To Bewitch a Devil

Chapter 172 - 172 I wouldn’t tell you



“As I said”, Penelope dragged the words out for emphasis. “I don’t have any idea.”

The maid was smart to back away. Azriel raised a hand, and at once, the voices stopped, the accelerated beats of different hearts pounding with agitation.

“Please”, Azriel started. It was so unlike a demon to plead, especially to maids, so it was more serious than they thought. “Stay in here, and you are safe. That’s all I need from you.”

They were dismissed, and Penelope maintained her spot. If they were to stay in the estate, what happens to those outside it? Other humans living in houses with no protection and those living in the King’s castle? Was it safe too? Was Neera going to be safe?

Quickly, Penelope pushed her way forward just as Azriel was taking his exit. They all walked with quick strides due to their supernaturalism, and she was running to catch up with him. Ahead, Azriel turned a corner, and as Penelope upped her speed and followed after him, a strong arm reached out to pull her into a chest.

Penelope let out a small scream and looked up. Azriel was staring down at her, his arduous face now softened by a smirk.

“Go on ahead”, he told his men without looking at them. “I’ll join you later.”

A low chuckle escaped one of them, and Penelope lowered her eyes, face burning. She heard the feet recede, and Azriel, with one finger under her chin, willed her eyes up to his again.

.....

His heart constricted, gaze lingering on those pouty lips that house a tongue always ready to throw him a comeback. She had been out of his sight for too long, and he wanted to hold her close, fill his nose with every bit of her scent – the faintest hint of rosemary that had long colored his room until it was etched like in a part of his memory.

Penelope tried to pull away, but he held her, one arm keeping her in place.

“I can’t have people see us like this,” she said.

“No one dares to question me.”

“It is about me, my Lord”, Penelope’s effort to free herself from his hold proved futile.

“Why do you bother yourself at this point?” Azriel asked. “It’s not like you have the best reputation anymore.”

Penelope stilled, her eyes narrowed. “You know.”

“I do. It is my estate, after all,” Azriel smiled. “Let them talk.”

“But I won’t let them see,” Penelope said. “To them, you are a rake everyone wants to bed, but I am nothing but the whore maid brought to the estate to fulfill your carnal desires. So please, let me go.”

There were voices approaching, and before the panic could set in, Azriel swept her off her feet and onto his shoulder. It happened too fast for Penelope to register what was done, and she swung like a weightless sack on his shoulder as he marched up a set of stairs leading to his wing.

She squirmed and huffed in fury, but Azriel didn’t budge. The maids were all downstairs, thankfully, but there would be guards lining up at the doors of his chambers. But instead of taking a left to the stairs leading up there, Azriel took the right road leading straight into the library.

Penelope was set down on a table at the back, where shelves of books sheltered them from the eyes of anyone who might decide to walk in. She looked around; no one was in sight. She looked at Azriel. He didn’t look too happy, and neither was she.

She made to push past him and run for the door, but he was quicker and could sense it. She fought his hands away, and he invaded more of her space, locking her in with two fists set on either side of her on the table.

Penelope furiously drew away the curtain of her hair that had come undone during his hauling. She would have pushed, and yelled, but still when he looked at her that stern way, it was a reminder; he was her Lord, and she, his maid. So she held herself back and trained her gaze on an old book over his head.

“You are as stubborn as a mule, Pen”, she could detect the hint of amusement in his voice.

“Look at me”, he ordered. Pen closed her eyes briefly, inhaled, and returned her gaze to him. She didn’t like the way her heart was betraying her by beating so fast, she didn’t like it at all. They were standing too close, close enough for Pen to see the hidden scar at the ridge of his brow and for him to see the flecks of black dotting the brilliant blue of her eyes.

Azriel reached for her hair, twirling her dark locks in his fingers. “You have been doing a great job avoiding me.”

“I have no reason to avoid you, my Lord. As long as other maids see that duties have been done, I have no reason to come into your chambers,” Penelope said.

“But I assigned you to my chambers, didn’t I?”

Penelope’s breath hitched when the lightest touch caressed her cheek as he tucked away her hair behind her ear. “I have other duties too, my Lord. And it is quicker if other maids join to do yours as I do mine.”

“Perhaps that is a good thing,” Azriel said. “Because I am losing my mind trying to understand what kind of potent effect you have on me, Pen.”

Penelope’s pulse quickened, and her body moved in to incline toward his, losing all control. Before the fogginess of her logic would lead her to do things she would regret, she backed away.

“What’s happening outside our castle walls?” She asked instead.

Azriel sighed, his breath fanning her face. “Even if I do know, I wouldn’t tell you.”


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