Page 48 of The Heart of Nym (The Twisted Roots Duology #1)

"We should be going." He said gruffly, wincing at the harsh sound of his own voice.

He hadn't realized how silent the forest had become until he spoke.

Nymiria took one final glance at the vines before nodding, a small frown toying with the corner of her mouth as she walked towards him.

"I should have disclosed this with you sooner, but you will need to give the appearance that you've been held against your will.

It was my intention to inform everyone of the Mimics.

A coven of them, somewhere deep in the Divide and away from the new kingdom.

" Nymiria followed along with his words, her fingers mindlessly toying with the pins on his jacket.

"Mimics do tend to live in covens, deep underground.

A tunnel system, of sorts. You'll need to remember that when they question you about your whereabouts.

You won't need to give specific locations, just tell them that they kept you in the dark, tied up, and that all you could see was me pulling you out of a hole. The rest, I will inform them of."

Nymiria glanced down at her clothing. Aside from the little remnants of dirt and leaves sticking to her clothing from where they slept on the ground, she looked rather unscathed.

"Aren't I far too clean to give the appearance that I've been trapped in a tunnel somewhere?

" She hummed, arching her brow curiously.

Aziel turned to her then, stopping them both in their tracks. "Yes. Which leads me to my next statement. We need to rough you up a bit."

Agreeing to his plan was only logical. Despite the innate urge to go against everything he told her to do, Nymiria relented and let him smear dirt on her face and in her hair.

She even took handfuls of dirt and leaves and rubbed them over her arms, legs, and her clothing while Aziel paid attention to making her hair look like a complete and utter disaster.

She couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of her when he dove his fingers into her hair and began tossing it around.

It was odd, really, knowing that she was returning to the place that was the root of all of her nightmares, and laughing about the steps needed to ensure that she wasn't strung up in the middle of the city and stoned to death.

Aziel took a step back and narrowed his eyes as he looked her over. "Can you punch yourself in the face?" He asked.

Nymiria's brow crumpled. "I've never tried."

"Can you?"

She glanced around at the dense forest, at the fog starting to roll in from the other side of the Wander.

They were getting closer to Yaar and anyone could stumble upon them.

If she didn't look the part, it would be entirely questionable.

The people Aziel was protecting deserved a fighting chance—even if it meant having to punch herself a couple of times to divert attention away from the hidden kingdom.

She curled her hand into a fist and with a deep sigh, looked down at the whites of her knuckles. Glancing at him one final time and receiving an expectant look in return, Nymiria closed her eyes and scrunched her face.

Forcing the thought of what she was doing from her mind, Nymiria drove her fist into her face once, twice, three times before falling to the ground and releasing a growl of pain.

"That is one of the stupidest things I have ever done in my life.

" She opened her eyes to see Aziel staring at her with a perplexed expression on his face.

"What? If you want to laugh—go ahead and laugh! "

"I'm just surprised you actually did it."

Nymiria grumbled curses under her breath as she shuffled to her feet, eyes narrowed into a look that could kill. "You asked me to."

Aziel only shrugged and stepped towards her. "One last thing." She prepared to roll her eyes, but upon seeing the gleam of a knife pointed at her brow, she stilled. "Do you trust me?" He asked.

"Not in the slightest."

He smiled, incisors flashing ominously in the haze of the morning sun.

Nymiria shivered. "Good girl. Now close your eyes.

" She did, trying her best to ignore the heat spreading through her at the closeness of their bodies, forcing away the reminders of her dream when his gloved hand curled around the back of her neck and drew her closer, tilting her face up so that he could see her better.

The knife did not hurt at first, it was just a hot line going down the side of her face.

But as soon as he took the blade away from her skin, the metal was replaced with something warm and soft.

Her eyes fluttered open, stomach dropping when she realized that his lips were covering the cut he'd made above her eye.

There was no pain at all. Everything simply felt… warm.

At the feeling of the flush crawling over her skin, Nymiria took a step away from him, brows furrowed as she watched him wipe her blood from his lips.

They stared at one another, neither of them moving until Aziel finally cleared his throat.

Nymiria glanced away, turning to face the remainder of the forest.

"Does it hurt?" He asked.

Nymiria touched the warm liquid spilling down her cheek and shook her head.

Aziel gave a single, curt nod and started walking, his hands clenched at his side. "Good."

With her tattered clothing covered by Aziel’s jacket, blood crusted to her face, and mud caked on her feet, she certainly looked the part of damsel in distress.

Nymiria found it hard to believe that anyone had searched for her, but upon seeing Dorid’s Huntsmen rushing towards them at the edge of the woods, her stomach hollowed out.

They all reached for her, all of them demanding to be the one to escort her to the king, but Aziel refused them all with a vicious growl and a lethal look that had them running with their tails tucked between their legs.

Aziel clutched her closer to his chest, weaving through the throng of servants, guards, Huntsmen, and rangers who had all gathered to get a good look at her—to see with their own eyes that she had, in fact, been taken captive.

They wanted to see her in order to make their own assumptions, to gather their own conclusions.

She did her best to ignore the whispers and the questions, but pretending to be unconscious was becoming increasingly harder the closer they got to the palace.

She could feel the darkened atmosphere shifting around them, the same way it always did when Camalia was near.

Her scent permeated through the grand entrance, her voice akin to that of someone dragging a utensil down a plate.

Nymiria shuddered, peaking out of one eye just enough to see Aziel’s face harden, his gaze undoubtedly locked on the woman who greeted them.

“Put her down.” Camalia snapped.

Aziel stiffened, his grip on her only growing tighter. “She’s unconscious.”

The clacking of heels against the floor made Nymiria’s stomach drop, fear settling into her bones at the thought of Camalia knowing, somehow, that Nymiria hadn’t been held captive by the Mimic at all.

“I didn’t ask you anything about her current state.

I said to put her down. You are not allowed to touch her.

” She bit out quietly, her tone just as sharp as the dagger-like nails she filed relentlessly.

“Need I remind you of our agreement, Aziel?”

Aziel turned his head to the sound of boots entering the foyer, golden helms glistening in the crisp morning sun. His stomach sank, already knowing where they’d take her if he allowed Nymiria to go with them.

A stolen courtesan was not a common occurrence, but it had happened before.

When Aziel was younger, he remembered his mother tending to one of the girls that had been plucked off of the street during her day of freedom.

The courtesan had been viciously attacked, taken against her will in more ways than one.

As if her experience had not been enough to wound her mind, she was thus examined and sterilized immediately.

The sterilization process was not gentle. It was not easy. And the aftermath, living with the thoughts of a future you could never have was the most harrowing part of the healing process.

The anger never went away.

“Dorid’s men will take her to him. Put her down.” Camalia insisted, her impatience evident in the bite of her tongue.

Aziel looked down at Nymiria, his grip nearly bruising. “I believe that we should convene together. There is much to discuss and Nymiria’s experience is rather important for all of us to hear.” He glanced at the guards. “Even them.”

Nymiria listened with bated breath, her fingers tightening on the lapel of Aziel’s jacket. It was taking too long for Camalia to respond and with each second that passed, Nymiria began to feel slightly nauseated.

Finally, once the guards had stopped mere inches away from them, surrounding them, Camalia spoke.

“Fine. I will have them escort you both to the receiving parlor. His majesty is indisposed at the moment.” She paused and Nymiria could feel the heat of Camalia’s gaze, the ire that burned deep in their depths.

She did not need to open her eyes to know that her disgust with Nymiria’s existence was more than evident to all of those in the foyer. “What happened to her head?”

Aziel sighed. “It looks like someone may have cut her.”

That’s the best story he could come up with? Nymiria could have rolled her eyes. Good gods, she wanted to.

“Shame.” Camalia huffed. “A woman’s appearance is her most lethal weapon.

Take them straight to the receiving parlor.

I will retrieve my husband off the ass of whatever bitch he is riding at the moment and be with you shortly.

” Her skirts rustled and her heels clacked against the stone flooring, retreating in the direction of the east wing.

Unfortunately, the smell of her perfumes lingered in the air and the longer both Aziel and Nymiria smelled them, the more their stomachs rolled.

Once her footsteps could no longer be heard, Aziel turned to the guards. “I will see us both to the parlor, you lot hang back a moment—make sure no one followed us out of the forest.”

“But her majesty—“

Aziel clicked his tongue harshly, his chest going taut against her.

“I just rescued her from an entire coven of Mystics. If they haven’t discovered she is missing yet, they will.

And they are like bloodhounds—they can sniff her out.

Now,” he huffed, flicking his head to move the disheveled hair from his eyes. “Watch the fucking tree line.”

The clanking of their golden armor signified their retreat, leaving Aziel and Nymiria to themselves.

She stirred slightly, but his hand tightened on her thigh.

“Not yet, moonflower.” She let out a grumble of something incoherent but that was certainly a curse, bringing a smirk to his face.

The wrinkle between her brows was back, her teeth clenching around each word—all of which were surely filthy and meant to be insults directed at him.

Aziel wove through curious onlookers, schooling his features once again.

By the time they were safe behind the closed doors of the parlor, Nymiria opened her eyes, only to feel herself falling.

She landed roughly onto the settee, a squeal of displeasure knocked from her when her bottom missed the cushions, smacking against the floor. Her head whipped up in Aziel’s direction, eyes narrowed. “A little bit of a warning would have been nice!” She hissed.

Aziel shrugged. “You’re supposed to look disheveled.”

“And throwing me onto the floor was the best way to achieve that?”

Another shrug. Only, this time, it was accompanied with a humorous grin.

“In my defense, you were supposed to land on the settee.” Nymiria groaned in response.

This man was hopeless and all of that attraction she'd had towards him earlier that day was dangling by a very frayed thread. “I don’t see why you’re angry with me.

You were the one who flailed around like a cat being thrown into a tub of water. ”

Nymiria snarled a curse under her breath as she pulled herself up onto the cushions, her lips curling at one side when she lifted her middle finger in front of his face.

“You’d have a lot of experience with throwing cats in water, wouldn’t you?

You look like the type to have drowned a few—absolutely demented. ”

She watched as he lunged in the chair across from her, that smug grin still holding his face hostage.

“I love animals, actually. I have drowned quite a few humans, though.” He picked up a book that was left laying open on the table beside his chair.

“Be a good girl and pretend to be a damsel in distress. Lay back. Look pitiful.”

“You could ask me nicely, you know. I’m sure that nasty attitude of yours has made it easy for you to get your way with everyone else in this kingdom, but I am not everyone else.

I am—“ Before the words could leave her mouth, Aziel’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, his fingers stilling on the seam of the open book.

He tilted his head to one side. “You are… what?”

“Forget I said anything.” She sighed, doing her best to avoid the dark stare that tracked her every move. She curled up into a ball on the velvet cushions, shivering at the memory of Brandt—the Mimic's—hand caressing the inside of her knee in that very same spot only a few nights before.

She closed her eyes, running her fingers over each dip and groove in the fabric, only to startle at the feeling of something warm being placed over her. There was no use in opening her eyes. She already knew by the smell of it, that Aziel had covered her with his jacket once again.

The scent of cherry blossoms on the fabric was enough to make her body slowly relax, even her face had smoothed back to normal—even if she still wanted to stab him.