The Heir of Night

33

"I hate you, Nyx. I've never hated anyone more than I do you," she croaked. Theia brought her fists to his chest, arms tensing to shove him away. Before she could, he took her skin between his teeth, biting down and flicking his tongue. She shuddered, her fists resting on the warm skin.

"You might hate me more by the end of this. You've already made it clear you don't want me, so instead of touching you, I'm sending you down to sit in the kitchen while I cook for you," he groaned, pressing his lips to her skin once more before pulling away. Theia peeled her eyes open, swallowing roughly. She hated Nyx, but she hated the emptiness left behind when his touch vanished more.

He stepped back, motioning a hand to the bedroom door. She frowned, deciding that perhaps tomorrow she'd force herself to feign happiness and think in a way to make it believable. He looked at her expectantly, and Theia sighed. She turned and made her way out of his bedroom. Her back still ached as she marched down the stairs. Nyx followed behind her, and she had the overwhelming desire to stop suddenly and trip him.

She placed herself on the stool at the counter, letting her chin rest on her fist as Nyx began to move around in the kitchen. She watched his muscles ripple at each shift, grabbing the pans and knives. Theia cringed away, turning her head to observe the lines in the wood of the counter.

"Do you want to help?" He asked, dropping potatoes onto the counter. Theia sighed, but moved from the stool. She'd do anything he asked if it meant she'd return to her solitude. Theia rounded the counter and stood beside him, hands fisted at her side at the sight of the knife.

"What do I do?" She asked through gritted teeth. He placed a potato on the cutting board and held the handle of the knife toward her. Stupid heir. Theia took the knife, twisting it in her grip. She glared at her own hand, the way it trembled with intent. Nyx was watching, pushing the vegetable toward her.

"Cut it," he ordered, voice tight as though he knew what she was thinking. Theia scoffed- he did know what she was thinking. She felt those claws when she focused on it, feeling the click of his nails against her skull.

"I want you out of my head, Nyx." She gasped, his body now pressed against her back. She struggled against the tightness in her back to lift her wings, to block his view, but he dipped his head between them.

"If you want me out, stop thinking about me," he purred. Theia ground her teeth, staring down at the potato on the cutting board. "Cut it, Theia." His hand appeared on hers, gripping her hand over the knife. Cauldron, she wanted to spite him so badly. She wanted to slip her hand beneath the blade when he pushed down. She grabbed the vegetable, sliding it closer to the knife. Her eyes gleamed at the way Nyx dragged it closer, positioning it above the potato.

Before she could shove it down, Nyx snatched her other wrist. She groaned when he shoved her own arm behind her back, leaving her only with the hand he controlled. The blade slid through the center of the potato, a satisfying sound. When Nyx's grip loosened, Theia dropped the knife and shoved herself back into him, making them both stumble. She tore herself away from his grip and stomped to the sitting room, dropping onto the couch.

Nyx didn't chase after her, but she felt his eyes the entire way. Unable to stop herself, as that wave of adrenaline dropped, she brought her hands to her face. She'd cut off her own hand to get away from him. She'd saw it with the dullest blade if necessary.

"It's not necessary. I actually like your hands," Nyx called from the kitchen. She let out a frustrated shout, dropping her hands to her thighs and glaring at him. He was grinning, knife sliding through vegetables with ease.

"Offer me one thing, if you wish to take my freedom and my fucking sanity, let me have my own mind," she growled, eager to plunge the knife into those damn eyes. Her fingers itched to be coated in his blood.

"You can have your mind back when it's safe," he snapped, dropping the knife and bringing the cutting board to the stove. She burned him with her glare, nails digging into her thighs as she gathered the hem of the shirt into her fists. Theia decided that she was wrong the night before- she preferred the eternal abyss over the all consuming rage he fed her.

Would the High Lord and High Lady slaughter her if she harmed Nyx? He's in a war camp, bound to be sliced by blades at some point. Perhaps if she slit his throat in the night, the High Lady would bring her the cool death she craved. Then, she wouldn't have to suffer this life, and nobody would have to suffer him.

"I'll lock the blades up before bed," Nyx spoke, still facing away from her. Another scream of frustration tore through her lips as she shoved herself from the couch and marched up the stairs. She craved silence, she craved that hollowness. Nyx's presence was driving her mind into the fucking ground. Theia went into the bathing chamber, tearing his shirt from her body so harshly it burned the base of her wings as the buttons flew off.

She started the faucet, pacing as the tub filled. Theia dared a look in the mirror, pausing when she saw herself. It'd been so long since she let herself be seen through her own eyes, and it made bile burn her throat. Her hair was wild, broken pieces rising from her head as though the air held them up, her eyes rounded with the same shadows that sunk into the skin of her face. The softness she gained during those two months was already turning back into jutting bones and blue veins peering through. Theia didn't think it was possible to hate herself as much as she did, but it burned her eyes to see herself.

She growled, turning to the nearly full tub and turning the faucet off. She went to dump soap in, but her hand paused as it closed around the bottle. Excitement flared deep in her belly as she left the soap on the table and pushed her underwear down her legs. Theia climbed into the tub, goosebumps lifting her skin at the change in temperature. Slowly, she sat down, fingers clamped onto the porcelain edges.

Nyx was busy, he'd never know. She wanted to rid herself of him, tear him from her life piece by piece. Theia leaned back, letting the water swallow her body. She let herself suck in a final breath before dropping fully into the water. Entirely surrounded, it was comfortable. Like a hug, or a caress. Theia opened her eyes, willing to watch as her vision blacked. Maybe she couldn't use a knife, but there were weapons all around this house; seemingly innocent.

Theia watched her last precious breaths leave her lips and climb to the surface. She wanted to laugh; she wanted to gloat at her success. Ringing fills her ears as her chest began to burn. A smile lifted onto her face, her hands crossing over her chest as if to hold herself. Soon enough, her vision began to flicker; in and out, just like her soul these past months. She was flame being extinguished, and she only hoped Nyx would find her before the smoke dissipated.

Her smile dropped as a blurry figure appeared above her. She shook her head, feeling her eyes burn from the water clouding them. It wasn't enough time. A hand rippled the calm surface and gripped her hair, yanking her up. Water filled her lungs as she gasped, coughing when air tried to fill her.

"No," she mouth between coughs, trying to pull her legs up to her chest. Nyx yanked her head back with the grip in her hair, fury licking his eyes like flames.

"You fucking idiot. Now I have to supervise your baths," he snarled, using her hair to pull her up. Disappointment flooded her, agony tearing at her skin as he hauled her to her feet. Her last touch of control in her own life was torn away by the same male that took everything else.