Chapter 98 My lady has me on choke mood
Eryx:
“How long would you be gone?" I asked, my voice barely stronger than breath.
“Baby, it's just for a while… okay? I have something to do,” Nyxara murmured, kissing me slow and deep, like she was trying to leave warmth behind in case I forgot how it felt.
That was a week ago.
Seven nights.
And I still taste her when I close my eyes.
I still feel the press of her mouth, the way her fingers curled lightly into my shirt like she almost didn’t want to let go. I replay it so often the memory has begun to blur at the edges, and that terrifies me more than her absence.
“Are you okay?” Azrael asked, sliding the coffee toward me.
The steam curled upward. I stared at it too long.
“Uhm… yes. Just—”
“Missing our wife?”
I nodded.
Wife.
I still wasn’t used to that word. It felt sacred. Heavy. Like something I didn’t deserve but had been gifted anyway.
And now she’s gone.
“For a while,” she said.
My body hasn’t been right since.
Sleep won’t stay with me. I wake in the middle of the night reaching for her, fingers grasping cold sheets. My chest burns sometimes — not pain, not exactly — but a tightness that spreads when I think about her being somewhere I cannot reach.
Even my wolf is restless.
He paces under my skin, agitated, as if he can sense the distance like a wound. Food tastes dull. Coffee tastes like ash. I’ve had a low heat behind my eyes for days, like a fever that won’t break. The pack healer says I’m fine.
I’m not.
I’m bonded.
Every room feels wrong without her in it. The house echoes. The bed feels too large. The air feels thinner.
Azrael watched me carefully. “You look like hell.”
“She said it wouldn’t be long,” I muttered.
But what is long when you’ve only just learned what it feels like to belong to someone?
I press my thumb to my lips sometimes without realizing it.
Because that was the last place she touched before she walked away.
And I don’t know if it’s love making me ache like this…
Or something deeper.
Something that ties my pulse to hers, even from miles away.
I quickly grabbed my phone, my hands already shaking as I searched for her name. I needed to hear her voice. Just once. Just to know she was still there.
Azrael caught my wrist before I could press call.
“She’s working. Tone it down and be patient for her.” His eyes narrowed as he leaned closer, his palm pressing to my forehead.
He went still.
“You’re burning…”
“I’m okay,” I insisted, though my vision blurred slightly when I tried to focus on him.
His jaw tightened. “How much do you miss her?”
The question broke something in me.
I swallowed hard, but the words clawed their way out anyway.
“So much, Az. I miss her so much… fuck! It hurts!”
My chest seized as if invisible fingers had wrapped around my heart and squeezed. Heat rolled through me in waves — not normal heat, not sickness. It felt like my blood was running too fast, like my body was trying to chase something it couldn’t reach.
“I wake up reaching for her,” I admitted, my voice cracking despite myself. “I swear I can still smell her on the pillows. And when it fades, it feels like something is being ripped out of me.”
Azrael didn’t speak.
“My wolf won’t settle,” I continued, dragging a hand through my hair. “He keeps pacing. Like she’s too far. Like we’re… unbalanced.”
Another wave of heat crashed over me and I braced myself against the table.
“It feels like withdrawal,” I whispered hoarsely. “Like my body got used to her and now it doesn’t know how to function without her.”
I laughed weakly, but it sounded nothing like humor.
“She kissed me and told me it wouldn’t be long,” I said, staring at nothing. “And I believed her. I’d believe her if she told me the sky was falling.”
My fingers curled into fists.
“I don’t care how pathetic it sounds,” I breathed. “If she walked through that door right now, I’d fall to my knees.”
The heat behind my eyes burned hotter.
“I just need her back, Az.”
And for the first time since she left, my voice broke completely.
“Because I don’t think I’m okay without her.”
“Look at me, Eryz. Look…”
I lifted my head, and the world tilted.
Azrael’s features blurred, melted, reformed. In the space of a heartbeat, it was Nyxara staring back at me.
Long purple hair cascaded in heavy waves down her back and over her shoulders, the deep violet strands catching faint light like spilled wine. Her skin was rich, dark tan—warm earth under summer sun, glowing with that inner heat I’d traced with my tongue a hundred times. And those eyes… deep amethyst, luminous, framed by thick dark lashes that always fluttered when she was trying to hide how much she wanted something.
Every detail was exact.
The soft slope from throat to collarbone I’d kissed until she shivered. The gentle rise of full breasts that fit my hands like they were made for them. The faint silver scar curving low along her left hip—the one she’d laughed about once, calling it her badge of surviving worse than anything life could throw. Even the subtle sheen across her collarbones, the way fine dark hairs caught the light along her forearms, turning almost silver in places.
My lungs seized.
This body—Azrael wearing her shape—tilted her head the way she always did when she was about to tease me mercilessly. Purple strands shifted, brushing bare shoulders.
“You said you missed me,” the voice came layered: Azrael’s deep rumble woven beneath Nyxara’s velvet-smooth murmur, impossible to pull apart.
I shook my head once, sharp. “You’re not her.”
“Does it matter?” He stepped closer. Her scent crashed into me—jasmine petals warmed against dark skin, rain-damp hair, that faint copper-sweet edge that bloomed whenever she was already aching for me. My mouth flooded with saliva before I could stop it. “We’re married, beta. The three of us. Bound. Blood, soul, and knot. What’s a little shape-shifting between mates?”
My fingertips twitched, restless.
He lifted one of her hands—long fingers, dark nails—and trailed it slowly down the center of that familiar chest. Dark nipples pebbled instantly under the touch; a tiny shiver raced across rich tan skin exactly the way it did when I grazed her there.
“Come on,” he whispered, voice dropping to that breathy, needy register she used when she was already half-gone. “Come touch me. Check if I’m real.”
I moved before my brain could catch up.
My palm pressed to the center of her chest—warm, alive, heartbeat slamming beneath the skin, fast and hungry. I spread my fingers wider, greedy, chasing that rhythm I’d memorized against my ear every night since the bond snapped into place. It matched. Perfectly.
A small, startled sound slipped from her throat—hers, soft and surprised—and my cock jerked so hard I hissed between clenched teeth.
“See?” Azrael murmured, guiding my hand lower. Over the dip of her waist, the soft generous curve of her belly I loved kissing open-mouthed until she squirmed. Lower. My fingertips brushed slick, swollen folds and I groaned like I’d taken a fist to the gut.
She was soaked.
Hot, slippery arousal coated my fingers the second they parted her. The scent sharpened—sweet musk, salt, pure want—and my wolf shoved forward so violently my vision flashed gold.
“Fuck,” I breathed.
“Exactly,” he said, rocking forward so my fingers sank deeper. Tight inner walls fluttered, greedy, sucking at me the way she always did when she was desperate. “She’s been aching for you too. Even if it’s me wearing her right now… this body remembers. Every time you’ve fucked her. Every time you’ve made her come screaming your name.”
He reached between us, clever fingers wrapping around my cock through the fabric. I bucked into the touch before I could stop myself.
“Feel that?” he purred. “How hard you are just from her scent? From feeling how wet this cunt still gets for you?”
My free hand shot out, fisting in long purple hair, yanking her head back so I could see those eyes. They weren’t quite right—pupils slit too wide, edged with faint crimson incubus glow—but the shape, the heavy lashes, the way they fluttered half-shut when I pulled… those were hers.
I kissed him.
Hard. Messy. Teeth clacking, tongue shoving deep like I could taste the lie. He moaned into my mouth—her moan, high and wrecked—and his hips rolled forward, grinding soaked heat against my thigh.
I broke away gasping. “On your knees.”
He dropped instantly, graceful, knees meeting the floor with a soft sound. Dark hands worked my pants open with practiced ease—her hands, her nails scraping lightly down my hips the way she loved. My cock sprang free, already leaking, flushed dark and throbbing.
“Look at you,” he breathed, voice pure Nyxara now, soft with wonder. “So hard for me. Even knowing it’s not really me.”
“Shut up,” I growled, but the words held no bite. Only raw hunger.
He leaned in and dragged a slow, wet tongue from base to tip. I groaned loud enough the sound bounced back. Then he took me in—warm, perfect suction, tongue curling under the head exactly like she did when she wanted me undone. The roof of her mouth dragged along the sensitive ridge; I felt the faint deliberate scrape of teeth she always teased me with.
My hands buried in thick purple hair, hips jerking forward on instinct. He hummed approval around my length, the vibration shooting straight to my balls. One hand cupped me, rolling gently, while the other slid between his own thighs—fingers disappearing into slick heat with a wet, obscene sound.
I watched, helpless, as he fucked himself on his fingers in perfect rhythm with his mouth on me. The sight—her dark body arched, cheeks hollowed, purple hair spilling everywhere, thighs trembling—was too much.
“Stop,” I rasped. “Stop or I’ll—”
He pulled off with a wet pop, lips swollen and glossy. “You’ll what, beta? Come down my throat like you do hers? Or do you want something else?”
I hauled him up by the arms—too rough, too desperate—and spun him around. Bent him over the nearest surface, chest pressed flat, ass presented. That perfect generous curve, the dimples at the base of her spine I’d kissed until she begged.
I kicked his feet wider. Notched myself at the entrance and pushed in one long, relentless slide.
Tight. Hot. Drenched. Walls clamped down like a fist and I nearly blacked out from how good it felt.
He cried out—her voice, broken and sweet—and shoved back to meet me, taking every inch. My hips snapped forward, burying to the root. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the air, filthy and loud.
I fucked him like I was trying to crawl inside and never leave.
Each thrust pulled a new sound from that throat—gasps, whimpers, half-formed pleas that sounded exactly like Nyxara when she was close. My hand slid around, found the swollen clit and circled it the way she liked—firm, steady pressure, never too fast.
“Tell me,” I growled against the nape of her neck, teeth grazing dark skin. “Tell me what she’d say right now.”
He laughed breathlessly, then moaned when I ground deep and stayed there, rolling my hips in tight circles. “She’d—ah—she’d say your name. Over and over. Like a prayer. Eryz… Eryz… please…”
I lost it.
My thrusts turned brutal, possessive. The surface creaked under us. His—her—body shook, inner muscles fluttering wildly. I pinched the clit between thumb and finger, tugged lightly, and he shattered.
The cry that tore out was hers—high, keening, broken on my name. Walls pulsed around me in hard, rhythmic waves, milking, dragging me under.
I came with a snarl, hips locked flush, spilling deep inside that familiar heat. Pulse after pulse until I was empty, trembling, forehead pressed between shoulder blades that smelled like rain and jasmine.
We stayed locked together, breathing ragged.
After a long minute he—Azrael—spoke, voice soft, still wearing her timbre.
“She’ll be back soon, beta. And when she is… we’ll both be here. Waiting.”
I closed my eyes.
Pressed one last kiss to the back of that neck.