Page 32 of Nyx
“Ronan, you know I love you, but I’m with Reyes on this one. You aren’t the lord reigning over his subjects here. If he wants to take a trip, he has every right, and if others want to join him, that’s their decision. Not yours.”
They glare at each other for another long minute before Ronan’s shoulder slump, and Elas finally releases us both. Ronan pushes his fingers through his hair, but the motion is helpless, not angry. “They feel like my responsibility,” he says after a pause.
“Everyone knows what you’ve done for us here,” I say cautiously, and when his eyes meet mine, the anger has dissipated. “What youdo. Without you and Cameron, none of us would be here now. But thishasto be a democracy. You can’t take away people’s choices and expect things to work, or you risk turning this place into the same one you left. You’re a good guy, Ronan. Don’t let your fear change that.”
The rising indignation at my words fizzles out, and Ronan seems to deflate as Elas watches. He’s cautious, ready to jump in and pull his best friend off me if needed. Ronan’s hand shoots up to scrub over his face, and he groans a quiet curse into his palm. “Is that what you think I’m doing here?”
“No,” I insist, and he drops his hands with a deep breath. “No. We all see how much you care, even if you’ll never admit it to some of us.” A tiny grin lifts the corner of his mouth, and Elas chuckles. “And I get it. Cameron is here, and his safety is your biggest concern. This wholefight wasn’t about my leaving. It was about what happens if someone sees me and follows me back.”
Ronan slumps against the tree behind him and tilts his face up towards the sky. He looks so vulnerable in that moment, with his eyes closed and the stress lines in his forehead erased by the glow of the afternoon sun. “He lost everything at this very village because someone was careless. It was sheer luck that he wasn’t here when we attacked. If someone were to discover this place, and it were to happen again? If I couldn’t protect him?” His voice is thick with emotion so potent it causes my throat to swell. “Ican’tlose him.”
“I’ll be careful. You aren’t the only one with something to lose here, Ronan.” His eyes snap to mine, and I silently challenge him to object, but after a stretch he nods again. He says nothing, never offers his approval or acceptance of my plan, but his silent concession is enough.
Nyx
Boomerang’searsliftasplit second before mine, and the crunch of grass tells me who approaches. Ronan’s cadence is swift and confident, while Elas’s is meandering, like he’s never in a hurry. This one is cautious and careful. Sweet smells chase his presence like they so often do—a touch of honey and this magical peanut butter he likes to feed me.
My katsurrel.
“Nyx?” Reyes calls, and I sit tall from where I’m reclining on the sunbaked rocks to watch as he walks closer. His damp curls have created a ring of wet fabric around the collar of his shirt, and his mouth curves into a smile when he spots me.
Something has changed between us. The barrier that used to guard my heart, that kept me from giving in to these feelings, was cracked at my confession of wanting to know him… of wanting him to know me. But when I acted onit by going to him? It was obliterated, and now I don't know what to do with everything I feel.
Twice more we’ve gone to collect the eggs, and it’s comfortable. I’ve always been nervous around others, but not Reyes. He feels safe. After we get back from our walks, I’m too scared to ask him to stay. I want him to, though. My heart has always beat harder when he’s near, but now, it knocks against my chest until I’m dizzy.
Is this ridiculous?
He told me he thinks I am beautiful. Could he ever find me as captivating as I find him?
“There you are,” he whispers, and a rush of emotion washes over me at those three words. They speak of this familiarity—the comfort his nearness has always brought me, even before I knew him.
Part of me feels like I’ve known him my whole life.
“Hi,” I whisper back, and his smile turns radiant.
“Are you hungry? There were only a couple of muffins left, so I grabbed two before Elas or Lillith raided the kitchen.” I nod and pat the rock beside me. He comes closer, smelling like delicious food and clean soap, along with something deeper and uniquely him, like the scent of the air after a heavy rain.
“This is for you,” he says as he hands me a muffin, and I accept it with a quiet thanks. I take a big bite, closing my eyes as the flavors dance over my tongue. A lifetime of bland food means my taste buds are more sensitive, and I enjoy every new delicious thing he brings me. Even if I didn’t like it, I would pretend I did just to make him happy. He is so proud to make something that brings methis much pleasure, and in return, I am proud to cause his smile.
But this recipe is my favorite, and there’s nothing fake about my joy. He chuckles, and when I open one eye, he’s eating his muffin and staring off into the trees.
We eat in relative silence, but he shows his nerves in subtle ways. Reyes and I often sit without speaking, but it’s never uneasy like this. His shoulders are stiff, and his fingers tighten and loosen as they fidget with his shorts. Eye contact is fleeting, and he glances away quickly when it happens. I wonder if I’ve done something to upset him… unknowingly crossed a line, or made a mistake that I don’t understand.
I wonder if I’ve gotten it all wrong.
He takes the last bite of his food and dusts the crumbs from his hands, still with that uncertainty about him. I’m gathering my courage, convincing myself to ask, when he turns to me.
“Do you want to take a walk?” he asks, and I try again to decipher his guardedness. When I can’t find any answers in his expression, I give in and agree with a nod.
We move from the rocks to the small pathway, where our frequent trips out here have created an opening in the plants. Soon we’re past the higher traffic areas, and the underbrush becomes lush. We have to dodge the twisted roots that poke from the ground and weave between dense tree trunks. The trickle of the creek fades, and the birds grow louder.
It’s clear Reyes wants to say something. He bites his lip and takes deep breaths as if he’s preparing to speak, but never does. As we get deeper into the forest with noset destination, a star-shaped leaf catches my eye on the ground.
“Maple,” he says as I pick it up and twirl it in my fingers. He watches me with a smile, but there’s still so much conflict in his eyes. He gestures up at the canopy of leaves, then walks over and pats a gnarled trunk. “The name of the tree. We should come out one day and mark them so we can tap them.”
“Tap?” I ask as I trace my fingers along the deep ridges of the bark.
Reyes chuckles, some of his tension dissipating as he grins at me. “They have a liquid inside them called sap, and it’s very sweet. If you cook it over the fire long enough, it turns into syrup like the bottles Cameron has locked away.”
