Taste the Dark by Tibby Armstrong

Author:Tibby Armstrong
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tibby Armstrong

Chapter 18

Nyx had taken off the transfiguration cuff.

Akito, dumbfounded at seeing the adult male version of his childhood friend, couldn’t stop staring. Sharp fae features that had been pixie-like on Nyx in female form, were now sculptured. The fae didn’t grow facial hair, so at least Akito didn’t have a five o’clock shadow to contemplate. It wasn’t that Nyx being a guy bothered him—hell, he’d known that all along—it was just that he couldn’t help looking for the feminine features he’d come to know so well. To top it all off, he had to figure out the new puzzle Nyx had presented—his parentage.

“But your father is the Morgan,” Akito said, finally finding his voice. “Isn’t he?”

How could Nyx be the Prince of Faerie? It would mean that he was the offspring of that obscene fae king—something Akito couldn’t believe, forget stomach. Though perhaps he was better than the Morgan.

“You.” Nyx rounded on Akito, pointing a finger.

Akito took a step back.

Bearing down on him, Nyx crossed the room in two steps. Akito reflexively recoiled, but Nyx grabbed him by the shoulders with hands that were both stronger and larger than Akito had remembered from their youth.

“How could you? How could you do this? To Ben? To me?” Tears sprang to dark eyes Akito knew better than his own. “To yourself?”

“I—” Akito began, then choked on his own wellspring of emotion. “Nyx—”

Nyx cut him off with a hug that stole his air. Rather than being engulfed by sweet perfume and a flurry of skirts and bells, he was enfolded in buttery soft green suede, the crisp scent of spring rain, and the pungent aroma of pine forests.

“Why?” Nyx whispered, over and over, hugging him. “Why, Akito? Why? Why? Why?”

Akito broke free, swiping at his eyes with the heels of his hands.

He spared the stern-faced Lyandros a glance, realizing he’d left whatever position he had been supposed to keep as the man’s tribute. Lyandros nodded, the small tilt of his chin giving permission for the interaction with Nyx. Akito moved to a settee large enough to fit both himself and Nyx and sat.

Akito leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands. He’d never thought he might have the opportunity to explain to Nyx why he’d jumped. Reflexively, he rooted around in his head for the Morgan. In the witch’s place, he found Lyandros’s quiet and unobtrusive presence. The feeling should have scared the piss out of him. Instead, for now, it reassured him—a pillar of strength on which he could lean.

“I don’t know where to begin.” Akito’s hands muffled his words.

“How about you start with why you threatened to tell the Morgan about my disguise?”

Akito lifted his head to find everyone staring at him. Lyandros had taken a position by the fire, his arm along the mantle. Isander slid his gaze to Nyx from the station he’d taken up by the door, his expression guarded. Nyx was where Akito had left him—in the middle of the carpet, looking small and large at the same time.

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