Page 16 of Blood of Two Crowns

“It doesn’t?”

“Not even remotely. Let me remind you that this place is eternal. There is no poverty. There is no death in the way that you think of it. It is a place of rest for the soul between reincarnations and returning toAkash’sSource. Whatever a soul wishes they can grant themselves. Those who remain without or are in suffering, it is self-inflicted—from karmic debts and theirmisdeeds sewn in the living world—until they heal and grow from within. And that is something that your innate power helps sustain.”

Outside of the soft whisper of the gentle waves kissing the shore, silence hung between us as my chest constricted and the sensation of unworthiness deepened.

“Outside of death, I know nothing of my power, Lathrimos.”

Lathrimos’ brow pinched with concern, shaking his head as he searched my face in disbelief. “Death is only the beginning of your power, Mareina.”

Chapter

Seven

ZURIE

“My, my, how the tides have turned…” Truly, the sound of Azrael’s voice was the smuggest in all the realms, despite its otherworldly resonance. Still, hope fluttered in my chest.

“Aetra.”

The sound of his sigh had my despair returning as swiftly as it’d left. “We both know that’s not a good idea, Zurie.”

Despite my desperation, I was unable to muster any feeling other thanpain, lying in a puddle of my own sweat and vomit as the withdrawals from aetra overtook me. I couldn’t even manage to turn around and face him. When I didn’t move, outside of my shivering, the sound of Azrael’s boots crunching the tiny pebbles on the cold hard ground that was my new bed felt like fucking blades upon my eardrums.

“Be nice, Az,” a rich, feminine voice murmured from the doorway.

Thalia. Scheming cunt.

One would think that the betrayals and manipulations of my entire family throughout the course of my life would have been enough of a lesson to last me a life time.

Alas, hearts are made to forgive. Even hearts as withered as mine.

There had only been two people in my life I’d ever truly trusted. The first had been my handmaiden, Beatrice, when I was a young female. Though now, I wasn’t naive enough to truly believe that she wouldn’t have betrayed me as well the moment she was given the opportunity.

One of my sisters had her killed when she realized how close we’d become.

Too close.

When one of my sisters discovered us in bed together, she immediately told my mother and father. She’d lied and said Beatrice had compelled me with her sanguinati magic and venom.She hadn’t.If anything,Ihad been the one to compel her.

My parents had Beatrice executed in front of me. This was followed by a ruthless beating before leaving me to rot in the dungeon for months, with no one but theratsto keep me company.

It was why now I always kept the dungeons almost always empty and rodent-free. A small mercy to whomever met my ire or myIrae.

The last person I’d trusted had been Rumiel. Nakoa’s father. He had been the one person with whom I thought my heart might be safe. He was a Nephilim, after all. They weremadeto trust and protect. To rely on. To be dutiful andgood.

When I’d realized he’d only wormed his way into my life,my heart,simply to open one of the portals to Azrael’s realms, just so that he couldleaveme… It had nearly killed me.

I’d wanted to be everything for him. Ilovedhim. Truly loved. At that time, I would have given my life to protect him.

Hence, I wasn’t much for this world. They were the only two people who lent joy to my life. Euphoria, even.

And look how it had ended.

When I’d discovered Rumiel’s manipulation, I’d sworn that he wouldneverbe able to leave me, and I put him in a tomb beneath the dungeons. I found out I was pregnant a few weeks later.

How wildly serendipitous that as soon as I release Rumiel, the only other person who could return him to his home, the very guardian of his soul, would return to my home for the first time since he’d brought him here.

I whimpered through the grinding of my teeth, curling in on myself as Azrael squatted beside me. To my surprise, he didn’t comment on the stench nor my refuse. He simply stared down at me with pity. The cursed male was just as wretchedly handsome as he was the last time I’d seen him a few hundred years ago. His features weren’t classically handsome, but instead something striking and entirely their own: Pale skin, perfectly coiffed raven black hair, and eyes so amber they were gold set amidst features that were somehow both sharp and sultry. And just as it had been centuries ago, the suit he wore was tailored to some other realm’s strange, fitted fashion.

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