[BL] I Didn't Sign Up For This-Chapter 42: In Which Azryth Keeps a Secret (Badly)

Azryth was acting strange.

Not obvious strange, he was too controlled for that. But I’d gotten good at reading him over the past weeks, the binding helped, sure, but mostly it was just knowing him.

And something was off.

It started Wednesday morning when he came back from an early meeting at the archive. I’d been half-asleep still when he returned, but I felt him through the binding, tense, worried, and trying very hard to project calm.

"Morning," I mumbled. "Everything okay?"

"Fine, just routine research follow-up." Too casual, too quick. "Go back to sleep."

I didn’t. But I pretended to, watching through barely-open eyes as he went to his office and closed the door, actually closed it, he never closed his office door when we were alone in the penthouse.

By noon, he’d made seven phone calls in languages I didn’t recognize, all behind that closed office door.

By evening, he was distracted during training, not dangerously so, but enough that I landed hits I shouldn’t have.

"You’re off your game," I said after knocking him back three steps with a strike that should’ve been easy to block.

"I’m fine, you’re just improving."

"I’m not improving that much." I lowered my practice blade. "What’s going on?"

"Nothing, why would something be going on?"

"Because you’re lying badly." I set down the blade entirely. "You closed your office door this morning, you never close the door, and you’ve been making secretive phone calls all day."

"I’m not being secretive, I’m handling sensitive business matters that don’t concern you."

The wording was wrong.

"Business matters." I crossed my arms. "Is that why you feel anxious?"

His jaw tightened. "I’m not anxious."

"Yes, you are. I can feel it." I moved closer. "What did you find at the archive this morning?"

"Nothing of immediate concern."

"But it’s something of eventual concern?"

"Riven.."

"Don’t ’Riven’ me in that tone! We agreed, no more secrets." I held his gaze. "What did you find?"

He looked away first. "It’s complicated." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"Everything about our life is complicated, just tell me."

He was quiet for a long moment. Then: "A very old prophecy fragment recently translated from a text we’d previously considered decorative rather than functional."

"A prophecy about what?"

"About..." He stopped, recalibrated. "About bindings, infernal-warden connections, the potential consequences of such unions."

Ice formed in my stomach. "Consequences like what?"

"The translation is unclear, prophecies are always unclear, there are multiple interpretations....It could mean anything."

"Azryth. What does it say?"

"It doesn’t matter what it says. Prophecies are notoriously unreliable, more poetry than prediction, we’d be foolish to make decisions based on vague mystical verse from texts written thousands of years ago by people who may have been high on infernal vapors."

He was rambling, and Azryth never rambled.

"What. Does. It. Say."

We stared at each other, a fierce battle of wills.

He broke first, again.

"’The fractured key and the bound lord will either lock the gates or tear them open,’" he recited. "’When warden blood and demon essence merge, the choice becomes inevitable. Salvation or damnation. Unity or annihilation. The scales balance on love’s edge.’"

The words hung in the air between us.

"Fractured key," I said slowly. "That’s me, isn’t it? The Kael line, the warden the Covenant’s been tracking."

"Possibly, or it could refer to anything. ’Fractured’ is generic enough to apply to dozens of scenarios."

"And ’bound lord’ is you."

"Or any demon who’s been imprisoned or bound, again, generic phrasing."

"Azryth."

"We don’t know it’s about us!"

"Of course it’s about us!" I gestured between us. "Warden and demon, bound together, merger of essence, how many other couples fit that specific description right now?"

"The timing is coincidental.."

"The timing is too perfect." My mind was racing. "Lock the gates or tear them open. What gates? The infernal gates? Between realms?"

He didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

"Oh my god." I sat down heavily on the training mat. "Our binding could either seal the realms properly or break them open completely."

"That’s one interpretation, there are others."

"Name one."

"The ’gates’ could be metaphorical, it could be representing choices, opportunities, philosophical concepts—"

"You’re reaching."

"I’m being appropriately skeptical of prophecy!" His voice rose slightly. "Do you know how many prophecies throughout history have been interpreted as world-ending threats only to mean absolutely nothing? Hundreds. Thousands. They’re vague by design because vagueness makes them impossible to disprove."

"But you’re worried anyway, that’s why you’re researching, making calls, trying to figure out what it means."

He ran a hand through his hair. A tell. He was more rattled than he wanted to admit. "I’m investigating all possibilities, that’s different from believing we’re central figures in some ancient apocalypse prediction."

"What happens if we ’tear the gates open’? Specifically."

"In theory? The barriers between the mortal and infernal realms would collapse, demons could cross freely, spirits, entities, things that should remain contained would flood through unchecked." His voice was flat. "Apocalyptic scenario, mass casualties, realm destabilization. Everything the Covenant fears about warden-demon unions made manifest."

"And if we ’lock the gates’?"

"Then the barriers strengthen and become permanent, demons won’t be able to cross and infernal influence in the mortal realm ends entirely." He met my eyes. "Which would be disastrous for entities like me who exist here, we’d be trapped or expelled and forced to return to realms we can’t safely inhabit."

"So we either destroy the world or destroy you." I laughed bitterly. "Great options. Love that for us."

"We don’t know that’s what it means—"

"Just stop." I stood. "Stop pretending this isn’t about us, stop downplaying because you think I can’t handle it." I moved closer to him. "I need to know what we’re facing, all of it, not edited versions you think will worry me less."

He looked at me, really looked at me, some calculation happening behind his eyes.

"There’s more," he said finally. "To the prophecy, there are lines I didn’t recite."

"Of course there are."

"’The choice is made not once but constantly, each moment of unity strengthens one path, each moment of division the other, the key will break or the key will seal, and the lord will fall or the lord will rise. And all hangs on whether love proves true or love proves false.’"

The implications hit me. "Our relationship determines which outcome happens."

"According to the prophecy, yes. Which is why I’m skeptical, relationships don’t have cosmic significance, people aren’t destiny’s puppets, we have agency regardless of what some ancient text claims."

"But if it’s right, if we do determine which way the gates go, then the Covenant has even more reason to kill me, because if I’m dead, the prophecy can’t unfold."

"Or killing you ensures the worst outcome, prophecies are frustratingly non-specific about causation." He gripped my shoulders. "This is why I didn’t want to tell you, because now you’re spiraling about theoretical apocalypse scenarios based on poetry written millennia ago."

"You were hiding it to protect me."

"I was only delaying sharing it until I had more information, there’s a difference."

"Is there?"

"Yes! If I tell you every time I find a vaguely threatening reference to wardens or demons or bindings in ancient texts, you’d never stop worrying. There are hundreds of such references, most of which mean nothing. I’m trying to determine which category this falls into before causing unnecessary anxiety."

He had a point. But still.

"We agreed," I said quietly. "No secrets, even when you think they’re for my own good."

His grip on my shoulders loosened. "You’re right, I apologize, I was attempting to spare you worry and violated our agreement in the process."

"Thank you." I touched his chest. "Now tell me the rest, there’s always a rest with these things."

He grimaced. "The scholars who translated it found references in other texts, cross-references to ’the fractured key’ spanning multiple centuries. Apparently, this prophecy has been known about for a while, just not widely publicized."

"Why not?"

"Because it’s considered extremist literature. The kind of prophecy that causes panic, calls for preemptive action, witch hunts." His expression darkened. "If the wrong people knew about this, knew that a warden-demon binding could theoretically open or close the gates, they’d want to eliminate all possibilities. Kill anyone who might fit the description."

"But the Covenant knows."

"Possibly, probably, yes." He pulled me closer. "Which explains their intensity, their determination to acquire or eliminate you. They’re not just protecting their interests, they’re trying to prevent prophetic fulfillment."

"..by killing me."

"Or binding you to someone else, corrupting you, breaking our connection." His arms wrapped around me fully. "They see you as a potential apocalypse trigger, so they want you neutralized."

"And you’re the bound lord who I’m either going to help seal the gates or tear them open."

"According to one interpretation of questionable poetry, yes."

I rested my head against his chest, his heartbeat was elevated, stress, anxiety, fear he was trying to control.

"We’re not going to tear the gates open," I said.

"You sound certain."

"I am certain, because the prophecy says it depends on love being true or false. And our love is true." I looked up at him. "Right?"

"Yes." No hesitation. "What we have is genuine, as real as anything I’ve experienced in five centuries."

"Then we’re not ending the world. Simple as that."

"Prophecies are rarely that simple."

"This one is. Love proves true, gates get locked, everyone’s fine, we just have to keep loving each other." I smiled slightly. "We’re already good at that."

"You’re being extremely calm about this."

"One of us needs to be, you’re wound tight enough to snap." I took his hands. "Look, we’ve faced assassination attempts, spirit attacks, succubus spies, and a literal death cult hunting me. Adding ’potential apocalypse prevention’ to the list doesn’t really change our daily threat level."

He laughed despite himself. "That’s a concerningly accurate assessment."

"We were already fighting for our survival, and now we know there’s cosmic stakes attached, it doesn’t change the actual fighting part."

"You’re taking this better than I expected."

"Because I trust us." I squeezed his hands. "We’re going to be fine, the gates will get locked properly, you’ll be safe, the world won’t end, and we’ll keep being annoyingly in love while the Covenant gnashes their teeth about it."

"Hmm, you make it sound simple."

"It is simple, the complicated parts are all the murder attempts we have to survive along the way." I pulled him toward the exit. "Come on, enough training for today, you’re too distracted to fight properly anyway."

"I’m not distracted."

"You are." I led him toward the elevator. "We’re going upstairs. You’re going to eat something, and I’m going to make you talk through all your prophecy research anxiety, and then we’re going to forget about ancient texts for the night."

"Seriously, Riven. You’re saying we should forget about potential apocalypse scenarios?"

"For tonight, yes. Because worrying about them doesn’t change anything, and you need rest more than you need to spiral about metaphorical poetry."

He followed, surprisingly docile. "When did you become the reasonable one?"

"Around the time you started hiding prophecies from me and stress-researching at three AM."

"I wasn’t stress-researching."

"Your tablet history says otherwise."

"You looked at my tablet history?"

"The binding told me you were awake and anxious, so I investigated." I pressed the elevator button. "No secrets, remember? That goes both ways."

He was quiet as we rode up. Then: "Thank you.. for being logical when I’m letting theoretical scenarios override practical assessment." He pulled me close. "And for checking on me, even when I’m being secretive and stupid."

"I’m glad you know how stupid you were."

Azryth chuckled and pulled me into a deep kiss.