The silence in the village was wrong.
Too still. Too empty.
Azrael stood in the center of it, the wind brushing against his cloak like the whispers of the dead. He stared at the earth, sensing something… off. Then he saw it.
The ruby necklace.
Lying in the dirt, half-covered in dust and blood.
He knelt down slowly, picking it up between his fingers. The gem no longer glowed.
His heart dropped. His jaw clenched.
"…Jayden."
He said her name so softly, the wind almost stole it. But the storm brewing inside him roared to life. The air around him began to darken. Shadows twisted unnaturally at his feet, crawling outward like tendrils.
Then, without a word, he vanished.
The castle gates loomed tall, but Azrael didn't stop.
"Hey! Stop there—state your name and—" a guard shouted.
Azrael didn't even look at him.
"Where is she?"
The guard raised a brow and laughed, twirling his spear. "Oh, the little witch? She's been captured. Scheduled to be burned alive for her crimes. Why, you her lo—"
Before he finished, his head slid clean off his shoulders and hit the ground with a dull thud.
The other guard froze, blood draining from his face.
"INTRUDER!!" he screamed as he turned and bolted for the gates. "SOUND THE BELL—"
The castle bell rang out, sharp and urgent, echoing through the stone halls.
Armored soldiers flooded out in waves. The royal army assembled in seconds—but it didn't matter.
Azrael's eyes glowed red. His aura exploded like a tidal wave.
He didn't fight. He slaughtered.
Blades couldn't touch him. Magic shattered against his form. The reaper moved like death incarnate, cutting through men like paper, his scythe singing with every arc of destruction.
"Bring her to me," he growled, voice like thunder, "or I'll tear this castle down to its foundation. I will erase your bloodline from existence."
Terrified screams followed.
One commander dropped his weapon, shaking. "Sh-she's in the east tower prison… please, spare us…"
Azrael disappeared before the man finished speaking.
Jayden's body was limp.
Blood seeped around the magical spear embedded in her chest, glowing faintly. Her breath was thin—barely there. Her skin, pale as snow.
Mammoth knelt beside her, his arms wrapped around her fragile body.
"We're leaving," he whispered.
A single tear slipped from Jayden's eye.
He gently pulled the spear from her chest. Her lips parted in a gasp of pain before she slumped further into his arms. Mammoth cradled her like she was porcelain.
"You'll be free, Jayden. I'll give you everything he couldn't."
Then—
A shadow split the air.
"Put her down."
Mammoth turned, scowling. "Took you long enough."
Azrael stepped into the dungeon. His face was stone, but his eyes—his eyes burned with something ancient and furious.
"She's mine," he said darkly. "I warned you."
Mammoth didn't flinch. "You were too late. She's already dying. And I… I'm her master now."
Jayden stirred faintly, her lashes fluttering open.
Through the fog, she saw him.
"Azrael…?"
Her lips trembled as a faint smile touched her face.
"You… came…"
And then she went still again.
Azrael's heart broke.
He charged.
Their battle lit the dungeon in a storm of magic. Azrael didn't hold back. He fought like a man possessed, like a god with nothing left to lose. Blades of darkness clashed with Mammoth's golden magic, shaking the stone walls.
In the end, Mammoth fell to his knees, beaten and bloodied.
"She still belongs to me," he spat. "She'll come to me eventually. You can't stop it."
Azrael ignored him.
He dropped to his knees beside Jayden, gathering her in his arms.
"Jayden," he whispered. "Stay with me. Please."
He pressed his hand to her chest, magic glowing bright from his palm. The poison bled away. The wound closed. Her breathing slowly returned.
Her eyes fluttered open.
"…You came," she whispered weakly.
"I did," he breathed. "I'm here. I'm sorry I was late."
Her lips trembled. "I was… scared…"
Azrael's hands cradled her face, and for the first time in centuries, his voice cracked.
"I know. I know, little flame."
Then he kissed her.
It wasn't careful. It wasn't gentle.
It was fire.
Azrael's lips crashed into hers with all the fury, grief, and relief he carried. Her eyes widened before fluttering shut as she melted into him, her fingers weakly clutching at his cloak.
Her heart raced.
When he pulled back, her face was flushed, her lips trembling.
"Azrael…" she whispered.
He looked her in the eye.
"I love you," she said softly. "I don't know when it started… but I do. I'm in love with you."
Something unfamiliar slammed into his chest. Pain. Joy. Chaos.
He exhaled sharply—and kissed her again.
This time it was rougher. Desperate.
His hands slid to her waist, pulling her into his lap as his mouth explored hers. She gasped softly into him, her entire body trembling from exhaustion and from the warmth of his embrace. The kiss deepened, wild and breathless, her fingers now buried in his hair.
She wanted more. But not tonight.
When they broke apart, they were both panting, foreheads pressed together.
"I want to ruin you," he growled lowly, voice laced with restraint. "But not when you're barely standing."
Jayden blushed; eyes dazed. "Then just… stay with me tonight. Not just guarding. Be close. Please."
He nodded, brushing his thumb over her cheek.
"I'm not leaving you again."
Later, they found a quiet cave, away from the castle ruins.
Jayden lay on a bed of soft hay, wrapped in Azrael's cloak. Her breathing was calm now.
Azrael slid beside her, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist, pulling her into him.
"Sleep," he whispered against her ear. "I'll be right here."
She leaned into him, heart full.
And for the first time in her life, she fell asleep feeling safe.
The royal castle lay in shambles.
And the kingdom would never forget—
If they ever touched her again…
They would face the wrath of Death.