“That’s a strange thing to expect from someone you don’t consider a friend,” I murmured.
Nyktos snorted.
I nibbled on my lip, telling myself to stay quiet, but I had to know. “You have friends.”
“Sera—”
“Denying that you do doesn’t change the fact that people care about you. Nor does it change that you care for them. It’s okay to have friends.” I could practically feel his gaze drilling into me. “But I’m sorry that you had to kill another.”
Nyktos was quiet.
“You wouldn’t have had to do it if he hadn’t seen me,” I admitted.
“It would’ve inevitably happened.”
Was that the true, foregone conclusion? That there would be more death? If it came to war among the Primals, it would be.
“And you’re wrong,” he said. “It’s not okay to care for others when it gets them tortured or killed.”
My fingers tightened around the stem of my glass as I thought of what he’d said in the bathing chamber that afternoon. All of those vast reasons behind why he couldn’t afford for me to be a distraction. “Kolis?”
Nyktos didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He stared at me, and after a moment, he nodded again.
“Nektas said…he said that you’ve been able to convince Kolis that you are loyal to him.”
“I have.”
“Then why does he treat you like this?” I asked, unable to believe that Kolis was simply punishing Nyktos for actions he believed were nothing more than Nyktos testing limits. “Is it because of your father?”
“Probably. But it’s not that much different than how he is with other Primals who actually are loyal to him. One way or another, they fall in and out of favor with him as quickly as you go through clean clothing.”
I huffed out a laugh, but I wished he’d told the truth. Instinct told me that while Kolis was likely cruel to others, it was different with Nyktos. That while his treatment of Nyktos may have originally stemmed from his father, it had to be more than that. That it connected with how Attes claimed that Nyktos was Kolis’s favorite.
He was quiet for several moments. “The other night? When I came into your bedchamber?”
“Yes?” I somehow resisted the urge to taunt him with what he’d done, and I was, in fact, rather proud of myself for doing so.
“I…I would’ve come earlier,” he said. “But there was an issue at the Pillars.”
“That’s why you left with Rhahar?” I asked, not letting myself focus on what had come before that. He nodded. “Was it souls that needed your judgment?”
“Not this time. It was souls who refused to cross.”
“Does that happen often?”
“Far more than you’d think.” He sighed. “More and more souls are refusing to cross and are entering the Dying Woods instead. It gets the ones already there stirred up.”
“The Shades can’t be fun to deal with.”
“As you know, they’re not.” His fingers quietly tapped the side of his glass. “The moment the souls refuse to cross and enter the woods, they become Shades. Nektas believes that’s it for them. They’re lost and should be destroyed. Immediately. And I know I should. None has ever come back from that. But I think…what if one does? What if? There should still be a chance for them to either face justice or receive redemption. But once they’re destroyed, that’s it. There are no more chances.”
Wetness gathered in my eyes as I blew out a shaky breath. Knowing he didn’t like to kill the Shades twisted my heart, especially since my actions had led him to do just that. Him wanting to give them another chance was yet another sign of how good he was. And, gods, he deserved better than this life. One that wouldn’t allow him to be close or affectionate with another because he feared those emotions would bring harm to them. In reality, it wasn’t even a life. I knew that more than anyone. He simply existed, and that wasn’t fair.
“I hope your plan works.”
A dark eyebrow rose. “Is it because you’re finally thinking of a future that doesn’t involve your death?”
“No.”
“Of course, not,” he muttered.
“It’s clear that you should be the true Primal of Life,” I explained. “Not because it was your destiny, but because you’re good.”
A faint smile appeared, but it didn’t warm his features like the ones before had. “That’s where you’re wrong. I told you before. I have one kind, decent bone in my body, Sera. But I am not good, and you would do well to remember that.”
Chapter 21
My heart turned over heavily, but I believed in what I’d said. “What makes you think you’re not good?”
“I have…done things, Sera.”
“Like killing out of necessity or by force?”
Nyktos said nothing as his unflinching stare settled on me.
“Or is it because you started to enjoy killing those who’d summoned you out of a desire to harm another?” I continued. “None of that changes that you’re inherently good, Nyktos.”
The line of his jaw tensed. “And how would you know? What life experiences could give you that sort of insight when you’re a mostly mortal who is only on the cusp of living twenty-one years?”
I arched a brow. “I know because I’m sitting here alive when many, including everyone from your guards to gods and mortals alike, would’ve killed me when they learned of what I’d planned.”
His gaze sharpened on me.
“And, yes, those embers in me are important enough to keep me alive, but those embers don’t mean you have to be kind. You could’ve thrown me in a dungeon.”
“That’s still an option,” he remarked, pouring wine into his glass and then mine.
“If you were going to do that, you would’ve by now instead of fearing you’re trying to control me. All you’ve proven is what I’m saying.” I picked up the refilled glass, toasting him.
He put the bottle aside. “All you’ve proven is what I’ve told you before. That one decent and kind bone I have in me belongs to you.”
A worrying degree of satisfaction rushed through me, as did the urge to demand that he prove that. That the decent and kind bone really belonged to me and only me.
“But do not mistake my handling of you as a reflection of who and what I am,” he added, taking a drink.
“Your…handling of me isn’t the only reason I know you’re good,” I countered. “You didn’t want to enjoy those killings, and you stepped away before it could change you. I know because you feel the marks those deaths left behind, and you carry them on your skin. I know because despite not having the ability to love, you are still kind and care deeply—more than most.”
He smirked, looking away. “You don’t know what you think you do.”
“I know because I’m not good.”
Nyktos’s gaze shot to mine. “You think you’re not good because of what you planned?”
I let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, that is just a drop in a very deep, messed-up bucket full of many more drops.”
The eather brightened in his eyes. “And what are those other drops?”
“You’ll find out if your plan doesn’t work. You’ll get to see my soul upon my death. It’s not black. It’s red, drenched in the blood of those I’ve killed. Lives I’ve taken that haven’t left behind the marks you speak of.” The embers in my chest vibrated. “I don’t feel them. Not like you do. Sure, I may experience some remorse, but it never lasts. I felt the same as I did when I shoved that whip down Tavius’s throat—”