Page 68 of Of Night and Blood: Special Edition

Noe’s brow furrowed in confusion, taken aback by the seemingly random change of subject. However, she still nodded, willing to answer whatever question I wanted to ask.

“Would you perhaps consider being my friend, Noe?”

The Moon went unnaturally still. I waited, eager for her to answer. I had not expected rejection, but now I wondered if I should have. Noe was always moving, always speaking, always doing something. Seeing her simply stare was unnerving.

Then she smiled.

In an instant she went from her position perched on her cot, to up and bounding my way, barreling into me. The embrace was the kind that could stitch a shredded heart back together or heal a broken soul. It was a breathless, painful hug that brought the sobs back with twice the force.

“I would be honored to call you friend, Ash.”

For the first time since Sterling attacked me, I felt peace.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Noe and I had pushed the tub to one side of the tent, placing our cots beside one another. I was unsure whether my untamable sorrow came from the royals’ betrayal, the afriktor attack, Bellamy’s rejection, or finally having someone to lean on here in Eoforhild.

All of the above, most likely.

Noe did not balk, instead choosing to hold me as I cried and told her of what Mia had done, of what both royals had done. She stroked my hair as I spoke, and when I could no longer talk, she began sharing stories of her childhood.

Her mother had disappeared shortly after giving birth to Noe, running from her abusive husband. Noe had been left behind, suffering the wrath of her father who blamed her for the loss of his wife. She had met Bellamy not long after her magic manifested, when she was five years old and Bellamy was nine, still without powers.

She told me that around the age of maturity, about twenty-five years after their birth, a demon goes through something called The Almavet. In the year or so they remain in The Almavet, their magic doubles, and at the end their aging drastically slows. It was a difficult experience, as they often lost control and had to be secluded. Noe had been confined to her father’s home without visitors.

It was interesting to learn of the difference between fae and demons, as our aging slowed far sooner, occurring when we mastered our power rather than at a certain age. About ten years after birth, a fae’s power awakens. They are then sent to Academy, where training will begin to aid them in controlling the power they had been blessed with by Eternity. Once they were able to contain it, they would be scored on how much power they had. A series of battles and tests are recorded, determining where each fae ranks among their sub-faction.

Demons did not have rankings according to Noe. Instead, no matter their power, they were allowed the freedom to choose their own path. Apparently, even the strongest demons opt to run businesses or farm or sew or mine. Anything they wanted to become they could. Though it sounded beautiful, there was no denying the fact that such autonomy could weaken their entire realm.

Yet, I found myself thinking of what I might choose to be if given the chance.

Noe, unlike most of her kind, was not awarded the same privilege. She had been an assassin and spy long before Bellamy had created his Trusted. In fact, she often portaled to the Fae Realm—Betovere, if Bellamy was to be believed—and spied on the royals. Noe’s father had rigorously trained her to take down his enemies, utilizing her exceptional magic ability as a weapon for his own selfish needs and desires.

She spoke of her isolation growing up, the longing for companionship she would feel as a result.

Noe gave such detailed descriptions of the places she had portaled, that I found myself lost in them, dreaming of visiting the far off cave where she uncovered a small group of rebels or the rain forest where she had found large cases of smuggled goods to blackmail a Lord with.

It was all so fascinating and inconceivable. She and Bellamy both had memories of grand adventures and the desire to be something more than what their parents wanted.

I had never wanted to be anything other than good enough.

It was pathetic really, that I had spent over two centuries pining for the love of a couple who had poisoned and beat me. Even more embarrassing that I still found myself dreaming of being loved by them, seeing their proud faces and knowing that my life had meaning. Somehow, I remained unable to hate them, that small part of myself insisting they were innocent, believing I deserved it all.

Would it be ridiculous to think that? To see my own faults and conclude that I had been the catalyst to the downfall of our bond? I did not believe so, but I knew Noe would. And so would Bellamy. Neither of them believed the royals held any good within their hearts, that they were capable of redemption.

But I knew without a shadow of a doubt that there was no good without evil. Life was not black and white; it was gray and gloomy, and we were all the villain of someone’s story.

No matter what path I chose, I would be the worst of them all.

I scooted further into Noe as her words became softer and her breaths became even. When she fell asleep mid-sentence, I forced myself to not close my eyes. I fought it with every ounce of energy I had, but there was very little left.

My body begged me for relief and rest, but my mind reminded me of all I would see when I gave in to the fatigue. Slowly, trying not to wake Noe, I edged my way off the cots. Her soft snores stuttered at one point, but she did not wake, nor did she stir again after.

I snatched my cloak off of the floor, securing it swiftly, and made my way out of our shared tent. The morning sun burned, but the chill came with a satisfying jolt of awareness. Allowing my eyes to adjust, I stretched my arms and took in the empty field through squinted lids. Surprised to find no one keeping watch, I halted. What if someone—or something—attacked?

Bellamy was hardly an incompetent leader, and I doubted Henry would allow us to have no one keeping watch either. Someone had to be around here somewhere. I moved through our small camp, noting the dying flames of the fire and the snores coming from all five tents.

Figuring I should trust that they could manage their affairs, I wandered away from our site. There was a fresh taste to the wind as it blew my hair back, the sun overhead assuaging some of the frosty bite. Overgrown grass and hyacinths made for a fairytale-like scene.

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