2. The Penitent
2. The Penitent
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I wake with a jolt, terror gripping me by the throat as my lungs seize. Sweat beads along my brow, my hair sticking to my forehead, and I blink rapidly, trying to discern my surroundings. It’s so dark I can’t see, and the memory of Caleb’s rotting flesh is alive and real in my mind.
For a moment, I wonder if I’m back there, beneath him. Helpless to save myself, my sister, or Bec.
The feeling of a hand on my arm startles me, and I scream, trying desperately to escape as I fight him off. But it’s Azrael’s voice that fills the space between us.
“Willow, it’s me.”
My lungs expand, drawing in a full breath as he flips on the bedside lamp and turns to face me.
“Come here,” he murmurs, dragging me into the sanctuary of his body as he wraps his arms around me.
I make one half-hearted effort to shrug him off before I close my eyes and start to cry again. I’m so sick of crying, but I can’t seem to stop. Every night for a week, it’s been like this. My mind has well and truly broken.
“It’s okay,” Azrael whispers, his lips brushing against my temple. “You’re safe here. I’ve got you.”
A cruel fate. Two souls condemned. An impossible love.
I knew he’d choose me before he came to our door on the night of the Tithing. I bore the mark that would make me his.
It was my ancestor who spoke the words that bound us together, and his demon-god who promised protection for the price of blood.
My blood.
I was prepared to be that sacrifice if it would keep my family safe.
Loving Azrael? The thought never crossed my mind. He was and would forever be my enemy.
He’s not the only monster coming for me, though, and somehow, it’s in Azrael’s arms I feel the safest.
But I need to be careful with him. I need to guard my heart because if I don’t, he is sure to destroy me.
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