Chapter 21 Nyx
Nyx
Tools bang and voices shout back and forth as I leave the woods.
It’s early for work to have already begun, though as I note how high the sun is in the sky, I realize I lost a few hours with Elas.
He visits less frequently now and says his mind is clearing as the days pass.
Sleep comes easier for him, and every time we talk, he seems a little lighter.
Seeing his peace makes me feel like I am finally doing something meaningful.
Even if I’m only listening and sharing my experiences, I’m making a difference.
Elas is a warrior. Enormous and strong and fearless… or so I thought, until I realized he is afraid, too.
They were able to break such a powerful soldier—give him nightmares and flashbacks, and enough anguish to pull him from his bed at night. Our stories aren’t the same, but he understands what I went through. He shares this part of my history, and it makes me feel less alone.
Lillith and Taryn were also captives of that place, but they seem unaffected. Perhaps they seek their comfort in each other in the quiet hours when they’re together, or maybe, unlike us, they left their demons in the rubble.
My fingers absentmindedly dig into Boomerang's fur as she walks beside me, and as we reach the end of the dirt path, I find Reyes sitting on top of the greenhouse.
He straddles the peak as Lillith passes him another pane of glass.
A smile tugs at my lips as he drops it inside its wooden frame, then gives it a satisfied nod.
He’s eager to get fresh seeds planted in their new home.
Even though they’ve only been working on it for a few days, he’s anxious.
We have plenty of food stores, and the outdoor garden is still producing, but Reyes views feeding the village as his responsibility.
He glances over his shoulder like he senses me, and tosses his hand up in a wave as a bright smile spreads over his face.
I wave back, and head into the garden so I don’t interrupt his work.
Every morning, Reyes has a new flower to tuck behind my ear, and when I take it out, I add it to my collection.
Seven flowers, so far. One week of this lightness that never seems to go away.
We eat breakfast before our days start, and while he works on the greenhouse, I’ve taken over tending the plants.
It allows me to be productive without being overwhelmed by the others.
With a basket looped over my arm, I head between the rows of corn, while Boomerang paws at the ground.
She spins in a circle, changing direction a few times as she fluffs the soil, but eventually settles with a lazy snort.
I grin at her balled-up form before turning back to my task.
Green pea pods use the stems—their stalks, according to Reyes—to climb and search for more sunshine.
The humidity makes the heat stifling, but it’s more bearable in the shade.
I snack as I harvest, enjoying the crunch of the sweet peas.
Footsteps approach, and I recognize their cautious movement. “I missed you this morning,” Reyes says in a low voice, and I spin towards him with an excited grin. His eyes dance across my face. “Gods, you’re gorgeous when you smile.”
My nerves take flight like they do whenever he’s around, fluttering and flapping inside my chest. “I’m sorry I was not at breakfast.”
“It’s alright. You don’t always have to eat with me.”
“I want to,” I rush to say. “I just had… things to do.”
An understanding takes over his face as he nods. “Rough night?”
“They are getting better.” I’d never betray Elas’s trust by sharing what we discuss, but he told Reyes about our late-night talks weeks ago, and assured me he doesn’t expect me to keep anything from him.
“Good. He deserves to wash that place from his mind… you both do.”
“We will. Replace the bad memories with better ones.”
Reyes takes another step nearer, but I don’t back up as he lifts his hand.
I take it in both of mine to inspect the mark that swirls on his fingertips.
We’ve been dancing around being mates, spending time together as we learn more about each other.
Touching others has always been hard for me, but with him, it’s easy.
I crave it, always wanting more.
We keep getting closer and closer, always closer, but he never pushes me. If anything, he withdraws when I want to be pushed, and the frustration is the most decadent thing I’ve ever experienced. Rich and slow-moving like honey low in my belly, with the most insistent pounding through my limbs.
“I saved your flower,” he whispers, and his other hand moves from behind his back with a Daisy pinched between his fingers. He tucks it behind my ear, pausing as he drags his fingertip along the sensitive skin.
White-hot, blinding heat replaces the usual warmth.
It’s demanding and thick, and I must make a sound because Reyes’s face twists into a different sort of pain.
“Gods, you’re killing me, beautiful,” he murmurs.
“Absolutely killing me.” He traces my ear again, and that delicious heat spreads up my spine.
My breath quickens, and my eyes lock on his mouth.
I blindly reach for his shirt, fisting the material between my fingers as I push out a shaky exhale.
He steps even closer as my lips part, and everything aches.
The sensation is foreign, and I lean into it as I tug him closer.
He obliges me as I pull on his shirt, and my eyes flick up to his before landing on his mouth again.
The others show their affection openly, with their touches and kisses, and I want to be able to do the same.
I want to give that to him. “I… I…” A frustrated grunt leaves my throat, unable to articulate what I’m feeling.
It’s so powerful it makes me dizzy, and touching him is the only thing I can think about as my other hand grips his forearm.
“What do you want?” He bands his arm around my middle to pull me closer. Every contact point flares to life and sings, my skin tingling and my body tight in the very best way.
“I just… want,” I breathe, and he groans again as he leans in and brushes his lips over my temple.
He kisses me there, a real one, then moves his mouth along my hairline until he’s at my ear. “Whatever you want, you can have,” he murmurs, then kisses me there, too. “You know that, don’t you? I’ll give you anything. Everything.”
Voices chatter nearby, and he hesitantly pulls back to meet my eyes. That pressure is even tighter now, swirling and building until I think I might explode with it. “I want,” I say again, and he pushes my hair from my face and closes his eyes as he sucks in a heavy breath.
“Dear gods, I won’t survive this,” he groans, then plants another kiss on my temple. “How about we spend the afternoon together after we’re finished working?”
“That is far away,” I whine, and he laughs with a grin.
“I’ll work fast, okay? Once I get this greenhouse done, no one will need me for the rest of the day.” He tries to step back, but I yank at him again, and he gives in and leans his body into mine.
“Nyx?”
My eyes drift up to his, so very close. “It’s better when you’re here. I want,” I whisper, and his expression turns pained once more.
“I know you do, sirrha. You trust me to take care of you, don’t you?” I nod, and he presses a kiss onto my cheek as I draw in a sharp breath. “We’re not doing this here in the middle of the garden, as much as we both want to.”
“You want, too?” I ask, breathless, and he huffs a laugh.
“Yes, Nyx. I always want you. Let me do it the right way.”
“Okay,” I relent, and he steps back slowly, like it’s just as hard for him to separate himself from me as it is for me to let him go.
“I’ll find you when I’m done working.”
“Please?”
His eyes roll up to the sky, and he puffs out a long breath. “Will not survive this,” he mutters again, but his expression is sweet and so patient when he meets my eyes. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper as I watch him walk away with a final glance over his shoulder.
Hours seem to pass like days as I force myself to work.
The uncomfortable fire in my belly fades to a dull ember as I busy myself with the plants.
By the time I’m finished, three baskets are full of peas, and a fourth is loaded with squash and zucchini.
Their production has slowed, and I wonder if that means the colder months are coming.
As if to mock my thought, a scorching breeze blows over my face, carrying a cloud of dust that sticks to the sweat on my forehead.
“Do you need help with those?” Reyes asks from behind me, and once again, I’m grinning like an idiot when I turn toward him.
“Are you finished?” I ask as I lift two of the baskets.
He grabs the other two and nods as we walk towards the storage building to drop the food inside.
As our official canner, Cameron checks it once a day, and usually suckers August and Ronan to help.
I think it’s nostalgic for him to pull out the glass jars.
His mother lived in this village, and he tells stories of her humming while she canned in their kitchen.
We leave the vegetables, and Reyes bites at his lip as he glances at me from the corner of his eye. “About earlier…”
“Yes?” I prompt when he doesn’t continue.
“I never want to pressure you, Nyx.”
“Pressure?” My brows meet, attempting to connect the word to what he’s saying, and he chuckles as he faces me.
“I don’t want you to do something you’re unsure about because you think it’s what I want.”
“Unsure? You think I am not sure?” I demand, and he hesitates.
“I’m not trying to tell you what you’re feeling, but you’ve gone a long time without certain… urges?” His cheeks flame again, and my jaw sets as my teeth clamp together.
“Do not treat me like a child.” His eyes flare at the anger he can undoubtedly hear in my tone. “If you do not want… me, that is different, but don’t tell me what I want.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” he says as he rushes closer. “Of course I want you. Gods, I’ve wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, don’t you know that? Can’t you see how desperate I am to have you in any way possible?”
My arms fold over my chest as I try to turn away, but he grabs my shoulder and stops me.
“Don’t. Don’t shut me out, okay? Please?
” He takes my marked hand and lifts it to his mouth, pressing kisses along the glow of my knuckles.
The rising tide of my anger crashes as if it fell against a cliffside, disappearing as I focus on the drag of his lips.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my eyes flitting up to his.
“You don’t have to be sorry, you just have to let me in.” His fingertips move to my chest, dancing above my pounding heart. “Let me in here.”
“You are all that lives there.” My voice is only a whisper, and his fingers flex against my skin. “It is already yours.”
He whimpers my name as he pulls me against him, his heart thudding against my ear. Sweat makes his shirt stick to his body, and his natural smell is heightened, but it’s intoxicating. Greedy for more, I push my nose into his chest and breathe him in as his hands dance along my spine.
“Why don’t we cool off?” His mouth is deliciously close to my ear, and I shiver from the proximity. “Go for a swim?”
“Yes,” I whisper, and he pulls back with a smile. It’s the soft, secret one he saves for me, and I drink it in as he takes my hand and weaves our fingers together. We walk along the outskirts of camp, and soon we’re under the forest canopy with the tinkling rush of water growing louder.
The deepest part of the stream forms a round pool, surrounded by trees and rocks, and always gives me peace.
He chews on his lip as he releases my hand.
“I’ll leave my shorts on,” he says, and I nod my agreement.
Not long ago, nakedness was of no concern to me, but ever since we’ve grown closer, I’m hyper-aware of my body and its reaction to him.
I can’t pull my eyes away as he tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it aside.
Dark, coarse curls cover his torso, growing denser beneath his navel.
His arms and chest are thick and strong, and there is a deliciously soft layer over his stomach.
There’s a noticeable line between his dark coppery skin and the lighter tan where his clothes shield him from the sun.
I drink him in, allowing my eyes to roam.
He runs a hand through his hair, like he does when his nerves are getting the best of him.
“Not as impressive as some of the others,” he murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest like he’s trying to hide from me.
He’s taken my silence for something other than the quiet reverence it is, and I step closer to remedy that mistake.
My fingers wrap around his wrist, and I unfold his arms before pulling his hand to the hem of my shirt. “You are perfect.” I mirror the words he’s spoken to me so many times as I release him and nod, and he fists the fabric with a soft groan.
“You really are going to kill me one of these days,” he mutters.
My heart pounds inside my ribcage. It used to be nothing but a black void, but it’s now filled with light and sounds and color and laughter.
He inches my shirt higher, seeking permission, and I nod as he pulls it over my head.
My instinct is the same as his—cover myself and hide from his inspection.
Camouflage these prominent ribs and concave belly, and pretend for a moment that the world never broke me.
That I’m just Nyx, and he’s just Reyes, and in another life, we could’ve met when I was whole.
When I had more than… this to offer him.
This broken soul and too-thin body, and the remnants of a heart that beats only for him.
Pieces of the puzzle that will never fit together the way they should, warped and twisted until they’re unrecognizable fragments of the person I was meant to be.
But his eyes don’t hold pity, or disgust, or any of the terrible things my mind tells me they should.
They peruse my body like it’s something special—something to be cherished—and gods, how I want to know how that feels.
His eyes land on mine, and if my heart knocked against my sternum any harder, it would leap right out of my chest.
“Come on,” he says softly, and takes a step backwards into the water, holding his hand out for me. I take it, wrap my fingers around his, and together, we jump.