The Heir of Night

41

The distractions were growing sparse, and Theia couldn't help but assume that meant she needed to close that portion of her life for good. There was nothing left for her in Windhaven, and maybe even when Nyx returned to the camp, she could remain in Velaris. It was as though she missed the memories of the village, but not Windhaven itself.

"Mm, Rhys needs me in his office. You can finish up or we can continue tomorrow," Feyre chimed, setting her brush into the indent of the easel and standing. Theia nodded, wiping her own brush against the bottom of her pants and uncrossing her legs. Frowning, she glanced between the two paintings as Feyre left the room. The styles were completely different, but her own canvas was not horrible. With a sigh, Theia stood from the chair and left the room.

She turned down the corridor along the foyer. She was aiming for her bedroom to lay around until dinner, chest thumping when she thought of Nyx possibly already in there. He hadn't gone to his own room lately, even if he chose to nap, he'd go to Theia's bed. She never wanted to admit it, but she craved his arms around her at night. Theia bit down on her lip and glanced toward the front door as she passed it. Nesta was shutting the door as she stomped her boots off.

"Oh, Theia! Perfect, I came here to talk to you," Nesta spoke as she used her toes to pry her boots off. Theia slowed to a stop, brows pressing together.

"Talk to me?" She echoed. She hasn't spent much time alone with Nesta in her couple weeks in Velaris, so she didn't understand why the female needed to speak with her.

"Yes. I don't know if you remember, but the first night you stayed here, I told you I'd like to speak with you when you got settled. Are you settled?"

Nesta left the entryway, brushing snow from the front of her gown. Theia shrugged, glancing toward the staircase. "I think so."

"Let's go somewhere private. Your room, perhaps?" Nesta suggested, slipping her arm into Theia's. Theia nodded with a small sigh and began to lead her up the stairs. When they reached her room, Theia prayed Nyx was not in there. That prayer went unanswered; the male was sprawled across her bed, chewing his fingernail as he read from a book.

"Oh! Nyx?" Nesta spoke in surprise, glancing between the two as she slid her arm from Theia's. Thankfully, Nyx was in lounging clothes, not shirtless like he was so often. Nyx whipped his head to the side, eyes wide on Nesta. It wasn't so much a secret that the two spent so much time together, but the family wasn't aware that he spent each night in her bed. He'd go to his own room, and then winnow to hers in the night.

"Oh, hi, auntie Nes. I was just waiting for Theia to get done painting with my mother," Nyx spoke coolly as he pushed himself up and closed the book. Nesta hummed, not hiding her smug grin. Theia blushed, stepping aside as Nyx drew closer. He tapped the top of her head with the book, shooting her a quick grin as he slipped between the females to leave.

"I wanted you to read this book. Find me when you're done, yeah?" Theia nodded, knowing that was a ruse. She knew well enough that he was waiting for her to crawl into the bed with him so that they could lay together before dinner. Nesta closed the door as Nyx left the room, brow raised at Theia.

"What?" She snapped. Theia didn't mean to sound harsh, but she didn't want her small bubble of friendship with Nyx to be popped by someone else shoving into it. Nesta shrugged.

"Nothing, nothing."

Theia frowned and crossed to her bed, dropping down on the edge and bringing her feet onto the running board. Nesta sucked her teeth as she studied the room. Eventually, she chose to sit in the armchair by the wardrobe.

"What did you want to talk about?" Theia asked, wrapping her arms around her knees. Nesta sucked in a long breath and let it out just as slowly, as if she were prepping herself to speak. It made Theia's skin crawl with anxiety.

"The night you came here, Nyx took me to speak about your past. Well, not your past but the situations that brought you here. He told me about your willingness to change the morals in the village, your mother, the situations you dealt with, the way you feel. I wanted to speak to you because I've been through those things. I think I can talk you through it," Nesta spoke softly, tilting her head.

Theia frowned, arms tightening around her knees. She didn't want to talk about what she went through, what she felt. "I don't think that's necessary."

Nesta sat back against the chair. Her eyes narrowed, arms crossed. "I think it is necessary. Like I said, I've been in your situation. I know the denial, I know the rage. I know it all, Theia. I can help you work through it."

"I appreciate your effort, Nesta, but there's nothing to work through. I'm fine," Theia argued, setting her jaw as she matched the female's eyes. Nesta's stare was unforgiving, Theia felt it against her bones.

"Nyx told me how often you wanted to end your life, that you even attempted it when he offered for you to live in his house in the village. I don't know about you, but I don't think someone who regularly wants to end their life is 'fine'."

Fine, then. Nesta wasn't pretending to lace her words with gentle kindness anymore. Theia pursed her lips and shifted her weight, dropping Nesta's gaze. "I've been distracting myself," she murmured.

"Distractions are temporary," Nesta sighed, shifting in the chair. "I distracted myself with alcohol and sex. Are you using Nyx as one?"

Theia's eyes darted to Nesta's face, heat climbing her neck. How honest should she be? "Not necessarily. He- uh- he told me to, use him I mean, when he first came to my house. When he held me in his house, he tried to get me to use him again and again. I didn't think it was right. I haven't since, but he sleeps in my bed every night. I get nightmares, he keeps them away."

"So what distracts you now?" Nesta didn't seem to be uncomfortable with the topic, nor what Theia had just said.

"I paint with Feyre. I take naps with Nyx in the afternoons, that's why he was here. I think Azriel tried to get me to drink when I first got here, but I'm afraid of who I might become," Theia murmured, tucking her legs higher. She brushed her hair back, mind falling back to Nyx again.

"I was angry, I was mean when I drank. I think Azriel wanted to push you to break so it would be easier to repair you. He mentioned that, not long ago, that he thought you might need something for us to use like they did with me. I think your break will be visiting your mother's grave," Nesta thought, tapping her nails against the skirt of her gown.

Theia felt her breath quicken at the mention of Maia, her eyes burning. Every time she thought of her mother, everything hurt. Theia tore her eyes from Nesta, studying the groove in the wooden floor. After a long while, Nesta rose from the chair and left the room, leaving Theia to dwell in her downfall alone.