A day passed.
A glorious, blessedly quiet day. Azrael finally felt… free. Free from the immediate threat of being eaten, free from the constant, nerve-shredding tension, free from the suffocating, passive-aggressive company of his teammates.
He had arrived back at the Holloway mansion this morning.
And it was the weekend.
Finally, blissfully, mercifully he could relax.
He lay sprawled on the soft bed in his room, staring up at the ceiling, letting the exhaustion seep out of his bones.
He recalled yesterday's mess – the chaos in the forest, Selyne's terrifying, blood-fueled power surge, the Orc Queen's dying, possessive gaze and his own near-death number… well, he'd honestly lost count. It was becoming a recurring theme.
Just as a comfortable drowsiness began to settle over him, his peace was shattered, the door to his room burst open without warning.
BAM!
He jolted upright, pure panic flaring in his chest.
