Free Web NovelChapter 20: _Oddly Empathetic
Azrael’s POV
*****
8:15pm, Male dormitory building.
The events of tonight flashed through his mind like film reels. He stood by his window, looking down at the academy. There was a good view of the old blood Oak tree from up here—one that let him watch the professors, Dean and enforcers at work around the blood and body parts.
Azrael tapped his fingers slowly on the window’s edge. There was something wrong. Actually, he could list a plethora of things that were ’wrong’ from tonight’s events.
First off, how did the beasts break into the academy? He’d done his research, and he knew the entire compound and even some space beyond it were covered in layers of wards. Which kept the creatures of the night away.
Except vampires, of course. They had better, unique ways of blending in without being detected by the magic systems.
Secondly, the Dean’s arrival felt oddly late. Too late. Too convenient. He wasn’t foolish. A witch capable of opening portals at a whim should’ve been able to show up on time. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
And there’s no way he didn’t sense the disturbance. Using the excuse that he was tied up with cross-checking the wards didn’t add up either.
Dean Thorne and the entire academy body were hiding something. But right now, Azrael didn’t care much about that. Rather, his mind kept wandering to one last variable—
—Celeste.
"Why were they coming after you?" He whispered to himself, gaze trailing to the moon partially covered by clouds. "What was different about tonight?"
Trying to contact the High One to get answers was out of the question. You don’t reach out to the High one. She reaches out to you.
So, he thought of a close substitute. Someone who, in his absence, should be getting acquainted with their master by now.
Rubbing his index finger on his ring, his eyes closed. "Amunira. I stand here with my object of office and I call on you. Come to me—"
"What? No flowery words this time?" A silvery voice, followed by a gust of wind, whistled behind him.
He opened his eyes, glancing over his shoulder. And there she was.
"You arrived quickly." He muttered, spinning to face her tall form. "Enlighten me on why you haven’t left the forest yet."
"I did leave the forest, Dad," the last word came with so much sarcasm, it could cut if shaped into a knife. Lowering her arms from her chest, she took a few steps forward. "I just lingered around Asheville. You should see their cuisine... And their men."
A sly grin curved her mouth.
Azrael only blinked a couple of times before clearing his throat. "I need your opinions on something—"
"What?" She didn’t let him finish, eyes widening. "Don’t tell me you almost lost control around her again? Seriously, at this rate, I won’t be surprised if you drain her and..."
He didn’t need to speak or make any threats.
Just his cold, unamused glare was enough to make her pause, eyes flickering in a way that showed she wasn’t ready to truly incur his wrath.
During her last visit, Azrael had... Confided in her. Told her how his fangs almost came out when he was around Celeste. He’d deduced that too much contact with her somehow activated his primal instincts. Probably through this "bond" he still didn’t understand.
But then there was the brief interaction at the memorial—
Even during the attack, when he spotted Silas carrying her away, his most violent urges almost kicked in. He’d felt like grabbing the wolf and staking him through a lamp post. He’d imagined the blood. The gore. Watching his life bleed out with every twitch and strained gasp.
Of course, he had to hold himself back.
"Alright, alright. Forgive my teasing." Amunira’s sharp voice broke his thoughts. "What then do you need my opinion on? I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure our brethren would get jealous if they found out we’re meeting up so much. In one night."
Azrael placed his arms behind his back.
Gods, he definitely didn’t miss her agitating talks.
"The academy got attacked by Vein beasts. During the memorial." He began.
She arched her brow. "Oh? That explains the stench of death and chaos in the air." Sighing, she flung her head back, letting out a bored grunt. "Must’ve been fun to watch. All that exhilarating fear—"
"Concentrate," He shifted, leaning against the desk close to his window. "Ignoring how they managed to get in, their formation was... Precise. Planned. They had a single target and barely touched anyone who wasn’t in their way."
That seemed to grab her attention. She tilted her head, tapping her foot on the ground a few times. "A... Target? Don’t tell me...?"
His nod made her lips part with shock. Clear sign that even she didn’t understand what was happening.
Still, he asked:
"The High one. Could she be sending these Vein beasts after Celeste? Or is the Vein itself producing beasts outside her influence?"
Amunira scoffed. "Careful with those questions. Also, anything I know about the High One’s plans is just as much as whatever you know. Probably less if we’re being realistic."
Bloody hell...
"But I have a theory though." She snapped her fingers, making him narrow his eyes at her. "This... mate bond awakened last night. And now there’s a Vein beast attack tonight? Doesn’t that feel too coincidental?"
Hm... She made a good point.
"What if the bond’s awakening sparked something that’s... Acting like a beacon to the beasts?" Amunira seemed like she was speaking more to herself, her tone filled with intrigue. "Something that’s making them go feral. That might be her true nature revealing itself."
The silence was deafening.
Deliberately, he turned his back on her. His gaze went outside the window again, this time settling on the night sky and the parting clouds.
"If that’s the case," he drawled. "The High One should hopefully make a move. Soon. For the academy’s sake."
"For the academy or HER?" Amunira cooed. "Careful, Azzy. Your words just now sounded oddly... Empathetic."
He didn’t react. Because whiffing through the night air like a burnt offering was the scent of a girl who’s made him question himself in barely a day.
It was addictive. Inviting. That sweet hint of vanilla and lilies made his fangs itch just beneath his gums. frёewebnoѵēl.com
Placing a finger over his mouth, he gnashed his teeth.
And somewhere in the night—she stirred in response to him.
