Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
I once heard that when Nyx and Thanatos were married, the priestess could actually see the threads of Fate tangled between them as she mixed their blood. A fable, I had always thought, until today.
—Ana, Priestess to the Usurper King, Arcadia
“Shh, Nya. Look, it’s gone, it’s gone…”
She was vaguely aware she was thrashing and crying when she woke up, that Morgen was murmuring in her ear, but his words didn’t make any sense. What was gone? And why was her skin so ice-cold when his was blazing warm?
She forced her eyes open, trying to make sense of it. The room was dim, the torches burning low, and she had no idea what time it was. It was nearly impossible to tell in the cave system. When she touched her cheeks, she flinched. Her tears had turned to shards of ice against her skin.
“Morgen?”
He was smoothing down her hair, tugging the blankets tight around her, as if to ward off the strange, frigid chill. “You’re alright.”
“What happened?”
He paused for too long. “You were dreaming.”
“About what? You saw my dream the other night, the one about Carus. Did you see this one?”
“I don’t…I don’t think so.”
She lifted her head. “What do you mean, you don’t think so?”
He took a deep breath. “I mean—”
But he cut himself off as someone banged what sounded like metal against the stone just outside the room. She jolted, but Morgen shook his head and muttered, “It’s only Carus,” before slipping out of the bed and shrugging on a loose pair of pants.
Thankfully, she remembered she was completely naked before she accidentally flashed her newly realized brother, who was speaking in low tones to Morgen at the entryway. She heard Carus give a loud, exasperated sigh and mutter, “Of course I’m right. Just stay here.”
Once he was gone and Morgen turned back to face her, she asked, “What was that about?”
Morgen grimaced, shifting back and forth on his feet. “He’s going to have Imeria spread a rumor.”
“Oh. I assume about what we…”
“Yes.”
She cleared her throat. “Well, ah, that’s good, since I’d really like to avoid any more attempts on my life.”
He crossed back to the bed, his fingers brushing his neck over the exact spot where she’d drawn blood. “That’s not going to be an issue again.”
It took her a moment to realize exactly what he meant; that now, if someone tried to kill her, they would also be threatening his life. His soldiers might not trust her, but she was fairly certain most were loyal enough not to turn on him too.
“I suppose that’s good.”
He nodded, and she sat up, not realizing she had lost hold of the sheets until his eyes dipped down and darkened. She made to grab the sheets, but he stopped her, shaking his head.
“I should get dressed,” she whispered.
He traced his fingertips down her collarbone, ghosting a light touch over her breasts. “Or not. Ever.”
She was fairly sure he was trying to make a joke, but it didn’t land.
His pupil-spread eyes were too wide, rapt as they slid over her body, and when he took a breath, it was audible.
She tried to push down the overwhelming ache already spreading like liquid heat across her body.
It had been probably only a few hours, yet she wanted him inside her again.
Someone just outside the room spoke in a harsh whisper and then giggled. Nya stiffened, and Morgen shut his eyes and muttered, “Busybodies,” before adding, louder this time, “I know you are well aware I can hear you!”
Nya pulled the sheet over herself as the voices faded along with quick footsteps. He shook his head before dropping his forehead to her shoulder.
“It appears Imeria took Carus’ order to spread gossip to another level,” he mumbled.
“Well, it’ll probably work more efficiently. Pretty hard to dispute a rumor we had sex when multiple people obviously just saw me naked in your bed.”
“Mmph,” he grumbled.
She bit her lip then quickly stopped, remembering last night.
If he saw, if he reminded her only he was supposed to do that.
They would never leave this bed, and she needed to create some distance until she figured out how to make sense of what had happened between them—what she was feeling.
Far too much, probably, given his recent betrayals and lies.
Even if he’d had his reasons, she couldn’t forgive him so quickly. Could she?
She wondered if he sensed the sudden tension in her body, because he lifted his head and sat back, eyeing her. “There’s a few pieces of clean clothing that will fit you on top of the dresser.”
She didn’t ask why he had clothing for her even though she wanted to. She needed some distance to think. When he was this close, she went back to her old habit of forgetting and forgiving far too quickly.
She left the warm tangle of sheets and quickly dressed in the loose shirt and thick leather pants she found laid out. When she reached back to redo her braids, he was already behind her, brushing her hands away.
“Let me,” he murmured.
She swallowed, her throat tight. “Alright.”
Neither of them spoke, but each brush of his fingers against the back of her neck made her shiver, and she swore she felt his hands shake a few times.
Last night had changed things; she supposed now, it was just a matter of acknowledging it.
Neither of them were good at doing that, though, so perhaps they would exist in this new state of tension for another four years.
He stepped back before she had even realized he’d finished, and she turned, opening her mouth then shutting it before she could speak. Thankfully, he didn’t notice, busy knotting half of his hair back and searching for a shirt. He had just located one when Carus burst into the room unannounced.
She jumped, and Morgen started to say, “Carus, we talked about barging in. You seemed to have it down earlier this morning, so I don’t see—”
“Principals,” Carus panted between heavy breaths. “Outside.”
Morgen’s expression immediately hardened, the mix of humor and irritation replaced by harsh resolve. “Who?” His voice was curt and demanding.
“Bella and Janis.”
“Sol?”
Carus shook his head. “Not yet, but I’d bet the bastard is hanging around close by to fortify if need be.”
“Understood,” Morgen said shortly. “Two minutes.”
Carus nodded once and promptly left the room, though Nya was certain he wasn’t far. When Morgen turned back to her, she immediately said, “I’m not staying back.”
“Nya—”
“No.” Her voice brooked no argument. “This is about me too now, and I will not let you shove me somewhere for safe keeping every time there’s danger.”
To his credit, he only hesitated a few seconds before relenting. “Fine. But do not engage with them, Nya. I’m serious. The principals may appear human, but they’ve been alive for several millennia and are very good at manipulating people.”
“I would never mistake them for human,” she said, thinking back to Thanatos and Nyx.
Though both gods had exhibited genuine emotions and obviously cared for her mother, there was still an unmistakable ancient coldness to them.
If that was what the principals were like when they loved someone, she didn’t want to know how they appeared when angry. She supposed she was about to find out.
Morgen inhaled sharply. “Good.”
It took him barely a minute to dress and attach more weapons than she could keep track of to his body with belts and harnesses—a variation of daggers, throwing knives, and even a dart she assumed contained some kind of poison, which he placed carefully in his breast pocket.
When he was done, he approached her, brow creased in concentration as he knelt.
“Step up.”
“What—” But then, she saw a weapons harness in his hands and shut her mouth.
He slid the leather belt up her body, then tugged the clasps tight. His mouth was set in a thin line as he stood then placed three small daggers in various pockets around her waist. He hardly looked at her as he stepped back and picked up a heavy sword leaning by the doorway.
“Are you ready?”
“Let’s go,” she said, her voice tight.
She followed him into the hallway, finding Carus bouncing on his heels. As soon as he saw her, he glanced sharply at Morgen. “She’s coming with?”
“She is even more wrapped up in this mess than she was before because of you two, so yes,” Nya snapped. “Where are our parents?”
Carus’ nostrils flared. “You don’t understand what we’re walking into here, sweetheart.”
“I asked you a question.”
He narrowed his eyes. “They’re meeting us in the mess hall.”
She didn’t bother to speak after that, and neither did he or Morgen. There wasn’t time to argue about whether she followed them or not, and she knew it as well as they did.
When they arrived in the mess hall, it was eerily silent, despite being filled to the brink with armed soldiers, obviously on standby.
Her parents lingered near the front of the crowd, her mother standing with her arms crossed against the cavern wall and her father mirroring her.
She could tell they were speaking; the odd, silent twitches of their faces and the prolonged eye contact were easy tells, though she couldn’t hear down their pathway at the moment.
“What are they doing?” Carus asked just before they reached them.
Her lips twitched, despite the situation. “Talking. They do this a lot, sometimes without realizing it. You’ll get used to it eventually.”
“Strange,” Carus muttered.
She glanced sidelong at him. “Did you tell them what happened yesterday?”
He shook his head. “I figured I’d let you have that honor. Later, when we’re not about to have this fun little confrontation.”
“Right,” she said, but her voice was barely more than a rasp.
Morgen approached her parents and asked curtly, “The dragons—are they ready?”
Her father nodded. “They’re waiting with Varax.”
“I don’t know if it was worth them hiding,” her mother said, brow raised. “Bella and Janis will likely sense them no matter what, and even if they didn’t, Sol surely will.”