The Dark Heir - Nyx

9. Nyx.

He thought he went too far when Nyx sat himself on the back of the roof of the neighboring house. He sat the trunk down and leaned against it, groaning as he ran a hand over the stab wound Theia gave him. She put up a fight, he gave her that, but the pathetic female laid on the floor and let him take back what was his father's. He thought she would've at least thrown the dagger back, but she just watched him.

He pressed a hand to the wound, hissing at the burning sensation. She got him down to the hilt, though had poor aim. She missed any vital organs, which Nyx was lucky for. He kept his palm against the wound as he turned when he heard a horrifying scream. He winced.

It wasn't the scream of someone who lost a fight, it was a scream of grief. He heard her voice tear, growing more scratchy as she went. Nyx stared down at the walkway to her home, cringing as her voice broke more and more. It tugged at the boy within him that loved her once. Somehow, the sympathy for her nearly overthrown the hatred he held for her. Before Nyx could do something stupid, three of the patrolling soldiers landed at her doorstep. One of them walked in while the other two turned and watched the road and skies.

The screaming ceased, and the soldier remained inside for a few minutes. Eventually, Nyx saw as he walked out holding the bloodied dagger. He heard the male speak with the others about the lack of damage to her body, but that a bloodied dagger was beside her. Nyx looked down at his own bloodied hand as he listened to them decide to stay outside of her home to ensure she didn't end her life.

Nyx clenched his jaw and stood, unable to hear them speculate anymore. With tremendous strain, he lifted the trunk again. It weighed more than he had expected, and rising into the sky was more of a task then he had bargained for. Not only was the trunk heavy, but he had to circle around the entire village to avoid the eyes of the patrolling soldiers.

Eventually, he made it to the house and landed on the porch with a loud thud. Nyx kicked the door open and marched in, dropping the trunk behind the couch. He slowly straightened, clutching the wound that had torn open again.

"What is that? What happened?"

Nyx winced. He had thought Zenova had gone to sleep. He lifted his gaze to see the young female on the stairs, clutching the banister with both hands as she stared at him with worry.

"It's nothing. Go to bed," he growled. Zen took another step down, making his head snap back up.

"Nyx, you're hurt. What happened?"

He wanted to scream. His teeth gnashed together as he fought the urge to shout at her. He lost when a cramp settled around the healing wound.

"Damn it, Zen! Go to bed!"

His younger cousin flinched, staring at him with enough worry that Nyx felt immediate regret. He didn't get to apologize before she hurried up the stairs and slammed her door. Nyx cursed under his breath as he kicked the main door shut and shoved the trunk to the bottom of the stairs. With one last push of effort, he lifted it and brought it into his own bedroom. He dropped it at the foot of his bed before leaning against the post as he caught his breath. Each time he strained, the wound tore again.

Nyx groaned and hurried into the bathing chamber, tearing off his shirt. He looked into the smudged mirror. Blood was smeared across his abdomen, though the cut was closing. Nyx winced and soaked a cloth before using it to clean the blood from his skin. The wound was still red and raw, but no more blood poured from it. Nyx grimaced at the now-pink cloth and tossed it to the basket.

He turned the faucet of the tub on and leaned against it. He couldn't help the small laugh that left him. Sure, hearing those screams had him second guessing his choices, but seeing the way she laid on the floor, her hand covered in his blood; Nyx was filled with a warmth that he could only describe as glee. He had started his revenge on the female that broke him down, and he couldn't wait to finish it.