Nyktos’s plans will work.I repeated that over and over until that dread retreated. I cleared my throat, focusing on the fact that Nyktos wasn’t irritated by the risky trip. He could’ve been, and, at the very least, he could’ve pointed out that it had been unnecessary.
Gods knew I probably would have.
Which made me feel like I had more of my mother in me than I wanted to acknowledge. I squirmed a little.
“What are you thinking about?” Nyktos asked, his fingers stopping at my hip.
I turned my gaze to the ceiling. “Did I project?”
“You did.” He paused. “I tasted tartness and…something sour.”
My brows rose. “Not sure what that translates into.”
“Confusion,” he answered. “And shame.”
“Nice,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat. “You must often find yourself with bad tastes in your mouth.”
“Sometimes.” His hand curled around my hip. “You going to tell me what you were thinking about?”
“Do I have to?”
He chuckled. “No.”
My lips pursed. “Do you want me to?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t, but I’m sure you already know that.”
I did.
“I was…thinking about my mother.”
Nyktos shifted closer so his chest touched my arm and one of his legs brushed mine. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Same.” I sighed.
His fingers left my hip, going to where several curls were tangled together on my arm. He set about unraveling them. “Was it what I said to her?”
“Good gods, no.” My gaze shot to his. “I wish I could relive that moment over and over: her just staring at you, open-mouthed as we walked away.”
A faint grin appeared. “But I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut. She’s your mother. Yours to deal with.”
“But I…I don’t want to deal with her. I realized that today. That’s why I didn’t, you know, engage with her. Mainly because I just knew she would piss me off. But also because I…” My brows snapped together. “Because I just don’t care. My confusion or shame or whatever you were picking up on had to do with thinking that parts of me are like her. And I…I don’t like that.”
“I think all of us have parts of us that are like our parents, but that doesn’t mean wearethem.”
“True,” I murmured, wondering what my father was like for the millionth time.
“And the not-caring part? It’s not necessarily a bad thing.” He curled one finger around a strand of hair. “Just because someone shares the same bloodline as you doesn’t mean theydeserve your time or thoughts.”
“You’re right.” My gaze swept over his features. “You, more than anyone, would understand that.”
Nyktos’s fingers stilled around the curl. “Yeah. I would,” he said, the sudden flatness of the sentence alarming me. “And that’s why neither of us is going to spend another moment thinking about those we’re unfortunately related to.”
He rolled his large body onto mine then, and within seconds, I wasn’t thinking about anything but him and the way he kissed. And how he used his mouth and tongue. His fingers and his cock. He chased away those other thoughts.
Even the dread that clung like a shadow and haunted like a ghost.
Hair still damp, I threaded the strands into a braid as I walked with Ector to Nyktos’s office the following morning. According to what Orphine had shared as I ate my breakfast, I was to meet the Primal there when ready. Since the trip to the Vale wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow, I hoped that Nyktos was fulfilling another of my demands.