It felt as though something sat heavy on her chest. Her breathing felt too shallow, painful almost. People were all around her, but her eyes remained on the High Lord. Theia felt someone walk into her shoulder, making her stumble to the side. She caught herself, dropping her eyes from Rhysand's. There were too many people. Somehow, she had made her way near the dance floor.
Her gaze whipped from face to face, vision blurring as she tried to catch her breath. A blur of darkness swept across above the sea of heads. Her eyes latched, seeing Azriel slipping from the alcove. He was aiming for the dais, where Rhysand was beginning to stand. She heard herself gasp for air, a whimper following when it felt too big. Her hands trembled as she dusted them at her sides and hurried after Azriel. She wanted to hurt him, to kill him. She held no weapon but her rage felt just enough.
"Come to me, my love. Theia, come to me."
Nyx's voice filled her mind, so gentle and sweet. She faltered, but the urge to slit the Shadowsinger's throat was too heavy. Theia shoved past people, glaring at the wings of the male. Finally, she forced her way out of the crowd and followed the stone walls down. The sconces burned bright, making her nearly have tunnel vision for the darkness just beyond.
He seemed to slow his steps. Theia should've known, should've caught the way his head turned slightly, but she was fueled by the need to hurt someone. The moment her footfalls brought her within feet of his wings, Theia launched herself. A growl of frustration tore at her throat when her hands hit his wings. One moment, they were in the crowd. The next, Theia was hitting the cold floor of the sitting room they had arrived in.
"Did you truly think I didn't see you?" Azriel asked. The breath Theia took in was a wheeze, tears of frustration blurring her vision as she brought herself to her feet. She sent herself into his chest, shaking fists slamming into the hard leather. His rough hands caught her, holding her at arm's reach. A sob wracked her chest as she tried to hit him again and again, nails digging into the leather on his arms.
"Why? Why do you all hate me so much?" She shouted, baring her teeth as she swung again.
"I was ordered by my High Lord," Azriel spat. His touch felt bruising and all Theia wanted was to claw at his face. She wanted to hurt them, she wanted to kill them, she wanted to fucking breathe.
She hadn't noticed the two pairs of boots walking into the sitting room. Not until a hand was around her waist, dragging her from Azriel. Theia kicked and screamed out, her throat burning from the sobs. Her chest ached for the air that wouldn't come to her. In another moment, she was sat in the winged chair by the burning fire and another blur was on Azriel.
Theia blinked, her nails digging into her thigh in the strip of absent fabric. It was Nyx. Azriel stood in place, his hands at his sides as Nyx sent his fist into his jaw. He stumbled back a step, but he didn't fight back. He could, easily, yet he didn't. Nyx punched him again, and then caught him by the neck of his leathers.
"Fight me back you fucking coward," Nyx spat, sending another fist into Azriel's jaw. Still, the Shadowsinger did nothing. Theia hiccuped, trying to suck in air between her teeth. Her chest burned and before she knew that she moved, she was now clawing at the skin above her breasts.
"That's enough," Rhysand's stern voice sounded. She could hardly see him as he grabbed Nyx's shoulder. The heir shoved his father back.
"Get the fuck away from me," he snarled. Theia wished she could see him clearly. She wished she could breathe. Nyx sounded feral, primal, a mate protecting a mate. She wasn't that, yet he treated her like she was.
"Nyx, stop it," Rhysand barked, ripping his son from Azriel. Still, the Shadowsinger didn't move.
"Why the fuck won't you fight me back?" Nyx spat. Theia could see that he didn't pull his father's hands from him.
"I know what I deserve," was Azriel's only response. Theia felt her legs tuck up onto the chair. She wasn't sure if she was still crying. She knew she was shaking, she could hear the creaking of the chair.
"Nyx, help your bride and we will speak about this later," Rhysand ordered. Theia saw Nyx move back, stepping back towards her.
"Answer me this, father. Why do this? Why do this when you gave me your blessing? Gave us your blessing?"
"I told Azriel to end it the moment I knew how real it was. Your mother told me of her conversation with Theia. I couldn't help my suspicions after everything that occurred."
Theia couldn't comprehend what she heard. All she knew was that she couldn't breathe and her body hurt. She wanted to rise from the chair and tear their eyes out, tear their tongues from their mouths, but she didn't trust her legs. She didn't know if they were there.
"Everything was real. It is entirely real. Not everyone plays these fucking games like you do," Nyx spat. He was closer now. Theia wanted to reach out but her hands wouldn't move. "I expect to speak to you about this. I expect my mother to know every fucking detail."
There weren't anymore words. Theia wasn't sure there was anything. It was dark, and she thought her lungs had given up on trying to catch breath. And then warmth surrounded her, fingers on her face. She was rocking back and forth, or the chair was?
"I've got you, pretty girl. Breath, Theia. I've got you. I won't let go."
Soft murmurs against her ear. Then, Theia heard herself. It was foolish, ridiculous, entirely embarrassing. She was gasping, struggling to take in air as near moans rattling from her. She blindly felt around, a trembling hand meeting the rough hair on soft skin. A kiss to her wrist, to her palm, a hand over hers. Nyx held her; Nyx rocked her. Theia heard herself sob, wheezing as she finally felt air hit her lungs.
"You're alright. I have you, Theia. I love you. I love you, and I'm so sorry. Breathe for me, my love."
Theia forced herself to focus on his voice. The air she sucked in felt like it was coated in broken glass. She felt guilty for the way her fingers dug into his cheek, but he held her there. He kissed her hair and let his lips linger there. Theia focused on the air she brought in, the shaky exhales.
He held her, she was safe. She still shook, but breathing was easier. Finally, Theia felt her legs, her arms, her face. Her feet moved, and then she pulled her head back. It was then she realized the darkness was from her closed eyes. Peeling them open, Nyx came into view. Her eyes burned so greatly she needed to blink continuously.
"There you are," Nyx whispered, kissing the tip of her nose.
"I hate them," she responded, not recognizing her own voice. It was husky and broken.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Theia. I didn't know. Fuck, I didn't know."
His hand left hers and moved to the back of her head, pulling her into his chest. Theia breathed in the scent of him; pine and spice. Glorious comfort spread through Theia's body. She began to curl inward, as if her mind gravitated to his warmth. The trembling didn't cease, but her hand slipped from his cheek and down to his neck.
"Is that better?" Nyx asked softly, still rocking her. Theia nodded. It wasn't a lie, but nothing was good, nothing was fine. So few things had ever been her own in life, and Nyx was now hers, and they continued to try and take that away. Seduce her away. It felt dirty and wrong, like her mind had been violated. A shiver ran through her.
"I wanted to hurt him."
Nyx's face pressed into her hair. "I did, too. I can hurt him for you. Fuck, at this point, I'll fake my death and we can escape this court. We don't need to take it over, we can run and just be on our own. They won't know where we are, they can't do anything."
Theia lifted her head. His face was so close, their noses brushed. It was only then she realized that he had her cradled into his body. His hand left the back of her head and went to her cheek. His thumb moved in a way that wasn't slow and comforting, but as though he was wiping something away. Theia's hand lifted and she touched her cheek, feeling the sticky wetness.
"We can't run away because they don't like me," Theia murmured. Nyx frowned. Her chest still ached, but now for him. That relationship was beginning to repair itself between him and his father, and then it was severed yet again; because of her. His family was so important to him, and she continued to tear them apart with just her mere presence. Theia couldn't help but think that the Cauldron fated her to live without family, including his. How could she expect him to live like that?
"Theia," Nyx warned, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her frown deepened. "I'm still in that pretty head. I don't want to hear thoughts like that. You are my family, you and whatever children we will bring into this world. You are not the reason for my issues with my father. He made those choices, not you. I will speak with them tomorrow, alright?"
Theia nodded and laid her head to his chest again. It still hurt to breathe but she was able to fully now. Whatever that had been was terrifying. All she had wanted was to hurt them but somehow she had hurt herself. A distant memory drifted across her mind and she glanced down to the split in the fabric. There was dried blood on her skin, and in the moonlight, Theia saw the raw and red crescent marks. They were already healing.
"Come on. Let me undress you and clean you up, then I will hold you until you wake. You'll be safe with me." Theia knew that. She always was. His arms were the only place she felt safe, both mentally and physically. Nyx stood and lowered her feet to the ground. Theia swayed in the tall heeled shoes. Nyx pulled the gown down her shoulders and arms. Theia freed her hands and grasped his shoulders. Within a moment, the gown was pooled on the floor and she was stepping out. Theia stared down at Nyx. He was looking at her in the green undergarments and those shoes. He cleared his throat, eyes flicking up to hers.
"Another day, one that isn't like this, I want you to put this back on for me. Shoes and all," he rasped, hands drifting down her waist. Heat curled low in her belly as she nodded. Nyx smiled softly before working on helping her out of the shoes. Feet flat on the ground, Theia sighed and sat herself on the edge of the bed. After whatever it was that had happened, she felt exhausted.
Nyx disappeared into the bathing chamber. In a moment, he returned in his undershorts and a wet cloth in hand. He dropped to a knee in front of her, cradling her face as he used the cloth to wipe the pigment from her eyes and cheeks. When her skin was clean, the cloth was on the floor and Nyx was lifting her. He laid himself in the bed and had her on top of him. Theia's cheek pressed into his chest, listening to his heart, as his arm looped beneath her wings. One hand cradled her head to his chest, thumb moving slow.
"I love you, Nyx," Theia whispered. She heard his heartbeat quicken. "I love you and I want to marry you despite what they all have done to us. It's you and me, always and forever, right?"
A soft hum left his chest as he pulled her body closer. "Right."