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“Okay.” I sighed.
Those unnerving red eyes latched onto mine. “Is it truly your choice? You can say no. No one here will make you do it, nor would we hold it against you.”
I had no idea if anyone would hold it against me—they had far bigger things to use in that way. I could say no, but if Nyktos had never discovered the truth, I would’ve offered myself. And, deep down, I knew it had nothing to do with the deal. It would’ve been because I didn’t want him to hurt.
“It’s my choice,” I said, looking up at Nektas. “I’ll try. I’m sure I’ll say something that will anger him.”
Nektas smiled.
“Are you sure about this?” Rhain asked. “She came here to kill him.”
“He brought her here,” Nektas corrected swiftly, surprising me. Though, I wasn’t sure what that changed. “Do you have a better idea?”
Rhain glanced at me. “No.” A pause. “What if he kills her?”
“Well,” Ector drawled as he walked past me. “Then I guess we don’t have to worry about her trying to kill him.”
“I’m not going to try to kill him,” I snapped.
“Now,” Ector tacked on.
“Come.” Nektas motioned for me to follow him, and I got moving, shooting Ector a narrow-eyed glare.
Saion gave me a thumbs-up as we walked past him. “Thoughts and many prayers.”
I didn’t even dignify that with a response. I followed Nektas to the back stairwell, my heart surprisingly calm. We started up the stairs when I asked, “Is Orphine okay?”
“She will be,” he said, and that was all we said until we neared the floor.
“I’m kind of surprised you suggested this,” I admitted. “What if he’s mad at you?”
“He told me to put you somewhere safe.” Nektas opened the door and held it for me. “That is what I’m doing.”
My brows pinched as I walked through. Nektas stopped in front of the door to my bedchamber. “He won’t answer if you knock, but I am sure the door between your chambers is unlocked.”
I stared at my door. “You really think this will work? Maybe he’s too mad to do it.”
“Let me ask you a question.” Nektas waited until my gaze met his. “Would you have followed through if you never learned that killing him would not have saved your people?”
I opened my mouth. The word yes slithered up my throat, but it didn’t go any further than that. It wouldn’t go past my tongue because I didn’t know if I would have. I couldn’t say yes.
“That’s why,” Nektas said, pushing open the door. “I think he knows that, too.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, nor could I dwell on the realization of what I’d admitted and what it meant. I walked into my room, my gaze immediately landing on the door to his bedchamber. I didn’t waste time just in case some small inkling of common sense invaded me. I only stopped long enough to toe off my boots and stockings. A fine mist of dakkai blood coated them, and I didn’t want to track it through the chambers. I went to the door between our rooms and turned the knob.
Nektas was right. It was unlocked.
A faint shiver curled down my spine as the door cracked open, revealing a short, narrow passageway and an empty, dimly lit bedchamber beyond. My heart was still calm as I closed the door behind me and I crept forward, the stone floors cold under my feet. I entered the bedchamber that smelled of citrus, and as I suspected, it was empty except for the necessities. A large bed and some bedside tables. A wardrobe and a few chests. A table with one chair. A long settee. That was all.
The steadiness in my chest faltered as my gaze shifted to the halfway-open door on the other side of the bedchamber. I caught a glimpse of a porcelain tub. I moved deeper into the cavern-like space, my throat drying as I saw Nyktos in the bathing chamber.
He stood in front of the vanity, wearing only unbuttoned breeches that hung low on his hips, grasping the rim of the sink with white-knuckled fingers. He dragged a damp towel across his bloodied chest, his teeth bared as he hissed in a pained breath. The wounds would’ve been fatal for a mortal, significant and shocking. And the fact that he seemed unaware of my presence told me exactly how weakened he was. For a moment, I could only stare at the shimmering blood coursing down the defined lines of his stomach. How was he still standing?
“Nyktos,” I whispered.
He froze at the sink, head bowed. The blood-soaked towel stopped moving across his chest. Slowly, he lifted his head and looked over at me. Knots formed in my stomach. There was a paleness there that hadn’t been before, settling into his skin. The glow behind his pupils was fainter than I’d ever seen it.
