Chapter 22: The Fate Of The World

••{RHIANNON’S POV}••

The wind screams past my ears as I fall, drowning everything else.

My eyes are shut tight because I don’t want to see the ground rushing up to me.

I wait for the moment everything stops.

I wait for the eternal darkness when my body finally hits the ground.

I wait for my end.

But suddenly, the wind stops screaming past my ears and I’m no longer falling.

I don’t understand.

Is this what dying feels like?

Did I hit the ground so fast I didn’t even feel it?

I open my eyes very slowly, expecting nothing but darkness. But all I see are a pair of furious golden eyes glaring right into mine.

Azræl.

His arms are locked around me and he holds me tightly against his chest. And the both of us are...

Floating in mid-air?

"No, no, no, no," I say quietly, my voice trembling. "Just let me go."

"No," he answers sharply.

"Let me go!" I scream, pounding my fist against his chest.

The muscle in his jaw ticks as he clenches it, but his arms remain locked tight around me. He begins flying upward, carrying me back to the tower I jumped from. I jerk and twist in his hold, doing everything in my power to break free, but he’s impossibly strong.

We drift through the window and the moment his feet touch the floor, he storms over to the bed and practically throws me onto it, knocking the breath out of my lungs.

I feel nothing but anger, disappointment, and embarrassment. So I just lie there for a moment, letting those emotions consume me.

What draws my attention is the heavy sound of Azræl’s footsteps.

I sit up slowly to find him pacing the length of the room with his hands on his waist, and the anger in his eyes whenever he looks at me is so intense that I feel the heat of his gaze on my skin.

After a few heartbeats, he stops in front of me, roughly dragging his hands through his red hair as he lets out a frustrated growl.

"You are unbelievable," he says, his voice shaking with rage.

I cross my arms and look away. "Why do you care?"

"Why do I care?!" he barks, his voice ringing throughout the room. "Rhiannon, you just tried to kill yourself!"

I shoot up from the bed and storm toward him until we’re standing eye-to-eye.

"At least it’s a better fate than being caged here like livestock for you to feed on or a womb you can breed whenever it pleases you!" I scream at the top of my lungs.

He recoils, taking a small step back as if I slapped him across the face.

"I’m not an object, Azræl," my voice breaks, tears gathering in my eyes. "I’m not something you can own and imprison. I’m a person. I have feelings. I have a heart and it hurts!"

"Rhiannon..." he says, his voice firm but quiet. "I didn’t bring you here so I can bed you. And I already told you that I would never drink from your blood."

His expression slowly pulls into a frown.

"Do you seriously think this is what I want?" he asks, his voice rising with each word. "Do you honestly think that I’m doing any of this for selfish reasons?"

"Yes!" I scream. "Oh my goodness, yes, because what else could it possibly be if not for selfish reasons?!"

"That is not true," he growls, pointing a finger at me.

"But it is!" I cry, my voice trembling with each word. "You killed the man I love! You ripped his heart out of his chest before my eyes! How do you expect me to see anything but a monster when I look at you?!"

I erase the space left between us.

"I hate you, Azræl Bloodbourne," I sob, jabbing my finger into his chest. "I hate you so much I wish you could just fucking die!"

Azræl seizes my hand, his nostrils flaring as he looks into my eyes.

"You can hate me all you want," he says slowly, his voice low and rough. "But listen to me carefully. I’m not doing any of this for myself. I’m doing it for your sake. For the sake of the world."

I rip my hand free from his hold and step back, putting some space between us.

"I am sick and tired of hearing that stupid excuse from you and Nayeesha," I hiss. "Tell me, Azræl. Where exactly is the good in any of this? Is it in kidnapping me? In locking me in a cage? In forcing me into a marriage with you?"

"I tried to tell you but you wouldn’t let me speak!" he snaps.

The room falls silent after that, save for the sound of our heavy breathing as we stand still, furious and glaring daggers at each other.

After a long moment, I walk away from him and lower myself onto the bed.

"Fine," I mutter under my breath. "Say it. Make me understand how any of the horrors you’ve committed is for a good cause."

Azræl’s shoulders drop and a heavy sigh leaves his lips. His gaze falls to the floor, and for a moment, he stays silent.

"I have a twin brother," he says finally, lifting his eyes to mine. "And his name is Samæl."

He stretches out his hand and a chair at the far edge of the room glides toward him as if it’s being pulled by invisible strings. It stops right behind him and he drops into it, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He buries his face in his hands, and for a few heartbeats, he stays like that.

When he looks at me again... my gaze softens.

I’ve never seen this look on his face before.

It’s not cold or cruel.

He looks tired.

Worn down.

Human.

"I was never supposed to be emperor," he says quietly. "That was Samæl’s birthright."

Azræl leans back in his seat, running a hand down his face.

"Samæl and our father, Rhægar, never really saw eye to eye," he continues. "My brother despised our father’s ways. He wanted more. Why stop at nine kingdoms when he believed vampires should rule the entire world? He craved war and conquest. He wanted every other race that walks this earth to be enslaved. Can you even imagine a world like that?"

A shiver shoots through my body, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

"Samæl was obsessed with power," he says. "He wanted to become emperor so badly that he couldn’t wait to inherit the throne... so he killed our father."

Azræl bites down on his bottom lip and averts his gaze.

"At the time, some of the vassal rulers of the other eight kingdoms rallied behind him," he says quietly. "They believed in his vision of domination and once my father was dead, the empire fell into a civil war."

"You fought him?" I ask softly.

"I had to," he answers. "I rallied every house that opposed Samæl, and together we waged war against him for ten long years until he was finally defeated. I captured all his allies and had them executed for treason. But my brother escaped before I could punish him for his crimes."

"Did you ever find him?" I ask.

"No," Azræl replies. "He was fatally wounded when he fled. Two hundred years have passed since then and there’s been no sign of him, so everyone assumes he’s dead.

Azræl leans forward, lowering his voice till it’s barely above a whisper.

"But I don’t believe he is," he murmurs. "He’s hiding somewhere in the nine kingdoms, I can feel it in my bones. And I know he still has many followers. I know some of them are in Darkholme."

He slowly looks around the room before meeting my eyes again.

"Some of them could even be hiding within these walls," he whispers.

My heart immediately kicks against my ribs.

"That is why I trust no one," Azrael says.

"How..." I swallow the lump in my throat. "Why do you think your brother’s followers are hiding in this castle?"

"Quite a lot of people have heard stories of the ængel who fell from the heavens," he says, his tone unnervingly calm. "The one who still had half his divinity and took mortal lovers. Many call it myth, or legend... while few believe it to be true."

My fingers curl into the bedsheets.

"I’ve spent the last two hundred years searching for any descendants carrying his blood," he continues. "I did it alone because I couldn’t risk the wrong people knowing exactly what I was looking for."

He rises to his feet, crosses his arms and begins pacing back and forth slowly.

"A few months ago when I found the trail that eventually led me to you, I discovered that I was being followed by a band of spies."

He pauses for a heartbeat.

"They all fled before I could capture them," he goes on. "But the fact that I was being followed confirmed what I already feared. There are spies in this castle and they wanted to know what I was searching for."

My chest starts to ache from how hard my heart is racing.

"Do you think they’re connected to Samæl?" I ask.

He gives me a nod. "I know they are."

Azræl crosses the space between us and drops to one knee, gently taking my hands in his.

"Rhiannon," he says softly. "Samæl is the reason I took you from your home."

My brows slowly knit together. "What does any of this have to do with him?"

"During the civil war when he was planning to conquer the world, he knew the only thing that could hinder him was the sun. He also knew the stories of Nytheriel and started his search for his descendants long before I started mine."

My breath catches in my throat.

"If Samæl had found you first," he whispers. "He would drain your blood and become a god. He’d build an army that could withstand the sun and conquer every kingdom in the world."

Azræl’s fingers tighten around mine. "If that happens... your family, your people—everything and everyone you love will die."

My eyes widen, and all of a sudden, my chest feels so tight that I can’t breathe.

"I don’t know if my brother is still searching for you, but I know he’s out there somewhere," Azræl admits. "So when I discovered your bloodline I couldn’t leave you unprotected. I just couldn’t."

My hands begin to tremble in his grip, but he gives them a gentle squeeze, trying to steady me.

"Now, do you understand why I’m doing all of this?" he asks, his tone softer than ever. "Do you see why I had to take you from your family, even if it had to be by force?"

My sight blurs with tears.

I close my eyes, trying to hold them back, but still they slip through, running down my cheeks.

"I didn’t bring you here to use your body or to make myself more powerful," Azræl says firmly. "I’m marrying you to protect you. And even after the wedding I won’t ask anything from you or try to touch you."

I open my eyes slowly to find him looking at me with a tenderness I’ve never seen in his gaze before. He lifts his hands to my cheeks and carefully wipes away my tears, then he cradles my face in his palms.

"Rhiannon..." he whispers. "Look into my eyes and tell me you still hate me after everything I’ve told you.

I gaze into his golden eyes... and at that moment... I feel conflicted.

I understand him now.

I see the necessity and the reasoning behind his actions.

But understanding isn’t forgiveness.

It doesn’t bring Cyrus back.

It doesn’t erase the hatred that’s eating away at my heart.

Slowly, I pull my hands away from his.

"I’ve heard everything you have to say," I mutter.

"Alright," he nods. "I know this is probably overwhelming, but take as much time as you need to think about everything I’ve told you. And please... please, I beg you... don’t throw yourself out the window again."

"I won’t," I say quietly.

He lets out a soft sigh and stares at me for a moment longer before he rises to his feet.

"Goodnight," he murmurs.

I don’t answer him.

I just listen to his footsteps, the creak of the door as it opens, then finally, the silence after he leaves.

I wrap my arms around myself, staring at nothing in particular, my heart still pounding so hard that it’s painful.

Now I’m even more terrified than ever before.

My family... my people... and countless other lives are in danger.

And the fate of the world rests in my hands.