Page 58 of Midnight Crown (Marked by Blood 2)

“Yes.”

Silence hung around us for a few minutes, but it wasn’t as awkward as I expected.

He stood, and I went to follow him, but he gestured for me to stay seated. “Do you want tea?”

My stomach rumbled before I could answer. “What kind do you have?”

“All of them.” He smiled, showing his teeth. “What do you like?”

I curled a lock of red hair around my finger, tightening the strands against my skin. “Peppermint,” I admitted, hoping to ease my stomach.

“I’ll be right back.”

He ambled to the small kitchen, and watched as he filled the teapot, placing it on the stovetop. I gazed at it, transfixed, as it leaked droplets. My mom hated my little ‘drifting off’ moments, but she never understood. Staring at inanimate objects helped me think, like I could go more into my mind and picture things better.

Azia returned with two teacups on saucers and placed them on the oak coffee table between us. “So, you wish to help the cursed?” he asked, continuing from where we left off.

I took a sip of the tea, soaking in the tingle of peppermint coating my tongue. The warmth heated me from the inside. This felt like the most normal thing I’d done since being here. I analyzed his question, finding grounding in the feeling of the hot teacup cupped in my hands. “Yes, I suppose I do. It’s not their fault they’re this way. Salenia made them this way.”

I thought back to Sebastian, and even through my unfair resentment, I felt a twinge of pity. He wanted none of this. All he wanted was his mortality back, something I could never give him. Especially not while he was a prince and married to me.

I launched into the depths of my mind. “Laveniuess preached to embrace the darkness so we can find light. I resonate with that, and I guess it’s naive, but I want to help them find the light. Things here are out of hand. How can anyone choose to be good when there are no limits or consequences to their decisions?”

“Everyone has free will,” he argued, “but yes, environment affects many things, too. I do not think you naive, wanting to bring good to Sanmorte. I find it noble of you.”

My resolve dissolved a little as I warmed to him, finding ease in his presence. I still wouldn’t trust him with everything, but I trusted he was genuine. I could sense it in his expression and body language.

“I think it’s unfair. Every vampire has to go to the underworld when they die. Even the good ones. I didn’t want to believe it, but the gods confirmed it. How can I preach kindness and redemption when they already know they’re damned?”

He sipped his tea, then placed it back on the table. “You show them that doing the right thing, whatever that may be, feels better than hurting another person. They still have empathy—well, most of them anyway. Humanity does not just go away when you’re immortal. Besides, I think everything will change now that you’re here. Nothing is forever, not even the underworld.”

My stomach dipped. “Is that possible?”

“Nothing is impossible. Except getting out of these lessons.” He gave me a wink and smiled. “Now that I know you better, would you like to discuss your powers?”

I hesitated, but my magic thrummed inside me, urging me to release it. “Yes.”

“You are an empath,” he stated, and lowered his internal barriers. “Your magic helps that ability, as it is a part of you. You can influence others, correct?”

“Can’t we all?”

“Yes, but we are not all empaths. That is a very mortal trait.”

“Yet I am immortal.”

“You are different.” He lowered his gaze to my teacup, and we both watched the illusory dance of the steam pillar up. “What am I feeling right now?”

“You want me to read your emotions?”

He only nodded.

I took a deep breath, pressing my fingers deeper into the pillow. Reaching out was easier than breathing. Tentatively, I touched his emotions, enjoying the peace radiating from him. “You’re calm.”

Challenge glinted in his eyes. “Dig deeper.”

I closed my eyes, concentrating solely on him. Plunging into the depths of his being felt horribly intrusive, but I reminded myself he wanted me to do this. My cheeks tingled as I sensed the harsh twinge of rage under the control. Everything in me begged to retreat as the emotions affected my own, but I forced myself to keep going. The smell of peppermint and parchment filled my nostrils as I focused. There was grief in him, but only a touch. Then, as I drowned in the heaviness of his feelings, I found it, buried deep—loneliness.

I pulled out before it could consume me. I opened my mouth, but couldn’t say it. It was too personal, and I worried I went too deep.

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