20. Chapter 20- Nyx

Afeather tickles my nose, causing me to giggle again. I have been taken and devoured on every surface in this room. I then took my turn in claiming his pleasure again and again in many different ways on just as many surfaces… maybe more. His taste still lingers on my tongue, his blood covers my skin, and yet I don't want to move or wash. I want to continue to lie here in his arms and bask in the aftermath.

Which is gross…but yet…not. Because with him, everything feels different. More. Better. I can't get enough. I am left craving even after I have already gotten my fill.

I never wanted anything like this before, but now that I have it, I will kill anyone who tries to take it from me.

My mate.

Mine!

I am still pissed that all of my hard work has been erased by the male I now claim. One day, I will forgive him fully. At least, I hope I will. Years of hate and revulsion cannot be easily discarded because he fucks well.

A tapping sound on the window breaks through my musing.

"The vines are back," I whisper, running my fingers through his curls.

"This new behavior is weird."

"You would know better than I," I laugh, causing his head to bounce slightly on my chest.

"The only change I can think of is you. The vines lashed out when you were down there, didn't they?"

"Yeah. They scratched my arm."

He whispers something so low that I can't catch the words. His warm breath causes my skin to break out in chill bumps.

"What?"

He raises his head and looks at me for a long moment. It's almost like he is struggling to find the words, but then he smiles brightly at me.

"You are the ghost."

"That is what the citizens call me. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"It's you! Get dressed!" He jumps out of bed, grabs his glasses, and digs through drawers. "Hurry, get dressed!"

I still don't understand what he is trying to tell me, but I get out of bed and follow his lead. Once we are both fully clothed, he takes my hand and runs out of the room with me in tow. I can barely keep up with him. I don't want to tell him to slow down because he seems really excited. And I haven't seen him this animated about anything before!

We fly down the giant staircase hand in hand until we get to his office, where he pulls the book back to reveal the secret passageway. It looks different with the early morning light streaming through the small windows, which are almost covered by the snow on the ground.

I steady myself once we reach the junction, but this time is different. There is no pull either way or the feeling of dread deep in my gut. And even as we make our way toward the bundle of violent vines, there is no sticky floor trying to peel my skin off. There is just…nothing.

But then I look at Felix. Sweat drips down his forehead, the muscles in his neck are taut, and his jaw flexes. He is still feeling the effects of the spell.

He doesn't say a word of complaint, only powers through without so much as a grunt. I don't know why he chose me, this strong, compassionate, persistent male, but I am so glad he did. I know that even if I show weakness, he will never use it against me. Instead, he will stand by my side and help hold me up when I don't have the strength to do so myself.

I don't know how to make him feel the same, to see that I would do the same thing for him. Do I say it in words? Or would actions be better? I don't have any rupiah, so I can't buy gifts…I could steal them…but he may not like that either. Maybe if I—

"What are you thinking so hard about over there?" he grits between clenched teeth.

"Nothing."

"I can practically feel the over-thinking like a physical ache."

"It is not important enough to be worried about at the moment. We can discuss it when you are not dragging me toward a bunch of cursed vines determined to drain me dry."

Shit! Is that what he is doing? Was this his plan all along?

His hand slips into mine, and our fingers intertwine. Sweat pours into his eyes as he brings my hand up to kiss the back of it.

"We are in this together. No matter what," he grits out.

"Together," I confirm, despite every instinct screaming that we don't need anyone and that I am better off alone.

Can I do this alone? Of course. But I don't have to anymore.

"So, you feel nothing?"

"Nope." I pop the p to rub it in his face. Just because I am starting to love the male, I don't have to stop giving him trouble. "What are we doing?"

"I have a theory. When the Forgotten King…your father…was being—"

"Drained dry? Killed? Murdered?" I supply.

"Drained dry, it is written that he pointed at my father and said: You tore a house apart in the name of your greed. Because of that, the shadows will bring forth the light needed to show the truth. And once the blood of a vengeful ghost is found, then this kingdom will finally be free of you."

"And you believe I am that ghost?"

"Yes."

It doesn't make any sense to me, but if it does to him, I will follow his lead.

"Well, it's worth a try. Is the spell still affecting you?" I look him over. He is still sweating but doesn't look any worse for wear.

"It is, but not nearly as bad as it has in the past. My guess is because I have your blood in me now. Your father made the curse, so maybe his daughter can undo it."

We stop and stare at each other for a moment, unsure what will happen on the other side. But like we said, together. We both nod once and then push the door open, the floor still thick with blood on the other side.

To my surprise, the vines are no longer a whirling violent mass. In their place is a beautiful female lying asleep on a bed with the vines growing out of her womb. They don't thrash or snap; instead, they stand still and slightly vibrate, like they are holding back—waiting for something.

I slowly walk closer, and that slight tug of apprehension returns to pull me back toward the vines—to this female.

"Rose!" Felix says, trying to run up closer to the side of the bed. But the vines rear back, ready to slice him in half.

I quickly run to get in front of him. They can't take him from me. Not when I have finally found him!

"MINE!" I scream, staring down the vines.

Pain radiates throughout my entire being. The thorns pierce deeply into muscle and bone. The vines constrict around me, helping my blood flow faster into the greedy thorns.

"NO!" Felix screams from far away.

I try to find him through the mass of violent foliage and my hair, but I can't see him. I can only hear his curses and threats.

I stop moving. The pain is almost unbearable as I am held suspended above the female, her copper eyes bright and baring into my soul. She tears through memories and emotions, searching for something I can't name in order to help her find it faster. Black spots dance on the side of my vision, yet she still claws her way through memory after memory.

Finally, she stops. All is still except the screams and the combined scent of blood and smoke that permeates the air. Bodies litter the floor—their shredded organs and blood in pools beneath them. My family and my friends condensed down to mush beneath the feet of the monsters.

Dominic holds me in his arms and whispers threats in my ear so that I can't hear what my father says. But I know he speaks. His lips move despite the blood pouring from them.

She doesn't let go. She continues to drink from him. Felix's father screams at her. But HE keeps me from hearing any of it.

But then her Rose's deep copper eyes meet mine, and my soul is sucked from my body.

I observe a young girl with snow-white hair watch me drink from her father. Dominic whispers things in her ear to keep her distracted. To keep her from being traumatized by my father. She is so young and doesn't deserve this.

"You tore a house apart in the name of your greed. Because of that, the shadows will bring forth the light needed to show the truth. And once the blood of a vengeful ghost is found, then this kingdom will finally be free of you," the King shouts, pointing at my father.

But as soon as the words are spoken, I feel the magik slither into my womb and hold on tight. I try to let go, but Father continues to scream at me to finish it. I cannot disobey him, no matter how much I want to. He is my King. If I show any kind of weakness, he will kill me. It doesn't matter if I am the heir to the throne; he will not tolerate any ounce of disobedience. And if I give in now, everything we have been working for will be in jeopardy.

The King goes limp in my arms, and my mouth goes dry as I swallow the last drop of his blood. I slowly lay him on the ground with as much respect as possible. This family didn't deserve this.

I put my emotionless mask back in place before I turn toward my father's outstretched hand. But before I can touch it, pain blasts through my body and forces me to my knees. I try to push it away until I can get somewhere private. My screams pierce the air, and my flesh splits open. But there is no blood. There is no gore. Only vines pour from my stomach. It feels like they are being ripped from my veins and organs. The vines get thicker and faster as they devour the bodies around me. I feel their essence being fed back to me and setting my veins on fire.

I hear their screams now, their last moments, because I hold their souls within me, keeping them prisoner until the blood of a vengeful ghost is found. Until I drink every last drop.

But then there is a reassuring voice that drowns out all the terrifying screams. "I hold no grudge against you. I know why you followed his orders. The curse latched onto you because of your desire to stop him. So use it. Wield it. Its power is now yours."

My soul shoots back into my body, and I am once again staring into the copper eyes on the bed.

"Someone wants to talk to you," she whispers in a raspy voice.

The world shifts and contorts, making my stomach cramp from fighting to hold on to anything inside of it. Colors dance until I land softly on my feet in the same room as the last vision. But there is no blood, gore, or Keryth destroying a family. The dark wood floors are so clean they shine in the candlelight of the giant chandeliers hanging from the impossibly high ceilings.

Memories of this room come flooding back all at once, playing before me in blue smoke and shadows. I see myself at five years old, playing with small dolls in the corner while my mother had tea with the other ladies. Ten years old painting while my father held meetings about the winter months. Fifteen, finally old enough to go to my first ball. But then there is only my father standing before me. His long white hair is in intricate braids that hang on each side of his kind face. His eyes glow with an eerie light that grows brighter when he smiles and reaches for me.

"My daughter, look how much you have grown," his voice slightly echoes, but is still the same soothing cadence I have recently remembered.

"Father!" I run to him and hold on tight as his arms wrap around me.

"Oh, my beautiful, beautiful girl. I have been watching you as much as I can and am incredibly proud of you!"

A weird sensation moves through my bones, and tears pour from my eyes. My father carefully lifts me into his lap, holding me against his chest while rocking me back and forth. He does this every time I'm scared. He never cares how silly the thing that scared me is.

I look into his blue eyes and give him my best teary smile.

"Poppa, I'm sorry. I know you are busy."

"Nonsense, my Little Ghost. What has frightened you this time?" He brushes my hair from my wet cheeks.

"It is silly, really."

"Tell me," he smiles. I love his smile. It always makes my heart hurt less.

"I was standing in my room and saw a woman in the shadows. I thought it was Momma at first. She looked just like her. But her hair was black. When she stepped into the light, she was covered in blood and drooling." I choke on the last words because the memory comes back.

"And then what happened?" Poppa rubs my back, helping me catch my breath.

"She blocked the door. I had to get past her to get out."

"That is so brave," he coos. I know he is only saying to make me feel better, but it still helps me feel brave enough to finish my story.

"I got closer, and she changed right in front of me." I fist his robe and pull. He needs to understand. "It was me, Poppa! I was the monster! It was a mirror I was looking into!"

"Do you know why I call you little ghost?" he says with a soothing voice.

I shake my head and hide my face in his thick robe.

"You were always so quiet walking around the halls. And no one would see you until it was too late. Every time we hear a shout, we know you have snuck up on someone else."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to."

"Don't be sorry. It makes us all smile. And you know what else?" He helps me get up, grabs my hand, and walks me back toward my room. "It helps me worry about you less. Because if you can be that quiet while walking around, then if we are ever in real danger, I know you can hide better than anyone." I hesitate outside my bedroom door, but Poppa pulls me forward. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

I do what he says, despite wanting to run away. But the monster isn't there. It is just me. My white hair flows down to my waist, my purple nightgown is long enough you can't see my feet, my head barely comes to Poppa's shoulders, and I still have the same blue eyes as him. There is no blood, no dagger, no monster.

"I see me." I smile at Poppa, but there is a wrinkle between his brows. "Am I wrong?" "You want to know what I see?" I nod quickly, excited to hear what he has to say. "I see a young woman who is strong, courageous—" I watch with rapt attention as the vision before me transforms. Slowly, I grow taller. "—resourceful, kind, beautiful, and so much more." I stand before him, looking like the woman I saw earlier but…different. There is no blood covering me and no death in my eyes. I look just like Momma.

"How…how did you get rid of the monster?" I step up to the mirror and inspect my face closely.

"There was never one there, only you."

"But—"

"What you have done over the years never made you a monster; it made you exactly who you needed to be in order to survive, to heal. And in the process, you became a hero to those who could not get themselves out of those terrifying situations."

"Poppa…"

"Nyx!" someone yells, but they sound so far away it is hard to tell who it is.

"Daughter…I need to know about the Prince. I know what I have seen, but I want to hear your thoughts."

"NYX!" they yell again.

"I…um…" I look around the dimly lit bedroom, but there isn't anyone other than me and Poppa.

"Alina?" Poppa's finger lightly brushes my chin, encouraging me to look at him once again.

"Hmm?" What was the question? I feel like I am being pulled in two different directions, making it difficult to stay focused on what he is saying.

"The Prince?" I grab his hand and smile at him.

"I hated him at first. I dreamed about putting a dagger in his heart multiple times. Especially after he kidnapped me," I chuckle as my father's eyes get big with worry. "But as time went on, I learned a lot about him."

"How do you know what you learned is truth and not some brilliant deceit?"

"Because…" I stop, not sure what to say. How do I know Felix is telling the truth? "Because when he talks to me about things, my chest doesn't get tight. When I ask a question, he looks me in the eye when answering. Because… I love him, Poppa." There, I said it.

"Is that so?" He raises one eyebrow and crosses his arms while studying me carefully.

"Yes."

"How can I be sure?"

"You don't need to be sure; I do."

"That is all I need to know." He kisses my forehead and returns to the form of blue smoke and shadows.

"Poppa?"

"Goodbye, my Little Ghost."

He dissipates as if a wind burst through the room. Then my vision twists and my stomach churns once again until I am staring into the copper eyes of the male who has completely changed my life.