Epsilon [Werewolf]

Chapter 47

After Zion's brisk departure, Dr. Hershel returned minutes later with pain medication. My body still bleated with pain, but the aches were much less intense. After some help, I managed to get on my feet. I was dressed in a thin, white gown, hugging my sides like a simple dress. I dragged my black hair up in a ponytail to look at least half-presentable before I emerged into the hallways.

I noticed how a few people stopped to stare at me, their gazes ranging from awe-struck to sheepish to downright fearful. I paid them no heed; I just had to get to Azriel. 

I raced up the main stairs, taking a right instead of the usual left towards my room. I knew his quarters were located in one of the court's towers, specifically the one at the far-right, but who knew if I was headed in the right direction? I just had to hope my sense of direction was correct, even in my dulled state of mind.

Once I got to the bottom of the tower, I groaned. A set of spiral stairs stared me in the face. Of course, what had I expected? Sucking in a deep breath, I climbed up them, ignoring the dull ache of protest in my muscles.

I knew I'd arrived at the right place when I'd ended up in a small lobby, its black carpet fitting the black-painted door before me. Its handle was glossy gold, matching the gilded patterns that had been etched into the door, which upon closer inspection I realized were a bunch of tiny Alpha symbols. Whoever had crafted this must've had a very delicate hand.

I raised my hand to the door, hesitating. What if he was asleep? He had been awake for three days straight, after all, and not even a wolf could remain awake for so long. And it wasn't like I could just enter unannounced -- I mean, what if he was naked?

I found myself blushing at the thought, but I quickly shook it away. We'd been grinding on each other the other day; surely it wouldn't matter if I accidentally stumbled upon him undressed, right?

Sucking in a deep breath, I palmed the handle and twisted it, pushing the door open as quietly as I could.

As I'd expected, the room was lavish. Black hardwood floors were polished raw, and I could see my own sallow reflection staring back at me. A golden-laced rug was in the center, where two black velvet chairs sat before a golden accent table. Mahogany drawers and large bookshelves lined the room, stacked with books -- in fact, there were books lining almost every corner of the room. I never knew Azriel was into reading!

My eyes traveled forward, towards where a four-poster large bed stood. Its black satin covers bore close resemblance to Azriel's hair, the golden pillows matching the gossamer curtains that hung above every window. And, sitting upon the bed, with his head in his hands and his back hunched over, was Azriel.

"Go away, Zion," he muttered. His voice sounded heavy with defeat, and my heart dropped. "I'll go to bed soon, just--"

"Azriel...?"

His head snapped up, and I had to resist the urge to flinch. He looked like a mess -- his eyes were bloodshot; and by the black bags under them, I could safely say he hadn't slept in days. He eyed me in disbelief, slowly getting to his feet. His pants were crinkled; his white shirt disheveled and hanging off his frame like rags. 

He stared at me as though I wasn't real, like I was a ghost that had come back to haunt him. His bottom lip quivered as he stood to approach me, his delicate fingers reaching out to caress my cheek. Electricity formed upon the contact, and I didn't resist the urge to lean my head into his palm.

"Kyra..." he breathed, before wrapping me in a tight hug. One of his hands laced through my hair, while the other tugged at my waist, pulling me closer. I felt his body shaking against mine, and if he hadn't drained himself of tears already, I assumed he may have cried. I was crying -- tears of relief. He's safe, I thought joyfully. He's alive. He's here.

"I thought I was going to lose you," he said, his voice so impossibly quiet that it almost broke my heart. I had never seen him so vulnerable. 

I swallowed the tightness in my throat, trying to sound light-hearted despite the tears in my own eyes. "Hey, I don't die so easily, do I?"

His body shook harder as he pulled me further into his embrace. I loved the feeling of his hard body against mine, the way our warmth mingled. I loved the way his hot breaths -- despite being jagged and uneven -- brushed against my neck.

After a few moments of silence, Azriel pulled back and kissed the top of my forehead, the tenderness of his gesture making my insides melt. "I love you, Kyra," he said, the words stealing the air from my lungs. "I love you, and I never thought I'd get to tell you. I thought you would go to your grave without ever knowing how much I loved you--"

He stopped himself, obviously fighting the tightness in his throat. His words warmed my heart, and new tears formed at my ducts. I tenderly grabbed his hand, elevating myself to my toes as I kissed his lips. They felt so full and soft against mine, so safe. I realized this was where I belonged: safe in his arms, beside him. With  him.

"I love you too, Azriel," I murmured, and I meant it. I'd loved him for a long time -- I just hadn't the spine to admit it. Azriel began to shake again, and within seconds I was tangled within another one of his tight hugs. He kissed the top of my hair, and I felt my knees go weak at the gesture. 

"I'm never letting you go, Kyra," he promised, gripping me tighter. "I'll never let you go that close to the edge -- never again."

And I believed him. In fact, I knew deep in my heart that he would keep me safe.

"I love you--" I felt his throat bob against my head. Silence ensued, and I waited for whatever words would leave his mouth next, for the next lull of his lovely voice. 

"-- my mate."