Page 26 of His to Break
With unsteady hands, I grasp at the chains binding me to this wretched place; they rattle under pressure but do not yield. Yet even here—on this cold floor—something stirs within me; an ancient instinct driven by power and revenge.
Azrael gasps from his position; his gaze meets mine through bloodied lashes. There’s pain there—but also something else: respect? Understanding? Whatever it is sparks a fire inside me that pushes back against despair.
I fixate on him amidst the madness unfolding around us—the way his muscles tense with every strike he endures while still managing to meet my eyes without flinching. He doesn’t plead for mercy or show weakness; instead, he seems proud—a silent acknowledgment that we are bound together in ways neither of us fully understand yet.
Suddenly one guard falters, caught between fighting his fellow soldier and obeying my command. The hesitation gives me pause; can I push this further?
“Finish it!” I shout fiercely, willing them all to succumb to chaos until only one remains standing—or none at all.
Their resolve breaks entirely at that moment; they surge toward one another once more with renewed fervor fueled by blind rage—and suddenly it feels electric—the power surging through me feeds off their violence until it consumes everything in sight.
One final cry pierces the air before silence envelops the chamber once again—a chilling stillness settling over what remains of those who dared torment Azrael and challenge me.
Panting heavily now amidst broken bodies and spilled blood, I take stock of myself—the pulsating energy within begs for release still—but right now all that matters is Azrael’s battered form struggling against chains far more unyielding than those around my wrists.
I rush to Azrael’s side, heart pounding in my chest. My hands tremble as I fumble with the bindings that keep him chained. The metal feels cold and foreign against my skin, but I focus on his face—his eyes are shut tight, brows knitted in pain.
“Hold on,” I murmur, desperation lacing my words. With a final tug, the last chain snaps free. He slumps forward, groaning softly as he leans against me for support.
“Azrael!” I catch him, my arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. He feels heavy against me, but I won’t let him fall.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “I should have listened to you.”
He lets out a shuddering breath, his head resting against mine for a moment before he pushes himself away slightly to look at me. His glowing red eyes pierce through the dim light, filled with an intensity that causes me to shiver.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he rasps, each word a struggle as he straightens himself, using me for balance. “You put yourself in danger.”
“It's my fault that you're here,” I reply fiercely, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. “I had to do something.”
Azrael’s expression softens for just a moment before shadows cloud it again. “Power is not something to be taken lightly.” He winces as he shifts his weight onto his feet. “You don’t understand what you’re tampering with.”
“Maybe not,” I say defiantly, lifting my chin. “But I felt it—what’s inside me is real.”
His eyes narrow slightly as if weighing my words carefully. “It can consume you if you let it.”
Before I can respond, the distant sound of footsteps breaks through the tension-filled air—a reminder of how precarious our situation is. Panic flares in my chest as I glance back toward the entrance where dark elves could appear at any moment.
“We need to move,” Azrael insists suddenly, his voice low but urgent despite the pain lacing through it.
I nod quickly and help him steady himself; together we stagger towards a shadowed corridor just off the main chamber—the only escape route that might lead us away from danger.
With every step deeper into darkness beside him, something primal awakens within me—a fierce determination to fight not just for our survival but to claim what has always been denied: power over our fate and those who would see us broken.
22
AZRAEL
The corridors pulse with an oppressive silence, the kind that weighs heavy against my chest. Each step beside Kara sends jolts of tension coursing through me, anticipation thrumming in my veins. I feel her anxiety as we weave deeper into the dark elf stronghold, the echo of distant footsteps growing louder with every moment.
Kara grips my arm suddenly, her fingers digging into my skin. “This is our last chance,” she urges, urgency igniting her voice. “We have to do it now.”
I nod, the gravity of her words sinking in. My mind races with possibilities—freedom feels so close yet remains tantalizingly out of reach.
But then she leans closer, her gaze piercing through me. “If we’re going to do this, you have to stop holding me back.”
Reluctance surges within me; I want to protect her from every danger that lurks in the shadows. “Kara?—”
“No.” Her voice is firm, resolute. “You need to trust me. I can help us both.”
