Decade | | Azriel

6

"Your client sent back the refund," the club's owner, a female named Quyn informed Kyla, setting the bag of gold coins down on her bed, "and he added a larger tip. There's a note attached to the bag."

Kyla sighed quietly, staring for a moment before she grabbed the note.

"I'm not taking the money," she said simply.

"I have a feeling that if you try to send it back to him, he'll only return it with an even larger tip," Quyn pointed out, watching Kyla's reaction closely. The female gave away nothing in her expression as she set the note on her bed.

"Then split the money between the others. I don't care. I don't want it," Kyla replied, her tone entirely even.

Quyn only stared at her for a moment before asking a question.

"Did he hurt you?" she asked, and that pulled Kyla out of whatever numbness she had fallen into.

"No," she assured her quickly, "nothing like that. Things just got too personal."

"You've been seeing him for longer than most of the other girls have even been working here. It's bound to have gotten personal somewhere along the line," Quyn reasoned, "the fact that you requested he be allowed to sleep here was the point I had assumed it got personal."

"It's not—he was just asking too many questions. He wanted to know things about me," she explained with a helpless shrug. Quyn gave a soft smile, something knowing lingering in her deep brown eyes.

"He has been seeing you for a decade," she reminded her, "it makes sense that he would want to know things about you. I'm sure he had told you plenty about himself. You don't owe him any answers, but don't be so shocked he had questions. I don't know him as well as you do, but he seems like a good male."

"He is good. He's...he's better than even he realizes but..." she trailed off, a frown etched onto her face.

"But you thought the same thing about Hal," Quyn filled in, soft and gentle and understanding. Kyla could only manage a nod in response to that.

Thoughts of her ex-fiancé always left a pit in her stomach. The marriage had been arranged. She was sent to his manor against her will and fought it at first. But he had managed to charm her, somehow. He had managed to make her love him, showing her kindness that she hadn't known in her lifetime. He had been gentle and loving and sweet enough that she forgot he was the same male who had paid her father for her hand in marriage. It wasn't until he gained her trust and held her heart in his hand that he reminded her of who and what he really was.

She had loved him more than she could say, and the world felt like it tilted beneath her when everything changed and he showed his true self. She was entirely certain that she would be dead if Rhysand hadn't shown up when he did.

If she let in Azriel the way she had let in Hal and he flipped like that too...well, she doubted the High Lord would save her again—not from his own brother. Rhysand would undoubtedly have Azriel's back, she was sure of it. There would be no escape for her if things went down that road again.

She could imagine it too easily—trapped in a house again, spending every night dreaming of escape. Except it was Azriel holding her prisoner in this image. And Rhysand was his brother. He probably wouldn't believe her even if she was covered head to toe in bruises—if he did believe her, he probably wouldn't care. Because Azriel was his brother and, compared to that, she was nothing. Rhysand would turn a blind eye to it, let Azriel do as he pleased. It scared her how easily she could picture it.

"Kyla," Quyn spoke softly, pulling her out of her thoughts, "if you think there's any reason to fear him, say the word and he's banned."

"No," Kyla said, more quickly than she meant to. As easy as it was to picture him turning on her, she couldn't turn forget those late nights in bed with him when she felt more at home than she had any other time in her life.