Chapter 4

Samael Wulf

I almost snapped my neck with how fast I turned to look at her.

“Who is?” I asked, not wanting her to say who I thought it was.

“Azael,” she replied calmly, then tore open the second bag of blood, downing its freezing contents like it was liquid gold.

I shot up from my chair and stormed forward, slamming my palms onto the glass. She didn't move a muscle apart from one cheek, flashing me a glimpse of her crimson-covered teeth.

“Why is he coming here, and when?” I snapped in a dominant tone.

She took her time to answer. Slurping down the last remnants of the blood bag.

“Well, he knew you were seeing Freya, and I'm guessing he didn't like it that much. Or he thought he could use that to his advantage.”

“Well, I'm no longer with her.”

She threw the empty bags onto the floor and threw her head back to let out a cackle.

“I knew she'd throw you away like the trash that you are,” she spat before