Olethros

forty six - freyja

"Where are you taking her?" Rhysand barked out, shooting up from his seat. Azriel's throat bobbed as his eyes fell to the males' hands on me. I watched a shadow curl against his lip, down his chin, across his throat.

"Freyja has her lessons with my mother, and she has her lessons with us. We teach her how to please a male, isn't that right?" Dafid's breath smelled of rye whiskey as it hit my cheek. I continued to stare at my love, at the promise of bloodshed in his eyes. A gasp tore from my throat when a hand fisted my hair, yanking my head back.

"He asked you a question, Freyja. What do good Ladies do when asked a question?" Emyr spat, lips against my ear. My eyes lifted to the ceiling, emotions clogging my throat.

"Yes, sir," I whispered. The two males chuckled, tugging me with them again. I heard shouting from behind us, but I couldn't understand the words over the throbbing in my ears. I'd seen him. I'd been so close to him, yet I could not reach for him.

I'd hardly noticed as I was shoved into Emyr's bedroom. I didn't know we'd gone up the stairs. Even as I was forced to my knees, the males standing beside each other as they tore their trousers down, Azriel was on my mind.

I thought of him as my mouth was full, the way he looked. He was utter devastating beauty. His looks were the kind that warned you away, made you fear what was beneath. All sharp edges. I yearned for him, I burned for him. With him so near, I couldn't fathom staying away.

When Emyr and Dafid were finished with their 'lesson', my drool and their mess on my chin, tears on my cheeks, I still thought of him. As they shoved me into the bathing chamber and told me to clean myself up, a shame like I'd never felt hit me.

I stared at myself in the mirror, pink cheeks and dried come on my lips. I felt shame because I thought of when it had been Azriel on my tongue. I let tears fall because I felt my need for him moments after those males had violated me. I moved to the basin, scrubbing my face until it ached. Water dripping from me, I turned and leaned against the vanity.

Azriel, Azriel, Azriel. His name suffocated me. My head tipped back as I remembered how he'd felt. What was wrong with me? Thinking of pleasure after having my body used by males? It was so wrong, shameful, dirty. I let my head tip back forward, lips parting in a shallow breath. I didn't think I'd survive the night.

The dress against my skin felt like the roughest of fabric as I pushed off from the vanity and wiped the water from my face. I needed to return to the main floor for supper, otherwise I'd be in far too much trouble. I smoothed my gown and let out a sigh, reaching for the door handle. As I pulled it open, a figure blocked the corridor. I gasped, stumbling back.

Azriel. Oh my Gods, I nearly leapt for him. He beat me to it, stepping into the bathing chamber and shutting the door. He locked it and turned to me, shadows tearing across his skin fiercely. My bottom lip trembled as I tried to think of what to say to him. Do I say hello? Do I tell him how absolutely miserable I was without him? Did I tell him I loved him?

I didn't have time to say anything. Azriel darted forward, wrapping his arms around me. I whimpered, clutching his jacket. His body against mine, his heartbeat at my ear. He was real. He was real and he was here. I didn't realize I was crying until I tasted my tears. I shook as I clutched his jacket, pulling him as close as I could.

"Freyja," Azriel murmured. His hand smoothed my hair, the other holding my body to his. I cried into his chest. I couldn't believe he was here.

"I'm sorry," I croaked, unsure why it was the first thing I said. Azriel dropped then. Both of us hit our knees, clutching each other like it was the final time.

"Do not apologize to me," he bit out, using my hair to gently pull me from his chest. Azriel's gloved hands moved to my cheeks, holding my face as he looked me over. I was surely a sputtering mess, tears and drool as I tried to rein myself in. I reached up, taking his hands down and tugging the fingers of his gloves.

"I love you," I forced out, unsure if he heard my words through my cries. The moment his beautiful scarred hands were free, I kissed them again and again, nestling my face against them like a touch-starved kitten. I could never have enough.

"I love you. Fuck, Freyja, I love you," he murmured, moving his hand from mine and cupping my jaw. I tried to smile, looking between his eyes through my tears. I couldn't handle it anymore. I launched myself up, capturing his mouth with mine. It was a messy kiss, full of desperation and sorrow. I clutched his one hand with my own, tasting those words on his tongue.

Remembering where my tongue had been not long before, I pulled back, dropping my head to his chest. Azriel held me, his lips repeatedly pressing to the top of my head.

"What have they done to you? Freyja, what have they done?" He whispered, the pain evident in his tone. I shook my head, pulling his knuckles to my lips because I could not bear to lose that connection.

"It doesn't matter, you're here now," I whispered. Azriel used the knuckles on my lips to push my head up. I met his gaze, another spluttering cry leaving me. He smoothed my hair as he glanced between my eyes. I saw them, then. The tears.

"It matters to me, Freyja. When you left that room, what did they do?"

Disgust churned in my belly as I shook my head. I didn't want him to know I'd been used. The body he claimed as his was a toy for another.

"Did they touch you?" He whispered. I nodded, unable to speak it. My eyes squeezed shut. Azriel pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose. "Did they hurt you?"

I nodded again. I didn't want to discuss the circumstances within this manor. I wanted his skin on mine. I needed the memory of him to be freshly carved to my skin. The shame in that burned through me.

"Please," I whispered, turning my head to kiss his wrist. A tear slipped traced the side of his nose. Gods, I was desperate for his touch to replace theirs. The desperation fed into me, forcing my hands to move from his and drop to his trousers. Azriel sucked in a breath as I tore at the belt at his waist, shaking hands fumbling.

"Freyja," he croaked. I shook my head, another sob shaking me as I tore the belt open. I needed his touch- I needed his pain.

"Hurt me. Please, Azriel, please," I sobbed, shaking my head harder when his hands closed around my wrists. I was crying to hard to even see where my hands had been working. Azriel dropped my wrists and took my face into his large hands, bringing his mouth to mine.