Chapter 103: A Death of a Thousand Cuts

Seraphel

it all happened so fast. One minute Sylven was on the ground and the next, he was lunging at me and Azriel had blocked it for me.

The sharp blade drove directly through the center of his palm, blood spurting from the exit wound on the back of his hand.

​At the exact same instant, Azriel’s free arm wrapped securely around my waist, pulling me against his chest and locking me safely behind his massive frame.

​Time seemed to freeze.

​My heart hammered frantically against my ribs as I stared at the back of Azriel’s head, then down at his hand. Blood pooled around the embedded steel, dripping slowly onto the floor between us.

Yet, when Azriel turned his head slightly to look back at me, he was smiling, completely unfazed by the weapon impaling his flesh.

​"Az... Azriel..." my voice trembled, my hands clutching blindly at his robes.

​"I warned you, Seraphel..." he said softly, his voice a smooth purr despite the blade through his palm. "Empathy is a dangerous flaw."

​With a flick of his uninjured wrist, a wave of red light erupted from his fingertips.

The force struck Slyven dead-on, blasting him backward through the air.

Malachi and two armored guards caught him mid-fall, slamming him face-first onto the marble right before Lumiel’s feet.

​"Azriel, your hand!" I gasped, my voice shaking as I stared at the thick blood coating his fingers.

​Azriel merely grinned down at me. With a casual flick of his wrist, he pulled the dagger straight out from his palm and dropped it carelessly to the floor.

The metal clattered against the stone, and before my eyes, the deep, gashing wound began to knit itself back together, black smoke rising as the skin sealed shut without leaving so much as a scar.

​My panic subsided into a foolish realization. Right. He is a Sin. The Prince of Lust, the second deadliest sin. A small blade wound meant nothing to him.

​And yet... my chest still ached with fear. He had stepped directly into the path of the blade without a second thought. He had protected me.

what if it was something that wouldn’t heal?

​"Why?" I demanded softly, staring up at his dark eyes. "Why would you throw yourself in front of a blade for me?"

​"And what manner of person would I be if I allowed a rat to strike you in my presence?" Azriel murmured, reaching out with his healed hand to gently brush a loose strand of hair from my forehead. "You are my mate. I will burn down entire realms to keep you safe."

​The word mate echoed in my mind, making my pulse race. I wanted to ask him right then—to demand if this protection was truly for me, or if he was simply guarding the vessel carrying his child.

​"I didn’t do it! I swear I didn’t do it!" Slyven’s panicked wails cut through my thoughts.

​Azriel shifted his stance, stepping slightly to the side so I could see down into the hall, his voice suddenly expanding with the terrifying weight of absolute authority.

​"This is the Hall of Justice, and all who stand before this throne shall receive their due!" Azriel’s voice boomed across the vast chamber, rattling the stone pillars and making the very air vibrate. "Slyven of the House of Maltinea has committed high treason by attempting the assassination of the Crown Princess and the imperial heir! As the Prince of Katula, I hereby sentence him to a death of a thousand cuts! Furthermore, every living member of his bloodline shall be hunted down and put to the sword! Let this serve as a warning to every soul within these walls—whoever dares lay a finger upon Seraphel shall be erased so thoroughly that even the memory of their existence shall wither into ash!"

​A death of a thousand cuts. The words sent a cold dread pooling in my stomach.

​"You would do well to avert your eyes, my lotus," Azriel muttered, stepping back in front of me to block my view. "My brother’s methods are not something your gentle heart should witness."

​"No," I whispered, pushing his arm aside in protest as I forced myself to look down.

​Down in the center of the hall, Lumiel casually raised a single gloved finger. Slyven’s screaming body floated into the air before Lumiel dropped his hand, slamming him violently back down onto the stone with a sickening thud.

​Lumiel twirled his hand in a slow circle. Instantly, the air hummed as thousands of spectral, razor-sharp blades manifested out of thin air, circling the hall like a storm of steel. With a single gesture, the cloud of swords condensed, descending upon Slyven in a blinding, relentless torrent.

​"I didn’t do it! I didn’t—" Slyven continued to scream.

​The rain of blades struck all at once. The sound of tearing flesh and shattering bone echoed through the massive chamber, accompanied by a heavy spray of blood that painted the white marble floors red.

​I winced, closing my eyes tight against the brutal sight.

​Before the horror could completely overwhelm me, warm, heavy hands gently cupped the sides of my head, pulling my face directly into the firm center of Azriel’s chest.

His familiar, intoxicating scent enveloped me, drowning out the iron smell of fresh blood filling the room.

​"He received the end he earned," Azriel whispered into my hair, his fingers gently rubbing the back of my neck to soothe my trembling frame. "And anyone else who dares seek your ruin will meet the exact same end."

​A death of a thousand cuts. It was a horrific, barbaric fate, and the thought that someone had suffered it because of me made my stomach churn.

​Yet, as I listened to the steady, powerful beat of Azriel’s heart against my ear, one lingering thought remained trapped in my mind.

​Slyven was guilty of many things... but I still believed he had not acted alone.

And the enemies would strike again.