36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

I t'd been a while since Azriel had had sleep terrors of past deeds. When he bonded with Ariadne over a year ago, those that haunted him included her screams—that he caused her screams. He had, of course, and for that, he'd never forgive himself. They crept in during his time in Algorath, but the memory loss had kept them from tormenting him during his waking hours.

The terrors returned in full force their first day together, however, despite her presence sating the bond. As though Melia continued to torture him from beyond her fiery grave. Whether she made it to Empyrean or was bound to the Underworld, she likely enjoyed watching him squirm.

This is what you deserve .

While most memories had been restored upon reuniting with Ariadne, several gaping holes remained in what he endured in Algorath. Namely, the nights of Melia's parties. The drugs she'd given him had effectively wiped his mind clean for hours at a time. It wasn't until the morning following each soiree that he could refocus.

Those gaps distressed him the most. Though most days he'd awoken alone in his cell, the morning following Ada burned into his mind. And it was in his weakest moments, such as when he was sleeping, that his mind became his enemy. It filled in those gaps with images and words and sounds that hurt him more than any blade could—no matter how fictional they were.

Azriel woke with a start from one such terror in the hut, Ariadne still curled up beside him. She slept soundly, one arm under her head and a hand on his chest. He shifted out from under her touch, heart pounding, and swung his legs over the edge of the small bed to ground himself by planting his bare feet on the cold floor.

Burying his face in his hands, he sucked in a long deep breath at the same moment he felt the familiar curl of Razer's consciousness in his mind. He had half a mind to shut the dragon out. Such things had never helped him in the past, though, so he eased down his mental walls without a word.

" She doesn't blame you ," Razer said, his voice soft. " These things were out of your control ."

He shook his head, knowing full well the dragon couldn't see him—but he felt it. " I blame myself ."

It all went back to the beginning. If he hadn't been so careless…if only he'd had the guts to kill Loren in the duel for Ariadne's hand. If, if, if. None of the ifs would help him now. It was done, and he'd paid the price. His wife had paid the price of his mistakes.

" You carry heavy burdens ," Razer continued unperturbed. " You need to share them with her and stop pretending you're alone . You cannot lead if you're still afraid of the past ."

" I don't want to lead ." Azriel scrubbed his face with his hands. " Just like he didn't want to ."

Razer chuffed, and Azriel felt him shift his body into a more comfortable position. " As if you have a choice , dhomin."

" And we're done now ."

A deep, hearty chuckle was the last thing he heard before severing the connection. While most referred to him as dhomin out of spite, it'd never been that way with Razer. The dragon had called him Little Prince for as long as he could remember—all because he was, quite literally, small in comparison.

It didn't mean Azriel had to like it.

Soft fingers trailed down his spine. He stiffened at first, then exhaled long and slow as he recognized the touch. Recognized her .

"Are you alright?" Her sleepy voice was soft, and when he turned to look at her, she watched him through her lashes.

No. He laid back down beside her. "Never better, my love."

She hummed, a line forming between her brows as though she didn't quite believe him. Nonetheless, she moved closer, draping a leg over his body and tucked in under his arm, head on his shoulder. "Were you talking with Razer?"

He grunted.

"Did he have any words of wisdom?"

Oh, the great brute would get a kick out of that later when he picked through Azriel's mind. Fantastic. "The dhemons considered my father a king of sorts."

Ariadne snuggled even closer like she tried to climb into his soul. "Kall calls me ydhom . He is insufferable about it, really."

A small smile curled his lips despite himself, and he closed his eyes. "It suits you, ydhomja ."

"What does that mean?"

" My princess." Azriel pressed a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling her natural scent like his own personal drug—one he'd gladly overdose on any night, no trickery needed. "But I'm not certain I want to be their dhom ."

She hummed again, this time in thought. "Why not?"

"Have you seen me?" He shook his head, horns brushing over her hair. "I'm not exactly royalty material. The Crowe's title was more of an earned rank than an inherited position."

A contemplative hum accompanied a long yawn. "Did you earn your title, too?"

Azriel sighed. "I don't know."

"What about with the other prisoners?"

"I'm certainly not their prince." His stomach knotted. He'd had them complete the blood oath when he believed he had nothing left to live for aside from his vengeance. He'd bound them to him to not only kill Melia but to hunt down every single person who'd ever wronged her.

Ehrun.

Loren.

Markus.

Nikolai.

Every fucking dhemon who touched her.

The list extended through members of the Society, old and young, men and women and anyone in between. He'd fantasized about what he'd do to each one for letting her down and how he'd use his small band of murderous prisoners to ensure each of them suffered.

Now, lying there with her curled in his arms, he couldn't imagine leaving her to do any of it. Even if he'd happily make each of them pay for their mistreatment of her, it'd have to wait. Anything could wait so long as she was with him. So long as her presence kept that damned bond intact.

Azriel closed his eyes, shutting out all thoughts of revenge in favor of soaking up every breath with her . He couldn't return to Valenul, so he'd build her a life elsewhere. Perhaps she'd enjoy the Leus Plains. Or they could visit the Vol Isles.

He'd just begun to drift back to sleep when Razer dug in his mental talons, jolting him wide awake again. The dragon slammed image after image into Azriel's mind, along with a flood of words and memories that, to anyone unfamiliar with a vinculum, would find overwhelming. He let them sweep through him as though they were his own and sorted each into their appropriate categories.

" What the fuck do you mean Valenul has fallen ?" He fought the urge to get up, dress, and find his brother. The memories were clear. The message was one he couldn't comprehend.

" Are you thick ?" Madan's voice sounded far away. " Loren murdered Markus, dissolved the Council, and put a crown on his own fucking head ."

He likely remained somewhere in the Keonis Mountains, safe from the sun while Brutis flew closer to transmit the message. With the dragons linked through their natural telepathy, it made communicating over long distances much easier. Unless, of course, they were just too far away from one another, like Azriel and Madan had been from Razer and Brutis during their time in Laeton.

Azriel didn't need to ask how Madan had gotten away. The battles at the different estates were simple enough to understand. He hadn't explained everything, however.

" Where are you ?" Azriel steadied his breathing, doing his best to match Ariadne's soft breath as she returned to sleep.

An image was the only reply. Azriel cursed to himself. How the fuck was he going to tell her ?

Ariadne stood beside Razer, one hand on his blue-black scales, wishing she could hear the dragon's thoughts. She shook, unable to control the violent shudders, her heart pounding and stomach clenching. It had taken a long time for Azriel to convince her to come.

"It is the safest place for us right now," he had said, kneeling before her when she sat on the bed in the hut. He had held her there for a long time after telling her of her father's passing. His murder by Loren's hands. It did not soften the blow of where they needed to go next. "He abandoned it months ago. Its defenses are strong, and we need a home."

All thoughts left her. She knew nothing but the blind terror and depthless sorrow enveloping her soul. The promise she had made to herself a long time ago firmly stated she would never return to those mountains. Never let those walls lock her within them again. Never so much as look upon the stones painted by her blood and that of Darien.

After learning of her father's death, Ariadne knew she could not return to Valenul safely. Loren had stripped away every facet of home that once resided in Laeton. Only the fear of what lay ahead of her kept the heartbreak from creeping in.

Yet still, she faced the dhemon keep, bracing herself on Razer as though the dragon could provide some semblance of support just by existing by her side. How strange that mere weeks ago, she had not even known of the creature's existence. Now, she depended on him. Now, she somehow believed he could keep her standing when all she desired was to crumble.

Upon their arrival, Azriel had slipped off Razer's back and helped Ariadne down. Then he disappeared into the keep with several other dhemons who had accompanied Madan to the location, bloodstained and ragged from fighting in Eastwood. They had agreed to search every floor, every room and closet, to ensure they were alone.

"I'm sorry," Madan said as he stepped up beside her. "I wouldn't have asked you to come here if I thought we had another choice."

Ariadne nodded, unable to speak through the tightness of her throat. Forcing the words around that knot would result in a breakdown that none of them had time for. She would wait until she was alone in one of the many rooms to let herself feel all she needed to. Fear. Misery. Loss. Anger.

"It's called Auhla ," Madan reminded her, wisely keeping his distance and her focus on the building before them. The sound of his voice—the smoother, low cadence of her guard and brother—eased a bit of tension from her body. It sounded like that of her father. Their father. "And it wasn't always so terrible."

Try as she might, she could not bring herself to believe his words. She knew what happened within those walls. Those memories, though subdued over time, never stopped haunting her. Even if most of the physical scars she had carried from them had been erased, there would be no removing those from her soul.

"I grew up here." Madan kept speaking, kept pulling her back from the brink of her own dark thoughts. "I don't even remember living in Monsumbra. This was always my home. My father—the Crowe—made it so when he took me in with Azriel."

Ariadne had never asked him what it had been like, growing up amongst the dhemons with the Crowe as his father-figure. Those were discussions for another night, when he was ready to divulge his life and she could tell him of their father. This one was reserved for building the courage to take that first step.

She wasn't certain she had it in her.

"I still believe," he continued, "that with time, this place could become a home again."

A home. She only saw a keep. A fortress. A prison. She saw the massive stones carved from the cliff around it and repositioned to create the fa?ade of a castle. Shuttered windows marked every one of the six floors, and a massive double door stood at its face, thrown open by the dhemons now stalking its halls. Above and around were alcoves and deep caves, likely used by the dragons, and despite the rolling green field around them, it felt cold.

Heartless.

Ariadne swallowed hard, her throat burning as she considered what it would feel like to walk through those doors again. Nothing Madan could say would make it any better. He had been imprisoned there, same as her. How he could look upon it and think of anything else, she did not know.

It was not until Azriel returned, his blue skin and horns gone, replaced by the tan complexion and those perfect peridot eyes, that Ariadne realized just how much she had worried about him going inside. He slowed to a halt before them, his body just as emaciated as he had been in his dhemon form. Moreso, perhaps. It took on an entirely new strangeness to see the clothes hang off him like too-large hand-me-downs.

Azriel shifted on his feet for a moment before saying, "It's all clear."

Glancing between them, Madan gave him a single nod, then started toward the keep. He did not move with urgency. Despite his words, she knew that he, too, hesitated to reenter. To see the same places he had experienced so much.

" Alhija …" Azriel held out a hand to her, eyes pleading. "Please trust me."

Trust. She had thrown that word in his face the night she left him—the night she discovered it had been he who dragged her through those very doors. She had not trusted him then, but he regained it time and again when he brought her back to life. When Ehrun had returned to take her a second time, it was Azriel who kept her from that fate.

"I've chosen a room for you with big windows overlooking the hills." He dropped his hand, but she caught it and interlaced their fingers. The sigh of relief was loud, his eyes closing as he took in her silent acceptance. "Thank you."

Ariadne stepped in close, folding herself against his chest so he could wrap his free arm around her. The pressure from the embrace eased the tension building in her chest. She nodded and whispered, "Let us go."

They took the first step toward the keep together, Razer at their heels. He held her hand firm as though afraid she might turn and run. In all honesty, it was a significant possibility. She was certain Razer would take her somewhere else if she asked. Maybe. Or maybe he would merely circle overhead and return her to the keep at sunrise, forcing her indoors.

As they closed in on the front doors, a silent scream picked up in Ariadne's mind. Each step became slow, forced, and jerky. A battle of wills. Her heart thundered in her ears, and if Azriel said anything, she did not hear it.

Ariadne stopped just short of the threshold. Heat pricked her eyes as she looked in at that horrible, familiar entry hall. She was reentering beside the same man who had delivered her there over a year ago.

So much had changed…yet the dread remained the same.

"I do not think I can do it," she rasped, stepping back again. "Please, Azriel…"

But he held firm. She saw in his eyes that he would not drag her in as he had done so long ago, but he also would not let her leave. Instead, he turned his back to the doorway and said, "I have seen you ride a dragon into battle and kill one of the most powerful mages I've ever met. You've stood up to your father, ran away from home, and befriended the monsters you once hated."

She had no words. What could she say to that? That she was lucky?

"You are the bravest woman I know," Azriel said and stepped closer, forcing her to tilt her chin back to look at his face. "Do not cower from your past. You are stronger than anything you have endured. Do not let him win."

He was right. By staying outside, Ehrun won. Bravery meant acknowledging the fear and doing it anyway. Bravery meant being more than the nightmares.

So, for the second time in her life, Ariadne entered the dhemon keep.