The Heir of Night

55

"Theia, I know why you do not want to wear these dresses, but that is the reason we are going there. I have a duty to attend to, but you are going to simply experience the environment. Wearing this will feed into it. You'll have a dagger, you will be under the eye of Az, Cass, Mor, and Nesta. They will all be able to keep you safe. Just put the dress on and we will settle the cosmetics."

Theia continued to stare at Feyre a long moment, the frustration from her argument with Nyx feeding into the anger she felt now. She wanted to argue, wanted to scream how wrong it all was, but she had agreed to this. With a huff of a breath, Theia turned and stared at the dresses. She grabbed the most concealed one, though it was hardly much.

The sound of a drawer opening had her head whipping around. Feyre was digging through her undergarments, crouched down and humming to herself. She gathered a black fabric and tossed it to Theia before turning to a painting and crossing her arms. Theia frowned and began pulling her clothes off, leaving them in a pile.

She pulled on the thin black fabric and then stepped into the bodice of the dress, grunting as she pulled it over her growing body. Finally, it sat at her breasts and flowed over her body, the back beneath her wings an open corset. Feyre walked up behind her and began tightening the ribbons, making Theia hiss when the boning of the dress bit at her skin.

"I know, I hated wearing this, too. Over time, I began to feel powerful. I was able to wear whatever I wanted because everyone knew that if their hands touched me, I would be the one to tear them off," Feyre thought aloud. Theia could hear the pride in her voice.

"They don't think that of me," Theia responded, turning her head to look into the mirror. She felt so childish beside this female. Only two decades older than herself, Feyre still managed to hold a lifetime of experience under her skin. Theia often forgot how young the High Lady was, seeing that nearly everyone else seemed to be centuries older than her.

Her eyes roamed the dress, the skirt showing her skin beneath, save for the fabric on her hips. Her breasts felt suffocated, looking larger than ever before with the boning of the corset dress. If Theia forgot about the situation she'd be going into in just hours, she felt quite beautiful. It was more skin than she had ever shown other people, except for Nyx. Her eyes dropped to the floor at the thought of his name.

"Stunning. Come, let's go to the bathing chamber," Feyre grinned, combing back Theia's hair with her fingers. Theia gave a nod and followed the High Lady into the hall. Her fingers grazed her thighs as she walked, eyes falling closed in long blinks as she fell into her nerves for the night. Her life had gone so wrong so often, and now she was walking into a den of hungry beasts that would tear her apart so easily. Theia glanced up at the ceiling, praying to the Mother for something to go right.

"Sit at the vanity," Feyre instructed as they walked into the bathing chamber. Theia did as she was told, looking at herself in the mirror. Every time she saw herself this close, it was a stranger looking back. Everything about her new life was still so foreign, even the way weight added to her cheeks and her eyes seemed more alive.

Feyre got to work immediately, brushing back Theia's hair and pulling out pigments and brushes. By the time the High Lady finished, Theia couldn't recognize herself at all. Dark color surrounded her eyes, lips as red as Feyre's. It was nothing like what she had done for herself the night Nyx brought her to Rita's.

"Done," Feyre beamed, eyes roaming the artwork she had done on Theia's face. "I know you're not happy about tonight, but you look beautiful. Just enjoy the wine, the dancing, and the food."

Theia gave a nod, unable to tear her eyes from herself. Feyre bid her goodbye with a quick kiss to the top of Theia's head, leaving her alone in the bathing chamber. She studied herself, nearly wishing that Nyx would see her before they had to leave. With a sigh, she pushed back the chair and aimed for her bedroom.

Her wish had been answered, because Nyx was sat at the edge of her bed when Theia returned. When she walked in, he stood abruptly. His eyes covered every inch of her, and she couldn't help but do the same to him. Her beautiful, stunning lover; dressed in a fitted black suit, hair brushed back, a crown atop it. Her throat tightened, hands clenching around the fabric of her skirt.

Nyx looked every bit like the High Lord he would become. His jaw set tight, piercing eyes now boring into her own. His power seemed to emanate from him, something she had never had the chance to witness. She couldn't breathe, not under the gaze of a male like him. He was no male, was no breed of fae. Theia looked at him like he was a god that the mortals would worship; fall to their knees and sob at his ethereal beauty.

"Theia," he finally spoke in a breath. One ring clad hand rose from his pocket, outstretching slightly. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Her lips parted with uneven breath as she stepped forward and let him take her hand. Nyx stepped closer, ever so carefully lifting his hand to her jaw, glancing between her eyes as his thumb hovered over her cheek. The tension ran thick, coating her throat as she tried to think of anything to say.

"I'm sorry," Theia finally spoke. Nyx's brows dropped down.

"What could you possibly be apologizing for?" He asked, finally letting his thumb stroke her cheek.

"I attacked you about caring for the females in the village. You were concerned for your mother, as simple as that, and I should've understood. I'm sorry for being so hostile. I should've accepted what you had said, but I just didn't understand," she spoke so quickly, like the words had broken a seal at the base of her throat. Nyx shook his head slowly.

"I should be apologizing. I threw it in your face that your mother is gone. I got angry, and I'm still learning to understand how to navigate it. I'm so stupid, Theia. I will be the right person for you, I just need you to be patient with me," he responded, leaning down to brush his lips over hers. Theia lifted her chin, eager to feel his kiss, but he let them press to the corner of her mouth instead.

"We both have a lot we still need to learn. We just need to be patient with each other," Theia agreed, voice hoarse. Nyx hummed, kissing the other side of her lips.

"Arrogance comes easy at our age. I've never loved anyone, not like I love you, and we will learn how to do it right, together."

Theia nodded, her eyes falling closed as her breath shuddered. Nyx hummed again, running his thumb over her cheek before straightening. Theia opened her eyes, blinking up at the male who'd carefully carved her heart from her chest. She prayed he stored it in a safe place.

"Now, my father will tear us apart if we are any later. Let me put your dagger on your leg, you put your shoes on, and we will go."

The anxiety she had felt just moments before melted away. Nyx had a habit of stealing her worries, and she hoped he would keep them until the night was over.