“His death was not the only one owed that day. The fact that you still breathe is due to a grace you do not deserve.” She paled to the shade of my hair. “T-thank you,” she said, trembling. “Do not thank me. It was not I who saved your life. I wanted to take it. To put you where you belong, beside that bastard of a mortal you would’ve crowned King,” Nyktos said, essence rippling over his skin. “It was your daughter. For reasons unbeknownst to me, she told me no. That is who you should spend the rest of your undeserved life thanking.”
