Olethros

thirty one - azriel

"You don't look it. Is there anything I can do? You can talk to me, you know that."

I didn't. Mor had spoken to me more in the last few days than in the past few years. Our argument had been the first conversation alone with her since before the war. I didn't think I was welcome to speak my mind.

"I wasn't aware," I snapped. Her lashes fell, plump lip finding its way between perfect teeth. Outwardly, Mor had always been my idea of perfection. She was always so bright, even on her worst days. Inwardly, I couldn't stand the thought of the deeply nestled desire for her. It'd found its way beneath all of my other wild emotions, but it was still there.

"I don't know what has been going on with you, but I don't appreciate your attitude with me, Azriel. I have done my best to speak with you and clear this tension, but you have fought me the entire way," she spat, pretty eyes glaring at me.

I scoffed, running my gloved hand through my hair as I rolled my eyes. "You have done your best? I wasn't aware your best attempt was completely ignoring my presence. I know I am a Shadowsinger, but I am not a fucking shadow, Morrigan," I seethed.

It was out of character, I knew that. My anger towards her was rooted so deeply, though, I wasn't sure I could hold back. I'd looked to her for comfort for too long, and now she offered it when I found the most magnificent peace. Mor's eye twitched, her teeth grinding.

"Rhysand and Cassian may have been drunk enough to not notice your absence late in the night, but I did. I know you left Velaris, Az. Where did you go?"

"What does it matter? You haven't cared about my whereabouts for long enough, why now?" I was pissed. I knew those whirling emotions had spun around on her now, but, fuck, if she didn't deserve it.

"I have cared, Azriel! I do care! I care enough to know that if you've gone to that damned village again, Alcaeus will find out. He has spies waiting for the next attack. If he knows it is you, you will be killed. You're presenting too much of a danger to our army's numbers," Mor scolded, keeping her voice low enough that it may not wake my brothers far down the hall.

"Are you a general? Do you determine what is fit for our court? No, Mor. You are a relative to the High family. You have no more power than I do. You may have fought alongside us but you do not dictate what I choose to do."

Mor rolled her eyes as she shoved off of the doorframe. Her lips pressed into a tight line before she let out a heavy sigh. "I have been there nearly your entire life, so I know when you're not in your right mind. Why are you taking this out on me? I may be speaking harshly, but you're being fucking foolish, Az! Entirely idiotic! You are risking your life to- what?- take your anger out?"

"Get out, Morrigan. If I wanted to speak with you, I would have invited you in here," I ground out, turning my eyes away. I was not risking my life to take my anger out. My life was not a risk, but those females were. I was helping, in some cruel and unusual way, I was bettering at least one of those horrid camps.

"I'm sorry for whatever you feel I have done to deserve your anger, but I am not your enemy, Azriel. I am your friend. As your friend, I am asking that you sort out your emotions and stop putting yourself and the court at risk."

I didn't watch her leave. I sent a shadow to follow her back into the bedroom she claimed until her door was shut, too, and then I spiraled. I didn't cry- though I wish I did- but instead I bit down on my tongue until a sweet metallic taste flooded it. I squeezed my eyes shut, the chanting of horrid thoughts rising in volume.

Monster.
Greedy bastard.
Freyja.
Take what you do not deserve, leave nothing less than terror.
You will ruin her.
Greedy bastard.
Freyja.
You never deserved her.
They pity you.
Monster.
Violent creation creates violence.
She cannot save you.
You cannot save her.
Freyja.
Take what you do not deserve, leave nothing less than terror.
Monster.
They pity you.
Freyja.
She cannot save you.
You cannot save her.
Monster.

I couldn't breathe. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it did not block the sounds nor the visions. Blood splatter, entrails, the screams of my fellow warriors as they were cut down. I remembered hearing Rhysand's screams when he believed Cassian had been killed. I remember Mor sobbing as her ankles were cut by a mortal.

I tugged at my hair until my scalp burned, my eyes squeezed shut and teeth clamped hard enough that a ringing sound joined the screams. Was this my punishment for indulging in the forbidden female? Was the Mother claiming my sins and showering them upon me?

There was a moment, as I sat there in a shaking spiral, that I should go down to the temple and beg the Priestesses to cleanse me. Tear the monster from my veins and replace me with the light they all held. I deserved nothing, though. I deserved no peace, I deserved no care. I'd stolen, I'd cheated, I'd lied, and I'd murdered. And I enjoyed every moment of it. I wanted more.

All I needed was a strong whiskey or a tart ale. I needed to scrub my skin until the memories faded. I just needed to fucking breathe. I couldn't hold back my gasp as I whipped my head back, as if it would fight away the shadows that now seemed to claw at me. I wished they had something better to do than feed off of my mind. They were bored, so they did what I knew best. They tortured and killed.

I shoved off from the bed, hardly noticing the way it cracked the sanded wooden walls. I paced, trying to remember what it had been like just hours before. I had felt calm, safe, comfortable. I had Freyja in my arms, her jasmine scent calming each nerve. It felt like centuries ago, now.

I needed to stay away from her, but now that I'd had a taste, I knew I couldn't. I would be back there now if the sun hadn't begun to crest over the mountains. Rhys and Cass would be awake soon. I'd have to lay my mask back down and pretend to search for Freyja.

I marched into the adjoined bathing chamber, tearing my clothes off so fast, I wouldn't be surprised if I found them unsalvageable later. I tore my gloves off, dropping into the tub. The House seemed to wish to comfort me, steaming water filling the basin. It didn't work, even when my skin burned from the cloth I scrubbed it with.

My eyes fell to the clothing beside the basin- to the blade still sheathed. There was no hesitation. I knew what I deserved. I lunged for it, the porcelain digging into my ribs. The hilt in my shaking hand, I brought the shining steel to my skin beneath the foggy, sudsy water. The chanting seemed to clear as crimson flooded the surface of the water, though I wasn't sure my old habits would ever bring the peace that the hidden female did.