Azrael’s POV

*****

Old Bloodoak Amphitheatre, 9:50 PM

"Excuse me?" Luther nearly exclaimed after Atlas’s revelation. "Lysandra? As in... Lysandra Carrington?"

The witch sneered. "How many Lysandras do you know, Alpha?"

As the other guys swarmed Atlas with questions on what he just revealed, Azrael’s arms folded in front of his chest. From beneath his sunglasses, he studied the faces around him.

The Dean and how shaken he was for example. He noticed how the man sneaked occasional looks at the Luna Queen. Tense looks. Like a puppy forced to obey.

His brow arched. ’Interesting. Did she finally confront him?’

Then he turned to Odessa and Celeste.

His mate was slowly regaining herself, hands clutching her mother. The latter held her daughter close, brushing her fingers gently through her hair. While also listening to what Atlas had to say.

"I know it sounds unbelievable," Atlas raised his hands. "But that’s the face I saw. Clear as day. She even smirked at me before disappearing."

"More reasons why I don’t buy it." Luther’s head shook. "As much as Lysandra is a monumental bitch, she’s far from having the capacity to manipulate an entire academy for days."

"Why’s it hard to believe?" Silas chimed with a shrug, eyes sweeping past all of them. "We all remember that incident with her ’mother’."

"The witch who first called Celeste child of chaos?" Odessa seemed up to date with the gossip.

"Yes," Silas nodded. "We were never certain but that woman didn’t use magic the conventional way. And she was able to aid with a spell powerful enough to mind control an Alpha like Luther."

His brother’s jaw tightened. "But—"

"Who’s to say Lysandra didn’t seek help from that woman again?" Silas pushed. "Or that the woman was using Lysandra. Her tool for manipulating the rest of us."

Everyone stayed silent.

In theory, everything that the Beta said made sense.

But... there was one thing.

"Don’t you all think it’s too convenient?" Azrael spoke up this time. "Yes, I’m not denying Lysandra hated Celeste. Neither am I denying her potential as a threat..."

He paused, head angling to Celeste. Her eyes were wide open now, distant and present all at once. Meaning she was listening.

"... How does someone who’s managed to stay hidden and unsuspected for so long suddenly slip up enough to show us her face?" Azrael dropped the question like a bomb. "It’s easy. Too easy."

"My point exactly." Luther snapped his fingers, giving Silas an ’I told you so’ look. "It’s like she wanted us to know it’s her."

Atlas added. "And then, those notes... if truly she was behind those notes, it would mean she was unintentionally helping Celeste. Giving her clues. Confess, Choose, Control..."

Something pulsed through the bond just then. Azrael’s neck snapped to Celeste in time to witness her grunting as she rose to her feet.

Her mother tried assisting her but she stubbornly did it herself. Once she was up, she huffed a breath.

"I smell foul play." She said, "And I can’t believe I’m saying anything to defend Lysandra... but everything that has happened these past couple weeks seems beyond even her."

"It’s a witch hunt," Azrael blurted. "And someone might’ve just found the perfect target to pin it on."

Suddenly, Dean Thorne cleared his throat, forcing all heads to turn to him as one. The man’s back straightened, calm settling back into his features.

"For now, I suggest we place Miss Carrington under custody." He stated firmly. "Until we can find someone else, she’s our main suspect."

The declaration hung heavy in the cold night air.

Luther let out a scoff that sounded half like disbelief, half like annoyance. Silas merely rubbed his chin thoughtfully while Atlas looked as though he was replaying the rooftop encounter for the hundredth time.

Azrael’s gaze drifted to Celeste again.

She looked... exhausted.

Not just physically. Something deeper. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, her breathing uneven like someone who had just survived drowning.

And if Azrael knew anything about the Vein—which he did—then that was exactly what it felt like.

"Celeste should get some rest," Odessa suddenly spoke, her voice cutting through the tension with quiet authority.

Every head turned to her.

"She just went through a Vein surge," the Luna Queen continued calmly. "And from what Atlas described, someone intentionally pushed it."

"That’s exactly why I should stay," Celeste protested immediately, pulling slightly away from her mother. "If we’re going after Lysandra, I want to see her face when you apprehend her."

Azrael almost smiled at that.

Ever so stubborn.

"Absolutely not," Odessa replied without hesitation. "You are going to rest."

Celeste opened her mouth again, ready to argue.

"Celeste."

Her name was all her mother uttered again.

The girl deflated slightly.

"...Fine," she muttered.

Azrael stepped forward before anyone else could speak. "I’ll escort her."

All eyes shifted to him.

Luther studied him briefly before giving a short nod. "Good idea."

Odessa seemed to consider it for half a second before agreeing.

"Please, make sure she actually rests."

Azrael inclined his head slightly. "Of course."

Celeste didn’t argue this time.

She simply turned and started walking while Azrael followed.

.

.

The walk back to the dormitories was quiet.

Too quiet.

The academy grounds had mostly emptied for the night. A few distant voices drifted through the cool air, but nothing close enough to disturb the silence between them.

Celeste walked a few steps ahead at first.

Then she slowed slightly.

Azrael matched her pace without saying a word.

He could feel the Vein’s residue still clinging to her aura. Faint now... but present. Like smoke after a fire.

Celeste didn’t speak the entire walk.

And Azrael didn’t pry.

Some silences deserved respect.

Eventually, they reached the familiar corridor leading to her suite.

The hallway lights cast a soft golden glow across the polished floors.

Celeste stopped in front of her door.

For a moment she just stood there.

Then she opened it.

The second she stepped inside, however, something in her finally broke.

Azrael barely had time to shut the door behind them before she collapsed into tears. He crossed the room in two strides and pulled her into his arms.

She clung to him instantly.

"I was so afraid," she choked out between breaths. "Azrael... I could feel it. The Vein."

Her fingers tightened in the fabric of his coat. "It was like... like it was eating me from the inside."

Azrael held her a little tighter.

"I didn’t know how long I could keep it back," she continued, voice trembling. "Another minute and I think I would’ve just—"

"Hey."

His voice was quiet but steady.

"You didn’t."

She sniffed weakly.

"But I almost did."

"And yet you didn’t."

He brushed a hand gently through her hair.

"You held it together. That’s what matters."

She leaned her forehead against his chest, breathing unevenly.

"I keep saying this, little miss... You are not alone in this," Azrael continued softly. "We’re here with you. Every step of the way."

Slowly... her breathing calmed.

The tension in her shoulders eased.

"Come on," he murmured.

He guided her toward the bed.

Celeste didn’t resist as he helped her sit down before pulling the covers over her.

She looked utterly drained now.

But there was a faint smile on her lips.

"You know," she mumbled sleepily, "you’ve always given off serious dad vibes."

Azrael raised an eyebrow. "You should be careful saying things like that."

She chuckled weakly. "See? Dad energy."

He sighed quietly but didn’t argue.

Her eyes were already starting to close.

Then she opened her mouth again. This time saying something completely unexpected.

"...I know you’re not a normal witch."

Azrael froze.

She didn’t open her eyes.

"I don’t know how I know," she whispered. "But the signs are getting more obvious."

Silence lingered between them. Then, she added:

"I wonder how long you’ll wait before you tell me everything."

Azrael said nothing as he watched her breathing even out moments later. It didn’t take long before sleep whisked her away.

For a long moment, he simply stood there watching her. Then he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I’ve been waiting for the right time," he murmured quietly. "And when you finally see all of me... I only hope you don’t turn away."

He straightened.

Instead of heading for the door, he stepped onto the balcony.

The night air greeted him immediately, coiling around him like wisps. A second later... he was gone.

.

.

Azrael landed silently on the balcony of his own suite. The curtains shifted slightly as he stepped inside. And then stopped.

Amunira stood near the window.

Waiting.

The vampire didn’t turn immediately.

"I had a feeling you’d come back this way," she said calmly.

Azrael removed his sunglasses slowly.

"You shouldn’t sneak into people’s rooms."

"That was risky." Her eyes finally turned toward him. "What you all did tonight."

Azrael didn’t reply.

"She touched the Vein again," Amunira continued. "You know what that means."

His jaw tightened slightly.

"If she keeps doing that," she went on, "her connection to it will accelerate."

Her gaze hardened.

"And you shouldn’t forget that the High One is still watching."