A/N: This chapter is very dark. It has mentions of sexual assault, heavy violence, and torture. Don't read if those are things that may trigger you.
Void black eyes stared back at her. The man was a sickly pale color, a stench roiling off of him. He smelled as though he were rotting from the inside. Despite his pallor, he was dressed in pressed, fine clothes. His blonde hair was neatly combed and gelled.
His worm-like lips curled into a taunting flash of teeth. She couldn't even refer to it as a smile. He held such a hollow blackness. Something about him felt so off, so wrong, so unnatural.
His throat was adorned with a thick black collar.
She dove across the floor, wrapping her hand around the hilt of the ruby dagger she had found hidden in the couch. The man crossed the threshold, his movements slow and unrushed. How had he found them? Who was he? What was he?
"What a wonderful little surprise that prying bastard left for me to find," he cooed, his voice melodic and unsettling. He watched as she scrambled to her feet and held out the dagger in an attempt to keep him at a distance. He didn't seem concerned about her possession of a weapon in the slightest.
"What's your name, pet? What does he call you when he whistles for you like a bitch dog? I can't imagine the fucker having any empathy, which ironically is the only thing I appreciate about him." She assumed he meant Azriel. Perhaps he hadn't been entirely honest about his daily missions. How did this man know him or where to find him?
Her eyes kept flicking to the door, as if any moment he'd walk in and save her. Taking note of her hope, the stranger's smile grew. His eyes were glittering black like a shark. No part of him seemed human.
Her heart was hammering in her chest, palms sweaty as she white-knuckled the ornate blade. Azriel would come back. She could trust Azriel. She just needed to bide her time, keep him talking. Ego had been the fall of greater men.
"He's not coming to save you, darling," he purred at her, taking two steps closer. She swallowed, trying to think of a plan. If she kept letting him gain ground on her, he'd push her into the corner and she'd be fucked.
She tried to hear Azriel's voice in her head, telling her what to do. She couldn't physically overpower the man. The only advantage she had was speed and size. If she could get past him and out the door, she would have more escape options than she had now.
"In fact," the male continued, "I'll bet my friends have already wrangled him and taken him back to Maeve. It's a shame he can't be here to see what I'm going to do to you. She's got big plans for him, you know. She loves a handsome plaything, especially one with his talents." He took another step forward. She didn't budge.
"She makes a hobby of collecting beautiful warriors and bending them to her will. Servicing her as she desires and doing her dirty work. And, yes, darling, I do mean servicing in exactly the way you imagine. It's brilliant truthfully. Or perhaps she'll implant one of us inside of his body. Oh, the ways we'd use his powers would make you tremble, darling. He has only scratched the surface of his darkness. A beast lurks beneath that pretty skin."
Calina lunged, attempting to get past him and out the door, but he was impossibly fast. She hadn't anticipated that. He gripped her forearms roughly, shoving her back against the wall. She writhed in his iron grip, but it was useless. He was supernaturally strong. She was doomed unless she wanted to try and heal him to death. She didn't even summon her powers, knowing it was silly to even try. She'd probably end up making him stronger somehow.
His breath was coppery and foul. He pressed his body against hers, pinning her in place. His leg parted hers, pushing his thigh against her core. She whimpered, closing her eyes and begging Azriel to come back and help her. Her stomach was churning, and an incurable terror was slithering up her spine. She felt helpless, terrified, and trapped.
He leaned forward, using his tongue to lick a stripe across her cheek. She screeched, trying to headbutt him, but he was too quick and anticipated her move. He grinned. His eyes were lifeless. He was like a reanimated corpse.
"I wonder how it would make that bastard feel if I were to have my way with you. Would he be enraged? Would it send him into a blind fury, finally releasing that scaled monster he keeps so well tucked inside? His pain and anger would make him that much more fun to drain for my mistress. She likes it when they fight back." He latched his nauseating mouth to her neck, sucking roughly in a way that had her crying out in pain. "She and I have that in common."
She was going to be sick. She gagged, struggling underneath him for any way out.
"Yeah, scream, darling. It only makes me like it more to know how much it hurts you," he said with a dark chuckle. Hot and salty tears streamed down her cheeks as she allowed a sob to wrack her body. She didn't know what to do. There was no getting away from him.
"Please," she begged, squeezing her eyes shut. "Please d-don't."
He hummed against her neck, biting her roughly, sharp canines nicking her skin and sending drips of blood cascading down to her clavicle. He lapped it up with his tongue. His hands forcefully roamed her body. His touch was harsh and aggressive. He squeezed her skin hard enough to bruise.
He grabbed the intimate areas between her legs roughly, having his way and violating her fully. He rubbed that part of her body, whispering sick threats in her ears as she wailed. He wanted to see her cry, to see that he'd ruined her. She sobbed harder, the cries coming out of her throat like feral keens of a dying cat. She begged anyone to hear her and help.
She felt him before she saw him. A suffocating power vacuum filled the space as the stranger was roughly yanked off of her. His body was flung harshly, smacking into the wall with impressive force before crumbling to the floor. He groaned, rubbing his back to massage away the hurt. It had knocked the air from his lungs.
Azriel stood in front of her, siphons thrumming with the power radiating from him. His hair was mussed, eyes blown wide and nostrils flared. She cowered backwards, having never seen just how much power the Illyrian truly possessed. His pupils were so dilated she could barely see the color of his eyes.
Deciding she was fine until he finished the job, he languidly glided over to where the void stranger had regained his footing. Azriel grinned a wicked grin as the man charged him. He landed a crushing knee to the man's stomach.
The stranger doubled over, heaving and emptying the contents of his stomach as he wheezed. He knelt on his hands and knees. Azriel, still grinning like mad, pressed a heavy booted foot on the strangers back, applying all of his weight and sending the stranger crashing back against the floor with a sickening crunch. Ribs snapped and his head hit the floor so hard that Calina gasped, hand flying up to cover her mouth.
The man coughed, sputtering as his blood sprayed onto the wood floors. He choked on his own life force, fighting with each breath in and out of his mouth. But Azriel was far from done with him. He was trying to make it as painful a death as possible. No doubt he would have prolonged the torture if he'd had the capabilities or space.
Azriel crouched down next to the man, lifting his hand to inspect.
"You think you can touch what's mine?" He scoffed, voice like night incarnate. His shadows billowed around him, making him appear as a figure from a nightmare. There was a bottomless darkness in him she'd never seen before. Honestly, it was... She cursed herself mentally for thinking it was attractive. She shouldn't think so. It was violent and sadistic.
Azriel, with a look of cool indifference begins to bend back his fingers one my one until they snapped and bent at unnatural angles, leaving his hand mangled and immobilized. Then he picked up the other hand, holding the tips of the man's fingers before shrugging and bringing his dagger down, sawing off the man's fingers, blood spouting and covering him and spraying across his face. The blood was too dark. It was otherwordly.
She watched her mate carve the man who had moments ago assaulted her. Every time she thought he was done and had fulfilled his need for revenge, she was wrong. He'd just find a new way to drag those pathetic gargling cries from his lips. His body lay in an ever growing puddle of ichor, as he slowly stopped fighting back.
His eyes went blank, face going slack with lifelessness. Azriel toed the body with his boot, flipping the man onto his back. With a snarl, he lifted his heavy foot and slammed it down on the man's most vulnerable piece of anatomy, the final punishment for the one who was assaulting his mate.
Azriel's chest heaved, looking down at the mess he'd made. He blinked a few times, as if coming back into himself. His shadows dispersed. He looked up at her, a look of pure terror in his eyes. He started towards her and she flinched. Seeing her reaction, he froze, mouth slightly agape.
She eyed him warily, unsure of what to do or what to say or how to react.
"Callie, are you okay, bunny? Please tell me you're okay. I am so so fucking sorry, baby. God, I'm so fucking sorry." He was crying now. She stepped towards him and understanding this as an invitation, he swept her up into his arms in a crushing hug. They both cried, silently feeling each other tremble as they clung to one another for dear life. "I'm so sorry, Callie. So, so sorry. You're safe now. I won't leave you again. I'm so sorry." He whispered the words into her hair. She held him tighter against herself.
The string behind her navel she'd always felt tugging her towards him was aching, knotting itsself to him and silently begging him to never let go. She felt so icky, so dirty. She felt like a layer of grime clung to her skin, sullying her.
She tried to block her mind from imagining what would have happened to her if Azriel hadn't arrived exactly when he did. She didn't know what kind of creature the man was. Didn't know how to cope with any of it.
She jerked back and his hands cupped the sides of her face, searching her eyes in a panic, desperate to understand what was causing her strife.
"H-he said..." she swallowed. "He said he had friends who were going to capture you and take you to Maeve." Her voice was frail and shaky. His thumbs swiped across her cheeks, wiping her tears. His eyes were red and wet with his own emotions.
"They're dead," he assured her. Her shoulders sagged with relief and he pulled her back into his arms, murmuring to her that everything was going to be okay, that she was going to be okay. She buried her face in his neck and he lifted her, moving to sit on the couch as she lay on him, finding comfort in his scent and warmth.
"Thank you," she murmured against his throat. He stiffened.
"Cal, please don't thank me. This never would have happened if I wasn't meddling in Maeve's affairs and if I hadn't been such a dick and refused to listen to you. Please, please don't thank me." His voice was so pained.
"You saved me," she said.
"I endangered you," he corrected. She shook her head.
They both tried not to think about the body still laying on the floor, dissected and crushed. She sniffed, wiping her eyes and leaning back to look at him.
"Thank you," she said again, looking him in the eyes as she enunciated every syllable.
His eyes squeezed shut. She leaned, planting a kiss on his cheek. His eyes blew wide, looking back at her. "Thank you," she repeated. He stared at her a long while before using his free hand to pull her back into his chest so he could feel her breath on his neck.
She wondered if he'd missed this, missed this intimacy with her. She couldn't remember anything about their relationship, but from the dream she'd had last night, she knew enough to know they'd been mates in a literal and emotional sense. She wondered if this version of herself was different than the one he'd grown accustomed to and comfortable with.
She couldn't even remember him and she had missed him. Had he missed her?
"We do have to leave, though," he said softly. "It's not safe for you here anymore. I've been ambushed twice. They know we're here."
"Where will we go?"
"A failsafe I always told myself I'd only use if I had no other options. It seems like that's the point we're nearing. We'll have to fly though, if that's okay with you?" His tone was gentle, soft, as if he expected her to shatter at any moment.
Her heartbeat picked up and he took note, laughing and squeezing her harder.
"You've done it many, many times before. You actually really liked it," he said with a faint smile. His eyes were far away, remembering scraps from another lifetime. She nodded.
"Will you tell me more about what it was like? With us, I mean. Before... everything. Will you tell me about us?" He was silent for a while, mulling over her words. She focused on the rise and fall of his chest to anchor her to the moment.
"Soon," he said. A small blossom of hope took root in her heart.
He held her for a while longer, until he was sure she was stable enough for the trip. They gathered the small amount of things they'd be able to take with them and each washed the black, crusted blood from their bodies and hair.
They avoided looking at the blood stain on the floor. Azriel had at least dumped the body somewhere else while she bathed so she wouldn't have to see it again. Once they were ready, he picked her up and launched them body into the night sky. Snow flurries cascaded around them as the icy wind bit her face. Her eyes began to water, so she tucked her face back into his neck and closed her eyes.