Collapsing to my knees, I took in a sharp inhale as my world teetered. The ground was harsh; the fall rattling my teeth like the cartoons. My vision swayed, and I closed them to take calming breaths, coughing slightly. I didn't open them until I was sure I wouldn't throw up from the weird rollercoaster ride.

A wooden floor with plastered, decorated walls. There were curtains across the window, and upon further exploration, a forest beyond the windowpanes.

"So, how was it?"

I jumped, spinning around to find him.

Azriel was behind me, an expectant grin on his face. He was still here, and the world was horrible again.

"Awful." I muttered.

He guffawed, clapping his hands. "Shall we clean up?"

I warily glanced at him, not trusting his kindness. He may have got me out of the cell my mate put me inside, but he was also behind a well-secured one. He was also covered in blood and stank of malice, and from what I read in his father's journal; a man too prideful and cowardice.

I swallowed, my lips parting, but no words escaping. Azriel laughed, shaking his head. He came closer, wrapping his hand around my arm and pulling me along behind him. I awkwardly followed, taking in the homely approach of this house.

Where were we?

"Here." Azriel pulled us to a stop. "Bathroom."

Looking around him, I took notice of the quaint bathroom. A toilet, sink and shower the length of the wall, it was enough.

"Stay here, I will get towels." He warned.

My stomach flipped, and I nodded mutely. What would he do if I ran?

Would he hurt me?

He hadn't so far.

Just creeped me out.

Before I could shift my weight to turn, Azriel reappeared, a bunch of towels in his hands.

"Right, go in." He pushed me softly.

I stumbled, entering the small room and awkwardly standing by the toilet. In the bright light of the bathroom, I could see how grimy my skin was. I still felt the rattle in my chest when I breathed too deeply, and I had become used to the constant drizzle from my nose, which was now a recurring cold symptom.

"Are you going to clean or just stand there?"

My head snapped up at the sound of the water turning on, and I looked up to find Azriel staring expectantly at me.

"I..." I hesitated. "I am not showering with you here."

The large grin on his face dropped within a millisecond. He growled, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. He was before me in a second, grabbing my clothes and tearing them from my body. I squealed, feeling the burning of the fabric across my skin. My hands darted out, trying to grab the fabric back.

"From what I remember, you are much a nudist. Now get in." He glared.

I gulped, staring wide-eyed up at him, gobsmacked.

So rude. So blunt.

He growled again, taking my arm and pushing me into the hot stream of water. I was shaking, rattled by this man. He was watching me with lowered eyebrows, arms crossed and body tense.

Trying to keep my heart from giving up, I hesitantly placed my palm in the stream to check its temperature. It was a little too hot for my liking, and after a moment's pause, I reached forward and turned the dial. Azriel didn't speak a word, watching me with the same guarded expression.

When the water was not burning my skin, I stepped beneath it, closing my eyes. The immediate warm embrace had my shoulders sagging, my head falling down to let the water pool down my back. I sighed with relief, opening my eyes to stare at the drain. So much dirt. It was disgusting.

I looked for some soap, finding some on a shelf nearby. About to grab it, I decided against it and turned to Azriel expectantly. He nodded solemnly, the glare softening as I gestured toward the soap. Nervously filling the loofah beside it, I scrubbed the grime from my body. I may have gone a little too harshly, eager to scrap the layers of dirt off, because I re-opened a cut on my wrist.

Cursing, I glared at the blood that pooled on the surface and dribbled down the drain. The shower's pressure stung the cuts, and I frowned, pulling it away. Before my hand could settle against my chest, somebody was pulling it behind me.

I jumped, looking up through the stream to find Azriel behind me. His eyes were dark, much like Asra's when he was pissed. Azriel tutted, lifting my wrist to his face. He inhaled sharply, smirking.

"Shame to waste it." He murmured.

I frowned, confused, but then he placed my wrist to his lips and licked the blood from my skin. I jerked, trying to get my hand away, but he growled, locking my arm to his jaw. My eyes widened with horror as he held my skin to his lips. I felt the prickle of his teeth on my wrist, but he didn't bite. His tongue came again, and licked across the wound.

This was wrong, so wrong.

He breathed deeply, watching me through hooded eyes. I blinked, confused and disturbed; stunned to silence. Something covered my mind, wrapping it inside a comfy blanket.

And then...

Staring down at my wrist, I found it had healed over; the blood gone and a pink scar left in its wake.

What kind of magical powers did this man have?

I blinked, staring at my scabbed and sore other wrist in comparison.

"Thanks..." I trailed, mesmerised.

Azriel seemed to preen, staring at me hotly. I squirmed slightly, remembering that I was butt-naked in a shower. I cleared my throat, dropping my eyes to the ground. Azriel still wore his shorts, but they were now damp from the shower. The blood that once coated his pale calves swirled down the drain.

I turned, grabbing shampoo and staring to wash my hair. May as well continue before I have to get out. Hyper aware of his gaze on my back, I washed my hair twice before applying conditioner. Not once did Azriel interrupt, but stood at the end of the shower tray, waiting.

What for? I wasn't sure.

His gaze didn't burn my skin like Darius' did, but it didn't heat me up like Asra's did either. He was nonchalant, like Piper.

Who even was this guy? What did he want from me?

Reaching to turn off the shower, Azriel's hand darted out to stop me. I froze, feeling his body hover near mine. Goosebumps rose on my skin and I awkwardly dropped my hand.

"My turn." He murmured.

I apologised softly, side-stepping him to step out of the shower. I grabbed a towel, pulling it around my body.

He grunted, standing beneath the stream of water. "You don't go anywhere."

"Wh-

"Don't go anywhere." He demanded, levelling me with a hard glare.

I scratched my neck, standing on the bathmat awkwardly. He watched me intently as he showered, and this time, I did feel gross. Goosebumps pebbled my skin, and I squirmed, uncomfortable. He started with his hair; the water turning it a dark brown. When he started on his skin, he told me he was nearly done and to make sure my hair was dry enough as he didn't have a dryer.

When the shower turned off, I stopped drying my hair, wrapping the towel back around my body. I felt better hidden from his gaze, away from the power play. I was unsure what this man's intentions were.

Why was he so creepy?

Why did his moods switch so easily?

I waited by the door, avoiding looking at him as he dried his naked body. He stepped up to the vanity mirror, which was also a cupboard, and frowned at himself. His hair was still wet as he ran his hand through it.

"Do you know how to cut hair?"

"No," I lied.

His lips curled into a smile. "You do."

I frowned as he rifled through the mirrored cupboard and pulled out some scissors. I paused, nervously shaking, when he handed me the scissors.

"Since you seem to be the only one competent in this house, you can cut my hair." He demanded. "Come on."

I gulped, traipsing behind him through the hallway. "Can I change first?"

"If you must." He exhaled. "In here."

I followed him inside, finding a bedroom. I felt uneasy, glancing at the neat bed and clean floor. It was spotless in here; unlived in.

"I do not know what the fuck they have in here. It's been a decade or so." He grinned, rifling through his drawers. "Try these."

I thanked him as I took the boxers, shorts and t-shirt. He nodded, turning back to get himself something. I took my chance and pulled on the t-shirt before dropping the towel. It was long, which didn't surprise me since Azriel was so tall. The boxers came on next, and then the shorts, which I had to knot in the middle in fear of them falling down.

Also, to give me a head-start if this turned for the worse.

My damp hair irritated my neck, and I quickly scrubbed it with the towel again. I hated the wet hair on my neck.

Azriel clearing his throat had me raising my eyes to meet his. He was still shirtless, but wore something on his bare ass, at least. He gestured for me to follow him again, and I did, rather willingly.

I was curious to learn the layout of this house. Staying quiet and submissive, I fell into my past role of Darius' wife rather easily. It was the meekest form of Ailia, but it got me out of a lot of dangerous situations.

My footsteps were light, hands laced in front of me as I took in the plain wooden décor. There were a few abstract paintings, but nothing too homey.

"Is this your home?" I wondered as we stopped inside a kitchen.

"It was-it is, yes."

"Was?"

"I have not lived here for many years." He chuckled, rifling through a drawer.

"How come?" I asked.

He stopped, turning to raise an eyebrow at me. "How come?"

"Yes, why so long?" I cocked my head.

He straightened his spine, slamming the door closed. I jumped internally, but kept a straight face as he circled the dining table to stand in front of me. He had a bin bag in his hand, and for a second I wondered if he was going to suffocate me, but then he pulled out a chair and wrapped it around his shoulders.

I awkwardly stood behind him, staring down at the damp strands of hair. "Uh..."

"Just cut it." He stated.

"Okay..." I muttered.

The trust he placed in me with a weapon left me torn between feeling flattered and offended. Did he think I was so weak to not hurt him, or did he trust me that much?

I started his hair, cutting it in the familiarity of Evermore. Darius always wanted me to cut his hair; a monthly routine. My hands rifled through Azriel's hair, noticing how he almost purred at certain spots.

Snip, snip, fell his hair.

I cut it all in silence.

The scissors scaled his ear, cutting the six-inch-long strands to the hilt. I had to come around to stand before him to finish the front, bending slightly to concentrate. He did not look at me, but I was all too aware of how heavy my breaths could be.

Not much more hair to go.

"So..." I cleared my throat. "How long?"

"Persistent, aren't you?"

My eyes flashed to his to find him smirking at me, amused. I awkwardly blushed, finding so much resemblance to his brother.

"Yes."

"It's a good thing." He mused. "But my clan says around eight."

My eyes widened, snapping to his with shock. "Years?"

He chuckled. "Eight years is not a lot of time, to someone who can live a long time."

"Even so, eight years? What was your sentence?"

"Life." He shrugged. "Which is stupid since I am immortal."

"You-what?" I stammered.

Even werewolves weren't immortal. They could still be killed.

He grinned, flashing his canines at me. I stared at them, noticing the differences to his brother's. He still had four, but much like the vampire in the cells, his were thinner and longer.

"You're... You..." I swallowed, looking him in the eye.

I let this man lick my fucking wrist!

I hope he wasn't poisonous.

"Vampire, yes." He whispered. "I am half-vampire, half-wolf."

"What... But..."

"My brother did not mention that?" He teased.

"Neither did your dad." I scowled at him, snapping the scissors closed. "I'm done."

His grin dropped, all signs of amusement and teasing vanishing. He grumbled, the sound vibrating my chest from how loud it was.

"You have spoken about my father?"

"I have spoken to him, yes." I glared. "Nobody speaks freely about you. Whatever you did must not be good."

"What do they say of me?" He gritted his teeth, slowly standing.

I watched all the blonde hairs fall to the floor with his rising height as he dropped the bin bag to the ground. Standing my ground, I showed I wasn't fearful of his imposing nature.

"Nothing." I stated. "They do not speak of you at all. Nor your father. Both of you are just hushed whispers."

"I suppose that is a good thing." He grinned. "Do they know of my vampirism?"

"No. But I am assuming Asra does, right?" I cocked my head. "Otherwise, why would you be locked away?"

His grin turned harsh with malice. "Oh, there are a few reasons, Princess."

He stepped closer, and I leaned, my back pressing into the dining table. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yes."

"Care to elaborate? Bore me with a story?"

He hissed, hand darting out to grab my throat. I winced, but didn't react further, keeping my arms crossed in front of me.

"Well?" I probed.

His eyes flashed dark, threatening. "Why don't you tell me what you know?"

I rolled my eyes. "That kind of wolf magic doesn't work on me."

"Why are you the way you are?" He wondered, bending his head closer to me. "Why do you taste of human and wolf at the same time? How do you defy me?"

"I'm just special, I guess." I shrugged.

"No, no. It's not that." Azriel chuckled. "I know exactly what it is."

"You do?" I wondered. "You know more than me, then."

He grinned, his face inches from mine. "It's that blood in your veins."

My lip curled with distaste. "I could've sliced your throat with those scissors, and yet you handle me like I am a threat."

"You are not a threat right now, Princess." He breathed. "Your mate is."

"Why are you scared of your brother?"

"I am not scared." His grip tightened, and I winced. "He does not scare me. I am stronger than him."

"So why hide? Why not go kill him right now?"

"Because he is only strong because of what he has."

An eery darkness like a spider crawled down my spine, an icy chill tightening my muscles. Dread. Fear. Something hiding beneath the surface.

"And what's that?"

"You."