Azrael’s POV

*****

Bloodoak Academy, 9: 09 Am.

He was a vampire.

He’s lived for centuries. Watched people wither and die while he grew stronger. Watched entire empires rise and fall.

Rejection wasn’t new to him.

Yet... when Celeste left. After calling him a ’creep’ and looking at him with nothing but disgust—he felt something in him shatter. He tried keeping calm. Tried respecting her need for space.

But as he watched the black car drive away from the academy gates, disappearing under the thick shades of the surrounding forest, he couldn’t help but wonder:

"Perhaps I should’ve left out the fact that I’ve watched her all her life," he smiled wryly, his fists curling in his pockets. "But it’s for the best. Any more secrets would’ve led to resentment whenever it naturally came out."

He glanced around.

He had a penthouse somewhere in Asheville but didn’t feel like heading there right now. He also didn’t feel like staying back here in the academy. Not with all these students staring like they’ve got nothing better to do.

So, he drifted into the shadows, disappearing within seconds once the wind picked up. He knew a spot he could linger in for a moment...

.

.

"One velvet cake, please," he smiled at the woman behind the front counter of his favourite pastry shop in downtown Asheville.

The woman returned the smile. "Azrael. I haven’t seen you around here in a long time, hon."

"It hasn’t been that long."

"Over two weeks if memory serves me correctly."

To be fair, he only came here a few times before permanently moving into Bloodoak Academy. But those few times were enough to leave an impression on this woman.

Who also happened to be a witch.

"Just have a seat while I get it for you." She gestured to a free seat close to a see-through glass wall.

Azrael nodded, pivoting to the seat. Only a few customers were in the shop, and they were so occupied with their little conversations that they did not notice him.

It was one thing he liked about the place.

As he made himself comfortable, his mind echoed with nothing but the last words Celeste threw at him. From the hopeful ones. The ones that made him feel like she was truly going to accept him...

... And then the ones that cut like a dagger.

He placed a hand on the wooden table, his fingers twirling quietly. ’Maybe I am a creep. Imagine being so entangled with... a girl I’ve watched through every stage of life before now.’

He hated how bad her words got to him.

But at the same time... he didn’t truly believe that about himself. Throughout the years, he’s never broken the High One’s rule of never interacting with the Bloodoak family.

He only ever broke that rule once. The night he saved her in the forest.

Other than that, he also once got close to interfering. When Celeste Bloodoak was just a little girl feeling neglected.

.

.

Eleven years ago, Bloodoak Pack.

Little Celeste was in her family’s garden, eyes closed as she concentrated. Her brother stood beside her, also in the same formation.

The wind stilled around them, Luna Queen Odessa watching from a wooden bench with expectant eyes. The twins stayed in that position for several seconds.

Unbeknownst to everyone in the garden, a presence lingered on a tree branch. Curious. Watching.

At one point, Celeste’s forehead creased with a frown. She was getting frustrated with how long the exercise was taking and kept losing focus in the process.

Just when she was about to open her eyes and complain that she couldn’t do it, Caelum exclaimed with excitement.

"I did it! Look, mummy, I did it!

Celeste jerked, head swinging to her brother. On his outstretched palms was a soft glow of purple light. His eyes glistened, fingers twitching as the light magnified in brightness.

Odessa got to her feet. "Good job, Caelum!" She spread out her arms, overwhelmed with relief and pride as she pulled him into a hug. "I knew you could do it."

On the side, Celeste felt the urge to keep trying. So she did, closing her eyes again and taking in deep breaths. However, each time she tried, it failed.

Her eyes quivered when her mother spoke calmly:

"Celeste—baby, that’s enough for today, okay? We’ll try again tomorrow."

The little girl immediately shook her head. "But... It’s not fair."

"Sweetheart—"

"Caelum has been getting each magic lesson you teach us. While I keep failing. For once I... I just want to get this for once."

Odessa’s shoulders fell. "Honey, you don’t have to prove anything to me. These things sometimes take time."

But Celeste didn’t listen, stretching out her hands again. "I’ll try again."

The Luna Queen watched her daughter, speechless and helpless. Caelum held her hand, blinking at his sister with no words. Until, "Mom, I’m hungry."

Odessa tried calling Celeste’s attention, telling her to come in. She didn’t listen, insisting that her mother was distracting her. When mother and son left and the little princess was alone... she broke.

"I’m not good at anything," her voice cracked, arms falling beside her as she opened her eyes. "These spells are supposed to be easy. Yet—I..."

Tears split down her cheeks.

And watching all this happening from that tree branch was Azrael. He almost felt bad for the child.

’You’ll be alright, little one.’ he didn’t know when he raised a hand, twisting his fingers in a clockwise motion.

Slowly, the wind around Celeste sped up. Just a bit. But enough to make the leaves around her spin. Her eyes opened wide with surprise. And something rare.

Hope.

"Am I... am I doing this?" She beamed, hugging her arms to her chest as the leaves kept spinning around her.

That brought a smile to the corner of Azrael’s lips.

However... something happened that made him regret his little act of kindness. The little hybrid snapped her neck to the tree he hid in.

Exactly right at it.

Azrael’s expression hardened, his hand pulling back to himself. Shadows swallowed him, keeping him hidden. All while Celeste stared intently.

Too intently.

’Did she... sense me?’ he thought to himself, unable to believe it.

Since that day, he promised himself not to interfere or interact in any form, directly or otherwise. Alas... fate works in funny ways.

.

.

Back in the present, as he reminisced about that day, he couldn’t help but wonder if Celeste sensed him because he was Vein-touched. Which would mean she’s always been linked to its chaotic magic.

The thought lingered longer than he liked.

"Here you go, hon."

Azrael blinked, snapping out of his thoughts as the woman returned, carefully placing a neatly boxed velvet cake in front of him alongside a small plate and utensils.

"On the house," she added with a wink.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "You’ll ruin your business that way."

"Oh please," she waved him off. "You barely come around anymore. Let me spoil you when you do."

He nodded once in thanks, sliding the box open. The rich scent of cocoa and sugar filled the air instantly.

Normally, he would’ve found it amusing—how a vampire sat in broad daylight, about to indulge in something so... mundane.

Today, he didn’t care.

He picked up the knife absentmindedly, cutting into the cake.

Then—

His hand stilled.

He felt a sudden shift. Subtle. But unmistakable.

Azrael’s head tilted slightly, his gaze drifting toward the glass wall beside him. Across the street, people moved about their day. Cars passed. Nothing out of place.

Nothing wrong.

Yet—He felt it.

A presence.

His eyes narrowed. "You’re not very subtle today," he muttered under his breath.

"Wasn’t trying to be." The voice came from directly in front of him.

Azrael didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Because now she was there.

Amunira sat comfortably on the seat opposite his, one leg crossed over the other, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

His expression flattened.

"This would’ve been perfect," he said calmly, picking up the spoon, "without you."

Her smirk widened. "A whole cake, Azrael? For one vampire?" Her eyes flicked to the dessert before returning to him. "Going through something, are we?"

He didn’t answer immediately, cutting out a neat slice and lifting it to his mouth. "I’ve had worse mornings."

She watched him closely. Too closely.

Then her expression shifted, the playfulness melting away.

"I saw her," Amunira said quietly. "At the gates."

Azrael paused mid-bite. Only for a second. "...Did you?"

"She left you."

It wasn’t judgment. Just a fact.

Her gaze sharpened. "What happened?"

He took the bite anyway, chewing slowly before answering. "She found out."

Amunira’s brows knit together slightly. "Found out... what?"

"That I’m a vampire." He swallowed, reaching for another slice like they were discussing the weather. "And that I work for the High One." A pause. "And that I’ve been watching her since birth."

Silence.

Amunira stiffened.

Her eyes flicked briefly toward the shop owner behind the counter, scanning the room to make sure no one was paying attention.

Then she leaned forward slightly. "Do you realise the gravity of what you just said?"

Azrael didn’t even look up. "I do."

"And you said it anyway?"

"I did."

He cut another piece. Unbothered.

Amunira stared at him like she was trying to figure out if he’d finally lost his mind. "Azrael..." She stopped.

Her hand twitched. Then something slipped from her fingers, hitting the table softly. A folded piece of paper.

No—not paper. Energy. Dark. Chaotic.

Azrael’s eyes flicked to it. "What is that?"

Amunira’s lips parted. For the first time since she appeared, she looked worried.

"The High One reached out," she said slowly. "To all of us."

Azrael frowned. "...All of you?"

"All vampires." Her fingers curled slightly on the table. "A telepathic call."

His brows drew together.

"I didn’t receive anything."

That made her expression darken further. "That’s the problem." She leaned in. "She told us to prepare."

"For what?" Azrael asked.

Amunira shook her head. "She didn’t say."

Silence stretched between them again.

Azrael leaned back slightly, his gaze dropping to the cake. Then back to her. "Interesting."

"That’s your reaction?" she snapped quietly. "Azrael, if you didn’t hear it—if you weren’t included—then that means—"

"I’m being cut off," he finished for her.

Her jaw tightened. "Yes."

He hummed. Then took another bite.

"Good."

Amunira stared at him.

"Good?"

"That means I can stop her," he said simply. "Fully this time. Whatever she’s planning with Celeste ends with me."

Something flickered across Amunira’s face.

Not relief or approval. Fear.

"Azrael..." she said carefully. "A disconnection from the High One isn’t freedom."

He didn’t respond. Because he already knew what she was about to say.

Her voice dropped into something colder. "It’s a death sentence..."