Page 9 of Ruling in Flames (Reborn 5)
There was something distinctly different about Azrael when he was like this—it almost reminded me of when my mates’ dragons took over. It was still him, but there was a predatory energy to him that lit up every inch of me with an intoxicating measure of sensations.
“Do you want to see me shift sometime?” I asked nervously, my teeth biting down on my bottom lip.
“Yes,” he immediately answered before exhaling, as if not having meant to respond so quickly. “Fuck, this is a mess.”
“What’s a mess?” I asked seriously, my fingers coming up again to brush across his jawline. Now that those shackles were off, Azrael seemed so much morealive.Everything about him radiated with energy and life. It was addicting to be around.
“This situation, the fact that you…you marked me.”
I froze. “What did I do?”
His eyes filled with a strong and dark emotion that I didn’t fully understand. “You didn’t do it on purpose?”
“Maybe? I don’t know what I did,” I whispered. The idea of marking Azrael was far from unappealing, but I wanted to understand what he was talking about.
“Fuck,” he hissed out. “That’s even worse. I didn’t understand why you would’ve marked me, hell,howyou even marked me… But you didn’t mean to. You didn’t want this.”
That wasn’t true. I wanted this—whateverthiswas. I could see he was hurt at the concept of me not wanting this,and that had me panicking.
He went to sit back, and I immediately followed him, reaching out to touch his arm exactly as I had before when he went to destroy the stone in the prison. Before I could ask him to explain, our magic collided in an electric burst and we were shownexactlywhat happened between us, our magic very obviously not wanting any misunderstandings.
In that mere second, it was extremely easy to understand how we had become connected. I had reached out to touch him when he said he would break the stone because I’d felt something was wrong, and my phoenix recognized it—not only recognized it, but connected to his magic, circling it completely in a protective gold coating. It wasn’t a bond that should’ve existed. It was purely unique, but apparently my magic had taken the matter into its own hands, refusing to let Azrael die for us. Recognizing that his sacrifice made him worthy of being saved.
I pulled back, breathing unevenly as he stared at me with shock as he exhaled. “Your magic… It marked me. It formed aimmolatio bond—a sacrificial bond. You somehow knew what I was going to do and what it would result in. I don’t know how you knew, but you did.”
My eyes moved down to where I was holding him, and I realized there was a handprint there, one that wrapped around his wrist in gold. It began to fade as I released my hold on him, but a faint outline remained.
“A sacrificial bond? I've never heard of anything like that,” I said in soft surprise, feeling thrilled that we had formed some type of connection. It was selfish, but I wasn’t one to ignore how I felt about things, and Azrael made me feel something.
I was distracted enough by that thought that I didn’t realize how much he was freaking out. His face was pale, and he was tracking every expression that crossed my own.
“It’s a type of bond that is extremely rare,” he murmured, but I could tell he was holding something back from me.
“And one you don’t like.”
“I didn’t say that.” He let out a slow exhale, his eyes darting away from mine. “I don’t want you to feel forced into something, Maya—especially something this serious.”
“I know there’s a lot we don’t know about each other,” I murmured, drawing his attention back, “but I don’t mind being connected to you, Azrael.”
In a fast movement, he caught my jaw gently but firmly and spoke in a hard whisper. “Don’t say my name out loud,mon lapin.”
“Why?” I asked in surprise, feeling nervous. “Is it a secret?” I didn’t mind having a secret between the two of us. Instead of being intimidated by his movement, I melted into it.
“Names have a lot of power, more so with mine,” he bit out, though I could tell his anger wasn’t directed at me. He examined the area around us before refocusing on me.
“Can I call you something else then? What about Az?”
“Like a nickname?” he asked, tilting his head, a flash of soft vulnerability crossing his face. Also caution—there seemed like a lot of caution in his expression in relation to me.
“Exactly like that. It doesn’t have to be Az—”
“I love Az,” he admitted. “I’ve never had a nickname before.”
“I’ve never met an angel before,” I pointed out before frowning slightly. “I haven’t asked you…actually, I’m not positive I can ask…but is that what you are? An angel?”
“Yes.”
“Like Azrael… the Angel of Death?”
