28. Nyx
Nyx
Morning comes, but there’s no sun to show it, just the slight shift from black to a dim blue light filtering from the exposed roots. I’ve been awake for some time already, my body curled protectively around my new mate, listening to the steady rhythm of her heart.
I can’t believe we mated. It was almost too wonderful to believe. Half of me thought it was a dream, but when I checked Willow’s neck, my mate bond insignia was glowing brightly from where Circe placed it.
I pull Willow’s limp body in closer to mine, careful not to wake Rhune slumbering right next to her. I just want to bask in this for a while longer. To convince myself that she’s real, that I might finally be able to find happiness.
However, I only get a moment of peace before I hear it.
The sound of claws scraping against stone, emanating from deep within the tunnel and drawing closer with every passing second.
The hair on the back of my neck rises, and my muscles coil tight. I ease Willow gently from my chest, laying her down among the furs and rise to my feet, my wings flaring out at my sides as a low growl builds deep in my throat.
I will protect my Willow with my life.
Just before I lunge, Dravik’s head pokes out from the tunnel, his long orange locks splayed haphazardly around his blocky head.
He tumbles out into the open cave, and Cin follows close behind, his face lowered in shame.
Though, as soon as he scents Willow, his eyes lock on to her, brightening with a look of ravenous hunger.
Dravik notices us a beat later, and he rushes over, leaving Cin alone by the tunnel as he crouches at Willow’s side.
He reaches an arm out to her, freezing when his hand is a breath away from her cheek. “Is she…?”
“She’s sleeping,” I answer, reaching over to pet her head. “She’s been doing a lot of it recently. It’s… troubling.”
“But she is unharmed?” he demands, his eyes scanning her for injuries. “She smells of your cum.”
A smirk tugs at my mouth. “Oh. That. We sort of bonded while you were gone.”
He whips his head to me with a scowl. “You did not.”
“I did.” I shrug. “It was her choice. You know this.”
“I know, but still…” His frown deepens. “She is too good for you. Too good for all of us.”
“That’s just your self-hating nature talking,” I grumble. “Why don’t you learn to appreciate the good things in life?”
“We do not deserve good things.” He shoots me a look.
“You know why. But… there is nothing we can do about a soul bond, so we will just have to deal with the repercussions now.” He lets out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Tell me you at least pleasured her before thinking of yourself?”
I gasp, hurt. “I’m surprised, Dravik. Of course I did.”
At that moment, Willow’s eyes flutter, and she blinks sleepily up at us. For a moment, she doesn’t recognize us, but when she realizes Dravik is here, she lets out a gasp and leaps out of bed, throwing her arms around him in a massive bear hug.
“Willow,” he whispers, nuzzling her neck. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“What took you so long?” she asks, a hint of hurt creeping into her voice.
“As soon as Cin snapped out of his trance, we were hit with another massive storm,” Dravik explains. “Plus, someone decided to fly all the way out to the welwig forest with a fractured wing, and couldn’t fly to the cliffs.”
“I decided nothing,” Cin mutters, turning away with a frown.
“Still.” Dravik waves him off. “We had to wait until his wing was healed enough to fly here. As soon as we were strong enough, we came right here. Then we saw the arachnyx bodies, and feared the worst.”
He wraps Willow up in another hug. “I’m so, so happy you are unharmed, little one.”
“So am I,” she says, hugging him back. “I was so worried about you two.”
He pulls back, shocked. “Worried? About me and Cin?”
“Yes, silly,” she laughs.
“But… we are not mates.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t care about you and worry for your safety.”
His eyes widen, then flash with an emotion he’s never seen before.
“She’s got a point, you know,” I pipe up. “What do you think, Rhune?”
He grins. “I, personally, think we should forget about this silly conversation and have another group hug.”
Dravik raises a brow. “Do you, now?”
He nods eagerly. “I think it will help with the tension.”
“What tension?” Dravik demands. “There’s no tension.”
Rhune wiggles his brows. “Yeah-huh. The sexual kind.”
Dravik rolls his eyes. “My gods. Can you think of nothing else but mating?”
“Not really, no.”
Dravik huffs, releasing me and turning his deathly glare toward Rhune. “Well, you should be thinking about what we are going to do for a suitable home. In case you haven’t realized, ours was destroyed by angry ice wyrms. Your mate needs a warm place to rest and be comfortable.”
Rhune whines low, stepping close to Willow and throwing a wing over her shoulder. “We know that. We were just waiting for you two to decide what to do.”
“Well, the first thing is someone needs to go back to the lair and see if there is anything to be salvaged. Willow needs furs and plenty of food and bowls to drink water from. Right now, all we have is a healing pool.”
“Who should go, then?” Rhune asks. “Would it be better if we all went as a pack?”
“No. Willow needs to stay down here, where she’s safe,” Nyx says. “For whatever reason, the creatures of The Far Place are obsessed with her—especially the large and toothy ones. At least down here, the arachnyx can’t get to her.”
“That’s a good point.” Dravik nods. “In that case—”
Kevin cuts him off with a panicked bleat, pawing frantically at my leg. Before I can ask what’s wrong, Willow doubles over, a low groan tearing out of her mouth as she clutches her head.
“Willow?” I’m at her side in an instant, my hand hovering over her back, not knowing where to touch that won’t make it worse.
The roots peeking through the cracks in the walls flare an angry red, the exact shade bleeding into her irises. The ground shudders beneath us, and somewhere far below, faint but unmistakable, I swear I catch the chorus of a thousand ice wyrms.
What is happening to her?
“We’re here, Willow.” Rhune whines, crowding around her as I ease her body down onto the ground. Instead of being in pain, her expression is horribly lax, her eyes glassy and unfocused. I’m not sure which one is worse.
“It’s okay, Willow,” I whisper. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”
I don’t know if she can even hear me. Her eyes are fixed on some point past my shoulder, and no matter what I say, nothing seems to land. I keep talking anyway, speaking soft, useless reassurances to her because it’s the only thing I can do while I wait for whatever this is to pass.
I watch her carefully, that same familiar dread pooling low in my gut. I remember now what Willow said when she first arrived—that she thought she was getting sick. That this world was making her sick.
I’d brushed it off then, chalked it up to the shock of a new realm, a body adjusting to magic it was never built to hold. But what if I was wrong? What if something in The Far Place really was killing her? What if it’s too late now?
I gather her against my side, doing my best not to let the anxiety claw me apart as she curls into me and falls asleep. This can’t happen. I just found her. I finally thought things were going to be okay…
I swallow my emotion, gazing back toward the exposed roots. They’re still pulsing that horrible red color, and I have no clue what it could mean.
It can’t be anything good, though.