Touched by the Flame || Azriel Shadowsinger

Chapter 10

Soraya nearly jumped out of her skin when two knocks banged abruptly on the door. Two knocks typically meant Azriel, but he was never so loud. So forcefully insistent. Her pulse skipped and she instinctively backed a single step away from the door. Perhaps Rhysand had decided to break his own bargain and had come to slit her throat.

She really did jump when the door swung open and Azriel paraded through. Eyes hard and brow set, he was almost unrecognizable. The shadows clung closer to him than normal, making Soraya feel more uneasy. Something was wrong.

He stormed straight past her, stopping only to point in her direction and then to the dining table. She froze. Fear trickled like ice through her veins.

"Sit down, Raya," he demanded. 

The world tipped on its axis, nearly sweeping her legs out from under her. It wasn't the cold way he spoke, so different from his usual softness, that had her shaken. It was that name. Nobody had addressed her by that name in what felt like well beyond a lifetime. She was so stunned that for a moment, she forgot she had ever told him about it.

Soraya couldn't even find it in herself to argue. She simply did as she was told and plopped herself into a wooden chair at the table, absolutely baffled with what was happening. 

Azriel stormed into the kitchen and yanked open a cupboard, fishing out a labeled can. Soraya watched wordlessly as he emptied the can into a pot and set it over a switched-on burner. He had been kind to her, she realized upon seeing him now. Because Azriel, this cold, hard Azriel made of unyielding stone was terrifying. He didn't say a word, stirring the contents of the pot occasionally. She wondered if he was capable of speaking with how tight his jaw was clenched.

A part of her wanted to laugh while she sat gripped in silence. It was almost comical, the sight of a massive, winged, spymaster, warrior standing over the stove and brooding.

When a few minutes passed and he was apparently satisfied, Azriel turned off the burner and emptied the pot into a bowl he pulled from another cabinet. He clinked a metal spoon into the bowl and turned to leave the kitchen. Soraya jolted upright in her seat, cautiously watching his every move.

Azriel shoved aside the plated sandwich that sat uneaten before her and plunked the bowl in front of Soraya. A few red-orange droplets spilled over the side but he didn't appear to care if he noticed at all. She blinked in confusion and opened her mouth to question him, only to be cut off.

"Eat." Azriel sat in the chair across the table and leveled her with a glare that could sear flesh from bone. A chill snaked over her skeleton.

"What is it?" She asked slowly.

"Tomato soup," was his simple answer. "From a can. You watched me make it. There's nothing wrong with it. If you don't eat it yourself, I will shove it down your throat."

Soraya's eyes flicked between he and the steaming bowl. An aching hunger gnawed at her stomach and muddled her common sense, but still she was reluctant. Azriel folded both arms over his chest and rose a challenging brow. Something told her there was no way he would let her out of this.

Dragging one hand through her hair to push it back from her face, Soraya reached for the spoon. She wrinkled her nose and stirred the soup a little before ladling some into her spoon and lifting it to her lips. She blew on it a few times and let out a deep breath before pushing it into her mouth and swallowing it.

Warm soup. Something so simple and so deeply missed. Soraya didn't dare look up at Azriel as she gathered another spoonful. It warmed her to the very core, all the way from her stomach to her toes.

"You called me Raya," she said quietly after a few more spoons of soup.

"I shouldn't have," Azriel returned, the coldness gone from his voice.