The evening turned to nearly two in the morning as the Inner Circle poured over the books. Some members of the Inner Circle found themselves lying on the floor to read while others curled up on the couch.
Nesta read on the couch, too, but it was her own pleasure. Not that Hope minded; she didn't expect anyone to help her. Their kindness was…unexpected.
"You won't find anything, you know," Nesta said as she stood, closing her book, and turned to face her.
Hope looked up, her eyes burning from the sleep deprivation.
"Amren has searched for centuries for a way to her dimension. If she can't find a way, you certainly can't."
"Nesta…" Feyre warned.
Nesta continued, "They're only humoring you. Looking for an answer that doesn't exist because of what you are to Azriel."
Something in Azriel's demeanor changed. His relaxed posture slowly stiffened as he turned toward Nesta- his features twisting into something cold and hard. Hope had never intended to cause grief within their group, so she quickly cut in.
"It's not my intention to waste anyone's time. I'm grateful for any help I receive, but I can't just…give up. I can't close the door on my family and walk away."
"They're probably already dead."
"Then the least I can do is bury them."
What was this woman's problem? What could Hope have possibly done to make her hate her so much?
Rubbing the sudden headache behind her eyes, she closed her book with a soft thud. "Thank you for trying to help me." She said to the room, and though she tried, she couldn't muster a smile.
The power and frustration she withheld were starting to get to her.
Excusing herself, she disappeared into the room she'd woken up in and closed the door. Ignoring the voices that began soon after, she went into the bathroom and shut that door, too.
Hope ran the water as hot as she could handle before stripping down and slipping into silky lavender bubbles. She groaned softly as she sank to the bottom, the tub surprisingly deep enough to cover every inch of herself. Dunking her head, she let the water run through her hair and over her face.
It was amazing how powerful a simple bath and clean hair could be. Hope stepped out, toweled off, and dressed into another gown. This one was more her style—midnight blue and littered with stars.
Hope combed her fingers through her damp hair as she left the bathroom but froze mid-step.
Azriel's gaze was focused on her face. Only her face. "I wanted to…check on you."
She couldn't stop the flush that colored her cheeks. Forcing a small smile, she nodded. "I'm alright. I just needed some space. Not from you or anything," she quickly backtracked, earning a small smile from him, "Is she always like that?"
"Nesta has her own issues to work through," Azriel murmured.
Hope nodded slowly, sitting down on the edge of the bed across from where he stood against the wall. "That I can understand."
They were quiet for a long moment as Hope continued to comb through her hair numbly. Though it tangled every passing attempt, she didn't pay much attention, lost in thought.
"I'm not going home, am I?" Hope asked, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes.
Azriel met her stare and swallowed hard, waiting for a beat longer before answering in a quiet voice. "It isn't right for me to give you false hope."
Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as Azriel knelt before her, his hands resting lightly on either side of her legs. She noticed then the scars that riddled his fingers, but then those fingers reached up and lightly took hold of her chin.
His hold was gentle, and he tilted her head back, leaving her no choice but to meet his eyes. "No matter the odds, I will search with you."
Hope couldn't keep her eyes open as the calloused pad of his thumb glided across her damp cheek. Taking with it the tears she'd shed.
"Sleep," he murmured, "find rest."
Hope wasn't sure when she'd fallen asleep, only that the swirling caress of shadows was the warmest touch she'd ever known.