To Bewitch a Devil

219 Caught

“Zavian sent you over,” Azriel stated as she opened up the salve, the smell of strong spice- one that reminded Freya of battles and wounded soldiers- was tapered down with something perfumey mixed in it.

“Apparently, you need my help,” Freya said.

“I told him I could handle it,” Azriel insisted. “Just needed to sort through all those stacks of records first.”

He closed his eyes as Freya applied the salve, and the cooling effect was already in itself a healing touch.

“He wanted you out of the castle,” Azriel stated.

“And I could do with anywhere around him,” Freya said. She evened out the salve on his skin as she spoke. “He’s a different person now. I almost cannot recognize him anymore. And don’t you dare say it is love,” she quickly shushed Azriel as he opened his mouth to speak. “That maid might be a demon but she’s evil. Love cannot make you blind to that extent, especially for a King.”

Azriel hissed as Freya used the heel of the palm to give his back a rub. “You can be mad but not on my wound.” He turned round to face her, and she grew uncomfortable with his direct gaze.

“What is it?” She snapped when she couldn’t take it anymore.

“You really care about him,” Azriel said.

.....

Freya rolled her eyes. “I just think I would be a better demon to rule.”

Azriel chuckled. “Neera might just be dealing with some trauma.”

“And from where did you hear that?”

“It is what I believe,” Azriel said. “Not one of us can know what it is for humans to transition into demons, and her experience might have altered something in her in the process. So I am with Zavian on giving her time to heal.”

“And what if she doesn’t? What if she kills any one of us like she killed Jasmine?”

“Come on, Freya, now you sound like you are the one losing your mind,” Azriel said.

“I am serious,” Freya hissed and scooted closer to him. “I think she killed Jasmine, and I have a feeling she wants to kill me next…”

“…Freya…”

“…I am the one openly against her, seeing her for who she is…”

“Freya!” It was Azriel’s commanding tone, and that was enough to stop Freya’s words from continuous spillage.

He placed a hand on hers. “Stop it. Now you are being too much. There is a line between caring for Zavian and painting Neera out to have some hidden vendetta.”

“You didn’t even want them to wed,” Freya said.

“Zavian is my best friend, and if that is what makes him happy eventually, then it makes me happy as well,” Azriel said. “And besides, we should get to sparring practice soon. You would combust with all those…”

The knock came once, and the door opened. Azriel saw the dark hair before he saw the face. Penelope’s face was as radiant as the afternoon sun’s beams reflecting on every shiny surface of his room, but the minute she spotted Freya, it blotted out, like a fire doused by water.

“Pen…”

But Azriel saw where her eyes were trained, jumping from his hand on Freya’s, his bare torso, Freya’s face, and back to his.

“Excuse me…I didn’t know you had a guest…”

“Pen, look…”

“I will come back,” she said quickly, and was out of the room in a second.

Azriel rose from the bed, rushed to the door, and peeked out. When he realized she was gone, he retreated back inside and fisted his hands, looking like he needed to hit something.

In her head, Freya had already put the stitches of the whole scenario that happened before her to form a tapestry of meaning, and it made her sick in the stomach.

“You and that maid?” Freya snarled as she rose from the bed. “Isn’t that Neera’s friend? What is wrong with you and Zavian?”

“Freya, look, not now,” Azriel said defeatedly. He picked up the torn shirt on his bed and donned it anyways.

“Not now?” Freya was bewildered. “You are a rake but I always thought you had some class with it. No wonder you were on Zavian’s side. You both are the same…”

“…Freya…,” her name rang with a warning from him.

“…and you won’t believe this is not some grand scheme? Get the two most powerful demons to fall for them? Don’t you see what is happening here?” Freya practically screamed as Azriel reached for the door. “Stop and see! It all makes sense now, the soul eaters, the...”

It took one firm hand on her throat to silence the rest of her words. The vein on Azriel’s jaw ticked dangerously, and she could see the red clouding his vision. She had riled him up that fast because of a woman, the rake that would change women like he changed his weapons.

“You have a really runny mouth, Freya, and I don’t like it,” Azriel said. He loosened his grip around her, and she backed away, her glare capable of roasting him. “I am going to find her, and I will bring her in here. And you would explain what was going on.”

A corner of Freya’s lip tilted into a sardonic smile. “How further low would you stoop.”

“Why did you even come in here?” Azriel rubbed a hand on his face. “The study or the library was available, you could have just gone there.”

“Why? Afraid I would have ruined your reputation?”

“Stay here, and I will be back,” he ordered her. Freya moved to sit on the bed and kept her arms folded without saying a word. Not knowing if that was a good or a bad sign, and not waiting to find out, Azriel hurried out of his chambers.

He moved at a maddening speed, asking the maids for Penelope’s whereabouts. The guards were of little help, each of them pointing in different directions. He tried to find her scent, but it led everywhere. So he searched the building, combed every room, but still couldn’t find her.