A Rejected Wolf and a Court of Ash (Eden and Azriel) novel Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Eden

5.22%–

38

It feels like I’m sitting inside a coffin. The last time I sank into Azriel’s expensive seat, I had a crush on him. Now I’m terrified because I know what he is.

Dangerous.

Azriel rests his hand on the steering wheel, grinning like he knows exactly how close I am to bolting through the passenger door and running into traffic. “Settle in, Eden. I drive fast. But I promise not to crash…unless you annoy me.”

I snort, unable to help it. I guess this is what happens after you’ve witnessed your old Alpha murder your mother: you become too jaded to be afraid. So why not take it a step further and give him some sass?

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

Who gives a crap about being nervous when I’m already dead?

“Why not both?” Azriel slides his sunglasses down his nose just enough to hit me with that violet stare. “I enjoy keeping people on their toes. Makes my car journeys less excruciating.”

“Pretty sure being in a car with you is already hellish enough,” I mutter, buckling my seatbelt with hands that only shake a little.

He flicks the ignition with a lazy flick of his wrist, like he’s bored by physics itself. The engine revs up in a low growl that fits him way too well. “I could enchant the seatbelt to strangle you if you find this too hellish.”

I shoot him a look out of sheer nerve, or maybe I just don’t care anymore. “Charming. Is this your usual approach with women? Or just the ones you’re planning to feed to your sister?”

He laughs and accelerates so fast that my stomach hits my spine. “Only the special ones.”

“Oh great,” I mutter under my breath, clinging to the door handle for dear life. “I always dreamed of being someone’s ‘special‘ blood sacrifice.”

Azriel glances at me sideways, lips curling in amusement. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re more interesting than most mortals I’ve met in centuries.”

“Flattery from my soon–to–be murderer. That’s new.” My voice comes out dry, but there’s terror prickling under my skin. Azriel drives like a madman.

He shrugs, one hand drumming on the steering wheel. “Mortality keeps things interesting. People who know their days are numbered have the best taste in music, art…rebellion.” Another smirk. “Desperation to stay alive looks good on you.”

“Well, get used to it,” I say tightly, staring at his perfect profile. Even if I hate him right now, I find peace in his beauty… and looking anywhere else means hurling up Elvira’s mom’s pancakes since this man can’t drive.

“No need for dramatics.” He takes off his sunglasses and fixes me with another one of those heavy–lidded stares that make me both want to punch and kiss him. Gorgeous bastard. “If it makes you feel better, I think most omegas would cry by now.”

“If it makes you feel better,” I snap back, “I’m about five seconds away from biting you.”

Azriel laughs again. It sounds genuinely delighted this time and I watch in horror as he takes one hand off the wheel to give me a look.

I shriek. “Stop driving like we’re immortals!”

1/3

10:22 Mon, 23 Jun

Chapter 13

“I AM immortal!”

“But I’m not! Grab the fucking wheel!”

There’s more laughter as he obediently grabs the wheel with both hands. “Better?”

Butterflies swarm my insides at the charming face he is giving me, which angers me.

This guy is going to murder you. Stop crushing on him!

༨ ༢ ༡༡.

I avert my eyes, those butterflies replaced with bitterness that settle like lead in my stomach. “I hope your sister enjoys eating moody werewolves…”

He tilts his head at me, bemused and dangerous all at once. “Oh, she’ll love you.” He pauses by a red light, finger tracing circles along the rim of the steering wheel while traffic blurs past us. “Almost as much as I do.”

There it is: goosebumps everywhere.

“Is this where you try to be menacing?” I ask quietly.

38

He leans over, close enough for me to smell the cedarwood on him. “No,” Azriel murmurs coolly, those lips curling up like we are sharing some cosmic joke only he gets. “This is where I remind you there are far worse fates than being interesting to a fairy.”

I roll my eyes so hard they might stick there forever. “Lucky me.”

He flashes one last grin then guns it through a yellow light without even blinking.

“Buckle up, Eden,” Azriel drawls. “With me in your life, you’re in for one hell of a ride.”

I grip the door handle so hard my knuckles pop. “You know, I read somewhere that fairies are supposed to like music and flowers. Not near–death experiences at every traffic light.”

Azriel just grins wider, ignoring a speed limit sign with the casual disdain of someone who’s never had to worry about traffic tickets. “We like a lot of things,” he says. “I’m not like other fairies, though. I prefer the human realm. Flowers and dressing yourself in dead animal pelts are overrated. I prefer driving fast cars and giving mortals something to remember me by. Like a little whiplash.”

“Fantastic,” I mutter. “Can’t wait for mine to hit.”

Azriel snickers, and I brace myself when he takes a corner hard enough to make the seatbelt dig into my collarbone. “Do you drive like this with all your victims, or am I just lucky?”

He smirks at the road. “Most of my victims don’t get chauffeured to school.”

“So what makes me special?”

Azriel takes the next corner like he’s aiming for a dramatic car commercial, which makes my breakfast threaten a comeback. “What makes you special?” he echoes, tapping his thumb on the gearshift. “Well, let’s see. You haven’t cried yet, you mouth off to a fae, and you have this impressive talent for looking like you’d rather chew glass than sit next to me.”

I glare at him. “Thanks, I’ll put that on my resumé. Skilled at not crying in front of homicidal fairies and tolerating bad driving”

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