Page 13 of His to Break
“Keep it down, Kara,” one warns, though there’s an edge of humor in his tone. I shrug and press on. The idea of those elven bastards ever letting us bathe is downright comical.
I shake my head and push thoughts of cleanliness aside; instead, I decide to check on Azrael. His presence lingers in my mind like smoke from a fire I can’t escape. Serving him has become an obsession—though that isn’t the only reason for my visit.
As I weave through the labyrinthine corridors of the fortress, I hear it: the sharp crack of a whip followed by a blood-curdling scream that sends chills racing down my spine. My heart skips as I rush toward the sound, instinct pushing me forward. Is someone being hurt? Another slave?
But when I reach the source, dread fills me. It’s not another slave who suffers—it’s the guard from earlier today, the one who fell under my spell with just a whisper.
I step into the shadows and watch as dark elves surround him, their faces twisted with sadistic pleasure. Each lash brings forth another scream, echoing off stone walls like a symphony of pain.
My stomach twists at the sight—but beneath that churn lies something darker. A sick thrill courses through me as his eyes widen in terror and despair. This is what he deserves for threatening me earlier—no mercy shown.
Yet still, guilt creeps in alongside that exhilaration. How could I feel this way? This isn’t justice; it’s vengeance cloaked in brutality.
I turn away abruptly, my heart racing—not from fear but from something intoxicatingly powerful within me that cravesmore chaos and control. The thrill ignites every nerve ending; it’s exhilarating—like an addictive drug coursing through my veins.
The darkness inside whispers promises I’m desperate to explore as I hurry toward Azrael's chamber, knowing full well that whatever this power is, it’s mine to wield now.
I slip into Azrael's chambers, the heavy door thudding shut behind me. My heart races, adrenaline still coursing through my veins from what I just did. I can't help but gush, “You won’t believe what I’ve done this time!”
He looks up, eyes glimmering with curiosity. “Tell me.”
I rush over to him, my breath quickening as I settle onto his lap. His fingers glide along my thighs, tracing the skin with a feather-light touch that sends shivers up my spine.
“I saved them,” I blurt out, the words tumbling from my lips. “The women they were dragging in—those dark elves were going to hurt them.” I pause for a moment, reliving the thrill of the encounter. “I made that guard drop his weapon. He just… stood there like he was under a spell.”
Azrael's brow arches as he listens intently, an amused smirk creeping across his face. “And then?”
“And then…” My cheeks flush with a mix of excitement and guilt. “I watched them punish him for it.” A wicked grin spreads on my lips as I remember the satisfaction that swelled within me at witnessing his punishment. “It felt good to see him suffer.”
He chuckles softly, admiration gleaming in his eyes. “You’re growing stronger by the day.”
The praise wraps around me, igniting something deep inside—a pride that mixes dangerously with desire. I lean closer without thinking and capture his lips with mine in a fierce kiss, needing to feel that connection between us.
His mouth responds instantly; he groans against me as I bite down on his lip, drawing blood. The metallic taste ignitesa fire within me, and Azrael pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“I don’t know why I keep doing this,” I whisper breathlessly against his skin, our foreheads touching as we catch our breaths. “I can’t stay away from you.”
His grin widens, dark and knowing. “Nor can I.”
A surge of warmth spreads through me at his admission. Something powerful thrums beneath the surface between us—an undeniable bond that pulls me deeper into this chaotic dance we share. The world outside fades away; all that matters is him and this intoxicating moment.
“What are we becoming?” I murmur.
“Something powerful,” he replies softly, tracing patterns on my thigh again.
The thought sends chills down my spine as desire laces through every fiber of my being once more.
12
AZRAEL
The air crackles with an unspoken tension, thickening with every passing day. Each glance exchanged between Kara and me feels charged, the weight of desire simmering just beneath the surface. I can see it in her eyes—the way they light up when she talks about her newfound power, how each triumph over the dark elves makes her stronger. And yet, I remain acutely aware of my own desires, a storm brewing within me that demands release.
Kara arrives with food again, her tray laden with what appears to be a more generous portion than usual. I know the dark elves feed their slaves slop—gruel fit only for vermin—but Kara’s offerings come from my own meals. “You need to eat,” I insist, gesturing for her to take a seat beside me. She hesitates for a moment, uncertainty flickering across her face.
“It’s not right for me to take your food,” she murmurs, glancing at the meager remnants of what I have left untouched.
“Your strength is crucial to our plans,” I counter, my voice low and commanding. “If you starve yourself, you’ll only weaken our chances.” She bites her lip, considering my words before finally relenting. As she picks up a piece of bread and takes abite, I watch with satisfaction as color returns to her cheeks and muscle fills out her frame. The once gaunt girl who carried a sense of defeat now sits taller—stronger.
