#that gets resolved

Your palms slip in the mud, sandals lost from your feet as you try to scramble backwards, something hard digging into the base of your spine. You’re caught at the base of an oak. 

Sweat slides down your temples. Chest heaving. Nausea stirring. Thighs trembling from exertion. 

Sabre teeth flash before you, claws gouging mud from the ground, tongue flicking saliva from its mouth. 

You’re going to die. There’s sweat cling to your body. Mud and grit lodged beneath your nails. A cloying damp digging into your spine. Lungs searing, aching for breath, more, more, more…

The creature rears on its tail, serpentine body coiling tight as fangs flash and your knees pull to your chest, arms covering your face. 

Steel hisses through scales, a bubble bursting as liquid gurgles. Mud splats on your bare shins as a heavy weight hits the wet earth. Copper bleeds through the forest air. 

No teeth chew your flesh. 

Cool, silken darkness slithers down over the bark, wrapping your shoulders, swirling round your waist. Paces squelch in the damp mud, pausing nearby. 

Then, “You’re okay…” 

That voice… 

Your arms fall away, staring at the male knelt before you, the massive serpent’s head laying decapitated by his side. Blood flecks his brown skin—red ink scrawled on parchment paper that’s been posted through your letter box day after day. Possessive words that fall deaf on romantic ears, while intensity glitters in the dark eyes before you. 

“…Az…riel…?” 

He nods, his black, inky hair grown long enough to flop over dark brows, soft and spiky in his eyes. 

“It’s me.” He tells you. “You’re okay.” 

Breath shudders through your chest, at once suctioned into your lungs with such force you nearly wind yourself. 

You tip yourself forward, uncaring for the gritty mud slicking your bare knees as you struggle forward, arms flying over his shoulders as you shudder. The serpent’s thick throat lies severed at his back, and your fingers clutch at the dark linen of his shirt, staring at the bleeding red hole of its throat you could have been swallowed down. 

His wings shift, pulling taut at his back, and the gore is hidden from sight. Warm, stable hands spread across your back, his fingers curling around the side of your ribs, thumbs softly strumming the bones. 

“You’re alright,” he reminds, soft and low. “You’re okay.” 

“You killed-… You saved…” Breath stammers, lungs stuttering. “Azriel…”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, distant enough his breath won’t frighten your ears. “Everything’s okay.” 

But the moment hasn’t ended yet for you. You’re still curled against the tree, the serpent rearing over you. Azriel hasn’t arrived yet. 

“Y-you…” He’s here. 

You can feel him. 

He’s just beneath your fingers, holding you together.

“Azriel…”

Fierce, familiar hands brace the front of your ribcage, ever so gently pushing you to a distance where your eyes can meet. 

Quiet spreads light through the air, time falling away as he engulfs your world. His gaze is grounding, hauling you out from your mind, soul spreading swift through your limbs now it’s been dragged, timid, from your skull.

“You saved me…” You breathe, at last having the sense to push tears from your eyes. “You… You-…” 

His eyes soften, stroking your sides, a small, disarming smile gentling the edges of his mouth. One hand lifts to cup your cheek, securing your gaze. “I never thought it would be you in need of saving,” he murmurs, eyes twinkling. 

It’s beyond you how he can manage such kindness in a moment like this. How he can be so patient, and forgiving despite the terror in your veins. 

A laugh cracks from your lips, hurried, and more than a little frantic. “Guess I owe you,” you force out, hands trembling, forcing yourself to swallow the fear lodged in your throat. 

It doesn’t budge. 

His eyes glitter like black diamonds. Shining coal. Spilled ink. 

Amusement plies his lips into a slow smile, teeth hidden in his mouth. “Promise?” 

You heave down another breath, trying to swallow past the lump blocking your oesophagus. 

You try to laugh. Try to roll your eyes at his teasing. 

It’s no help to your nerves, how much he’s touching you. So delicately. Like you’re something sweet and fragile. 

It’s making you want him to reach his fingers in, and peel back your petals. Flourish with colour and pollen, and tempt him closer. Find out just how sweet your centre is. 

For a moment you forget about bargains. Forget about deals, and the magic that leaks from your mouths.

Somehow. 

You manage a shaking smile, “I promise.” 

Pain stamps itself on your back, a billion needles swiftly pricking your skin, seeping ink inside before withdrawing, leaving your flesh poked and seething. 

Stupid, stupid decision. 

Azriel’s pupils expand, then breath is fluttering from his lungs, offering a breathless smile before resting his brow on your shoulder. Relief clears his scent of its remaining tension. Tension you had presumed was the symptom of the serpent. 

He’s murmuring something. Murmuring something too soft for you to hear. His mouth brushes your skin in the same pattern over and over. Repeating endlessly. 

His shoulders slump, wings turning lax and you’re once again confronted with the violence of his care. The gaping throat, raw and crusting in places. 

Your fingers shake as you clutch onto him. His fingers stroke the sides of your waist, meandering across your back, exploring the curve of your shoulders and tracing up the nape of your neck. His fingers are free and wandering, traveling with a curiosity and greed he’s never once acted on. Those fingers sink into your muddy hair, and he lifts his head to gaze at you, close enough to feel breath against your still mouth. Close enough the tip of his nose brushes your own. Close enough his lashes send a fluttering breath ghosting your cheek when he blinks. 

“Accept it,” he whispers. “Accept me.” 

You blink, not understanding his words, periphery coming into view again. 

“Accept…?” You whisper, scanning his face. “Accept what?” 

“Me.” He breathes. “Our… The bond.” 

You blink, body pausing, “…what?” 

He swallows, shifting your body in his arms—so delicate; you’re so fragile. “There’s one between us. I can feel it. I’ve felt it for years.”

“A…” You don’t know what to say.

“A mating bond,” he whispers, “for us.” 

Your skin cools, remembering parchment shoved through your letter box, riddled with carefully curled letters, sketched in bloody red ink. Delicate and beautifully scrawled—years of practice to perfect the jagged kicks in his fried nerves. 

A bouquet left on your kitchen table, found after a long night out, coming back to a locked door that must have been tampered with while you were away. 

Torn pages slid between the iron of your windows, trapped between the panes, containing short passages from stories you sometimes recognise. Passages you love; passages you’ve never read before; passages that make your hairs stand on end. 

“…You…?” 

You stare at him. Breath trembling. 

It’s him? 

It can’t be. 

But his eyes show a hunger you’ve never seen in him before. 

At least not one you’ve noticed. 

“You don’t have to stay,” he whispers, voice hoarse, and it’s real. It’s him. 

“I won’t force you into anything,” he swears, attention briefly dropping to your mouth, then lifting back to your eyes. He swallows. “Except this. This is it. …It’s all I want.” 

“You…” you stammer, lungs panicking. “You- You sent the letters. The notes.” 

He nods. 

“You left the flowers? The pages?” He nods. 

You stare at him. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

It’s softer than a whisper. 

Revulsion fills his eyes. He looks away. “I’d never…” His throat rolls. You hear it move. “I wouldn’t do that to you. It’s not your…” He looks back at you, and your heart stutters. “I’ll deal with it. You don’t have to… I’ll keep out of Velaris. I’m leaving you alone. It’s not your problem.” 

Fear filters through your blood. Panic slipped into your drink. 

“Accept it,” he repeats. 

His eyes are imploring. Intense. A gravitational pull all to themselves. 

Words catch in your throat. “I don’t know how.” 

His features pale. Hands stiffening. Fingers falling away from your hair; your skin. 

“Please…” His breathless plea’s not directed at you. 

“Don’t disappear,” you choke out, sinking fingers into his hair, smearing crusted mud against the crest of his cheek, flecks of blood flaking away. 

“You should’ve-” Told me. 

“Why didn’t you-” Tell me. 

“Please-” Don’t leave me. Don’t be so cruel to yourself. 

You kilter into him, and his eyes widen, arms catching you as his back hits the serpent’s dead scales. Blood pumps out into the mud, and your knees and hands mix it well as you struggle over him, struggle to pin him down so he won’t leave, struggle to correctly find his mouth amidst the panic. 

A sound catches in his throat as your wet fingers splay across his shoulders, mouth pushing down atop his own. 

You taste him, swipe across his lips, pry him apart with your teeth and tongue. 

You recall the hunger in his eyes, the desire he had. For you. 

His hands shake, then they’re gripping your waist, slow at first, then rough, slipping beneath your top, spreading muck and blood up your bare back. Overhead the clouds converge, dark and heavy and ripe with rain, the first few droplets spitting onto the serpent’s scales; wetting the dried dirt on his cheek; cooling the burning heat of your skin. 

Azriel’s wings shift, readjusting himself in the mud, sitting upright so you’re over his lap, knees deep in the mud either side his hips, and he’s hungry again. All over again. Fingers creeping and crawling while your own stroke and squeeze, pushing your mouths so close together there’s no room for fresh air. 

You pull away panting, clutching back to one another before you’ve reset, and the rain falls heavier, pittering into already gathering puddles. His mouth is hot and everywhere, and your lungs burn but you’ve never been so desperate and starving with the solution already before you.

Water streaks down your back, soaking your clothes, wind whipping at wet linen as the trees hiss, rain pelting his wings that flare then draw in close, shielding from the slanting rain. 

You’re coming undone. 

————

Her mouth is persuasive in a way even his own twisted imagination couldn’t comprehend. Luring him in, seducing him, convincing him she wants him. 

It can’t be true. 

He’s spent so long convincing himself otherwise, wallowing in freezing misery and endless hunger that having her on top of him, open-mouthed and touching seems impossible. He wouldn’t have made the effort to lure the serpent so far from it’s home if he’d believed he had a chance. Wouldn’t have aggravated it so it would chase the first scent it caught. Wouldn’t have hounded her with notes and love letters detailing the affection he wished he could give her. 

But she’s here, a weight in his lap, a pushing heat against his skin that soothes every place she touches. A single, mellow flame stolen from the sun, coddled by darkness and brought down overnight just so he can drink her in and warm his hands without fear of burns. 

The bond glitters in his chest, pulsing like a river preparing to flood its banks. Brimming with molten gold searing at the dam blocking its path. 

His hands grip her waist, lifting her so they can be equal on their knees, so his arm can push at her spine so she can push into him, front flush to his chest and when their mouths collide again, the dam dissolves. 

Nails rake through his hair, clawing at his shirt as her body noticeably heats, her legs shaking in the cocoon of darkness they’re sharing, the roaring of the wind kept far enough at bay he can hear when she whispers, “the bond… I can feel it.” 

Azriel feels it too. Feels the pent up pressure finally release, met with surging waters that hiss and boil on contact, rising to share temperature. 

Never did he think he’d experience the relief of mutual adoration. 

Never did he think the Mother would deem him worthy of love. 

Maybe she doesn’t. 

But the female on top of him—his mate… In her eyes, he’s worthy.

~~~~~~~~

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover @mrsjna @acoazlove