Page 56 of The Heart of Nym (The Twisted Roots Duology #1)
He would learn his lesson too late about what it meant to spread the camp secrets.
It was enough comfort for her, in that moment, because her mind kept wandering back to those women seated at the table—used as pretty props that would surely face a horrible fate that night, had Aziel not been the one to orchestrate this entire thing.
She hoped that the people who owned the pub were aware that the women were Mystics.
She hoped that their fates would not be the same as the guards who were still inside, surely planning to defile them by the end of the night.
She curled her hands into fists, eyes focusing on the path that they took through the forest.
The mists were thick again, curling away from their forms as they pressed through them. They were going back to the border, she could tell. Further south than the way she, Desi, and Aziel originally traveled.
Aziel glanced over his shoulder, eyes locking on hers. She felt his warmth, moving along the exposed skin of her back like phantom hands ensuring that everything would be alright.
She believed him.
Before long, they were nearing a large iron fence.
Nymiria could feel the painful hum of the iron in her bones, rousing a feeling of such discomfort that she wrapped her arms around herself.
She shook away the image of people in cages, of mothers and children pressed against those bars—the physical pain of being in contact with the iron an afterthought in comparison to the pain in their hearts. Begging. Pleading.
She hadn't noticed that the guard was gone, leaving them to themselves. It had to have been the iron working against Aziel's magic because that comforting warmth did not slip into her or interfere with the images that were seared into her brain.
"Nym," Aziel whispered. When she didn't respond, he stepped towards her, fingers hooking under her chin until she was looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Moonflower, it is almost time for you to go. Rest assured, Trio and I will do everything we can to save all of them."
It was supposed to be comforting, but her fear had taken over entirely. She couldn't stop the guilt. She couldn't stop any of the emotions that were so strong that her body trembled under their weight. And it was all heavy.
"They're here, aren't they?" Her lips trembled when she spoke, tears spilling down her cheeks. "The ones from my mother's kingdom…"
Aziel nodded slowly, his thumb brushing away the tears. "Some of them are, yes. And tonight, they will go home."
Home.
The word echoed through her body, her eyes wide as she looked at the iron gates once more. "I would like to stay and help." Her words came out rushed, not even giving herself time to believe that she could do this. "I need to help them—"
"No," Aziel whispered, shaking his head. "I will not allow you to torture yourself further. This is not your fault."
"It is!" She gasped through a sob, her body now trembling as she reached out and gripped his sheer tunic, fingers curling into the fabric. Begging. Pleading. Nymiria turned her head away, closing her eyes for just a moment before she spoke again. “I have many regrets.” She began. “And my greatest regret was leaving them all. Not just ten or twenty, but hundreds. The children didn’t deserve it. Those innocent families did not deserve my cowardice.”
“And so you do all of this to punish yourself, I’m sure.”
It was true. This was her own special brand of punishment she’d reserved for herself. Her anguish and her pain was the only way to repay the Seelie for what she’d done.
“You were a child, too, moonflower.” His voice carried an edge of tenderness that had Nymiria gulping in her first breath of fresh air since they approached these bars.
Her heart thundered in response to the hands that were now cupping her chin, drawing her closer to him.
"And I will not allow you to torment yourself with a reality that no fifteen year old girl had the ability to control. "
Shadows spread out all around them, encompassing them in a darkness that had Nymiria pulling away from him, eyes flickering around in the darkness until she saw Trio emerge from their depths.
"Princess," he greeted, smiling as he nodded.
Her lips twitched at the corner, her smile failing to fully take shape when Trio extended his hand in her direction.
"I've been given orders to get you to safety. Would you give me that honor?"
With one quick glance back in Aziel's direction, she felt her heart squeeze. He hadn't stopped looking at her. Hadn't stopped watching her. Even when her hand closed around Trio's and he pulled her into an embrace of complete darkness, she could feel him.
The moment she leaned into Trio's form, the darkness swallowed them completely.
Trio deposited her into Aziel's room in his palace in the Beyond. When Nymiria saw Desi lounging on the settee in the parlor, she couldn't stop herself. She threw her entire body into her friend's embrace. With one smile exchanged with his sister, Trio was vanishing into his shadows again.
The iron only interfered with magic when touched.
The gates did nothing to him when he was inside of them. And by the time Trio returned, Aziel had already unleashed himself in his full form.
Black horns curled out of the top of his head, his hair still black as night.
And with every surge of power that pulsed through his body, the branches of the tree that marked his skin seemed to twist and turn, growing and retracting with each blast of his Grace.
The fungal vines that ripped through the earth were wrapped around guards, piercing through them, ripping through flesh and tearing limbs from their bodies.
Some of the vines merely drank the life from their systems, leaving them bloodless corpses with grey skin—in such a state of decay that they were nearing skeletal.
When the siren blared overhead and the sound of shouts from the entrance tugged at his attention, Aziel smiled the most terrifying smile that the guards had seen.
Trio's shadows tore through some of the men that approached.
And though his shadows were his friend on most days, today they were ruthless killers, fueled with the spirit of a million lives that'd been stolen in greed.
They sought their vengeance one kill at a time—slicing through bodies as if the shadows were made of steel.
Aziel's sights were set on the Warden that'd been seated in front of him at the pub, smiling so wide that the sight of him made a few of the guards faint.
But the Warden stood stock-still, smirking.
"You put on quite a show back there, boy." The Warden sighed. "You bested me."
Aziel merely laughed, his death itching to wrap itself around the Warden's throat and squeeze away what little life remained. "You were never very hard to trick." He snarled.
The Warden only ran his hand over his face, blinking at Aziel with only one good eye.
The other was missing, stabbed and stolen by a fifteen year old boy who tried to save a young girl from a terrible fate.
Aziel would have done worse at the time, but Nymiria, in her state of delusion, still believed that this monster was one of her people and deserved mercy.
Even at fifteen, Aziel knew better. He could recognize the smell of this man anywhere—for he'd smelled him on Nymiria when he found her strung up at the edge of the forest. He was glad she didn't recognize him.
He was glad that she didn't have to relive what Aziel knew had happened to her.
Perhaps she'd blocked the worst of it out.
Still, as the Warden's features shifted and his glamour fell to reveal the fae male underneath, Aziel unleashed his death and gave the disease in front of him the worst one imaginable.
Piece by piece, the flesh was sliced from the man's body, leaving him with only raw muscle and tendon underneath as he crumpled to the ground.
By the end, he was pleading for his life to end—pleading for a death that would not come.
Not yet. If this man was lucky, his body would go into shock and he would die of some other natural cause.
If not…
A loud roar sounded in the distance, the earth shaking with each step that Aziel's precious pet took.
Aziel knew that Tre'ann could smell the blood—the meat. And he knew that he was hungry and ready to feast.