Page 28 of The Heart of Nym (The Twisted Roots Duology #1)

She wanted to blurt it out. She wanted the truth to be known.

There were only three people in this kingdom that knew her true identity and one of them was buried merely twenty feet away from where they sat.

It was a rage she couldn’t explain—knowing there was more for her than this world somewhere.

It ran through her veins, it was her everything.

From the time that she could walk, she’d worn a crown on her head.

She wore it every single day until it was taken from her, stolen away by her own people.

You can still lead, Nymiria. The voice was in her ears, hot with the seductive allure of power.

“I’m a courtesan, Oran.” She shrugged. “And life is not fair. We are to play each card we are dealt and that is just the way the world works.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t.” Their eyes met. Her heart quickened, her chest flaring with the heat of her anger. Oran’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, emotions sliding to a look of worry. She didn't like it—he shouldn't worry about her. He shouldn't care.

Nymiria reached for another piece of bread, jolting slightly when Oran’s hand closed over her own. “I am sorry, Nymiria.” By the sternness of his tone, Nymiria stilled, slowly slipping her hand out from underneath his.

A hollow feeling settled in her stomach, a sort of fear she recognized all too well, one that made her palms sweat and her stomach churn. “Oran, why are you being nice to me?” She asked.

He blinked in confusion, his forehead forming a single wrinkle as he looked over her. “I enjoy your company.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean,” she began, eyes focusing on a lone bird circling over the spires of the castle. “If you’re doing this because you want me to sleep with you, just know that you could take me to your bed any time you want. It’s my duty—“

“Is that what you want—for me to treat you like the others?” Oran questioned.

She could sense his frustration as she watched his jaw quiver under clenched force.

She shook her head again. “I don't see you that way.

" His shoulders relaxed the moment the words left his mouth, like he'd been carrying this secret with him for years.

"I care about you, Nymiria. Not in a way that will get you into trouble with my father, but in the way that a brother might…

care for a sister. There is something connecting us to one another.

I don't know what it is, but it is the strongest pull to someone I have ever felt.

And I don't want to ruin that with you by having you fulfill your duties. "

"Please," Nymiria whispered, shaking her head.

"You don't have to say these things to save my feelings.

" She could feel tears burning in her eyes, a swell of emotion building in her throat.

Aside from Desi, there weren't many people who cared for her like this.

There were so many reasons why she knew she shouldn't have gotten close to him.

Those around her, those she loved most, always seemed to vanish or die.

That thought, alone, was enough to force bile into her throat. Oran saw her panic, saw her emotions and went still. "Nymiria, are you alright?"

Death. There was always so much fucking death.

The sound of a cough drew their attention to the treeline behind them.

They both turned. Nymiria wished she could hide her emotions—her face was still red and her eyes were still wet with the remnants of tears.

She wished that her vulnerability was not showing at all because Aziel did not deserve to see it, but he already had and the shame that came with knowing he'd seen her fear made her want to kill him.

Even when she turned her head away from him to shield her face, she could still feel his gaze on her.

She could feel the cold radiating from him, an anger almost.

"Hope I'm not interrupting something." Aziel said, his voice laced with a sharp edge.

"You are." Oran nearly growled. Nymiria sneaked a look in his direction, assessing the hard lines of his face.

Aziel merely chuckled, the crackling of leather causing chills to run down her spine. She did her best to mask them, her hand balling into a fist. "You seem to have a special talent in upsetting women, brother."

"This is none of your business." Oran was now on his feet, standing between Nymiria and Aziel. Guarding her. "And she is not upset. She's fine."

"Doesn't seem like that from where I'm standing." Aziel's voice was as cold as steel. At the sound of his ire, Nymiria's brow furrowed, her head turning to peer at her target. Their eyes met instantly.

I'm not fine. She wanted to say it. She wanted someone to know that none of this was alright—that she wasn't fine and that she hadn't been fine in ten years.

Her heart sped up to an alarming rate, her breaths becoming sharper to the point that they were starting to hurt.

Without thinking, she leapt to her feet and started running.

Ignoring Oran's worried calls, ignoring the sound of boots thumping behind her in a stride that nearly matched her own, she darted into the forest.

Whatever light had touched her out on the lawn was gone now, giving way to the darkness of the Wander.

She allowed her glamour to fall, wincing at the prickling feeling of her false skin peeling away to reveal her true form.

But it was easier this way. Her vision was better, her senses sharper, and her joints didn't feel the restrictive tightness that they did in her human form.

She breathed the freedom of her form into her lungs, closing her eyes at the feeling of the wind caressing her true skin.

The footsteps behind her were getting closer, but it didn't matter.

The burn of the tears in her eyes and the scream lodged in her throat were too much of a distraction for her to focus on much else.

She hadn't felt this aching in so long, this painful pull that drove her back in the direction of her past.

And though the day of her capture was one she liked to forget, she still remembered every bend and curve of the journey that brought her here.

She could still feel the rocking of the wagon, the deep throb of iron against her skin.

She remembered those unwavering eyes watching her as she cried and begged for her pain to be taken away.

She remembered moonflowers.

With an enraged scream, Nymiria collapsed onto the stones below her feet, her hands bracing her fall before her head could smack against the ground.

Her fingers fisted the dirt between the intricately placed river stones, weaving into the soil and pulling at the energy that came from the earth.

The desire to pull it into her soul was overwhelming—a thirst so strong that she could think of nothing else.

If she could only conjure her Grace, the earth would swallow him up.

Keep him from getting too close. But that didn't happen.

No matter how desperately she wanted it, Greia did not grant her her wish.

"Of all places." Aziel huffed from behind her, his footsteps still just as loud as they were before.

Only now, his pace was slower—languid and fluid, like the graceful stride of a predator hunting prey.

Nymiria crawled into the spiral of stones, one hand slipping into the pocket of her gown to retrieve the tiortha, but strong arms were suddenly wrapping around her waist, hoisting her to her feet.

Another scream ripped from her throat, her hands clawing at the leather gloves that clutched at her, her legs kicking out and thrashing, begging to connect with any solid object that could overthrow him.

She bucked wildly, tears spilling down her cheeks as his mouth grazed over the shell of her pointed ear.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He breathed. "But I do need you to calm down."

"Go away." She snarled, his hold loosening just enough for her to spin around. It was a natural instinct for her to lash out, her leg flying out to kick at the vulnerable place between his legs. His fingers gripped her ankle, halting her movements entirely.

"We're not doing that." Aziel smiled. "Though I may deserve it, I need to talk to you."

"I don't want you near me."

His smile didn't slip, but his fingers relaxed around her ankle, letting it fall back to the ground before he turned and looked at the spiral of stones on the forest floor. "It's understandable, truly." He shrugged. "Happiness is not an emotion my presence invokes in people very often."

Nymiria watched as he brushed dirt from his perfectly tailored suit, straightening the barely-noticeable wrinkles their little spat had created.

When their eyes met, Aziel let his hands fall to his side.

"Why did you follow me?" She shoved hair out of her face, eyes still following him as he approached the pedestal at the center of the small labyrinth.

"Wrong question." He sighed, plucking the small flower that had been left on the pedestal. "Try again."

"I'm not playing games with you, Aziel."

"Good, because I'm not playing games with you either, Nymiria.

" Her brow drew together, her hands twitching with the desire to grab her dagger and end it all here.

The only conclusion she could come to about him hunting her down was that he'd somehow found out about Dorid's plans for him.

He was going to kill her. Probably. "I already told you why I'm here.

I just want to know if you know why you are here. "

"Because it is my right."

He kicked his head to one side. "A right bestowed unto you by my father?"