Chapter 134: Guilt
Azriel
"Are you saying that I came within an inch of murdering him?" I demanded, my voice broken as I paced back and forth across the chambers.
I raked my fingers through my white hair, the strands catching against my trembling hands.
I couldn’t even force my feet to step near the bed. I couldn’t look at Seraphel lying there, completely unconscious, looking so fragile after collapsing directly into my arms.
My mind was a jagged void. I had no coherent recollection of how I had even arrived in the courtyard.
All I remembered after Eiren’s betrayal was a dark, suffocating fog, pierced only by a chorus of malicious whispers inside my skull, screaming at me to tear Seraphel apart.
Even now, those horrific voices hissed in the shadows of my mind, refusing to go silent.
It was the only reason I stayed away from Seraphel while Thamiel finished examining him.
"He is going to recover," Thamiel announced smoothly, pulling back from the bedside. "The real question you ought to be asking is whether you will be alright, or if you are about to be entirely consumed by your demon side that has breached its seal."
A ragged groan escaped my throat, and I dug my fingers into my scalp, pulling at my hair. "I don’t know..." I let out a heavy, shuddering breath. "I choked him. I felt his breath stopping in my hands. He must despise me now, after everything I put him through. I was supposed to protect him—to protect my kingdom—and instead, I became the threat."
"Do not heap this guilt upon your shoulders," Anomas murmured softly, stepping up beside me to place a grounding hand on my back. "This tragedy does not lie at your door. It was Mirevale’s divine death curse activating the instant your consciousness was shattered. The fact that your memories remain fractured only proves that your own psyche is desperately trying to shield you from the trauma."
I buried my face in my hands, my voice barely a whisper. "Will he hate me when his eyes open?"
Anomas glanced toward the bed where Seraphel rested silently. "That choice belongs to him, but I highly doubt it. That mortal loves you beyond measure—his only concern while you were missing was your safety."
"It is my fault," I hissed through gritted teeth, my hands curling into tight, bone-white fists. "If only I had never allowed that deceitful human to draw close to me. If only I hadn’t granted him an audience in the first place, none of this nightmare would have unfolded!"
Thamiel cleared his throat with a dry click. "Self-flagellation achieves nothing now. The consort is breathing, which means our immediate crisis is resolved. What demands our focus now is the looming threat of Elysium."
"We should proceed to the council chamber to meet your brothers," Anomas reminded me gently. "Luceriel is practically vibrating with rage after discovering you absorbed a deity’s curse."
I exhaled slowly, my eyes turning back to Seraphel’s sleeping form.
A sudden, sharp agony stabbed through my chest, making my breath hitch as my heart hammered violently against my ribs.
My stomach twisted into a sickening knot of pure horror.
What if my hands hadn’t stopped? What if the mark hadn’t flashed? What if I had snapped his neck right there in the dirt? The imagination sent a wave of nausea crashing over me, my throat tightening so hard I could barely swallow. I was terrified of my own hands.
"He will be fine," Anomas assured me, placing a firm, comforting hand on my shoulder. "His body is simply drained from channeling Castiel’s divine light. Wielding such celestial authority takes a heavy toll on a mortal core especially since doesn’t have any spiritual energy.’’
"So much has fallen apart while I was gone," I muttered.
"Which is precisely why this council must take place," Thamiel replied, tearing open a swirling spatial portal in the center of the room before stepping through.
When we stepped into the grand chamber, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Luceriel stood motionless near the high arched window, staring out at the domain with cold authority. Sariel, sat at the round table with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his brow furrowed in a perpetual sneer. Taizel, was casually chewing on a delicacy as if he had not just fought. Raizel, held his golden fan high, concealing the lower half of his face, while Lumiel was issuing rapid, low orders to his border commanders through a communication rune before dismissing them.
Uriel was absent, but I already knew he was in the company of Tobias—his fated mate. Whatever trouble Sloth was in, Tobias would keep him safe.
"Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence," Sariel drawled, his voice heavy with dry bored impatience, as if waiting for me had been an intolerable chore.
"I needed to ensure Seraphel was stable," I replied, keeping my voice level.
"You have no one to blame but yourself, brother," Sariel fired back instantly, his envy flashing in his eyes. "The endless web of entanglements you kept in your harem has finally collapsed and bitten you in the ass."
Before I could retaliate, Luceriel turned sharply from the window. "The layout of this domain has altered. The palace architecture shifted entirely following the grand teleportation."
I followed Luceriel’s cold gaze toward the courtyard, realizing what he meant. The Tower of Prosperity, which had previously anchored itself outside the palace perimeter, was now standing directly inside the central courtyard.
"When the Tower activated during Katula’s destruction, it routed us to one of the many domains I crafted long ago," I explained. "While it mirrors my original kingdom, minor spatial shifts are inevitable during a mass transfer."
"Just like it’s inevitable that you lose control everything time you think with your Cock," Sariel interjected snidely, uncrossing his arms and tapping his fingers rhythmically against the stone table. "Now that you are back, when do you intend to explain why you hid Mirevale’s curse from us?"