bloodlust

12

Feyre didn't leave her room much for the next few days, opting not to unintentionally run into Rhysand. She wouldn't know what to say or how to look at him now that he'd used her and she'd let him. Would he expect such things from her now? She was no toy to be played with, bargain or not. She vowed to herself then and there that she'd never let him make her feel this way again. 

On the third day of avoiding him, she quietly and briskly walked into the library, slipping into the back corner that'd become her favorite. She sat down in the cushy wide-set arm chair, curling her legs and leaning against one arm. She stared into the fire, thinking about everything and nothing. 

"I brought something for you," a deep, husky voice said from behind her, startling her out of her comfortable position. She spun, finding Azriel behind her chair with a book in hand. 

She blinked up at him, already having forgotten what a stupor his beauty brought over her. Gods, was he gorgeous. 

He arched a brow and her lips parted, remembering that he'd spoken to her. He'd said... He'd told her he brought her something? She looked him over quickly, eyes locking in on the large book in her hand. 

Her stomach dropped and her mouth dried. 

He held out the book in his large, veined hand, his grip making the book look much smaller than it was. It was a gorgeous book. Hand-painted with millions of tiny cerulean flowers interlocking. Obviously worn from time and love, but also clearly cared for. 

"For you," he said, gesturing for her to take the book from his hand. 

"Me?"

He just nodded, looking to the book and back to her. "It's about a princess trapped in a tower."

She narrowed her eyes. The corner of his lips twitched upward. 

"Don't worry, she's no ordinary princess," he said, a shy smile hiding behind his cool demeanor. 

She reached out and took the soft cover in her hands, looking up at Azriel with confusion. She'd barely spoken to him and he'd just brought her a book. 

"I appreciate the recommendation, but I'm... " She looked down at the book, trying to think of any excuse she could that didn't expose her lack of education. She didn't think she could bear the pitying looks she usually got from someone so effortlessly perfect. "Um, I'm reading something else right now. Can't mix mediums." She tried to laugh, but it came out a little flatter than intended. 

He didn't react at all, just let his eyes fall to the book in her lap. 

"I think you'll enjoy it," he said, turning on his heel and disappearing into the library stacks. Feyre groaned, slumping back into her chair and holding the book delicately in her hands. She didn't know what she was going to do when he ultimately asked her about the book's contents. 

Why had he given her a book, anyway? What did he gain from it? He didn't seem like someone who did things without care. 

And the book... it seemed so personal. She ran her fingers across the cover, tracing across the words when something magnificent happened. Her eyes blew wide. 

She stared down at the cover, tracing the words once more and gasping when the words rang in her brain. The voice was a woman- deep and melodic in tone. The Faerietales of Illyria. That was the title of the book, just like she'd read it. 

She cracked open the book to reveal the first page, tracing the small words marked there in actual ink. For my boy who makes starlight outshine the darkness. 

She wondered who must have written those words. Maybe they were for Azriel. Had he really so freely given her an item that must be so precious to him?

Continuing, she turned the page. The illustrations were charmed with a life-like motion, bringing the scenes on the page to life in vivid, detailed imagery. As promised, the story detailed the life of a princess trapped in a tower.

But she was no ordinary princess. 

She was a bride of flame and ash, a slayer of gnarled, deserving beasts. She wielded a fiery golden sword. With the help of loyal friends and hard-won trustees, she saved her kingdom from the Spider Queen. 

Feyre was so sucked into the story, she hadn't even noticed it had gotten so dark. The fire was barely illuminating the pages in front of her, but the story breathed enough life to keep her alight. She blinked, realizing how tired her eyes had become. She'd only made it through the first story, but it was all she could think about. 

She saw the blazing blue-green eyes of the princess when she closed her eyes. She thought of her power, her strength. 

Her eyes popped open. 

How had Azriel known she couldn't read? She looked over her shoulder, but he was long gone. She sighed, looking down at the great gift she'd been given. And what had he intended to show her with these stories? 

Too tired to do anything but close her eyes, she simply curled up in the chair next to the fire, hugging the book to her chest as she drifted off to sleep.