“Thirty-six.”
His flesh was even cool underwater.
Water bubbled around us as I lifted my head. “Were you counting my freckles again?”
“Possibly.” Wet strands of his hair clung to the sides of his face and neck as he smiled at me.
We sat silently for a little while, lulled by the tinkling sound of the churning water. It was so peaceful here. I imagined the Vale was like this.
My stomach hollowed. “Can I…can I ask you something?” “Anything.”
I nibbled on my lower lip, struggling to ask what I wanted to know. It was
not something I had allowed myself to wonder about. “Liessa?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I took a reedy breath and searched for courage until I found it. “What…what will happen when I die?”
Ash’s chest rose sharply. “Sera—”
“I just want to know. Like will I be judged at the Pillars, or will my soul need the extra-special Primal of Death judgment?” I lightened my tone, even
as my chest felt tighter. “Better yet, will I have to wait in line?” He didn’t answer.
I opened my eyes to the wisps of steam whirling above the water. “I know
this isn’t the greatest topic of conversation.”
“It isn’t even something you should be thinking about.”
“I try not to, but it’s hard.” My fingers curled slightly. “Especially now. I just want to know what to expect.” I sat up, facing him. “And I don’t want to hear that I don’t have to expect it.”
Ash opened his mouth.
“We both know that’s not true,” I said before he could deny it. “And knowing just a little bit will…I don’t know. Maybe it will help me.”
A glow of eather appeared behind his pupils. “Will it help? Truly?”
I…I wasn’t sure. “Perhaps knowing will make things worse. Maybe it won’t. But it can’t be worse than this.”
He turned his head, and a line of sunlight glanced off his cheekbone. “I don’t know.”
“Ash.”
“I’m serious, Sera. I cannot answer whether you will pass through the Pillars or if you’ll need to be judged in person to determine your fate.”
I started to frown. “But—”
“I know what I said before, but I cannot see what that journey will be.
Just as I couldn’t see Lathan’s journey,” he shared, the glow pulsing behind his pupils. “It was hidden from me. As is yours.”
“Why?”
“The moment I considered Lathan a friend, my role in his eternal journey ended. It’s why—”
“The Primal of Death was not allowed to form bonds with another,” I murmured.
A streak of eather lashed out from behind his pupils. “Kolis told you that?”
I nodded. “If a…a bond is formed with another, the Fates balance it out by preventing the Primal of Death from knowing the journey of a soul or taking part in it.”
“Yes.”
“The Fates…” Thinking of Holland, I shook my head. “They’re bastards, aren’t they?”
His chuckle was low. “I have thought that many times.”
When Kolis spoke about it, I hadn’t thought it was fair, and that hadn’t changed. “And none of the other Primals are subject to those rules? Say if Maia were to become close with a mortal, would she no longer be able to interfere in matters of love or fertility?”
Ash frowned. “The others are subject to the same rules. Once they form bonds with mortals or gods, they cannot influence their lives in positive or negative ways.”
Irritation rose. “Kolis made it sound like only he was subject to that.”
“Of course, he did,” Ash said with a sneer. “He believes he is the only one who has been punished or suffered.” Another swirl of eather appeared in his eyes. “But my father—the true Primal of Life? As far as I know, he wasn’t held to those standards.”
My thoughts flashed to the anger I’d seen in Kolis’s features when he
spoke about all the ways Eythos could influence the lives of those he came to care for.
“Nektas once told me it was simply because the Primal of Life was held to a higher standard, tasked with the duty to know when and when not to impact the lives of others. Or to learn when. To me, it sounded more like being constantly taunted with the ability to improve one’s fate and having to choose not to.”
“Gods,” I muttered. “Who would want that kind of choice?”
“Kolis,” he suggested. “And he only wanted it because he never had to make it.”
I nodded slowly. Kolis had left out that he wasn’t the only one who had to operate by those rules, but I wasn’t surprised to learn that. Kolis didn’t care about the other Primals. He only cared about what his brother could and couldn’t do.
Settling back against Ash’s chest, I returned to what had started this conversation. “Then who judged Lathan?”
“If the Pillars could not judge him, then the Arae would have.”
Which meant they would likely judge me because I doubted the Pillars would know what to do with me. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing or if Holland would have any say in it.
“How does the water feel?”
“Amazing.” All the soreness had faded away. It had to be the heat of the water and maybe even a little of the magic of this hidden-away cavern.
Ash tucked the back of my head against his shoulder. “Better than your lake?”
“Yeah, it is.” I sighed, squeezing the arm that banded my waist. As I’d noticed before, his skin was even cool under the water, which probably stopped me from overheating. “But in a different way.”
His thumb moved along the flare of my hip under the water’s surface, sweeping back and forth. “How so?”
My gaze flickered over the softly churning hot springs. The fractured
beams of sunlight glinted off the surface as wisps of steam rose, tangling with the hanging lilacs. “My lake is…it’s refreshing, but this is relaxing. Like I could fall asleep.”
“Yeah. I think I could do that myself.” There was a heaviness to his voice as he dipped, kissing my temple. “I wish we could.”
I wished for so many things.
A knot threatened to lodge itself in my throat. I drew in a deep breath, hoping to alleviate it.
“We will come back here.” Ash’s lips brushed the curve of my cheek. “I promise.”
My eyes shut as that damn knot expanded. It was sweet of him to promise, but we would never come back here. I hoped he did, though, as I opened my eyes. I looked over the glistening outcropping of rocks and the lilac-covered walls as I thought about what I wanted for him when this was all over. A life. A future. Love. I hoped he made more good memories here.
Ash’s thumb stilled against my hip. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.” That wasn’t necessarily a lie. My stomach remained settled, and I didn’t feel like I would fall over, but I was tired. Though I didn’t think the warm water had much to do with that.
Ash was quiet for a moment. “Did I ever tell you what anguish tastes like?”
My eyes narrowed.
“It’s tangy, almost bitter,” he continued, straightening a delicate link on Aios’s necklace.
“Stop reading my emotions.”
“It’s one of the hardest emotions to block out. Sometimes, it’s even louder than joy, but it’s almost impossible to shield from yours.”
My nose scrunched. “Almost impossible?”
His chuckle rumbled against my back. “Almost,” he repeated. “I’m simply more…in tune with you than anyone else.”
I thought about that. Just a drop of my blood had allowed him to sense if I was in danger, even if he was in Iliseeum and I was in the mortal realm. He’d taken far more than a drop since then, so it made sense that his ability to read emotions, something he’d gotten from his mother, would also be enhanced when it came to me.
But did that mean he would feel what I felt when I…when I died? My chest clenched. Gods, I hoped not.
I couldn’t think about that, though. Only the gods knew what emotion he picked up when I did.
“I’m not sad,” I told him.
“Sera,” he sighed.
“It’s not what you think. It’s just that I wish…I wish we had more time.” “We will.”
I pressed my lips together as I nodded.
His chin grazed the side of my face. “You’re so brave. So godsdamn brave and strong,” he whispered. “There is no one like you, Sera.”
“Stop being…” I trailed off, my brows knitting. “Stop being sweet?” Ash said. “As I said before—”
“You’re only telling the truth.” The skin of my shoulders pimpled. My
dream came back to me in a rush. “I dreamt of you saying that.” “I know.”
I stiffened, then jerked upright before twisting in his lap to face him. “The dreams—”
“They weren’t normal dreams.” Tendrils of eather brightened his eyes. My mouth fell open.
“I should’ve picked up on it the first time,” he said. “Especially when you kept arguing that it was your dream.”
“I wasn’t arguing.”
That warm, soft grin returned. “You have such a strange understanding of the word arguing.”
“Maybe it is you who does?”
His lips curved up farther. “Either way, everything was too damn real.
The feel of the grass beneath me. The feel of you.” The hand at my hip swept up my waist as his gaze dropped to where the fizzing water teased the tips of
my breasts. His voice thickened. “The feel of being inside you. No dreams could replicate the beauty of that.”
My heart skipped a beat as I stared at him. “Everything did feel real. Both times—” The skipping motion moved to my stomach. “You told me to tell
Kolis that I needed you to Ascend, and to summon the Arae.”
“I did. It was the best plan I could come up with,” he confirmed. “I knew he would never let me leave with you, but it would’ve given us a chance to escape.”
Ash was right. Kolis never would’ve allowed him to leave with me. If it had come down to it, he would’ve just kept Ash there until my Ascension happened.
“In the end, you didn’t need me to get free,” he said, pride filling his voice. My cheeks warmed in response. “You had it handled.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said. “I never would’ve gotten out of Dalos without you.”
“I disagree. You would’ve found a way.” Ash leaned in, kissing me softly. “And I’m confident enough in my strength to admit that.”
Liking—no, loving—that he didn’t feel less capable due to my capability, I smiled against his mouth. “It was a good plan. It could’ve worked.”
Ash kissed me again, this time longer. When our lips parted, my pulse pounded pleasantly.
“You know,” I said after a moment, “I dreamt of swimming in my lake with a wolf watching over me. I dreamt that many times.”
“I think that was when I was in stasis.” His brows knitted. “I’m not exactly sure how, but all I can come up with is that part of me—”
“Your nota?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Attes told me about it one of the times he was able to get to me.” His head tilted. “Exactly how many times did he visit you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Like twice.”
“And he couldn’t free you?”
“You know he couldn’t,” I reminded him, but Ash appeared as if he were choosing not to remember that. Time to change the subject. “So, when I saw you in your wolf form, it was because…?”
“I think part of my consciousness—a part of my being—was still alert enough to find you.”
My mind raced, figuring out the timing. When I dreamt of the wolf and him, it had lined up with when he was in and out of stasis, but… “That wasn’t the first time I’ve dreamt of your wolf.”
A slight frown appeared, and then his expression smoothed out. “When you almost went into stasis while in the Shadowlands.” He gave me a small shake of his head when I nodded. “Damn. I thought that was a dream then, but it wasn’t even the first time…”
Wait. The first time.
“The first dream when you weren’t in your wolf form. When we had sex.”
I gasped. “We actually had dream sex?” My eyes widened. “Well, that explains a lot.”
“Explains what, liessa?”
“Why I could, you know, still feel you when I woke up.”
The tips of his fangs became visible as his smile turned almost smug. “Exactly how did you still feel me, liessa?”
“I could feel you—okay, all of that is possibly the least important thing to discuss right now,” I decided.
Ash chuckled. “I don’t know about that.”
Catching the teasing note in his voice, I felt a tiny catch in my chest.
Hearing him like this was—gods, it was too rare.
It was yet another thing I wished for: more moments like those.
I swallowed, pressing my hands flat to his chest. “I’ve heard stories about something like this. People who can walk in each other’s dreams.”
“Mates of the heart,” he surmised, and I felt a twinge deep in my chest.
“I…I’ve heard the legends of such.” I thought of my parents. “But that can’t be it,” I said before he could. “Then how is it possible?”
An emotion flickered across his face—too fast for me to decipher. “It could be because we’ve shared blood. That could be common among those who’ve experienced what we did.”
I started to ask how he couldn’t be sure, but who could he have asked?
He’d still been young when Kolis killed his father, and while I thought there had been some sort of friendship between Ash and Attes, they had kept some distance between them.
“Or it’s the embers,” Ash added as his thumbs moved in small circles along my ribs. “In particular, the one my father took from me and put in your bloodline. That could be what allowed us to connect in our dreams.”
The thing was, no one knew if that was the case or not. Well, maybe the Arae did, but what happened with the embers had never been done before. It
made sense. And it also made me wonder about other ways it may have formed a connection between us. Between the blood we’d shared and this…
Tension crept into my muscles as it finally occurred to me that this was one of the reasons Ash knew something had happened when I was held captive. How I’d reacted when he said he knew Kolis had hurt me. That was how he’d known what Kyn and Kolis told him while he was imprisoned
couldn’t all be lies. My chest twisted as I looked up. The softness and teasing
were completely gone from Ash’s features as he watched me.
Shit.
I needed to pull it together, and not thinking about all of that would be the first and most important step in doing so.
Forcing my thoughts elsewhere, I thought of my lake. And Ash, watching over me. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Of course.”
I smiled. “Why didn’t you tell me you could shift into a wolf?”
Thick lashes lowered, shielding his gaze. “I didn’t know if it would… disturb you.”
“Why would you think that?”
He shrugged one shoulder and cleared his throat. When his lashes lifted, the vulnerability in his expression struck me. “Most would be at least unsettled by another’s ability to change into a beast.”
“Some would probably be a little freaked out by it, but I’m not most people.”
“No,” he murmured. “You are not.”
“And a wolf is not a beast. A dakkai? Yes. That’s a beast to me.” I traced the line of his collarbone. “A wolf is beautiful.” My gaze met his. “You are beautiful in that form.”
“Thank you.”
I tapped my fingers on his skin. “I find all your forms beautiful. This one.
The wolf. When you go full Primal.” “Full Primal?”
I nodded, dragging my lower lip between my teeth. “When your skin resembles shadowstone, and you do that smoky, shadow thing.”
Eather intensified, churning wildly in his eyes. “I think I know exactly which part of the full Primal form you find so…beautiful.”
My cheeks flushed as my mind immediately flashed to the night Ash had been drawn to me as I pleasured myself. Those smoky tendrils of shadow energy he controlled were definitely beautiful. And wicked. And highly arousing. My stomach clenched in the most delicious way, just remembering that night.
Gods, I really couldn’t think of that right now, even if I was still so damn relieved and thrilled that I could. That I could feel desire. But other things needed to be handled. Important things that did not involve those scandalous wisps of eather or any of our body parts.
I squared my shoulders. “We probably need to get going.”
“Yeah.” He tipped his head back. “But you’ll need clothing to do so.”
Glancing around the cavern, I raised a brow. “I think we’re out of luck when it comes to that.”
“I’ll retrieve some for you,” he said, reminding me that he was so much younger than the other Primals and couldn’t manifest clothing like Attes could. “It’ll take a few minutes, if that. Enjoy a little more time here.”
That meant he would shadowstep. He was going to leave. My stomach pitched, and gods, I couldn’t stop the burst of panic. “I can put the gown back on.”
“I don’t ever want to see you in that again.” The eather whipped across
his eyes. “And it has nothing to do with the blood all over it. That is the only part of the gown I like.”
“Because it’s Kolis’s blood?” I guessed. He nodded.
“Savage,” I murmured, my fingers pressing into his chest. “What if something happens to you? What if you don’t come back, and I’m stuck
here? Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful, but I don’t think I can eat lilacs or
—”
“Nothing will happen to me. Nor will you need to eat the lilacs—and
please don’t attempt that.” A hint of amusement crept into his tone. “Nothing will happen. You are safe here, Sera. I promise.”
I knew I was. No one even knew about this cavern. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“You don’t need to worry about me, liessa.” He brushed the backs of his knuckles across my cheek. “It is unlikely Kolis has even begun to recover.”
Heart thumping, I nodded.
“It’s okay to be afraid.” He touched my lower lip. “But I would not leave you if I thought, for even one second, it was unwise.”
“I’m not afraid,” I lied yet again, and once more he knew it, because I was scared. Of not seeing him again. Of something going wrong. Of being alone. Of the gods only knew what else.
But I also never wanted to see the gown again. I did need clothing— preferably something that wasn’t see-through. And we also didn’t have time for me to have a breakdown.
“Okay,” I said, but Ash hesitated, his eyes searching mine. “I’m okay.” I pushed out of his lap, letting myself drift back into the water. “Go.”
“Only a few minutes,” he promised as he rose, rivulets running down his soaked leather pants.
The weight of the water caused them to hang low on his hips, revealing
the indents on either side. I bit my lip, reminding myself that while he looked indecently erotic, he had to be so uncomfortable.
“Make sure you get something dry to wear for yourself.”
One side of his lips kicked up. There was a flicker of white mist, and then Ash was gone.
Breathe in.
I looked around the dimly lit cavern. Hold. Other than the water, it was quiet. Breathe out. Exactly how far underground was I? Hold. Probably not the best thing to think about. Turning in the water, I nibbled on my lip as I crept forward, my heart slowing as the water gently spun around me. I stopped a few feet from the boulder Ash had pointed out. The water reached just above my chest as he’d said. I stood still, letting myself soak in the feel of the warm, frothing water. It foamed at my sides and beneath the surface,
bubbles dancing wildly over my hips and legs. I looked down, realizing I had crossed my arms tightly over my chest.
Gods.
I loosened my stance as I breathed in the sweet air. Above me, I heard the faint chatter of birds, and for a few moments, I just listened to them. How long had it been since I’d heard birds? Weeks? Even longer, actually. Outside of the hawks, there was no such life in the Shadowlands.
No such life…
Clearing my mind, I searched for Sotoria’s presence. I didn’t necessarily feel her, but I knew she was still there. “I…I don’t know what you’ve been aware of,” I said quietly. “But I’m going to get you out of me. You’re not going to be trapped.”
I felt a thudding sensation then, almost like a second heartbeat. It had to be her.
“We’re going to put you in something, and then…” Then what? My lips pursed as I eyed the scattered holes of light overhead. “I don’t know exactly how all this will work, but I know that Attes will make sure you’re taken care of, and see that you find peace again.” Emotion clogged my throat. “Okay?”
I didn’t hear her, but hearing her voice was rare. There was another soft, strange thud, and I took that as her acknowledging what I’d—
A sharp, pulsing ache came without warning, lancing across my face from my temples. Sucking in a gasp, I went completely still as a metallic taste filled my mouth.
Hand trembling, I parted my lips and gently prodded the roof of my mouth with a finger. I looked down. Blood dotted the skin.
I quickly lowered my hand under the water as I swallowed, wincing at the metallic taste on my tongue. The pang of pain receded to its standard dull ache.
Glancing back at the bank, I surveyed the shadows before letting myself slip under the surface.
Warm, rolling water rushed over my head and erupted into whirling bubbles all around me. I did what I always did when in my lake. I stayed
underwater, my thoughts emptying until there was nothing there. This time, though, I didn’t stay until my lungs started to burn. I didn’t get to that point because I felt the hum of a Primal. My heart lurched, even though I knew it had to be Ash. I pushed off the ground, breaking the surface.
Ash was a few feet from the edge of the hot springs, placing a bundle on an outcropping of larger rocks near the diamond. Immediately, I saw that he’d found himself some dry pants—dark brown breeches that fit his thighs and
calves like a glove, tucked into black boots.
Relief swept through me so fast that I let myself sink until the water bubbled at my chin. “That didn’t take long.”
“I thought to go to the Shadowlands, but I worried that would take longer than necessary,” he said. “So, I went to the Bonelands.”
I sucked my lip between my teeth. Obviously, he worried that I would freak out if he took too long.
“I was able to grab some breeches and a tunic for you. They’ll fit and be good enough for now. No shoes yet. Bele is on the hunt for them as we
speak.”
“Bele,” I whispered, rising from the water. I made my way forward. “How is she?”
Pulling something dark and long from the bundle, he faced me. “She’s… Bele.”
I laughed at that because it told me what I needed to know. She was fine. “And Aios?”
Ash went completely still. “She is okay, too. But she was not in the
Bonelands.” His lips parted as he watched me approaching the earthen steps. “She stayed in the Shadowlands.”
“Is it safe for her?”
“Yes.” His gaze moved as the swirling, frothing water dipped lower and lower, dropping first to my navel and then my hips, and then even lower as I climbed the steps.
A heady warmth gathered in my chest, moving down where he’d fastened his heated stare. I saw the tips of his fangs again. Intense pleasure darted through me, and…so did something else—something colder.
Ash’s gaze lifted, the wisps of eather in his eyes stilling. My heart stuttered.
“I also grabbed a blanket,” he said before I could speak. He came toward me, spreading it out. “To use in place of a towel.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling…gods, I didn’t know how I felt.
Ash was quiet as he began drying me off, wringing as much wetness from my hair as he could. I started to tell him that I could do it but then stopped. I thought maybe he needed to do this, and I enjoyed it—how gentle he was,
how thorough. It reminded me of another time.
I glanced at the wrapped diamond, cringing. I really hoped his father wasn’t so aware that he’d heard our earlier conversation. Or could see any of this.
Actually, it was probably best I not think about that. “Thank you,” I said when Ash finished.
He rose as our eyes met. “My pleasure.”
I smiled as he turned, tossing the blanket where I’d left the gown. As he walked past them, a spark ignited the small pile. My eyes widened as silver
flames washed over the blanket and gown, leaving nothing behind. Raising a
brow, I looked over at him.
“I really don’t ever want to see that gown again,” he remarked, picking up what appeared to be black breeches.
I quietly dressed as Ash pulled on a loose, linen tunic he must’ve grabbed for himself. It hung untied at the collar, leaving a tantalizing glimpse of his
golden-bronze skin. The breeches he brought were on the tighter side, but the
shirt was several sizes too large, easily able to fit him. It fell to my knees. Honestly, it could’ve doubled as a nightgown.
I lowered my arms, watching the sleeves flap several inches past my fingers.
“Cute,” he drawled. “Uh-huh.”
Joining me, he took hold of one sleeve and started rolling it up. “I saw
Elias while I was there. Only briefly. He said Attes should be arriving soon.”
“Good.” I breathed out, ignoring the pulse of pain skating across the back of my head. “Do you think he found Keella?”
“I’m sure.” He glanced at the diamond.
“We’ll have to…release your father before anything else.” I held still as Ash tucked the sleeve in at my elbow. “What do you think will happen when we do that?”
“His soul will be free.” Head bowed, he moved on to the other sleeve. “He should enter Arcadia.”
“Will you…will you be able to see him then? His soul?” “I should be.”
“Talk to him?”
“Souls don’t speak like we do. You may hear them in your mind.” He folded the sleeve up. “But I don’t know what will happen.”
“I hope you hear him.” I pressed my lips together. “Afterward, we need to remove Sotoria’s soul from me.”
“I’m not sure about that.” “Ash—”
He halted halfway up my forearm, his gaze lifting to mine. “I have no
idea how to remove her soul from you. We’re only assuming Keella can. That means she will likely have The Star when she does it and could try to take your embers.”
My brows flew up. “Delfai said the embers could only be taken if—”
“I remember what he said.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. “We don’t know if Keella knows that. Or if Attes does. Both could try something.”
“Ash,” I began. “Do you really think either of them will try something?
Keella is not a Kolis loyalist.”
“I’m not worried about her,” he muttered. “Attes? Different story.”
He finished with the sleeve. Perfect timing, too, because I crossed my arms. “You’re worried about Attes?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
“It shouldn’t be a question at all,” I pointed out. “He helped us escape, and he helped me before.”
“When did he do that?” Ash eyed me as I started to step back. He cupped my elbow. “Not yet.”
“I know you two haven’t had your little chat yet—wait, why do I need to stand still?”
Ash arched a brow as he reached on either side of my neck, slipping his hands under my hair.
“Oh.” I stood motionless as he began gently working my hair from where it was stuck beneath the shirt. “Anyway, Kyn was ordered to destroy the
Shadowlands to send a message and then take me. Attes intervened.”
“By taking you himself.” The air charged in the cavern. “To Kolis.” “It was the only way to stop Kyn from destroying the Shadowlands,” I
reasoned.
The look Ash gave me made it clear what he thought of Attes’s interference.
“Look, your father trusted Attes,” I said, trying another tactic. “Trusted him well enough that Eythos told him what he planned to do with Sotoria’s soul and the embers.”
Ash halted again.
“Attes has known this whole time, Ash. Wouldn’t he have told Kolis about Sotoria’s soul if he were loyal to him?” I said. “Wouldn’t he have said I wasn’t Sotoria? Because Attes also knew that whatever your father attempted did not entirely work. He knew I wasn’t Sotoria, and he had no reason to keep that information from Kolis, who likely would’ve come to the same conclusion I did. That if The Star is powerful enough to hold and transfer embers, it would be strong enough to do the same with a soul.”
That muscle running along his jaw ticked harder. “If Attes knew this entire time, why didn’t he tell me?”
“That’s a good question. I asked that myself.”
Ash had managed to get all but a few strands of hair out from under the shirt. “I’m sure he had an answer.”
“The Fates. They demanded that you never know of the plan. It was one of their ways to keep their precious balance. And, yes, that is really dumb, but Attes and Eythos feared that if they told you, it would end up turning back on you somehow.”
That muscle in his jaw worked overtime as he scooped a curl from where it was plastered to my neck.
“And he didn’t trust you.”
“That is the first easily believable thing I’ve heard.”
I sighed. “He didn’t trust you entirely. He never knew what you really thought of Kolis, which sounds hard to believe.”
“It’s not.” He moved on to the other side of my neck. “I told you. Even if I didn’t always fool Kolis, I could be very convincing.” He looked at me.
“None of that means I trust Attes in this.”
Frustration rose. “I sort of want to knock some sense into you right now.” “You can try.” He flashed me a grin.
I ignored it. “Attes hates Kolis, and you have to know why—what Kolis
did to him. To his children.”
Ash’s nostrils flared as he draped the last of my hair over my shoulder. “I know.”
“Then do you think Attes doesn’t want to see Kolis dealt with as badly as you do?”
His thick lashes lowered, shielding his gaze. “And Attes did what Elias did,” I tossed out.
The skin at the corners of his eyes creased. “He swore his allegiance to
you?”
“Yeah, even did the whole kneeling and speech thing.”
Some of the hardness left his features. “That’s…interesting.”
Rolling my eyes, I threw up my arms. “Attes has only done what Keella has, what you have. Survived while doing his best to prevent Kolis from getting what he wants,” I said. “And that is not just Sotoria. It’s the embers, too. He wants—or needs,” I corrected myself, “those embers.”
“So he can become a crazed, unstoppable monster?”
“Well, besides that. It’s the whole balance thing. Life has to be created to keep the realms stable, and what he’s doing to accomplish that is creating what he calls—”
“I know what he’s created. The Ascended,” he said, and surprise flickered through me. “The Revenants. He couldn’t shut the fuck up about them when
he came to tell me about the…” Tendons stood out along his throat. “When
he came to tell me that I would be set free once my anger was under control.”
I knew that wasn’t what he’d been about to say. It was when Kolis went to tell him about the deal. “Why did he even bring that up?”
“Because my uncle is a boastful fuck who takes his inability to create life like my father did personally and to the extreme.”
I nodded slowly, remembering how he’d reacted when he sensed that I didn’t believe he could create life. “Anyway, it won’t always work. He knows that. So does Kyn.”
Shadows pressed against Ash’s cheeks.
I quickly continued. “Kolis didn’t know he couldn’t Ascend me, but he still believed the whole thing would be dangerous. So, he planned to wait until I was in my Culling to take the embers. He didn’t know that I had already started my Ascension. And the only reason I can figure that it didn’t completely happen was because of what Kolis had Phanos do.”
His gaze sharpened. “What was that?”
I told him about the ceeren and their sacrifice, and I practically saw the wheels beginning to turn in his mind. “No.”
He frowned. “No to what?”
“I will not allow anyone else to give their life to extend mine. I know you’re thinking that.”
“Except it’s not just your life you’re extending, Sera. It’s thousands,” Ash countered. “Millions.”
My hands fisted at my sides. “But only temporarily. As long as the
embers remain inside me, the Rot spreads and does more damage. And…”
Ash went still again. “And what?”
“And I’m…I’m almost out of time,” I admitted. I didn’t think he took another breath. “I’m dying.”
“No.”
“I’m dying, Ash.” As I spoke, I donned that veil. I hated doing it with him, but I didn’t want the calmness I’d found regarding what was coming to crack and for him to feel anything from me. It would already be hard enough for him. So, I emptied myself as much as I could. “You have to take the embers, and you need to do it soon. I don’t have long—”
“You don’t know that.” Shadows thickened beneath his flesh, quickly erasing the warmer hues of his skin.
“I do, and so do you.” I cupped his cheeks. His flesh was so icy now. “My mouth—”
“Don’t say it,” he whispered—begged.
I had to. “My mouth has been bleeding. It was doing it just a bit ago when you left to get me clothing.” When he started to look away, I stopped him, keeping his eyes on mine. “And I no longer feel the embers in my chest, Ash. I feel them everywhere. In my blood. My bones. My skin.”
A shudder rocked him, and then I was in his arms, held tightly to his chest. He didn’t speak as I felt his heart pounding. He didn’t need to because he knew.
My Ascension had fully begun. And I was right. We didn’t have much time.
We likely didn’t even have a day. The end was upon me—us.
