Nyktos’s fingers began tapping his knee. “Does the idea of your death not bother you at all?”
“Why don’t you just read my emotions and find out?” I shot back.
A tight smile appeared. “You asked me not to. And contrary to what you may believe, I respect that request as much as possible.”
“Whatever,” I muttered.
“It’s not whatever.” His fingers continued drumming. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you not bothered at all by the thought of your death?”
I crossed my arms, having no idea why we were even discussing this. “Dying from the Culling doesn’t sound fun at all. So, yeah, it’s bothersome.”
Nyktos didn’t even blink. “But?”
“But it is what it is,” I repeated, returning to my pacing. “It’s reality. I have to deal with it. So, I’m dealing with it. Like I’m dealing with the fact that I’ve spent my life planning to kill an innocent Primal. Just like I’m dealing with the fact that I’ve apparently lived the gods only know how many lives, all because I got scared in one of them and ran off a stupid cliff.” My skin prickled. “Like how did I run off a cliff? It’s not like it would’ve jumped out and surprised me. I had to know the edge was there, but I just kept running? What the hell?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think it’s possible to deal with that as quickly as you’d have me believe,” he said. “And you didn’t live all the lives because you fell from a cliff—whether you knew the edge was there or not. You lived them because of Kolis’s obsession with Sotoria, and my father’s potentially problematic method of intervention.”
“Yeah, well, here I am, the end result of your father’s potentially problematic method of intervention…dealing with it,” I stated. “And no part of dealing with it has anything to do with how I feel about it.”
“We’ll have to disagree on that,” he replied. “What was…done to you then and now wasn’t and isn’t fair or right. Neither is what has been thrust upon you.”
“Unfair to me?” I nearly tripped as I stopped, staring at the shadowstone between the shelves. “What about to you? The last thing you need is knowing that…” I couldn’t even bring myself to say it. “It’s not fair to put my survival on you.”
“We’re not talking about me.”
“Well, we’re not talking about me either.”
“Disagree.”
Whatever incredibly lacking restraint I had that put a tether on my temper snapped as I spun on him. “Why do you even care how I feel about any of this? You don’t trust me. You don’t really even like me. The only reason I’m still standing here is because of the embers of life inside me.”
Wisps of luminous silver began to swirl. He said nothing as his fingers finally stopped their damn thrumming upon his knee.
An ache pierced my chest, so painful and real that I almost looked down to see if a blade had been thrust there. I looked away, inhaling deeply. “Look, I get it. I do. This whole situation is messed up. You have every right to be furious with me. To hate me for what I planned. I would if I were you, so—wait. Can you even hate since you can’t love?”
“Hate and love are not two sides of the same coin. One comes from the soul, and the other from the mind,” he said. “Hate is a product of atrocities committed against someone or is birthed from what they have done to themselves and their hellish entitlements. There couldn’t be two more different emotions.”
“Oh. Okay, then,” I murmured, wondering how he knew that when he couldn’t love, but…whatever. What did I know?
“You think that’s why I’m angry?” Swirling silver eyes locked with mine. “That it stems from your plans to kill me?”
“Is that a serious question?” I asked. “Uh. Yes.”
“Don’t get me wrong. Learning that you planned to seduce and kill me was annoying.”
“Annoying?” I repeated, my brows lifting. “I would use a much more descriptive emotion than that, but okay.”
Nyktos seemed to take a deep breath, and I supposed I should be grateful that patience didn’t stem from the kardia. “What you plotted to do isn’t something one easily forgets. But what enraged me is that you had to know what would’ve happened to you even if there had been a small chance you’d succeed. If one of my guards didn’t get to you, Nektas would have. Your act would’ve meant your death—the final kind.”