Page 52 of The Heart of Nym (The Twisted Roots Duology #1)

No, they'd never taken her to their beds. But they may as well have. As many times as she'd been groped and grabbed and backed into corners, her mind and her body sold in exchange for deals and deaths, she was no better than a common whore.

The truth hurt.

Everything hurt, but Aziel's magic, even this far from the Beyond, was fighting as hard as it could against the bitter chill in her heart.

Nymiria wept, her tears spilling onto the vines, cascading over the moonflowers, and spilling onto the earth. With each tear that fell, a new tendril of green sprung from the earth below. But Nymiria's heart and eyes were too busy focused on every way she'd failed for her to notice.

The moment the sun rose through the milky glass of her window, casting that same peculiar gray light onto the chair she'd fallen asleep in, Nymiria shoved her rage with Aziel away.

He was only trying to help her, just as she'd asked him to.

Instead, she chose to focus it on the very people that'd been set to destroy her from the moment she was born.

Camalia and Dorid.

If anyone deserved her anger, it was them. And of all of the people in that kingdom that'd wronged her, none of them deserved to die by the point of her blade more than the king and queen. She'd made up her mind—she'd waited enough.

After contemplating her situation and how she could have her dreams come alive at the tips of her fingers, Nymiria slipped out of her rooms and walked towards Aziel's door.

It seemed to be of sheer instinct that her fingers brushed over the place his palms had rested so defeatedly against the wood, but the moment the image of his glare entered her mind, she curled her fingers away and reached for the knob.

Unlocked. Surprisingly.

A small triumphant smile took over her face before she glanced over her shoulder one final time and entered into Aziel's rooms.

She was greeted by the scent of cherry blossoms again, mingling with the stale scent of yellowed pages and leather.

Books were piled in nearly every corner, some in boxes and some out of them.

The linens on his bed were a shade of purple so dark that they were nearly black—the blankets crumpled and tossed about the bed as if he'd only just roused from a horrible slumber.

Nymiria sighed, eyes turning to the crows that were perched just outside of his window. Loyal servants of his, she presumed. Especially for someone who exuded the essence of death the way he did.

She followed the the direction of the crows' eyes, moving slowly across the floor so as not to disturb the birds, nor signify that she'd even gone into that room. Being caught walking so fearlessly in the rooms of a man other than Oran would get her smacked again. Or lashings—probably the lashings.

The floorboard creaked.

Blindly, she reached for the fifth book in the pile and jerked it loose, watching with wide eyes as the tower of books leaned and swayed.

Once the books began steadying themselves, she let out the breath she'd been holding and ran, nearly tumbling into her own belongings as her feet slid across the floor and skidded to a stop.

Her legs were shaking and her heart was pounding, but being safe in the comfort of her own space allowed her a moment of triumph.

Cursing the lack of grip on her slippers, she rushed over to her desk, drawing in a deep breath before she looked down at the book in her hands and smiled.

She figured that he would have something like this.

What odd man did not collect oddities? And for him to have shelf upon shelf of banned books in his home back in the Beyond, she only assumed that he'd have some here.

There was something she found quite charming in his blatant disregard to following rules. Even if it meant his safety.

Nymiria settled into the chair nearest the desk, thumbing through the frayed yellow pages and humming with delight as she crossed each entry.

Hours must have passed since she'd sequestered herself to her rooms. Rain ticked and tapped against the thin panes of her window, cascading down them like teardrops from the heavens, setting the mood for the words written on each page of the text.

She felt hopeless.

According to all that she'd read thus far, she'd learned that rune-work was some of the most binding of all magics, very rarely able to be broken depending upon the force behind the intent of the spell-caster and the overall power of the witch.

She didn't know Camalia's level of skill in witchcraft, but she saw the evidence of it nearly every single day.

No matter how strongly Nymiria wished to access some of her more complex powers, she never could and she suffered severely for it.

It took her four years to learn that lesson, but even though she'd stifled the desire to call on her powers, the memory of the pain along her spine was enough to make her want to forget she had any magic inside of her entirely. Until recently.

Since Aziel had returned from his mission overseas and throughout Gaellagh, Nymiria had felt that calling again—that sensuous purr of her magic rumbling inside of her, like a lover whispering sweet-nothings into the ear of their partner and begging to be touched and embraced.

She'd felt it first that day he'd cornered her in the garden, so viciously that it terrified her at first.

But now, with this anger burning deep in the depths of her soul, she wanted to touch her magic just as badly as it wanted to be used by her.

"I need your help.”

Nymiria gasped, her book fumbling from her hands as she lurched to her feet.

Aziel let out a soft chuckle as he threw himself onto her settee.

He crossed one long leg over the other. “Have you absolutely no manners?” She snapped, charging forward to swipe his legs off of the velvet. “You could have knocked.”

“What? And take all of the fun out of sneaking around?” Aziel frowned.

She scoffed. “We are not sneaking around, you little forest demon.”

“Right,” he drawled. “We most certainly are not sneaking around, but we work together and have to meet in secret. We also absolutely cannot be seen conversing with one another unless my poor, needle-dicked father allows it. Which, mind you, would be never.”

He had a point. As much as she hated to admit it. “What do you want?” She folded her arms over her chest, leaning against the post of her bed as she watched him pluck an apple from her fruit bowl. “That’s for guests.”

He raised a single brow. “Am I not a guest?”

“You’re a nuisance!” She snapped. “Now tell me what you need me for so I can continue with my…” the thought of the stolen book of spells on the floor had her cheeks heating, her brow furrowed with refusal to admit her own indiscretions.

She was a courtesan, a killer, but admitting to thievery was something that she absolutely refused to do.

“Your… what?” Aziel pressed. It was a subtle flicker of her eyes that had him looking down at the book on the floor.

Nymiria wanted to throw herself in front of the book and guard it with her life, but one move would admit that she was worried about what he would discover—that she'd intentionally and foolishly stolen from him.

His stoic expression bloomed into a wicked smile. Nymiria knew that she was done for. “Aziel—"

“Witchcraft For The Enraged—" Aziel’s reading was cut short by the force of a pillow smacking into his face. Nymiria stood her ground, despite the venomous look he was now shooting in her direction.

“Give it back.” She demanded.

“Witchcraft,” Aziel clicked his tongue, letting the pages flutter before snapping the book shut and placing it on the table, completely disregarding her request. "It seems we have a little thief in our midst. And witchcraft, on top of that…

moonflower, dear, you are practically sending yourself to slaughter. "

“I didn't steal it, I borrowed it. There is a difference, you know?"

"Not if you take it without asking." He chuckled. "Why do you need to know about witchcraft?"

At the mere question, Nymiria felt the runes in her back start to ache. She hadn't felt them in years, but the thought of anyone other than Desi, Dorid, and Camalia knowing they were there felt like they were already on full display. "You wouldn't understand—"

"Try me." Aziel rose to his feet, his face changing as if there was something about her that made this game of torture less fun for him.

She could never tell what was going to happen next when it came to him, his moods were always quick to change.

One moment, they would be arguing and the next, he would be looking at her like this. Like she was… something.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Her hands subconsciously went to her hair, tugging at a lock of it to see that it was still the same golden blond she’d glamoured that morning. “What is it?”

There was something about him that was almost sad.

But as quickly as she was able to touch his emotions and feel how they felt against her own, it was gone, replaced with a cold seriousness.

Aziel took a small step back and finally turned away.

“I have already made arrangements with Desi. Today is your day of freedom and Desi has asked Oran if you could come with her to visit a friend on the outskirts of the city. It will be an all-day affair. She has clothes for you in her bag. It’s nothing fancy, but it will help you blend in.

The guards of the Gillian Mystic Camp have been invited to attend a card game that is couples only. ”

“Couples only?” She repeated.

Aziel frowned. “Yes. Therefore, tonight, you and I will be a couple. Freshly married and hailing from Caddagh's capital.”

“Why me?” Her voice rose with exasperation, her brow furrowing as she followed his movements back to the settee. “You have thousands of women to choose from in this city, why must it be me? I said that I would help you find Greia's heir, not go on secret missions with you.”

“Because you are the only other person in this city that can glamour yourself if things go awry. And I do recall you lying about not knowing how to play cards. And while, yes, I originally asked for your help with the heir, I do feel like this could help."

"How?"

He shrugged. "She could be there." Nymiria deflated.

While she believed he was giving a horrible excuse, she was also a woman of her word.

She would help him. Seeing her complacency, Aziel smirked and took a bite of the apple he'd been eyeing since he walked in, juices spilling over the swell of his bottom lip and onto his chin.

Nymiria swallowed, averting her eyes… elsewhere.

"I should also add that we are not going as Aziel and Nymiria, we are going as Dreygan and Saikal.”

“Did you come up with those names?” She scoffed.

His brows drew together at the center, his irritation evident. “What if I did?”

Nymiria crossed her arms over her chest, sauntering towards him with a cheeky grin. “I’d say you are just as ostentatious as everyone else here.”

“We’re supposed to be foreigners.”

“Why not just choose something simple and easy to remember like Lydia and Bert?”

“I am not going to go by Bert.” To say that he looked offended would be an understatement.

She knew he liked to hold himself to a certain standard, but Dreygan was borderline ridiculous.

“We are using the names that I have picked.” He straightened his jacket, his silver hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at the small wrinkle in his sleeve.

Nymiria chuckled. “So touchy.”

Aziel only hummed in response, his fingers brushing over the lettering stamped into the leather cover of the book. "Are you in need of a witch?"

The question had her dumbfounded, her mouth floundering for a moment before she offered a shrug. "Do you know any?"

He nodded, thumping the cover twice before picking it up and tucking it under his arm. "I know a few of them, actually, each varying in different areas of expertise. What are you needing help with so urgently that you had to steal from me?"

Nymiria swallowed down her hateful remark, biting the inside of her cheek to school the twisted and angry expression threatening to take over her face. He was offering his help. She needed to be kind in return. "Runes. Ones meant to contain something powerful." She sighed.

There was a beat of silence between them, Aziel's eyes once again flickering with that same unreadable melancholy as before.

"I will see what information I can get for you.

In the meantime," he was striding past her now, glancing down only as their shoulders brushed.

"If you need anything of mine, I'd highly consider that you ask first. You may stumble upon something you didn't want to see.

" His eyes hovered on her lips, the heat in her body blooming in response to his gaze.

"I'll give you anything you want if you ask nicely, moonflower. "