But how could she not be? He was her husband, and yet everything about him terrified her. His touch was too close, too much. She wanted to shrink away from him, but she couldn't. She had spent two years alone, waiting for him, yet this moment—this overwhelming, daunting moment—was nothing like she had imagined.
Her hand instinctively fluttered to her collarbone, the sigil that marked her as his. The mark had always been a quiet part of her existence, a small mystery she barely understood. But now, it felt like a burning brand against her skin, a reminder of everything that had changed.
"I don't…" Her voice was barely a whisper, cracking under the weight of her fear. She took a hesitant step back, barely able to control the tremble in her hands. "I don't understand."
Azrael remained still, watching her with those piercing crimson eyes. They were unnervingly intense, a deep, glowing red that seemed to hold her captive, even when she wanted to look away. His presence was suffocating, and yet there was something about him—something that made her heart ache, even in her fear.
"You don't have to understand everything right now, little bride," Azrael said, his voice smooth and patient, though she could feel the underlying power that radiated from every word. He reached out, but stopped himself mid-motion, as if sensing her unease. The hand that had hovered near her cheek remained suspended, a faint shadow of a gesture that could have been comforting but felt like a storm waiting to burst.
Celeste flinched, her body instinctively recoiling. She immediately regretted it, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. She didn't want to hurt him. She didn't want to offend him—but she was so afraid.
Azrael's gaze softened for a brief moment, but his lips remained in a tight line. "You don't have to be afraid of me," he said, his tone almost a command, though laced with a quiet sorrow. "I will never hurt you."
The words rang in the air, but Celeste wasn't sure if she could trust them. How could she trust anyone—especially someone like him, someone who was so powerful, so terrifying? Her fingers trembled as she clasped them together in front of her, her gaze lowering to the floor in a mix of shame and insecurity.
She had never been good enough. Never seen for who she truly was. She wasn't like the other women in the palace, confident, poised, and certain of their place in the world. She was just Celeste, a quiet girl who had been forgotten by the very people who were supposed to care for her.
And now, standing before this powerful, dark figure, she felt smaller than ever. I'm nothing, she thought, the insecurities that had plagued her for years surfacing once more. Why would someone like him want anything to do with someone like me?
Azrael tilted his head, sensing her inner turmoil, though she hadn't spoken a word. "You are not nothing," he murmured, his voice surprisingly tender despite the underlying danger. "You're mine. And that is enough."
His words were a balm to her wounded heart, but they didn't erase the fear. How could they? The power in his words was undeniable, yet it only added to her anxiety.She was supposed to belong to him, but she didn't know how to belong to someone like him.
"Why…" She forced the words out, her voice small. "Why did you leave me? Why did you abandon me on our wedding day?"
Azrael's expression flickered for the briefest of moments, a shadow of pain crossing his face before he masked it with indifference. He took a slow step forward, but this time, his approach was careful, measured—he didn't reach for her. He wasn't forcing her to accept him.
"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice low and searching. There was something in his gaze, something that made her stomach twist. It wasn't just curiosity—it was a test.
Celeste's heart hammered in her chest. She wanted to say yes. She wanted to trust him, but fear clenched at her insides, and the words stuck in her throat.
"I…I don't know," she whispered, her eyes wide as she looked up at him, her body trembling in the silence. Her mind screamed to run—to escape from the unknown—but there was something in his presence that anchored her in place.
Azrael nodded slowly, as if understanding her hesitation, though the slightest flicker of disappointment crossed his features. "It will take time," he murmured, almost to himself. "I don't expect you to understand everything
now, Celeste. I never wanted to overwhelm you. But the time has come. You must come with me."
She flinched again at the idea of leaving the only place she had ever known. It was safer here, even if the walls were cold and the people cruel. But Azrael was right. She couldn't stay in this prison of fear forever.
"You are mine," he continued, his voice softer now, but no less commanding. "And you will come to understand what that means. But first, we must go."
Celeste didn't know what to say, how to protest. Her heart beat erratically in her chest, and she looked up at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty. She was terrified.
Terrified of him, terrified of what he meant. But, at the same time, there was a tiny spark of something else—a faint, unspoken need.
Her hands clutched the fabric of her dress, trying to steady herself. "I…I'll go," she whispered, barely able to hear her own voice over the pounding of her heart.
Azrael's gaze softened just slightly, a faint, unreadable emotion flickering in his eyes. He didn't move to touch her—he didn't press her any further. His expression softened, just enough for her to notice.
"Come with me, then," he said quietly, his voice still carrying that quiet authority, but now with a touch of patience.With a hesitant step, Celeste followed him, her every instinct telling her to turn and flee, but something—something deep inside her—held her back. She didn't know where he would take her. She didn't know what awaited her in the shadows he carried with him. But there was one thing she did know—her life had changed forever. And it was Azrael who would guide her into the unknown.