A little tipsy

When she reached his side, Azrael pulled her up in one swift motion if she weighed nothing. His voice was a sharp command. "Cover yourself properly," his eyes flicked between her drenched clothes and his cloak.

She didn't move.

Azrael's jaw tightened, the sharpness in his gaze unmistakable. "If you fall sick out here in the middle of the forest, I'll leave you behind without a second thought."

The bite in his words made her chest tighten, but Lareina pursed her lips and finally wrapped the cloak around herself while he carried her, her movements stiff with resentment. You're the one who dragged me out here and you even… she let her thoughts trail off, her face heating at the memory of what transpired between them on that horse.

Azrael's stride was relentless as he carried her, cutting through the forest imposingly. Lareina stayed silent, though every jostle of his arms stirred her annoyance—and his tongue, it seemed, was sharper than his blade.

"Why are you so light?" His voice carried through the trees, laced with disdain.

She bit her tongue, refusing to answer.

"Haven't you been eating all these years? You're so frail, I could snap you in half with one hand."

Her face altered between black and blue. She wanted to ask him why he must think of harming her in every word he uttered.

Azrael's lips twitched, catching the look in her eyes. "What? Got something to say?"

She met his gaze with a glare but said nothing, mindful of the darkness that surrounded them. He might just follow through on his threats and abandon her here.

Azrael took her to the cave they had been to before and by the time they reached there, Lareina's muscles ached from tension, and her legs trembled when he finally set her down. The cold air inside pricked her skin, and she instinctively crossed her arms, trying to ward off the creeping chill.

"Are you still scared?" Azrael's voice was quieter now, his hand brushing over her shoulder.

The darkness of the cave seemed to press in around her, suffocating and vast. When Azrael turned to walk away, she instinctively grabbed his arm, clutching onto him tightly.

Azrael froze, the hard lines of his face softening for a moment. He slid her hand down to his and intertwined their fingers, his touch steady and firm as he led her deeper into the cave. A single candle flared to life, its golden light chasing away the shadows and bringing forth the sight of the beautiful room inside.

"Those were just wild beasts," he said, his voice measured but edged with something unreadable. "Nothing more than that. You don't need to be afraid."

Lareina's voice came out in a whisper. "Why did they appear so suddenly…'' she looked at her hands, ''And how did I…?"

Azrael's hand tightened around hers, cutting her off. "I slayed them all," he said firmly. "Until we figure things out, no one gets to know what happened. Do you understand me?"

Lareina nodded. She could still remember that flash of pain and power in her body very vividly however he looked at her like it never happened.

When she had first arrived in the demon realm, the place was in chaos but even then, he had been sitting by himself, just this indifferent. As if she was not abnormal at all. As if it was a daily occurrence for him to see a human princess in his realm.

And even now, he looked the same. She did not know what purpose he had in saying these things but something about his aloof gaze calmed her nerves down. If he was this calm, then maybe her actions were not abnormal, it should be something related to her living in the demon realm.

Her thoughts scattered as a sneeze tore from her.

Azrael turned sharply, his palm pressing against her forehead. "Too cold," he muttered, his brows knitting together. "Your body feels warmer usually."

Before she could protest, he began pacing the room, his commanding presence making the cavernous space feel cramped. She watched as he disappeared into the shadows and returned moments later with a delicate golden glass and a bottle in hand.

"This is ordinary wine for demons, but it should warm you up," he said, pouring the dark liquid into the glass.

When she hesitated, he grabbed her hand, his grip firm as he thrust the glass into it. "Drink. Or do you think I'd waste my time poisoning you?"

Her lips trembled as she whispered, "It's not impossible."

His expression darkened, and for a moment, she thought he might hurl the glass across the room. Instead, his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Don't test me."

She raised the glass to her lips, the sour-sweet taste biting her tongue as it slid down her throat, leaving a trail of warmth that spread through her frozen body.

As he watched her complexion improve, Azrael didn't wait for her to finish before pouring another. "More," he demanded, his sharp tone softened by the faintest hint of concern.

"Why are you so delicate?" he muttered, almost to himself. "You've been fragile since the moment I saw you. It's a miracle you've survived this long."

Her vision blurred as the warmth of the wine and his words settled over her. Her voice was quiet but cutting as she asked, "Why do you care?"

Azrael froze, his hand hovering over the bottle. The room seemed to grow colder despite the heat rising in her cheeks.

For a moment, he said nothing, and Lareina felt her heart tighten in the silence, ''Why do you care at all?" she walked towards him, unaware of where her determination suddenly emerged from. Her eyes were a little unfocused and her fingers were shaky as she reached towards his face, ''All you want is to get rid of me…''

''Shut up!" he grabbed her wrist and yanked her close. His hand guided her palm to his chest, ''You are delusional. I have spent four years in the brutality of that never-ending war and you have been everything that I have longed for.'' You are the reason that made me want to come back from the war.

Azrael's jaw ticked when she regarded him with a flitting smile, something that made her mockery obvious.