The Heir of Night

44

Theia didn't expect Nyx to be in her room when she returned from the bathing chamber. There he was when she opened the door; lying on his back, moonlight cast over his exposed torso. Her throat felt dry, her chest rising and falling too fast. Theia had never been this nervous around Nyx, but she felt like he now saw another side to her. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and closed the door. Clad in a just a nightgown, Theia ran her hands over the silken fabric and stepped to the bed. Nyx's head rolled to the side to look at her when she placed her hands on the mattress.

"Pretty girl," he murmured. Theia stilled, meeting his eyes.

"What?" She asked breathlessly.

"You're pretty, Theia," he answered, shifting his wings beneath him to give her room to lay. Theia fought the way her hands shook as she climbed onto the bed and laid beside him, her head on his extended arm. His forearm curled around the back of her neck and his wrist was surely at an awkward angle when his fingers began to toy with her damp hair.

Moonlight laid over one side of his face, eyes brightened to near silver beneath its touch. Theia ran her tongue over her bottom lip, staring up at him through her lashes. He'd grown out that facial hair, adding to his years. She saw an indent of a scar on his cheek beneath the light of the stars and moon, unable to stop herself from reaching up and running her fingertip over it.

Nyx's lashes fluttered at her touch, his eyes falling closed as she laid her palm over his scruffy cheek. His cheek lifted with a smile and Theia felt her pulse quicken at the sight.

"You're pretty, too," she whispered. His eyes opened to meet hers, silver darkened by his expanding pupil.

"I want to kiss you," he murmured, tilting his face to press a kiss to the inside of her wrist. Theia nodded, unsure if breath still moved in her lungs.

"You can."

"I can't. Remember what my father said?"

"Since when do you listen to what he says?" Theia protested, her thumb running over his cheekbone. Nyx's nose scrunched again as he smothered a laugh. The arm beneath her head flexed as he moved to pull her closer. Defeated, yet still satisfied, Theia brought herself to lay her head on his shoulder and hook her leg over his hip. She kept her hand on his face, not wanting to forget the way he felt under her touch.

Wrapped in a warm embrace of his bare skin and scent, Theia sighed. It was a horrible day, yet he made it all seem worth it. She'd been through Hell, but it had brought her into his arms, into Velaris. Theia didn't want to return to that life, not with Nyx's lips pressed to her head and arms around her. She'd die here gladly; his arms could be her final resting place and Theia would find no complaint.

"Sleep," he hummed, resting his chin on her head. Theia curled further into his side, blowing out another heavy breath. It held her sorrow and rage from the day, blown out by the gentle touch of this male. Theia turned her cheek and pressed a kiss to his shoulder beneath her, feeling his wing twitch beneath the weight of her body. Theia wasn't sure how, but she fell asleep with him beneath her. It was a long, deep sleep that was rare to her. Theia usually woke up throughout the night feeling that empty sense of dread, but she didn't wake until the sun was tall in the sky.

She woke to warm lips on her throat. Theia breathed in, pine and spices clouding her mind. Blindly, she brought her hands up. They met heated skin, the corded muscle that extended down Nyx's ribcage and waist.

"Nyx," Theia whispered, arching into his touch. Her body responded to him as though he were the sun and she was a flower, turning and bending anyway best gave her the warmth.

"Good morning, beautiful," he rasped against her skin. Her hands slid along his waist to his back, pulling him closer. A gasp left her lips at the touch of his need against her. He smelled clean, like he had bathed before laying over her. Theia peeled her eyes open to see the clawed point of his wings above her, the mound of messy damp hair at her chest.