What is he?
Nyxthera POV
The morning started almost perfect—emphasis on almost.
I rolled over to the other side of the bed only to find it empty. Typical. James probably slipped out before sunrise like some knight in shining… khakis. Or maybe he was in the shower, whistling one of his god-awful tunes.
I stretched until my bones popped, yawning like a satisfied cat. Three months. That’s how long it’s been since I let this human lock himself into my immortal mess of a life. He didn’t even know it was a mess, of course. To him, I was just a mysterious woman with really good skin and slightly sharp humor. Lucky bastard.
I shoved my feet into my ridiculous bunny-eared slippers and padded down the hall. The second I turned the corner, I was hit with the warm, buttery aroma of pancakes. Huh. Domestic bliss. Who knew I’d fall for it?
“Hmm,” I muttered, tying my robe tighter. My eyes landed on James flipping pancakes like some smug Food Network contestant. My eyes fell on his back as he worked at the stove. Of course, he was humming. Humans and their random morning cheer .My hand reached for a water bottle on the counter, and without warning, I lobbed it at his head.
He caught it. With one hand. Without even looking.
“Sharp reflexes,” I scoffed, narrowing my eyes as if catching a bottle earned him bonus points. He turned, flashing that maddening smile of his, and I sauntered up to him, pressed a kiss to his lips, and pretended like I wasn’t secretly melting inside.
Living like this—like a human, like I was normal—was bliss. Dangerous bliss. If you asked me how long I’d stay with James, my lips would say as long as he is mine. My mind? Different story. I’m immortal. He’s… painfully mortal. Astrid and I had gone in circles about this. She told me to keep my truth tucked away until I trusted him fully.
Do I trust him?
Yes.
Do I trust him deeply?
…That’s where the panic starts.
“What’s on your mind?” James’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.
I blinked. “Oh, nothing. You’re up too early. Planning to run away from me already?”
“Ha-ha,” he said dryly, flipping another pancake. “I’ve got to see my dad. Some urgent thing came up.”
I pouted dramatically, leaning against the counter. “Where exactly?”
“Just… with him. It’s nothing to worry about.” He kissed my forehead like that was supposed to soothe me.
“Can I tag along?” I asked, tilting my head innocently.
He froze. I mean froze. Pancake mid-air. His face went through about five emotions before he settled on the polite-lie look. “Sadly, no, my love. You know my dad…”
“Right,” I drawled, folding my arms. “The great disapprover of relationships. Tell me, James, how long are you going to sneak around like a rebellious teenager?”
His jaw flexed. “It’s better this way. Trust me.”
“Oh, of course. Nothing says healthy relationship like being someone’s dirty little secret.”
“Nyx,” he warned softly.
I lifted my hands. “Fine, fine. Keep flipping your pancakes.”
Here’s the truth I haven’t told you—James’s father apparently doesn’t approve of him dating anyone. No explanation. Just… no. For months now. It’s pathetic, really. I’ve read enough magazines to know meeting the parents is step three in Healthy Relationships for Dummies. Clearly, mine doesn’t even make the chart.
James slid a tray toward me, neatly arranged with pancakes, syrup, fruit, the whole works. “Here. Keep busy today. Do something fun while I’m gone. I promise I won’t be long.”
I eyed the tray. “Bribery through carbs. Bold strategy.”
He smirked. “You shouldn’t pout like that. You know I haven’t met your family either.”
Ouch. Low blow.
I forced a laugh. “Yeah, except you do know I only have a sister, remember?”
“My point exactly. I meet your sister, you meet my dad. Fair deal.”
“My sister is conveniently in another country, James.” I stabbed a piece of pancake with my fork. “Your dad is conveniently in this city. Spot the difference.”
“Nyx…” He sighed, already checking his watch. “Let’s just stop.”
“Because you don’t have a good comeback, I know.” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “My sister is too far away. End of story.”
“And I respect that,” he said carefully.
“Yeah, sure you do.”
He was dressed and ready to go in record time. Me? I was sulking on the couch, legs up, breakfast tray balanced, flipping channels.
“I’m leaving,” he said softly.
“Enjoy your secret mission,” I replied sweetly.
He bent, kissed my lips—damn him—and left. The door clicked shut. Silence.
Two minutes later, my phone buzzed with a video call. Astrid.
Perfect timing.
I swiped and nearly choked. She was lounging in a tub full of floating flowers like some goddess-influencer.
“Seriously?” I burst out laughing.
“Good morning, sissy,” she sing-songed. “Why do you look pissed?”
“Why do you look like you’re filming a perfume ad?” I shot back.
She smirked. “So… James causing trouble?”
Astrid always had her claws sharpened for him. Just in case.
“No, not really,” I muttered, stabbing my pancake again.
“Then why the storm cloud face?”
I sighed. “He still won’t let me meet his dad.”
Astrid’s eyes narrowed instantly. “Up till now? That’s insane. What’s he hiding—let me guess, his dad is… what? A serial killer? Mafia boss? Secret cult leader? A vampire hunter? A tax accountant?” She cackled.
I groaned. “Not funny. Okay, maybe a little funny. But it feels like he’s hiding something from me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever it is, it feels like I’m being hidden. And I don’t like being hidden.”
“Then snoop. You’re good at it.”
“If I wanted to snoop, I would have already found out.”
“But you haven’t, which means you’re scared of the answer.” She smirked.
“Shut up.” I shoved a pancake into my mouth.
“Try finding out,” she said casually, swirling water with her finger.
“If I wanted to, I would…” I muttered.
“Mm-hmm.” She raised a brow. “And you know if it’s something big, you can call me. Anytime. Any day.”
“I know.”
“Has he figured out you’re not exactly… human?”
“No.” My voice softened. “I can’t tell him that yet.”
“Good.”
“Thanks for the encouragement,” I deadpanned. “So, what’s new with you and your lovers? Any dramatic forest runs lately?”
Astrid chuckled. “Actually, yes. Had a run last night. Felt someone else’s presence out there. Didn’t catch them, though.”
I smirked. “If you want to find out, you will. You’re stubborn like that.”
“True.” She tilted her head.
“But I will be always here if you need me, just place the call.”
“So tell me… if I call you for help, you’d actually leave your little human boy toy and show up? I mean even when you're fucking him?”
I laughed. “Crazy bitch—but yeah.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
We talked about rumors of another academy, about her headmaster planning some human-world immersion. She dropped it all casually while adjusting her flower crown like it was normal conversation.
“Sounds chaotic,” I said. “Just… please don’t let me be the awkward supernatural they bump into while I’m trying to play housewife here.”
“And, please,” I wagged my fork, “don’t you dare show up where James could see. He’ll probably think I’m in a cult.”
She laughed, eyes glinting with mischief. “Whatever you say, cult leader.”
“I mean it, Astrid.”
Astrid smirked. “Don’t worry, you’ll meet James’s dad before you meet us. Promise.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll believe it when I see it.”