Page 31 of Love, Rekindled

“He needs the sword because he’s cursed.”

She frowned in pretend confusion, waving the sword in a gesture that forced the fey to take a quick step backward. She wanted space in case the male decided to try and physically take the weapon from her.

“What’s a curse got to do with this?”

“His soul is bound to it.”

She held the sword in front of her face as if inspecting it for some sign of the soul. “You did that?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

The male’s jaw tightened. He didn’t want to answer. Then again, he knew he couldn’t overpower her.

“When he was human, his Viking ship landed near my tribal land,” he muttered.

She clicked her tongue in impatience, hoping the Sylvermyst couldn’t detect the shudders of agony that had started to vibrate through her body. The sword was doing everything in its power to escape.

“And? A mortal couldn’t hurt a Sylvermyst. Even if he was a Viking.”

“No, but he could plunder and destroy the village of the local humans.”

“So?”

The snow was picking up, falling from the clouds in thick swirls of white. Within the blink of an eye, the path was covered in a frozen layer.

“Those humans were our slaves. Not to mention, they provided females for our harems,” Silvanus complained. “He had no right to destroy them.”

Jayla frowned, genuinely puzzled by the fey’s petulance. It wasn’t uncommon for demons to consider humans their personal servants or to choose them to warm their beds. But one human was as good as another. Why did he take these humans’ deaths so personally? And why Azrael.

“Surely, he didn’t do all the plundering,” she pointed out, keeping her tone casual. She didn’t want him to realize the importance of his answer. “Did you curse the others?”

“Azrael was the leader, and his reputation preceded him.” The male’s lips twisted. “The Angel of Death.”

“Angel of Death?” she repeated, recalling her first encounter with Azrael.

There’d been something…lethal about him. Even when he’d tried to avoid fighting her, she’d known that he could destroy her with terrifying ease. That’s why she’d used her power. But since he’d arrived in Hong Kong, there’d been something different about him.

Oh, he wasn’t harmless. Far from it. But he’d lost the brutal edge of a mercenary. Just as she’d lost an assassin’s ability to kill without mercy.

“That’s what people called him,” Silvanus said, his voice harsh with anger. “He even had wings tattooed on his back to help spread the rumors. He enjoyed the fear that rippled through the lands.”

Jayla abruptly realized why this male had cursed Azrael. It wasn’t about him pillaging the humans or destroying his harem.

Silvanus was jealous.

Azrael had obviously been a legend in his time. A fearsome warrior who’d spread terror throughout the lands. The Sylvermyst had been just another evil fey who would never have songs written about him or cause nightmares among the natives. He was a dull, petty creature.

It might have been funny if it hadn’t nearly caused Azrael’s tragic end.

“So, you decided to punish him?” she forced herself to ask, sending a glance toward Azrael.

They had the information on why he had been cursed. It was time to get rid of the disgusting creature.

Unaware of his impending death, Silvanus smirked at the memory of cursing his enemy.

“Yes. And it had to be a punishment that would last for an eternity.” The smirk faded as his eyes flashed with frustration. “I planned to use the sword to torment him, but before I could have my fun, I was forced to leave this world.”

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