Azazeal's gaze was cold and stoic. But his insides were melting as he stared down at his mate.
Her skin glistened under the moonlight, and her ruby red lips trembled in fear even though she was putting on a brave front.
Her scent filled the air wafting into his nostrils making him delirious, he was in awe of her entire existence
She was beautiful. Too beautiful. Ethereal under the moonlight, her pale skin glowing like the finest pearl, the wild dark waves of hair flowed gently as the wind blew them.
Even with the arrow she held aimed at him, she seemed more like a beautiful vision than a threat.
His thoughts drove him up the wall and his yearning burned in his chest.
He had never seen anyone so beautiful, so delicate.
And immediately, he figured out that he didn't deserve someone like her. He was a creature of darkness, bloodshed, and violence, while she was light, peace, and all he could never imagine to be.
But despite all that, his wolf claimed her fervently. Anax growled possessively from his insides.
*Mine.*
"My treasure" he whispered, the words slipping past his lips before he could overthink.
That's what she is.
She was his treasure.
Azazeal took a step closer and she immediately took a step back.
The raw scent of her spiking fear hit him, and his excitement dwindled at the feeling.
Of course, someone like him scared a delicate little human like her.
For the first time in his life, Azazeal wished he didn't look so imposing and scary.
He was used to his wolfkind and the few humans he occasionally met trembling in his presence, but he hated making his beautiful mate cower in front of him.
It made an unfamiliar ache stab his heart
Her tiny shaking frame stirred a deep protectiveness within him. She looked utterly out of place in his world, but he could never dream of letting go.
A deep frown crossed his face as a thought crossed his mind.
What was she doing outside the castle this late? Unprotected? What in Luna's name was she doing out here alone in the dark?
His fists clenched as his thoughts ran wild.
She could've actually been in danger at this moment, but she was alone with no guard in sight.
How didn't she manage to get her without supervision?
His mind suddenly clicked with a thought. Was she trying to escape my castle?
He moved closer and a strangled noise escaped her lips out of fear.
But before Azazeal could do anything, a sudden wild neigh from a horse nearby halted him.
He turned to see Midnight—his most prized stallion—emerging from the deep shadows of the large trees running towards them as if it just sensed the king's presence.
To Azazeal's surprise, Midnight thundered in front of him to stand between them, shielding the woman with its formidable bulk.
Azazeal's brows furrowed.
Midnight had never rebelled against him before. This beast was combat-trained, a warhorse that even his bravest soldiers could not mount. And yet here it was — protecting his mate.
She brushed a hand along Midnight's side, her voice gentle and soothing.
"It's fine, boy… don't be afraid."
Midnight stomped his hooves, bumping her protectively, as if Azazeal was a danger he was protecting her from.
Azazeal clenched his fists.
The horse simply neighed louder, much to the woman's surprise, who stumbled back with a gasp. She fell onto the soft grass, a small cry escaping her lips as she curled up, Midnight holding his ground.
Azazeal's frown deepened, his hands reaching for her immediately pulling her up in his strong arms.
He pulls her closer, the more she struggles, the more his arms tighten around her.
Tingles ran through his whole spine, and he wondered if she could feel them too.
But before he could process properly, her soft panicked voice reached his ears.
"Unhand me now you brute, I'm your queen. "
He only stared at her, her scent driving him crazy,
" Are you deaf? I swear if you don't get your hands off me you will regret ever crossing me ."
Elora's heart raced, she couldn't see the face of the person holding her, his head was covered with a dark cape.
It didn't matter, the man oozed of immense danger and coldness. His towering height alone scared her.
Why in the goddess's name did I choose to escape the castle grounds tonight when this lunatic is roaming free?
It's bad enough that nobody in the castle knew of her midnight trysts.
Now she has to escape the arms of a scary stranger.
Her knees raised to hit him in his groin, but as if he'd predicted her move, her spun her around and her back hit the tree as he caged her in his arms.
His movements were oddly careful as if he didn't want to hurt her.
Their breaths mingled in the cold night.
Her chest rose and fell in sharp breaths while he calmly leaned into her further.
His cape had shifted down a little and she looked up to stormy grey eyes staring down at her quietly.
He kept watching her as if he wanted to commit her face to his memory, which unnerved her.
His eyes were hypnotizing and something about them felt… familiar.
But Elora was too scared to care.
Before she could burst into tears like she wanted to, hooves thundered in the distance.
"Your Highness!" a voice called out.
Azazeal swiveled his head, just in time to glimpse Casteel galloping toward them, full speed.
He felt the woman tense in his grip. And then, much to his complete dismay, she struggled further to set herself free, stepping back from his arms just as Casteel arrived.
"Queen Elora!" Casteel cried her name in relief, his brown eyes darting between her and the king.
"Are you alright?"
" Casteel!" She whispered, jerking her hands from the brute in front of her as she immediately ran to meet the knight.
Azazeal definitely didn't miss how Elora instantly hid behind Casteel, clinging to his sleeve like he was her lifeline.
The air sharpened turning colder and heavier.
The expression of the wolf king darkened.
His wife should be next to him instead.
A dangerously low growl erupted from his throat, the crimson ring in his iris becoming more prominent.
His wolf was now restless at the sight of his mate relying on another man
He hardly heard what Casteel said as he focused on taking deep breaths.
Casteel already sensing the agitation of Anax, and Azazeal's loosening control lets out a nervous laugh releasing himself from Elora's grip.
"You don't have to be afraid of your own husband, Queen Elora" Casteel whispered, tilting his chin toward Azazeal.
Azazeal's gaze shot to Elora just as the color drained from her face
Elora felt blood rush towards her head, and her free hand that was not holding the arrow gripped the fabric of her cloak, her breath escaping her lips too fast and too shallow.
Husband?