“I wouldn’t hurt him,” I say, so quietly it’s almost a whisper.

  “Not on purpose… just like he wouldn’t purposefully hurt you.”

  “Even if he does, I can take it,” I argue, setting my jaw.

  “Can you? What if he shuts down because he doesn’t know how to process basic kindness? Can you handle that? Or what if he needs space? Will you be able to give it to him, or will you need more?”

  “I have been, haven’t I?” I counter, crossing my arms over my chest. “This whole time, I’ve respected his boundaries. I would never ask for more than he has to give.”

  Ronan pushes out a heavy sigh, though he seems wary, not annoyed. “With Nyx, we don’t know what we’re dealing with… not really.”

  “It’s only food,” I mutter, looking away.

  “Is it?”

  “Oh, my gods! Stop it with the dramatic rhetorical questions!” I snap, and his snark returns full force as his brow hikes again. “If you don’t want to do it, just say so rather than talking to me in that condescending tone.”

  “You and that temper—” he starts, but I interrupt him.

  “You’re one to talk, aren’t you?” We’ve both stepped closer, baring our teeth, even if mine are level with his stupid broad chest. Ronan throws his shoulders back and stands at his full height, but after staring at me for a moment longer, he deflates.

  “Fuck,” he groans, dragging his palm over his face. “Yeah, Reyes. I’ll show you how to make a few things.”

  Embarrassment replaces my anger, and I scold myself for losing my temper when I’m the one coming to him for help. “Thanks. Look, I’m sorry, okay? The heat has made me cranky, and I’m a mess from working in the garden today. I’m going to rinse off in the creek before I go home.”

  “Are you not eating here?” he asks, and I shake my head.

  “Not tonight. You don’t have to make me anything.” It’s the same excuse and cop-out I give him every time I bail, and he responds with the same insistence.

  “No, it’s fine. Go cool off, and I’ll set a bowl in the windowsill for you.” I don’t miss his double entendre, but after the stunt I just pulled, I let him have the win.

  “Thanks,” I say with a white-flag exhausted smile, and Ronan’s head tilts in that observant way he has about him.

  “Nyx is eating at home today, too. I was going to deliver his, but since you’re headed that direction…” My heart kicks in my chest as Ronan’s lip curves into a knowing smirk. “Could you take it for me?”

  “Yeah,” I squeak, my voice tight, before I grab my throat and clear it, trying to soothe the nerves. I attempt a slightly more composed smile, but the cocky bastard only smirks deeper. “Yeah, yep, I can do that. No, uh… no problemo.”

  No problemo?!

  When the fuck have I ever said that, and why would I choose now to start?

  “Thanks. I’ll leave them both out for you.” His grin spreads further, and I dart away before I can die of embarrassment. His chuckle follows me as I try very hard to look casual, even with my shoulders annoyingly stiff.

  I grab clean clothes and soap from my house, and once I duck into the forest, I finally relax. My overstimulated mind loosens a notch of its tension as the quiet stillness envelopes me, and a quick glance around confirms I’m alone.

  Damp fabric clings to my torso as I tear my shirt off, tossing it onto the rocks with a wet plop. Even though the day is hot, the breeze that brushes over my skin brings a welcome coolness. My eyes close and my face tilts up towards the early evening sky. Dappled, dancing shadows cause light and dark to shift over my eyelids, and a deep inhale fills my lungs.

  One breath, then two, and from there, they come easier.

  Despite my time at the village, I still feel like an outsider sometimes. Ronan likes to give me a hard time, and I don’t think a day has passed without his sarcastic jabs and teasing comments. There’s no actual heat behind them, though. He just does it because it amuses him.

  Everyone else has been incredibly welcoming. Cameron and August frequently check in with me, and Lillith will happily talk to anyone. Once Elas and I got past our… differences at my old camp, he quickly became a friend. Even Taryn has warmed up to me, despite her guardedness.

  Xeni keeps his distance, but it isn’t personal. Aside from the few times I’ve seen him in tense conversations with Ronan and Elas, he stays to himself. He chose the most isolated house here, and hasn’t asked for any help with repairs. I haven’t either, unless extra hands were necessary, but his isolation is different.

  No one reaches out to him besides August, who occasionally attempts to bring him into the group. But Xeni turns down the invitation every time, and I wonder if someday August might give up on him, too.

  I feel sorry for Xeni, and in a way, I understand him.

  Everyone wants to paint him as the bad guy because he worked at Ljómur, but no one knows the circumstances that led him to that place. He was trapped in an unwinnable situation, and it doesn’t seem fair for him to be labelled a villain while I’m frequently viewed as a victim.

  Our stories aren’t that different, not at their core.

  My camp was slaughtered, and I stood back and watched it happen. Never raised a finger to fight as the attack happened. No, I hid in the safety of my underground sanctuary and waited until the danger had passed, then spent the next week cleaning up the devastation.

  I moved the bodies of my friends I wasn’t brave enough to help, and cleaned the bloodstains left behind by their death. Crimson nightmares and aching shoulders from too-heavy bodies, and sun-blistered skin from the days working in the oppressive heat with only my shame to keep me company. I burned a pyre and whispered pain-filled words as the smoke reduced them to dust and ash, and I lived.

  Perhaps he played a part in the atrocities, but is it any better to stand by and do nothing? I watched the attack unfold without dirtying my hands or risking my neck.

  Coward.

  Aren’t I just as guilty as he is?

  Thick emotion builds in my throat as I force another deep breath, closing my eyes until the crippling regret passes. I strip the rest of my sweaty clothes and dive under the surface of the pool. The pressure of the water surrounds me, and my mood improves as I clean myself. Some of the heaviness washes away with the sweat and grime that coats my skin, and my stomach rumbles impatiently once I’m cool enough to recognize how hungry I am.

  Visible steam rises off my body as I climb onto the rocks surrounding the small cove. It’s so hot that by the time I shake off the excess water and retrieve my clothes, I’m almost dry, and they slide on with little resistance. The walk back to the village only takes a couple of minutes, and the sounds of dinner carry out the open windows as I collect the two bowls sitting on the windowsill. Fresh nerves coil in my stomach as I realize Ronan has given me something I’ve wanted for weeks.

  An excuse to talk to Nyx again.

  Vines cover his cottage near the end of the path, hugging the wooden siding without harming it. White and yellow flowers bud randomly on the green, and a huff of a laugh leaves my nose at the sight. There are plenty of other vines growing along the village structures, and none of them have those blooms.

  They’re saved only for him.

  Inside his house. Where he currently is.

  Oh, dear gods, he’s inside his house and I volunteered to talk to him. How does someone even talk to a beautiful creature like him? What am I supposed to say?

  Hey there, gorgeous. I hear you have crippling social anxiety and an aversion to people. Me too, baby. What’s that? Have I ever spent years with no company but my own? Why, yes. Yes, I have.

  I’m so fucked.

  Despite the very real urge to either vomit or run away, I steel my spine and force my feet to walk in a casual stroll, but then I trip on a rock and nearly drop the food. My cheeks flame as I glance around, but the only one nearby is Boomerang curled up in Nyx’s flower bed. She lifts her head at the noise and tilts it as I pass.

  Even the damn dog is judging me.

  Outside his door, I stare at my hands and realize I have no way to knock. “Uh… Nyx?” I call out, pleased when my voice is only a little strained. “It’s, um, it’s Reyes.” Infinite stillness comes from inside the cottage, but finally, the soft pad of feet approaches. The hinges creak as he pulls it open, and sunlight streams through the crack and turns the pale sage of his irises almost white.

  Long, thin fingers clutch the door as his eyes bounce from my face to the bowls in my hand and back up again. “Hi,” he whispers.

  “Hi,” I whisper in response, and a smile tugs on my lips as he tilts his head in the same inquisitive way as Boomerang. His waterfall of forest green hair cascades over his shoulder, and I realize I’m staring. With my mouth open. I snap it shut, then realize I have to open it to talk, so now I’m standing here imitating a fish.

  Off to a great start.

  “Hrnng,” I say, then clear my throat and force a smile that I really hope doesn’t look as manic as it feels. “Um, what I mean to say is I, um, brought you food?” His brows flick together as his gaze darts again to the bowls, and I bark out a nervous laugh. “That sounded like a question, and it wasn’t. Can I start over?”

  “Yes?” he says after a moment’s pause, and I take a deep, grounding breath.

  “Hi. I brought you dinner. I’m eating alone tonight, too, and… yeah. Ronan asked me to deliver it to you. I wanted to. He asked me, but I… I wanted to come.”

  He stares at the food for a long moment before accepting it with a nod. “Thank you.” Those giant eyes drift up to mine again, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth before he takes a deep breath. He’s nervous too, and the realization calms me. “You do not eat with them?”

  “Not tonight. They’re great, but it’s been an exhausting day, and I just wanted to be alone.”

  “Oh,” he breathes, and his gaze falls to the floor. “You can be alone. Thank you for—”

  “Oh, no,” I blurt out, my words tumbling over one another as they rush out. I hate that I’m interrupting him, but I’m desperate to explain. He tenses, but his eyes stay glued to the ground. “No. Nyx, I didn’t mean I don’t want to be around you, and I wasn’t saying I want to leave. I’ve just been by myself for a very long time, and they can be…”

  “Loud?” he guesses in that same shy whisper.

  A quiet laugh blows from my nose. “Yeah. Loud. They’re amazing, but they’re a lot to handle sometimes.” He shuffles between his feet, risking a flickering glance at my face again. “Um, maybe one day we could eat alone… together?”

  A faint darkness tints his cheeks, his flush almost a burnished rosy copper against his skin. “You want to… eat with me?”

  “Yeah, I do. Not today. I know I sprung it on you out of nowhere. But I’d really like to spend time with you. Even if we’re just there… just alone together. No expectations. Is that… would that be okay?”

  Nyx is quiet for so long that my heart cinches in my chest, becoming tighter by the second with the weight of his rejection.

  And it’s stupid.

  It’s stupid and selfish. I shouldn’t demand more than he can offer right now, mere minutes after swearing to Ronan I could handle it.

  With a forced smile, I nod and retreat half a step, but my movements are stiff and unnatural. Gravel crunches under the sole of my shoe, and the sound slices through the silence. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I asked out of the blue like this. Ignore me, alright? Pretend I didn’t ask, and enjoy your meal.” Face flaming, I spin and take a single stride away when he speaks.

  “Wait,” he whispers, and I freeze but don’t turn towards him. Instead, I stare at my bowl in my hand. “Reyes?” It’s the first time he’s said my name, and the sweet, uncertain sound gives me the courage to face him.

  He holds his dinner with one hand while the other grasps at his shorts, fisting the material that swallows him whole. “Yeah, Nyx?” I ask gently, and he glances up at me with his lip pinched between his teeth again.

  “Ronan is… bad with…” He trails off for a second, loosening his grip to gesture around at the trees above us. “Nature. He does not know the words. The names.”

  “Of the plants?” I ask, and relief washes over his expression as he nods.

  “Maybe… you will teach me their names?”

  Unbidden, a smile spreads over my face, and his lips twitch in response with the tiniest offering. I drink in the momentary show of happiness, still grinning as I say, “Tell you what… I’ll make a deal with you.”

  “A deal?” Gods, he’s so adorably curious as he flutters those long lashes a few times, scrunching his nose.

  “I’ll teach you the plants I know, and you can teach me their names in your language.”

  “I… teach you? My words?”

  “Your words are important, too,” I say softly as his eyes shimmer and move up towards the sky. “Why should you be the only one learning something new?”

  “I am b-bad to teach.” His words stumble as I watch the potent emotions wash over his face. “My mind… is not always…” A quiet, frustrated groan slips from his throat as he gestures around again, the movements more agitated this time.

  “It’s alright,” I soothe, keeping my voice as level as possible even as my heart cracks at his pain. “There’s no pressure, Nyx. We won’t call it teaching. We’ll just be two friends, spending time in the forest and sharing what we know.”

  His eyes close, and a single tear slides down his cheek. My chest squeezes as I watch him attempt to collect himself. “You want to be my friend?” he finally asks.

  “I’d love to be your friend.” His damp eyes open, and as he meets my gaze, the prominent Adam’s apple in his throat bobs. “Everything on your own time and by your rules, okay? When you’re ready, all you have to do is come find me. And if you decide you don’t want to, that’s okay, too.”

  “I want,” he manages to whisper, tears clinging to his lashes like dewdrops. “I want.”

  My eyes burn as my throat tightens again. “Then you’ll have. Whatever you want that’s in my power to give, you’ll have it.” He nods, lip wobbling as his eyes hit the floor, and I know he needs to be alone. “Eat your dinner before it gets cold, okay? Do what makes you happy, Nyx. You know where to find me.”

  “Thank you,” he whispers, and I force myself to walk across the path to my own tiny home. His stare follows me like a physical thing, and I can’t help it as I turn around and look over my shoulder once I reach my door.

  Nyx’s eyes widen, and he ducks his head like he’s ashamed I caught him staring. Sheets of hair fall into his face, hiding him from the world once more. I smile even though he can’t see me, and step into my own quiet house.

  And there in the solitude, I hide, too.

  Nyx

  The door closes with a quiet click, extinguishing the ray of light that was sneaking through. I cradle the quickly cooling bowl of rice and beans in both hands, staring at the now-empty doorway. My heart still thumps behind my ribcage, fighting this silent war between the thrill of having Reyes so near this space and the fear of what he might think if he looked inside.

  Vines weave around my cottage, uninvited but welcome. They curtain the windows with their leafy fingers and prevent anyone from being able to see past. My protectors, and the keepers of my secret. They turn the sunlight into streams of jade that bathe the entire living area in a green glow. It’s my one comfort, knowing the forest has made this place its home, too.

  Metal silverware clanks against the ceramic bowl as I walk over to the only piece of furniture and sit. Shame swells in my stomach, filling my insides until I’m convinced I might overflow with it. I look around the barren space.

  A small bed.

  An even smaller table.

  Hard floors beneath my feet, and a thin blanket atop the mattress.

  A mirror image of my cell at Ljómur.

  The replica is perfect, down to the precise distance between the bed and the tiny table. My arm knows exactly how far to reach for a glass of water. Ninety years of practice have turned it into muscle memory.

  Here, even in my freedom, I’ve recreated my prison. Built a carbon copy of my captivity.

  I hate it.

  The memories.

  The familiarity.

  The solace found in the emptiness.

  A tear slides down my cheek as I close my eyes and force myself to breathe. Alone, so alone, no matter who’s around. Wanting to reach out and form those connections, to rediscover what it’s like to belong. I crave the comfort of another as much as I’m terrified to receive it.

  One more thing to plague my mind. It’s so loud inside my head, with the push and pull, back and forth, start and stop, stop, stop. My thoughts keep spinning, changing, and rearranging. Warring, and screaming, always screaming, until there’s no room for anything else. The fork clanks against the bowl again, my legs quaking beneath me as I fight this fall into oblivion.

  Deep breaths. Steady inhales and draining exhales.

  Eat.

  Reyes said to eat. That’s something I can do. Something I can control. My body needs fuel.

  I take a bite.

  Swallow, but don’t taste.

  It’s a start. Eat.

  The other prisoners at Ljómur were rabid beasts when their food came. We were always hungry, but they gave us just enough to sustain our bodies. Still, the moment the trays slid through the openings in their barred doors, they snatched them up as if they might never receive another meal. But there was no need. No rush. They failed to realize one vital fact.

  Our lives were too important to be taken by any hands besides theirs.

  We would not die unless it was of their choosing. Not our choice. Never our choice.

  I tried, though. Gods, did I try. There were times I gave up on life, refusing my meals until I was too feeble to climb out of bed. No one talks about how much starvation hurts. Bone-deep hunger ate me alive, replaced my insides with its vicious razors, and it cut so deep, I swear I felt the bleeding.