Recent content by Azrakar

Azrakar felt the tension coil beneath his palm, the stubborn refusal of a body that ached for rest and food yet clung to its brittle defiance. Her denial was as frail as her voice, but he let it stand. He had no need to argue. The truth would carve itself into her sooner or later. The shard’s...

Azrakar’s eyes narrowed faintly at her muttered defiance. He did not look surprised; he had expected the lie. Hunger was plain in the hollow of her cheeks, in the way her gaze had lingered too long on the meat before tearing itself away. He did not press the point with words. Instead, he took...

Azrakar returned to the chamber later that evening, his strides silent against the stone floor. In his hands, he carried a shallow tray laden with small portions of wine, roasted meats, and fresh fruit. The scents of rich earth and roasted flesh mingled with the faint sweetness of the fruit...

Azrakar’s expression thinned into something colder than amusement. The theatre of her defiance had frayed; the threats that had once glittered like sparks at his feet now sounded like the repetitive tapping of a pebble against stone. He listened only long enough to admire the rhythm of her...

Azrakar let the lie hang between them like steam. Her answer was pretty in its defiance, but he saw the fissures it tried to hide: the quick catch of breath, the way her fingers fisted until the knuckles shone white. He crouched, the sheer bulk of him folding into the mist until his face was...

Azrakar’s lips quirked - half-sneer, half-smile - at the tiny furious spark she offered. He regarded her for a long moment. The cut on his cheek pulsed faintly with dried blood; her mark was a small argument in a war of greater wounds. He crouched again until their faces were level, so close...

Azrakar watched the spit arc and land at his feet. A slow, dark amusement warmed his features; the portion of him that delighted in small cruelties flexed like a coiled muscle. He did not rage. He only smiled. He stepped forward until the steam blurred the space between them. The vastness of...

Azrakar’s eyes narrowed, her growl vibrating through his chest less. It carried her anger through his core. Pride had faltered. Flesh had confessed. He did not retreat when she recoiled. His free hand followed her movement, catching her shoulder and holding her there. His other hand resumed its...

Azrakar watched the breath catch in her throat as the cloth pressed into her torn flesh. Azrakar reminded himself that she was destined, but still just a mortal. Her tremor was so slight, so human. She wasn't broken, but she was vulnerable. He could have savoured that. He preferred when she...

"No," he said plainly. "This is not the time for your fight," he warned. Those words were chilling in their implication. Azrakar calmly informed her that moments were coming where she would want to fight. That she should save her strength for that endeavour. The dark skinned demon dropped...

Her words hit him like sparks against iron: brief, bright, and utterly harmless. He could smell the lie clinging to them. He let the silence stretch, savoring the way she clenched her teeth against the truth. He felt her bite down on the sound of pain, stubborn even now. It drew a low growl...

Azrakar tightened his grip as her knees buckled, lifting her weight with insulting ease. Her body sagged against his hand, trembling, but he refused to let her crumple to the stone. He wanted her upright and staring into the truth of her defeat. “Good,” he rumbled when her eyes at last cracked...

Azrakar lingered in the doorway, the chamber’s gloom bending around his frame. No longer fire and shadow alone, but flesh and blood—an incarnation that bled and bore wounds, yet still eclipsed everything around him. The cut on his cheek stung. It was a reminder of her resistance and he let it...

Azrakar roared. It was a sound that she would feel in her gut like rolling thunder. He had expected a blow from her fist. There was still some dark magic in that shard. It cut his cheek, sending fire and blood across the floor. The daemon didn't recoil. As she darted for the weapons he grabbed...

He didn't glance down at his feet. He did look down at the necklace. Then he looked to her side. She was bleeding. His claws had torn armour, fabric and flesh. That would need treating. He wouldn't risk her life. It was precious. This was the ordained moment. The scion that would unravel the...