Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
The midnight water was warmer than my lake, but it was still refreshing as I made my way across the slippery pool under Nyktos’s watchful gaze. He stayed close as if he feared I’d venture too far and drown. I wondered if the minerals he’d spoken of eased my sore muscles as I let myself slip under the surface, loving the feeling of water rushing across my face and over my head. Or maybe it was the orgasm. I smiled underwater. Could’ve been both. I stayed submerged, eyes closed, and arms outstretched, floating—
A cool chest touched mine, startling me. Nyktos’s arms folded around my waist, lifting me. My eyes opened as my head broke the surface. Clutching his shoulders, I dragged in a mouthful of air as I looked up at him.
He scooped the wet hair plastered to my cheeks back from my face. “You were starting to worry me.”
“Sorry.” My face heated. I hadn’t thought about how holding myself underwater must look to someone else. “I didn’t think I was under that long.”
His eyes searched mine. “It was close to two minutes.”
My brows shot up. “You were keeping track of the time?”
He nodded, lowering his arm from my waist as he drew his hand along my jaw. “Why do you do that?”
“I…I really don’t know.” I bit my lip as I drifted back. The water was chest-deep here on me, but on Nyktos, it barely reached his navel, and he was utterly too distracting when water slicked his hair back and coursed down his chest. “It’s just something I’ve done since I was a kid,” I said, resting my arms on the ledge of the cool stone wall. “Maybe I started doing it because instead of feeling like I couldn’t breathe, I was actually controlling it, and it wasn’t controlling me? I don’t know. But it made me feel in control. Not weak or something.” I shrugged as Nyktos remained quiet. “Then again, I’m not even sure that makes sense. It’s just a weird habit of mine.” I cleared my throat. “So, anyway, I guess today was a failure.”
“Not really.” The water stirred as he drew closer. “Like I told you, I felt the essence in you. Honestly, I probably felt it in the woods that night, but I was…”
I glanced back to see him dip under the water and then resurface a few seconds later, rising like the Primal god he was. I got a little caught up in watching the muscles along his chest and biceps do all sorts of interesting things as he lifted his arms to run his hands over his face and push his hair back.
“I think we can draw it out,” he said, joining me at the wall. He looked over. “You’ve got to remember it’s not often that gods can use their eather in such a manner while in the Culling. You’re already way ahead of the game.”
Nodding, I rested my chin on my arm. “But I’m not supposed to even be in the game.”
“There is that.” Nyktos was quiet for a few moments. “Did I ever tell you about Lathan when he was younger?”
He hadn’t. I shook my head.
“He would have these…strange sensations. They always came at night, right as he was about to drift off to sleep,” he told me, resting his chin on his arm like I was. “And without warning, he would feel this sudden pressure in his chest and throat. Like he couldn’t breathe.”
I stilled.
“It was always swift and sudden, causing him to gulp for air. He said the attacks would come in spells, several nights in a row, and then he’d have nothing for weeks. He used to fear that a sekya was visiting him.”
“A what?”
He glanced at me. “It’s a creature that can be found in the Abyss and engages in a particular form of torture. They sit on your chest and steal your eather through your breath.”
“What the fuck?” I muttered, shuddering.
Nyktos chuckled. “My father would never allow the sekya to leave the Abyss. Lathan knew that, but it was the only thing that made sense. It happened for years, but I never noticed until the one night I saw him do it—jerk as if he were waking up suddenly, gasping for air. Nektas was with us. Saw it, too. He taught Lathan similar breathing techniques to what I’ve seen you do.”
“Did he…did he know what caused the attacks?”
“Lathan was never sure, but Nektas said he thought it was anxiety. That even if Lathan weren’t thinking about anything when he was falling asleep, it was the things he thought about during the waking hours catching up to him when his mind was—”
“Quiet?” I whispered.
His gaze flickered to me again. “Yes.”
I faced the walls of the chamber, doubt beginning to creep in on me. “Are you trying to tell me that a godling had issues with anxiety? Or are you trying to make me feel better about freaking out for no good reason?”