Hex dropped the cuffs near Nyx's head, but didn't put them on. Instead, he climbed on to straddle his legs and opened the box. Inside was a paint brush and little pots of coloured lotions. He was certainly no artist, but he began to 'paint' Nyx's back with gentle, soothing brush strokes.

When he spelled HEX, it was large and unambiguous.

"Mine," he said with a smile.