19. Thalia’s POV
Chapter 19
Thalia’s POV
Z arek left me alone as I got myself together, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I had been out for days—and the confusing, unfamiliar feelings I was developing for not only Zarek, but Nox as well. It was unsettling, this pull towards them. Was I just that desperate for some kind of belonging?
I’d heard stories about the Gifted—how having multiple partners was said to be a natural extension of their power. But in Nyvorthia, it was seen as nothing short of shameful, even repulsive, a blatant sign of moral decay. They're so quick to judge, so eager to condemn. They spoke of it with open disdain, their noses wrinkled in disgust. They whispered about the Gifted, painting them as immoral and depraved, yet envied them. They feared what they didn’t understand, what they couldn’t control.
And now, here I was, struggling with emotions I couldn’t explain. A confusing pull towards not one, but two of these powerful beings. Emotions that, if voiced aloud, would surely make me a target.
As I reached the bottom step of the staircase, I recognized Nox's voice instantly—deep, commanding, yet laced with a softness I hadn't heard before. It caught me off guard, making me pause. For some reason, I wasn’t ready to face him yet, not after the strange intimacy of this morning. The way his presence had felt both comforting and unsettling, a paradox that left me breathless. The memory of his touch, the warmth of his hand against my waist, sent a shiver down my spine.
Instead, I made my way towards what I thought the kitchen would be, hoping to avoid having to face any of them. My stomach growled—a timely reminder that I hadn't eaten in what felt like forever—adding a physical hunger to the emotional chaos churning within me.
I entered the kitchen, the scent of something savory wafting through the air, a welcome distraction from my anxieties. I peeked into a pot simmering on the stove—a thick, fragrant stew filled with chunks of meat, vegetables, and herbs. It looked delicious, and the warmth emanating from it seemed to beckon me closer. I reasoned that they wouldn't mind if I helped myself; after all, I've been here for god knows how long.
I found a bowl in one of the cupboards and ladled some of the stew into it, the warmth of it spreading through my hands, a small comfort in the vastness of the house, a tangible reminder of the simple pleasures in life. I carried it over to the table and sat down, blowing gently on the steaming liquid before taking a cautious sip. The rich flavors filled my mouth—a burst of savory satisfaction—and I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the taste, letting the warmth spread through me, chasing away the lingering chill.
As I ate, my mind wandered back to the brothers. I still couldn’t quite figure them out—their complex dynamic, their undeniable connection to me, and the baffling reason they were helping me. Zarek had been kind, almost protective, his touch lingering in my memory. Damon, on the other hand, seemed to view me with an unnerving suspicion, his words sharp and accusatory, as if he saw me as a threat. And Nox… well, Nox was an enigma all on his own, a silent, watchful presence that both intrigued and intimidated me.
I was halfway through my bowl of stew when I heard the door open. I looked up to see Nox standing in the doorway, his tall frame filling the entrance, making him seem even larger than I remembered. His eyes locked onto mine, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it hardened to the familiar mask of aloofness.
"You're up," he said, his voice neutral, almost strained, as if he were holding something back.
I swallowed, setting my spoon down, the clatter echoing in the sudden silence. "Yeah. Zarek said I was out for a while." I tried to keep my tone light, casual, but the weight of his gaze made it difficult. There was something about Nox that always put me on edge. He made me feel both seen and exposed, like he could peer into the deepest recesses of my soul.
He walked further into the room, his eyes never leaving mine. "You were. You needed it." He paused, as if considering his next words, his brow furrowed in thought, a crease appearing between those emerald eyes. "How are you feeling?"
There was an unexpected gentleness in his question, a subtle concern that caught me off guard. I hesitated, searching his face for any sign of his usual indifference, but found none, only a flicker of the real Nox that made my heart skip a beat. "I'm… okay. A little overwhelmed, I guess." I shrugged, offering a faint smile, trying to downplay the chaos swirling within me. "Just trying to figure out what's going on, but physically, I'm better." The throbbing headache that had plagued me earlier had subsided, leaving behind a dull ache.
Nox nodded, his features softening slightly, a flicker of relief crossing his face. It was fleeting—gone as quickly as it appeared. He moved to the counter, leaning against it as he crossed his arms over his chest, the casual posture negating the gravity of his gaze. "There's a lot to explain. But for now, just focus on getting your strength back." His eyes flickered over me, assessing, as if he was trying to gauge how much I could handle, how much I already knew.
I glanced down at my bowl, my appetite suddenly gone, the stew now a cold, unappetizing lump. "Why are you helping me?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. I raised my eyes to meet his, hoping to find some clue to the enigma that he represented.
Nox's jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. His silence stretched making me even more anxious. Then he let out a slow breath, his eyes darkening, a shadow passing over his features, like a cloud obscuring the sun. "Because whether you like it or not, you're part of this now. And that means we protect you." His voice was firm, resolute, leaving no room for argument, a declaration that echoed in the small kitchen.
I frowned, confusion swirling in my mind, his words only deepening the mystery. "Part of what? Why would I need protection?" I pressed, needing more than just cryptic pronouncements. I needed concrete answers, something I could grasp onto. Nox pushed off the counter, his eyes narrowing slightly—a hint of impatience in his movements, as if my questions were wearing on him.
"Can you just trust me on this?" His voice was firm—a warning that the conversation was over, that I wouldn't get any more answers from him. At least, not now. He turned as if to leave, but paused at the doorway, glancing back at me, his gaze softening just a fraction, a flicker of warmth in the otherwise cool depths of his eyes. "Finish your food," he added, his voice a low murmur. And with that, he was gone, leaving me alone in the kitchen once more, the silence amplifying the questions echoing in my mind.
"Finish your food," I mocked under my breath, the words echoing in the empty kitchen. My appetite had disappeared along with Nox, replaced by a growing irritation. I pushed the bowl away, the metallic screech against the countertop a jarring counterpoint to the silence. My thoughts were a tangled mess of questions and half-truths, a chaotic swirl of confusion and suspicion. Part of what? Part of some grand scheme I hadn't been informed of? Why was I involved in any of this?
I couldn't stand the non-answers, the constant deflection, the feeling of being deliberately kept in the dark. It was like trying to navigate a catacomb blindfolded, each step a gamble, each turn leading to another dead end. If I was truly part of this—whatever this was—I needed to know what was going on. I needed the full picture, the unvarnished truth, not the carefully curated fragments they deemed safe for me to know. Rinsing my bowl in the sink, I made a decision. I would head into the lion's den to confront Nox, Zarek, and even the infuriating Damon, and demand answers.
The main room was bright, the sun pouring in through the tall windows. Zarek and Damon were seated on the couches, close together as they spoke in hushed tones, their voices too low for me to decipher. They both looked up as I entered, their conversation stopping abruptly.
“Don't stop on my account,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, projecting a confidence I didn’t quite feel, as I walked over to them.
“How are you feeling after the bath and getting some food in ya?” Zarek asked, his voice warm and welcoming, gesturing for me to sit down, his concern evident in his amber eyes.
I opted for the furthest seat from them, wanting to maintain a certain distance, my eyes flickering between the two brothers, trying to gauge their moods, their intentions. “Much better,” I replied, my voice firmer now, the need for answers overriding my initial hesitation. “I need answers. Like can someone please tell me what the hell has been going on?”
Damon let out a small huff, leaning back in his seat—his posture radiating a casual indifference that I knew masked a deeper tension. “We were just discussing that, actually,” he said, his tone flat, devoid of any warmth or reassurance.
Zarek shot his brother a look, a silent reprimand, before turning back to me, his eyes softening with a mixture of apology and concern. “You’re right. You deserve to know what’s going on. But it’s… complicated.”
“Complicated?” I repeated, frustration bubbling in my chest, the word a dismissive brush-off that only fueled my anger. “I’ve been dragged into this, whatever this is, and no one’s bothered to tell me why. I deserve an explanation.”
Zarek nodded, his expression apologetic, acknowledging the validity of my frustration. “I know. And I’m sorry for that. There are things at play here that are dangerous, and we didn’t want to overwhelm you while you were still recovering.” His words were carefully chosen, a delicate balance between explanation and evasion.
Damon scoffed, his voice accusatory, cutting through the careful diplomacy of Zarek's words. “She’s part of it whether she likes it or not, maybe more than we know.” His words hung in the air, heavy with insinuation.
A chill ran down my spine at his words, his implication sending a shiver of unease through me. I swallowed, looking between them—the weight of their gazes pressing down on me. “Then explain it to me. All of it,” I demanded, my voice trembling slightly.
"Don't act like you are completely oblivious," Damon said, his words sharp, laced with a biting sarcasm, his eyes narrowing as they bore into mine, as if daring me to challenge him. "Or are you rea?—"
"Damon, stop," Zarek snapped, his voice edged with irritation, his patience clearly wearing thin with his brother's antagonistic attitude. He cast a warning glance at his brother before turning back to me, his eyes softening. “Alright. But you need to promise that you’ll hear us out, and that you won’t do anything reckless.” His words were a plea for cooperation, a request for me to trust him.
I frowned, a knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. “No promises," I retorted, "Just tell me.” I wasn't going to be manipulated or controlled—not by them, not by anyone.
Zarek took a deep breath, his gaze holding mine, a silent acknowledgment of my frustration. “There’s a lot you don’t know about Nexara, about what's coming," he began, his voice low and serious, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.
I stared at him, my mind racing, trying to process the significance of his statement. "Okay," I prompted, my impatience growing, "And what's coming?"
Damon leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with barely concealed hatred, his words dripping with a venomous disdain. “There are forces at work that want to control Nexara, to use it for their own gain. And you , Thalia, are their focus. Why is that?” His question hung in the air, a pointed accusation, a challenge to my supposed innocence.
I clenched my jaw, feeling my frustration boil over at his tone, his words cutting into me like a blade. Add getting under my skin to the list of things Damon was good at. He seemed determined to see me as an enemy, and his constant suspicion was wearing me down.
"Oh, good gods, Damon, why do you assume I'm some strong evil force out to get you?" I snapped, the words flowing out before I could stop them. "You treat me like a threat when all I've done is try to survive here. I'm just as confused and lost as you."
His eyes remained cold, unwavering, fixed on me. “Things just don’t add up. You show up here with no real explanation, claimed to have no powers, and yet you’re somehow part of all this. It’s suspicious, to say the least.” His words were a carefully constructed argument—designed to undermine my credibility, to paint me as a deceptive intruder.
I could feel my temper rising higher, the shadows starting to flicker at my fingertips, a physical manifestation of my growing anger. I didn't understand what was happening, why I was suddenly capable of manipulating shadows, but I knew it was connected to my emotions, to the rising tide of frustration and fear within me. Damon’s constant suspicion, his unwillingness to see me as anything but a threat—it grated on me, and I was done with it.
“Damon, that’s enough,” Nox’s voice cut through the tension, a warning clear in his tone, his sudden appearance adding another layer of complexity to the already charged atmosphere.
Damon huffed, leaning back into the couch, his eyes still locked on mine, a smoldering resentment in their depths. “Just don’t pretend like you’re innocent in all of this,” he muttered, his voice dripping with distrust.
I took a deep breath, trying to rein myself in as the shadows danced more violently around my fingers, flickering like dark flames. I clenched my hands into fists, forcing the shadows to recede, trying to maintain control.
Zarek leaned forward, his voice softer as he addressed me. “Look, Thalia, I know this is a lot. But there are people who would use you—use all of us—for their own purposes. We’re on the same side here.” His words were a reassurance, an attempt to bridge the gap that Damon had so deliberately burned.
"Are we?" I asked, staring directly at Damon, whose jaw clenched so hard it looked like he may break a tooth. I couldn't ignore his blatant hostility towards me. “Why me?” I continued. "Why am I involved in this? I didn’t ask for any of it.”
Zarek hesitated, glancing at Damon and Nox before turning back to me. “We don’t know—not yet, at least. But there’s something about you. Something that's attracting it. We’re still trying to figure it out ourselves.” His words were honest, a frank admission of their own uncertainty.
Damon let out a cruel laugh, his eyes rolling. “She’s more than just ‘ important .’ She’s a wildcard, a fucking question mark. And that makes her dangerous.”
My patience finally snapped as I glared at him. “You don’t know anything about me, Damon. All you see is a threat, but hell, maybe I am a threat to your fragile ego.”
The room fell into a tense silence, the air thick with animosity. Damon’s shadows flickered, and for a moment, I thought he might actually kill me. That his anger would finally boil over into violence. But instead, he just stood, his eyes no longer that deep blue, but now black, bottomless pits of rage and resentment. The transformation was unsettling. A glimpse into a darkness that lived within him, a darkness that seemed to mirror the shadows flickering at my own fingertips.
“Just remember what I said,” he muttered, his voice low and menacing, directed at Zarek and Nox, before turning and leaving the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. I noticed Nox following him out, his silence adding another layer of unease to the already charged atmosphere.
I looked back at Zarek, who was watching me with a mix of sympathy and admiration, his gaze a comforting presence in the wake of Damon's hostility.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, my voice barely audible, grateful for his attempt to mediate, to offer some semblance of understanding. “For at least trying to help me understand.”
Zarek shrugged, “We’re in this together, Thalia. Whether Damon likes it or not.”
“And what about Nox? Is he... uh... okay with this?” I asked, feeling embarrassed at the slight desperation in my voice, the question betraying my growing concern for his opinion of me. Something had shifted between Nox and me since the Wonders of Nexara, a silent understanding, a connection that confused the hell out of me.
Zarek's expression softened, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Nox is... complicated,” he said, pausing as if searching for the right words, his gaze distant for a moment. “But he cares. He might not show it the same way, but he’s on board. He knows what’s at stake.”
It's hard to read Nox—he was guarded, mysterious, his emotions always hidden behind that steely exterior, a wall he had carefully constructed around himself. But there had been moments, fleeting as they were, when I thought I saw something deeper.
Zarek leaned back, studying me for a moment before he spoke again. “You know, Nox isn’t used to letting people in. None of us are, really. But you... you’ve gotten under our skin.” He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “In a good way, I think.”
“Well, at least two out of three don't want to murder me anymore," I joked. "I don't think I've gotten under Damon's skin in a good way.” I added, though it came out more nervous than I intended.
Zarek's eyes sparkled, and he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Give it time. Damon’s not as tough as he pretends to be.” His gaze held mine for a moment, and I felt a flicker of something made me feel a little less alone, a little less adrift in the swirling chaos.
I gave him a small smile, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken connection between us. The sound of a familiar rhythm of footsteps echoed through the hallway. I looked up just as Nox entered the room, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the scene, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before flicking to Zarek, an edge of something I couldn't quite place lingering in his tone.
“Am I interrupting something?” Nox's voice was low, a quiet rumble that filled the room, his gaze flicking between Zarek and me, a silent question hanging in the air.
I straightened, a slight flutter in my chest, a nervous reaction to his presence. “No, just talking,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral, casual, but the awareness of his presence made it difficult to maintain the facade of composure.
Nox crossed his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable, a mask of indifference, but his eyes remained fixed on me—a silent, watchful presence that made my skin tingle. Before Nox could respond, the tension ratcheted up another notch as Damon stormed back into the room, his entrance as abrupt and disruptive as his exit.
“We need to talk about what happens next,” he announced, his voice sharp and commanding, his gaze immediately settling on me—his eyes cold and calculating, as if assessing my worth, my potential threat. “You want answers, Thalia? Fine . But that means you’re going to have to prove you aren't a threat .”
I frowned, a mix of irritation and curiosity bubbling within me. “What do you mean? I don't have to prove shit to you.” My defiance flared, fueled by his constant accusations. I wasn't going to jump through hoops for him—not after the way he has treated me.
Damon’s lips curled into a smirk, one that didn’t reach his eyes, a cruel twist of his lips that betrayed his true intentions. “Training. If you’re going to be part of this, you need to be ready. No more being a liability.” His words were a deliberate jab, a reminder of my perceived weakness—my dependence on them.
I clenched my jaw, his words cutting me deep. The memory of Nox protecting me in my dream flashed through my mind. “I’m not a liability,” I shot back, my voice rising with anger, my cheeks flushing with indignation.
Damon raised an eyebrow, his gaze challenging, daring me to prove him wrong. “Then prove it. Training starts tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.” He turned on his heel and left the room without another word, his abrupt exit leaving a lingering tension in the air.
Zarek sighed, shaking his head, his expression a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “Don’t mind him. Damon’s... well, Damon. He’ll come around eventually.” His words were an attempt to smooth over the rough edges of his brother's abrasive personality.
I wasn’t so sure. There was something about Damon—something in the way he looked at me, like I was an unwanted puzzle piece, an anomaly that didn't fit into his carefully constructed world—that made me doubt we’d ever be on the same side. But if this was what it took to get the answers I needed, to understand my place in this strange new reality, then I’d do it. I'd endure his hostility, his suspicion, if it meant getting closer to the truth.
“I should be getting back to my dorm,” I said as I started to stand up, my eyes moving to Nox's. His expression made me stop in my tracks, a sudden shift in his demeanor that sent a wave of anxiety through me.
“Absolutely not.” His tone was sharp, his brows furrowed down. The firmness in his voice that made it clear this wasn’t up for debate. His words were a command, not a suggestion.
I blinked, taken aback by his sudden assertiveness, the force of his words momentarily silencing my own protest. “Why not?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but there was a hint of frustration there. “I’ve been here long enough, and I think I can?—”
Nox shook his head, stepping closer, his eyes turning a dark forest green as they locked onto mine, the proximity of his body radiating a warmth that made my breath catch in my throat. “It’s not safe. You’re staying here, where we can protect you.” His words were a declaration, a promise of safety, but also a subtle reminder of the dangers I was apparently in.
The room seemed to shrink as he closed the distance between us, the weight of his look pressing down on me. I could feel the heat of his presence, the way his eyes bore into mine—searching, questioning.
I opened my mouth to argue, to insist that I could handle myself, that I didn't need their protection—but Zarek stepped in, his voice more gentle than his brother's, a calming presence in the midst of the brewing storm. “Nox is right, Firefly. It’s better if you stay here for now. We don’t know who might be looking for you. You can't trust everyone at the academy.” His words were a gentle reminder of the unseen threats.
I swallowed, my gaze flicking between the two of them, their words echoing in my mind—a chilling reminder of Professor Lorian, of the strange spiritual meeting I had interrupted, his cryptic words playing through my mind like a broken record.
I will make sure she's ready for you.
Despite my desire to be away from them—from Damon—I couldn't deny the logic of their argument. “Fine," I conceded, "but I'm not dealing with Damon's dramatic ass when he finds out I'm staying here.”
Nox’s expression softened, just a fraction, a subtle shift in his features that hinted at a deeper emotion. “Don't worry about him. Just trust us on this.”
I looked away, feeling the weight of his words settle in my chest. Trust . It was such a simple word, but it carried so much with it—a weight of expectation, of weakness. Who have I ever really trusted? The question echoed in my mind.
Zarek gave me an encouraging smile, “We’ll make sure you’re comfortable. It’s not so bad here, you know. Besides, you don't want to be going back and forth to your dorm after training with the devil.” He finished with a wink, his grin playful as always.
I laughed at Zarek's attempt to lighten the mood, “I guess I don’t really have a choice.” My words were a surrender, but also an acceptance, a willingness to trust them, to let them guide me through this unfamiliar and dangerous territory.
Nox’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, his eyes searching mine as if he wanted to say more. But instead, he simply turned and left the room, his silence speaking volumes.
Zarek reached out, his fingers lightly brushing my arm—a fleeting touch that sent a shiver of awareness down my spine. “It'll be fun having you here. And hey, it's a bonus for me that you're a beautiful female,” he added, a flirtatious charm that eased the lingering tension.
I rolled my eyes, laughing again, his light hearted banter a welcome distraction from the weight of the situation. “I still need my things, you know. Can I at least get them, or am I officially a prisoner here?” I teased, giving him a mock stern look, playing along with his flirtatious banter.
"Yes, yes, on it," Zarek said with a playful grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Anything for my favorite prisoner." He gave me an exaggerated wink before turning and walking out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts—with the lingering presence of Nox, with the weight of whatever coming for me.