Page 73 of The Heart of Nym (The Twisted Roots Duology #1)

Nymiria let the journal slip from her grasp and land upon the floor. She did not have the energy in her to think about why the final entry was so short and looked as if it had been written in a rush. All she could think of was what it said—what all of it said.

She was the Anam.

All this time, it had been her.

It had to be.

Nymiria drew in a ragged breath, her brow furrowing at the overflow of emotion that moved through her.

She did not hear the door opening, nor did she notice as Aziel stepped into the room.

There was a ringing in her ears, her heart pounding and sweat forming along her brow.

She lifted herself to her feet slowly, swaying slightly as the room started to tilt.

Aziel saw her double over, rushing to her side immediately, only for her to shove him away.

"Don't—" She gasped, shaking her head back and forth.

"Don't touch me—you can't touch me." His power should still be helping her through these situations, but it seemed as if what had taken over her was stronger than any ounce of magic he could have offered her at the moment.

Shoving past him, Nymiria headed towards her washroom, gripping at her throat as she approached the water basin that was left on the vanity.

Green eyes flashed through her mind, a mixture of memories and warnings, a cacophony of numerous phrases all in his voice filling her mind.

She took the basin into her hands, hoping that the water inside would help open her throat. She couldn't breathe.

She'd speculated for a moment, that day in the Choking Vines, but she'd rid her mind of the thought nearly as soon as it sprang to life.

But there was no excusing all that had happened now—between the pull she felt to the altar in the woods, the dreams, and that moment when those purple and pink flowers bloomed from the vines right in front of her eyes, she could no longer deny it.

And just like everything else, it would be used against her.

"Nymiria, what's wrong?" Aziel asked from the doorway. She didn't turn to look at him. She kept her eyes closed, her hands curled around the wood of the vanity, knuckles white.

Tell him to leave.

"Get out." Nymiria hissed. "Leave me alone, please."

Aziel didn't listen and she was a fool to believe that he would. His concern was evident, but she did not need his concern, she needed him to leave before everything went horribly wrong. "I'm not leaving you like this."

"You should!" She cried. "You should go and run as far away from me as you possibly can.

I don't care what you think exists between us, Aziel, but it cannot happen.

We cannot happen. If we continue this they will—" Her voice broke off the moment the memory flooded her, her hands soaked in red, her naked body stripped and battered…

It whirred through her mind in flashes until, finally, all of those pieces fused together and she saw.

"They're going to make me kill you, too." She whimpered.

Even if she wanted him to go, the moment Aziel's arms closed around her, she felt her body relax. All of those memories still lingered, still haunted her, but instead of ripping her heart out of her chest, those memories just were.

"She'd be a fool to think that I actually loved her." Owen said. "I had a feeling she wasn't as loyal to you as she made you believe. You know how Mystics can be."

A roar of laughter drowned out the beating of her heart and when she looked up to Owen and saw the grim look on his face, she felt like she wanted to disappear.

She was confused. Broken. Her head split open and spilling blood into her eyes, but she could see his face through it all.

And she watched, helplessly, as Dorid slipped Owen's blade from its holster and turned to her.

Everything was a blur of movement from that point on, her whole body shaking in fear as Dorid approached her with Owen's dagger.

That dagger now rested in her hands, her fingers trembling and refusing to take hold of it.

She glanced between Dorid and Owen, watching as they moved towards her and lifted her off of the ground.

She loved him.

She loved him and now all of it meant nothing. She'd never felt the delicate brush of a lover's hand, nor the tenderness of a lover's kiss. She'd never allowed anyone to touch her before—never let them have her body in the way that Owen did. Now it was all tainted with betrayal.

Tears tinted pink with her own blood spilled down her face as she blinked, desperately trying to search Owen's face for a single shred of remorse. But he didn't even look at her.

A sob erupted from her chest, quickly turning to a wet scream when they forced her to grip the dagger. Dorid took a step back, looking between both her and Owen before roughly dragging his hands through his hair. "You have a choice to make, Nymiria. Kill him or kill yourself." He said.

Her knees felt as if they would buckle, but it was only then that Owen finally showed emotion. He looked at her. Finally.

He'd promised her real freedom. He promised her a house in the hills, a garden, and a life full of love and laughter. He'd whispered so many beautiful things into her ear, but now all that she could see and feel was the gaping hole in her chest where her heart once rested peacefully.

"Is this real?" She whispered, chin quivering.

Owen gave her a tender smile, one that sliced and ripped it's way through her chest. "None of this is real." He replied. "None of this is real."

She understood what he meant. It was something that only she would be able to understand, but it was enough of an answer for her to realize what she must do—the decision she had to make.

The first time they'd ever lain together, she'd asked the same question.

He replied that it was all real—that his love for her was not just something ripped from the pages of a book, but that they truly loved one another.

He wanted her to kill him.

And just like the coward she was…

She did.

She plunged that dagger right into his heart and watched every bit of light drain from those beautiful green eyes that'd watched over her, that'd doted over her, for the last seven years. His hand curled around hers, his lips stretching into a broad grin as he looked up at her.

"I don't want you to go." She sobbed.

Owen nodded weakly, his smile faltering as he tried to speak. "You are worth… so… much… more. Your life. My job is done." A tear spilled from the corner of his eye, disappearing into his thick curls. "He'll come back for you."

"Who?"

"Your m—"

His body went limp, his eyes wandering and settling on a place that no one else, but the dead could see. It didn't matter how hard she shook him, how much she prayed, nor how much she screamed, Owen did not reply. He was gone.

She wanted to cling to him. She wanted to fuse herself to his bones and make death drag her to the underworld with him.

Instead, she was lifted from his body and carried away into the deepest parts of the palace—locked away for weeks until they pulled her from the dank pits of the dungeons and forced that dagger into her hand again.

"It's me. The one you've been looking for.

I-I tried to deny it, I tried to make excuses for what was happening, but I can't be the Anam.

" Nymiria gasped. "If your father knows what we are he's going to make me choose!

" The sob that ripped from her chest felt like it tore through all of the bones and muscle that protected her fragile heart.

Even with the crushing weight of Aziel's embrace, she was still falling apart at the seams, her body giving in to the pain and punishment that'd been staved off with Aziel's power. It came back stronger—harsher than she'd ever felt it before. As if the pain was impatiently making up for lost time.

"I won't let him get the chance." Aziel whispered, so close that she could feel the steady pounding of his heart against her back. "You will not let him get the chance. Do you understand me? You are so much smarter than he is, Nymiria. You must use your head."

"I can't."

Aziel clutched her tighter. "You can. Why would you ever think that you couldn't?"

"Owen." She cried. "I had the dagger in my hand to kill anyone I pleased. I could've kill Dorid, I could've killed myself, but I killed him. I'm a coward. I am not a savior and I am certainly not a goddess. I can't be. I'm nothing."

"Don't say that." Aziel pulled her away from the mirror, turning her so that she now faced him. He brushed her tangled mess of hair away from her face and out of her eyes. "The things you were forced to do are not a reflection of who you are, Nymiria."

"I don't know who I am."

Aziel's lips twitched into a sad smile, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had streamed down her face. "I know you. And you are not the monster you believe you are."

Silence fell upon them, the only sounds being Nymiria's raspy breaths and choked sobs. It took a bit of coaxing on his part, but he was finally able to move her to her bed. He sat with her, letting her head rest upon his thigh as her tears dripped and dried onto the fabric of his trousers.

Other than Desi, Nymiria didn’t have many friends.

There were only a handful of people in Yaar that she would say that she could confide in.

Not that she wouldn't have wished for more close relationships, there was always a side of her that wanted to extend herself to those around her, but fear kept her from ever going too far.

Fear of pain, of betrayal. She blamed it on the loneliness that rooted itself into her withering heart, but it was also something beyond explanation—a connection of sorts that made her feel like Aziel was the safest place to rest her burdens and to bare her soul.