Page 44 of Ringmaster (The Kingdom of Shadow & Bone #1)

Mercy

Slats of light leak in through the curtains I forgot to draw last night.

After Azrael left, I returned to my mother’s room to help her get settled.

By the time we finished dinner, she was exhausted and ready for bed.

I tucked her in, wished her goodnight, and slipped back to my room across the hall.

But I couldn’t sleep. I curled up on the lounge beneath the window, gazing out at the moon and stars, lost in my own thoughts and dreams of a future with the man who finally uttered those three simple words: I love you.

I don’t remember climbing into bed, but I must’ve wandered to bed at some point… or Azrael moved me. He relaxes by the fire, tea in hand, a tray before him. He must have moved me. I smile to myself. I wonder if he spent the entire night watching over me—or if he’s only just returned to wait.

As if sensing my lingering gaze, his eyes dart across the room, locking with mine. “Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?”

I stretch, taking my time to respond. “I think I slept much more comfortably than I ever have, especially after you moved me.”

“Ahh, guilty. When I came to check on you after the show last night, I couldn’t resist moving you,” he confesses, as a tendril of shadow drifts over the bed to stroke my cheek.

I lean into the touch, welcoming it, finding comfort in the cool embrace. It brings a smile to his lips, and though I can’t explain how I know, I sense his satisfaction at my acceptance.

“I can feel you,” I whisper across the room, a teasing glint in my eyes at the discovery of yet another power I’ve come to possess.

Azrael beams brighter, his thumb circling the rim of his cup “What do you feel?”

Warmth and happiness wash over me as a sense of calm settles in my bones. “Your happiness. And peace. A burden you no longer feel.”

“I can feel you too,” he admits, eyes twinkling.

“Why is that?” I ask.

Unease crosses his face, but he’s quick to smooth it away. “I assume it’s our bond.”

“Why does that bother you? Is it because you own my soul now?” The words slip out like a splinter—sharper than I meant them to be.

He takes a sip from his cup, places it on a saucer, then tilts his head to one side. “It doesn’t bother me.”

He avoids the question about my soul, but I’m not ready to lay the subject to rest, so I press on. “Are you connected to all the souls you own? Do you own other souls?”

“Come sit with me and I will explain.” His shadows wrap around me, lifting me from the bed and delivering me to the empty chair.

The velvet of the plush chair is soft against my skin, the small fire warming away the goosebumps his shadows left behind.

I can feel the heat of his stare devouring every inch of me as I sit on display—for him and only him to admire.

The words are a whispering echo in my mind, a confession from his lips: he loves me.

Even though he’s imprisoned my soul, it’s because he loves me.

“Tea?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“Only if it includes answers. You’re avoiding my question, Azrael.” I lift a brow at him, and he chuckles.

“I’m not avoiding it, I promise. Yes, I own other souls. And before you ask—many. No, I won’t give you an exact number.” He rattles off his responses casually, glossing over the connection.

“And do you feel the other souls? Can they feel you the way I do?”

He picks up his cup, finishes it, then pours another for us both. “To answer your question: no. We cannot feel one another the way you and I do.”

“Why?” I ask, reaching for the cream and dropping a sugar cube into the steaming tea.

Azrael sighs, a pained expression painted on his face, and I can sense there’s something he doesn’t want to tell me… he’s holding back.

“Please, no secrets,” I beg.

“Tea first then, darling. Secrets once I know you’re awake enough for them.” He concedes, the playful tone returning to his voice.

I reach for my teacup, bring it to my lips, and drain it. Placing the empty cup back on the saucer, I reply, “I’m ready.”

“Eat something,” he pleads, handing me a scone.

My eyes widen, a pastry for breakfast. I could get used to this life. When I take a bite, it melts in my mouth. Cooked to perfection, I moan.

“You like those?”

”I love these. I’ve only ever had them a few times. Do you eat these everyday?“ The questions burst from my lips, but Azrael doesn’t mind.

He simply smiles along with me, basking in our shared excitement together.

My heart feels like it might burst. He’s too good to be true.

Just sitting with him like this—spending a morning together, waking to find him in my room—it’s more than I could’ve ever imagined.

I’ve longed for this kind of happiness for so long.

I eat a second scone, and Azrael pours me another cup of tea. Blissfully, I curl into the chair and take a sip. “I’m ready.”

“Did you enjoy breakfast? Would you like it again tomorrow?” he asks, still sidestepping the answers I’m seeking.

“I loved it. My only request is fresh berries. Mother and I always have fresh berries from the garden.” I take another sip.

“Well then,” he says, reaching to the try and lifting the lid to a glass bowl.

Fresh berries fill the bowl. I try not to sulk as I pop a few in my mouth. It would be rude to turn them down after asking. I sigh, before finishing my tea.

“I’m full. I’m awake. And I’m ready,” I announce, waiting to see if he has another excuse up his sleeve.

He doesn’t. Reaching for me, his shadows lift me from my spot, depositing me onto his lap as his arms engulf me in an unexpected embrace.

I lean into him, enchanted by the way we fit together.

It simply feels right. He kisses my cheek softly, then his hand finds mine, and soon his lips are brushing against my fingers.

“Are you sure you want to know?” he asks.

“Yes. Tell me, Azrael.”

He blinks, allowing his lids to close for a few seconds longer than usual. “Promise you won’t hate me.”

“I could never hate you.” I brush his cheek with my hand, coaxing him to look at me.

When our eyes meet, a zing of electricity surges between us.

He takes a deep, forbidding breath. “We can feel each other because you’re not just a soul I own,” he sighs. “You’re my mate, Mercy.”

“Mate,” I stutter. “Like your soulmate?”

“Yes,” he answers, hanging his head.

“And you think this will upset me?” I ask, confused.

Azrael looks down at me, guilt covers his face as he murmurs, “You aren’t upset?”

“I’m not upset,” I reply.

He holds me tighter and kisses my head. “You’re the light to my darkness, “ he whispers, lips barely brushing my ear. “Thank you for accepting me, for finding a way to love a monster.”

His words shatter my heart into a thousand tiny pieces. How can he possibly see himself as a monster, when all he’s ever done is show me kindness and protect me from the horrors of this world?

“You’re not a monster, Azrael. You saved me. I love you, and I’ve always loved you.”

He nuzzles into the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, kissing me softly, and we just breathe—existing together. I could spend the entire day right here.

“Me too,” he whispers, answering my thought.

“You can hear my thoughts?” I yelp.

“You mean you didn’t say that out loud?” He runs a nervous hand through his hair.

I shake my head. “I guess there’s no sense in asking if you’re sure about the mate thing. If you can hear my thoughts, then I don’t doubt it.”

“For what it’s worth, it’s true. The Fates confirmed everything,” he says, tenderly running the back of his hand down my cheek.

I lean into his touch, savoring the tiny pulses of magic buzzing between us. I wonder if I should tell him the Fates visited me in my dreams. I decide to wait for now. I don’t think he’ll approve of what they had to say, and I don’t want to ruin our morning.

“I’m sorry for being a terrible host last night. How about a tour of the house, lunch in the garden, and then I’ll show you around the circus grounds?” His eyes glitter with secrets untold.

“It sounds like a lovely day,” I reply, excited to see the rest of the manor.

“Great. Dress, and bring your mother. I’ll be waiting for you on the landing at the end of the hall.

” He helps me off his lap. “I had a wardrobe prepared for you. Pick something out, and I’ll see you soon.

” Before he turns to leave, he kisses me gently on the cheek, as if leaving for—even a short while—pains him.

I understand. I feel exactly the same way. I hurry to the closet, selecting one of the dresses, then retrieve my mother. She’s already dressed and waiting. There’s a tray of half-eaten breakfast on the table in her room, and she looks well rested.