
Lenna.
I finally learned the human's name three days ago, and not from her. Varek mentioned it in passing while discussing supply inventories, and I found myself cataloging the information with more attention than it deserved. Two syllables. Short. Direct. Itfits the way she moves through the stables—efficient, deliberate, refusing to waste motion.
It also fits the way she glares at me like she's mentally cataloging every way she could dismantle me if given the opportunity.
I shift my weight, jaw tight. This is ridiculous. She's a laborer. One human among dozens in the estate's employ. There's no reason her presence should register beyond basic operational awareness, and yet I can feel the weight of her hatred like something physical. It clings to the air between us whenever we're in the same space, sharp and distinct, and instead of dismissing it the way I should, I find myself reacting to it.
