Nyktos stood in front of the closed doors, and dressed as he was in a loose, untucked white shirt and black breeches, he reminded me of…Ash. Rugged and still unearthly. A sense of wild brimming beneath the veneer of calm.
But he was Nyktos now. Not Ash. He’d never be Ash to me again.
“I’m thinking about a lot of things,” I admitted. And there was a lot to think about: Kolis. His creations. What he wanted. Nyktos. What he’d done to himself. Ezra and her marriage to Marisol and seizing the Crown. Me. The knowledge that I’d inadvertently caused my stepfather’s death. What was to come. Holland. What he’d shared before leaving.
Nyktos eyed me as he walked past the empty bookshelves along the wall. I wondered if there had ever been items on those shelves. Keepsakes. Mementos. He sat on the edge of the settee, his gaze never leaving me. It was odd to be in a position where I was standing over him.
“I cannot imagine what must be going on in your head,” he said finally. “But you went from anger…to sadness. Tangy, bitter sorrow.”
Shoulders tensing, I glared at him. “Don’t read my emotions.”
“It’s hard not to. You project a lot,” he reminded me. “And often. You were really projecting in the throne room.”
“Sounds like you need to figure out how to block them then.”
A ghost of a half-smile appeared but vanished quickly, and my heart seized again as I thought of what he’d done.
“When did you have this…kardiaremoved?” I asked.
“A while ago.”
I eyed him. “Exactly what do you consider a while?”
“A while,” he repeated.
“That’s evasive.”
“It’s more like it doesn’t matter when I had it done. Just that I did.”
I stared at him, unsure why he was being so cagey about it. “No one else knows? Just Maia?”
He nodded. “Only she and Nektas know. Neither will speak a word of it.”
I’d never met the Primal Goddess, but based on how close Nektas and Nyktos were, I didn’t doubt the draken would stay silent on such a thing. “Did it hurt? And don’t say it was barely an inconvenience. Obviously, that’s not true.”
Nyktos was silent for several moments. “Thekardiais just a tiny part of the soul. Intangible. You would think that something unseen couldn’t cause much pain, but it felt like my entire chest had been cracked open, and my heart dug out by a dakkai’s claws and teeth,” he stated dispassionately. “I nearly lost consciousness, and if I had been weak, I likely would’ve slipped into stasis—the deep sleep of the gods and Primals.”
Horrified, I pressed my fist to my chest. “Why did you do it?” I asked, even though I already knew.
“I saw what the loss of love did to my father, and what love turned my uncle into,” he said. “And I refused to repeat either of those mistakes or endanger another because of what I felt for them.”
A knot lodged in my throat, and it took a moment for me to speak around it. “I’m sorry.”
He stretched his neck from one side to the other. “You shouldn’t be. I care more because I cannot love, and I believe caring for others is far more important than loving just one.”
“You… You are right,” I whispered. In a way, caring and kindness were purer without love. But I was still saddened. Shouldn’t everyone have the chance to feel love for another, whatever it felt like?
Except Kolis.
Or Tavius.
Neither of them deserved that.
“What was Holland speaking to you about?” Nyktos asked.
“Nothing important.” There was no way I would repeat any of that. I glanced at the desk as I rubbed my wrists, still not feeling the charm. A slender lamp cast a glow over the bare surface. Several moments ticked by, and I could feel his gaze on me—watching and likely seeing too much. “What are we going to do?”
“That’s a loaded question,” he remarked, exhaling deeply. “We’ll continue as planned. In the meantime, I’m positive there will be guests.”