Dika And Nyxoria

Dika And Nyxoria
❤️ Dika And Nyxoria ❤️

Tharros Castle:

Dika and Nyxoria stepped into the courtyard, the cool morning sun brushing against them as they prepared to fight. Dika pulled out a sword and tossed it to Nyxoria, who caught it with ease.

"Let’s play," Dika said, drawing her second sword and dropping into a fighting stance.

Nyxoria grinned, twirling the sword in her hand perfectly. "Oh, you're on," she said, stepping forward.

Dika didn’t waste a second. She lunged, her sword slicing through the air, but Nyxoria sidestepped effortlessly, smirking as she avoided the strike.

"You will have to do better than that," Nyxoria teased, flipping her sword and tapping the flat side against Dika’s shoulder.

Dika scoffed. "Oh, I was just warming up."

She faked a move to the left, then turned right, swinging low. Nyxoria barely dodged, her boots skidding on the stone courtyard. The clash of metal rang out, sharp and wild, as they exchanged blows, each strike more reckless than the last. But they were careful not to hurt each other.

The mixed guards, vampires, witches, fae, werewolves, and others, gathered to watch, murmuring among themselves as the two women fought.

Then, with a sudden, powerful swing, Nyxoria blocked Dika’s other attack and pushed back so hard that Dika stumbled back, straight into one of the castle’s stone pillars.

A loud crack echoed through the courtyard as cracks spread up the stone wall from the impact.

"Hope I didn't hurt you Dika?" Nyxoria asked in concern.

Dika winced a little, looking over her shoulder. "Oops. I am not hurting Nyxoria, it will take a lot of this to hurt me."

Nyxoria barked out a laugh. "Are you trying to bring the castle down, Dika? Count me in."

Dika lifted her sword with a smug grin. "I think it was poorly built, not my fault."

Both girls laughed, the tension of the fight melting into amusement as they continued their playfully spar.

†††

High Balcony – Castle:

Up on the high balcony, Tharros and Vyrelen watched the sparring fighting with interest.

"Your mate doesn’t even have her wolf yet, but she’s already this strong, my Emperor." Vyrelen commented, his arms crossed.

"It’s fun watching them," Tharros admitted before exhaling deeply. His eyes softened as they stayed locked on Nyxoria. "I can’t believe I almost destroyed that beautiful smile of hers. I should have explained myself instead of acting like an arsehole."

"It wasn’t your fault. I fueled your anger too," Vyrelen admitted, his gaze never leaving Dika. "I was blind, but now I see clearly, my Emperor," he added. The corner of his lips lifted up when he saw Dika dodging Nyxoria strike.

Tharros smirked slightly. "I can see that. You like my mate’s friend." 

Vyrelen’s lips twitched into a grin. "She kissed me, and I admire her guts."

Tharros chuckled. "Is that why you lied about the kiss being part of your tradition?" He turned his head, giving Vyrelen a knowing look.

Vyrelen shrugged with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I saw her and wanted her for myself. She wanted to fight me, that’s something I admire about her. She’s the perfect one for me, my Emperor."

"You’re just lucky no one else knows about your fake tradition except me," Tharros mused.

Vyrelen smirked. "That’s the only way to make her mine."

"Well, I know and I’m not telling her," Tharros said, shaking his head. "Besides, Nyxoria hasn’t told me if she’s forgiven me yet, but I’ll do everything in my power to make her happy."

"I know you will make her happy, my Emperor," Vyrelen said.

Tharros exhaled and turned back to the sparring match, watching Nyxoria move like she was born for battle. "Tell Sheba there’s no need for her to search for herbs. The priestess already healed my bride."

"I will do that, my Emperor."

Before Vyrelen could leave, Tharros voice turned serious. "Have you found out what I asked you to do?"

Vyrelen nodded. "I looked into it, my Emperor. It doesn’t just weaken the body, it also causes memory loss."

Tharros' jaw clenched. "Hmm, I wonder who would dare put that in my bride’s food. Is that the reason why she doesn't remember me or the death of her parents?"

"That might be the case but Mary, Nyxoria's maid, cooked the food," Vyrelen began, but Tharros cut him off.

"But she wasn’t the only one in the kitchen," he muttered, he wanted to speak more but remember the Priestess saying she didn't want Mary to prepare her food. His eyes darkened. "It’s Mary. Check her things and see if you find anything odd. It’s been a while since I’ve tortured someone."

Vyrelen nodded, already planning his next move.

"And what about the people I asked you to watch?" Tharros continued.

"Vyr hasn’t done anything suspicious lately, neither has Oberon."

Tharros wasn’t convinced. "If anything changes, let me know immediately. Keep an eye on Oberon."

"Of course, my Emperor."

Tharros exhaled, his fingers tapping against the stone. "The Nightweavers were slaughtered ten years ago, and we both know killing your kind isn’t easy. It’s like trying to kill me, it’s nearly impossible. So whoever that third person backing Oberon is, they must be the one responsible for their deaths. But still…" He frowned. "Something doesn’t sit right with me."

Vyrelen tilted his head. "What is it?"

"What weapon did they use to kill the rest of the Nightweavers?"

Vyrelen’s expression darkened. "I wasn’t there when the attack happened. I was with you, and Sheba and the other three weren’t in the village at the time and that's how we became the only survivors."

"I have a bad feeling about this, Vyrelen," Tharros muttered, his gaze shifting toward the courtyard where Nyxoria sparred with Dika. "Search Mary’s room."

Vyrelen nodded. The next moment, shadows curled around him, swallowing him whole before he vanished.

Tharros let out a slow breath, then, without hesitation, leapt off the balcony. He landed smoothly on the ground, barely making a sound.

His eyes were locked on his bride.

And he was walking straight to her.