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 thosevast reasonsbehind 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 howgoodhe 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?”