I stood outside our room, Azryth on the other side, my hand raised to knock, my stomach in knots.
Through the binding, I could feel him in there, not far, maybe sitting on the bed or standing by the window. His emotions were carefully locked down, but I caught the edges, unease, wariness, that controlled distance he used when he was trying very hard not to feel things.
My fault…all of it is my fault.
I'd manifested a weapon designed to kill demon lords, designed to kill him, specifically, and now he was in there processing the fact that his accidentally acquired spouse could end his existence with a thought.
I knocked, softly.
"Come in."
His voice was quiet and tired, not cold or angry, just... careful.
I opened the door.
Azryth was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at his hands, still in his training clothes, hair messed up like he'd been running his fingers through it repeatedly.
