Nyx (Mate's Mark Book 3), page 2
A lifetime of hunger means I don’t always notice its insistent anger. When we first arrived, days would pass without me eating anything, simply because I forgot it was an option. The others stay on top of it and make sure I’m looking after myself, overbearing as they might be sometimes.
They care.
I know they care.
I just don’t know how to handle their concern.
Memories of family and laughter, of being loved, are so very far away. They’re random flashes of light and color, muted feelings that have mostly been lost to time. I often wonder if I’m the only one of my kind on this side of the veil. We were peaceful and stayed out of the politics and military happenings. No one else would’ve crossed.
Would opening the rifts and going home do anything to fill this emptiness inside me? Find my people, return to my roots?
Or is that, too, something time has erased?
“Nyx?” Ronan asks with more force, and I wonder how many times he’s said my name.
“We can work in the outside today?” The idea of being trapped within closed walls is suddenly too much to handle. Too familiar.
“Yeah, we can do that,” he says quietly. “Is there anywhere specific you want to sit?”
My gaze drifts through the maze of trunks towards the grassy knoll beyond the garden. When this village was built, the trees were cleared for the solar panels, and the sun shines happily into the clearing. We work there often, and as I gesture in that direction, Ronan nods his understanding.
He doesn’t understand why I choose that spot, though.
Water trickles along my forearm as I wring my hair out once more. My fingers rake through the dripping strands, and I wince at the stinging resistance of knots that never seem to go away. I give up and tuck it behind my ears as I glance down at my damp clothes. Most of what I wear belonged to Cameron or came from the salvageable items we found inside the village, but all of it is too big.
My eyes move to Ronan, standing with his arms crossed in his white t-shirt and dark blue shorts. Muscles strain against the fabric, strong and battle-tested and healthy.
Not frail, like mine, drowning behind clothes meant for someone else.
“Are you ready?” he asks, and I lick my lips, glancing again through the trees. I nod, and we walk along the short path. The grass is comforting against my feet until the others come into view. Everyone else is wearing shoes, where I prefer to go without.
It’s one more way we are different.
One more way I am strange.
“Nyx?” Ronan asks when I change directions, choosing to walk the longer path through the forest instead of passing through the village. The shade cloaks me amidst the green as an urgent need to become invisible grips me.
Once again, I want to become nothing.
“Better way,” I murmur, and after a moment’s hesitation, he follows in silence. I trudge through the underbrush, fighting this undying urge to disappear.
Reyes
“What are these?” Lillith asks, and I lift a few leaves to show her the cluster of green growing underneath. “Oh, I love tomatoes! What about those?” Her curiosity has me chuckling as we walk over to a plant lower on the ground. Giant thick-stemmed leaves drape along the soil, and I brush one aside and give her a peek at the yellow gourd.
“Squash and zucchini,” I say as I check a few of the larger fruits. They aren’t ready to harvest, though we’re bursting at the seams to have fresh food. These shouldn’t even be this big yet, easily double the length I’d expect at this stage. The leaves are greener, and the bounty more plentiful than I’ve ever seen, and I don’t think it has anything to do with the weather.
Something tells me the garden has a midnight visitor that’s helping the process.
Movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention, and Nyx appears from the forest like my thoughts summoned him. My breath hitches at the sight of him, and my hands fall uselessly to my sides as I stare. Light shines off the green hues of his skin and hair, exploding into an entire spectrum as it radiates from him. Hunter green and moss, emerald and sage, and every single color in between.
Nyx slowly turns his head in my direction as though he feels my attention. Those bright eyes meet mine and flare, but he jerks away as his long hair curtains his face.
I wish he wouldn’t hide.
The world needs more beauty in it, and Nyx is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Reyes!” Lillith barks, and I whip around, my eyes growing large. “You never answered me! What do you make with squash and zucchini?”
“Oh, um, well, they’re not very good raw. I normally sauté or grill them. Cooking them is definitely better, although I bet Ronan could make a few loaves of zucchini bread.”
“Vegetable bread?” Her lips pull back into a thoughtful grimace. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Zucchini bread is delicious. It’s sweet. We don’t have any sugar, but I found some stevia in the woods.”
“What is that?”
“It’s a plant with leaves that are sweet, kind of like sugar. I transferred a couple into pots, but I’ve never grown it. If they don’t do well, maybe we could convince Cameron to give up some of his hoarded honey to make it.”
“Hey, Ronan!” Lillith bellows, and I jump again and clutch my chest. Her roaring voice would startle anyone, but after so many years alone, it damn near induces a heart attack. “Ronan!! Can you make us some vegetable honey bread?”
Ronan has joined Nyx on the hill, and even from this distance, I see the confused pinch of his brows. His mouth opens and closes again, and I snicker at his confusion. “What?” he finally calls back.
“Zucchini bread,” I yell with a wince, trying to find a volume where Ronan can still hear me without scaring Nyx. “She wants zucchini bread.”
“Zucchini bread?” Cameron gasps from behind me, and I turn as he darts to the fence with wide, manic eyes.
Ronan’s expression melts from bewildered exasperation to determined, and I bite back my smile. For all the flashing of his fangs and grumbling, he’s a giant softie for his mate. “You want zucchini bread, mo’sziv?”
“Can you make it?” Cameron asks, bouncing on his toes. Ronan nods, a pleased smirk pulling onto his lips, but my gaze snags on Nyx beyond him. That gorgeous waist-length hair still covers his eyes, and he shuffles between his bare feet.
I wish I knew how to help him be more comfortable here. He’s as flighty as an injured bird, eyeing the sky like he’s yearning to fly. Forever poised to escape.
Everyone says to be patient and allow him space, and I am. I do. But unless we’re forced to interact, he keeps his distance. I’m no closer to knowing him than I was the day we met.
I thought we were getting somewhere when Elas and August were leaving. He let me approach, allowed me to comfort him when the others couldn’t, and damn, if that wasn’t a high. Katsurrel… the word rings through my head far too often, and always in his soft, breathy voice. That special name he gave the flower, and the one that means curls if Ronan is to be believed.
I want to believe him.
Nyx decided on it while looking at my hair, after all. It means something… it has to mean something. He didn't just take his flower—his katsurrel—but planted it right outside his cottage, and even went out that same night to collect more to plant beside it.
Not that I watch him at night, even if my bedroom window happens to point towards his cottage. That would be creepy, and not socially acceptable in the least, which is an important thing for me to consider.
Everyone already thinks I’m weird for living underground for so many years. Elas lovingly refers to me as Mole Man sometimes… At least, I think it’s lovingly. He smiles when he says it, in any case. But he also smiles when he brawls, so really, that’s probably not the best standard.
Regardless, I don’t need to fuel their fire by admitting to staring out my window at night, wondering if I’ll glimpse Nyx in the moonlight.
The fleeting smile he offered me that day is burned into my memory, and I’m becoming desperate for more. But it seems the more I want to be near him, the further he stays away.
And above all else, I will respect his wishes.
“What other kinds of bread can you make with vegetables?” Lillith asks me, pulling me from my head and forcing my attention back on her.
“Oh, uh… with what we have here, that’s probably it.” Distractedly, I glance around at the garden. Corn and pole beans take up a third of the area, working together to let the vines climb the thicker stalks of the corn as the beans search for sunlight.
Another large span is dedicated to wheat and soybeans, and the rest is rows of smaller plants. Tomatoes, squash, and zucchini occupy a lot of the space, because they grow well in the hot climate, but there’s also okra, kale, collards, a few types of lettuce, eggplant, and a vast assortment of peppers. Bell peppers, jalapenos, anchos, and even a few spicier varieties I’m not sure anyone but me will eat.
Well, that’s not true, actually. Elas will eat them. That fucker eats anything.
Root vegetables are planted closer to the forest, where they get some shade. Potatoes, yams, onions, and carrots form rows with their leafy green tops. I’m crossing my fingers I’m able to pull off the potatoes. Typically, they don’t grow well in this heat, but Cameron is counting on me to figure it out.
Pots are sprinkled around the perimeter of the garden, housing herbs that can be brought inside if the weather requires it. Basil, oregano, lavender, and mint I found in the forest join the stevia plant.
“How could you forget cornbread?” Cameron demands from his spot at the fence, and Lillith’s eyes brighten.
“What are you, some sort of bread aficionado?” I ask, trying and failing to hide my grin. “Like, is this a weird kink with you and Ronan?”
“First, kudos for the good word. That level of vocabulary only comes from a man looking to prove he’s better than everyone, and that tracks.” He grins as I glare, narrowing my eyes. “Second, don’t kink shame.”
“I’m not kink shaming, man, but I’m definitely kink asking why.”
He snickers as he glances over to where Ronan and Nyx have settled onto the hill. Ronan leans against a tree while Nyx sits cross-legged, his knees barely sticking out from the shorts that are several sizes too big.
“When Ronan found me in the prison, he brought a loaf of bread to feed me while we talked. Bread was a luxury, you know? Something I hadn’t had in years because I was always on the run.” Not wanting to interrupt, I only nod. It’s rare for Cameron to talk without the shield of his sarcasm. “Don’t get me wrong, I do love bread,” he says with a huff of a laugh, “but it’s more about what it stands for. It’s Ronan not having to hide behind a sword, and him taking care of me while he’s just… himself.”
“That’s actually really sweet,” I say, and Cameron’s grin turns mischievous as he looks at me.
“And it’s a bargaining chip for him. I will do disgustingly scandalous things for good bread.”
“Cam,” I groan, while Lillith chuckles. “Hey, Lillith, Cameron found a patch of wild strawberry plants, and he was just telling me he’d love to have someone to show. What if…” I gasp dramatically, and Cameron rolls his eyes as he laughs. “What if he took you? Like, right now? It would be so convenient for me to get back to work!”
“I would love to see them!” she says, and Cameron shakes his head with a smile.
“Come on, then. I’ll show you as long as you promise not to sneak too many of them.” She nods her enthusiastic agreement, and the two of them walk towards the woods, talking animatedly between themselves. My gaze drifts back to the hill, where Nyx’s eyes meet mine for the second time. They only hold for a moment, though, before they drop to stare at the ground. Ronan frowns and follows his line of sight, and when he spots me there, silent questions mark his face. I know what he’s thinking. He’s wondering what I’ve done to upset Nyx and how any of us could make it better.
But I don’t know.
None of us do.
Frustration tightens my grip until the leafy vine in my hand snaps. With a heavy sigh, I stare at the plant as its leaves droop in defeat. I take the knife from my pocket and remove the crushed section to prevent the damage from spreading.
Sometimes, you have to get rid of the broken bits to let the rest flourish.
My eyes dart to Nyx again, a tiny emerald beacon on that hill. I wonder how many of his broken bits need to be pruned so the rest can thrive.
Reyes
The sun is a nuclear ball of pissed-off fire today. By the time I’m done tending to the garden, my shirt is soaked and my curls are plastered to my head. Even under the cooling canopy of the trees, the heat has been excruciating lately. Sweat trickles along my spine, and I tense my shoulders to fight against its tickle. After I store my tools and pump another few buckets of water for the poor plants, I walk towards Ronan and Cameron’s house. We’ve formed a cooking circle in the grass beside it, and it has become the unofficial meeting spot for dinner most nights. There always seems to be a flurry of activity this time of day.
I don’t eat with the others very often. Years of isolation have conditioned me to exist in silence. I love everyone here and enjoy their company, but sometimes it’s too much. The competing voices and bursts of laughter give me a headache, and even something as simple as the constant buzz of low conversation can be overwhelming. Some nights, I crave the quiet.
Tonight is one of those nights.
The chipper sounds of the group reach me as I get closer, and they grind against my eardrums like a mortar and pestle. My teeth clench against the sensory overload.
Ronan stands at the fire, cooking in the giant cast-iron pot he uses for most meals. It’s even hotter here next to the flames, and a fresh wave of perspiration builds on my back.
“Hey, uh, Ronan?” I ask as I get closer. His sweat forms a fine, shimmering mist that highlights his good looks instead of turning him into a melting candle, and I’m immediately jealous. He glances up at me, a silent question on his face. “While I have you alone, I wanted to ask a favor.”
“A favor?” he asks, lifting his brow. “Awfully presumptuous of you to ask for something after you stabbed me. In fact, you owe me for that. Pain and suffering, plus the added torture of having to look at your face every day.”
“Oh, my gods. You stab a man in the shoulder once, just once, and no one ever lets you live it down.”
“Never,” he agrees, and that single word is strangely menacing.
“One of my requests has something to do with that, funnily enough. I was, uh, wondering if you could teach me to fight? Maybe Elas could help, too?” Both his eyebrows fly up to his hairline as he considers me, and I wring my hands as I stare at the fire. “It’s just that… we’re safe out here, right? It feels safe, at least. Comfortable. But we might not always be here, and we can’t predict what’s going to happen. I want to be able to protect myself, and the others, if I need to.”
“I can respect that,” he says with a slow nod. “Elas will deny it, but my swordsmanship is better than his. He is a more skilled marksman, though.”
The thought of dealing with the noise and chaos of a gun makes me cringe. “Yeah, no, smaller and quieter is more my style. Not to mention, we don’t have ammo to spare. I’m more comfortable with a dagger, but hand to hand combat would be useful, too.”
His lips pull into a thoughtful line that turns annoyed. “Elas claims he’s better at brawling, but it’s just because the fucker is so godsdamned big.” It’s my turn to raise my brows at him, letting my gaze climb to his eyes that are almost a full foot above mine.
“Right,” I drawl. “And you’re so small and delicate. A real wilting flower.”
“Mouthy human,” he mutters, flashing a fang at me, but I’ve learned he just enjoys threatening me. It’s a sport to him, so since I’m asking for something from him, I let him have it.
“You’ll help me?”
He turns serious as he nods. “Yes, of course. The more protection we have, the safer my Cameron will be. Let me talk to Elas, and we’ll come up with a plan.”
“Thanks, Ronan,” I say, and he starts to turn away, but I grab his wrist to stop him. He’s back to being a snarly oversized cat and glares at where I hold onto him. “Wait a second… I wasn’t finished. I need another favor.”
“Pressing your luck now.” He jerks his hand from my grip, and really, my eyeroll at his dramatics is involuntary. I couldn't help it if I tried.
“This one is more, um… personal? I’d appreciate it if you kept it between us.”
Interest piqued, he chews on his lip for a moment, and I have to hold in my laughter at how he obviously wants to hear the gossip. “Fine, but Cameron and I don’t have secrets.”
“That goes without saying, and I’d never ask you to lie to your mate… but could you otherwise keep it quiet?”
“I’ll consider it.” It’s the closest I’ll get to a commitment, and I can see the pleasure he’s getting from my discomfort as I purse my lips.
“Could you teach me to cook?”
“Cook?”
“Yeah, uh,” I grip the back of my neck and tug, a blush forming on my face as I glance up at his eyes again. “Calorie-dense foods, preferably… ones that don’t have any meat in them?”
“Ahhh,” Ronan breathes, and my skin burns hotter.
“We could use ingredients from the garden, and it doesn’t have to be fancy or complicated. I just…”
“I understand,” he says, and for once, the sarcasm is missing from his tone. The softness is jarring, and I swear, every inch of my body must be neon red by now.
“Or actually, you know what? We probably shouldn’t, because this is a terrible idea, and…”
“Reyes.” My name leaves him with such gentleness that it stops my rambling and forces me to meet his eyes again. “We can work on a few things. I’ll help you, but you need to be… careful.”
