Chapter 15 Nyx
NYX
Pain dragged me back to consciousness.
My skull throbbed with each heartbeat and made thinking difficult. My wings were cramped, folded at angles they weren't meant to hold, the joints screaming protest. Something sharp dug into my wrists, cutting through scales to the softer tissue beneath.
I tried to move. My hands wouldn't respond.
Bound.
I forced my eyes open, blinked against the darkness. Not complete. Enough light filtered from somewhere that I could make out shapes, surfaces, the dimensions of wherever I'd been thrown.
The walls were close. The ceiling hung low enough that I'd hit my head if I stood fully upright. The floor beneath me was hard, unforgiving, radiating heat like it had been baking under the suns for hours.
But the texture was wrong.
Even with my hands bound, I managed to press my palm flat, felt the surface. Smooth and strange. Not stone, not any material I knew from Scalvaris or the territories I'd scouted. This was something else entirely.
And I recognized it.
I'd seen this before, touched it once during the mission when we'd found Terra and the other humans. Her vessel had been made of this, great sheets of it twisted and torn by impact. We'd salvaged some pieces, brought them back for study.
Human construction.
My heartrate spiked. I sucked in air, tried to slow my breathing, tried to think past the panic clawing at my throat.
Where was Lexa?
I'd fallen asleep with her in my arms. Her scent had wrapped around me, her body warm against mine, her breathing soft and even.
Now I was here. Alone. Bound in a room made of salvaged human materials.
And she was gone.
I lurched upright. My head cracked against the ceiling, sent fresh pain radiating through my skull. I dropped back down, crouched on my knees, tested the restraints around my wrists.
The cuffs bit into my scales, tight enough that I could feel my pulse throbbing against the pressure. I pulled, twisted, tried to force my hands through the narrow opening.
The metal didn't give. My wrists started bleeding where the edges cut deeper.
I forced myself to stop. To assess. Panic wouldn't help her. Panic wouldn't get me out of here.
Think.
The room was bare except for me. No furniture, no supplies, no obvious weaknesses in the walls. The door was a dark rectangle in one wall, sealed tight. No handle on this side, no mechanism I could see to force it open.
The air tasted stale. Hot and still, like it had been trapped here for hours. Multiple human scents layered over each other, some fresh, some older. Sweat and fear and something acrid I couldn't identify.
But not Lexa's scent. I searched for it desperately, hoping for even a trace that would tell me she'd been here, that she was nearby.
Nothing.
My chest constricted. She was alive, she had to be. I'd know if she wasn't, would feel the severing like losing a limb.
But where?
I replayed the last moments I could remember. Falling asleep with her wrapped in my wings. The satisfaction of finally having her accept the bond, accept me. The rightness of it settling into my bones.
Then nothing. A gap where memory should be.
They'd taken me while I slept or as I was waking. Ambushed us, separated us, locked me in here like an animal.
Rage surged through me. I slammed my shoulder against the door, felt it shudder but hold. Again. The impact sent pain shooting through my already battered body, but I didn't care.
I had to get out. Had to find her. Had to make sure she was safe and unharmed and still mine.
The door didn't budge.
I tried the restraints again. Braced my feet against the wall, pulled with everything I had. My shoulders screamed. The cuffs cut deeper, blood running down my palms to drip on the metal floor.
Still nothing.
I collapsed back against the wall, breathing hard. My wings throbbed from being held in this cramped position. Every injury from the firebird fight made itself known, a catalog of pain I'd been ignoring.
Useless.
I was useless like this. Trapped, bound, unable to protect my mate or even determine if she needed protecting.
The worst possibilities cycled through my mind. Lexa captured, held somewhere else in this place. Lexa hurt, bleeding, calling for me while I sat here helpless. Lexa fighting her captors, outnumbered and alone.
Or worse.
What if she thought I'd abandoned her? What if she'd woken to find me gone, no explanation, no trace? What if she believed I'd left by choice?
The thought twisted like a blade between my ribs.
If she woke to find me missing, would she think everything we shared had all been a lie?
I pressed my forehead against my knees. Forced myself to breathe through the panic, the rage, the helplessness.
I had to focus.
These were humans. Had to be. The metal, the construction, the scents. But how?
And why capture me? Why separate us?
The door scraped open.
I lunged upright, ignoring the way my head grazed the ceiling. My wings tried to flare, hit the walls on either side, and folded back in on themselves.
A human stood in the doorway. Male, with dark hair and the kind of lean build that came from hard living. He wore clothing I didn't recognize, some kind of uniform in muted colors. A weapon hung at his hip, the design unfamiliar but clearly deadly.
He said something. The words were gibberish, sounds that held no meaning. His tone was measured, controlled. Not threatening but not friendly either.
I stared at him. Tried to parse meaning from the cadence, the inflection.
Nothing.
The humans in Scalvaris spoke Drakarn with the use of clever little translators. Communication had become easy over the months. But this human had no translator, no shared vocabulary.
He spoke again. Slower this time, like that would somehow make the words comprehensible. His eyes tracked over me, cataloging injuries, assessing threat level.
"Lexa." Her name came out rough, my throat dry from dehydration and sleep. "Where is Lexa?"
The human's expression shifted. Something flickered across his face. Recognition? Anger?
He spat at me.
The saliva hit my chest, warm and disgusting. An insult delivered with precision.
He said more words. Harsh this time, aggressive. His hand dropped to his weapon, fingers resting on the grip.
I held his gaze. Refused to look away, refused to show weakness even though I was bound and trapped and completely at his mercy.
"Lexa," I repeated. "I need to see Lexa."
More gibberish. He gestured sharply, the motion clearly negative. Denying my request. Telling me no.
My claws flexed against my palms. The cuffs prevented me from extending them fully, but the instinct was there, the need to tear into this human who stood between me and my mate.
He must have seen something in my expression. His hand tightened on his weapon, pulled it partially free of the holster.
A warning.
We stared at each other. The silence stretched, heavy with mutual incomprehension and barely restrained violence.
Then he stepped back. Said something else, tone final. Dismissive.
The door slammed shut.
Darkness swallowed the room again. The echo of metal on metal rang in my ears, faded slowly into oppressive quiet.
I was alone.
My chest heaved. The walls pressed in from all sides, the ceiling too low, the floor too hard. Everything wrong, everything unfamiliar, everything designed to contain something they considered dangerous.
The bond pulled tight in my chest, aching with distance and uncertainty. She was out there somewhere. Close enough that I could feel the connection, too far for me to reach her.
What were they telling her? What lies were they feeding her about me, about us, about what we'd shared?
I'd finally convinced her to accept the bond. Finally broken through her walls, earned her trust, claimed her properly. And now these humans were going to poison that, turn her against me, make her believe I was exactly what they thought.
A monster who'd stolen her.
I couldn't let that happen. Couldn't let them take her from me when I'd only just found her.
I had to get out of here. Had to find her, talk to her, make her understand that I would never hurt her. That everything I'd done, everything I'd offered, came from a place of devotion so deep it terrified me.
I threw myself at the door. My shoulder connected with brutal force, sent pain radiating down my arm. The metal shuddered but held.
Again. And again. Each impact jarred my injuries, made my vision blur. Blood from my wrists smeared across the surface, left dark streaks that disappeared into shadow.
The door didn't break.
I slammed into it one more time. Put everything I had into the collision, every ounce of strength and desperation and rage.
Nothing.
I staggered back. My legs gave out, dropped me to my knees. The restraints bit deeper, my wrists slick with blood. My wings throbbed, my head pounded, my whole body screamed for rest I couldn't afford to take.
She was out there. Somewhere beyond this door, beyond these walls.
I couldn't reach her. Couldn't protect her. Couldn't even tell her I was here, that I hadn't left, that I would never leave.
The helplessness was worse than any injury. Worse than being captured, worse than the pain, worse than the uncertainty.
I'd failed her.
Failed to stay alert, failed to protect us both, failed to prevent this separation. And now she was alone.
I pressed my forehead against the door. The metal was warm, almost hot. Like everything on this cursed planet.
"Lexa." Her name was a prayer, a plea, a promise.
I pulled back. Gathered what strength I had left. Braced myself against the far wall.
Then I launched forward. I hit the door with everything, my whole body behind the impact. My shoulder, my wings, my desperation.
The metal rang like a bell. The sound echoed, bounced off walls, filled the tiny space with noise.
I didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Hit it again, and again, each collision sending fresh pain through my battered body.
"Lexa!"