Waking was like fighting my way through thick fog. Brief glimpses of memories were hard to latch on to, and they flipped endlessly through the misty nothingness. A missing woman. A beautiful Primal in a pale-yellow gown and a wounded, silver hawk. Hunters and entombed, hungry gods. A Hunter had scratched me, and it…did something. I’d been dizzy. There had been sudden, intense pain, and then I’d passed out.
The fog cleared as I came to, slowly becoming aware of lying on my stomach and having something soft under my cheek. A different taste gathered in my mouth. Bitter yet sweet.
I inhaled sharply, muscles tensing as I shifted my weight to my forearms, preparing to push up—
“I wouldn’t do that.”
At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, my eyes flew open and locked on the man sitting at the side of the bed. He had long, black hair—almost as long as the god Madis—and streaked with faint lines of crimson. It lay over the shoulders of his loose shirt, untied at the neck. I couldn’t peg his age. His features were broad and proud, only a hint of creasing at the corners of his eyes. He was all but sprawled in the chair, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, bare feet resting on the bed, and elbows propped on the arms of the chair, hands hanging loosely to the sides. I didn’t think anyone could look more relaxed, but there was an unmistakable coiled tension thrumming beneath warm, copper skin as if he could spring into action without warning.
As I stared at him, I realized three things at once. I’d never seen this male before. I was completely and utterly nude under a sheet that had been draped over me with no recollection of how that had occurred or why. And his eyes…they weren’t right. The irises were a shade of wine, his pupils were thin, vertical slits, much like…like Davina’s. My heart kicked unsteadily against my chest.
He was a draken.
The man wasn’t smiling or frowning. There was nothing soft about his features. He simply stared at me from where he sat. Tiny bumps broke out across my skin.
“The toxin in your body should be all cleared out by now,” he said. “But if you wish to sit up, I would do so slowly just in case. If you pass out again, it will probably disturb Ash.”
Ash.
This draken was the first person I’d ever heard refer to the Primal by his nickname. “Who…who are you?” I rasped, my throat hoarse and dry.
“We’ve met before.”
My heart pounded even faster. “On…on the road when I first arrived?” He nodded. “I’m Nektas.”
My gaze swept over him once more. He was a large man. Probably even as tall as Ash, but I still couldn’t imagine him shifting into the massive creature I’d seen on the road. I looked beyond him, past the polished column of the bed, where gauzy white curtains had been tied back. There were only shadowy shapes in the gloom of the room. “Where…where is Ash?”
“He is checking the tombs.” Nektas tipped his head slightly, and a long sheet of black-and-red hair slid over his right arm. “According to him, I am here to make sure you do not wake up and immediately get yourself into trouble.”
That sounded like something he’d say. “I don’t get myself in trouble.” Nektas raised a brow. “Really?”
I chose to ignore that. “Do I want to know why I’m nude?”
“The toxin was seeping out of your pores. Your clothing was ruined, and you were covered in it.” Ash didn’t think you’d want to wake in such a state,” he told me. “Aios removed your clothing and bathed you.”
Well, that was a relief. Kind of.
“What kind of toxin?”
“The kind that Gyrms carry in their insides. It spreads through their mouths and nails.” He still hadn’t blinked. “The black streaks on your arms were the first sign. By the time Saion brought you in, those marks covered your entire body. You’re lucky you’re alive.”
My stomach dipped as my gaze shot to my forearm. There were no streaks other than the faint pink scratch marks.
I suddenly remembered what Ash had said about the serpents that had come out of the Hunters. Their bite was toxic. He’d failed to mention the Gyrms’ nails were, as well. “How long have I’ve been asleep?”
“A day,” he answered.
My heart thumped heavily once more. “Why am I not dead?”
“Ash had an antidote,” he stated. “A potion once derived from a plant grown just outside of the Shadowlands near the Red River. The blister weed stops the spread of the toxin, causing the body to expel it. There is very little of the potion to be found. His choice to give it to you saved your life, which was a surprise.”
I honestly had no idea what to say to that. “You think he should’ve let me die?”
A close-lipped smile appeared. “It would’ve served him better not to have given you the potion.”
My gaze lifted to him. “Because he’d be free of the deal then?”
Nektas nodded, confirming that he was one of the few who knew about the deal. “He’d be free of you.”
“Wow,” I murmured.
“I mean no offense,” he replied. “But he did not choose this deal.” I held his unflinching stare. “Neither did I.”
“And yet, both of you are here.” Nektas lifted his brows. “And he saved your life when it only made sense to let you pass.”
There was a catch in my breath, making it difficult to follow Sir Holland’s instructions. “He probably felt bad,” I reasoned, unsure of why I was even speaking this aloud to the draken. “About the deal. He feels… obligated.”
A tight-lipped smile appeared. “I don’t think his decision had anything to do with that deal. I don’t think any of his recent decisions have.”
 |
Aios arrived shortly after Nektas had left me in a state of confusion. He’d stepped out onto the balcony, and I held the sheet to my chest as she retrieved an ivory robe made of some soft fabric, my thoughts spinning from one thing to the next.
Everything that Ash had done—was doing—was because of the deal. No part of me didn’t believe that Ash felt an obligation toward me—a sense of responsibility I hoped to exploit.
The bitter taste still lingered in my mouth as Aios brought the robe over to me. “How are you feeling?” she asked. Her face was paler than normal. Concern pinched her brow.
“Not like I’ve been poisoned,” I admitted, tying the sash on the robe around my waist.
“I suppose that is a good thing.” She grabbed several pillows, fluffing them and then propping them against the head of the bed. “I’ll get you something to drink.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.” Aios drifted toward the table, pushing up the sleeves of her sweater. “There are a lot of things I don’t have to do that I choose to do. This is one of them. Whiskey or water?”
I eased into the mound of pillows. “Whiskey. I could really use some whiskey.”
A small smile appeared. Picking up a crystal decanter, she poured amber liquid into a small glass then brought the drink over to me. “If this doesn’t upset your stomach, I imagine you’ll be able to handle some food shortly.”
I took a small sip of the smoky liquor, welcoming the bite as it traveled down my throat and blossomed in my chest. “Thank you.”
Nektas strode in from the balcony. “He comes.”
My hand trembled. The draken didn’t need to clarify who for me to know it was Ash. A nervous sort of energy invaded my senses, and I took a longer drink of the whiskey, downing half the glass. Swallowing, I glanced up.
Nektas stared at me.
“Would you like me to refill that?” Aios asked, grinning. “No. That would…probably not be wise.”
“Why?” the draken asked.
“I’m more likely to do something that would fall under the whole getting-myself-in-trouble bit,” I admitted. What came out of my mouth next had to be the liquor already loosening my tongue. “Is the other Primal still here?”
“No.” The grin faded from Aios’s face. “She is gone.” “For now,” Nektas tacked on. “She’ll be back.”
“True,” Aios murmured, glancing at the closed doors.
Neither of them gave me the impression that they were fans of Veses. Ector hadn’t either. When the doors opened, their reactions to the mention of Veses fell to the wayside. My entire being focused on Ash when he entered the bedchamber, especially that little ball of fuzzy warmth in my chest. I swore it buzzed happily as his gaze locked with mine.
I was also sure it wasn’t the whiskey that made up the little ball of warmth.
Aios and Nektas quickly made their way to the doors, but the draken stopped. “She’s worried about her alcohol consumption provoking her, allowing her to get into trouble.”
My jaw unlocked.
“Just thought you should be aware,” Nektas finished.
“Always good to be prepared,” the Primal murmured, and my eyes narrowed on him. A deep, raspy chuckle came from the draken as he closed the doors. Ash hadn’t taken his gaze off me.
I eyed him over the rim of my glass as I took a dainty sip. “I feel as if I’ve been wrongly labeled as a troublemaker.”
“Wrongly?” Ash approached the bed. He didn’t sit in the chair. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed beside me.
I nodded.
His gaze tracked slowly over my face. “How are you feeling? Minus the whiskey?”
“I feel…normal.” I lowered the glass to my lap. “Nektas told me you gave me a potion.”
“I did.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“You were going in and out of consciousness. I used a compulsion,” he said, and I inhaled sharply. “If I hadn’t, you would’ve died. But I am sorry for forcing you to do that. It was necessary, but force is not something I like to use.”
My gaze lifted to his, and a strange whirring sensation started in my chest that had nothing to do with the warmth or the whiskey. I thought of the friend he’d had to kill. “You’re being completely honest about that.”
“I am.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, thinking of what Nektas had said. He watched me closely. “Thanking me is not necessary.”
“I thought you’d appreciate a show of gratitude.”
“Not when it involves your life.” A tremor coursed through me, and I lifted the glass, taking another drink as Ash studied me. “Does nothing faze you?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You almost died, and yet you seem unbothered by it.” “Maybe it’s the whiskey.”
“It’s not.”
My eyes narrowed. “Are you reading my emotions?” “A little.” His head cocked. “Only for a few seconds.” “You should stop doing that, even for a few seconds.” “I know.”
I stared at him.
“I will.” A faint, brief grin appeared. “How did you get so strong,
liessa?”
Liessa. Did he call Veses that? I stopped myself from asking. “I don’t know.”
“You have to know.”
Glancing down at my nearly empty glass, I shook my head. “I…I had to be.”
“Why?”
I opened my mouth and then closed it. “I don’t know. Anyway.” I swallowed, changing the subject. “So…those entombed gods weren’t the only things in the Red Woods.”
“I figured that,” he replied dryly. “Why didn’t you tell me? I saw the scratches. I would’ve been able to do something before the toxin had a chance to invade your system.”
Did that mean he wouldn’t have gone back to Veses? “I thought you were already angry enough over the gods. Figured I could tell you later about the Hunters.”
He did not look as if he agreed with that decision at all.
“If I had known their nails carried the toxin, I would’ve said something,” I pointed out.
“If you hadn’t been where you weren’t supposed to be, it wouldn’t have been an issue.”
Well, he had a point there. “Just so you know, I tried to hide from them. They were heading toward the palace when they saw me.” My gaze flicked
up to him. “Why do you think they were here?”
“That’s a good question. The Hunters rarely have reason to come into the Shadowlands.” He studied me. “And you’re sure that’s the type of Gyrm you saw?”
I nodded as unease trickled through my system. What I’d done in the woods couldn’t have drawn them, could it? They had shown the night in the Dark Elms, after I’d healed the kiyou wolf. But how would they have even known?
I took another drink. “You went to the tombs?” “I did.”
“Did you figure out how they got out of their chains?” “Someone would’ve had to very carefully free them.” My eyes widened. “Who would do that?”
“My guards are good men and women. Loyal to me. More importantly, none would even want to attempt that, knowing that if the gods were able to find their way out, it would be a disaster,” he explained. “Other gods would do it, just to see what would happen. One of them could’ve been attempting to free a certain prisoner and changed their mind, resealing the tomb.” Ash paused. “If this hadn’t happened today, there is a good chance those who had been freed would’ve swarmed whoever opened the tomb next.”
“So you owe me a thank you?” “I wouldn’t go that far.”
I didn’t think so.
Feeling the heaviness of his stare upon me, I peeked over at him. Much like Nektas, he seemed at ease, but there was an undercurrent of dangerous tension. I thought of what I’d realized before the Hunters arrived and what he said about the Shadowlands while we were at the lake. “Why is everything so gray here—everything except the Red Woods? It wasn’t always like this, right?”
“No, it wasn’t,” he confirmed. “But the Shadowlands…it’s dying.”
Pressure clamped my chest. “Is it because the deal hasn’t been fulfilled?”
A frown pulled at his lips. “No.”
Surprise flickered through me. Then was this not like the Rot? I didn’t get a chance to ask.
“Why were you in those woods, Sera?” Ash asked. “I warned you about them. The portion that leads to the city is safe to travel, but that is all. You
should’ve never been in them alone.”
“I didn’t mean to,” I started and then sighed. “It wasn’t intentional.” “You walked into the woods. How is that not intentional?”
I couldn’t tell him about the hawk. “It wasn’t like I purposely set out to do it.”
“You didn’t?” Ash challenged. “Because I have a feeling there is very little you do without purpose.”
Irritation sparked. “I have a feeling you know very little about me if you think that is accurate,” I said. “I’ll have you know there is a whole lot I do without purpose.”
“Well,” he drawled, lips twitching. “That’s reassuring.”
“Whatever. I wouldn’t have been out there if—” I stopped myself. “I was bored and tired of being stuck in this place.”
“Stuck? You have all of this.” He extended his hands. “You can go wherever you wish within the palace—”
“Except your office,” I blurted, and there was nothing to blame but the damn whiskey for that. His eyes sharpened to a steel gray as I quickly added, “I don’t know if you’ve spent a lot of time in the library, but it’s not the most exciting place to be.”
“And you think my office is?”
I snorted like a little piglet. “I’m sure it was recently,” I said, lifting the glass, only to realize I’d finished it off.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded as I started to lean toward the nightstand. He took the glass from me, setting it down.
I raised my brows. “Really? I’m sure your office has been very
stimulating and charming.”
Ash sat back, a low laugh parting his lips. “Holy shit.”
“What?” I gripped the edge of the sheet where it pooled in my lap. “You’re jealous.”
Heat climbed up my neck. “I’m sorry, but I did not hear you correctly.”
He laughed again, but the sound ended too quickly as he leaned forward. “You’re actually jealous. That is why you went into those damn woods.”
“What? That is not why I went.” “Bullshit.”
My eyes widened as anger mixed with embarrassment, and unfortunately, whiskey. “You know what? Okay. Yes. I was jealous. You
have been too busy to even speak to me for longer than five seconds over the last couple of days, leaving me alone, like always. To walk the courtyard by myself. Eat dinner by myself. Go to bed by myself. Wake up by myself. I’m really starting to wonder what I did in this life to deserve always being alone.”
His eyes widened in surprise. Nothing that was coming out of my mouth needed to be shared. This wasn’t an act. A ploy. It was the truth, and I couldn’t stop myself. “The only time I see anyone is when one of your guards tries to inconspicuously follow me or someone brings me food.”
Ash’s jaw had loosened at some point, and I wasn’t sure what it was in response to, nor was I even sure exactly what I was saying anymore. I was like a volcano erupting. “So, yes. I’m stuck here, yet again, alone while my husband-to-be is busy doing whatever with a Primal, who acted awfully familiar with you. So, sure, I was jealous. Does that make you happy? Amused? Either way, all of that is so beside the point, it’s not even funny.”
He stared at me. “Why would you think you deserved to be alone?”
Out of everything I said, that was what he focused on? “I don’t know. You tell me. I have no idea. Maybe there’s just something wrong with me. Maybe my personality is a huge turn-off,” I said, starting to push away from the pillows. “I mean, I am troublesome and mouthy—”
“Whoa.” Ash shifted, placing his hand on the other side of my leg. His upper body blocked me from moving unless I wanted to attempt to knock him aside. “Can you stay seated?”
“I don’t want to stay seated. I hate being still. I need to move. I’m used to moving around, to doing something other than absolutely nothing,” I snapped. “And I don’t even want to be talking about this. I’m sure you don’t either since you’re so busy—”
“I’m not busy now.” “I don’t care.”
His eyes flared. “Then maybe you’d care to know that I don’t enjoy even a single moment in Veses’ presence.”
“Really?” I coughed out a dry laugh that caused my back to ache. “She is beautiful.”
“So? What does that matter when she’s as poisonous as a pit viper? Not only do I not trust her, I do not like her. She is…” A muscle flexed in his jaw once more. “She is of the worst sort.”
“Then why was she here?” Why did you allow her to touch you?
Somehow, I managed not to ask that, thank the gods.
“You already know. She heard that I had taken a Consort, and she was curious.”
“Why would she even care?” “Why do you?”
I snapped my mouth shut.
The eather brightened behind his pupils, and he was quiet for a moment. “I didn’t mean to make you feel…alone here. I didn’t know if you needed space or not, and I told the others to give you time. That’s on me.” He was closer, his scent teasing me. “But I have been avoiding you.”
I felt a sudden, sharp drop in my stomach. “Your confirmation of what I just said isn’t exactly necessary.”
“It’s not because you’re troublesome or mouthy. I actually find those traits to be oddly…alluring,” he said.
“Who in their right mind would find that alluring?”
“That’s another good question,” Ash replied, and I started to frown. “But I’ve been avoiding you because when I’m around you for longer than a few minutes, my interest in you quickly overshadows any common sense. And that is a distraction—a complication—I cannot afford.”
I felt a strange flip in my chest that I didn’t understand. “Bullshit.” “Is that what you really think?”
“I don’t know what I think, but I know words mean nothing.” I met his stare, and I didn’t know if it was my duty that fueled my words or something equally terrible. “So, as I said before, when it comes to your interest, you mostly talk, Nyktos. That’s what I—”
Ash moved so fast, one of his hands was on my cheek and his lips were on mine before I could even take my next breath. There was nothing soft and sweet or slow about it as his fingers splayed across my face. His kiss branded me within seconds, and I responded without hesitation, without thought. I gripped the front of his tunic and I kissed him back just as fiercely.
He shuddered and then rose, bracing his weight on his other hand as he came over me. Our bodies didn’t touch, but he kept me right there, propped against the mountain of pillows as my senses spun. His tongue rolled over mine, and a primitive sound rumbled from him as I followed suit.
He lifted his head, breathing heavily. “You know what the hardest part is, liessa? I don’t even know why I’m fighting this need. You would have me, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” I whispered without a hint of shame or guilt. It was the truth, even if there was no deal, no duty to be carried out. And that should’ve terrified me.
“I would have you.” His lips coasted over mine. A tremble coursed through me as the tips of his fingers trailed down the side of my throat and over my shoulder. “You would have me.”
Those fingers followed the vee of the robe, gliding over the swell of my breast. “Yes.”
“Then why can’t we?” His thumb swept over the pebbled nipple as he cupped my breast. “It doesn’t have to complicate things. It would probably make this agreement between us easier,” he mused as his hand slipped lower, away from my throbbing breast and down the slope of my belly. “Maybe then I wouldn’t have to worry about you wandering off into the Red Woods.”
“I didn’t wander on purpose,” I said, pulse thrumming.
“No. Just unintentionally.” He nipped at my lips as his hand slid between the halves of the robe. The feel of his cool flesh against my lower stomach caused me to gasp. “Open your legs for me, liessa.”
I obeyed.
“Will this be the only time you actually do what I ask without a fight?” “Probably.”
Ash’s chuckle teased my lips, his cool fingers slipping between my thighs, wringing a gasp from me. “Fuck,” he rasped, his lips brushing mine. “You are so gloriously wet.” He dragged his finger through the wetness in slow, teasing strokes and then eased it into me. I moaned, tugging on his shirt. “And you make such glorious sounds. They are like a song.”
My body quivered as his finger began to move. I started to move my hips, but his hand stilled. “Don’t.” He lifted his head, and waited until I opened my eyes. “Don’t move, liessa.” He eased his finger back in, as deep as it could go. “You may feel fine, but your body has been through a lot today.”
“I don’t think I can stay still.” My blood thrummed as his thumb swept over the bundle of nerves.
“Then we stop.” Ash’s gaze locked onto mine, and he added another finger, stretching me. “You don’t get to come on my fingers, and I don’t get to taste you again. You don’t want me to stop, do you?”
“No.” I fisted his tunic. “Then don’t move.”
Heart thundering, I watched him sit back. His gaze left mine and traveled slowly down, over the shallow rise and fall of my chest to where the robe had parted at my navel. He could see the most intimate part of me, and this was nothing like the moonlight-drenched bank of the lake, or even when he’d stood behind me in the bathing chamber. There was no hiding anything. Not that I wanted to. Not even because I was completely at his will and trying everything to stay still as he moved his fingers faster, swirling his thumb over the throbbing bundle of nerves. I watched him watching himself—his long, slick fingers thrusting between my spread thighs. I had never seen anything so…erotic in my entire life.
My body coiled tight as a breathy moan parted my lips. My hips jerked, and Ash clasped them, his fingers pressing into the flesh, holding me still. A quake hit me.
“That’s it.” His voice was almost guttural, a tone I’d never heard from him before. “I can feel you.”
His avid focus scorched my skin, turning my blood to liquid fire. Every point of my body seemed to tighten all at once. His fingers pumped inside me, and I started to shake. He let out a hoarse groan as I came apart, lost in the ripples of pleasure as my head fell back once more. Bliss swept through me, easing the taut muscles and clearing my thoughts. I didn’t become nothing, not in the way I was painfully familiar with. Not in the way that made me feel alone, unworthy and inhuman. Me. Whoever I was. But I was present, and the soft touch of Ash’s lips against mine was a reminder of that.
I was still there as he eased his hand from me and lifted it. I caught a teasing glimpse of his fangs as he drew his fingers into his mouth. My entire body reacted at the sight, clenching.
A grin appeared as he lowered his hand and then his mouth, kissing me, this time softly, slowly. There was something sweet about the shallow, almost tentative kisses. They were also wicked because I tasted myself on his lips.
I continued to sink into the pillows, body boneless as his mouth left mine. He brushed a strand of hair back from my face. “Thirty-six.”
My eyes fluttered open. “What?”
“Freckles,” he said, his cheeks…pinker than usual. “You have thirty-six of them on your face.”
That strange, whirring sensation surged through my chest. “You actually counted them?”
“I did.” Ash rocked back. “I did the first day you were here. I counted them again to make sure I was correct. I was.” He fixed the loosened tie of my robe. “I really hope there’s no doubt left when it comes to my interest in you.”
“There’s not.”
“Good.”
And it was good. I should feel good. His attraction to me was very real.
It was a step in the direction I needed to take. Still, unease bubbled.
His gaze lifted to mine, and the slow swirl of eather had an almost hypnotic effect. “I need to clean up and change.”
My brows knitted, and I started to ask why when he rose and I saw that his breeches were darker at his hip and pelvis. The material appeared damp. Had he…found release? My eyes shot to his. I hadn’t touched him. He hadn’t even touched himself.
A lopsided grin appeared on his full lips. “As I said, I hope there’s no doubt about my interest.”
I was at a loss for words as he walked to the doors joining our chambers. Ash stopped and looked back at me. “I’ll be back.”
I said nothing when he turned the deadbolt and opened the door, disappearing into the darkness of his chambers. Dumbly, I watched him close the doors, thinking it was strange that a lock and a too-thin sheet of wood separated our chambers.
Closing my eyes, I sank into the pillows. I didn’t think he’d come back, and right now, that was probably for the best. I didn’t…feel right. It had to be the whiskey and whatever was in that potion.
The soft click of a door a few minutes later drew my eyes open. I looked over, any and all thoughts fizzling upon sight of Ash.
He had cleaned up and changed, wearing some sort of loose black pants and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and the collar left open. His hair was damp and pushed back from the striking lines of his face.
And he had come back. Like he’d said he would.
My heart started thundering, beating so fast.
Ash stopped at the edge of the bed. “I know you should rest. I know I should…let you be, but I…” His chest rose with a deep breath. “If it’s okay with you, I would just like to be here with you. That’s all. Just be here.”
Throat dry and stomach dipping, I nodded. “That’s okay with me.”
He didn’t move for what felt like an eternity, and it made me wonder if he had thought I would refuse him. But then he eased his long body onto the bed beside me. He was on his side, facing me, and I might’ve stopped breathing as his gaze met mine.
“You okay?” he asked after a few moments had passed. “Yes,” I rasped.
One eyebrow rose. “You sure?” “Uh-huh.”
He grinned. “You appear frozen.” “Do I?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t mean to.” My cheeks warmed. “I just…I’ve never lain with someone before.”
“Really?” Doubt crept into his voice. “I assumed you had.”
“No—wait.” My eyes widened. “You mean have sex? Yes. I’ve done that.” I stiffened. “Does that bother you?”
“No.” He laughed, letting one hand rest in the space between us. “Then what do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve never lain in bed with someone. Slept or rested beside them,” I explained. “Ever.”
“Neither have I.” His eyes were a soft gray, the pulse of eather muted behind his pupils.
“Slept beside someone?”
“That. Or anything really. Not with Veses. Not with anyone. I’ve never
lain with anyone before.”
Even though I suspected he didn’t have much experience based on what he’d said at the lake, I was still shocked. I would have thought he had some experience. “Why?” I asked, then immediately cringed. “I’m sorry. That’s probably not any of my business—”
“I think it is,” he said, and that damn, strange whirl returned. He picked up the tail of my braid where it had fallen on my arm. “I don’t know. I just never really…let anything get to that point. It seemed too much of a risk to become close to anyone.”
A sharp pang of sorrow sliced through my chest, unwelcome but present. It might be related to the other Primals, but it felt more connected to what had happened to his parents.
I thought of the gods on the wall.
I thought of how Nektas was the only one I’d heard call him Ash. I had no idea if that symbolized anything or not, but he’d said it was a risk to become close to anyone.
“You have friends,” I said. “Ector? Rhain? Saion—”
He looked over at me as he drew his thumb over my braid. “They are loyal guards. I trust them.”
I was willing to bet that even though he’d referred to Lathan as a friend, it was probably nothing more than a word to him—no actual meaning behind it. The back of my throat burned as I stared at the scar on his chin. His life seemed as lonely as mine.
And maybe that was why I asked what I did. A question I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to, even if I needed it. “Why are you taking that risk now?”
Thick lashes lifted, and steel-gray eyes pierced mine. “Because I can’t seem to stop myself, even though I know better. Even though I know I’ll probably end up hating myself for it. Even though you will probably end up hating me.”
