That strange, yet familiar warmth settled over her soul as she placed her hand upon the unlocked gate. When she finally gathered the strength to push it open, Nymiria could do nothing but fall to the ground on all fours and curl her fingers around those vicious vines that had taken claim of her garden.
All of her hard work…
She shook her head, pushing as hard as she could against that comforting warmth that tried to shield her from the pain in her heart. Shewantedto feel it. Right now, she didn't want to be heartless.
She wanted a sign. A whisper of an answer. But there was nothing at all, save for her memories.
Her mind flashed to Dorid, remembering all of the times he'd hit her, all of the times he talked down to her or demeaned her in the presence of the nobles in this realm. She remembered the humiliation of being sold, of being paraded around like some gods-damned show pony for his friends to marvel at and pet.
No, they'd never taken her to their beds. But they may as well have. As many times as she'd been groped and grabbed and backed into corners, her mind and her body sold in exchange for deals and deaths, she was no better than a common whore.
The truth hurt.
Everythinghurt, but Aziel's magic, even this far from the Beyond, was fighting as hard as it could against the bitter chill in her heart.
Nymiria wept, her tears spilling onto the vines, cascading over the moonflowers, and spilling onto the earth. With each tear that fell, a new tendril of green sprung from the earth below. But Nymiria's heart and eyes were too busy focused on every way she'd failed for her to notice.
The moment the sun rose through the milky glass of her window, casting that same peculiar gray light onto the chair she'd fallen asleep in, Nymiria shoved her rage with Aziel away. He was only trying to help her, just as she'd asked him to. Instead, she chose to focus it on the very people that'd been set to destroy her from the moment she was born.
Camalia and Dorid.
If anyone deserved her anger, it was them. And of all of the people in that kingdom that'd wronged her, none of them deserved to die by the point of her blade more than the king and queen. She'd made up her mind—she'd waited enough.
After contemplating her situation and how she could have her dreams come alive at the tips of her fingers, Nymiria slipped out of her rooms and walked towards Aziel's door. It seemed to be of sheer instinct that her fingers brushed over the place his palms had rested so defeatedly against the wood, but the moment the image of his glare entered her mind, she curled her fingers away and reached for the knob.
Unlocked. Surprisingly.
A small triumphant smile took over her face before she glanced over her shoulder one final time and entered into Aziel's rooms.
She was greeted by the scent of cherry blossoms again, mingling with the stale scent of yellowed pages and leather. Books were piled in nearly every corner, some in boxes and some out of them. The linens on his bed were a shade of purple so dark that they were nearly black—the blankets crumpled and tossed about the bed as if he'd only just roused from a horrible slumber.
Nymiria sighed, eyes turning to the crows that were perched just outside of his window. Loyal servants of his, she presumed. Especially for someone who exuded the essence of death the way he did.
She followed the the direction of the crows' eyes, moving slowly across the floor so as not to disturb the birds, nor signify that she'd even gone into that room. Being caught walking so fearlessly in the rooms of a man other than Oran would get her smacked again. Or lashings—probably the lashings.
The floorboard creaked.
Blindly, she reached for the fifth book in the pile and jerked it loose, watching with wide eyes as the tower of books leaned and swayed. Once the books began steadying themselves, she let out the breath she'd been holding and ran, nearly tumbling into her own belongings as her feet slid across the floor and skidded toa stop. Her legs were shaking and her heart was pounding, but being safe in the comfort of her own space allowed her a moment of triumph.Cursing the lack of grip on her slippers,she rushed over to her desk, drawing in a deep breath before she looked down at the book in her hands and smiled.
She figured that he would have something like this. What odd man did not collect oddities? And for him to have shelf upon shelf of banned books in his home back in the Beyond, she only assumed that he'd have some here. There was something she found quite charming in his blatant disregard to following rules. Even if it meant his safety.
Nymiria settled into the chair nearest the desk, thumbing through the frayed yellow pages and humming with delight as she crossed each entry.
Hours must have passed since she'd sequestered herself to her rooms. Rain ticked and tapped against the thin panes of her window, cascading down them like teardrops from the heavens, setting the mood for the words written on each page of the text.
She felt hopeless.
According to all that she'd read thus far, she'd learned that rune-work was some of the most binding of all magics, very rarely able to be broken depending upon the force behind the intent of the spell-caster and the overall power of the witch. She didn't know Camalia's level of skill in witchcraft, but she saw the evidence of it nearly every single day. No matter how strongly Nymiria wished to access some of her more complex powers, she never could and she suffered severely for it.
It took her four years to learn that lesson, but even though she'd stifled the desire to call on her powers, the memory of the pain along her spine was enough to make her want to forget she had any magic inside of herentirely.Until recently.
Since Aziel had returned from his mission overseas and throughout Gaellagh, Nymiria had felt that calling again—that sensuous purr of her magic rumbling inside of her, like a lover whispering sweet-nothings into the ear of their partner andbeggingto be touched and embraced. She'd felt it first that day he'd cornered her in the garden, so viciously that it terrified her at first.
But now, with this anger burning deep in the depths of her soul, she wanted to touch her magic just as badly asitwanted to be used by her.
"I need your help.”
Nymiria gasped, her book fumbling from her hands as she lurched to her feet. Aziel let out a soft chuckle as he threw himself onto her settee. He crossed one long leg over the other. “Have you absolutely no manners?” She snapped, charging forward to swipe his legs off of the velvet. “You could have knocked.”
