The words bit into her like a knife.
Requests? No, it was not a request. A summon from a king was never a request — it was an order.
Before she could process it, Azazeal walked in.
The energy in the air immediately shifted. It was as if he held the power in his hands.
Her blue eyes grew wide as she sees him standing in a long black robe opened just below the neck down to mid chest displaying his flawless skin and toned body.
The silence between them was as heavy as the storm clouds brewing
His half-familiar icy-gray eyes locked onto hers, keen and unwavering, without a thing to read, and his familiar, menacing presence exuded nothing short of intimidation.
Elora stiffened, fingers curling into fists at her side.
Had she sufficiently angered him to earn punishment tonight? Would he throw her away, or worse — have her killed?
He won't even wait till morning?
No one had spoken to her about what kind of man her husband was, only that he was powerful beyond comprehension.
His legend was forged of fear, and she'd seen firsthand why tonight.
" Hello, Elora."
Drawing a shaky breath, she stood and bowed low to greet him.
" Good evening your highness "A bit of silence passed between them.
" I apologize for what happened earlier, I assure you that I won't be making the mistake of leaving the castle walls without proper permission and protection. I'll comply and receive my punishments but I request that you leave my maids and pardon them." Her voice was quiet and remorseful
He moved closer to where she stood, and his tall body towered over her, the power radiating off him left her feeling small and weak.
His eyes roamed her pale features, the way loose strands of black hair framed her face, the delicate curve of her shoulders.
Sherifat looked pale and sickly, like she hadn't relaxed in a while.
His frown deepened.
"Why are you so pale?"
Now his tone was softer, almost … concerned.
Elora was startled by the gentleness of his touch when he brushed his fingers against her cheek.
His warmth seeped through her cold skin, and those same tingling sensations came rushing back, making her brain halt.
"You're the one who is too warm," she whispered snarkily before she could stop herself, and heat bloomed in her cheeks as she shrank beneath his gaze.
You just can't shut your mouth can you Elora?
She looked up shyly to gauge his reaction but unexpectedly, he only stared back with an emotion she couldn't place her hands on.
Azazeal's heart raced as his mate peeked at him shyly, Look at those rosy cheeks, she's so pretty. What on earth do I say to her now, she seems to think I'm going to punish her for going out. I wouldn't dare!
"What were you doing in the meadow tonight?. His cold voice rasped.
"I—I just wanted to see the view," she said, meekly.
His dark brow arched in silent amusement. Why is she pretending to be quiet and soft?
"And who taught you how to ride horses and how to use a bow?"
She paused before saying, "Casteel … I asked him to teach me."
A beat of silence stretched between them.
Azazeal studied her: his eyes drifting from her parted lips to her trembling fingers.
Then, as if he remembered something, his eyes fell to her arm.
He had subtly noticed her clutching her arm when she walked back to her chamber earlier and what he suspected was true
A large dark bruise in the shape of his fingers was already starting to form on her own wrist.
His expression changed, and anger blazed in his eyes.
He had hurt her, he had hurt his little mate.
He didn't deserve her.
A muscle in his jaw twitched "I hurt your hand, didn't I? " he said quietly, his voice losing its usual boldness.
He reached out to touch her his hand trembling in the air in front of him awkwardly for a moment before he withdrew.
Elora looked up confused, Why was he asking about her injury? Isn't he here to give her the punishment?
Her fingers skimmed across the soft bruise on her arm and a small laugh left her lips
" oh this? don't worry about it. It'll heal in a short while " she said flippantly.
It was weird to see someone concerned about her, especially someone like the wolf king.
But it seemed like her answer only made things worse.
She watched with her heart in her mouth as his eyes slowly changed from the melting silver to a blood red.
A low growl escaped his lips and the pressure in the room immediately turned colder.
Her hands clutched her skirt tightly as fear gripped her.
Azazeal closed his eyes, fighting hard to control his wolf who couldn't stand that his mate was hurt.
Acting on his possessive urge won't solve anything at the moment.
" I'll be back in a minute, " he growled turning to leave the room before she could reply.
Elora blinked at the blank space in front of her
He was back in a minute like he had promised.
This time, he held a cold towel and a balm he had gotten from the royal healer.
Azazeal pulled a chair across the room without effort the wood screeched against the floors and she flinched. He gestured for her to sit on her bed and she pulls her robe tightly around her. Soft pads of her feet echoed against the floors as she makes her way over to where he sat her movements stiff and wary.
Even as he sat in front of her, he still towered above her body
He carefully wrapped the cold towel he had retrieved around her wrist. His grip was firm but gentle, his big pale hands contrasting against her tiny, fragile wrist.
"You bruise like a peach," his deep raspy voice broke the silence as he applied a soothing balm on the reddened skin.
Elora was quiet as she studied him without making a sound.
His eyes were back to it's stormy grey and she stared fascinated by the change in him, he had looked so stern and dangerous earlier.
But now he is calm and indifferent.
Like he is two different people.
Unlike his younger brother, Kael who had been the warm and playful
Azazeal was the opposite — cold like a midnight storm that rumbled in anger.
He was quite intimidating, his presence emanating power even when relaxed.
No wonder he's the High King of the wolves.
Azazeal caught her eye, and her heart stuttered. She looked up only briefly, immediately averting her gaze when she saw him, biting her lower lip and concentrating on the swirls in the soft carpet beneath her feet.
"I have something to propose, may I?" she suddenly blurted.
Azazeal nodded eager to know what he was thinking.
"Our marriage should be a marriage of convenience, I'll be the perfect wife, I won't get in your way,"
Her crystal eyes turned firmer as she spoke
" And you will barely know that I exist. "