A Court of Magnolias and Ash

Five

Nesta:

I slammed the door behind me, as if a piece of wood would keep the monsters out. My spine rested against the smooth surface, stiffening as I stared at the cedar colored boots Cassian gave me. The lump in my throat enlarged, my vision blurring—I'm a fool.

The burning sensation in my feet flourished, climbing up my legs until I moved. Pacing, I needed a release. Back and forth, until the floor beneath me discolored with scratches. The more I thought of what happened during training, of admitting that even just looking at him killed me, the more it shook me to my core.

I've told him enough, I've let him in enough—why bother letting him in further? When the only outcome of letting him in would crush my soul? Heart? And then Mor—what does she want? To be with Cassian? Azriel? Both? My heart sunk as I bit my lower lip, endless questions twisted within.

The window to the right of the bed was large enough for me to fit through. A prettily decorated prison, that's all this place is, all it's become. I unhooked the sterling silver latch, and pushed forward.

I needed to escape. I tilted my body out of the window, giant bushes lined the bottom. I peered closer, my vision adjusting as it magnified every leaf, every sparkling-white jasmine petal. Even towards the tiny insects that trailed around the stems.

"What am I?" I shakily whispered to myself.

I ignored the knock on my door and again when the second one sounded. My sharp vision dulled, letting me see normally from the angle I stood. I could make it. If I land properly, I could survive a jump from this height.

But where would I go? Could I really leave my sisters? The only family I have left? The knocking persisted as I ducked back into my room. My eyes shifted from the window to the door as it cracked open.

"May I come in?"

"Who is it?" I asked, already hearing the fading tendrils of shadow that Azriel traveled through. They sounded like whispers, what they were saying though—I still couldn't make out.

"Azriel," he replied, opening it just far enough for him to fit through and close it softly behind him. Azriel's raven hair stopped just above his ears, his hazel eyes darker than Cassian's, with what, I'm not too sure.

"What do you want?" I asked coldly, if I'm made of spite and ice then I might as well act accordingly.

Azriel's neutral expression soothed, becoming completely unreadable, "I wanted to talk to you," he replied softly.

"I'm in the middle of something. If you don't mind..." My sharpened voice faded as I hid my trembling hands behind me.

"I'm not Cassian, Nesta." He gave a quick smile, the corner of his eyes scrunching briefly.

I swallowed hard, pressing my lips into a slim line before I attempted another rude comment.

"I hate eating steak after a battle," he stood still, his arms down by his side, watching me. "It's what leaks out onto my plate, the blood—that's the hardest part."

My throat tightened, the sudden urge to cough for air came and went with my sorrow. How did he know? Did Cassian tell him? Did they all know? Questions filled the aching hole in my chest, increasing in size. "Then maybe you should stick to vegetables," I offered coolly. A penetrating heat touched my fingers, I pressed my nails into my palms.

Azriel ignored my comment, "it usually takes me weeks, sometimes months depending on the damage I've done. How many souls I've taken." He shrugged, stretching the battle leathers that covered his shoulders.