CHAPTER 70: CHAPTER 69: MAYBE THE BLOW REWIRED SOMETHING.

Theo laughed, pointing at Eryx. "You did look like you were about to faint though. I swear your soul left your body for a second."

Ian, still standing, finally spoke with a lazy smirk. "Loyalty, huh? Sounded more like a dying seal."

Theo turned to him, scandalized. "Did you just call me a seal?"

Azrael chuckled, shaking his head. "God, I missed this kind of love. You guys are all terrible at expressing emotions."

Eryx leaned closer, narrowing his eyes. "No, you’re terrible at not dying, you idiot."

Theo grinned. "He’s got a point. Maybe next time, try not to get possessed or poisoned or whatever the hell that was."

Azrael raised an eyebrow. "Noted. I’ll pencil that in right after don’t get strangled by family."

That earned a low grunt from Rhydric in the corner, almost a warning, almost a sigh. He doesn’t even know how to express himself.

The others exchanged looks but said nothing.

Azrael looked over at him with that small, crooked grin. "Don’t look so gloomy, storm. I’m still breathing. You didn’t kill me completely."

Rhydric opened one eye, deadpan. "You talk too much for someone who just came back from the grave."

Theo laughed, clapping once. "And he’s back! Look at him alive and well."

Azrael leaned back against the headboard, grin widening. "Guess death really can’t kill the mood around here."

The tension that had wrapped around the room started to loosen not gone, but softer, lighter.

For the first time that night, they all managed a laugh.

Azrael leaned back against the headboard, the faint smirk still tugging at the corner of his lips. The laughter slowly died down, and silence began to crawl its way back into the room, this time heavier, thoughtful.

Theo tapped his hand on his laps. His ring making a soft sound against each other. "Alright," he said finally, voice casual but laced with tension. "Now that Sleeping Beauty’s back from the dead..." He glanced at Azrael, eyes narrowing slightly. "Mind telling us what the hell happened?"

Azrael’s grin faltered just for a second, before he forced it back. "Define ’what happened.’"

Eryx groaned. "Don’t start please. We’re serious."

Ian crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. "Was it him?"

Azrael’s jaw tensed, but he said nothing. He just stared down at his hands, at the faint red marks still clinging to his wrists.

Theo scoffed softly. "Obviously it was. Who else can mess you up this bad and live to tell the tale?"

Eryx’s voice dropped. "Your father."

The name alone carried enough venom to make the air shift. Rhydric, who had been quiet the whole time, straightened from the wall. His piercing blue eyes flicked toward Azrael, not cold this time, just... heavy.

Azrael didn’t meet his gaze. He took a slow breath, his voice quieter now, rough around the edges. "He used silver."

Eryx’s head snapped up. "He what? Yeah I felt it but why?"

Theo blinked, disbelief flashing across his face. "On you? That’s..."

"Insane," Ian finished for him, tone dark. "Didn’t know the man’s desperation is this huge."

Azrael laughed under his breath, though it sounded hollow. "Yeah, well. He’s an overachiever in cruelty. Always has been."

Theo frowned, leaning forward. "What the hell was he thinking? You could’ve lost control. You almost did."

Azrael’s gaze flickered up, red briefly glinting behind the blue and then faded. "That was the point."

The room fell silent again. No one moved. Even Eryx stopped fidgeting.

Azrael exhaled softly, running a hand through his hair. "He wanted me to lose it. To prove I can’t control the beast. That I’m not ready. Or maybe..." His voice lowered. "Maybe he just wanted to break me and prove his point."

Rhydric’s jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "And he almost did."

Azrael’s head turned toward him slowly, eyes meeting his. "Almost," he said quietly. "But not quite."

Theo rubbed his face, muttering, "Damn. I knew that bastard was bad, but this? That’s next level psychotic."

If his father was a good man, he would have been annoyed with the way his friends spoke about him. But he’ll, his father deserved it and he’s still going to make him pay for what he did.

Eryx’s voice was sharper now. "If I ever see him, I swear I’ll..."

"You’ll do nothing," Rhydric cut in, his tone final, clipped. "Not now."

Eryx’s nostrils flared, but he shut up.

Azrael’s lips twitched, almost a smirk again. "See? That’s why he’s the most reasonable person here."

Theo sighed, tipping his head back against the chair. "You know, for once, I’d like a night where no one almost dies, no one bleeds, and no ancient psycho dad decides to ruin the mood."

Ian chuckled lowly. "You’re asking too much from Alpha of the south."

Azrael finally smiled small but tired and real. "Guess peace was never our thing."

Rhydric looked at him for a long moment, then muttered, "Get some rest. We’ll deal with him soon."

Azrael tilted his head, a shadow of a grin curling his lips. "Can’t wait."

The room went quiet again, but this time, it wasn’t cold or fearful.

Quietness? when, Theo and Eryx is in the room? Never not happening. Over their dead bodies.

Theo was the first to break the silence. He leaned forward in his chair, squinting at Azrael like he was examining some strange specimen.

"Tell me something," he began, tapping his chin. "Did hitting your head when you died suddenly turn you into a talkative bastard? Because I swear, this is the most you’ve said in months."

Eryx snorted, clutching his stomach. "Right? One near-death experience and now he’s got a whole damn speech ready. Maybe we should kill him more often."

Azrael rolled his eyes. "Ha-ha. Very funny, Eryx."

Ian, standing in his usual quiet stance, finally cracked a faint smile. "They’re not entirely wrong. You barely speak when you’re alive, but the moment death brushes past you, you won’t shut up."

Theo gasped dramatically. "Exactly! Man almost bleeds out and suddenly he’s Socrates, dropping emotional quotes and moral lessons like he’s in a damn movie."

Azrael smirked, raising a brow. "Well, I had to leave a good impression for my eulogy."

"Eulogy?" Eryx laughed so hard he nearly fell off the bed. "Buddy, if you had died, we were going to dump your body in the woods and pretend we never knew you. Ain’t no priest touching that cursed soul."

"Or," Theo added with a grin, "we’d just tell the humans a bear did it. A very angry, shirtless bear."

Why shirtless though.

That earned a low laugh from even Rhydric, who still leaned against the wall, head tilted back, arms folded. "You’re all idiots," he muttered under his breathe, but there was warmth in it this time.

Azrael smiled faintly, eyes glinting with mischief. "You love us."

Theo gasped again, clutching his chest. "There it is again! He’s talking." He turned to Ian, "Quick, call the doctor. Maybe the blow to the head rewired something!"

Ian chuckled. "I’ll admit, it’s an upgrade. I prefer this version of him to the brooding statue we usually get."

Azrael groaned. "I get almost killed, healed with pain that felt like fire, and this is how you all show love?"

"Absolutely," Theo said, patting his leg. "Welcome back, sunshine. Next time, try dying with less drama though, I almost cried."

Eryx added, grinning, "You did cry."

"I sneezed, you idiot!"

Azrael snorted into a short laugh he tried and failed to hide.

Even Rhydric’s lips twitched. "You’re lucky you’re still breathing," he said quietly. "Otherwise, I’d have made sure to drag your ghost back just to shut you up."

Theo pointed at Rhydric. "See? That’s love right there. Dark romance, threatening mafia like love."

Azrael grinned, leaning back against the headboard again. "You all missed me."

"Not really," Theo said.

"Yes we did," Eryx corrected at the same time.

Ian sighed. "Unfortunately."

And for the first time that night, the tension in the air finally cracked, replaced by quiet laughter.

.

.

.

Next Day...

Morning light spilled gently through the curtains, painting the room in gold, making everywhere look calm, soft.

Athena blinked awake, her cheek pressed to Oliver’s chest. His warmth surrounded her, steady and grounding. The rhythm of his heartbeat was the first thing she heard, that soft, steady sound that had always meant safety.

She didn’t move at first. She just stared.

His lashes cast faint shadows on his skin. A bit of stubble brushed along his jaw. His lips parted slightly with each breath. Even in sleep, he looked like peace. Like everything she wasn’t.

And then there was that tiny crease between his brows that one that never seemed to fade. As if even in his dreams, he was still watching over her.

Her chest tightened.

God, he was beautiful. He always had been.

Her fingers moved before she realized it, tracing his jaw, the corner of his mouth. She smiled faintly, but it didn’t last long.

The ache came fast. Deep and cruel.

Like guilt wearing a familiar face.

What was she doing?

Lying in the arms of the man who had saved her again and again. Pulled her out of her sorrow, and all she could think about of another guy. Guys even.The phantom fours. Heaven knows what they’re made of. They pull something raw and forbidden from her chest.

She loved Oliver. She did. She knew it in the quiet moments, in the warmth of his touch, in how his voice could calm every storm inside her.

But not the way he deserved.

Not the way he loved her.

Not the way he should be.