Chapter 49: Chapter 50: You’re so brave, Gorgeous
Nyx
I don’t know when my body moved.
One second I was standing frozen at the edge of the clearing, watching the tension between Thorne and Ashriel coil tighter and tighter like a live wire stretched to its breaking point, thick, electric, and ready to snap with devastating consequences.
The next...
I was there. Literally standing in front of Thorne, my smaller frame positioned like a fragile shield between two storms of raw power and simmering resentment.
My brain lagged several frantic heartbeats behind my body. *What the hell am I doing?*
It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t even smart. It just... happened. An instinctive, reckless impulse that overrode every survival instinct screaming in my head.
And I hated how quickly the reason crystallized in my mind.
Because no matter how loudly I told myself I didn’t care about any of them, that I was just trying to survive this nightmare place, a stubborn, stupid part of me still did. A part of me still remembered that Thorne had been the very first person in this strange, brutal world to show me something that almost resembled kindness. But a gruff, reluctant acknowledgment of my existence when everyone else seemed content to let me fade into the background.
Apparently, that fleeting scrap of humanity was enough for my traitorous body to throw itself into the line of fire.
Fantastic. Truly stellar decision-making, Nyx.
"Ashriel, what the hell are you doing?" I snapped, forcing my voice to remain steady even as adrenaline surged through my veins like liquid fire.
My heart hammered too fast, too loud, a frantic drumbeat echoing in my ears and vibrating through my chest. Now that I was actually standing here, the full weight of my impulsive action crashed over me.
If Ashriel decided to unleash whatever dark, terrifying force had been building between him and Thorne...
I would be the first one in its path.
Not Thorne.
But Me.
Cold fear slithered up my spine, deliberate and icy, wrapping around each vertebra with slow precision.
What if he turned that empty, ancient gaze on me instead? What if I became the target? What if one wrong breath, one misplaced word, and everything ended right here in this blood-soaked clearing?
I swallowed hard, throat tight and dry.
Too late to step back now. Too late to pretend I hadn’t just inserted myself into a conflict I barely understood.
Ashriel didn’t answer immediately.
He simply started walking toward me, slow, unhurried, each step measured and deliberate, as if none of us were worth the effort of haste. Every footfall seemed to press down on the air itself, making it heavier, thicker, harder to breathe. The forest around us grew unnaturally quiet, as though even the trees and shadows were holding their breath in anticipation.
I held my ground.
Barely.
My legs felt rooted to the spot by sheer stubbornness and the knowledge that retreating now would only make me look weaker than I already felt.
He stopped directly in front of me.
Dangerously close.
The heat radiating from his powerful frame brushed against my skin, carrying the faint metallic scent of blood and something darker, smoke and ancient stone and unspoken secrets. For one breathless second, I wondered if I had just made the worst, and possibly final, decision of my life.
Then he reached for my hand.
I stiffened instinctively, every muscle locking tight, but I didn’t pull away. I didn’t dare.
He placed something cool and familiar into my palm.
My blade.
The twin blade I had thrown to him earlier in the chaos of battle.
My fingers closed around the hilt automatically, the grip grounding me, familiar weight anchoring my spinning thoughts back to reality.
His voice, when it finally came, was quiet, flat, and utterly empty of emotion.
"Now I owe you nothing."
Oh.
Something sharp and unexpected dropped in my chest, like a stone sinking into deep water. A sting I hadn’t anticipated bloomed behind my ribs, raw, foolish, and entirely unwelcome.
I hadn’t been expecting gratitude. Or loyalty. Or even basic acknowledgment. Not from someone like Ashriel. The cold finality of those words still hurt more than I wanted to admit. It felt like a door slamming shut before I even realized I’d been hoping it might stay open.
I hated that it affected me at all.
He released my hand as if it meant nothing.
As if I meant nothing.
Then he turned and walked away without hesitation, without a second glance, without any acknowledgment of the heavy silence he left in his wake. His broad back disappeared into the shadowy treeline, swallowed by the forest like a ghost returning to whatever haunted realm he truly belonged to.
I stood there motionless for several long seconds, staring after him, trying desperately to unravel why his departure bothered me far more than it should have. Why the sting lingered. Why part of me felt strangely... abandoned.
And failing miserably.
Then....
Warmth brushed my cheek.
Soft. Sudden. Unexpected.
Elion.
"You’re so brave, Gorgeous," he murmured, his voice light and effortless, as if we weren’t standing in the middle of a deadly forest surrounded by creatures that wanted us dead and alliances that seemed ready to fracture at any moment.
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Didn’t even react outwardly.
I simply let it happen.
Because compared to the whirlwind of Ashriel’s cold indifference, and the suffocating tension still lingering in the air, Elion’s casual affection felt... normal.
Strangely, dangerously normal.
But then I felt it.
Another gaze.
Cold. Sharp. Piercing straight through me like a blade between the ribs.
I didn’t need to turn my head to know it belonged to Ivy. If looks could kill, I would have collapsed on the spot, bleeding out from a hundred invisible wounds.
I glanced slightly to the side.
Just enough to catch movement.
Thorne.
He was already walking away, shoulders rigid, steps purposeful and unyielding. No pause. No words. Not even a simple, grudging thank you for stepping between him and whatever violence had been brewing.
Just... gone.
Like what I had done didn’t matter in the slightest.
Or maybe, like it mattered too much for him to acknowledge.
I wasn’t sure which possibility cut deeper.
Ivy followed him immediately, of course. The others weren’t far behind. One by one, they began to move again, spreading out in a loose, cautious formation to search the surrounding area without venturing too deep into the treacherous forest.
Careful now. Wary.
As if the earlier chaos with the Ape had finally taught them that recklessness here came with a brutal price.
And food.
We still needed food.
Because apparently surviving a rampaging monster wasn’t enough of a challenge for one day. Now we also had to battle hunger, exhaustion, and the creeping realization that Morvalis seemed determined to break us in every possible way.
I exhaled slowly, adjusting my grip on the blade until the familiar ridges pressed comfortingly into my palm. The weight felt reassuring. Solid. A small reminder that I wasn’t completely defenseless.
Then I felt it.
Elion’s hand sliding into mine.
Warm. Firm. Intentional.
His fingers intertwined with mine as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
I glanced up at him briefly.
He simply smiled, that easy, charming smile that seemed capable of disarming almost anyone.
Like everything was fine.
Like nothing was wrong.
Like he hadn’t just casually kissed my cheek in front of the entire group after watching me step into the middle of a potential bloodbath.
I should have pulled away.
I should have said something sharp, set a boundary, done anything to reclaim some control over the chaos swirling inside me.
But I didn’t.
Because right now, in this moment, he was the only one still standing beside me. The only one who hadn’t walked away. The only one who felt undeniably, comfortingly present.
So I let him hold my hand.
Just for now.
Just until the trembling in my legs subsided.
Just until I could breathe without feeling the ghost of Ashriel’s indifference or Thorne’s silence pressing down on my shoulders.
Just until I figured out what the hell I was doing in this place.
Because if there was one thing I was beginning to understand with painful clarity, it was this:
Morvalis wasn’t merely testing our strength, our survival skills, or our ability to fight monsters.
It was testing everything else, our loyalties, our hearts, our sanity, the fragile threads connecting us to one another.
And I had a terrible feeling we were only just getting started.
