The Dark Heir - Nyx

57. Theia

It felt as though something sat heavy on her chest. Her breathing felt too shallow, painful almost. People were all around her, but her eyes remained on the High Lord. Theia felt someone walk into her shoulder, making her stumble to the side. She caught herself, dropping her eyes from Rhysand's. There were too many people. Somehow, she had made her way near the dance floor.

Her gaze whipped from face to face, vision blurring as she tried to catch her breath. A blur of darkness swept across above the sea of heads. Her eyes latched, seeing Azriel slipping from the alcove. He was aiming for the dais, where Rhysand was beginning to stand. She heard herself gasp for air, a whimper following when it felt too big. Her hands trembled as she dusted them at her sides and hurried after Azriel. She wanted to hurt him, to kill him. She held no weapon but her rage felt just enough.

"Come to me, my love. Theia, come to me."

Nyx's voice filled her mind, so gentle and sweet. She faltered, but the urge to slit the Shadowsinger's throat was too heavy. Theia shoved past people, glaring at the wings of the male. Finally, she forced her way out of the crowd and followed the stone walls down. The sconces burned bright, making her nearly have tunnel vision for the darkness just beyond.

He seemed to slow his steps. Theia should've known, should've caught the way his head turned slightly, but she was fueled by the need to hurt someone. The moment her footfalls brought her within feet of his wings, Theia launched herself. A growl of frustration tore at her throat when her hands hit his wings. One moment, they were in the crowd. The next, Theia was hitting the cold floor of the sitting room they had arrived in.

"Did you truly think I didn't see you?" Azriel asked. The breath Theia took in was a wheeze, tears of frustration blurring her vision as she brought herself to her feet. She sent herself into his chest, shaking fists slamming into the hard leather. His rough hands caught her, holding her at arm's reach. A sob wracked her chest as she tried to hit him again and again, nails digging into the leather on his arms.

"Why? Why do you all hate me so much?" She shouted, baring her teeth as she swung again.

"I was ordered by my High Lord," Azriel spat. His touch felt bruising and all Theia wanted was to claw at his face. She wanted to hurt them, she wanted to kill them, she wanted to fucking breathe.

She hadn't noticed the two pairs of boots walking into the sitting room. Not until a hand was around her waist, dragging her from Azriel. Theia kicked and screamed out, her throat burning from the sobs. Her chest ached for the air that wouldn't come to her. In another moment, she was sat in the winged chair by the burning fire and another blur was on Azriel.

Theia blinked, her nails digging into her thigh in the strip of absent fabric. It was Nyx. Azriel stood in place, his hands at his sides as Nyx sent his fist into his jaw. He stumbled back a step, but he didn't fight back. He could, easily, yet he didn't. Nyx punched him again, and then caught him by the neck of his leathers.

"Fight me back you fucking coward," Nyx spat, sending another fist into Azriel's jaw. Still, the Shadowsinger did nothing. Theia hiccuped, trying to suck in air between her teeth. Her chest burned and before she knew that she moved, she was now clawing at the skin above her breasts.

"That's enough," Rhysand's stern voice sounded. She could hardly see him as he grabbed Nyx's shoulder. The heir shoved his father back.

"Get the fuck away from me," he snarled. Theia wished she could see him clearly. She wished she could breathe. Nyx sounded feral, primal, a mate protecting a mate. She wasn't that, yet he treated her like she was.

"Nyx, stop it," Rhysand barked, ripping his son from Azriel. Still, the Shadowsinger didn't move.

"Why the fuck won't you fight me back?" Nyx spat. Theia could see that he didn't pull his father's hands from him.