Page 42 of Nyx
“Cut the bullshit. Why did you react like that?”
“You should ask him.”
“I’m askingyou.”
Xeni hesitates as he glances at where Nyx is curled up on the bed in my blanket. He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment before he sighs. “There’s nothing in here.”
“He doesn’t need much,” I say, my voice sharp and the protective nature of my words clear. “There isn’t anything wrong with that.”
“No, there isn’t, except…” He trails off again, and the fiery anger from earlier flares hot in my belly.
“Exceptwhat?”
Xeni’s gaze finds mine, and the sadness there is crushing. “The bed. The table. It’s… it’s how his cell was arranged.”
Utter, all-encompassing devastation.
It splits my chest wide open, exposing my heart and stabbing through the pounding organ. A quiet sound that’s full of heartbreak leaves my throat, and I turn to look at Nyx asleep on the wooden-framed bed. It’s suddenly replaced by a hard cot, and the open, airy room turns into a cell with no windows and a barred door.
He’s recreated his prison.
Lives in it daily.
He never left.
“Fuck,” I curse in a broken, watery whisper, and Xeni grunts his agreement.
“What can you tell me about his condition?” He slides his bag off his shoulder as he approaches Nyx, and I close the door behind us as I force myself to snap out of it. In time, we’ll deal with the past’s demons, but right now, we need to focus on the present.
“Um, he, uh…” I start, then angrily swipe the tears from my eyes with a deep inhale. “He was in the same place we were at… before. An overlook at the top of the hill. I’m, uh… I’m pretty sure he’d been there since I left with Taryn and Lillith.”
Xeni frowns as he crouches beside the bed, pressing his ear against Nyx’s chest and listening for a long stretch. He digs in his bag and pulls out a tiny flashlight, lifting Nyx’s lid and shining it over his eye before swapping to the other side to do the same thing. “He was unresponsive when you found him?”
“Covered in vines,” I admit, and Xeni’s frown deepens. “It’s like they were trying to protect him. He was curled up on the ground, almost as if he were asleep. He woke up… sort of… as I was carrying him back and said something, but it was in the old language and I didn’t understand.”
Xeni hums low in his throat. “Could you try to repeat it?”
“No, the rain was too loud, and I was too…” I trail off, but he nods his understanding.
Xeni continues examining Nyx in silence. He inspects the glowing mark across his knuckles, then gives the scars on the back of his biceps the same attention. His thumbis dragging over the inside of Nyx’s elbow when he asks, “How much has he told you about his past?”
My face heats, feeling wholly inadequate. “He doesn’t talk about it much, and I don’t push him.”
Xeni nods absently, then glances over his shoulder at me. “Go put on some dry clothes.”
“I’m not leaving,” I argue.
“Reyes, you can’t take care of him if you don’t take care of yourself. I’ll sit with him until you get back.” The command in his tone tells me he won’t stand down on this, and a frustrated growl leaves me as I snatch my fresh t-shirt and shorts from the ground where I dropped them.
I refuse to go further than around the corner to the kitchen as I shed my wet clothes and step into the new ones. As I change, my gaze snags on the collection of dishes piled on the counter. They’re clean, and stacked neatly, but they’ve been accumulating for a while. Another punch of regret hits my gut.
How fucking little have I noticed?
How much has Nyx been holding in?
A lump builds in my throat, and I force a swallow to clear it. I place my wet clothes in the sink to keep them from dripping on the floor, then return to the bed.
“What’s wrong with him?” The words come out as a quiet plea, and Xeni finally rises from his squatting position. He’s tall, nearly as tall as Ronan if you count the twisted horns that push from his head, but far thinner. Xeni carries himself with a softness and grace that make him far less imposing.
