Page 77 of The Stars are Dying

“I’m the weakest one here,” I said, thinking that was his observation.

“Strength isn’t only in a physical body,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

“I don’t have much of mind either.” I gave a laugh, but Nyte didn’t lighten up.

“Why do you do that?”

“What?”

“Underestimate yourself.”

I shrugged. “I know what I’m capable of.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I don’t think it’s going to win me any favor here.”

“Is it because ofhim?” A dark chill entered his voice, turning silver notes to black, and I looked at him, trying to figure out the nagging sensation that disrupted my mind. A gravity that pulled me toward a darkness a part of me knew I would devour given half the chance.

“I’m tired,” I said, passing him as I headed to the bedroom.

“Did you love him?”

The question at my back lingered as a concern that had haunted me before. Seconds of silence ticked by. I didn’t owe him an answer, but maybe it wasn’t even for him that I sank so deeply, wanting to figure out the answer for myself.

“Maybe I don’t know what that means,” I said vacantly. I reached behind myself again, straining for the ribbon. My fingers grazed it just as his pulled at it first.

“You do,” he said in husky murmur. “In some depth of your mind, you know exactly what it means to you.”

I pressed a hand to my chest, keeping still with the awareness the laces would loosen with every movement now. My neck inclined a fraction at his touch of my collar. He was tracing the unruly scar.

“I don’t know how many more times I can see this without knowing who is walking on borrowed time,” he mumbled darkly.

“I don’t have a name. Or a face,” I added quietly. I turned to him, losing my breath for a second at those molten eyes boring down on me before I found the imperfection on his right side. “What about you?”

I wondered if this rise like acid within me was similar to what he felt as I stared at his long scar, refraining from the desire to trail my fingers over it as though that might unlock my answer.

Nyte diverted softly. “Were you happy with him?”

I didn’t like the switch of conversation. That he would evade my question and continue prodding at something he had no right to know the answer to.

I put a step of distance between us. “Why do you care?”

“I’m merely curious.”

“Yes, I was.”

It slipped from me as a means of silencing him. And it worked, though Nyte’s silence was always that of a carefully collecting storm.

Life with Hektor had been somewhat like that. For years I’d thought his kindness was true. When my voice was gripped it was to protect me. My tether to him had a limit, and it was to save me. Then I’d learned the same hand could give the softest touch and the harshest warning.

Anger touched me, consumed me, in waves through my body, and I hadn’t felt so hot before. It didn’t belong to me…

I glanced at the bed when an air of loneliness swept in. Not a single wrinkle disturbed the sheets. No trace that Nyte had ever been here at all.

24

The prince imposed his company on me much sooner than I’d hoped. As I headed to the final summons of the king, Drystan fell into step beside me, and Zathrian fell back a couple in reluctance. He talked about the most mundane things. I found out the prince was glad for long winters and found the nights peaceful. Small things I could relate to, yet I found myself wanting to deny our common desires. I didn’t want to know these personal things about him if it would shorten the distance between strangers, edging me closer into his waiting trap.

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