Page 40 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
Tears return to my eyes yet again, filling me with a fiery frustration I don’t know what to do with.
The tension in Azrael’s posture softens as he studies me. No doubt recognizing the toppling of my baseless circumstances. He shakes his head, murmuring words I can barely hear.
“Sweet seraphim..."
Sweet angel.
Drawing in a deep shuddering breath, I direct my gaze out of the carriage window as my first tears fall. The words are whispered and lack any venom.
“And who are you to judge?”
I wonder how your soulbound feels about the company you keep.
Azrael remains silent so long that it finally drags my watery gaze back to his. I have no doubt he’s well aware of his infamous reputation: death, manipulation, cunning, adultery, and all the sins the breadth of which cannot be encompassed by any singular word.
“No one. I am far worse, even if only for different reasons.”
Gradually, I nod. “I expected as much.”
His silence provides the window of opportunity to finally fling the burning question from my lips.
“Where is yoursoulbound?”
Azrael grows impossibly still as his eyes lock with mine.
“Hiding. As per usual.”
My ire is fuelled by his admission. I arch a brow.
“Oh? Are you so cruel that not even your ownsoulboundcan tolerate your presence?”
The words, once spoken, make me nauseous. Guilt and remorse consume me. Despite his reputation, this formidable god has been nothing but kind to me... but then again, so was Lucen.
Azrael stares at me. His blank expression fails to mask the eons of suffering I see hidden behind it. His reply is barely a whisper. “Yes.”
A few moments pass before Azrael pulls on a latch in the wall of the carriage, where a brass horn unfolds from a panel. Azrael’s voice echoes through the driver’s seat behind my head. “Oleander, please take Ms. Vale anywhere she asks and ensure she returns home safely. Make yourself available to her in my absence—and if she needs a place to stay, please provide her with the keys to my estate. I need to return to Ourinessa earlier than anticipated.”
Oleander is swift to reply. “As you wish, my lord.”
He’s leaving...
Disappointment swells within me like a rising tide encroaching upon diminishing sands.
Azrael’s words are spoken softly. “You’ll forgive me if I’ve lost my appetite.”
I should be relieved.
So why the fuck am I mourning his absence already?
He studies me for several silent moments as if deliberating something before finally lifting thumb and forefinger to draw them together. Flowery whirls of lilac, dark gold, and shadow radiate from his fingertips as a large golden pin with an elegantfiligree head in the shape of a butterfly appears. Its wings look so much like my own, I can’t help but be a little taken aback.
He offers it to me, and a buzz of oddly familiar magic zings up my arm the moment I touch it. Something about it seems so familiar, though I cannot place how or why.
The sight and feel of it strike a chord somewhere deep within me. As though echoing a melody that my mind has forgotten but my soul knows.
“Where did you find this?”
He stares at the pin thoughtfully, voice softened as if by nostalgia.
