The fire crackled low in the cave, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. Jayden sat with her knees hugged to her chest, chin resting atop them. Azrael was nearby, sharpening the edge of his scythe with slow, deliberate movements. It wasn't the metal that needed polishing—it was his mind. Distraction was dangerous. Especially now.
Jayden hadn't spoken in over an hour. Her silver eye shimmered in the dark like moonlight catching on a blade. Azrael glanced at her.
"You're quiet," he finally said.
She looked up. "I had another dream."
Azrael paused. "Him again?"
She nodded. "Mammoth."
The air turned cold. The fire sputtered.
Jayden's voice was barely a whisper. "He touched my cheek this time. He said you're hiding the truth from me. That you'll never tell me who I really am. He says I was born cursed... and that you know why."
Azrael stood so fast the fire responded, rising in a sudden gust. His shadow stretched long across the stone walls, and for a moment, she swore his eyes glowed like gold embers.
"Did he hurt you?" His voice was low, dangerous.
Jayden hesitated. "Not really. But... it felt wrong. Intimate. He said I belong to him."
Azrael's expression turned to stone. "You belong to no—" He stopped, jaw clenched. His voice dropped to a dark growl. "You belong to me."
Jayden's breath caught. Her heart skipped, then raced.
He stepped closer, the air thickening between them. "If he touches you again, even in your dreams... I will find him. I will drag his spirit to the deepest pit of death and make him beg to vanish."
Jayden looked away, her cheeks burning, not from fear—but from how close he was. From his voice. From the heat of his presence.
"You say I'm yours," she whispered. "Why do you look at me like that, then? Like I'm not just yours to protect... but yours to devour?"
Azrael's gaze sharpened, but he said nothing.
Jayden's voice came again, trembling but bold. "You said you don't feel lust or love... but the way you look at me doesn't feel empty at all."
He moved closer, until she could feel the weight of his stare against her skin. "Is that so?" His voice was like velvet soaked in danger.
Jayden blinked, suddenly flustered. "It's... not important."
Azrael leaned in, tilting his head as his lips hovered near her ear. "You speak like you don't want it... but your eyes tell a different story."
She gasped softly.
Then, with a smirk tugging at his lips, he stepped back just slightly. "What's wrong, little one?" he asked. "You look like you're afraid I'll bite."
Jayden's face turned bright red. "I-I'm not afraid."
His eyes gleamed. "Good. Because if I stop looking... you'd miss it."
Her mouth parted slightly, caught off guard by how easily he turned her world sideways.
"I hate you," she muttered under her breath.
He laughed low and dark. "No, you don't."
And with a slow turn, he walked away, leaving her flushed, breathless, and burning.
She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to calm her racing heart. He enjoyed it—every second of her unraveling. And she hated how much a part of her wanted to let him keep doing it.
The next morning, soft sunlight filtered through the cave entrance. It painted the stone in pale gold, warming the otherwise cold air. Jayden stirred from sleep, still curled in the blanket Azrael had quietly laid over her sometime during the night.
She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, the events from the night before dancing in her mind—his voice, his eyes, that smirk that still made her chest flutter. Her cheeks warmed again just thinking about it.
Azrael stood at the cave's edge, back turned, watching the sunrise with arms crossed. He hadn't spoken since he teased her last night... and part of her was mad about it.
"You're pretending like nothing happened," she mumbled loud enough for him to hear.
He glanced over his shoulder. "Nothing did happen."
She narrowed her eyes and stood, brushing out her hair with her fingers. "You know what I mean."
He turned fully now, his golden eyes meeting hers. "If something had happened, you wouldn't be standing so far from me."
Her jaw dropped slightly, but she quickly covered it with a huff, grabbing an apple from their small pile of foraged food. "You're insufferable."
"Yet here I am," he said, walking toward her, "the first face you see in the morning."
Jayden bit into the apple, avoiding his gaze. "Not by choice."
"You asked me to stay."
She blushed again, this time without a witty retort. He was right.
Azrael sat down beside her with an unreadable expression. The air between them was quieter now, more vulnerable than heated. Jayden took a deep breath.
"I've been thinking," she said softly. "About Mammoth. And what he said."
Azrael's jaw tightened.
"I don't trust him," she continued, "but... there's a part of me that wants to know the truth. About who I really am. What's inside me. And why the dead seem to... follow me."
Azrael was silent for a moment. Then, with a voice low but sincere, he said, "The dead are drawn to you because your soul carries both death and life. You're cursed—but you're also something... unwritten. That's why ghosts linger. They see something in you."
"Something I don't even see in myself," she whispered.
He looked at her then, really looked. "Not yet. But you will."
There was a quiet beat between them. Jayden slowly leaned against his shoulder, surprising herself more than him.
"Just... stay for a bit," she murmured.
He didn't move away. "I wasn't planning on leaving."