Page 93 of Nyx
Ronan’s face softens, and Nyx makes a quiet sound from behind me. He hasn’t said a word through the entire exchange, only listened as he holds on to my shirt, smoothing the fabric between his thumb and pointer finger. “Tostarve…” he starts, then shakes his head. “To be that hungry. It hurts.”
Matuk stares at him as if he’s just noticing him, and his throat works in a swallow. “Do you know any of these people?” I ask Nyx, and he nods as his eyes move over them.
“Not names, but faces, yes. Matuk was…” He trails off, then turns towards Xeni. “Like you. Sad eyes.”
“Did he ever hurt you?” Nyx considers my question, and I’m relieved that he’s taking the time to think about it instead of blurting out what he thinks we want to hear. After a stretch, he shakes his head.
“I did not hurt them,” Matuk says, eyes back on the ground, “but I did not help. I did nothing.”
“Sometimes nothing is all we have,” Nyx says, before tilting his eyes to mine. “We can help them.”
“Help them how?” Ronan snarls, the budding sympathy wiped from his face.
“We have food. Room.”
“We cannot trust them,” Ronan counters.
“Youcannot trust them,” Nyx responds, and Ronan’s brows shoot up to his hairline at the snap back. “You are not the boss.”
“For fuck’s sake, Nyx. You sound like August right now.”
“Good,” Nyx says as he wrinkles his nose. “August is nicer than you.” Ronan’s hands fly out and squeeze like he’s imagining choking someone, and I tuck Nyx a little closer into my side.
Just in case.
“It could be beneficial to both sides,” Xeni says, mirroring my thoughts as Ronan’s wrath turns to him. “They have information, and we have resources. We’ll be safer in greater numbers, Ronan. You know that.”
“Not if we can’ttrustthem,” Ronan stresses again. “We cannot invite them into our home. I will not risk Cameron’s safety for your bleeding hearts.”
“What could we do to prove ourselves?” Matuk asks, and his eyes are desperate. “The others… they aren’t well. Sickly and hungry. We are in danger in this tiny camp, but we have nowhere else to go.”
Ronan chews on his lip for a long time before glancing around at the three of us. “We do nothing right now. I refuse to be impulsive, and everyone else gets a vote in this. We are not the only ones affected by this decision.”
“That’s fair,” I say, and Xeni nods his agreement.
Ronan turns to Matuk, who watches him warily. “We have a village a day’s drive from here. It’s safe, and we have food supplies and fresh water.” A spark of hope ignites in Matuk’s eyes, but he doesn’t interrupt. “We will go home and discuss this with the rest of our people.Ifthey agree—and make a fucking note here that this is a big if—we will return here in a week’s time.”
“And if you don’t come back?” Audra asks, crossing her arms and picking at her shirt in the first sign of nerves she’s shown since she arrived.
“Then I wish you all the best of luck.”
Nyx
Eventhoughit’sapproachingdinnertime, Ronan insists we pack up and leave. Despite my instincts and Xeni’s insistence, he doesn’t trust easily, and he thinks we’re too exposed to stay. They have our location now, and if their whole crew came, we’d be outnumbered.
Xeni shares a steady stream of information about the scientists, answering Ronan’s many questions as we drive. He’s known Sprocket the longest. They worked together for seven years before he was assigned to the Glaston base, and he describes her as chatty and a bit of an over-sharer. Someone who likes to tinker, and whose barracks was filled with scrap parts and tools because she would experiment even in her hours off duty.
Aryn transferred in later, but Xeni says he’s more serious. Quieter, with his nose in a book most of the time. There is no history of violence—“As far as you know,” Ronan is sure to interject—and neither of them chose the assignment. They were sent to Ljómur because they weresome of the brightest minds in their fields and weren’t given a say in the decision.
The two of them bicker in the front seat, and I sigh, leaning into Reyes to drown out the noise of their arguing. He puts his arm around me and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Are you doing okay? A lot has happened in the last day.”
I nod, resting my hand on his stomach and absentmindedly rubbing his shirt. “It was hard, being there. Hard feeling the rift and seeing my old cage.”
“Hard seeing me kill someone?” His voice is quiet, and I tilt my head up to find him watching me with those careful eyes.
“No. That part was easy.”
He swallows and nods, reaching to brush my hair behind my ear. His fingertip tickles the pointed end, which makes me smile. “Is it wrong that I have no guilt about it? If you say he was a terrible person, I believe it. I don’t regret killing him.”
