The very air in the room seemed to stop. Kolis could…he could do that? “Has he now?” Nyktos’s voice was soft—too soft.
“He has,” Attes confirmed. “Since there hasn’t been a coronation in many years, he wants it to be more…traditional.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, my mouth dry.
Attes inclined his chin. “It means that Nyktos must gain Kolis’s permission to crown a Consort.” His gaze flicked to Nyktos.
My lips parted. “Son of a bitch.”
The wisps of eather swirled in Attes’s eyes as his grin returned. He dipped his head, dropping his voice. “Did you just call the King of Gods a son of a bitch?”
“Uh…”
Attes laughed even as Nyktos’s body went icy against mine.
“And when does he expect me to do this when the coronation is to be held tomorrow?” Nyktos demanded.
Attes’s grin faded. “There will be no coronation tomorrow. Instead, Kolis will summon you—both of you.”
It felt like the office disappeared around us. My heart started pounding.
I attempted to rise, but Nyktos’s arm remained firm around me. “When?” Nyktos bit out.
“When he is ready.” Attes smiled, but there was no warmth to the curve of his lips. No dimple. “That was all he said.”
“So, it could be tomorrow or a week or month from now,” Nyktos surmised.
“Basically.” Attes sat forward, his shoulders tensing. “You know, I think he would’ve done this even if a god hadn’t Ascended here. After all, you are his favorite.”
His favorite? I had a feeling Attes meant the exact opposite by saying that.
“Yeah.” Nyktos leaned back. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“As do I.” The Primal of Accord and War rose. He looked at me. “It was a pleasure to meet you.” Primal eyes lifted to mine. “If you find you’d rather spend your time in a warmer bed and climate…”
I stared up at him, somewhat dumbfounded. “Thank you for the offer, but not interested.”
“Too bad.” A dimple appeared in his right cheek. “But if you ever change your mind, all you have to do is call for me. I will answer.”
“Leave.” The promise of violence hummed in that one word. “Before you have to be carried out of here.”
Attes bowed in our direction, then left. The doors closed behind him. Neither Nyktos nor I moved or spoke for several seconds, but the temperature in the room had dropped even further. The arm around my waist and the hand against my thigh hardened. Shadows had bled to the surface of his flesh, and the breath I exhaled formed a misty cloud once more. I thought I saw tiny bursts of silver light throughout the space.
Shivering as the frigid air seeped through the gown, I touched his arm. Like I had the night of the draken attack. “It’s…it’s cold,” I whispered, my lips beginning to tingle.
Nyktos’s hand slid out from between my thighs, but the arm around me tightened. “Argue with me.”
“What?” I whispered.
“Argue with me,” he repeated, his voice full of smoke and ice. “Distract me. Something to stop me from going after Attes and taking my anger out on him. That will not end well for the Shadowlands or Vathi, and that’s the last thing we need.”
I twisted toward him. His eyes were nearly pure silver orbs. His jaw was as hard as the shadowstone walls. Churning darkness had blossomed across his cheeks. Eather lit the veins beneath his eyes, and the hardness in the stare fixed on the doors beyond me told me that he wasn’t exaggerating in the least. So, I did the first thing that came to mind.
Clasping his now-icy cheeks in my palms, I did what he’d asked of me when he held me in the sweetly scented tunnels of the Luxe.
I kissed him.
His lips—cooler than before—were still that strangely enticing juxtaposition of soft and firm as his entire body jerked. He didn’t pull away,
but he went completely rigid against me. He was as still as he’d been in the vine tunnel, and I did once more what I’d done then.
Catching his plump lower lip between my teeth, I bit him.
Not hard enough to draw his blood or hurt him, but, like before, he was no longer still.
I kissed him, but he devoured. His head tilted, and he parted my lips with a fierce stroke of his tongue. The sharp scrape of his fangs against my lips sent a tight shudder through me as his hand fisted the hair at the nape of my neck. He held me there, his kiss hard, demanding, and I loved his nearly immediate, raw response as I flicked my tongue over his. A rumble came from deep within his throat, his chest. He tasted as decadent as his blood, smoky and sweet, and I quickly lost myself in the kiss. In him.
My fingers slid back, sinking into the soft strands of his hair as I pressed against his chest, wanting to be closer. Needing it. Because he kissed me just like he had the first time. As if he wouldn’t let a single inch of my mouth go unexplored. As if he’d been waiting his entire life to do this. The thought no longer felt silly or whimsical. It felt like sinking under the surface of my lake. It felt like a wild sort of peace. It felt right.
And that scared me.
I broke the kiss but couldn’t retreat far. His hand was still on the back of my head, buried in my hair, and I was close enough to feel his cool breath coming fast and shallow against my tingling lips.
Only then did I realize that the temperature of the room had risen. “I hope that worked,” I whispered, swallowing.
His chest rose with a deep breath against mine as his hand eased from my hair. “I’m level.”
“Good.” I started to put some distance between us, but his arm around my waist remained as tight as before. “I’m still in your lap.”
“I know.”
“It’s not exactly comfortable,” I lied. I’d never felt more comfortable, which made me unsteady. Vulnerable.
“Neither are you.”
My brows shot up. “That was—”
“My dick was hard the whole time you were sitting in my lap,” he said. “The kissing didn’t help.”
“—rude,” I finished, blinking.
The shadows under his skin had slowed and were fading. “And here I thought getting my dick hard was what you were aiming for before Attes arrived.”
My mouth dropped open. “Not anymore.”
Some of the intense brightness eased from his stare. “Liar,” he whispered in the scant inches between our mouths.
I was such a liar.
His eyes met mine. “I had to behave that way.”
I knew immediately that he was speaking about how he’d acted in front of Attes. There were far more important things to discuss, but I said, “Really?”
“Attes is driven by three needs—peace, war, and fucking.” “In that particular order?”
A trace of a smile appeared. “In any order. If he so much as had an idea there was little attraction between us, he would’ve been more interested in you than he already was.”
“More interested? I don’t see why you’d think he was interested at all.” “You threatened to make him eat his eyes.”
“Exactly. If that gained his interest, it would be a little bizarre.”
“You stabbed me in the chest.” Nyktos inclined his head. “And threatened to claw out my eyes. That didn’t deter my interest at the time. What does that say about me?”
“Good question,” I muttered, not missing the at-the-time part of that statement. “But you started the whole removing the eyes thing.”
“I didn’t want Attes thinking that either of us would welcome him acting upon his interests.”
My eyes narrowed on him. “I don’t think you have to worry about me welcoming that.”
“Really? Did you not suggest mere minutes before his arrival that you were willing to seek out others to satisfy your needs?”
I gaped at him. “That is not what I said!”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what you said.”
“It was not—” I cut myself off. “Okay. Now, I’m annoyed. I hope you’re in control of your anger issues because if you don’t let me go, I’m likely to hit you.”
“I’m going to have to risk that,” he replied. “Because we need to talk about the shit Kolis just pulled, and there’s a good chance I won’t remain
level.”
“What does that have to do with me staying in your lap?” “Because if he loses his cool, he could hurt you.”
My head whipped toward the now-open doors. Nektas stood there, and he wasn’t alone. Ector was beside him. I didn’t even want to think about how long they’d been standing there.
“And with you so close to him,” Nektas continued, “he won’t risk it.”
I opened my mouth, but I really didn’t know how to respond to that. At all. So, I said nothing. No one said anything.
“We just ran into Attes,” Ector said, breaking the awkward silence. “Guessing what he said is true. Kolis is demanding you ask for his permission?”
“It is,” Nyktos confirmed, his forearm tensing under my fingers.
Remembering his reaction in the war room, I pulled my hand back. “Fuck,” Ector uttered.
I seconded that emotion as I glanced over my shoulder at Nyktos. “Did you know he could do that?”
“Gaining the King of Gods’ permission was a tradition back when my father ruled.” Nyktos leaned back in the chair, putting a little more space between us. “Primals and gods sought his approval before a coronation, hoping he would give his blessing. But Kolis hasn’t done it once. Nor has he ever shown any interest in such a thing.” The muscle along Nyktos’s jaw flexed. “But I should’ve expected this—that he’d pull this shit.”
After all, you are his favorite.
“He’ll use this as a chance to find out how the embers of life were felt here,” Nektas said. “I bet he’ll offer that in return for his permission.”
Ector’s amber gaze darted from me to Nyktos. “You can’t let him know the truth.”
“No shit,” Nyktos replied.
“But what will you tell him if that’s the case?” As soon as I finished asking the question, I understood. “Attes said that neither he nor the other Primals had forgotten who your father was or who you were meant to be. Kolis could think it was you.”
“That’s far better than him thinking it’s you,” he countered. I gaped at him. “No, it’s not.”
“Kolis would know it’s not Ash,” Nektas interrupted. “He’s already tested Ash enough to know that he has no embers of life in him.”
“Tested…?” I trailed off, thinking of the ink swirling over Nyktos’s skin. I knew as Ector looked away, rubbing his hand through his hair. I knew without even asking. Some of those drops represented those that Kolis had killed to see if Nyktos could bring them back to life.
Gods.
Nyktos had gone still behind me, and I hoped I wasn’t projecting and that he wasn’t reading me. I didn’t think he’d appreciate the sorrow I felt for him.
Nyktos finally spoke. “I would lie. I would tell him that I felt it, searched for the source, but haven’t found it.”
“He’d believe that?” I asked, looking back at him.
“I’ve had to convince Kolis of many things,” he told me. “I will convince him of this when he issues his summons—whenever he’s damn good and ready. Which—”
“Presents many issues,” Nektas finished. That was an understatement.
“Believe it or not, Kolis’s interference isn’t the only issue we’re now facing,” Nyktos said. “Not after Attes met Sera.”
I twisted back to him with a frown. “I doubt Attes thinks I’m anything more than a mouthy pair of breasts.”
Ector snickered.
Nyktos’s eyes flared with eather. “He was provoking you.” My scowl deepened. “When he called me an accessory?”
“Not then. Later. I could sense him using eather. He was feeding into your emotions, amplifying either calmness or violence.”
There was a reason Primals didn’t often enter the mortal realm. Their presence could change the moods and minds of mortals and impact the environment around them. The Primal Maia could evoke love and fertility. Embris could increase one’s wisdom or guide them into making poor choices. Phanos could stir the oceans into a frenzy. Attes’s brother, Kyn, could engender peace or vengeance.
“You really think he was trying to do that?” I asked, thinking of when the eather in Attes’s eyes had grown brighter. “To me?”
“Without a doubt,” Nyktos confirmed.
“But I didn’t feel calmer or more violent…than normal,” I said, and he huffed out a laugh. “I didn’t feel anything.”
“Exactly,” Nyktos said.
“Oh, shit,” Ector murmured. “Attes would’ve realized that his presence had no impact on you.”
A sharp slice of unease lanced my chest. “But Nyktos told him I was a godling—”
“Neither godlings nor gods are immune to a Primal’s abilities,” Ector said. “We don’t react to their presence as quickly or recklessly as a mortal might, but it would affect us if a Primal wanted it to. That’s why the gods in Kyn’s Court are a bunch of bastards, and the ones in Maia’s are a horny lot.”
My lips pursed.
“Besides the Arae and the draken,” Ector continued, “only one other would be immune.”
Nyktos’s gaze caught mine. “Only a Primal is immune to another Primal’s presence.”
“Good gods, that could mean…” I squeezed my eyes closed. It could mean that Attes might suspect the truth. That it was me who carried the embers of life. The Consort-to-be, who was about to be summoned by Kolis. My breath scraped against my throat.
“Give us a minute,” Nyktos said, and when I opened my eyes, both Ector and Nektas were gone, the doors closed once more. More than a few seconds passed in silence before Nyktos spoke again. “It’ll be okay.”
A strangled laugh left me. “Attes might now realize it is I who carries the embers of life. And Kolis is going to summon both of us. How in the world is that okay?”
“It could be worse.” “How?”
“Kolis could’ve outright denied the coronation. Forbidden that I take a Consort.”
“He can do that?”
Nyktos nodded. “I could still take you as my Consort, but you would not be recognized as such by the other Courts.”
Meaning whatever protection the position offered would have no longer existed. Neither the gods nor the draken could defend me against a Primal. If one of the other Primals or Kolis himself seized me, Nyktos would have no support if he retaliated—and I knew he would. “Will he do that?”
“If you asked me that yesterday, I would’ve said no. Now? Anything is possible.”
Anything…
My heart started beating in a way that made breathing difficult. My thoughts raced. Muscles tensed. “What if I…what if I look like Sotoria?” I whispered.
“He will not touch you.” Nyktos cupped my cheek, and my eyes closed at the faint trace of energy moving from his fingertips to my skin. “I will not allow it.”
The safety in his promise, the security of it, threatened to wrap around me. It was already beginning to calm my heart, and I didn’t want to fight it. I wanted to rely on the promise. On him.
Nyktos’s forehead touched my temple, and some of the rigidness eased from my muscles. I started to relax into him. “He will not have a chance to learn if you look like her.”
Eyes flying open, I jerked back. “Nyktos—” “You will not go anywhere near him.”
My stomach lurched. “You just told me what happened when one delays in answering Kolis’s summons. I will not be the reason for more death.”
“You have never been the reason.” “Bullshit.”
“Kolis has been the reason. Not you. Not your actions. It has been him. Always him.” Wisps of eather stirred in his eyes. “You need to understand that, Sera. You are not at fault.”
It was hard to accept that when Kolis had been reacting to my actions. Unable to stay still, I pulled on his hold. Nyktos’s arm fell away. I rose,
backing away from him. “I will not hide from his summons, Nyktos.”
His hand fell to the arm of his chair. “And I will not allow you to be in danger.”
“I’m already in danger! I’ve lived my whole life that way.” The crack in my chest threatened to spread and deepen as I stared at the empty bookshelves. “If my refusal to answer his summons caused something to happen—for people to be hurt or killed—I couldn’t…” I shoved the hair back from my face as I turned away from him. “I couldn’t deal with that.”
“Is that really why you are determined to answer his summons?” Slowly, I faced him. “What other reason could there be?”
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” His grip on the arm of the chair tightened, bleaching his knuckles. “To get to Kolis?”
I opened my mouth, but it struck me that I should be celebrating this. Not once—not from the moment Attes had delivered his message until now
—had it even occurred to me that Nyktos wouldn’t be forced into taking me as his Consort tomorrow. I could come face-to-face with Kolis without the risks of escaping. And if I looked like Sotoria, my duty would be even easier to achieve. Not only lives would be saved. Entire realms would be. I should be thrilled.
But I wasn’t.
I felt anything but that. A wild mix of emotion brimmed beneath the surface, causing the crack in my chest to weaken even further. I was scared. Horrified. Angry. Desperate. On the verge of losing control—
I sucked in deep gulps of air, shutting it all down. Silencing the storm much like I had when I donned the veil.
Nyktos hadn’t taken his eyes off me. His stare was as hard as it had been earlier. “This way, you wouldn’t have to try to escape, would you?”
The breath I took fell short as the back of my neck burned. “Fuck you.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. I thought he might have flinched, but I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t care. I turned stiffly, leaving his office before the
crack in my chest exploded again.
Before I lost control.
 |
Nektas was waiting in the hall when I stormed out of Nyktos’s office. I didn’t see Ector as I turned, walking past the draken. I swallowed a curse as Nektas fell into step beside me.
“Great. You’re following me,” I muttered. “You’re very astute, meyaah Liessa.”
I sighed.
“You don’t like being referred to as a Queen, do you?” “You’re very astute, meyaah draken.”
Nektas’s laugh was short and rough as I opened the door to the stairwell. “I didn’t know I was your draken.”
I started climbing the narrow steps far less grand than the main staircase. “Yeah, well, you’re my draken as much as I’m your Queen.”
“You are our Queen with or without a coronation.”
“That makes little sense, but whatever,” I muttered, reaching for the door on the fourth floor.
Nektas stretched his arm over my head, pulling it open before I could. “You carry the only true embers of life in you, Sera. You’re the Queen.”
I looked over my shoulder at him with a frown.
He eased past me, quiet as he led the way to my bedchamber. I watched as he entered the room and proceeded to go straight to the bathing chamber. He pushed open that door and inspected the space before going to the balcony doors while I stopped by the settee. There, he shoved the drapes aside and looked out.
“Do you want to check under the bed, too?” I suggested.
He turned, arching a dark brow. “Was Ash wrong? In doubting your motivations?”
“Gods,” I snarled. “Is eavesdropping a talent draken are particularly skilled at, or is it just something you’re really good at?”
Nektas stared blandly at me. I held his gaze.
“You want to know what I think?” “No,” I said.
“I’m going to tell you anyway.” “Then why did you ask?”
“I was attempting to be polite,” he replied, and I snorted. “He was wrong.”
I said nothing.
“But he was also right.”
“Well, your commentary was helpful, as always,” I said, shaking my head in frustration. “You know, the thing is, I don’t blame Nyktos for questioning that. Not really. But, honest to gods, seizing this as an opportunity to get to Kolis didn’t even cross my mind.”
“Then who are you more angry with? Ash or yourself?” “Both?”
He smiled faintly. “You can’t be angry at both.”
I looked away. “Yeah, but being angry doesn’t matter. What Nyktos believes doesn’t matter. What I want doesn’t matter. What does is the fact that Kolis one-upped us—probably without even realizing he did. Now, we
will both be summoned, and how can Nyktos convince Kolis that he has no idea how a god Ascended or that he doesn’t know it was Bele?”
“As Ash said, he’s had to convince Kolis of many falsehoods in the past.”
“Like what?” I asked, unable to stop myself.
“That Ash doesn’t hate him with every fiber of his being and wants to see him chained beneath the ground. Kolis doesn’t know that. He thinks that Ash is only testing his limits when he rebels against him or pushes back on something. Kolis believes that Ash is as loyal to him as any other Primal.”
Disbelief rolled through me. “How can Kolis not know the truth when he killed Nyktos’s parents? How can he even think for one second that Nyktos would be loyal after that?”
“Because Ash has convinced him that he feels nothing regarding his mother. That wasn’t difficult for Kolis to believe since Ash never knew her,” he explained. “And he’s convinced Kolis that he hated his father—that he considered Eythos weak and selfish. If Ash hadn’t been successful in hiding his true feelings toward him, Kolis would’ve done worse than what he did after he took the embers.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Kolis killed every god and godling that served under Eythos, ensuring that none could Ascend to replace the Primal of Life.”
“Good gods,” I whispered. “All of them?”
“Those who were not at Court were hunted down across Iliseeum and the mortal realm. Even godlings several generations removed from the Court, those who never went through the Culling, were slaughtered.”
I clamped my mouth shut against the rising bile. I didn’t know what to say, but I suddenly thought of the murdered mortals. The siblings and the babe. Could their deaths have been a result of that? Had Nyktos believed wrong? Or was it that he’d felt he couldn’t tell me at the time?
“If Kolis knew how Ash really felt about him, he would’ve killed every god here,” Nektas continued quietly. “Every mortal and godling. Chained every draken in the Abyss. Kolis would’ve leveled the Shadowlands.”
I sat on the edge of the bed.
“So, convincing him of this will be no different.”
“How…?” I clasped the bed column I sat near. “How can he be that convincing?”
Nektas’s crimson eyes met mine. “It’s the same thing that drives you to be so convincing. That it is his duty to do whatever is necessary to protect as many people as he can.”
I flinched. “I’m not pretending—” “I’m not talking about Ash.”
He was talking about Kolis—about the duty I knew was mine. One that would allow me to do whatever was necessary. I pressed my lips together. “But it’s different. Kolis hasn’t made any personal attacks against me. There isn’t history between us like there is with him and Nyktos.”
“There isn’t?” Nektas asked quietly. I stilled. “I’m not her.”
“No, but she is a part of you, Sera.”
Tipping my head back, I stared at the glossy surface of the ceiling. “Yeah, well, if I do look like her, and he summons us before Nyktos gets the embers out of me, we’re screwed. Everyone is screwed.”
“Then we must make sure those embers are not vulnerable for long.” I lowered my gaze to him.
Nektas watched me. “Why don’t you call him Ash anymore?” The question caught me off guard. “I don’t know.”
“That’s a lie.”
“How would you know?” I demanded, crossing my arms.
Nektas came forward, his steps surprisingly quiet for someone so large. “Ash is what his father called him.”
I hadn’t known that, and I didn’t think I wanted to know that now.
“For him to introduce himself as such to you meant something,” Nektas added.
“Maybe it did before.” Sighing, I leaned against the column. “But he’s not Ash to me any longer.”
His head tilted, the vertical slits of his pupils expanding until they were almost more commonly shaped. “He is how you wish him to be,” he said. “As you are what you wish to be to those of the Shadowlands and beyond. That is up to you. No one else.”
