I slept without dreaming of my lake or Ash. When I woke, things were better. Mostly. I was still sore, but the worst of the pain was gone.
And I was no longer laughing. That alone was a vast improvement.
What wasn’t good was that I wasn’t alone. Callum once more sprawled on the sofa. He’d been there since breakfast, but he was far less talkative as I forced myself to walk the length of the cage. I had to get the soreness out.
Sitting wouldn’t help, but I wasn’t sure moving helped with the other pain.
The ache that had taken up residency in my temples. That was a bad, bad sign.
I quickly shoved what it signified to the back of my mind when Kolis entered the chamber. I stopped, immediately emptying myself of everything that made me who I was.
Because I knew what I had to do.
It was something I’d thought about while forcing myself to eat and as I walked.
After everything, it was harder than before, but I had to. I needed to convince him to free Ash, which meant I had to behave as if nothing had happened the day before. That he hadn’t manipulated me into killing
Evander. Or forced Veses to do who knew what before finally putting an end to it—an act I’d bet he believed erased everything that came before it. Like all abusers and users.
But that was okay.
Because I would be smarter than before.
As the false King approached the cage, Kolis’s smile told me I’d won the wager I’d made with myself. “How are you feeling, so’lis?”
I clasped my hands like the Chosen often did, ignoring the tightness in my arms. “Rested.”
“I’m relieved to hear that.” His gaze swept over the golden gown I wore as he unlocked the cage. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you,” I said, my tongue withering as I recalled the Mistresses’ lessons. Become what they desire. With Kolis, it was more than being meek and submissive. I knew that now. It was all about making him feel justified in his actions. Most of all, it meant becoming what Callum had: a loyal lapdog whose sole purpose was to shower their owner with affection and gratitude.
“There is something I wanted to say.”
He halted at the open cage door. “Yes?” “I…I wanted to apologize for yesterday.” Kolis stared.
So did Callum.
“Everything has been quite overwhelming for me,” I began, seeing Kolis’s expression smooth out while Callum’s eyes narrowed. “A lot has happened—has been happening. All of this is so unfamiliar to me. I’m not
sure what I should or shouldn’t be doing, but none of that is a good enough excuse for how I behaved yesterday.”
“Your behavior is understandable, so’lis.” His eyes shone as Callum slammed his hands onto his hips. “You have been through a lot.”
“But you have given me such leeway.” I dutifully lowered my gaze. “And I have been disrespectful. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” His close voice was the only warning I got before I felt his palm on my cheek. He lifted my gaze to his. “Your apology is accepted.”
Behind him, Callum appeared as if he were a second away from running headfirst into a wall.
I fought a real smile. “Truly?”
“Yes. Truly.” Approval had settled into his features, causing his smile to become lopsided and more genuine. “Come. Let’s walk.”
Considering how yesterday had gone, walking anywhere with him was the last thing I wanted to do.
But it was what he wanted. And I would become that.
So, I joined him without protest. When he looped his arm through mine, I said nothing. As we left the chamber, Callum and Elias falling into step behind us, I nodded and smiled, my actions and reactions as hollow as his.
Kolis didn’t notice, though.
He was practically vibrating with joy when we crossed the breezeway and accessed the path that led to the colonnade. We entered the sanctuary, eventually passing alcoves full of breathy, heated sounds.
Kolis led us down the maze of halls, none looking familiar to me. We ended up passing through a pillared entryway and into a large sitting chamber of sorts with many ivory tapestries hanging on the walls.
“Sit.” Kolis extended an arm toward one of the gold satin divans.
Like a very good dog, I did as he instructed and took a seat, crossing my feet at the ankles.
Callum followed, staying near the entrance. He still looked like he wanted to run headfirst into something.
“There is something I want to show you,” Kolis announced as he entered. “I’d planned on doing it yesterday, but…well, yesterday no longer matters.”
As if he could simply decree such a thing. “Iason. Dyses?” Kolis called out.
I twisted toward what I had thought was a tapestry but was, in reality,
ivory curtains shielding an archway. The dark-haired draken I’d spotted in the Council Hall came forward with the Revenant. Between them was a Chosen.
Wait. What had he said yesterday? That he’d planned to show me he was capable of more than just death?
My stomach dropped. I suddenly understood what he was about to do.
“You don’t have to prove anything.” Breaking with my dutiful hound act in a heartbeat, my overused muscles screamed in protest as I shot to my feet. “I believe you.”
With a quick twist of his neck, Kolis cast an even, empty smile at me from over his shoulder. “You lie.”
I did, but that was beside the point.
“I do not fault you for believing such,” he added. “That is why you must know.”
“You could just tell me how they’re Ascended.” My heart lurched because I knew what he was going to do: create life by nearly ending it. Because this wasn’t the same as what Eythos did. “You don’t have to go to any trouble.”
“It’s no trouble.”
Pressure clamped down on my chest as my head swung back to the three.
My thoughts raced. I had a plan to free Ash: earn Kolis’s favor and trust. With my failed escape attempt and literally everything else that’d happened, I was doing a really shitty job at that. I needed to be careful and not incite Kolis’s displeasure, which I kept doing.
“This really isn’t necessary.” I tried again, hands spasming at my sides as I held myself back. The clap of Iason’s and Dyses’ boots against the stone, and the silent steps of the Chosen, were now like thunder. Dyses looked somewhat bored, but the draken…
Iason stared straight ahead, almost as if he saw no one. Once more I thought of how many draken in Dalos had been forced into bonding with Kolis. Was Iason one of those who, unlike Nektas’s cousin, would’ve chosen not to serve Kolis if given a choice?
“But it is.” Kolis turned to the Chosen. “Come,” he coaxed, beckoning warmly.
Breathe in. My body went rigid. The Chosen crossed the remaining distance, gloved hands clasped before their waist. Hold.
“Unveil yourself,” Kolis instructed.
Breathe out.
The Chosen lifted the veil, gradually revealing the fine features of a young man who couldn’t be much older than me. Hold.
“Jove,” Kolis spoke. A cowardly part of me didn’t want to learn his name. “How are you?”
“I am fine, Your Majesty.” Jove smiled, and gods, it reminded me of my smiles whenever my mother sent me to deliver her messages: practiced but empty. Just as I had been.
Breathe in.
“Today, you will be blessed,” Kolis said, cupping the man’s cheek. “Given new life.”
Jove bowed his head. “It is an honor.”
No. No it wasn’t. Because I heard his voice tremble. I saw the increasing thinness of his smile and the wideness of his deep brown eyes.
He was afraid.
I stopped with the breathing exercises and stepped forward. “Kolis.” The false King’s head cut in my direction. “Yes?”
“You don’t have to do this,” I repeated as the embers thrummed in my
chest. “I…I thought when you said you wanted to walk, it was to spend time with me. Alone.”
“We will.” Kolis stared at me for so long, I thought maybe he’d changed his mind. “But there are things I must see to. This is one of them.”
Jove stood completely still, his hands clenched tightly as dread flooded my heart.
“This is an honor,” Kolis said, and I didn’t know if he was talking to me or the Chosen. “Life can still be created, even if imperfect. And it must be. For without it, the very fabric of the realms would rip apart.”
I blinked. “W-what?”
“Close your eyes, my son.” Kolis fully shifted his attention to Jove.
The Chosen obeyed without hesitation. Kolis tilted the man’s head back, exposing the length of his neck.
He was going to bite him.
My hand went to my throat as the memory of the pain burned through me.
I couldn’t stand here and allow this.
Instinct took over, and I was suddenly moving toward Kolis and the Chosen before I was even fully conscious of what I was doing. Crossing the space, the essence built inside me as I reached out—
I gasped as Kolis’s other hand snaked out, capturing my wrist. “I
understand,” he said softly, his flat, cold stare locking with mine. “You’ve always had a kind heart, so’lis.”
I shuddered.
And then she shuddered.
“Even now, under this sharp, rough, and often abrasive exterior, your heart is soft,” he continued, my skin crawling from his touch. “You are a good person. I admire that. I always have.”
Kolis was wrong. I didn’t have a soft or kind heart. Nor was I a particularly good person. If I were, I wouldn’t have been able to do all the things I’d done how I’d done them. I couldn’t just stand by and watch this. There was a difference.
“You need to understand why this is important. What is and has always been at risk,” Kolis said. “He is either recreated in the image of the gods, or he gives life to another who will be. That is up to you.”
It took no leap of logic to know that giving life to another meant death for Jove.
“But make no mistake,” Kolis said, drawing me to his side with just the curl of his arm. I swallowed hard, but it did nothing to ease the rising bile of the contact with him and the knowledge of what was to come. “Balance must be maintained.”
There he was again, going on about his obsession with balance.
“That is more important than anyone in this space, including you.” He held my stare. “Even me. Because without balance, there is nothing.”
What he said made little sense. I inhaled a mere wisp of air. “Can you… can you make it not hurt?”
The eather stilled in his eyes, and his skin thinned. Coldness drenched me.
Saying nothing, he let go of my wrist and thrust me away from him. I stumbled but caught myself as he turned his head back to Jove. A heartbeat passed, and then Kolis’s lips peeled back. I saw a flash of his fangs, and then he struck, piercing the flesh of Jove’s throat.
My body jerked at the exact moment Jove’s did. I tipped forward as the Chosen went rigid, his eyes and mouth opening wide. A tremor started in my legs. I knew what kind of excruciating agony he was likely enduring.
Frantically, I swiveled around, scouring my surroundings for a weapon. My
gaze landed on the swords of those who remained as the embers flared to life, reminding me that—
A moan swiftly yanked my attention back to Kolis and the Chosen. The sound… My gaze went to where the Primal fed deeply from Jove. The Chosen’s lips were now only parted, his features slack and slightly flushed. I hadn’t heard a moan of pain.
It was one of pleasure.
Breathing raggedly, I pressed my hand to my stomach. A spasm jolted Jove as he exhaled another heated groan. Kolis wasn’t causing pain.
I watched, caught between surprise and agitation, as the Chosen gradually grew limp in the false King’s arms. I had known Kolis was capable of feeding without pain, but I also knew he was not kind. He’d shown that over and over.
But the Chosen wasn’t in pain. Ecstasy soaked his features. Still, this… I swallowed down the bitterness of bile. This didn’t feel right. I took a step back, somehow even more disturbed by what I witnessed now than I would have been if Jove had been screaming.
I’d asked Kolis not to cause pain.
He’d done this for me, but all I could think about was what I’d thought when I first saw Orval and Malka and what I had been led to believe with the god from Keella’s Court and Jacinta. All I could think about was how the last thing I’d wanted to feel when Kolis bit me was pleasure.
Oh, gods.
I’d asked Kolis to do this, and I knew this wasn’t okay, even if my
intentions had been in the right place. I just didn’t know how wrong it was. In this case, did the means justify the end? I couldn’t answer that.
Arms shaking, I backed up until I was nearly behind the pillow. My fingers curled against my stomach as my hands started to warm.
Jove was pale. He was dying.
Kolis jerked his head back without warning. “The process is fairly
simple,” he said in a thickened voice that reminded me of the overbearing
summers in Lasania and how he spoke of his need. “The blood must be taken from the Chosen right up to when the heart begins to falter.” He paused, catching a drop of blood from his lower lip with his tongue. “Then they must be given the blood of the gods.”
The act of Ascension for the Chosen was the same as Ash had spoken of.
A transfer of blood. “Your Majesty.”
Startled by Elias’s voice, I turned sideways.
“Come, Elias,” Kolis answered.
The guard passed me, not looking at me as he went to Kolis’s side.
Without saying another word, he lifted his wrist to his mouth and bit into his vein, drawing shimmery blood.
My gaze flew to Kolis as understanding dawned. Kolis couldn’t give the Chosen his blood, which was what I’d figured when he took me to the ceeren instead of healing me himself.
But what I didn’t know was exactly why he couldn’t. Ash was a Primal of Death, and his blood healed. Could it be because Kolis was the Primal of
Death?
I stood still as Elias placed his bleeding wrist over Jove’s mouth. The Chosen’s head was turned from me, but after a few moments, I saw his throat
bob in a swallow.
Shivering, I folded my arms around myself, barely feeling the sore pull of my muscles. I didn’t know how much time passed, but at some point, Elias had lifted the limp Jove into his arms.
“That was and is how it is done,” Kolis said.
As if coming out of a daze, I blinked. Elias carried Jove toward the curtained archway.
“Come.” Kolis didn’t give me a chance to respond, just took my hand. “I’ll explain more.”
Every part of my being rebelled against his touch as he led us back through the doors. We returned the way we’d come in silence, arriving at the cage in what felt like heartbeats.
Kolis and I were alone.
“When my brother did the Ascensions, the Chosen Ascended into
godhood.” Kolis’s upper lip curled, and then his expression smoothed out.
“Without the embers of life, they simply become the Ascended, as I told you before.”
Raising my hand—my left hand—to his mouth, he pressed a dry kiss to the top. “Those who are like gods but not. Sickness no longer plagues them. They may consume food, but it is not necessary. And they will survive most mortal injuries, susceptible to only a few manners of death,” he told me, his voice carrying a hint of pride. “But I’ve been working on a few drawbacks.”
“Like…?” I trailed off as he began leading me across the chamber, my heart spasming as we neared the bed. We passed it. He sat me on the divan, and I cleared my throat. “Like what?”
“They can become as strong as a god if given time, but so far, they have not been able to harness the eather.” He walked over to the table. New
glasses and fresh pitchers had been brought in during our absence. “They
have a strong aversion to sunlight.”
I thought about how Gemma had said the Chosen who returned remained indoors during daylight hours. My gaze flicked to the doors. Was that why
the part of the sanctuary I’d seen the last Ascended in had been so dark? “But
the sun is still out, and Jove was—”
“The aversion is not immediate. It takes a few hours.” he cut in, running his fingers over the linen draped across the table. “While they do not need food, they do need blood, and their hunger is…insatiable in the beginning. It’s difficult for them to control. Some do not learn such restraint. Any blood will suffice, but that which carries even a few drops of eather is preferred. It can help them manage the hunger.”
The dull ache in my head returned, pulsing at my temples. “And if they cannot manage their hunger?”
From where he stood on the other side of the table, his gaze lifted to mine. “They are put down.”
The way he said that, without any emotion, was more than unsettling. Gods.
“That bothers you.” He spread his fingers over the linen. “It shouldn’t. It
is for the greater good.”
Gods, my two most hated words, but hearing Kolis speak of the greater good was, well, so absurd it was actually amusing.
“Gods have been unable to control their bloodlust, too. They were also put down under Eythos’s rule,” Kolis said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone. “The only difference is that neither he nor those the god served bloodied their hands.”
“It was you?” I figured.
“I was the Primal of Death, after all,” he answered with a hollow smile. “Who else would carry out such distasteful deeds?”
He was still the true Primal of Death, and he knew it. But even I could admit that being tasked with such an act must have been terrible.
“Like Eythos, I’m creating life, not death. And an Ascended left uncontrolled is exactly that: Death. I give them a chance to restrain themselves. I do,” he repeated, his shoulders rising sharply. “But if they fail? They will glut themselves on blood. And once they’ve fallen into bloodlust, they are almost always lost. They will kill indiscriminately, draining their victims, and what becomes of them then is nothing more than the living
dead…” He pursed his lips. “It is not an act I enjoy, contrary to what others may believe. But I do not pawn it off on others. An Ascended who has given in to bloodlust must be killed, and it should be done by their creator.”
There was a whole lot of stuff there to process, starting with the fact that Kolis actually sounded as if he believed what he said: that he was creating life. And it seemed he truly cared about that life. There was also the idea that he thought of himself as the creator of these Ascended. But was he? He’d drained Jove, but Elias’s blood would ultimately Ascend him. However, what he said happened to those the Ascended fed upon and killed prompted my next question.
“How is an Ascended different than what you spoke of before? The Craven.”
“Well, one is still alive, and the other is not. They are like the Gryms,” he explained, and an image rose of the waxy-skinned once-mortals who had summoned a god and then offered their eternal lives in exchange for whatever they believed they needed so badly. “But one whose bite spreads a very different kind of toxin. An infection of sorts that will turn whomever they bite or scratch into the undead—if they survive the attack.”
My mouth dropped open. “That’s a pretty big drawback.”
“Yes, especially since those who are mortal—or more mortal than god— are susceptible to turning Craven.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Which means newly-turned Ascended are a danger to the Chosen.”
“If they are so dangerous, why was an Ascended left to feed on a Chosen?” I demanded.
Kolis’s eyes reverted to their cold, lifeless stare, sending a surge of alarm through me. “Well, because it’s not a danger we’re entirely unaccustomed to. What do you think happens if a god drains a mortal? Something similar. You could say it’s an even more virulent infection.”
I thought about the seamstress. Madis had left her place right before I found her dead. The problem was, she hadn’t stayed dead. And she also hadn’t looked like the one I’d seen here.
“And newly made Ascended are always under watch,” he continued in a tone that sounded like each word was chiseled out of stone. “However, a certain someone attempted to escape.”
Me.
He was totally talking about me.
“And those responsible for watching over the Ascended were drawn away,” he said. “Ironically, if they’d remained at their post, the Ascended wouldn’t have killed, and you still would’ve been captured. But they have been dealt with.”
I had a feeling being dealt with didn’t mean they’d simply been reprimanded. I should probably feel a little bad about that, but I couldn’t muster the energy when I still didn’t know how to process what had been done to Jove.
He wouldn’t die, but he hadn’t chosen to live as an Ascended either. It had been decided for him. Maybe he would’ve chosen to live no matter what, but he could’ve decided to die instead. I would never know. But what if he
was one of those who couldn’t control his hunger? And were the Ascended good or bad? Somewhere in the middle?
My brows knitted as I thought of something. Ash could go longer than he probably should without feeding. Was it the same with these Ascended? “What…what if an Ascended chooses not to feed?”
“They will weaken over time, becoming akin to mortal once more.”
I felt a skipping motion in my chest. “So, in a way, this kind of Ascension can be undone?”
“No.” His head tilted as he frowned. “Being akin to mortal is not the same thing. If they take no blood, their bodies eventually give out. The process of that is…” His frown deepened. “Admittedly, quite disturbing.”
Clearly, it was something he’d seen before. “There have been Ascended who refused to feed?” I surmised, the ache increasing.
“There have.” “Why?”
Deep grooves formed between his brows. “They were not grateful for the
blessing bestowed upon them.”
I stared at him, somewhat dumbfounded.
He straightened, drawing his hand from the table. “What? It is clear you’re thinking something. I want to know.”
I really needed to learn how to control my facial features. “It’s just that… Well, I was thinking that maybe they weren’t grateful because they didn’t want to become something that could turn into an indiscriminate killer.”
He laughed under his breath. “All gods are capable of becoming thus,
so’lis, and mortals are no different.” He sent me a long, knowing look. “And from what I know of your life this time in the mortal realm, you were no different.”
My shoulders stiffened at the truth of his words. He was right. I’d been no different.
I still wasn’t, which was kind of funny, considering the embers within me.
“Everything that is created or born has the potential to become an indiscriminate killer,” he tacked on.
I saw what he was trying to get at. “Okay.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s not okay.”
“I said it was.”
“I may not always be able to tell when you lie, but most of the time I
know,” he remarked, and I stiffened. “While I am not the Great Conspirator
spoken of in the prophecy, I am a Deceiver, a teller of lies. I recognize many of yours. This is one of them.”
He was the only being who could be the Great Conspirator, and maybe he could sense my lies, but as long as he didn’t recognize the really important one…whatever. My head hurt. “All right, then,” I said, taking a breath. I could deal with a headache. “I see what you mean about everyone having the potential to be a killer, but—”
“There is no but. I am right.”
I took a deep breath. “Never mind, then.”
He stared at me, his head lowering. “No, continue.”
“There is no point in continuing if you will automatically dismiss what I’m saying before I even finish saying it.” I took a breath. “Gods were born knowing they would Ascend one day. They have their entire lives to prepare for it. The Chosen do not.”
“They don’t?” His brows rose. “They are given to the Temples at birth and raised as Chosen. They spend their entire lives preparing to serve in Iliseeum and to Ascend. The only difference is they do not Ascend into
godhood.”
First off, that wasn’t the only difference. But not all of them were being Ascended. Some were being killed or turned.
But I could argue until I was blue in the face, and it wouldn’t change what Kolis believed, nor would it answer what I wanted to know.
“And you have to do this because of balance,” I said. “What exactly is this balance?”
“The balance is everything, so’lis. Without it, there is nothing.”
“I know.” I beat back my rising frustration. “You said that. But you haven’t—”
“The balance is everything,” he repeated. “And there is balance in everything. Or that is what the Fates say, at least. I tend to think their idea of balance is a bit…unbalanced.” Anger crept into his features. “Did you know the Primal of Death is expected to remain distant from anyone whose soul may one day pass before them for judgment?”
My eyes widened.
“Of course, you wouldn’t know that. The Primal of Death is not to have friends, confidants, or lovers among anyone who may need to be judged. The Arae believe that forming close bonds could ultimately skew judgment,”
Kolis stated. “That means any being that is not a Primal or a draken.”
I hadn’t known that. Did that also play a role in why Ash kept a wall up between him and Rhain, Saion, and all the others? Why hadn’t he shared this with me? Then again, there hadn’t been much time for me to learn the more intricate details of his duties when I spent half the time I’d been with him attempting to keep myself from growing close to him. It reminded me of when I’d asked him about his armies and plans. He hadn’t keyed me in on any of it because, at that point, I hadn’t expressed any real interest in becoming his Consort. Regret surged through me, joining what was sure to
become a long list.
“And yet, this was not expected of the Primal of Life,” Kolis continued. “There were no limitations, as if being in the Primal of Life’s favor couldn’t lead to poor judgment, even though the Primal god’s abilities were a collection of the other Primals’—a medley of the others’ goodness that could be exploited. Do you know how?”
I shook my head.
Kolis’s smile was more of a smirk. “My brother could bring rain to lands parched, but he could not wash those lands into the sea as Phanos can. He could help foster love between two individuals, but he could not twist it into hate as Maia is wont to do. He could capture souls, but he could not direct their path as Keella can.” His nostrils thinned. “He could grant fortune but not curse those with misfortune like Veses can. And he could ensure that a
hunt—be it for animal or the missing—was successful, but he could not weaken the bow or hide what one seeks as Hanan was able to do. When asked for advice, Eythos could stir duty within the most slothful character, but he couldn’t inspire blind loyalty as Embris can. He could breed peace and accord, but not war and vengeance.”
Kolis tipped back his head. “He could change any mortal’s or god’s life for the better if he wanted to, in whatever way he saw fit. But the Fates did not see that as something forming bonds with them could influence.”
“That doesn’t sound fair,” I said after a moment. “It actually makes no sense.”
Kolis eyed me, some of the eagerness easing from his features. “Then you and I are in agreement.”
That was a disturbing thought.
“But to the Arae, it does make sense, and ensuring that emotions would never sway me was how they believed those who hadn’t earned their paradise or punishment would keep from being rewarded with such. To them, eternity was far more important than what they saw as a temporary life, despite how shortsighted that belief was.”
More like how long-sighted it was. It was like looking upon the forest and being unable to see all the trees within it. “And neither you nor Eythos could talk to them about this?”
“For what purpose? To change their minds?” Kolis laughed, the sound bordering on mocking. “You do not change the Fates’ minds.”
Okay, maybe he was right. What did I know? Absolutely nothing when it came to any of this. “But what does this have to do with what you just did with that Chosen?”
“Because that, too, creates balance. One designed only to be known by the Arae, the true Primal of Life, and the true Primal of Death,” he said. “A balance that was established when the Ancients created the realms.”
Headache forgotten, I stared at him. “I thought Eythos created the realms.”
Kolis’s smile was harsh. “He created some, but he didn’t create the realms
—all the lands and oceans that allow life to foster and grow. The Ancients did. And contrary to what is told and believed, the Ancients were not the first of the Primals, nor will any Primal become an Ancient, no matter how old they become.”
I opened my mouth, but then it struck me. If the dragons—the ancestors of the draken—were here, something had to create them. It hadn’t been
Eythos since they already existed when he’d become so fascinated by them.
“And they also decreed that there must be death and vice versa. Just as every action has a reaction, one cannot exist without the other. And it would not be as simple as there only being life if there was no death, or only death if there was no life.” Kolis’s eyes flashed. “So, there must always be the Primal of Death and the Primal of Life, even if nothing more than a spark of embers
remains in them. Even if they are in stasis or…” His gaze flickered over me. “Or hidden within a mortal bloodline. As long as the embers exist in some fashion, and life is created and taken, the balance is maintained.”
“Oh,” I whispered, staring ahead but not seeing him.
He studied me. “I see you now understand the importance of life, even if it is undesirable to you. And that you see what I personally risk by not taking those embers.”
I nodded, but he mistook my shock. I’d always known what would happen if the embers of life were extinguished. It was what he’d unintentionally shared that shook me.
Kolis couldn’t be killed.
