Chapter 27: Things that Bloom and Bite - 2
The den was quiet again—not peaceful, just tired, the kind of hush that settled after storms and kisses and too much warmth in a world built for cold.
Dust motes floated lazily in the fractured beams of corpse-light filtering through the cathedral’s cracked walls, casting long shadows over scattered bones and torn cloth.
Nyxsha sat on the edge of a broken pew, her massive form hunched, one clawed foot tapping slowly against the stone floor, her golden eyes locked on nothing, lost in the swirl of frustration and something deeper she couldn’t name.
Azareel had stopped trying to speak, his silver-white hair matted with berry juice and moss, his torn robe clinging to his slender frame.
He sat nearby, cross-legged on the cold stone, tracing a gentle spiral in the dust with one finger, his silver eyes, soft and patient.
He didn’t ask questions, didn’t explain himself—he just existed, soft, still, present, a quiet anchor in the den’s weary silence.
Which made it worse.
Finally, Nyxsha sighed, loud and frustrated, her tail thumping the ground like a drumbeat of unresolved anger. "Why?"
Azareel looked up, his head tilting slightly. "Why what?"
She turned to him, her golden eyes sharp, piercing. "Why are you like this?"