Chapter 17
Thorian
At first, when Nyx shoved me backward, I thought she'd finally seen the reality of the Trials and panicked.
I've seen it happen before. Competitors freeze.
Break down. Make reckless decisions because fear overwhelms them.
The monsters, the blood, the realization that death is no longer theoretical. It changes people.
But that wasn't what I saw in her eyes. She looked terrified, certainly. Anyone would have been. Yet beneath the fear, there had been certainty. A purpose. As though she knew exactly what she was doing.
That should have worried me more than panic.
When she told me to stay still, every instinct I possessed screamed that it was a terrible idea. We were surrounded by monsters. Standing our ground should have gotten us killed.
Yet I listened.
Even now, I'm not entirely sure why.
I don't trust easily. Experience has taught me that trust is usually rewarded with disappointment, betrayal, or death. Most people spend weeks, months, even years earning what little trust I'm willing to offer.
Nyx had managed it in days.
And the strangest part is that I hadn't even realized it was happening.
Instead of getting us killed, she'd saved our lives. Against all reason, she'd known exactly what she was doing. With... magic.
The realization settles uneasily in my chest.
Since the moment I agreed to partner with her, I've viewed her as my responsibility.
The one I'd have to protect. The one whose weaknesses I'd have to compensate for.
I'd seen her struggle to hold a dagger. Seen her climb a cliff with shaking hands.
Watched her throw herself into danger for a sister she loved despite having none of the skills necessary to survive these Trials.
Or so I'd thought.
Looking back, I realize I've spent every day focused on what Nyx couldn't do. She couldn't fight like a warrior. She couldn't climb like a shifter. She couldn't match the strength of a berserker or the speed of a vampire.
But she'd never claimed she could.
Now, with Nyx sitting in my lap and her magic a not-so-distant memory, I'm forced to confront a possibility I hadn't seriously considered before. Perhaps she doesn't need me to carry her through these Trials. Perhaps we've both been looking at her the wrong way.
Including me.
“Nyx. What are you?” I ask, and my words have an edge to them.
She doesn't answer immediately. The forest is quiet now, the immediate danger passed, leaving only the sound of our breathing and the distant calls of creatures somewhere deeper in the woods.
She's still sitting in my lap. Still close enough that I can feel the warmth of her through our clothes.
I've spent days trying not to notice things like that.
Trying not to notice the way her eyes catch the light when she smiles.
Trying not to notice the admiration I feel watching her throw herself into impossible situations for someone she loves.
The stubborn determination that keeps carrying her forward despite every reason to quit.
Trying not to notice how often my gaze finds her when she isn't looking. How often I wonder if she's safe. How often I think about touching her. Yet here she is, looking up at me with uncertainty in her eyes, and all at once those observations become impossible to ignore.
There's fear there. Not fear of the monsters. Fear of me.
The realization twists unpleasantly in my chest.
I don't want her to be afraid. Not of this. Not of me.
My hands tighten slightly on her waist before I force them to relax.
"Nyx," I say quietly.
Her gaze lifts fully to mine. Neither of us moves. Then my eyes drop to her mouth, which is a mistake. A very serious mistake. Because the second I do, I become painfully aware of how much I've wanted this. Her touch.
Not just now. Not just after the magic. For days. Since the training room. Since the feast. Since I first watched her throw herself into a competition she had no business entering because she loved her sister more than she feared dying.
Her expression softens. Hope flickers across her face. And that is my undoing.
Slowly, I slide one hand to the nape of her neck. Firm enough to make my intentions clear. Loose enough that she can stop me if she wants.
She doesn't.
The distance between us disappears. And when our lips meet, it feels like the inevitable conclusion of something that’s been building between us from the moment we met.
The first kiss is soft. Careful. As though neither of us is entirely certain this is happening.
Nyx lets out a small, startled sound against my mouth, her fingers tightening on my shoulders. For a heartbeat, she goes completely still. Then she melts into the kiss.
The response sends a rush of heat through me, edged with danger.
The last traces of hesitation vanish. I deepen the kiss, sliding my hand lower along her back and drawing her securely against my chest.
She trembles, not with fear, but with arousal.
The realization nearly undoes me.
It's been far too long since I've held a woman like this. Far too long since I've wanted to. Most people keep their distance from me. Those who don't rarely stay. Somewhere along the way, I'd stopped missing it.
Stopped thinking about it.
Then Nyx Nocturne came crashing into my life.
Now she's sitting in my lap, kissing me like she means it, and I'm struggling to remember why any of my previous self-imposed restraints seemed reasonable.
For all her stubborn courage, for all the determination she throws at the world, there is still something wonderfully new about this. Something unguarded. Every reaction feels honest, instinctive, as though she's experiencing it as intensely as I am.
A soft sound escapes her, and she presses closer without seeming to realize she's doing it.
My pulse pounds. I'm suddenly aware of everything. The warmth of her body against mine. The way her fingers have found their way into my hair. The scent of her. The feel of her breath when the kiss briefly breaks before she follows me back as though neither of us is ready to let it end.
Gods.
I tighten my hold on her without thinking, drawing her closer. Rubbing her against my painful erection.
For a few reckless moments, the forest disappears. The monsters. The Trials. The danger waiting all around us.
There's only Nyx. Only the warmth of her in my arms and the growing certainty that walking away from this is going to be far more difficult than it should be.
A low growl rolls through the forest. The sound cuts through me like a blade. Reality slams back into place.
Reluctantly, I pull back, my forehead resting against hers as we both struggle to catch our breath.
Nyx breathes hard, still sitting in my lap but looking more withdrawn now.
The sounds of the forest around us are more like what they might be at home, birds chirping, the soft whistle of the breeze through the foliage.
Perhaps she’s breathing hard from the effort of the illusion. Or perhaps from the kiss.
“How did you do that?” I ask, my voice low, barely audible over the sound of the rustling leaves above us.
After a brief silence, she stands shakily from my lap and steps back, running her hands over her braid as she looks around nervously.
“What should we do now?”
Answering a question with a question. It’s clear she doesn’t want to talk about the magic, or about how she can wield it. I’m curious about her and I could argue that this falls under the umbrella of things we promised to tell each other, but I’m also no stranger to keeping secrets.
My own truths could influence her to make different decisions.
It would be hypocritical of me to push hard against this now. But I won’t forget. And maybe later I can get more information about what, exactly, the range of her abilities are.
“Well,” I say, heaving myself up off the ground and standing to face her, trying not to think about the fact that no longer sitting on the ground means the kiss is definitely over, and I’m not sure when my next opportunity might be to get that close to her.
Not that it matters since we’re in a fight for our lives. I’m not looking for a romantic partner.
That sobering thought does nothing to keep me from thinking about her warmth and weight in my lap, the rise and fall of her hips, how she’d pressed against me, fitting so perfectly.
“Thorian?” Nyx prompts, and her face is flushed red. Perhaps I’m not doing a very good job of keeping my thoughts hidden.
“Well,” I begin again, realizing I trailed off before amidst my thoughts of her. “Unfortunately, as you’re well aware, the other teams in this fight are a bit more advanced than us.”
She lets out a dainty snort, kicking one of her boots against the ground. The tension around us is beginning to relax, so we can breathe once more.
“That’s why our strategy is simple. We can’t be the team that wins through strength or fighting ability, so what we’ll be is the team that wins through stealth.
We need to start moving and get away from the others as fast as possible, especially because in this forest, we’ll never know when dusk sets in. ”
Nyx looks up at the sky, which is still the deep blue of mid-morning. Though it might seem like we have the rest of a long day between us and nightfall, I know we don’t. As the gods said, the forest is unpredictable and specifically made to be difficult.
“Okay,” she says, leveling her gaze back on mine, and there it is again—that deep, persistent pull in my chest. The one that makes me want to pull her against me and keep her safe.
It's the same feeling that first drew my attention to her in the palace and convinced me to follow her out to that tavern in the first place.
Maybe it's recklessness. Maybe it's the simple fact that she's beautiful.
Or maybe it's the fact that I can never leave well enough alone.