The Heir of Night

8

"Where are we going?" Theia grunted, picking up her steps to reach Nyx's side. He was leading her down a cobble street, buildings tall around them. It seemed so much more serene than the village, but Theia didn't trust this new place. The secret City may be safe, but she was alone with a warrior that brought her to an entirely unknown place.

"My home," Nyx responded, glancing at her through the side of his eye. She met his eyes through her brows, shoving her hands into her pockets as a way to stop herself from attacking him. Her fingers itched to wrap around his wide neck.

"And why are you bringing me to your home? I'm quite certain the High Lord wouldn't be interested in hearing what I have to say while he's in his sleeping clothes."

Nyx's lips lifted into a grin, but before he could respond, something slammed into the ground beside them. Theia yelped, stumbling back to use Nyx as a blockade against the threat, but he simply laughed. Her eyes shot to him, and then to whatever had just nearly crushed her.

Cauldron. An Illyrian warrior, seven blue siphons, darkness swallowing him beneath the moonlight. It was the High Lord's Spymaster, the Shadowsinger.

"Bringing strangers home, again?" The Spymaster mused, his golden eyes trailing over Theia. Her throat tightened and she was sure a squeak left her lips. Nyx stepped to the side, motioning toward her.

"Mm, this is Theia. She's very inclined to speak to my father, so I brought her with me tonight."

"Speak to your father? It's the middle of the night, Nyx. You couldn't have waited until sunrise?"

"She was very persistant." Theia's eyes narrowed, her fear climbing into rage.

"You kidnapped me! I'm meant to be at work right now," she snapped. The Spymaster grinned, lighting his handsome face. It was then she noticed the shadows along his body, curling around his face. Fear spiked, but she kept her glare.

"Nyx, you can't just kidnap females and bring them home. It's not real unless they come willingly," the Spymaster spoke, lifting a brow. Nyx snorted and shoved the male's shoulder.

"Fuck off, Az. She practically screamed that she wanted to meet my father, and I simply was tired of listening to it. She can stay in the guest rooms for all I care."

"Guest rooms? Do you mean you expect me to stay overnight here? I have work, Nyx. You may not understand that term, but it means I cannot be away from Windhaven any longer!"

The Spymaster's smile dropped. Her muscles tightened in a silent plea to run, but Theia stood her ground. Nyx turned, giving her an exasperated look.

"You said you wanted to speak with my father. This is your chance. Like I said, if you refuse to join me, you're welcome to make the flight back," he spoke low. His tone proved that he had no wish to argue, that his word was law. Her jaw clenched tight enough to make her ears ring. He knew she wouldn't fly back, if she even could. With one last glare, Theia dropped her eyes to their feet.

Nyx turned and slapped a hand onto the Spymaster, Az's shoulder. The male turned with him and they both began to lead Theia through the City. She watched their wings, eyes shifting to the buildings and streets every now and then. Soon enough, the buildings grew sparse and Theia could spy a roof over the males' heads. It loomed beneath the night sky, every bit the High Lord and Lady's power.

The home was massive, more-so a palace than a house. Even in the night, Theia could see the white-washed brick and the shrubs that surely gave more privacy in the summer months. The two males held no hesitation as they marched up the steps and pulled open the double doors. Theia slowed, glancing up at the windows above. it felt wrong to enter the High Lord's home without his knowing, or permission. Even if his son and Spymaster were the ones to let her in, it felt like an intrusion. This was their peace, and a village-born grimy female was barging in.