Chapter 18 #2
“I had never met anyone like your mother. From the very beginning, she captivated me. She was a force of a woman unlike any that I’d ever met.
But above all else, she was kind. Timid.
” He shook his head. “I know it was real. She was good, Nymiria. Before she allowed her parents to get to her, before that darkness took hold of her core, she was good. I only started to see a vast difference in her personality when she urged me to conceive a child with her. Her parents demanded she have an heir, so we did.”
Nymiria felt that familiar ache in her chest, her brow crumpling just slightly before Thorn cleared his throat and reached for her hand.
“I wanted you, Nymiria. Never, for one moment, would I want you to think that you were not conceived out of love.” Even though his words soothed her, there was still a deep hurt inside of her, one she believed could never fully heal.
Thorn held onto her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he continued to speak.
“Though Inasha changed, there was still a part of me that believed I could get the old version of her back. I tried everything, but the more I grappled with those pieces of her, the more she pulled away. She would disappear for weeks at a time and then come home and demand things from me. She stopped telling me she loved me. She became cruel and quiet and… she didn’t even tell me she was withchild before she left.
She didn’t tell me anything about her plans.
All I knew was that both of you were gone and then, months later, I woke up to a baby crying and a note written to me in your mother’s handwriting stating that he was our son.
She didn’t name him. She said she wanted nothing to do with him or me and for me to stop looking for her. ”
Nymiria could see the pain in his eyes, the sorrow of having lost the woman he loved, not just once, but multiple times.
As if sensing her pity, Thorn offered her a half-hearted smile.
“The mating bond was the only thing that tied me to her. The love I had for her only existed for the woman she killed—the version of herself that she butchered and threw away. But I will never regret having been with her. I’d do it all over again if it meant that I would have you and your brother. ”
“You said that Alvaros wanted to negotiate a deal… what did she agree to?”
Thorn sighed, pulling his hand away from hers to drag over the length of his beard.
“It was the betrothal, in the end. They wanted a marriage contract. If your mother and I were to have a child of the opposite sex as one of their children, they would marry. Those plans existed between the kingdom of Nym and Alvaros, not Eadyn. It was your mother that signed that contract, not me. And if I have anything to say about it, my love, you will never be forced to marry anyone that you do not love.” Nymiria smiled at that, a sense of ease slowly working its way through her once again. “Speaking of love and mates—”
“Papa, let’s not discuss that.” She said quickly, cheeks pooling with blood almost immediately.
“Aziel is a good man.” He offered, concealing his smile with his tea cup.
“I know he is. But that… we—”
Raina appeared on the veranda, the look on her face a cross between urgency and surprise. “Thorn, they’re here.” She called.
Nymiria looked at her father as he palmed his eyes, that joy that’d been there merely a moment before now entirely gone.
“You should leave.” He stated, the light in his voice having dimmed.
“Everand has returned with his parents and the last thing I need at the moment is them looking at you like some sort of trophy.” He brushed the crumbs from his shirt and beard, motioning for Rhaina to allow them in.
The conversation she had with Aziel about Everand and his desire for power moved to the front of her thoughts. “Does anyone else know what I am?” Nymiria blurted. “You and Inasha both knew what I was—what I was meant to become, but did Everand’s parents happen to know?”
She could tell by the solemn look he wore that her suspicions, and Aziel’s, were correct.
They were fully aware of her godhood. It came as no shock to her, as it seemed her mother was keen on parading her around like some prized possession rather than an actual child.
Even Dorid had known well before she had.
“Your mother used your future as a means to barter with people,” Thorn began. “I never approved, but there was not much I could do. I can do something about it now, which is why I have denied any request of you being involved in this discussion.”
Nymiria nodded, brushing her teeth over her lower lip. “Perhaps I should be involved.” She suggested. “Maybe not in terms of marriage, but there are other options.”
“Like what?”
She shrugged her shoulders, stomach curling nervously.
“Instead of outright forming an alliance with Eadyn, perhaps they could dedicate themselves to me, binding the kingdoms by the blood of a god. I’ve been reading texts about how kingdoms of the past used to dedicate themselves to a certain god, inherently making any of the other kingdoms that served that god their brethren. ”
Thorn’s thick brow drew together. “Dedications require a blood offering, Nymiria. If anyone betrays that oath, they will die.”
“All the more reason to put the offer on the table.” While she wasn’t particularly fond of the idea, herself, it seemed to be a reasonable bargain.
If Alvaros wanted her favor, they would also need to prove themselves.
She was not just a daughter or a being that could be traded as goods.
She was a goddess, as much as the thought of it made her cringe.
“Those with pure intentions have nothing to worry about.”
“And if they don’t have pure intentions?”
She smiled. “Then Aziel and Trio’s suspicions would be found correct and you’ve saved yourself from betrayal.”
He stared at her, visibly torn. “I’m not fond of using you—”
“I am offering my help.” She assured him. “In the meantime, I might suggest looking for alternatives. While it is important to have alliances within the continent, Dorid’s greatest strength came from his external alliances.”
“Caddagh?” Thorn scoffed. “Yes, I’m aware. They’ve plunged their claws into any continent they can get their hands on. Traitors to their own kind, that lot.”
Dorid’s lineage traced back to one of the many Caddisian warlords.
When he was able to prove his relation, Caddagh had pounced at the idea of having a hand in all political matters and war strategy.
When Nymiria was younger, they were taught that Caddagh defied everything that should have been within their nature.
They were brutal and cruel, with a bloodlust in them, and such an insatiable desire for power that they cared not about any sort of repercussions.
Even in terms of religion, Dorid had given reign to Caddagh.
They’d created their own gods to fit their own agendas, so that they could absolve themselves.
Dorid prided himself in that religion, in forcing his subjects to also follow the new gods, so that he might be granted leniency.
So that his people could not argue his methods and practices. It was a religion solely based on lust.
Nymiria drew in a deep breath, forcing the bastard from her mind. She put on a smile, placing a gentle hand on her father’s shoulder. “Mention it to them. Tell them that I have offered myself to them, just… in a different way.”
Thorn nodded, pulling her into an embrace and placing a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you.” He didn’t sound nearly as torn as he had before, but she could still sense his worry.
Instead of lingering around, Nymiria took her leave through the courtyard gate.
She wanted to avoid facing Everand at the moment, her anger still very much present.
While she did not hate him for his confession, she still could not work her way past the idea that someone would try and have her, even if she did not want them.
Everand had been a good friend, but she couldn’t see him as anything beyond that.
The thought of becoming his wife now made her skin crawl.
“Nymiria!”
Groaning quietly, Nymiria turned to the man that was now running after her on the beaten path that would lead back into the city.
His eyes were wide with worry, appearing disheveled and distressed.
When she met with Everand in weeks prior, he’d always been rather put-together—dowsed in finery and perfectly tailored suits. Now, he looked like a commoner.
“I saw you leave.” He came to a halt at her side, taking a long drag of air. “But I couldn’t let you go without apologising to you for what I said during our last meeting. You were correct, I had no right to speak about Aziel the way that I did and…”
His voice trailed off, his brow furrowing as if he’d only just realized something. He took a step away from her, his jaw going rigid. “I thought you said that you and Aziel were not together?”
Nymiria glanced around for any indication that she’d betrayed that statement, wondering if Aziel had appeared behind her or if she bore any marks of what’d happened a couple of nights before. “We aren’t.” She pressed, unable to control the snap to her tone.
Everand carded his fingers through his hair, pausing when the gate behind them slammed shut. Nymiria’s heart kicked into a quickened rhythm, the threads of her soul gravitating to the presence that was now approaching them.
“Rather unbelievable given the circumstances, isn’t it?” Aziel said, a certain smugness to his tone that’d once been reserved for her. The cadence of that tone made the hair on her arms raise, as if the scent of his death had not already startled her senses.
“Aziel…” It was a warning. She knew that he did not say things, nor make promises that he couldn’t keep.
He’d warned her once that he’d kill anyone who believed they could have her.
And as much as she would have liked to pretend that it’d been said in the heat of passion, the look in his eyes as he observed Everand was unmistakable.
Everand looked between the two of them, his brow furrowing at their exchange. “The two of you…”
“It’s nothing.” Nymiria snapped. “Aziel and I are not together..” Aziel’s brow raised, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Nymiria felt lightheaded, that familiar heat crawling from her neck and settling into her cheeks.
The weight of his gaze felt like hands upon her skin, filling her mind with memories from that night—her pressed into the mattress, his mouth moving over every inch of her skin, his fingers pumping rhythmically between her legs. “Stop that.” She hissed.
Aziel rolled his eyes, that same smug expression still fixed upon his face as he turned to face Everand.
The poor man still looked halfway to heartbreak, dark eyes sad and his features drooping.
“My apologies. Seeing as I have rudely interrupted your conversation, I will be taking my leave now.” He dipped his head in a slight bow, backing away one pace before turning on his heel.
Nymiria watched after him, anger and white-hot desire flooding her senses more and more with each languid step he took. She drew in a shaky breath before slowly turning to face the prince in front of her. “Would you excuse me?” She asked apologetically.
Everand’s eyes were still clouded with confusion and disappointment.
It was almost too much for her to bear, but the desire to rip out Aziel’s throat was stronger than her desire to sit there and pretend like she was alright.
The man gave a small nod and Nymiria smiled, patting his shoulder before she charged off in the direction that Aziel went.
She was panting for air by the time she finally caught up to him, grumbling curses under her breath as she watched him step into the forest. Balling her hands into fists, she quickened her pace until she was only inches from him.
She lifted her hands, preparing to shove at his shoulders, but the moment her palms opened up against his back, Aziel had turned.
She’d forgotten his speed, how breathtakingly quick he could have her laid out on the ground or pressed against something.
And she was suffering from her mistake right at that moment.
All of the air was knocked from her lungs the moment her back collided with the rough tree bark, her stomach dipping dangerously at how close his face was to hers.
Aziel’s eyes flickered over her face, his hand fitting perfectly to the curve of her waist. “You are a horrible liar, Moonflower.”
She did her best to steel her features, clamping her mouth shut to keep an embarrassing squeal from leaving her lips.
It hung there, thick in her throat, as his hand fell to her hip.
She cleared her throat, relaxing the muscles of her face as she lifted her eyes to his.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. ”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Even Everand knows what I’m talking about. Do you think that the men around you cannot smell me on you, Nymiria?” He stepped back so swiftly that her body was left slumping and cold against the tree at her back.
Nymiria continued to stare at him. Her ribs felt too tight against her lungs, her stomach swirling.
She would only be lying to herself if she claimed that she did not enjoy it.
He’d been correct before—that his promise of violence excited her.
That watching him be exactly who he was made her body react in the most obscene ways possible.
Aziel took another step back, as if it was to test her strength—to see if she was strong enough to resist the tension between the two of them.
She wasn’t. She knew that she wasn’t. She had tried so hard to get him to stay away that it’d nearly destroyed her, but everything she believed about herself and who she was became so blurred and skewed when he looked at her this way.
It was almost as if she was seeing herself from another perspective, entirely, any moment that he was around.
He drew in another steadying breath before reaching for the tips of his gloves. He pulled them off, finger by finger, until his hands were left completely bare. The gloves fell to the earthen floor, his eyes still honed in on her.