★AZRAEL★
I woke to find my wife curled against me, peaceful and warm — not touching my torso, but close enough that I could feel the soft rhythm of her breathing. I lay still for a moment, just watching her sleep, turning over the thought I always tried not to linger on. What it would be like to let her touch me properly. To kiss her and feel her against me without the constant, exhausting work of restraint.
I groaned inwardly and put the thought where it belonged — nowhere.
It wasn't even a reasonable consideration. The moment my lips met hers with any real intent, my fangs would betray me, and the last thing I wanted was to see fear replace the ease she had finally begun to carry around me.
Mira stirred, made a small sound, and opened her eyes. Those eyes — honestly.
"Azrael," she said softly.
"Did I wake you? Go back to sleep."
"No." She shook her head, still drowsy. "I wanted to be awake before you left."
The past few mornings of slipping out before she stirred had clearly registered with her, and the knowledge of it sat uncomfortably with me. "I won't leave before you're awake again, wife."
She smiled at that — warm and unhurried. "It is entirely alright, you know. You are a busy man, and this is a demanding time of year." She pushed herself upright. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for the day?"
"I should," I said. And yet I made no move to leave.
"Do you want to bathe together?"
The words were out before I had any say in the matter. My wife's eyes went so wide her lashes nearly grazed her brows.
"What — no!" Her face flooded with colour immediately. "I mean — I do not think we have arrived at that particular stage yet," she added, with slightly more composure.
I smiled and stood. "An errant thought. Pay it no mind."
Her brows pulled together in a small frown that I found entirely too amusing.
"I'll use the bathroom first," I said, and left her to it.
After we had both bathed and dressed, we went down for breakfast. It was quieter than usual — a comfortable kind of quiet, the sort that did not need filling. After we ate, Noah and I left the castle for the court.
The boardroom was already thick with tension when we stepped inside. I took my seat at the head of the table, Noah to my right, and gestured for them to begin.
Josh — the last surviving advisor from my father's council — spoke first. He looked around the room before settling his gaze on me. "May you live long, Alpha King Azrael."
I gave a thin smile. I could do with the prayer, frankly. I could smell my own mortality more clearly with each passing week.
"We have heard news of your new wife," he continued. "We wondered why she was not brought before us."
My brows rose. "If word of her has reached you already, an introduction seems rather redundant." The words came out sharper than I had aimed for. The mere idea of these old men turning their attention to my wife put me in a foul mood with very little effort.
The elders exchanged glances.
Josh cleared his throat. "There is also the matter of — that is to say, now that you have taken a wife again — the question of an heir."
I said nothing.
Jonathan, seated midway down the table, pressed forward. "You have had six wives, Alpha King. Not one of them survived past a week. This one has been with us a fortnight now. Surely it is not unreasonable to—"
The room came alive with murmurs of agreement, and I let it run for precisely three seconds before I'd had enough.
"Enough." The room went quiet. "You would have me pursue an heir with a woman who wakes each morning not knowing if it will be her last?"
Silence.
"Whether I father a child is my affair and no one else's at this table." My voice was low and controlled, which was somehow worse than shouting, and they all knew it. "Your concern is this pack — its borders, its people, its welfare. That is the entirety of your business here. I can die without an heir if I choose to. I can have ten children if I choose to. Not a single one of you has a say in it."
I pushed back my chair, stood, and walked out.
The cool air of the corridor settled over me as I stopped and let myself breathe. Footsteps followed — unhurried, familiar.
"She makes you lose your footing," Noah said.
I glanced back at him. "Did you follow me out here purely to offer observations, or was there something useful you wanted to say?"
"Both," he said, perfectly even. "The elders would have found the second thing useful, had the first thing not consumed the entire meeting." He opened the notebook he carried whenever we attended court and retrieved a photograph. "The eastern border. It has been confirmed — there are rogues in the minor woodland."
I took the photograph and studied it. "How was it confirmed?"
"Bones." He tapped the image. "Rogue bones are considerably more slight than a wolf's — they strip themselves down when food runs scarce."
"And you have noticed a pattern in their movements?"
He exchanged the first photograph for a second. "They emerge predominantly at midday rather than after dark."
I looked up. "Because they believe we move more freely at night."
The faintest suggestion of a smile crossed Noah's face. I did not see it often since the loss of his parents, and I never commented on it when it appeared. "Precisely. They are not particularly clever creatures, and their numbers are small. Rurik, Kellan, and Vince should be more than sufficient."
"Gather the fighters," I said. "We go now."
We went to the armory. Noah assembled Rurik, Kellan, Vince, and a handful of others while I changed out of my suit and into the attack gear. Dark, close-fitting layers — flexible enough for speed, durable enough to absorb a hit. The jacket held blades and stakes in seams designed so that my hands found them instinctively, without having to think. Silent boots. Weapons strapped flat against my body, out of sight and ready.
We moved out on foot toward the eastern border. The terrain shifted as we went — open ground giving way to denser grass, then tree line, then proper forest. An ideal place to disappear into, if one were inclined to hide.
"You think they know we're coming?" Kellan asked.
"They are not that clever," I said.
I led from the front, Noah at my side, the others fanned out behind us. We moved deeper into the trees. The undergrowth thickened. Nothing stirred.
"This is strange—" Rurik began.
I raised my hand and he stopped.
"Do you hear that?" I said quietly to Noah.
Every man behind me went still. We stood without sound and let the forest speak.
It came through clearly then — a low snarl, a chittering, something that was not quite a growl and not quite anything else. It set the hairs on the back of my neck upright.
"They're in the cover," Noah murmured.
"They won't break it until we move."
So we moved.
From the tree line to our left, a creature burst through—ash-grey, skeletal, all frantic speed and feral purpose. It did not announce itself. It simply launched.
Bang!