Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Azrael’s POV

*****

"Why did you bring me out here?" Celeste queried after they left the Crimson Expanse. "You know I’ve got to prepare for the Hybrid trial, right?"

He didn’t respond. But simultaneously, his grip on her hand never faltered as they navigated through the forest ahead. It was quiet, the noise from the Blood Trials fading the further they got.

"Are you taking me for a ritual or something?" She chuckled, tone sarcastic. "I won’t call myself the best sacrifice material though. But—hello?"

This time, she rooted her feet to the ground, yanking her hand out of his. "Can you at least say something without making me feel like I’m being kidnapped? I thought we were past this... Mysteriousness?"

Stopping in his tracks, he turned, just in time to see her pout.

Adorable.

"I simply thought," he began, taking a step closer, "we could use some quiet. After all that pretending like we weren’t staring at each other."

His hand found her shoulder, fingers tightening gently. "Don’t you think?"

Sunlight danced across her hair, highlighting the silver streaks like they were constellations made into silk.

Funny how he remembers watching her growing up. From a distance, of course. Always from a distance. He never risked getting the attention of the Bloodoak family or the powerful people they surrounded themselves with.

He would have never imagined seeing her as anything more than what she was.

A little miss. Little princess.

Then the bond came in and made him question things he hadn’t in ages.

"Uhm..." She cleared her throat suddenly. "Well, if we’re here to ’talk’ can we address why you’ve been avoiding me for six days now?"

"I haven’t—"

"Yes, you have, Azrael," Celeste sighed. "You confuse me a lot. You know?" Her eyes glinted. Innocent. Almost needy. "Ever since the bond awakened you’ve acted like you don’t want anything to do with me. Even though you clearly do."

His brows rose. "Act? You... Seem so certain."

She shrugged. "I feel your emotions through the bond. All of you. It’s scary but it gets so deep sometimes that it almost feels like—"

"—Those emotions are yours," he completed her statement, nodding. "I feel yours that way too. Every single detail, including the ones you try masking."

Celeste’s breath caught.

For a moment, she didn’t speak. She just stared at him like she was trying to decide whether to believe him—or herself.

"That’s... unfair," she said quietly. "You say things like that and expect me to just—what? Be okay with it?"

He didn’t answer immediately.

Because the truth pressed against his ribs like a blade.

"You’ve always been like this," he said before he could stop himself.

The words slipped out—instinctive and unguarded.

The moment they landed between them, he knew he’d erred.

Celeste frowned. A small, confused crease formed between her brows. "Always...?" she echoed. "What does that mean?"

Gods below.

He drew back half a step, jaw tightening. "It means," he corrected carefully, "that you feel deeply. You don’t skim the surface of things. You dive."

"That’s not what you said." Her gaze sharpened, curiosity mixing with suspicion. "You said ’always’. Like you know."

The forest seemed to hold its breath.

Azrael studied her face—the stubborn lift of her chin, the way her fingers curled slightly like she was bracing for something she couldn’t name.

Gods, she’d grown into herself beautifully.

"You notice everything," he said instead, lowering his voice. "You question. You don’t turn away from discomfort. That hasn’t changed."

"That still sounds like you’re dodging."

A faint smile tugged at his lips despite himself. "Perhaps."

She scoffed softly, but there was no humour in it. "You do this thing where you stand so close to the truth that I can almost touch it... and then you pull away."

Her voice dropped. "Why?"

’Because if I don’t, I’ll ruin you.’ he thought to himself.

But instead, he stepped closer.

Close enough that the bond flared. Close enough that he could hear her heartbeat—feel it echoing against his own ribs like it was searching for a home.

His hand lifted again, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek. The contact sent a sharp pulse through both of them.

Celeste inhaled shakily. "Azrael..."

"I stayed away," he murmured, thumb tracing the curve of her jaw, "because wanting you is dangerous."

Her lashes fluttered. "For who?"

"For everyone."

That earned a quiet laugh. "You’re impossible."

"And yet," he said softly, leaning in, "you’re still here."

She didn’t deny it. Didn’t step back.

Didn’t pretend the bond wasn’t thrumming between them like a living thing.

So... his eyes landed on her lips. And then he kissed her.

It was a kiss born of his restraint that finally snapped. His lips pressed to hers like he’d waited lifetimes, and perhaps he had. Her hands fisted into his uniform instinctively, heart racing fast enough that he felt dizzy with it.

The bond surged.

For one fragile moment, the world narrowed to her mouth, her breath, the way she melted into him as if she’d always known where she belonged—

Then everything shattered when a voice slid into his mind.

’Enough.’

Azrael stiffened violently, breaking the kiss as if burned.

Celeste gasped, hands slipping from his chest. "What—?"

His vision blurred, the forest dulling at the edges.

It’s... It’s her.

’You forget yourself,’ the High One’s voice echoed inside his mind. Ancient and cold. ’I warned you.’

His fists clenched at his sides.

’She is not ready,’ the voice continued. ’And you are straying from your purpose.’

He cursed under his breath but didn’t dare respond disrespectfully. Never with HER.

Celeste stared at him now, alarmed. "Azrael? Who are you talking to?"

He didn’t answer her.

Because the High One wasn’t finished.

’Pull away,’ she commanded. ’Now.’

His body obeyed before his will could fight it. He stepped back—one pace, then another—creating space that felt like tearing flesh.

Celeste reached for him instinctively. "Don’t—what’s happening?"

He forced his hands to remain at his sides while the bond screamed in protest.

’Tell me,’ the High One said calmly, as though she hadn’t just ripped something vital from him. ’Has the mate bond progressed?’

The question lingered heavily.

Azrael lifted his gaze to Celeste—really looked at her. At the confusion in her eyes. At the trust she still held onto, even now.

His jaw tightened.

’No,’ he answered the voice at last, cold and precise. ’Not yet.’

Silence followed.

Celeste swallowed. "Azrael... you’re scaring me."

He exhaled slowly, steadying himself.

"I’ll explain," he said, voice carefully neutral. "Just not today."

Her lips parted. "You can’t just—"

"I have to," he interrupted softly. "If I don’t... this ends badly."

"For who?" she asked again.

His gaze lingered on her a second too long. "For you."

The High One’s presence receded—but not entirely. It was like a blade left hovering at his spine.

As Celeste stood there, torn between anger and concern, Azrael turned away.

Behind him, the bond pulsed with unresolved emotions that threatened to consume him.

And the question echoed in his mind long after he left her standing in the forest:

How long can I protect her... from the truth of me?