afflicted

15

a/n: since these chapters are short and i've made you wait so long, you get a double update ;) can't wait to see what y'all think of this one hehehehe

Azriel stopped walking suddenly, causing Callie to bump into him from behind. She stumbled over both of their feet, yanking down the edge of her shirt and turning to look at him with flushed cheeks. He looked gaunt, tired. The sadness that seeped into his hazel irises stabbed a new dagger through her heart. She followed his eye line and saw a small cabin looming in the distance, the windows dark and empty.

"Az?" She asked, the inner corners of her eyebrows turning up in concern. She could see the billows of white vapor that billowed with every frosted breath she pushed from her lungs. They were somewhere in the Illyrian mountains, having flown all day northward.

"I just- Give me a minute, Callie. I just- I need a minute," he stuttered, clearing his throat. Looking no less concerned, she gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded, casting her glance to the snow-covered ground under her boots.

He stared straight ahead at the cabin as though he were walking into his own death. She didn't know what the cabin might mean for him, but she did know he grew up somewhere within these unforgiving shards of mountainous peaks that were the Illyrian steppes.

He squeezed his eyes shut; fists clenched so tightly there was no blood in his knuckles. Without allowing herself time to think, Callie wrapped her arms around his middle and held her body against his. He stiffened, not knowing what to do. After a few seconds, though, he softened into her touch.

He wrapped his large arms around her small frame, squeezing tight enough to let her know he'd needed it. He buried his face in her neck, taking a few slow deep breaths before pulling back to look at her. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with a sad smile. His broad hands found either side of her face, and he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before releasing her.

The act settled somewhere deep in her heart. She yearned for him, heart aching to get him near again the second he ever moved away. She knew it was unfair. She knew better than to expect anything from him, but she couldn't help but to savor every single moment of him he'd gift her with. She knew it wouldn't last long, but she vowed to treasure it while it did.

So, with that making her brave, she reached for his hand and threaded her fingers through his. To her surprise he didn't pull away. He didn't look at her either, though. He took slow steps closer to the cabin, it looming larger with every second passing. Not to say that the cabin was large. Rather, it seemed only fit for a very small family. The cabin itself had seen better days. Due to lack of resources and upkeep, the windows were dusty and dark, the porch littered with snow and small twigs tossed about in storms.

When they got to the doorway, Azriel stopped again. Callie turned to him, content to allow him all the time he needed. He cleared his throat, roughly rubbing the back of his neck. He looked so tired and hollow.

"You can head on in, I'm going to check the perimeter and surrounding areas," he said, not quite looking at her. She bit her lip hesitantly.

"Do you want me to come with you?" She asked, voice small.

He shook his head. "It'll be easier for me if I don't have to carry you as I fly," he said quietly. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind that he'd had so much added weight every time they'd traveled. She felt the redness tint her cheeks, the heat of embarrassment burning her whole body. No wonder he looked so tired. He must have noticed, because he spoke again. "Just quicker, Callie. I don't mind carrying you. It's nice to have you so close sometimes."

Callie looked up at him, begging internally for him to look back at her, but he still wouldn't. It seemed that all of this at once was overwhelming. He was far, far away from where they stood. No, he was somewhere long ago with demons that he'd fought so hard to bury. She told herself it was best to give him space.

He nodded to himself, turning to walk away from her. He flared those giant claw-tipped demon's wings from his back but turned to look at her once more before he launched into the sky. "Callie... thank you." Then he was gone, and her mouth was drier than it'd ever been.

Deciding to do her best to be helpful, Callie creaked open the door of the small wooden cabin and inhaled the scent of pine and ash, remnants of a life that would never exist again. There was a rumpled blanket on an old couch, threads of the fabric loosening with age. There wasn't much to see inside, just a few bits of abandoned furniture.

Stepping closer to the couch, Callie noticed a wide dark spot in the fabric, coagulated and stained. But it didn't look old. Furrowing her brow, she bent to look more closely. Her heart leapt into her throat and panic became a rope wrapped around her throat. It was blood. And not old blood. Whoever had been there had been bleeding pretty badly. And not that long ago.

Callie squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to still her breathing, consoling herself with the fact that Azriel would be back soon. She stood back up, dusting her palms together and turning to further explore. When she opened the door to the only bedroom, she saw a small bag wadded up on the sheetless mattress.

She chewed the insides of her cheeks, leaning over to look at the bag's contents, making note of the way the floor creaked when certain boards were stepped on. They'd need to memorize that, just in case. She supposed it was likely... no, nearly definite, that Azriel already had. He was eerily good at going unheard.

The bag had several wadded-up bandage wraps, dappled with small blood spots, like the owner had been messily patching a wound when tossing them back into the sack. A bottle of alcohol and a nearly empty glass jar of a pain relief tincture clanked at the bottom of the bag. Someone had been here and had sustained a pretty bad wound.

Turning and leaving the room, Callie stooped in front of the small fireplace. Her fingers patted lightly at the bottom, attempting to decipher how long it had been since it had been used. The ash-covered wood left half-burnt looked relatively new, and at the very bottom still held the smallest traces of warmth.

She swallowed, thinking. She wondered what Azriel would make of it.

Her thoughts were interrupted when her head snapped backwards so roughly that she made a gagging sound, certain her head had just been ripped from her shoulders. Her hands flew to the back of her head, feeling a thick hand weaved through her hair, pulling at the roots so hard that her scalp stung. Fuck.

At this angle, she couldn't scream, could barely get in air. She clawed desperately at the hand, digging into their flesh ruthlessly, as she choked a panicked sob in her stretched diaphragm.

She felt warm breath caress the shell of her ear.

"What a pretty little gift I've been delivered," the voice growled lowly, the voice deep and rumbling. "I've looked all over for you."

"Pl-please," she gagged.

"God, this is going to be so fucking fun," the voice chimed with a sadistic laugh. "I wonder what I should do first? Maybe I'll show you all the ways they humiliated Morrigan before she died. Or maybe I'll just slit your throat and be done with it. Take a play from your book just for you."

Her mind wasn't working. She couldn't think of anything but the unnatural stretch of her neck as he threatened to rip every strand of hair from her head. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she begged down the bond, desperate for Azriel to hear her. He'd handle whoever had her on her knees. With ease.

She held on to that idea with an iron grip.

"He'll kill you," she managed to get out, voice strained.

A deep, melodic laugh vibrated in the man's chest.

"Not before I kill you," he said. Fear was a cancer devouring her heart.

The door busted open so hard it nearly fell off the hinges. Azriel was a blur, lunging at the figure at her back without a thought. The hand yanked once more before releasing, and she rubbed her neck, gasping in a huge lungful of air.

When Callie turned around, her eyes nearly toppled out of her skull.

Azriel knelt over the man with shoulder length brown hair, pressing the tip of truth-teller to his sternum. But it was his face that stopped Callie in her tracks, knocking the wind out of her with a devastating blow.

Cassian.