The man, Feron, approached, trembling and ghostly pale.
“Don’t!” Nya rasped. “You don’t understand what you’re doing, either of you.”
“What?” her captor sneered. “Because you’re some distant relation of Nyx? Believe me, girl, most of us can claim connection to one principal or another. You’re not unique in that respect.”
“He’ll kill you if they don’t first,” she wheezed around the hand holding her throat.
“Feron, give me the damn knife.”
She tried to grab the hilt of the dagger as it was handed over but only managed to wrap her hands around the blade. Still, she didn’t let go, blood streaming down her wrists from her palms. Her captor grunted, twisting and letting go for a moment, giving her one more chance to scream before he gripped her throat tightly with one hand and forced the blade down with the other.
For just a flash, she saw his face hovering above hers, faint silver ebbing in the muddy hazel of his irises. Then, his eyes widened, and he choked, blood coating his lips. She gasped, coughing, when his grip loosened and she could finally breathe again. A moment later, his body was flung against the far wall, smacking limply as it slid to the floor. She only saw his blank,empty gaze for a moment before the screaming started, and someone lifted her off the floor.
She thrashed blindly, tears mixing with the blood on her face as she screamed, “No, no,no?—”
“Nya, hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.”
Vaguely, she knew she was sobbing openly, still trying to escape because she did not want to die, not yet, not like this?—
“Nya, shh, it’s alright. It’s me. It’s Carus.” She opened her eyes to find him gently cupping her face, his brown eyes wide and familiar. “I’m getting you out of here, okay?”
In the corner, someone—Feron, she thought—was screaming and pleading. Energy crackled through the room, so potent, she could taste it. Her eyes darted to the sound, but Carus shook his head, pulling her face away.
“Don’t look. It’ll be over soon, but we need to go now, alright?”
Hazily, she nodded. This time, when picked her up, she did not fight, clinging to him as he carried her out of the room.
“Please, please tell him!” Feron screamed. “He told me to, but I didn’t do it! Please…Nya?—”
The last thing she heard before Carus rounded the corner was a low laugh, another shrill scream, and then Morgen speaking in a voice so cold, she hardly recognized it.
“What makes you think you can fucking say her name?”
She shut her eyes, tucking her face against Carus’ chest. Her body was shaking so hard, it hurt, her tensing muscles unable to relax. Neither of them spoke, not until they reached what she vaguely recognized as Morgen’s room and he had tucked her into several blankets on the bed.
“What will happen to Feron?”
Carus gave a low laugh, his eyes darkening with fury. “If he’s lucky, he’s dead by now.”
“And if he’s not?”
He raised a brow. “My guess is that Morgen is taking his time, and Feron is wishing he slit his own throat with that dagger rather than following along with his piece-of-shit friend’s plan.”
She shifted, wincing as the adrenaline and terror began to fade and the pain set in. Her throat felt bruised from the inside out, her aching hands covered in drying blood. She healed faster and easier than mortals, but, unlike Morgen’s healing abilities, it still took time.
Carus frowned, looking at her hands. “I can’t heal you, but he’ll do it as soon as he returns.”
“Do they know?”
“Who?”
She swallowed, tightening her jaw at the sensation but forcing herself to continue. “Our parents.”
A flicker of emotion crossed Carus’ face, but he didn’t address the way she’d spoken of her family as his too. Instead, he shrugged and said, “I figured it would be best not to mention it until you were safe. I kind of got the impression they’re ‘the tear down the mountain to keep you safe’, ‘ask questions later’ kind of people, and while I appreciate the sentiment, it would have been a mess.”
Her lips twitched with a barely-there smile, even though she really felt like crying. “You’re definitely right,” she croaked. “Thank you for realizing it.”
“They love you.” His voice softened as he said it. “A lot. I didn’t think… I thought that kind of love was something people made up.”
