They were right, again.
Velaris at night was even more breathtaking than during the day. It wasn't a long walk to the bar, and Hope didn't mind it. Walking alongside Az, stealing an occasional glance at his profile.
He was always a cut of unimagined beauty, but the suit with the button-down collar was doing things to her insides that she was too afraid to admit. However, she didn't feel too guilty for her reaction. Seeing as she could smell his hormone levels rising, too.
Rhys and Feyre seemed to be having some internal conversation. In the past couple of weeks, Hope had learned more about Feyre and her gifts—how she possessed a bit from each High Lord from each court, including Rhys' ability to enter minds and read while manipulating thoughts.
Hope also shared some of the gifts she possessed, including her wolf, vampire, and witch heritage. She hadn't gone into exclusive detail but, at the very least, demonstrated a bit of her power just as Feyre displayed hers.
The bar was hopping with activity, and while Mor and Cas went to the front counter to order drinks, the rest of their group sat down at a massive circular table.
"So, I hope you don't mind," Rhys smiled crookedly as he sipped his first drink while Cas and Mor settled into a chair, "Az mentioned your family are known as the Original Vampires?"
Hope glanced at Az and smiled as his eyes widened a little. She shrugged, "You share some of your story. I may as well share mine." She'd been told there were deeper, more personal issues behind specific topics, and she quickly backed off.
If anyone understood complicated backstories, she did.
"Well, to begin…"
Hope told the story of Esther, her deal with her Great-Aunt Dahlia, and how she and Mikael came to be. How Esther had lost Henrik to a nearby werewolf pack, turning her children into vampires and all it entailed.
By her second drink, everyone was still watching her and listening intently. She told the story of Mikael and how he hated her father and how he'd become a vampire to hunt vampires. She moved into her father breaking the curse to become a hybrid and later having Hope through her mother, unaware it was possible for him to procreate.
The story of Hope being sacrificed out of fear of her…Dahlia's return and demise…The Hollow.
By her fifth drink, Hope stared down into her goblet.
"How much have you had to drink?" Az asked quietly. apparently, he just realized how many refills she'd had.
"It's fine," Hope slurred, "The last time I got drunk, I had thirty or so…"
"That may be true in your world," Rhys winced a little, "but Faerie wine is quite potent, even if you aren't a lightweight. We should have warned you."
Hope felt…fuzzy.
"S'okay, I'm just really good at telling stories. Where was I…oh yeah, then I moved to Mystic Falls. The town in Virginia where my dad broke the curse. I stayed at the Salvatore Boarding House and learned how to hone more of my magic." She flexed her fingers. When did she get ten of them?
"Maybe you should lie down…" Feyre offered gently.
"And then," Hope continued, "I killed a god."
"What?" Cas asked, blinking rapidly.
Hope exclaimed with sudden panic. "He tried to kill me first!"
She rubbed her temples. "Hm, I told you I don't like drunk me. I start telling way too many truths, which is probably a truth I shouldn't tell."
Smiling softly, Azriel nodded. "I'll go ahead and take her home."
"Woah, wait, I can't do that," Hope frowned, "I can't ruin your night. We didn't even get to dance."
Azriel chuckled. "You could never ruin my night, Hope."
"Okay," she grabbed his hand, "then dance with me."
Sighing softly, he smiled as he glanced at Rhys, who was grinning ear to ear, "You heard her, go dance."
"It is the least you could do," Mor smirked, then looked at Feyre and offered her hand. "May I have this dance, my dear High Lady."
Feyre grinned and took her hand. "But of course." She stood, winked at a smirking Rhys, and disappeared to the dance floor.
A moment later, they were all on the dance floor, laughing and twirling. Feyre landed in Rhys' arms, where they shared a tender, lingering kiss under the moonlight.
Hope rested against Azriel, and his solid body was probably the most comforting thing she'd ever come into contact with.
"I don't deserve that kind of love."
Az stopped swaying with her momentarily. His eyes never strayed from her face before she finally looked up at him.
"What makes you think that?" He asked dark brows furrowed over a serious gaze.
Hope took a deep breath and smiled sadly. "Everything I ever love dies or leaves. I don't think it's something I'm meant to have."
He parted his lips to counter, a sudden defense rising in his eyes.
"You know the last person I cared about?" Hope asked before he could say anything. "Lizzie. She was my best friend for the longest time and I always liked her in that way. We'd fool around," she shrugged, turning slowly with him, though her mind was lost in a memory, "but one night she confessed to me her undying love and…I panicked. I was barely sixteen, and I didn't know what to feel. I didn't reciprocate it well enough, and she left that night…"
Hope lifted her head to look up at him. "She went home. Drank away her misery, and hung herself in her closet."
Their movements stopped completely, and it seemed the rest of their group had stopped breathing too.
"People want me to accept a Mating bond I don't deserve."
"Hope-" Azriel started, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Oh, I've heard it all," she sighed, "it's not your fault, Hope; You did nothing wrong, Hope; If she weren't drunk it wouldn't have happened, Hope. They're probably right, but that doesn't change anything."
Azriel lightly squeezed her waist and then took her hands in his. "No more Faerie Wine." He said gently. Pulling her into his arms, he held her bridal style.
"Woah," Hope gasped as the world spun around her. She looked down at the floor and then up at his face, "How did you get up here?"
Az chuckled. "I'm going to take her to bed." He nodded to the group as Hope's jaw dropped.
"How scandalous…" Hope gasped.
Pulling a grin that didn't match the sadness in his eyes, he shook his head. "You just confessed something incredibly traumatic, and now you're telling jokes?"
"It's a defense mechanism."
"Goodnight, Hope," Cas called with a fond smile, to which she offered a vulgar gesture as Az walked through the door. She could hear their shaking laughter as they left, but going from the bar to the townhouse was a bit of a blur.
Had they winnowed here?
It didn't take long for Azriel to help her change into something more comfortable, and being the gentleman he was, he kept his eyes from straying and turned his back when needed.
Finally, Hope curled into the comforter.
"Will you stay?" She asked, watching him linger at the door.
"Would you like me to?" He asked gently, to which she nodded.
Azriel removed his outer jacket and his shoes before climbing into the bed beside her. Without hesitation, she snuggled closer to his side and let out a soft sigh as his arms wrapped lightly around her waist, tugging her closer.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, half her face smothered by his burly chest, "I didn't mean to get drunk. I get so depressed and dramatic."
Azriel smiled softly, his chin resting atop her head.
"The things we hold back are what trouble us the most. Just know I don't think of you any differently as I had before."
Hope tilted her head, looking up at him. "And how do you think of me?"
"I think," he stroked his thumb along the curve of her jaw, sending chills to every inch of skin she had, "that you are wise and daring. Fierce but loving." His hazel eyes seemed molten at that moment. "And you, Hope Mikaelson, are the deserving of love."
Hope parted her lips, ready to argue.
"I hold much guilt, too," he started before she could begin, "do you think I don't deserve love?"
Furrowing her brow, she shook her head. "Of course you do…"
"So why don't you?"
Hope tried and failed to keep her tears from falling. Speaking in a broken voice, she said. "I am the poison in your goblet, Azriel."
Holding her gaze, he leaned down and kissed her forehead softly.
"Then I will drink every last drop."