Page 75 of The Heart of Nym (The Twisted Roots Duology #1)

“No.” Aziel shook his head. “I believe that they come back stronger. A newer, angrier version of the thing they were before. Their roots are stronger, too. Instead of merely clinging to the earth for nutrients, the roots start to twist and turn and dig into the soil—demanding what they require, rather than being too afraid to ask for it.”

He wanted to touch her. He wanted to slide the leather shackles off his fingers and trace over every part of her skin that ached and burned with the pain of her past. He wanted her to peel off her clothes, lay herself bare before him, and show him all of the places that he could heal—the darkened parts of her soul that he could decorate with his silver drop of comfort.

There was nothing else he could have done to help her at fifteen.

He was a child. Aziel never wanted to leave her.

He had every intention of staying by her side, but when Camalia saw the way young Aziel looked at the Mystic, she forced Dorid to send him away immediately.

They made him kill people like her—people like him as punishment.

If he'd known the truth of his powers at fifteen, none of this would have had to happen.

He would have killed them all and taken Nymiria as far away from this hell as he possibly could.

Aziel had been killed many times—parts of himself murdered and gutted—but he'd been reborn into this version of himself who was unafraid and willing to go to unfathomable ends to keep her safe.

“I don't want you to see me as someone who deserves pity.

" He confessed, finally breaking the silence.

"None of what has happened was your fault.

We were children. Both of us. The decision I made is not one for you to carry around with you for the rest of your life.

We cannot change what has happened, but we can at least make sure that it doesn't happen again.

The world is changing, Nymiria. And all those who live in darkness will be faced with their reckoning soon enough.

" His fingers curled around a lock of her hair, letting the silken strands slip through his loose grip.

"It could never change the way I look at you.

" His eyes moved to hers immediately, his body going rigid as she moved beside him.

Nymiria wanted him to understand. She wanted him to see that what she felt was the same thing he felt for her.

She knew that he was capable. She didn't see him as weak, but they were both trapped in a reality that they could not escape alone.

Aziel slowly pulled his hand from his glove, letting his bare fingers braid through her own. "What is it that you see when you look at me, moonflower?"

She smirked, that mischievous gleam in her eyes returning. "A fucking god."

Both of them let out a huff of weak laughter, but the darkened mood had finally been lifted, both of them watching one another and wishing to touch—to feel.

It was one thing to hold something, but it was another to appreciate it.

And while everything about him and their circumstances scared the life out of her, Nymiria wanted to appreciate him.

What Desi said in Eadyn, how she shouldn't let the fear of losing something keep her from opening her heart again…

Nymiria wanted to believe that it was possible.

"I do believe that Teigh and Greia must have been drunk out of their minds when they chose us." She muttered. "I don't think any of your sweet words could change my mind on that part. You are an absolute menace and I am emotionally stunted."

"Whoever said that the gods needed to be perfect?" Aziel laughed. "I spent time with Teigh and I can assure you that he was just as much of a menace as I am, if not more. And Greia… well, I don't think she was very fond of me."

Nymiria smirked, nudging him with her elbow. "Another thing she and I have in common."

Aziel turned to her, lips curling into a smirk as he leaned closer to her. "I'd say that the way you sucked my cock says otherwise."

She should have been appalled by what he said, but her whole body seemed to catch fire, her stomach swirling dangerously.

"I wouldn't be celebrating too much—I now know how to coax vital information out of you because of that.

" She stilled. "Speaking of which. Those piercings of yours… what do they mean?"

He was silent for a moment, one hand tracing over the other. "It's a custom in fae culture. Mated males get them as a show of… pride, I suppose."

"Seems rather barbaric." Nymiria chewed at her lip, eyes dipping to the front of his pants. It was shameless, but she didn't really care. It was just them here. "Do you wear them all the time?"

"Now, I do. Before, I would take them out. If I was going to… you know."

"Fuck someone?"

"Gods, Nymiria." He chuckled. "Yes. You're the only one who knows about them. Aside from a few unlucky patrons at a pub who had to watch me piss into a pitcher of ale a few years back."

She jolted forwards, eyes wide. "What?"

"A story for another time."

Nymiria shook her head in disbelief, eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out the complexities of this man.

He never ceased to surprise her. After a moment of laughter, she finally relaxed again, basking in the still silence.

It nagged at her, though. She'd heard of people getting married and political unions, but she'd never heard much about mates.

She didn't know what was expected of them—where any of this would lead.

"What does that mean, then? We're mates, but… what does it entail?" She stammered.

"Whatever you want it to mean." He shrugged.

She hadn't realized that they were holding hands until his thumb brushed over hers.

She looked down at their interlocked fingers and nodded.

"Obviously, by now, you should know that I am proud of it—our bond.

But I'm not going to make you choose me out of some obligation to fate.

As I said before, I'd take crumbs if that was all you were able to give.

" Nymiria moved into his lap at that moment, staring down at the fearful expression on his face.

She'd never seen him look so vulnerable.

Not even when they spoke of Camalia. "It hurts me when you say that you are nothing, Nymiria. Because, to me, you are everything."

She was prepared to close the distance between them, everything that had happened in Dorid's office, everything she read, and everything she learned becoming an afterthought.

It was drowned out by the desire to bring him assurance, to soothe whatever wound inside of him that was aching, to let him know that he was… more.

They were broken apart by the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door.

Low whispers were being exchanged between what Nymiria believed to be two women.

She and Aziel exchanged confused glances before scurrying off the bed and approaching the source.

Aziel did not hesitate to open the door immediately, his sword already drawn and pointed in the direction of one of the women, the tip mere centimeters from a very vital vein.

Nymiria recognized her immediately, a possessive anger filling her chest when she realized it was the woman Aziel had sprawled across the billiards table. The anger only grew when Aziel released a sigh of relief and lowered his blade from Hilla's throat.

"What is it?" He asked lowly, looking between her and the frail blond woman that stood behind her.

The courtesan, Hilla, glanced at Nymiria shyly, like she needed to feel remorse for her presence. "We found the Rune Witch." She stammered. "She believes that she can reverse the magic, but she will need to see the runes first."