Chapter 6 Nyssa #2
“No, Nightshade. Nothing about this is wrong,” he murmured. “But… I didn’t say those words out loud.”
My brows furrowed as I replayed the last minute, my core clenching at the memory of his searing kiss.
Wait.
My gaze crashed back to his in equal parts horror and awe when I realised he was right: I’d heard his godsdamned thought.
Holy fuck. Can you hear mine too? My eyes flitted between his, impatience making me jittery.
Caelus remained silent, however — showing no signs of having heard me.
I snapped my eyelids shut, focusing harder.
“Nightshade? Are—”
“Shh!”
Mercifully, Caelus fell silent as I followed the stream of consciousness in my mind all the way to its edges, to where I usually felt Velira lingering. Right beside her thick, violet thread, there now lingered a second one — golden and glowing.
My storm-wielder.
This time, I reached out, visualising tangling my fingers in its vibrancy.
Can you hear me now, taser boy?
Caelus’ answering laugh filled me with a joy so bright I wasn’t sure which of us it stemmed from and my eyes flew open to a sight so beautiful it rendered me speechless.
Against the backdrop of a midmorning sky, clear and blue, Caelus’ head was thrown back in a triumphant hoot. His short, white locks danced around his face — creased in happiness — and his elation hummed along the invisible tether between us, matched only by mine.
“This is brilliant!” he yelled, echoing off the peaks of Mount Olympus.
“I’m sure it’ll come in handy more than once,” I agreed with a grin.
He surged forward, our lips crashing together once more.
Indeed it will. Imagine how it will feel to have my mouth between your legs, tasting your desire while you can feel mine through our tethered souls, as I tell you just how sweet you taste on my tongue.
I immediately went limp in his arms, my core throbbing mercilessly at the imagery his words and my mind had conjured.
Curse those five minutes.
Caelus laughed, breaking the kiss, though not before stealing one last, tender peck, and set me back down on questionably shaky legs. He reached for my hand, interlocked our fingers, and entered the dim mountain doorway.
Later, he promised, leading the way down a dusty spiral staircase, his feet always sure of the next step.
“You’ve been here before.”
Caelus grunted. “Mmm. Many times. Most recently, when Athena and I busted Nike out of the very cells we’re heading to now.”
Honestly, if my brows kept rising in surprise, I’d need to implement a training regime to keep them fit enough to do so.
Or people could just stop surprising me.
“So that’s why she’s taken a shine to you,” I teased.
He scoffed. “Please. Athena’s doted on me my entire life — like an adoring aunt.”
Now, it was my turn to scoff. “I don’t think Athena has ever doted on anyone.”
Caelus might have been unable to see in the dark, but I was born from it. So, when he smiled like he knew something I didn’t, I saw — and jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow for keeping secrets.
“Ouch!” he laughed. “While that may have been true for millennia, it’s certainly not the case any longer. She’s besotted. Nike has wrapped her feathers all the way around Athena’s heart — and she’s all the better for it,” he said with a smile.
And though he couldn’t see it, I smiled back.
“Good. She deserves happiness.”
And then that lance of dread skewered my heart once more, shattering the peace of the moment.
I just hope they both get to keep it on the other side of this war.
Caelus’ fingers squeezed around my own and I knew he’d heard me, though I hadn’t consciously sent the thought his way.
“We’re going to make it through this, Nightshade.”
“You should know better than to make promises you can’t keep, Golden.”
The clatter of steel against steel disrupted the moment, echoing up the stairwell, quickly followed by a brazen shout.
“Shut your mouth, you spineless urchin!” a woman yelled. Then, in a tone almost opposite to her insult. “What if she doesn’t like me?”
Aros’ drawling tones replied, “Then she’s a very wise queen indeed.”
Poseidon cackled — malicious and thoroughly entertained — from what I was sure was a front row seat to the squabbling siblings. Caelus and I picked up our pace, hastening down the long hallway and a final flight of stairs to emerge into a deceptively large room.
Light drenched the worn stone, and as our eyes adjusted, we froze at the scene before us.
A familiar-looking female — who could only be Evadne — held Aros hostage by his half-bound hair, folded over backwards, with a sword held to his throat. Aros had a delighted grin upon his face despite the lingering threat of the blade, while Poseidon watched gleefully as it all unfolded.
Evadne’s amber eyes, identical to her twin’s, widened in apparent horror. She immediately jerked backwards, releasing her captive and sheathing her blade in one swift motion. She sketched a graceful bow and straightened, shooting a vicious glare at her brother, who laughed mirthfully in response.
“My Queen,” he said with a wicked glint in those flickering eyes. “May I introduce my sister, Evadne?”
“Please — call me Evie, your grace,” she said smoothly, her voice just as whiskey-smooth as her twin’s.
“More like evil,” Poseidon muttered, scowling at me through the bars containing him.
Before I could respond to either, the shoulder of Poseidon’s chiton caught fire.
He startled, shouting in wordless surprise, and desperately attempted to brush the flames out — but it was to no avail.
The flames vanished only when they’d burned clean through the fabric, causing his outfit to drape open, askew, one tiny, hairy nipple on full display.
I grinned at Aros, who was thoroughly amused, yes — but did not bear the telltale smirk I’d expected to see on his sunkissed features. He shook his head and nodded at his sister — who bore the smug grin instead.
Another fire-wielder.
“I like you already,” I told her.
Aros groaned, Caelus huffed a laugh, and Poseidon’s glare deepened.
“Wonderful,” he spat. “Next you’ll be dragging out the finery to have yourselves a little tea party I’ll have no choice but to be subjected to.”
My gaze cut sharply to his — if looks could kill, he’d have been hacked into tiny, briny pieces and declared a fishkebab by now. A ribbon of shadow lashed out from my extended middle finger, wrapped around his head, and muzzled him.
“That’s better,” I declared.
“My hero.” Evie smiled. “I’ve only been here for twenty minutes and was already prepared to slice my own ears off.”
Poseidon mumbled something unintelligible, both cuffed hands clawing at his face. My shadows did not budge — nor would they until I recalled them.
“Mind your manners, Poseidon, or I’ll have no choice but to leave you like that indefinitely.”
He glared, venom pouring out of every acid-filled glower, but the sea god eventually dropped into his cot. Dust whooshed out, enveloping the air in its stale scent.
“Come take a walk with me, Evie. I’m sure you have many stories to tell that I’d greatly love to hear.”
Aros groaned again. “This doesn’t bode well for me.”
Caelus clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “No. It doesn’t.” His amused gaze met mine, eyes softening around the edges as the tether between us hummed warmly.
I love you too, Golden.
His grin softened and as I turned, I could have sworn his eyes shone with something more than the flickering torch light.
Evie and I ascended the stairwell and meandered up the hallway at a leisurely — albeit awkward — pace.
I sat on the third step of the spiral stairs and patted the stone beside me.
She hesitated for half a second before joining me, then dropped silently with the grace of a warrior; of someone who had honed her body for decades.
“Tell me everything,” I said, overwhelmingly curious about this secret twin.
“How does a daughter of Ares go unnoticed for so long? Years? Centuries?” My brow wrinkled.
“I confess, I have no idea how old you both actually are,” I sheepishly admitted, a copper blush rising to the surface of my warm cheeks.
“Ah. That,” she began, “is a very long and boring story, my queen.”
“I have the time. And please, call me Nyssa. I have a feeling we’re going to be seeing quite a lot of each other in the days to come.” I smiled, pushing through the sudden ache of missing him; fearful of replacing him; wary of getting close to another I may also lose.
Evie smiled back. “Ares did not want it known that both his twins survived. He knew that our story would end in one of two ways, and in the case of it ending well, feared we would usurp him.”
I huffed a breath. “That sounds about right.”
“But nor could he bring himself to kill one of us. Say what you want about our father, but he is an extremely superstitious being. He feared that if he struck one of us down, thus commandeering our destiny, Fate would strike him down in turn. And so… he chose to keep Aros — his boy, his precious, perfect son,” she spat. “And sent me away instead.”
“Where did you go?”
“Thalassia. Old fishrot’s domain.” She nodded down the hall to someone well out of earshot, stuck behind bars strong enough to hold gods and monsters alike.
“One of my mother’s maids took me in, before—” Evie cut herself short, her gaze dropping to her lap.
I knew the pain that lingered there; the same guilt that ate away at her brother.
“Before your mother left,” I finished for her.
She nodded, taking a moment to steel herself. When her head lifted again, there was no trace of turmoil in her amber eyes — just the determination to see her tale through.
“Desma raised me in my mother’s stead. She was kind.
Patient. And I gave her hell for it,” she laughed.
“I danced on every boundary, flaunted every disastrous conquest, and tested her every single day.” Evie’s smile fell.
“She passed last year. Forest nymphs never make it past a thousand, and Desma was on the older side when I fell into her wrinkled lap.”
My brows pinched together. “That must make you hundreds of years old,” I said, eyes widening as the words tumbled out.
She giggled. “Don’t you know it’s rude to question a woman’s age?”
Tartarus.
“Forgive me,” I murmured, mortified.
“It’s quite alright,” she laughed. “Sometimes I forget just how new to the world you and Caelus both are. You’ve already accomplished so much in your… what… thirty years?”
“Almost thirty-one,” I grimaced.
“Yes!” She clapped her hands together. “When is it? We must celebrate.”
A laugh slipped free. “Aphrodite would adore you. It’s a little over a month away, but I fear we have more pressing things to worry about.”
She frowned. “I fear you may be right. In any case, Aros and I just began our sixth century.”
“You’re five hundred?!” I exclaimed.
“Five hundred and three, to be exact,” she laughed.
“The things you must have done — must have seen!”
At this, Evie’s face darkened. “Aros, perhaps… but I was cursed to remain within Thalassia’s borders. That curse ended with Desma’s death. And here I am.”
“Here you are… stuck in a dank prison with Lord Dickstick,” I supplied unhelpfully.
Her brows twitched, then raucous laughter bounced around the hallway so loudly, I was sure the others could hear it. Nevertheless, the sound was contagious; so sharp and sure I could not help but join her.
Minutes passed. And just when our fits eased, they renewed again when Caelus and Aros waltzed up the stairwell to investigate, wearing identically perplexed expressions.
“Aros,” I said between giggles. “Find… another… guard.”
He sighed. “What’s she done now?”
“Me?!” Evie barked. “I haven’t done anything!”
“You’ve just been discharged twenty-something minutes after I gave you this position,” he argued.
“No, she’s right,” I cut in. “Evie’s done nothing wrong, I simply wanted to save her the pain of guarding Poseidon. Find someone else.”
“Someone smelly,” Evie agreed.
“Someone ugly,” Caelus joined in, grinning ruefully at Aros’ exasperation.
He lifted his face to the ceiling, sighing deeply. “Fine. I’ll assign Phobos and Deimos to guard him.”
Evie paled at that. Caelus shuddered.
“They’ll likely give him nightmares — they’re completely psychotic,” he continued. “But they won’t let him escape.”
“Nightmares, he can handle,” I replied, my lip tugging up at the corner.
Devious creature, Caelus purred into my mind, reigniting my desire without so much as a touch, without even a look. His voice alone was enough.
The hallway filled with the scent of raspberries and Aros groaned. “Nyss, please. Control your wayward thoughts, because I’m dying over here.” He gestured to his tented breeches.
“Gross!” Evie gagged.
He scowled. “Anyone fancy a trip to the Prancing Satyr?” he asked, his tone lifting hopefully at the end.
“Sorry, my terminal friend. You’ll have to put off dying for a little longer, because we need to get back to the Parthenon.” I locked eyes with Caelus. “We’re not quite done with admissions.”
“Can I come?” Evie asked, practically bouncing on her toes.
“No,” Aros grunted, just as I assented.
“Sorry, brother! The queen’s word trumps yours,” she said, her voice filled with a saccharine glee.
Aros turned to me, incredulity warping his pretty face. “The only way she can do that is if she gets promoted to council,” — I winced — “or Queen’s Guard.”
One dark brow lifted. “Done.”
“Done? What do you mean done?” He frowned as Caelus let his amusement slip free.
“It means, darling, that I’ve just appointed the first member of my guard.” I smiled, now addressing Evie directly, who had turned a sickly shade of white.
Her eyes wide, she straightened in military precision, her face falling into solemnity.
“Evadne. Do you swear upon the River Styx to be my loyal guardian, to raise your sword alongside mine, and to be my shield when I falter? Do you swear to hold my secrets more fiercely than your own, and let them burn on your tongue before you betray them? Do you swear to serve me until the Fates sever your thread, or until such a day comes that I release you from your oath?”
Her chin lifted and her eyes met mine, no trace of amusement or falsity lingering within them. “I swear it.”
I grinned. “Good. Then we may go.”
Patience was never a virtue I valued or employed. Shadows leaked from my palms and formed a solid black doorway before us. One by one, we passed through it, reappearing in the middle of the now-crowded Parthenon chamber.
Ready? My storm-wielder asked, reaching for my sweating hand.
No, I answered honestly. Not at all.