That first sip of blood was Heaven in a cup. Hope would have moaned if she hadn't been sitting at a dining table before a group of perfect strangers.
By perfect, she meant perfect.
Did everyone here have an ethereal beauty she'd never one day dream of matching? Well, at least she had her personality, as wounded as it was now. After everything that happened in the past forty-eight hours, she'd been sure death would have been better than facing reality.
Each small sip she took was one of pure control, forcing herself not to chug it. Ensuring her face remained a mask of what she felt was no easy task. To keep her eyes from changing or her fangs from protruding. She'd managed to do it over time with practice.
With almost all eyes on her, Hope could feel the creeping, crawling feeling of their attention. She pursed her lips into a thin line and tapped her cup.
Feyre bit her lip. "We're just waiting for Azriel to return."
Azriel.
The name she'd heard on the beach. The memory of his voice whispered in her mind. She gritted her teeth, forcing the thought from her mind because, instinctively…she knew. She hadn't had to hear his voice claim her as his.
Hope had felt it in her soul.
"I'm sure she can't wait for that." Nesta quipped from the couch.
Hope couldn't stop the smile that touched her lips- it was unreal. This person, whom she'd never met before, seemed to have no problem speaking her mind.
"At least you're not shy." Hope retorted.
Nesta's head slowly turned, settling a dagger-sharp glare at her, but Hope merely smiled as she took a long drag of her blood. The flush in her cheeks returned with each renewing sip.
She didn't miss the sly smirk that graced Rhysand's mouth, but that was completely forgotten when he walked in.
Hope let her eyes drift to Azriel as he approached the table, though he didn't look at her as he sat down.
"We're all here." Rhysand nodded.
"Oh, good." Hope could hear the eye-roll from Nesta from where she sat, but everyone ignored her as they turned their attention to Hope.
Again.
"You say you're from a place called Louisiana?" Rhysand asked, leaning back in his chair.
Suddenly, she felt a pair of burning hazel eyes on her. Eyes she refused to meet.
Hope nodded slowly, distracting herself with another sip of blood.
"No such place exists in this world."
Swallowing, Hope ran her tongue out of her teeth before opening her mouth. "This world…" She trailed off.
"Pyrthian," Feyre answered calmly.
Silently, Hope looked around the table, and her eyes finally settled on Azriel. Secretly she'd been hoping he hadn't been paying attention to her, but his gaze was fixed. A gaze so intense he almost looked angry.
Maybe he was.
She pulled her eyes away with force and shook her head.
"I don't know where that is."
Amren sighed as she stood from her spot on the couch. She walked over to a chest, leaned down, opened it, and rifled through its contents.
"I told you, she's not of this world. Likely not of this dimension," Amren said, tossing Cassian the map. " Who put you here, girl? Was it a punishment?"
Amren's stared at her, brows puzzled.
Not answering, Hope looked down at the sprawling map Cassian had laid out before her. She searched the sketch, examining its terrain.
Her frown deepened. None of it was familiar.
"I fell through another dimension?" Hope asked, looking up to meet Amren's still studious gaze.
"So it would seem." Rhysand frowned, watching her. "And if that's the case, Amren has a very good question…what did you do to be sent here?"
All eyes were on her, and Hope couldn't stop the scoff that made its way up her throat.
"What did I do?" Hope asked as she set the goblet down and ran her fingers through her still-dirty, sea-salt-encrusted hair.
The memory of the blinding white light surfaced. The look on Freya's tear-stained face threatened her own, but she bit down her tongue. Refusing to let them shed. Shaking her head, she continued to stare at the map.
"I think she's in shock." Nesta mused.
Hope looked up and no longer saw the humor in her little quips and said, "Do me a favor, and shut the fuck up."
All eyes around the table widened, but Hope didn't drop Nesta's gaze.
"You have no idea who you're talking to." Came Nesta's breathy response.
Hope remained steady in her resolve. "Don't mistake my patience for weakness."
The room was quiet as Hope looked at Rhysand. She hadn't dropped her gaze dismissively from Nesta. She'd merely moved to something more constructive by dismissing the woman on the couch.
Nesta stood with her book and left without another word.
"This is insanity, but it's true," she said to the table, though her eyes were on Rhysand, "I brought myself here by accident." Hope shook her head. "Someone had opened a portal to Hell in my city. Demons and Hellhounds were unleashed, and I had to find a way to close it. I knew the amount of power I would use would have consequences, but I thought it would be a permanent death- not tearing a hole into space and time."
Hope looked down at the map again and lightly rubbed her fingers into her temples. She wasn't entirely certain that the portal had closed completely before the tear happened or if her family was still alive with the creatures still running through the city.
"You did that?" Amren asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "Wielding a power like that should have killed you, girl. Not possible."
Hope waved her hand dismissively. "It did."
The table exchanged a glance and then stared at her.
Glancing up, she avoided Azriel's intense eyes.
"I'm not like you," she sighed softly, "but I'm far from human."
Feyre nodded understandingly and offered a tight smile before looking at Azriel, who gave a slight nod.
"We know things are…confusing," Feyre began, "we'll give you some privacy." She stood, as did the others.
They slowly trickled out of the room, but not before she heard Mor say, "Anyone who can stand up to Nesta is okay in my book."
The front door closed and she and Azriel were alone in the townhouse.
Finally, she dared to look at him. It seemed his gaze hadn't drifted since the last time she'd snuck a glance at him.
"What I said on the beach," Azriel finally murmured, "doesn't have to mean anything."
Hope stared at him- she would be lying if she said her heart didn't sink just a little. Why should it, though? Wasn't it insane to think someone could be a person's other half by looking at them?
Azriel's voice was as low and rough as gravel as he continued, "I want you to be aware that…where I'm from, the term Mates is not used lightly, and though I'm connected to you, you always have a choice."
Heat flushed the back of her neck, his words weighing on her soul.
Taking a deep breath, Hope nodded slowly, suddenly wishing she was far away from his eyes, which seemed to travel beneath her skin.
"I need to get home…"
Azriel was quiet for a long moment before nodding, a soft smile curving his perfectly shaped lips.
"Then I will help you do so."