The Dark Heir - Nyx

16. Theia.

Theia thought she would be afraid as she walked up the road to Nyx's house. She thought she'd hide in her bed and let him drag her to Velaris, because who would willingly walk into their death? Theia wasn't afraid, though. In fact, she felt nothing. Even as she lifted her fist to knock, there wasn't a tremor in her hand.

Theia didn't get the chance to knock, because the door swung open. She dropped her hand, looking up at Nyx. Strange how he didn't meet her eyes, but just stepped out onto the porch and shut the door. She looked down, watching his hand reach for her arm before his fingers stilled. Inches from her skin, Nyx waited. Her eyes lifted to his face again. He was staring off towards the falling darkness to the west.

With a sigh, Theia lifted her arm to meet his touch. She expected a bruising grip, something painful that she'd hate him a little more for, but he hardly held her as he winnowed them to Velaris. To her shock, he winnowed them to the bridge, not into the house. Nyx pulled his hand from her arm but made no move to walk. Theia swallowed, her eyes lifting to the side of his face.

"He doesn't know I'm coming, does he?" She asked with a whisper. Nyx's jaw ticked as he shook his head. Theia nodded, looking off to the edge of the bridge. It'd been too long since she was here, and it felt surreal.

"Can I savor this? Just for a moment?" Theia asked him. She expected him to say no, to take her by her arm and drag her to the estate. Once again, Nyx shocked her. He stepped back, away from her, and motioned to the edge of the bridge. Theia let out a shuddering breath as she slowly walked to the railing. The air was warmer in Velaris, snow melted and birds chirping.

The Sidra rushed below her. She leaned forward, breathing in the scent of spring air she never could before. It was the beauty of the birthing season, the time of the year that life was created, was also the time of her death. At least she would get to see a warmer day before her body went cold. That thought had Theia bringing her eyes to the sky.

The sun was bright, a cloudless sky letting its warmth coat her body. Theia felt a tear slip into her hair as she stared up, gaze trailing a small bird as it danced beneath the sun. There was beauty in it, in her death. Theia accepted it, because she had one last demand. She turned, looking at Nyx.

His eyes were already on her, silver lining his eyes. She saw it before he blinked it away, before his throat bobbed and a cold facade was laid over his features.

"I want to be buried beside my mother. I want flowers on my grave. Planted, not cut."

Nyx stared at her a moment, the glisten returning to his eyes as he turned his head to look off into the distance. He cleared his throat before opening his mouth. "Whatever you wish."

"We both know that's not true," Theia murmured, glancing over the river once more before slipping her hand from the railing and starting down the road to the estate. She held her head high, feeling the sting of her single tear long after it dried.

She heard Nyx's footsteps behind her, but she didn't slow. Theia wanted this over with. The house came into view, and it nearly made her legs fall beneath her weight. It hardly changed, save for a new layout of the garden and hedges. It was a choking sensation of nostalgia. Theia remembered so clearly the safety and comfort this estate had brought her so long ago. Now it was nothing but a looming harbinger of her death.

Theia slowed as she neared the steps, her head turning to see Nyx coming up behind her. His eyes were on the house, not her. Never her. She took that moment to study him, noting things she hadn't had time for earlier. On his hip, a sword hung. His hands were gloved as though he didn't want the warmth of her blood to soak his skin.

His eyes made her hesitate. She hadn't noticed them before. On his normally perfect and dark face, his eyes were ringed with red. His face was pale, nearly sickly. That wasn't the face of a male ready to slaughter his enemy, it was a male dreading what came next. That thought almost settled her, but then his eyes shifted to hers. It was an immediate reaction, a feeling as though someone had drove a fist into her gut.