Chapter 10— Shifting Tides.

Azazel pov.

I sat at the very edge of Eldermire's tallest tower, the wind howling around me like a restless beast. Below, the entire school stretched out, its towering gothic spires clawing at the sky, but up here, I was untouchable hidden in the shadows, drinking away the fury burning through my veins.

The whiskey burned down my throat, but it was nothing compared to the fire in my chest. My grip tightened around the glass, the liquor sloshing against the rim as I tipped it back. She didn't even fight him. Raphael had grabbed her dragged her out of that goddamn office and Mirabel hadn't said a single word. Not a glare. Not a scoff. Not a fucking thing.

And yet, she was the defiant one. Sharp-tongued. Sharp-witted. Sharp like a blade that had sliced right into me the moment I laid eyes on her. Mine. She just didn't know it yet.

I let out a low chuckle, licking the last drop of whiskey from my lips as I leaned back, arms spread over the ledge. I recognized her. The very first day. That voice. That mouth. Those fucking eyes. I knew them. I knew her.

But that wasn't possible.

Except it was.

Because this wasn't the first time I had wanted her.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but the memory came like a curse, drowning me in the past I had sworn never to relive. The war. The fire. The blood. And her. My beautiful, treacherous angel, standing between me and Raphael, her lips parting in a whisper of my name. Azazel.

I had flown toward her with everything I had, wings slicing through the air, desperate so fucking desperate to reach her first. But Raphael was faster. Stronger. Crueler.

I saw the blade before I saw the blood.

Her body fragile, breakable, perfect curled into him as his sword plunged through her stomach.

And then she was gone.

Ripped from my grasp before I ever had the chance to claim her. Before I could press my lips to hers and make her mine.

And the bastard who took her life… was the same one dragging Mirabel away now.

Raphael.

I bared my teeth, the glass in my hand shattering with the force of my grip. I barely felt the sting, watching as blood dripped from my palm, mixing with the spilled whiskey at my feet.

Not this time.

I pushed off the ledge, my body weightless as I floated above the school, wings stretching from my back in slow, deliberate movements. The wind curled around me, eager to obey. This time, destiny won't steal from me.

Mirabel wouldn't make the same mistake.

She wouldn't love him. She wouldn't die for him. She wouldn't fucking belong to him.

Because I wouldn't let her.

I would tear the world apart first. I would set it ablaze and laugh as the flames devoured everything in their path. By force. By fire. By fucking fate itself.

I grinned, licking a drop of blood from my finger, my tongue dragging slow over the wound.

She would be mine.

Mine to ruin.

Mine to have.

Mine to break.

And when I claimed her this time..there would be no escape.

"You're getting sloppy."

Daniel's voice cut through the silence, smooth and laced with that ever-present amusement, but I didn't turn to look at him. I already knew how he'd look shoulders lazy, hands in his pockets, smirking like he knew every thought crawling through my head. Because he did.

I flexed my fingers, watching as the last drop of blood disappeared from my skin. No wound. No scar. Just like every other time. Flesh heals. Hate doesn't.

"You always did have a habit of bleeding for what you can't have," he mused, stepping forward, his eyes flicking to the shattered glass at my feet.

I let out a low laugh, rolling my neck. "And you always had a habit of showing up when you're not fucking wanted."

Daniel smirked. "I knew you'd be here."

Of course, he did.

I exhaled, tilting my head just enough to meet his gaze. "Come to lecture me?"

"I'd call it friendly advice," he shrugged. "But I doubt you'd take it that way."

I arched a brow, waiting.

His smirk faded, and for the first time tonight, the amusement in his eyes dimmed. "Don't do anything stupid, Azazel."

I grinned. "Define stupid."

Daniel gave me a flat look. "Stupid is you thinking you can take her. Stupid is you pretending fate doesn't exist just because you don't like how it played out last time."

My fingers twitched. "Fate can be rewritten."

Daniel sighed. "You don't even know if it's her."

I did. I fucking knew.

She wasn't just some girl. Some pretty thing with a sharp mouth and a defiant gaze. She wasn't just another conquest to distract me from the rot in my soul.

She was her.

And this time, I wouldn't let Raphael get to her first.

Daniel must have seen something shift in my expression because he sighed again, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I get it. But if you do this...."

"I am doing this."

He exhaled sharply. "Then at least don't be reckless. Mirabel isn't the same girl from before. She doesn't remember. She doesn't know you. If you fuck this up..."

"I won't."

Silence stretched between us.

Daniel's jaw tensed, but he didn't push further. He just shook his head, muttering something under his breath.

Then, a voice cut through our thoughts.

Hazel.

Her tone was sharp, clipped with authority. Administrators' office. Now.

Daniel glanced at me. I smirked.

"Guess we'll have to finish this conversation later."

****

The moment Daniel and I stepped into the Administrator's Office, the air changed.

The tension here was thick coiled and controlled, but undeniable. Serious business.

Hazel was already standing near the large desk, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Raphael was there too, standing stiff, his gaze locked onto the two angels and two demons seated across from Kimper. I knew those demons, our uncles. The angels? I'd seen them once, maybe twice. But if they were here, this was far bigger than just some school meeting.

Higher rank than Kimper. That was rare.

Daniel, being Daniel, moved smoothly, inclining his head in a respectful bow. "Archangels. Lords."

The demons acknowledged him with a nod, but the angels didn't just nod they returned the bow. A small one, but a bow nonetheless. And the demons? They bowed as well.

I smirked. Good.

No matter what I was, I was still Hell's Heir.

Daniel didn't even react, keeping that calm, unfazed energy of his, but I caught the slight twitch of his fingers. Interesting.

Kimper finally leaned forward, folding his hands together on his desk. "Now that we're all here, let's begin."

His eyes swept across the room, calculating, before he spoke again. "There have been report worrying reports of missing supernaturals. Not just here in London, but in the United States as well."

Daniel barely blinked, but I could feel the tension in his stance. Hazel's lips pressed together, unreadable as ever. Raphael? Nothing on his face. Of course.

But my uncles? Interesting.

Lord Mordecai, the elder of the two demons, tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair. "The disappearances aren't random. They're targeted." His voice was deep, commanding, edged with a rasp that made it clear he wasn't amused. "Strong ones. Gifted ones. And young."

"Too young," Lord Vael, the second demon, muttered. "This isn't some rogue vampire hunt."

"And yet, the attacks have been reckless," one of the angels cut in Archangel Zareth, golden-haired, sharp-eyed. His gaze flicked to Kimper. "You said there was an incident here on school grounds."

Kimper exhaled, nodding. "Yes. A supernatural attack occurred within Eldermire."

Archangel Dorian colder, more severe spoke next. "And you found no traces of how they got in?"

"None." Hazel finally spoke, her voice clipped. "We're still investigating, but we have no leads."

Lord Mordecai hummed, unimpressed. "Convenient."

I grinned. "Very."

Kimper shot me a warning look, but I didn't care. This was interesting.

"The situation is worsening," Vael said darkly. "If someone breached Eldermire's defenses, that means they either had an inside source or power strong enough to bypass them. Neither option is acceptable."

Then, Zareth's eyes shifted cold, calculating. "And the mortal?"

A pause.

Raphael's expression didn't change. "She's in the infirmary. Resting."

That caught my attention.

She's what?

My smirk vanished.

"Is she alright?" I asked lazily, though I felt something in my gut tighten.

Raphael barely looked at me, his expression blank. "She will be."

I stared at him for a moment, then exhaled slowly, letting my smirk return. "You sound concerned, brother."

Raphael didn't bite. Annoying.

But Lord Vael exhaled. "Back to the main issue what is this I hear about dark magic being involved in the attack?"

Dark magic.

I stilled.

My eyes flicked to Raphael, waiting.

He didn't hesitate. "There was no dark magic involved."

Liar.

Dorian didn't look convinced. "Are you sure?"

Raphael met his gaze without flinching. "I was there. I saw nothing of the sort."

Zareth studied him, then exhaled. "Odd. Our reports suggest otherwise."

Silence.

Then I laughed softly, rolling my shoulders. "Well, well. Isn't that interesting?"

Hazel shot me a look. Kimper, too.

But I just grinned.

Oh, this was getting good.

Raphael pov.

The moment the elders left, the heavy tension in the office lifted, but only slightly.

Hazel stayed behind to talk to Kimper, while Daniel exchanged brief words with Lord Vael before stepping out. I didn't wait for anything else I turned and walked straight to my dorm.

I needed space.

The conversation had gone as expected. The disappearances. The attack. The supernatural hunters. The dark magic.

And then Mirabel.

I ran a hand through my hair as I reached my door, pushing it open. The second I stepped inside, I knew I wasn't alone.

Azazel was already there.

Seated casually in my chair, legs stretched out, a glass of something dark in his hand. Whiskey, most likely. His smirk was lazy, but his golden eyes burned too intensely to be amusement.

I sighed, shutting the door behind me. "What do you want?"

Azazel tilted his head. "Why was she in the infirmary?"

I took off my blazer, tossing it onto my bed. "She stressed the wound. Made it bleed." I didn't look at him as I rolled up my sleeves. "That's all."

Silence.

I felt his eyes on me, watching, waiting.

Then, with that infuriatingly smooth voice, he murmured, "You always have excuses, don't you?"

I paused, then exhaled, keeping my tone calm. "It's the truth."

Azazel chuckled. "Is it?" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "You act like you can protect her. Like you always do. But the funny thing is" He smiled, slow and sharp. "You're always late."

I clenched my jaw.

Azazel didn't stop. "Every. Single. Time." His voice was smooth, taunting. "What was it this time? You got there after she was bleeding out? After she was already in pain?" He took a slow sip of his drink, his smirk widening over the rim. "After you let the rogues get that close?"

I let out a slow breath. "At least I got there before they could finish her," I said coolly. "While you

.." I turned, finally looking at him. "..were busy enjoying the party."

Azazel didn't react right away. Then, he set his drink down, his smirk never wavering. "True," he admitted. "I was at the party."

He stood, walking toward me, his steps deliberate. "But at least I wasn't the one who drove a sword into her."

I froze.

Azazel tilted his head, watching me. Savoring my reaction. "Imagine if she remembers, Raphael." His voice was velvet-smooth, edged with something dark. "If she puts the pieces together. If she realizes the truth."

I stared at him.

His smirk widened. "Luckily, she's new."

My vision darkened.

I moved before I could think, grabbing his collar and slamming him into the nearest wall. The whiskey glass shattered on the floor, the scent of alcohol sharp in the air.

Azazel just laughed.

His laugh was quiet, almost amused. He didn't struggle, didn't push back he just let me pin him there, back against the wall, his golden eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

I hated that look.

That smug, knowing stare.

My fingers clenched tighter around his collar. "You think this is a joke?" My voice was low, steady. Dangerous.

Azazel's smirk didn't fade. "Oh, not at all." His hands remained relaxed at his sides, like he wasn't even fazed. "I'm simply enjoying the irony."

I forced myself to breathe evenly. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Azazel hummed. "Don't I?" His head tilted, his smirk sharpening. "Tell me, Raphael. How do you sleep at night, knowing the blood on your hands isn't just of enemies, but hers?"

My grip tightened.

Azazel let out a soft chuckle. "Touched a nerve, didn't I?" His voice dipped lower, taunting. "You can't erase the past, brother. You can't change the fact that you took her from me once." His smile vanished, his voice darkening. "But you won't do it again."

I glared at him. "You act like she was ever yours to begin with."

Azazel's jaw twitched.

For a second, neither of us moved. The room was silent, the tension thick enough to suffocate.

Then Azazel's smirk returned, slower this time. "Let go of me, Raphael."

I held his gaze.

Then I released him, stepping back, jaw tight.

Azazel smoothed his collar, straightening his shirt like nothing happened. "You know," he mused, "it's cute how you're playing guardian. Like it'll make a difference." He glanced at me, his smirk widening. "Because in the end..." He turned toward the door. "..she's still mine."

I exhaled sharply. "Stay away from her, Azazel."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't take orders from you." His hand reached for the doorknob. But before stepping out, he glanced over his shoulder, smirk intact. "And let's be honest neither does she."

Then he was gone.

I stood there, staring at the door, my fists still clenched.

Damn him.