A Rejected Wolf and a Court of Ash (Eden and Azriel) novel Chapter 82

Eden

I wake in silence.

There is no soft light, no birdsong, no scent of pine or snow. Only stillness. My body aches. Sharp in some places, dull in others. But I’m alive. That should be enough.

It isn’t.

Where the heck am I? This bed is too large. Sheets like spiderwebs. They smell…lavender? There’s also this puffy pillow cradling my head, but I don’t remember lying down. I don’t remember anything after Azriel….

Azriel.

The memories flood in. Axel, broken and bleeding. Elvira’s body slamming into a tree. Mara standing over me with her magic curling like smoke. And Azriel, descending from the sky like judgment itself.

I sit up too fast. Pain flares behind my eyes. My shoulder is bandaged. The wrappings glow faintly with runes, pulsing to the beat of my heart.

Where am I?

The room is cavernous. The ceilings arch so high they vanish into shadow. Walls shimmer with obsidian streaked in veins of violet light. There are no windows. Only a balcony with a curtain that sways despite the still air.

…is this Mara’s mansion?

I slip from the bed. My feet touch cold marble. My knees buckle. But I catch myself. I’m wearing a soft, black robe. Foreign. Unfamiliar. Definitely not mine.

I don’t like this.

The door creaks open before I can touch it. It moves on its own, groaning in my ears. Beyond it, a hallway stretches out. Quiet. Empty. Silent in the way old cathedrals are silent.

I step into the hall.

Each step echoes. The walls are lined with purple glowing symbols. Azriel’s magic.

I pass a mirror. My reflection stops me:

My red hair is down. My freckled face pale. Nine tails gone. But my eyes… my eyes are alive with this inner glow.

What did he do to me?

I start to walk faster. My fingers trail along the walls. They pulse like they have their own heartbeat, as though the palace itself is alive.

I run down a spiral staircase. Doors line the hallway, but none open. Until one does. On its own. A room made of glass and shadow. Inside it is a normal library…almost. The books float. The shelves breathe.

There’s a single book laid out on a pedestal in the center.

My name is on the cover.

I don’t read it.

Irun.

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Chapter 82

Down more stairs. Through more doors. Until I reach what looks like art entrance.

But there is no door.

Just more obsidian. Unbroken. Sealed.

The realization hits like a punch to the gut.

I’m not in a palace.

I’m in a cage!

A beautiful, enchanted, inescapable cage.

And I know who built it.

He appears without warning,

Azriel.

He doesn’t look surprised. No. This is a man who has been waiting for me. His arms are crossed. His wings relaxed. But he isn’t casual. No, there’s nothing casual about the way his power coils around him, leaking into the air like smoke from a forge.

He is…stronger. Much stronger than he has ever been. His presence makes the floor vibrate, like the entire realm is bowing to his magic.

“You’re awake,” he says softly.

I don’t speak. My hands curl into fists.

“Thealed you,” he adds, as if talking is going to make me forget that he has brought me to some dreamy land prison. “You wouldn’t stop bleeding.”

“I didn’t ask you to heal me,” I whisper.

He tilts his head, raven–like. “I didn’t need your permission.”

I swallow. “Where are we?”

“My court.”

“The Court of Ash?”

He nods.

“You rebuilt it?”

“No. I created it. Mara corrupted the Dream Court and turned it into the Nightmare Court. I erased it. Created something new. The Court of Ash. This is

mine now.”

I look around. The palace hums, a dark, pulsing thing that exists because he wills it.

“And I’m your prisoner?”

He doesn’t flinch. “You’re my mate.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You’re not strong enough to leave. Not yet.”

“Not yet?” I growl, raising my voice. “So you’re keeping me here? Against my will?”

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Chapter 82

“I’m protecting you,” he says simply. “The last time you were left alone, you almost died. I won’t let that happen arain

“You don’t get to decide that, Azriel. You don’t get to steal me away and build a dream fake kingdom to trap is in just because you think i’m th

the real world!”

The shadows under his feet spin around in a circle, like they’re reacting to a threat.

“I lost you once,” he says, his voice shaking now. “I watched your blood stain the snow. I watched you stop breathing”

“And?”

His eyes darken. “So I did what had to be done.”

I narrow my eyes. “What does that mean?”

Azriel is silent.

Then he whispers, “I ate her heart.”

The air stills.

“You… what?”

“Mara. After I killed her. I didn’t just dispose of her. I consumed her heart to take her magic. Made it mine.”

My stomach turns. “Why?”

His gaze meets mine, unflinching. “So that no one, and I mean no one, can ever touch you again.”

The room tilts.

He steps forward. “She wasn’t the end, Eden. There are others. Old gods, banished monsters, corrupted fae. And they all want you. Because of your power. Because of who you were. Who you are and what you are.”

“So you made yourself a monster to protect me?”

“I made myself a god,” he corrects.

I take a step back. “You sound insane.”

He smiles, and it breaks my heart a little. Because it’s not cruel, It’s not angry. It’s wounded.

“Maybe I am. But you’re alive.”

“I’m not sure that justifies what you’ve become.”

He steps closer. “You still love me.”

My answer is a hiss. “I don’t even know who you are anymore!”

He stops inches from me, and magic pours out. His shadows curl around my waist like snakes. Not crushing me. Waiting. Touching. Like they need to hear their master tell them what to do.

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