CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Azrael's POV:
“Nope,” Caspian snorted. “You just want to get her under you so bad.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath before I lost it and forgot he was my best friend.
Minutes—literal ‘minutes’—I'd spent explaining the mysteries surrounding Saphielle and this was his takeaway? He was a 500-year-old vampire, for f**k's sake. He couldn't be that dense.
“Were you even listening to a word I said?”
“Uh, yeah?” He scoffed. “And if I get to sit through one more whiny, tragic speech about the girl you wanna so badly stick your d**k into, I'm going to lose my s**t, dude.”
“That's not the point!” I snapped, exasperated.
He leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Then what is?”
“There's something strange about her. I can feel it. I felt it,” I pointe
