A trap

Nat frowned in disgust. What was even expecting to hear? That sounds like typical Azrael.

Nat got up from the ground, annoyed hearing her explanation. Will it kill her, to be honest with her feelings? Everyone in the room knew she was lying but no one dared to point it out. How can they? She will murder them.

"Fine. I will do it for free." Nat taunted, sitting on the adjacent couch. Azrael didn't argue further. From her peripheral view, she saw he still had injuries from her beating earlier. Nat was not like her, he can't have his own treatment and heal instantly. Instead, he needs human treatment to get his look back.

"Mistress, his wounds…" Oliver noticed Azrael's eyes on his wounds and spoke up to skip the awkward tension.

"Do whatever you want. I am going upstairs to rest." Azrael waved her dismissively and announced, leaving them to figure it out.