Page 36 of Blood of Two Crowns

AndAkashalmighty, the way it renewed my sorrow and sobbing must have been baffling, if not comical.

The last time I’d had a handkerchief, it had been Malekai’s. The memory of him licking my snot off it just to make me smile was enough to break me.

The moons had reached their zenith by the time I woke up, the left side of my body numb and stiff from being pressed against the safe haven of Asterion’s hard, thickly muscled body.

I peeked up from his chest to find him sound asleep. His face was slack, head tilted to the side, and lips parted. It felt like a priviledge to see this powerful mountain of a male in such a vulnerable state. To see the perpetual stoic harshness of his expression erased by sleep.

My heart swelled with affection for him. Not only for all that he had done to earn my loyalty as a friend but even simply for the fact that a male as noble as him existed. I sent a silent prayer toAkashthat one day, some way, somehow, he would find hissoulbound.If anyone deserved it, it was him. It was heartbreaking to think that so long as he was stuck here in Vassileo, it was highly unlikely that he would ever meet her. The nephilim I’d met here all steered clear of him; males, females, andaequilialike.

I laid my head back down on his chest, savoring his warmth and security, thankingAkashfor him before praying that one day sooner, rather than later, he would find hissoulbound.

Chapter

Nineteen

ASTERION

I’d been born amongst my kind, yet I’d always been isolated. Mareina was my firsttruefriend. Watching her suffer like this, feeling her suffering as if it were my own, was enough to drive me to madness. Which was perhaps why I’d resorted to summoning Azrael. Many years ago, I’d thought him a friend, but he’d taught me otherwise.

As usual, Azrael’s office door in the palace was locked but unguarded. No one in the palace was foolish enough to attempt a break-in. Except for me. But I was willing to risk his wrath if it meant there was even a slight chance of convincing him to let Mareina go home. Even if it meant I would still be stuck here.

Alone.

Again.

I stood in front of Azrael’s office’s towering, bloodwood double doors and gave another scan of the vicinity. Not because I was afraid of getting caught but because I was afraid of accidentally killing someone.

To call my magicvolatilewas an understatement, and if anyone were nearby when I unleashed it, there would be unnecessary casualties.

After confirming I was alone, I allowed my tightly sealed emotions to slip out and, with it, my magic. In moments, I could feel the very fabric of reality beginning to fray, and thus, the wards locking Azrael’s office door.

It’s a dizzying and deeply unsettling sensation to feel the world as you know it begin to unravel. Even doing it for a fraction of a second allows me a glimpse into all the manifolds of time and existence, and it always feels far too much for my singular brain to comprehend.

Despite the discomfort, I was already getting lost. My consciousness and perception of my ‘self’ disappeared, slipping through my fingers like the nonexistent sands of time. The sound of creaking and shattering wood, metal, and stone became a distant and faint background noise. Everything in my vicinity was drawn into my void and reduced to a whisper of its former existence, like ash on the wind.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Azrael growling his fury within my mind snapped me back tothisreality. Azrael’s office had been reduced to rubble. The doors and part of the marble and stone walls surrounding them were gone; not even a splinter remained.

I cast a guilty glance at the destruction before turning my gaze to his. As if it wasn’t enough to palpably feel them, I could practicallyseethe flames of his rage burning inside him. “I need to speak with you about Mareina.”

Azrael’s jaw clenched, and I had to consciously put a wall up against his anger and frustration to keep it from bleeding into me.

“What about her?”

“She’s miserable. And I think she’s dying.”

Azrael’s body visibly relaxed as he scrubbed a hand down his face. Dark circles lined his eyes, stubble lined his normally clean-shaved jaw, and a general malaise clouded his aura.

“Sounds vaguely familiar,” he mumbled, more to himself, it seemed, than to me.

I had to steel myself against his pain. “This is not a sustainable solution, Azrael.”

His gaze lifted to mine, indignant that I refused to call him any of thereverentforms of address. A tense moment passed between us before he wisely decided to let the matter go and turned to hike through the rubble that led to his, surprisingly, still intact desk and chairs.

“Yes, that was becoming glaringly obvious,” he says, gesturing vaguely at his appearance. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the fates had sent her tohastenmy death... You haven’t spoken to her, have you?”

I rear back slightly. “You’re askingmeif I’ve spoken to Moirai?”

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