Chapter 16 Nyx #2
I brace myself for the anger that will follow, but Reyes only speaks softer.
Even in his frustration, he is gentle. “How about you let me decide what I deserve? Why do you get to make that decision for us both?” My gaze flutters up to his.
The same exhaustion that seeps from his voice stares back at me with tired eyes.
I am already taking from him.
Fresh tears slip free as I tentatively reach for his hand, hooking his pinkie with mine as I pull in a shuttering inhale. “What if this is all I have to offer? What if this is as good as it gets?”
“What if it’s enough?”
Another crippling wave of emotion hits me, and I close my eyes as the back of my head thunks against the wall. “I wanted to tell you. At the rocks.”
“Tell me what?”
“Why I did not want you to leave. How I wanted to be enough like you said I was.”
“You are enough,” he whispers, and he covers my hand with his. Static crackles along my fingers and up my arm, but it doesn’t hurt.
It makes me feel alive.
It makes me feel the scariest thing of all.
Hope.
“You said there was us,” I force myself to say. “At the rocks. In the before.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers flexing against mine.
“You said your life was in three worlds, and that nothing else was real until you were here with me. Maybe that’s true for both of us.
My life starts now, too, you know. What I was doing before?
That wasn’t living. That was barely surviving.
Then I saw you, and I was alive again. I didn’t need a mark on my hand to know my place is beside you, Nyx. ”
My heart swells, gorging itself on his words and keeping them safe. “You say this, but you don’t know me.”
“I have always known you,” he says, and that lightness that’s woven between my broken pieces flares, recognizing the truth in those words. “Stop trying to talk me out of this. You say I don’t know you, so let me know you. You don’t have to be alone. Not anymore.”
“I will try,” I whisper. “For you, I will try.”
He holds my hand until my breathing steadies, and after a long stretch of silence, he asks, “Can I ask you a question? About your past?” I nod, forcing myself to take another bite of my muffin as his thumb swipes over my knuckles.
His light finding mine.
“You had a mate?”
“Yes. I did, but it was…” I trail off, relishing the peculiar sensation of his hand on mine. Of a touch that isn’t harmful—one that isn’t hurtful or controlling. “It was not like this.”
“I didn’t know you could have… another.”
“Me neither,” I respond, letting my hand flex against his.
“Will you tell me about them?”
I nod as I rest my head against the wall, staring at the vines on my windows and the blue sky beyond them.
“Some of it is fuzzy, but I will share what I remember. It was… a long time ago. Seventy, eighty years, maybe more. The guards changed often while the humans had me. They did not need many. I was the only one.” Reyes glances at me in question.
“The only prisoner. They had human servants to do their bidding, but they were not like me. They were not in a cage. Eventually they built me a cell, and new guards came to escort me. They were dressed in their fancy uniforms. Others were there. Important ones, watching me like it was an honor. It was a show… an act. They pretended I was the danger. Four of them moved me, surrounding me like a beast. I was so weak. So scared. I would have gone without a fight. There was no fight left.”
Reyes makes a quiet, pained sound in the back of his throat, and I squeeze his hand. “Do you want me to stop?”
“As long as you’re okay telling me, I’d like to hear.”
I nod and take another long swig of water. “Laurent was the guard who grabbed me. He led me by my arm to my cell, and I felt it. The energy. The mark came up later that day.”
“Was he… kind?” Reyes asks quietly, and I shake my head.
“He was excited for this mark, but not for the reasons you think. I did not have to speak their language to understand. No one knew what it was. Not even me. I had never heard this prophecy. Mates. The word meant nothing. But I hated that mark. I hated how it drew me to him. Laurent was… what is the word? He wanted power. To be important.”
“Ambitious?”
“Yes. He thought the mark made him special. Before, I was a pretty pet for the leaders to show off to their powerful friends. After? I was an offering. They studied me.”
“Laurent didn’t help you?”
My throat tightens again as I shake my head and take a sip of water to soothe it. “He was the one who held me down,” I whisper, and Reyes’s fingers flex as another of those quiet whines leaves his throat.
“What happened to him?”
“He offered his body for their research. Offered mine, too, though it was not his to give. But he gave it, and they took it, regardless. Used it. Used me. Eventually, he died.” Unwilling to pull my hand from his, I set my glass on the table and trace over the scars above my elbow.
“It should not have hurt. I hated him, but when they killed him, it felt like they carved out a piece of my soul.”
“They killed him?” he asks cautiously, his voice thick.
“I never learned whether it was on purpose or an accident. The thought used to terrify me.”
“That they might kill you, too?”
“That they never would,” I admit in a whisper. “I was not scared they would kill me. I was afraid it would never end. That they would stretch out my years. Keep me alive to serve their curiosity. So many times, I longed for the quiet of death. Begged for it.”
“Nyx,” he whispers, and I offer him a faint tilt of my lips. It’s not a smile, but I try to make it a comfort. This story is one I’ve never shared with anyone, and now that I’m telling it, I want to finish before I lose my nerve.
“The day Ronan and Cameron opened my cage… they told me they would wait outside. I did not know them. Strangers. They could have been a new kind of evil. Could have hurt me, and I was so tired of hurting. There was a… a knife on the table. A guard left it there, and I considered it then… taking my life. Claiming the quiet I had always been denied.” His hand tightens against mine, and he’s shaky as he takes a deep breath.
“I did not want them to have me again… they could not have me again. I would not allow it.”
“Nyx,” he rasps, and gods, there’s so much pain in his voice.
“Should I stop?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“No,” he breathes, and I nod, gathering my courage.
“I… I held it. It was in my hands, and I was so steady. So steady. So ready for the quiet.”
“What stopped you?”
I swallow hard as I catch my breath, allowing myself to soak in the comfort of his hand on mine.
“There was a hole in the roof of my tent. Just a small one. The sunlight seemed a fitting place to do it. A life in the darkness could end in the light. It felt… right. I had never been given a choice, but I could choose this. I could decide how I left this life.”
My eyes close as I think back to that day, and the way the sun warmed my face.
“I… I knelt under that sunlight. I knew my story would never be told. Any memories of me would die in that tent. I had accepted that. I pressed the blade to my wrist, and I saw it. A flower in the corner. Growing where it should not have grown, in the dark and alone.”
“What flower?” he asks.
My fingers squeeze his as I open my eyes and meet his gaze. “A katsurrel. Even back then, I believe you came for me when I needed you.”
“Nyx,” he whispers for the third time. My name is a heartbreakingly soft plea, and I blink away my tears.
“It’s alright,” I whisper back.
“It isn’t.” He swipes his hand over his eyes. They’re red-rimmed and exhausted, and my guilt doubles when I see how much I’m weighing him down with my past. “None of it is alright. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“Perhaps,” I agree, closing my eyes again because the sight of him so sad hurts worse than any physical torture I’ve experienced. “But it is the life I was granted. One without choice.”
“You have a choice now. You always have a say in what happens to you.” He hesitates, then turns our hands until he fits his fingers in between mine, stitching us together. “And I’d very much like to be your choice, Nyx.”
“I don’t know how to do this,” I whisper.
“Me neither, but we’ll figure it out together.”
“I might… hurt you. It will never be on purpose, but my mind… sometimes I cannot find my way through the fog.”
“You never have to apologize for that,” Reyes says as he takes a deep breath. “Don’t you think we both deserve a chance to be happy? Too much of my life has been spent being afraid. I’m not afraid of this.”
I sit for a long time, not bothering to tell him I am afraid of it. He already knows, and rehashing that truth won’t change anything. “What if you don’t like who I become?” I finally ask.
He’s quiet for a moment longer, but I appreciate his silence.
It means he’s considering the question instead of saying what he thinks I want to hear.
Eventually he says, “You’ve never been given a chance to find yourself.
Anything you decide to do, anyone you become…
I’ll be right here. No matter what, you’ll always be perfect in my eyes. ”
“Don’t leave me again,” I whisper, and realize I’m already demanding more of him.
Exhaustion hits full force after the emotional blow of my story, and I can’t help the tremble of my lip.
The mattress shifts as he stands from the bed.
My eyes fly open as I squeeze his hand tighter, as if I could ever hold him there.
“I’m not leaving,” he swears, his voice gentle in the way he only is with me. Reyes is rough and combative with the others, quick to argue, but with me, there’s only sweetness. Soft hands guide my head to the pillow, and as much as I try to fight it, my mind goes fuzzy as my eyes drift shut.
“Lie down, sweetheart. You need to sleep, and I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
“Please stay,” I breathe, my body already twitching in the early throes of slumber.
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He pulls the blanket over my shoulders, still holding my hand. Reyes doesn’t give empty promises, never says what he doesn’t mean, so I cling to those words. Warm and comforted, I allow myself to rest.