Page 112 of Elas

“Sometimes, we drove for hours, sometimes days.” Nyx shakes his head, pursing his lips. “Places with power… nature,” he tries to explain, his brows pinching in frustration as he pats his chest. “I could feel it here. They wanted me to…” He hesitates, searching for the words. “Changeit.”

“Change what?” I ask, but he becomes agitated, shaking his head as his long fingers grip at the ground beneath him.

“I don’t know,” he whispers, burying his fingertips in the soil, and the grass seems to get thicker, more lush, underneath him.

“They didn’t tell you what to change?” I press, and a frustrated sound rips from his chest as his head shakes back and forth.

“Do it, they said. Change it. Fix it! They wouldn’t tell me. They would never tell me what I was doing. Just make it right. Do it… alwaysdo it. I couldn’t… didn’t know how. And they…” A whimper leaves his throat as his hands clamp around his neck, trails of dirt following his fingers. “I didn’t understand, and they wouldn’t… wouldn’ttellme.” His palms press against his temples, squeezing as his head thrashes. “I don’t know… I don’tknow.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Ronan tries to soothe. Panic stretches his eyes wide as he fights with indecision, unsure whether to get closer or give him space. “Nyx, how can I help?” There’s no answer, only a mournful whine forming in his throat.

Cameron clutches August’s arm as Ronan turns to me, helpless, then everyone stares as Reyes walks past us. He stops a few feet from Nyx, and the grass crunches under his weight as he kneels. Nyx doesn’t seem to notice his presence.

“Have you seen these?” Reyes asks in that same gentle tone from earlier. An odd plant is in his hand, with a clump of dirt hanging from the shallow roots. It looks more like a curled up leaf than a flower, with maroon and white stripes on a bright green background and a thick stem.

Nyx’s eyes dart over and his head stops shaking, though his chest still heaves in puffing breaths. Finally, he nods, and Reyes gives him a reassuring smile. “They’re called Jack-In-The-Pulpits, but I don’t really know why.” He lets out a soft chuckle, completely relaxed. Nyx’s hands drop from his face, leaving brown streaks of dirt to litter his mossy skin.

“I like them because they’re different,” Reyes continues. “Everyone else was always drawn to the colorful flowers. The pinks and yellows that stood out and demanded attention. This one was quiet, though—sitting in the shade of the forest and waiting to be seen.” He twirls the flower in his fingers, but Nyx isn’t looking at it anymore. His unwavering focus is fixed on Reyes.

“We could name them something else, if you want,” Reyes says. “Something just for us.”

Ronan reluctantly translates for Nyx, whose eyes still haven’t left Reyes. Carefully, Nyx nods, and Reyes flashes him another blinding smile. “What would you like to call them?”

“K-kat… katsurrel,” he whispers, his gaze flicking up to Reyes's hair and back to the flower.

“That’s beautiful,” Reyes says. “What does it mean?”

Ronan huffs a quiet laugh as we share a glance. “Curls. It means curls.”

Reyes’s grin turns radiant as Nyx hesitantly lifts the corner of his lips. It’s the first hint of a smile I’ve seen from him, and Cameron draws in a sharp breath. “That sounds perfect,” Reyes says. “I was careful with the roots, so we can put it back where it came from or you can find it a new home.” Nyx reaches out with wide eyes, and Reyes laughs as he hands the flower over.

“Mine?” Nyx asks in English, and Reyes nods.

“Yours.”

“D’ra—thank you,” he says, hugging the flower to his chest.

“Would you like some time alone?” Reyes asks, and after Ronan translates, potent relief crosses Nyx’s face.Reyes gives him another of those tender, comforting smiles. “That’s fine. You know that, right? That it’s okay to need time alone? Sometimes the world is too much for me, too.”

Tears well in Nyx’s eyes, and I’m hit with an immediate wave of guilt. We asked too much of him today. Nyx is as fragile as the flower he clutches in his hand, and even though he offered to help, we took more than he had to give.

“Thank you,” he whispers again, and Reyes gives him another patient smile before standing. The group walks back towards Ronan and Cameron’s house with our notes and sketches. I spare one last glance over my shoulder and find Nyx sitting where we left him, leaning against the tree with his eyes closed. His fingers drag over the blades of grass, and I swear the flower in his hand—thekatsurrel—is more vibrant than it was mere moments ago.

The dim dawn light brings with it an ominous sense of foreboding. The sun hasn’t even broken over the horizon yet, but its rays are reaching into the sky.

They steal the night I wish would never end.

Cameron rubs his eyes and stifles a yawn as he rests against Ronan’s side. The drive to Ljómur will take all day, and we should arrive near sunset. It’s intentional, because I suspect the base will be at its quietest then. Fewer peopleshould roam the halls, and most of the day’s work should be packed up and put away for tomorrow.

August speaks with Cameron and Reyes, and the heaviness he’s been carrying is gone, despite the danger we are walking into. “He makes you reckless,” Ronan says from my side, and I turn to give him a small smile.

“He makes me better.”

Ronan scoffs, putting his hands on his hips and glancing over the treetops into the faintest signs of powder blue that bleed into the sky. “If someone had told me months ago we’d be standing here today, I would’ve never believed them.”

My lips twitch at his annoyance. “You mean you wouldn’t have foreseen us on the run and actively rebelling against our own people?” His mouth pulls into a grim line as he finally meets my eyes again. “You and I both know this was always something stirring inside us. It just took a… catalyst to set it all in motion.”

“Catalyst,” he snorts, affectionately watching Cameron as our mates say their goodbyes. “More like a godsdamned hurricane.”

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