Am I attracted to Sadie? Yes. Would I risk my life so she could have one more breath than me? Yes. Even though I’d imagine she would use her last breath to belittle the enemy.
What made me propose this bond to a mortal? Something so fucking fragile… Maybe because I just knew if something happened to her, it would affect Layla, my Queen. Proposing a bond would make Sadie immortal, protecting her from illness and aging, but it doesn’t protect her from being murdered or suffering serious life-threatening wounds. It doesn’t stop the nightmares. It doesn’t stop the overwhelming dread that if she dies, I will feel it, and it will tear me apart piece by piece.
Maybe this was my part in keeping Layla happy and comfortable. Maybe this was my duty as her loyal companion, her protector. Maybe I was selfish. Maybe I just couldn’t bear the thought of Sadie slipping away from this world, leaving a void I would never be able to fill.
Fuck, Layla.
Where are you?
Once Azrael’s bond sealed with her, it’s like something shifted in the Underworld. Like something snapped perfectly in place, and now we have this undeniable urge to protect Layla, to keep her happy. It’s more than instinct. It’s like gravity itself shifted, and she became the center of everything. I think the hierarchy of the Underworld changed.
I think she is the new ruler, and she has complete control over us all. Not by force, not by dominance, but by something far more powerful—something deeper. We belong to her. Every ounce of my being tells me to keep her safe, to stand beside her, to fight for her.
And Sadie…
Sadie is tied to me now. Whether I meant for it to be this way or not, she is mine to protect. Mine to fight for. And when I tell her what’s happened—when I see the grief in her eyes, when I feel her pain crash into me through our bond—will she ever forgive me for waiting? For hesitating? For being a coward when she needed me to be strong?
Is this what Hades was trying to prevent this entire time? He knew he would become nothing but ash, but now I fear his safety is limited.
No. His safety is nonexistent. Because if Layla doesn’t kill him, Azrael will. And if Azrael doesn’t… I might just do it myself. Word is spreading fast that Azrael is the sole reason there’s war and turmoil in a realm that once existed in somewhat peace—if you weren’t tangled in the Underworld Government’s corruption. And somehow, somehow, I’ve been dragged into the chaos.
Azrael. You beautiful dumbass.
Centuries apart—no contact, no letters, no visits—and now, when we’re finally in the same place, it’s like we’re rubbing two brain cells together, running on the same damn wavelength. A reckless, impulsive, destructive wavelength. Stupid fool.
I roll my eyes as I watch him reach for my front door knob. He’s been silent since Lydia talked him down from killing Hades. No outbursts, no snarled threats, not even a sarcastic quip from Orcus. It’s eerie.
And I can’t imagine the storm inside his head right now.
Layla is everything to him. That’s what this boils down to. Losing her—knowing she’s suffering in the Empty and that he wasn’t strong enough to stop it—must be wrecking him. And there’s nothing I can do to fix that.
Just like there’s nothing I can do to fix this mistake with Sadie.
I told myself I did it for Layla. That forming this bond with Sadie was for her protection, to make sure Layla always had her best friend by her side. But the more time passes, the more that excuse feels like a fragile lie.
Because the truth?
The truth is, the second I walked away to find Lydia, something inside me broke. The distance from Sadie was unbearable, like my bones were hollowing out, my nerves stripped raw. I was short-fused, ready to rip anyone apart just to get back to her.
Lydia saw it for what it was. The bond taking hold. And now? Now I don’t know if I made the biggest mistake of my existence—or if I sealed my own fate. Sadie bursts from the dining room like a force of nature, her wild curls bouncing, her eyes burning with something fierce. And before I can think, before I can even breathe, she throws herself into me, her arms locking around my waist.
And then she kisses me.
Hard. Desperate. Like she’s been waiting just as impatiently as I have. Like she needed this.
And fuck—so did I.
I return the kiss, gripping her tighter, letting her swallow my regrets before I can speak them into existence. This bond isn’t just serious—it’s consuming. Maybe I should have thought it through more before proposing something this permanent.
Or maybe… maybe I can learn to love her.
I glance over Sadie’s thick figure, the swell of her breasts, the intoxicating scent of her arousal in the air. For fuck’s sake.
I’ve been with plenty of women before. Mortal. Immortal. Warriors. Aristocrats. It never turned into anything serious because, allegedly, I’m an arrogant asshole.
But then there’s her.
This woman who devours me every chance she gets, who looks at me like I hung the fucking moon. Who worships the ground I walk on without me ever asking.
Is this why so many supernatural males prefer mortal women? Is this why they abandon the hardened warriors of our kind for something softer?
Because to mortals—we are gods?
Fuck.
If nothing else, at least Sadie makes a great pet. But if I don’t figure out how to rein in these emotions fast, I’m going to be in a hell of a lot of trouble.
“Where is Layla?” Sadie’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. Her gaze flickers between the three of us—four, if you count Orcus, who’s been unusually quiet.
The air shifts. Heavy. Suffocating. Azrael radiates pure, unfiltered rage, his body vibrating with barely restrained fury—until Lydia places a firm hand on his shoulder. It’s the only thing tethering him to sanity.
“We don’t know,” he finally mutters, his voice like gravel.
Sadie takes a step back, her brows knitting together. “What do you mean, you don’t know?” Her voice trembles, but not from fear—pure disbelief. She looks around frantically. “Where’s Vassago?”
Azrael doesn’t answer. He just pushes past us, storming down the hall toward his room, and I don’t stop him. I can’t. Because how the fuck is he supposed to deal with this?
He wanted the mating bond. Chose it. And barely twenty-four hours into it…
He lost his mate.
Gone.
“Vassago went to find out what he can,” I say dryly, watching as Sadie’s breathing picks up. “He’s trying to learn whatever he can so we can hopefully find Layla.”
Her lips part, but nothing comes out for a long moment. Then, barely a whisper—“What do you mean? Where is Layla?” Tears pool in her eyes, but it’s not just the sight of them that undoes me—it’s the emotions slamming through the bond.
It’s too much.
A typhoon of pain, grief, panic—all of it crashing into me like a goddamn tidal wave. I try to push it back, but I might as well be holding up a fucking umbrella in a hurricane.
I grit my teeth, digging my nails into my palm, bracing for the inevitable explosion of raw mortal emotion.
And then, suddenly—
I want to kill Azrael.
For not doing enough.
For breaking his fucking promise.
For failing to protect Layla.
I shake the thoughts away, swallowing down the emotions before they eat me alive.
“Memetim set a trap.” My voice is tight, my throat dry. “She attacked Layla and before Azrael could get to her… Layla’s body just—disappeared.”
Sadie flinches like I slapped her. “What do you mean, disappeared?”
I exhale through my nose, trying to keep my voice even. “We don’t know, Sadie. But we will figure it out. And we will find her.”
I expect her to break down, to cry, to sink into me for comfort like before. But instead, she locks her gaze onto mine, and I feel the shift.
The anger. The betrayal. The way her grief mutates into something sharp and deadly.
And suddenly, all that rage she had for Azrael?
Now it’s aimed at me.
And I have no fucking clue what I did wrong.