34. Nyssa
Nyssa
In the space of a blink, we’d shifted from the bloodied, frenzied arena to a familiar starlit sky.
Being cradled in Caelus’ arms gave me the perfect opportunity to ogle the constellations overhead — there was the Ouroboros eating its own tail, the Sleeping Titan using his arm as a pillow, and Fate’s symbol, the Hourglass, counting down all of our remaining days.
Never a moon, though. Even she did not dare venture to the Underworld.
Caelus pulled me a little closer as he carried me up the stairs and through the palace doors, careful not to squeeze my aching ribs. I lamented that this reprieve would end. That he would set me down, disappear, and we’d be back to pretending we were only using each other to get ahead in the Rite.
So, I allowed myself to indulge in the few stolen moments of intimacy — something I’d never experienced, nor let myself long for. I nuzzled into his warm, muscular chest, feeling his heartbeat speed up beneath my cheek, almost in time with my own.
“I’ll start the fires,” Charon murmured. His face betrayed his concern: eyebrows drawn together, trademark dimple absent. He glanced at my trembling hands, then eyed Caelus severely, “Take her upstairs to the shower. She needs to get warm?—”
Charon moved to grab Caelus’ arm, halting his steps. “ —slowly . No point adding scalded skin and a fever to her list of damage.”
“I know,” Caelus murmured, staring down at me. Emotions flashed across his face too quickly for me to read. “I know how to care for her. I know what she needs.”
Char scoffed, patting Caelus’ back as he strode off. “Okay, big guy.”
Stay here. I’ll be okay , I sent to Velira, praying she’d listen, before gently closing off the mental link between us.
I just needed a few moments of solitude, to be the sole occupant of my own mind.
The storm-wielder insisted on carrying me the entire way to the bathroom, grunting that he only needed directions, not snarky comments about how I could walk and my legs weren’t painted on.
He did not set me down until the shower was running warm, and even then, only onto the bench seat Charon had added during the remodel.
Every time I set foot in here, I swore I could kiss Hephaestus for the invention of showers.
But then I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the oval mirror and my bruised lips parted in shock.
Ichor covered me from head to toe — I couldn’t tell where mine ended and Leander’s began. Bruises marred almost every inch of visible skin. Cuts and slashes decorated my body like tally marks, carved by survival itself.
I was a macabre mural, painted in broad, violent strokes.
Broken, emerald-green eyes stared back at me.
Tears from the girl in the mirror mixed with the still-wet blood, sliding down her face like golden, swirling ink.
A sob choked free, pulling painfully on my cracked and bloodied ribs.
My hands shot to my sides, desperately trying to hold myself together physically while mentally falling apart.
A gentle hand tipped my jaw upwards, coaxing me away from the sad reflection until I met the revolving silvery gaze of the god crouching beside me. His face was inches from mine — steely resolve written into every line on his skin.
“Don’t,” Caelus grunted. “Don’t you dare feel a shred of guilt for what you had to do to come back to us alive.”
My face fell, but the tears fell harder.
“To come back to me alive. And I can never thank you enough for that.”
I blinked up at him, surprised by the vehemence in his voice.
“So don’t you dare torture yourself, Nightshade.” His eyes softened, voice quiet but steady. “I know that no matter what I say, you will always carry this weight as a stain on your soul, but you shouldn’t. You don’t deserve to.”
He waited for his words to settle.
“Leander would have killed you, Nyssa.” His voice cracked on my name. It sounded foreign on his tongue. Somewhere along the way, I’d grown attached to his flowery nickname — the absence of it was jarring.
“He tried—” Caelus seethed, “and I?—”
His fingers plunged roughly through his hair, snagging on the knots.
“I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. I just stood there, stuck on the sidelines like some useless onlooker!
” He slammed his fist into the tiled floor, splitting the skin at his knuckles.
“That dagger he carried? I’ve seen it before.
My father had one… A remnant from the Titan War.
It would have killed you if he’d been able to land a fatal blow. ”
He looked up at me, lips pressed together in a firm line, eyes shuttered. The light behind them dimmed — and that, more than my grief, broke something within me.
Tentatively, I reached forward, placing my palms on his cheeks. Slowly, I leaned in until our foreheads touched. My eyes dropped to his trembling lips.
Furies, I so badly wanted to kiss him — wanted to taste him; see if his lips were as sweet as the caramel scent that seemed to follow him like a shadow.
But I couldn’t.
I reared back, reaching for his bleeding hand, pressing a soft kiss to the broken skin instead.
“Now you listen to me, taser-boy.”
He barked an unexpected laugh.
“I am no damsel in need of saving. I have more power in my little finger than Leander had in his entire body. I will never regret taking the life of anyone who wanted me — or the ones I care about — dead. Even if it costs a piece of my soul in the process,” I whispered, eyes closing.
Caelus didn’t say another word. He just grabbed each of my feet and unlaced my boots one by one.
Then he unbuckled my pauldrons and my scabbard, uncaring that the downfall of water was soaking him, too.
He retreated to the basin, rummaging through the cupboards beneath until he found what he was looking for.
He returned with a wet washcloth and my favourite bar of soap. He moved around wordlessly as I sat there staring dumbly at the towering giant in my bathroom. With a small smile, he traced small, gentle circles over my face, methodically washing away every last drop of blood.
“There she is,” he said softly, his smile widening a fraction. He gestured for me to turn my head into the stream. The steady warmth of the downpour soothed the turmoil in my mind, but it was his hands — those large, scarred hands — that were most effective at bringing me some semblance of peace.
The scent of vanilla and raspberries permeated the air as Caelus’ fingers pressed into my scalp, lathering soap through my matted tresses. Warily, I leaned into his touch — it felt too good to resist.
It was a simple enough pleasure, but an act of kindness I hadn’t expected.
And when I moaned softly, Caelus cleared his throat, straightening sharply, heat staining his cheeks.
“I’ll be out in the hall if you need help with anything else,” he grunted.
But before he could leave, I leaped to my feet, capturing his hand in my own, hissing at the sharp tug on my ribs. I stared up into his torrential eyes and whispered two of the most vulnerable words I’d ever uttered.
“Don’t go.”
He groaned as if in pain. “Nightshade…”
“Please.”
“I can’t be just a balm for you,” he said, face falling.
“The Furies know how badly I want to stay with you, but… I want to be more than temporary.” He cupped my cheek softly.
“I need to be more than that. And if I don’t leave now, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to control myself if you keep looking at me like that. ”
“Maybe… maybe I don’t want you to,” I admitted, heart racing, already regretting the brazenness of the words and the way I’d just hurled them at him without warning.
“Nyssa,” Caelus whispered, his breath catching in his throat and sending a shiver down my spine. He brushed a wet lock behind my ear, otherworldly eyes searching my face for something — hesitance, maybe.
Or perhaps he was waiting for me to take it back. Giving me one last chance to pull away.
But I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t.
He was engraved on my very soul, and I couldn’t claw him out even if I wanted to.
And I didn’t want to.
A heartbeat passed. Then two. And he just stood there, staring.
My chin dropped, eyes falling to the floor.
Oh, Tartarus. I am such a fucking idiot. What kind of fool was I to think that he ? —
“Fuck it,” he breathed, lunging forward.
His lips crashed against mine with a force that stole what little breath remained in my broken lungs. His fingers twined through my damp hair, pulling me closer. His thumbs gently traced over my cheeks as he kissed me.
And Furies , did he kiss me.
It was a kiss that devoured. A kiss that could shatter realms.
A kiss worth waging war over… worth dying for.
Caelus might have robbed me of air, but he injected me with something far more valuable — life.
If he was a drug, then consider me an addict. I never wanted this moment to end. I wanted more. I wanted it all. Everything he could give, and everything I could give back.
It was not a gentle kiss — but it was everything we’d both been trying, and failing, to ignore for months. My hands found their way to his chest, where his heart beat just as furiously as mine.
His tongue nudged my lips apart, and I yielded to him.
The taste of him was intoxicating — wild and urgent — as if he needed my lips as much as his next breath.
He groaned, and my core throbbed in response, tension aching for release.
I felt the storm within his skin building, and I tasted the metallic thrum of lightning sparking just beneath the surface.
I pulled back just enough to see the dangerous intensity in his eyes — and couldn’t stop myself from diving back in, stealing every kiss he was willing to give. I pressed my body into his — hard and desperate — and the remaining shred of control he held over himself snapped.