Page 30 of Ringmaster (The Kingdom of Shadow & Bone #1)

Mercy

In the garden's solitude, the world is still quietly waking up. I slipped out after Mother woke me, needing space to clear my thoughts while tending to the soil. It’s the best place to untangle this web of information and make sense out of everything that’s happened.

A sigh shudders from my body. I don’t even know who he is, and I sold him my soul.

My shoulders sink. What will Mother say when I tell her? Regret builds inside of me.

My deal with Azrael surfaces. Was it really a choice?

I keep telling myself it was. But is there any ending where I wouldn’t do everything possible to escape—to run away with the boy I fell in love with?

I sigh. The boy who stole my heart without trying, just by showing up and teaching me what stability feels like.

Who nurtured my heart so one day it could love him in return.

I’ve seen the way he looks at me, and now it’s obvious—those feelings were always there.

He healed me enough to love, and I gave him the confidence to put me back together time and time again.

The other night I wanted him… even when I feared him.

Even as every warning bell in my mind screamed no, my heart whispered yes.

And my soul listened. The weight of that exchange presses down on me.

I didn’t even ask the cost. But would the cost have changed my answer?

It’s difficult to accept, but the answer is no.

I need to let go of my regret in order to embrace the future.

There’s no telling how much time we have left together.

A warm breeze blows through the small orchard, rustling the leaves and branches.

I shiver, pretending it’s blowing away my regret—washing it from my mind.

A second gust hits me. It’s going to be a windy day.

My thoughts wander to the docks, imagining the choppy water along the shore beating against my legs as I wade with Miriam.

I have to find a way to say goodbye to her.

Birds chirp loudly, calling to one another as they scavenge for breakfast. I leave a few overripe berries out for them to steal while I work, gathering the rest of the food from our garden.

Wiping my hands on the cloth I brought with me, I gather the final basket and place it with the others I gathered this morning.

The wind blows against my back as I turn with an empty bucket for gathering peaches.

It pushes me toward the orchard. I admit, the orchard is drawing me in—pulling against my will, forcing me forward.

A warm tingling buzzes at my fingertips, magic awakening to answer the call.

I can sense I’m no longer alone, but when I look around, the garden remains empty.

The wind picks up again, stronger this time.

It whips my hair across my cheek, tangling strands in my mouth like it’s trying to silence my thoughts.

Maybe it knows. Maybe the trees whisper secrets I haven’t dared speak aloud.

Every leaf sounds like a warning. Every creak of the branches feels like a ticking clock.

I’m not alone. My pulse quickens, magic rising in response. I look around in every direction, but as far as I can see, there’s no one.

Silky-soft shadows embrace me in their greedy clutches, sliding over my body—wrapping around and around, as if offering reassurance as to why I’m no longer alone.

They snake around my ankles, whispering promises I don’t understand.

My skin prickles beneath their silk. And instead of fear, a strange calm floods me—like my soul recognizes what my mind still doubts.

I follow their trail with my eyes, and there—high above me, half-swallowed by the canopy—is Azrael. Watching. Waiting. Like he’s been there forever. Nestled between the branches of a large tree, he leans against the trunk, twirling a peach between his fingers.

His hair is a disheveled mess. His clothes are wrinkled from sitting in the tree for so long. The smirk on his lips is addictive. I can’t look away. The shadows swirl around him, only allowing me to catch the glimpses they want me to see.

Azrael takes a slow bite from the peach. His lips pressing into the soft flesh as the juice runs out from the corners of his mouth, dribbling down his arm. In one swift movement, he leaps from the branch, landing with a thud several feet away.

“Don’t scream.” Azrael’s voice is low and delicious. “I’m sorry for sneaking around.” He runs a clean hand through his hair nervously. “I needed to see you.”

“Why did you have to see me?” I whisper, lost in his blue eyes that burn right through me.

Azrael takes another bite. He licks the juice from where it trickles down his hand again, not in any sort of hurry to answer me. I eye him warily, heat flushing across my cheeks as I watch his tongue trace a clean line.

“I was worried about you. Last night was a lot, and even though I knew what would happen, it didn’t stop me from being concerned.” He confesses, but I can tell from the way he drops his gaze—there’s more he’s not telling me.

Contemplating whether to push for more of an answer, I silently study his face, looking for cracks in his story.

“You shouldn’t be here, Azrael. I’m fine, and if anyone sees you…” I gulp, letting my voice trail off, unable to bring myself to utter what would happen to both of us if he’s discovered.

“Am I allowed to worry about you?” Azrael’s voice hinges on defensive and hurt.

Hurting him was never my intention. But when my father makes a rule, he expects it to be followed.

This is not one I want to be caught breaking.

He was unhinged enough at dinner, and with only a matter of days between now and Azrael rescuing me, it’s not a risk worth taking.

If he finds out, there’s no telling what he’ll do.

Gods, what if he locks me away? Move up the arrangement?

What if he kills Azrael just to prove he still controls me?

A man who has no actual claim to me won’t control me. He’s not my father—which means if I run from him, there’s nothing he can do to force my return should he find me.

Feeling empowered, I stand up straighter. I roll my shoulders back and tilt my chin to look into Azrael’s eyes. Filled with determination, I make a silent promise to never allow any of those things to happen. I refuse to be a pawn to anyone any longer. Well… anyone but fate, it would seem.

He has to get out of here before we are seen.

We can’t jeopardize our only opportunity for a future together.

Destiny is depending on us, and if we both fail, Azrael will lose his life.

The thought of losing Azrael overwhelms my emotions, and a flash of concern falls over his face.

It’s something like gut-wrenching desperation taking hold of him.

“Mercy, I’m sorry. What’s wrong?” he gasps, reaching for me, shadows and all.

I wait for their cool, familiar embrace. Funny how the dark, inky tendrils bring me comfort—when I should probably fear them.

Moments later, his knuckles graze my cheek, and I’m in his arms. Warmth fills me.

At last, I’m right where I belong. My mind quiets, and soothing relief washes over me.

I don’t even remember why I was so upset a moment ago.

His muscles are hard against my body. He smells so good already, and the peach juice still clinging to parts of his skin makes him smell even better.

My mouth waters at the idea of licking the juice from his fingers—or better yet, his lips.

Azrael kisses my forehead, then pulls away. “Whatever I said, that upset you… I’m sorry,” he whispers.

He pulls back to take another bite, allowing the juice to seep onto his lips and drip down his chin. It’s as if he read my thoughts. My head spins as he deliberately captures my mouth with his.

I swear both our heartbeats race as we lose ourselves in the kiss.

He searches for answers, but it doesn’t demand—it listens.

Like he’s reading me, waiting for the exact second I need more.

And I do. I need more than I’ve ever let myself admit.

This kiss asks me a question I don’t have the courage to answer aloud: Do I want this?

Do I want him? Every part of me already knows the answer.

My body screams for him, begging for more than either of us is willing to give.

I break our kiss this time as he spins us around, desperate for more control. “It’s okay. I’m fine. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smiles, biting his lip. A low chuckle rumbles between us. “Don’t lie to me, darling. I can tell you’re not telling the truth.”

His confession rocks me. He can tell if I lie? How am I going to do my part when the time comes—without Azrael finding out—if I can’t lie to him? There’s no way he’ll allow me to go through with what I have to do.

“Shhhh. Whatever’s on your mind, confide in me. I don’t want you to hurt like this. It pains me, Mercy. It physically pains me to feel your emotions.” His lips brush against mine gently as he mutters his soft pleas.

I drop the bucket. Why can he feel my emotions?

If he can feel mine… does that mean I can feel his too?

Shit. I can’t deal with this. Instead, I do the only thing I can think of.

I kiss him—in hopes he’ll forget whatever he’s feeling and let it go.

I throw everything I have into it. Nibbling his lip, caressing my tongue over his, allowing him to kiss me deeper than he’s ever kissed me before.

My body’s on fire—ignited with need. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want Azrael right now.

“Mercy,” he moans.