Chapter 132 My Angel | 025
NOELLE
Azren leans in and rests his head on my shoulder, his dark hair tickling the side of my neck. He's not asleep yet, but he's close. I can tell.
I lift my hand without thinking and thread my fingers through his hair, stroking gently behind his ear. He lets out a low, contented sound that vibrates against my collarbone.
Kaziel watches us from across the desk, his expression gentle.
"The new order," he says, his voice low enough not to disturb the fragile peace settling over Azren, "isn't just hunters or dark packs. They're linked to the Underworld. They believe that Azren is the key to accessing the kind of power most of us have only ever read about in forbidden grimoires. Powers that could let them tear the veil wide open and weaponize what comes through."
Azren's fingers flex against my thigh.
He shrugs without lifting his head. "Let them try."
His voice is thick and laced with amusement. As if the idea of being hunted is just another mildly entertaining inconvenience.
Kaziel's lips twitch. "I knew you'd say that."
Azren's head shifts slightly, nuzzling deeper into the crook of my neck. "Does Mum know?" he mumbles.
Kaziel exhales. "No. I kept it from her. She already worries too much about you."
Azren lets out a dry, sleepy sigh. "Good. She'd try to lock me in a tower or something equally dramatic."
He closes his eyes.
I keep stroking his hair, slowly. His breathing deepens, the tension bleeding out of him.
"There will be regular meetings happening here for the time being. Azren, you can't—" Kaziel cuts himself off.
"Azren?" I whisper, but he doesn't respond.
He's asleep.
Kaziel watches his son with a tender look in his eyes. He leans back in his chair, letting out a sigh.
"He's actually sleeping," he says, his voice laced with relief.
I nod, my throat tight. "He told me... it's been eight years. He hasn't slept properly in eight years."
Kaziel's gaze drops to Azren's face.
"He'll go through phases like this," he tells me. "His body is only catching up on what it was deprived of. The slumbering phase will pass. He'll eventually become sharper and stronger... hell, he's already dangerous enough. But for now, he needs this. He needs rest."
I swallow hard. "How did he endure it? Not sleeping. For so long."
Kaziel's smile is small and almost shy.
"I've been seeing his doctor," he replies. "For years."
My stomach twists at her name, but I keep my face still.
"She's been injecting him with fragments of my core," he continues. "Small doses. Tribrid essence—my essence. It's not a cure. But it kept him walking. It kept him breathing."
I stare at him.
"You've been doing that? Without him knowing?"
Kaziel shrugs. "It was the least I could do. After everything I..."
He looks down at his hands. "It might hurt him in the long run. I don't know. The Underworld doesn't play nice with rules. But I couldn't watch my son tear himself apart and do nothing."
Azren shifts in his sleep, groaning against my neck.
I press my lips to the top of his head.
Kaziel watches us closely.
"He's safe with you," he rasps. "More than he's ever been. Whatever comes next, keep reminding him he's allowed to rest. And that he's allowed to be... happy."
I nod, tears prickling my eyes.
"I will," I whisper.
Kaziel rises slowly.
"I'll let you two be," he says. "But if you ever need me—either of you—my door is open. Always. Come downstairs for dinner when he wakes up. I think he fell asleep because I bored him to death."
He pauses at the door, glancing back one last time.
"Tell him I love him," he adds softly. "When he's ready to hear it."
Then he's gone.
I sit there holding Azren while he sleeps, his breath warm against my skin.
The flame mark on my wrist pulses, and I close my eyes. Whatever is coming, whatever this "new order" wants with Azren, whatever Sabrina is still hiding...
We'll face it together.
Azren jolts awake with a sharp inhale, his whole body tensing against mine as though someone just dumped ice water on him.
He blinks rapidly, his eyes wide and clear. The manic sparkle is gone, replaced by alertness.
"Where—?" His voice is rough, still thick with sleep, but the slur is gone. He looks around the study like he's trying to piece together how he got here.
I slide my hand up to cup his cheek. "You're okay," I whisper. "You fell asleep on me for... a little while."
He stares at me for a long second, processing. Then his gaze lands on the empty chair where Kaziel had been sitting. His brows knit together.
"My dad," he says slowly. "He was here."
I nod. "He talked to us. About the new order. The Underworld connection. How they think you're the key to accessing dark powers."
Azren's jaw tightens, but he doesn't pull away. His hand finds mine again, his fingers lacing through automatically.
"What else?" he asks.
I hesitate. "He said they'll be having meetings here often. To stay current on developments."
Azren exhales through his nose.
"Of course he did." He rubs his free hand over his face.
He's quiet for a moment. Then his eyes find mine again, searching.
"You stayed," he says softly. "Even when I crashed like that."
I flash him a smile. "You were snoring. It was cute."
He snorts. "I don't snore."
"You do. Little ones. Like a kitten," I tease.
He narrows his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches.
Then our stomachs rumble at the exact same moment, perfectly synchronized.
We freeze.
Then we both burst out laughing.
Azren's laugh is deeper, still a little hoarse from sleep, but it's the first time I've heard him laugh without that unhinged tone. It's just... him.
He drops his forehead to mine, still chuckling. "Gods, I'm starving."
"Me too," I admit, my cheeks heating up. "I haven't eaten properly since... well, breakfast with Jake and Levi."
Azren winces. "Shit. I'm sorry, Angel. I should've fed you hours ago. You must be starving."
His hands slide to my waist. There's real guilt in his eyes.
"I'm okay," I say quickly. "Really."
"Come on," he says, rising and pulling me up with him. "Dinner should be ready. Mum never lets anyone leave this house hungry."
He keeps my hand in his as we head downstairs. The smell hits us before we even reach the dining room—roasted meat, chicken, garlic, fresh bread, something sweet like caramelized onions. My mouth waters instantly.
But under the hunger, that old familiar whisper creeps in.
'You'll feel heavy, bloated and ugly.'
I swallow it down hard. Azren feels me tense. His thumb strokes the back of my hand.
"Take your time," he murmurs, just for me.
I nod stiffly.
The moment we enter the dining room, Danika looks up from setting a plate and beams at us.
"Perfect timing! Come sit, both of you,” she urges.
Azren pulls out a chair for me first, then he drops into the one beside me.
The family is already settling in. It really feels like I’m home. Kaziel is at the head of the table, with Danika beside him. He meets Azren's eyes for a brief second and nods in acknowledgement. Azren nods back, but it isn't hostile.
Danika claps her hands. "Let's eat before it gets cold!"
Plates start passing. Food starts piling up.
My stomach growls again, loud enough that Levi snorts from across the table.
"Someone's starving," he teases.
Azren shoots him a lazy glare.
The dining room doors swing open just then. Sabrina walks in. Her hair is down now, loose waves framing her face, and she's swapped the clinical look for something softer: a cream sweater, dark jeans, and boots. She looks less like a doctor and more like she belongs here.
Danika's smile falters for a moment before she recovers.
"Sabrina, darling," she says, her voice warm but careful. "I didn't know you were joining us tonight."
Sabrina offers her a small, apologetic smile, her hands clasped in front of her as if she's trying to look harmless.
"I hope it's not an imposition," she says softly. "I just... wanted to make sure Azren doesn't lose control. He skipped his dose earlier. I know how quickly things can spiral when he's unmedicated."
Her eyes linger on Azren, tender. It makes me want to barf.
Azren's fork pauses halfway to his mouth. He sets it down slowly.
"I told you I'm fine," he says.
Sabrina doesn't flinch.
"I know," she replies gently. "But I also know you. And I know how fast the cold can come back. The voices. The blackouts. I'd rather be here and unnecessary than miles away and too late."
She looks at Danika again with a pleading gaze.
Danika hesitates, glancing at her son.
He's staring at Sabrina like he's trying to see through her. Then he exhales through his nose.
"Sit," he says flatly.
The moment she drops down into the chair directly opposite me, the hair on the back of my neck prickles. I don’t like this at all, so I keep my gaze on my plate.
“Let’s play a game, little human,” she says, and my head snaps up.
All of the chattering has ceased, and time seems to have frozen. Sabrina and I are the only ones who are conscious and aware. Blood runs cold in my veins.
“What are you doing?” I hiss, and she props her chin on her palm, her elbow on the table.
“This game is called the blame game,” she says. Then she winks at me.