Chapter 35 Nyx #2
“You know, I thought he was the grumpiest asshole I’ve ever known, but that was before meeting his parents.” Fuck, why didn’t I think of that? Why didn’t he say anything before tonight? “They interrupted our drinking game just as shit was getting good. I almost had him—”
“He’s a shifter, he doesn’t get drunk like we do.”
His jaw drops, and then he howls with laughter again. “Oh that scaly fucker. I’m totally going to get him back for that. Hey, ghostie! How do you feel about playing a prank—”
“Milo,” I interrupt, “did you see where he went?”
“I think he stormed off outside, maybe check the patio? Don’t tell him I’m planning my revenge!”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” I salute, and leave him to whatever he’s plotting with the dead. But before I can make my way to the edge of the crowd and sneak out to the patio, Roth steps in front of me.
“Nyx.”
I glare at him. “Hello your Heir-ness, please get out of my way.”
“My parents would like to speak with you.”
“Cool, I’ll find them later.” I move to sidestep him, but he blocks me again.
“Now.”
He literally drips wealth in a black velvet tuxedo trimmed in black satin with platinum cufflinks and collar tips in the shape of a dog’s head. Even so, “You don’t actually get to tell me what to do, Roth.”
He crooks his eyebrow. “Is that what you think?”
I cross my arms over my chest, realizing too late that it accentuates my admittedly impressive cleavage even more in this corset top. I keep forgetting I finally have tits now, which in any other scenario I’d be very proud of. When I snap my fingers at him, he merely quirks his eyebrow.
“Last I checked, I wasn’t part of your little gaggle of ball-garglers.” I gesture vaguely to the crowd. “So until their request comes notarized and in triplicate, I’ll do it on my own time, thanks—hey!”
He grasps my bicep firmly and leans down to murmur in my ear. “Pretty bird, when the Devil tells you to sing, it’s best to sing like your life depends on it.” His warm breath on my neck makes me shiver, but it’s his words that have dread pooling in my stomach.
“Fine.”
“Good girl.”
Oh.
Ohhhhh fuck.
In my stunned shock, he takes the opportunity to lead us through the parting crowd without releasing me.
“Why do you call me that?” I ask.
He glances down at me and smirks. “You flew in by moonlight and sang so sweetly of defiance in the dawn. Then, pretty bird, you flitted around until none of us could forget your song.”
I frown. “What does that even mean?” But he doesn’t answer as the distance between us and the group of Councilmen and their families I’d been hoping to avoid at all costs closes.
He guides me in front of him and leans down to whisper in my ear, “And now I’ve caught you.
What shall I do with you, hm? Will you sing for me, too? ”
“I—” have no fucking idea how to react except to suppress my shiver as his words dance over my skin.
I recognize the four elemental patriarchs, Cyrus, and the women who must be their wives.
Renard is whispering with a stunning redhead who shares Roth’s black eyes.
Soren is…gross, fondling the much-too-young-for-him woman in a corner while Thane stands as far away as possible with Killian and an older blonde who’s smiling at him like the sun shines out of his ass.
Preston, Marcus, Cyrus, and a dark-haired woman are drinking together while Luther looms behind them, as miserable as I’ve ever seen him.
“Nyx.” When Roth introduces me to his parents in a wooden voice, I realize in hindsight that he was playing with me.
Toying with me. Son of a bitch. “You remember my father, Renard, and this is my mother, Rebecca.” Renard’s condescending tone is no less arrogant than it was at the hearing as he looks me over with that chilling, emotionless stare.
“Ms. Bryke, I’m told you’ve not had any more displays of power, is that correct?”
“Hello, Councilman Kovacs, how nice to see you again.” Roth’s grip on my arm squeezes, just for a moment. A warning, much like Tori’s. “That is correct.”
He locks eyes with me as he finishes his drink. “Shame.”
“Nyx—it’s lovely to finally meet you,” Rebecca holds her hand out limply and I gently shake her fingers because what the hell kind of handshake is that?
Roth’s close enough that his breath heats my neck when he laughs under his breath—at least I think he’s laughing.
Is that even possible? “Roth’s spoken very highly of you. ”
I look up at him with my best customer service smile. “Is that so?”
Everything from her smile to her tinkling laugh is a perfectly curated performance.
“Of course! I’m looking forward to hearing of your success in the Crypteia.
We’re expecting great things from our little Bloodwitch.
” I didn’t think I was that predictable until Roth preempts my instinct to mouth off and squeezes my arm again.
Despite the last time Roth touching me involved his hand around my throat, right now it feels…
comforting isn’t the right word, because I mean, it’s Roth.
But… at least I’m not alone in this proverbial pit of vipers.
“That’s so kind of you to say.” I beam until it feels like my face is about to fall off. Just as Renard is likely going to say something that makes me hate him even more than I already do, Rebecca catches sight of someone and waves.
“Excuse us, Nyx. Roth, let’s say hello to the Beauchamps.”
He tenses and I briefly mourn the absence of his heat when he says, “Of course, Mother.” Rebecca extends her hand in that same limp fish handshake and Roth takes it with a brittle smile so like my own. Renard joins Rebecca’s other side as her arm winds around Roth’s waist.
“Behave for Killian,” he whispers in my ear before they leave.
I swear to fuck I actually tingle.
Nope.
Not doing that right now.
“Nyx?” When I turn, Killian is drop dead fucking gorgeous in a deep blue velvet suit with black satin edging that complements his deep blue eyes.
This just isn’t fair.
“Hey.” He rakes his eyes over my body just as the older blonde joins him, who has his eyes, I notice. “You look beautiful tonight.”
He looks so sincere that I can’t help but blush. “Thank you.”
The woman lightly taps his chest with the back of her hand and smiles. “Killian, aren’t you going to introduce me to this lovely young lady?”
“This is my friend, Nyx. Nyx, this is my mother, Claire Hastings.” Unlike Rebecca, Claire, in comparison, is a beam of sunshine that melts away the unease from the creepy Kovacs’ with a single touch.
I shake her offered hand. “Mrs. Hastings, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Please, call me Claire. This dress is simply stunning, who’s the designer?”
“Um, I’m not sure, sorry.”
“If you find out, please let me know—if I can manage look half as good as you do in their design, I’ll be happy as a lark.” Her genuine joy is impossible to resist.
“Mom—this is the girl I was telling you about.”
“The Bloodwitch!” she gasps, resting her hand on my arm. “How are you holding up, honey? I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now.” Is this the first time someone’s asked me how I feel about all this shit?Jesus that’s a depressing thought.
“I’m okay, all things considered,” I shrug, flicking my eyes to Killian.
“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” She says it like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t punch me in the chest so hard my heart forgets to beat.
“Killian, I want you to help her if she needs anything, okay? Fate asks so much of us from this life, but sometimes you grow so tired of being strong.” The way they look at each other with resigned sadness, like they both know how heavy that bone-deep exhaustion weighs on your bones when you’ve had to be strong for too long, make my eyes heat with the threat of tears.
To have a mom like her…
But Killian’s voice stops me from getting lost in longing. “Nyx, would you like to dance?” He looks down at me with that same resigned sadness, like he already expects me to turn him down again.
“Yeah, Killian. I’d like that,” I say softly. His lips part, and then curl into a wide grin.
“I owe my mom a dance first, but I’ll find you after?”
I nod as he leads her to the dance floor, but Preston catches my eye when he realizes I’m all alone. His predatory gaze is devoid of the warmth his wife had.
“Ms. Byrke!” Cyrus peeks around him and his moth splits into a wide, smarmy grin when he sees me that I really, really want to wipe off his face.
“Join us, we were just talking about Cyrus’s plans for the Training curriculum next year.
” I quite literally could not give a single fuck about what Cyrus wants, but Tori, and more recently Roth’s, words of warning replay in my mind.
I promise myself that after playing nice with these assholes I’m going to find Ramsey and we’re going to pull an Irish goodbye, get into sweatpants, and God help anyone who tries to stop us from drinking the memories of this night away.
Cyrus steps forward and beckons me over.
“Nyx—Ms. Byrke,” he corrects himself ruefully.
Cute. “I don’t believe you’ve met my mother, Naomi.
” It’s not until then I realize Thane and Luther are standing behind their group, and Soren’s nowhere to be seen with his wife.
Silent and looming, he’s still enormous, still intimidating, but I can tell he’s not healed all the way.
I finally worked up the courage during class last week to ask Thane how Luther was, and when he began listing off what I’d done to him, it made me sick.
Any one of those things alone could have killed someone else, but somehow he survived all of them.
He’s still a grumpy asshole, but I’m kind of in awe.