The room was bathed in the soft orange-pink hues of a dying fire. Shadows danced across the velvet walls, flickering like silent witnesses to the unraveling of something that had once been sacred.
Azrael faced Eva. There was a look in her eyes—guilt, conflict, something broken and beautiful all at once.
Eva stood frozen like a statue. Azrael's confession shook her to her very core.
“I’m mated to him, Eva.” Azrael’s voice cracked softly. “To Draven.”
The silence between them was deafening. Even the fire seemed to flicker a little less.
Eva’s expression shifted slowly—shock, confusion, then something sharper. Her platinum-blonde hair stirred faintly at the tips, like the whisper of wind in tall grass.
“When—how did this happen, Azrael?” Her voice was tight, barely restrained. “What do you mean you mated with a Lycan?” Her voice cracked with disbelief. “Have you gone mad?”
Azrael stepped forward. “Eva, I didn’t choose this. It just… happened. This is fate.”
“Fate my foot!” Eva snapped, taking a sharp step back. Her hair flared slightly, reacting to the spike of her emotions—wispy tendrils floating like they were underwater. “Have you truly forgotten everything that’s happened? Why the Great War started in the first place? Why our races hate each other?”
Her voice trembled now, tears catching in her throat.
“They slaughtered your mother, Azrael. For no reason. And here you are, mated to one of those animals!”
“Eva,” Azrael said softly, reaching out. “That’s… not exactly what happened. Please, let me explain. There’s a lot you don’t understand.”
But Eva flinched away from her touch like it burned.
“I understand plenty.” Her voice was quieter now, but far more dangerous. “You’ve betrayed your kind, Azrael. Do you know what the court will do to you if—when—they find out?”
Azrael’s mouth opened, but she couldn’t speak.
Eva’s voice dropped into a deadly whisper. “A fate worse than death.”
She stepped forward, her face inches from Azrael’s.
“You will cry. And you will beg. But you’ll never get that sweet relief.”
Azrael recoiled, her brows furrowed, heart clenching at the cruelty in Eva’s words. “How could you say that to me?”
Eva let out a laugh—low and bitter. Her hair, usually calm and moonlike, twisted in erratic, angry tendrils around her face.
“You know…” she said with a shake of her head. “It would’ve been better if you chose one of those smug vampire lords. Even Seraphim. That would’ve hurt—but I would’ve gotten over it eventually.”
She looked at Azrael with such naked pain it almost made her flinch.
“But a lycan, Azrael?” Her voice broke into disgust. “Shame on you. You’ve dishonored your mother. Your family. Your kingdom. Our race.”
Azrael’s chest tightened. Something about that hurt more than any threat.
“…Why would it hurt you who I chose to love?” she asked slowly. “Why would that even matter to you?”
Eva froze.
Her eyes flickered. Her hair paused mid-movement.
“…Never mind that. It’s not important.”
“No.” Azrael stepped closer now. “It is. I know you’re angry right now, Eva. I know. But we need to talk about this. We’re—” her voice faltered—“we’re like sisters.”
Eva suddenly turned on her, eyes blazing.
“When will you get it, Azrael?” she snapped. “I don’t want you to see me as your sister!”
Azrael blinked, stunned. “What?”
“All these years,” Eva said, pacing now, her voice rising. Her silver hair rippled behind her like a living flame—sharp, defiant, emotional. “I’ve been by your side. Kept your secrets. Protected you. Held you when you cried. Fought for you. Bled for you.”
She turned around again, tears now glimmering in her eyes, furious and raw.
“I’ve given you everything, Azrael. My loyalty. My soul. My heart. And all I ever got in return was ‘you’re like the sister I never had.’”
Azrael took a step back. “Eva… what do you mean?”
Eva let out a choked laugh, bitter and fragile. “You still don’t get it, do you?”
Her hands trembled now. The fire in the hearth crackled like it too was holding its breath.
Azrael stood frozen, her chest tight, unable to form words.
Eva’s voice dropped again. A whisper wrapped in heartbreak.
“Even after what you’ve done… I still love you.”
Azrael’s lips parted. Her brows pulled together in confusion and something else—fear.
“But you’ve never once loved me back,” Eva whispered.
“Eva…” Azrael stepped forward slowly. “That’s not true. I love you, and I always will. You’re the sister I never had. You’re everything to me. I don’t know what I’d do without—”
Eva cut her off with a sharp exhale. “Stop.”
She closed the distance between them in two fast steps.
“That’s not how I love you, Azrael,” she said. Her voice was trembling now. “Not like that.”
Her fingers reached up and lightly brushed Azrael’s jaw.
Then she stepped even closer and whispered—
“Like this.”
And before Azrael could say a word, Eva leaned in and kissed her.