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I slumped in my seat, wrapping the blanket tighter around my body to trap the remaining warmth left in my bones. The vapor in the air made the night seem so much colder. “How did you do that?”
“Divine magic,” he said with a wave of his fingers. “The gods blessed us with a bit of their power when they created us. Unfortunately, I can’t heal anyone, but I can do simple things like start a fire or ice a wound.”
“Whenwereyou created exactly?” I asked, assessing his eternal youth with a precarious eye. He didn’t appear much older than me, maybe a few years past his twentieth.
He paused to think about it, then shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. After a few centuries, you lose count.”
I scoffed at his indifference, feeling suddenly lightheaded from the realization of an ancient man massaging my foot. “Were you around when the queen was born…or made… However she came to be?”
He nodded slowly then gestured to my other foot. I gratefully lifted it for his magic hands to rub. My eyes closed instinctively as I melted into his touch, letting his voice quietly tell me stories of a time before my own. “Thequeenisn’t a queen by any standard but her own claim. Her real name is Adzehate, and she was a servant to the gods—one of the highest among her ranks. The gods sent their holy servants to the earth to teach humanity their ways and their rules. But when her time was through with the humans, and the gods called her back, she refused.”
“Why would she refuse?”
Azriel pressed a thumb into the curve of my arch, sending a pleasurable pain through the overworked muscle. His voice grew low against the crackle of the fire, quiet to hide his words from the creatures of the night as if her very name called them forth. “Why does anyone defy their orders? She fell in love with her humans.”
“How did star-crossed love turn into an eternal night?” I wondered out loud. The mountain claimed the gods abandoned us, taking nothing with them but time. We were simply stuck in the eternal night until they returned, forced to make our own way in this new version of an old world.
“The holy servants were very powerful, but it is unclear how she achieved the power she has today. Some say the gods didn’t quite destroy every demon before they established the realm, and one of them found the original Adzehate and overtook her. Others say she discovered a dark magic still lingering from the previous world and created her own terrifying power.”
Azriel’s eyes reflected the fire as he continued to roll out my muscles with his hands. A multitude of lifetimes playing back in his mind. “But no matter which legend is true, Adzehate is still a soulreaper, which means she can possess and take the form of one who invites her in. Once she has a soul, she steals everything that makes a person special. All their gifts, their talents become hers. Once she stole enough souls, she became corrupt with her power among the mortals, greedy for their love and attention, and they started to worship her over the original gods. When the gods saw this, they were enraged, demanding she return to the heavens and correct the people she deceived along the way. She refused, obviously, and there was a great war between the mortals and the divine.”
I let him catch his breath before prodding further. “How did she convince them to fight for her? How did she gain that kind of following?”
Azriel lifted a shoulder ambiguously. “She turned many against the gods, creating her own band of followers. Some say she gave them her blood and they went mad for it, desiring nothing else but the heavenly power in her veins. The more they consumed, the more they obsessed over it, forgetting all other pleasures of the world besides the blood of their manmade goddess. These followers let their humanity rot away and left something more sinister, a creature which lies inside every human when the goodness is stripped away.”
“The vampyres…” I whispered, my eyes fluttering open at the realization. Azriel nodded.
“Aye. The creatures who hunt you, the ones that desire your flesh and your blood, are the same creatures Adzehate created a hundred years ago with her own blood. It connects them, feeds them, fuels and protects them. They’ll do anything to get to her, a creature I don’t think she intended to create but aids in her reign of terror nonetheless.”
My stomach churned at the memory of the blush-colored confection I ate only days prior, remembering the miraculous effects it created in my body and the violation I felt from its power. “She feeds her Chosen her blood.” I muttered. Azriel furrowed his brow, a single crease cut through his forehead and deepened as I explained. “She gave me a type of candy before I left the mountain. The first time I ran, I split my head open, and I ate one. It healed me instantly and left me euphoric. It took all my will power not to consume more, to save them for the journey back.” Had I known what was inside the sugar-coated lie, I would’ve taken my chances with death. Did the other runners know? Did Fenris know when he gave them to me? I hoped in my heart he didn’t, but my expectations were fragile these days, weak from being consistently shattered by those I held in highest regard.
“That must be how she connects to you, as well. Which might be good news, Arya. The longer you’re without it, the more it will drain out of your system and her hold on you will weaken.” His voice was hopeful, yet sensible. Nimble fingers pressed on each joint in my foot, releasing thirty miles worth of tension in their bones.
I gave him a half smile in agreeance, still not feeling much better about my situation. Gods knew how long it would take for her presence to filter from my bloodstream, or how little time I had in the first place. “Sorry, I interrupted your story. Keep going.”
He sucked a large breath through his nose before speaking again, returning to our previous topic. “Aye, well the war lasted three days and three nights, and on the last night, the watchers and three gods captured Adzehate. But they could not kill her because she was a divine, and only the chosen assassin has the god’s right to kill one of them. The huntress had been killed, with no one to replace her. So instead, they locked Azehate in the mountain, containing her and her power, which sources from the energy in the leylines. Out of punishment to the mortals who served her, the gods paused time and turned their face from humanity, only vowing to return once mankind has fixed the world they corrupted and destroy their false god once and for all.”
“Even the gods themselves cannot destroy her?” I asked in disbelief.
“No, the gods cannot destroy what they create. It goes against their laws of creation. Which is why they blessed the huntress with the power to do what they cannot.”
There it was again, the same title Azriel had tried to throw at me in the meeting with his council. “I still haven’t forgiven you for what you said. Or for calling me that name in front of everyone,” I admitted, lowering my gaze to my hands in my lap. The strange title he’d used to describe me sliced something deep in my chest, and I’d been trying to cover the inner wound ever since. But distraction was a poor suture, never quite lining the edges perfectly enough to heal.
His hands moved up to my calves, and my body fought to contain the moan of sweet pleasure as he rubbed free the tenderness lingering in the tautness. “I know, Arya. And I don’t pretend to have earned your forgiveness.” The motion of his touch pressed firmer into my skin, as if he were searching for mercy with pleading hands and persuasive fingers. “For what it’s worth, I don’t find you expendable. You’re a very rare rose in a dying world of perished gardens.” His smile widened, showing teeth.
“Mmmm, I don’t know what that means, but thanks.” I rolled my head back and closed my eyes, reveling in the way he thumbed each striation of muscle and released the tension tightly wound within. Whatever a rose was, he made me feel like one.
“Allow me to rephrase… You’re like a perfect egg in a bowl of lukewarm oats.”
I covered my mouth to muffle the howl of laughter, practically falling out of his grip at the hilarity of the comparison. So ridiculous yet so accurate, it was a wonder he’d only known me for a few days.
“Are you…flirting with me?” I spoke through stifled giggles behind my hand.
“I don’t flirt, darling. I woo,” he replied with a wink. His tone of arrogance made something low in my stomach definitelywoo.
“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” I mumbled, resting my head back on my shoulder. “Or I would have kicked you in the face with my good leg for that ridiculous claim.”
His grin stretched wider, canines poking against lush lips in obvious gratification. “Is this why you demanded to come on this adventure? The views?”
