Blood of Two Crowns (Hallowed Fates #2)

Chapter 19

Chapter

Nineteen

ASTERION

I ’d been born amongst my kind, yet I’d always been isolated. Mareina was my first true friend. 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 magic volatile was 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 to this reality. 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 practically see the 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 the reverent forms 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 to hasten my death... You haven’t spoken to her, have you?”

I rear back slightly. “You’re asking me if I’ve spoken to Moirai?”

Azrael shakes his head, heaving a great sigh as if realizing what a ridiculous question it was.

Tension radiated throughout my entire body, trying to restrain my magic as I reluctantly sat in the chair opposite him. “Something must be done.”

Azrael gave me a rueful smirk. “Should have known you’d take your job too seriously.”

Oh dear fuck. Never in all my years had I ever met someone I’d wanted to punch in the face so desperately. Or so frequently.

“She’s my friend.”

Something I didn’t dare mistake for compassion flashed across his face before sighing heavily and kicking his feet up on his dust and rubble-strewn desk. His gaze drifted to the shattered window overlooking the barren wasteland that his world had become as a stifling hot breeze rippled the curtains.

“I’ll take care of it.”

My brows pinched with concern. That had been… too easy.

“You’ll take care of it ?”

Azrael waved a dismissive through the air. “ It as in the problem. I’ll resolve it.”

“How?”

Azrael jolted upright, removing his feet from his desk to prop up his elbows and bury his face in his hands, muffling his voice. “Does it matter? So long as she’s happy?”

“Of course, it matters.”

“Gods, you’re fussy.”

“Azrael.”

Azrael rose abruptly, his erratic energy reaching a snapping point, and I got a another glimpse of the god. His voice boomed inside and outside my mind.

“Do not think for a second that just because you have such a rare and formidable power that it means you can challenge me. It would take nothing more than my mere will to reduce you to nothing more than photons of light, boy.”

Instead of fear or reverence, it was pity that suffused me. His ensuing anguish washed over me like acidic sludge. Azrael and I had beaten the shit out of each other on more occasions than I could keep track, but we’d always left our magic out of it, and it had usually been during relatively friendly sparring sessions. If it came down to our magic… Maybe he was right. There was no way to be sure without unleashing our powers, and I didn’t actually want him to die.

Despite my resentment towards him, I still cared deeply for him. He meant well in most cases but was just fucked up and wounded beyond recognition.

My eyes drifted to the half-broken statue of his soulbound , Persephone. Her effigy was peppered throughout the entire palace. And yet, she was nowhere to be found. From what I’d gathered, she was living in hiding somewhere without him actually admitting anything. Where, exactly, no one knew, but the longer she was gone, the worse off Azrael and his realms became.

No longer able to tolerate his presence or the misery and fear consuming him, I stood to leave. Pausing in the blown-out doorway, I cast him one last glance, not bothering to mask my concern.

“Just… treat her as you would Persephone, please.”

Pain radiated from him directly into my chest as he gave a sardonic laugh. “I can assure you, that’s the last thing you would want for your friend.”

Anxiety wound through me. Fuck. I should never have sought him.

“Can you promise me her happiness? Her safety?”

The in my chest, mirroring Azrael’s, dissipated slightly. “ Asterion, if anything, she’ll be the happiest and safest she’s ever been.”

How the fuck was that possible?

I turned towards him fully, now even more concerned than before, but he’d already folded away.