Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Chapter 38: _Choose

Azrael’s POV

*****

7:05pm, Moonwood Pavilion Restaurant.

The restaurant was one of the academy’s prized possessions, situated near the far eastern wall.

Soft low lighting, enchanted glass walls and polished marble tiles made the space inside feel serene. That, along with the comfortable leather sofas and oak tables.

Alas, that serenity was far away from the academy’s resident vampire.

Azrael sat alone at a corner of the restaurant that gave him a view of the entrance. He watched students trooping in, laughing at their screens or making muffled remarks—which he easily heard.

And most of those remarks? Targeted at the picture posted on the academy’s "gossip" app.

Understanding this era was already a hassle so imagine trying to wrap his head around the concept of an app. In an academy. Made for gossip.

Worst still, he could feel Celeste through the bond. Her confusion. Her loneliness. All the emotions came crashing, spurring a deep desire to find her. To hold her amidst the storm.

But he knew how HE felt right now. If he met her tonight, he wouldn’t end up "holding" her. He had barely been able to keep himself restrained throughout today.

"Such misplaced priorities for a bunch of young adults." He scoffed again when he remembered the gossip app, lowering his head and taking a sip from the wine he ordered.

Since the awakening of him and the rest of his brethren two decades ago, he’s kept his blood consumption to a minimum. He rarely indulged in his blood lust, subjecting himself to mundane forms of sustenance instead.

Wine, meat, and cakes had become his favoured indulgences.

"Have you heard from Lysandra yet?" A feminine voice calling THAT name somewhere in the restaurant made him freeze.

Curiosity drowned out his sulking for a moment, making him focus his hearing on that voice.

It sounded... Familiar.

"You know she’s having dinner with her father and Luther." Another female voice added. "She should be back in an hour at most."

"But Nat, can we talk about the angles of that pic you took?" Yet another voice joined the fray, giggling softly. "You should consider taking a side job in photography."

"Ew, no."

The three girls laughed after that, unbothered about being in a public space.

Azrael raised his head, eyes immediately locking on their location.

Ah... Of course.

Lysandra’s obedient puppies.

All three of them sat around a table, already pestering a waiter to order food. Their put-together hair and pretty faces did nothing to catch his attention, though. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

No.

It was what they just talked about.

A picture.

"Could it be...?" He waited patiently to see if anyone would say something else.

Sure enough, one of them did just that.

"Blood Eye owes you big time for making their app trend this year." A wolf girl with short black hair tapped Natasha with a grin. "They’re already being tagged on X, Insta—"

"Shh," Natasha swatted her hand with a glare. "Can we give it a rest? It was merely an anonymous tip. One that has no business being exposed here."

Although the wolf girl had a frown, she glanced with understanding at her other friend. Then they all smiled knowingly, nodding to themselves.

Probably thinking no one paid attention to them.

"How quaint." Azrael took one last gulp from his wine. Getting up, he adjusted his sunglasses, not bothering to hide himself.

People spotted him almost instantly, pointing, whispering and throwing all sorts of speculations he couldn’t care less about.

He moved, steps clicking quietly on the marble until he got to the girls’ table.

None of them needed to look to sense his presence. They stopped whatever they were doing, pausing like mannequins.

Azrael let them pretend he wasn’t there for a few seconds. Then eventually—

"Uhm..." Natasha was the first to raise her head, eyes squinting when they fell on his face. "Can we help you?"

Already sounding defensive.

Hmph. This should be amusing. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

"Funny of you to ask that, Natasha." He strained her name like a curse, a small smile tugging the corner of his lips. "I must say, you have excellent timing. I was just wondering who has such an interest in my private affairs."

Silence.

Natasha’s lips parted, her heart beating faster. He could hear each thump and the way her breathing changed, too.

All signs of a guilty person.

"What are you talking about?" She tried playing dumb but it was too late.

Azrael knew.

She sent the picture to Blood Eye.

Slowly, he took steps forward, leaning down so he could get a better look at the ladies. His hands were in his pockets—but itched with the desire to take his glasses off.

Sad that he couldn’t risk it. Too many people could get caught in the chaotic effects.

"I’m guessing Lysandra set you up to it," he muttered, nodding once. "You—"

"Listen, dude." The black-haired wolf girl raised a hand. "We... We don’t want any trouble and have no clue what you’re accusing us of. Also, eavesdropping is—"

"I’m not here to exchange words with you uncouth brats," the last of his patience dissipated like mist. "Just here to give a... Word of advice to you and your ’queen bee’."

He took a hand out of his pocket, placing it on the table. "I will take what happened today as a harmless joke. But believe my lips... If any of you crosses a line when it comes to Celeste or my affairs with her..." Pausing, his mouth thinned into icy lines. "There won’t be a warning before I act."

No yelling. No use of any abilities. Even his tone was calm.

That was enough to pass his message.

And from the terrified expressions on the girls, it seemed that the message had been passed successfully.

Withdrawing his hand, he adjusted his coat, smirking. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

Eyes followed him from different corners of the restaurant when he headed for the exit. Some probably overheard his words and were already cooking up theories.

Let them.

Mortal affairs were becoming bothersome.

.

.

When Azrael got in front of his suite door, he let out a soft breath. The hallway was empty; most students were still outside intermingling after end of lessons.

For a moment he thought about Celeste while bringing out his key card. He should’ve checked on her. This whole thing with the picture would pass eventually, but he knew it left a mark.

"Not tonight." He shook his head, swiping the card and opening the door.

However, the second he stepped into the living room—he felt it.

A shift in the air.

Something wrong tugged at his instincts, making his brows furrow into a deep frown.

He turned on the lights with a flick of the wrist, strutting fast to the bathroom.

The body.

Atlas said he placed cloaking spells on it. He saw the witch meticulously placing those spells.

So could someone have—

"By the High One." His jaw fell when he opened the bathroom door.

Because on the floor where Miss Benedicta’s body was supposed to be lying undisturbed... There was nothing. No body, no magic residues. Even the blood stains and flies were gone without a trace.

As if the whole thing had just been a dream. Or the beginning of a nightmare.

Pasted on the bathroom mirror to his right was a piece of paper. And this time it had a different word on it, written in blood:

"Choose."

Azrael’s grip on the door handle tightened.

First, it was "confess". Now this person was saying he should "choose"?

Choose what?

—Choose who?