Wrapped in the fur I’d left Nyktos’s chambers in, I ran a hand over the soft blouses and sweaters hanging in the wardrobe, the leggings as thick as breeches, pants like the ones Nyktos and the others often wore made of soft leather, and vests, tunics, and gowns as silky as the array of undergarments I’d discovered in one of the drawers. There were so many colors, both pastels and vivid shades, and they were all mine. If the clothing Erlina had finished was any indication of her talent and taste, the coronation gown would be stunning.

Peace.

My heart started that wild staccato again as I dropped the fur and picked up an undergarment that seemed to be designed to cover as little of my private bits as possible. I started to pull on the scrap of lace, freezing when I laid eyes on said private bits.

Through the dusting of pale, fine hair, I saw that the skin Nyktos’s fangs had sunk into was red, but there were no puncture wounds. I pressed my fingers to the flesh, feeling the two shallow indentations. Frowning, I lifted my hand to the side of my neck, where the bite had already faded. It had taken a couple of days for the marks on my neck and breast to fade, but hours for this one? That didn’t make sense. Had something been different?

Making a note to ask him about it later, I tugged the new dressing robe from the hanger and pulled on the plush material dyed a dark blue-gray. Fastening the buttons along the side of my waist, I went over to the balcony doors. The sky above the crimson woods was a darker shade of iron, the stars brighter and plentiful but not as vivid as when night had fallen. However, it could not be much longer until it was night—a few hours, if that.

More tired than I should’ve been after napping, I retreated to the chaise and snuggled deep into the soft material of the robe after taming my hair

into a braid. What Nektas had said entered my thoughts. Not the stuff that had to do with peace, but the part that I knew Nektas had been right about.

I hadn’t given Nyktos any real indication that I was interested in anything beyond what he planned to do with Kolis and, well…me. Before the courtyard, I’d never mentioned attending Court or being of use. I’d asked about his army and his plans, but that was it.

And, gods, now I felt like an ass because before Nyktos had learned the truth, he’d given me space because he hadn’t wanted me to feel overwhelmed. It was very likely that he’d been doing the same now, waiting for me to give some sort of indication that I wanted to be an actual Consort…outside of the bedchamber.

In my defense, there hadn’t been any reason to think of a future until recently. But still, I cringed all the way to the tips of my toes. And I closed my eyes as I tried to figure out exactly how to make it very clear to Nyktos that I was interested in learning more about Lethe and the Shadowlands. Asking seemed simple enough, but I’d spent more time learning how to kill someone than understanding the basics of open, honest communication. Or how to overcome this…feeling of vulnerability that came with being open. I wasn’t even sure if it was normal to worry about asking or saying the wrong thing like I often did. Or that I couldn’t get my thoughts, which sounded so right in my head, to come out of my mouth the same way. Would it sound silly? Would whatever I said come back to haunt me? To hurt?

Talking things out always sounded easy, but the anxiety that the mere idea of it drummed up also seemed insurmountable.

But did I want to be…more? Not just his Consort but a real Consort to the Shadowlands?

As I lay there, asking myself that over and over, I must’ve drifted off. The next thing I knew, I felt a warmth buzzing in my chest. I opened my eyes, startled to find Nyktos crouched by the chaise.

“I was beginning to think you were never going to wake,” he said. “I knocked a couple of times and called your name when I entered.”

“Sorry.” I cleared my throat, sitting up as I glanced down to where his hand rested between his knees. My cheek still tingled from the touch. “I can’t believe I fell asleep again.”

Concern pinched his features as his gaze swept over mine. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” I rubbed at the back of my neck, working at the kink there.

“No signs of a headache or any jaw pain?”

I shook my head, dropping my hand to the chaise. “I guess I’m just tired.”

That worry seemed to increase in his stare. “I shouldn’t have…” “What?” I asked when he didn’t finish.

“I shouldn’t have taken from you earlier,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “I should’ve known better—”

“I didn’t mind,” I cut in.

“I know you didn’t.” The eather pulsed behind his pupils as his voice roughened, sending a shiver over my skin. “But that’s beside the point. I didn’t take a lot from you, but the Culling already takes enough of a toll on your body. If you do start to have a headache, I want you to tell me. We can stop it from getting as bad as before.”

“I will.” I didn’t want to feel that kind of pain again. “So, I wasn’t imagining the whole biting me part then?”

His head cocked. “No.”

“I have questions about that.”

Two deep splotches appeared in the center of his cheeks as his shoulders tightened. “You do?”

I nodded as I watched the blush spread across his face, thinking how cute it was. “There was no bite mark left behind…”

The tension eased from him. “That’s because I closed the wounds.” My brows shot up. “Come again?”

“I closed the wounds,” he repeated. “With my tongue.”

I vividly recalled the hot, slick slide of his tongue as he’d eased his fingers from me. Now, my cheeks warmed. “How is that possible?”

“I nicked my lip and drew my blood,” he explained, the color of his eyes deepening. “Just a drop was on my tongue when I ran it over the wounds. So, in reality, my blood healed them.”

“Oh,” I whispered, suddenly finding the soft robe far too thick and heavy. “Why didn’t you do that before?”

“My blood will only heal the bite I created. I couldn’t remove traces of Taric’s bite without you drinking from me, and that would’ve required more than just a drop.” His jaw hardened. “But before that? After I bit you?” He frowned. “I don’t know why I didn’t.”

“Interesting,” I murmured, and he raised a brow. “Anyway, I’m okay. I thoroughly enjoyed that bath. It was a surprise—a very nice one. As were

other things.”

“Other things?”

Like what came after. The talking. What he’d said as I fell asleep. I couldn’t make myself say any of that, though, no matter how hard I tried— or how much I wanted to push past the feelings of vulnerability. “You were very good at what you did with that tongue.”

Nyktos stared at me. There was no flash of smug, male pride. Just a faint flush and a look of surprise as if he couldn’t believe I thought that. He cleared his throat. “I fear the food will grow cold if we linger any longer.”

My gaze swung to the table by the balcony doors, where only one covered dish usually sat.

Tonight, there were two.

My breath snagged at the sudden thumping of my heart. Two covered dishes. Two glasses. A bottle of wine.

“You said you didn’t want to eat your suppers alone,” Nyktos began as I stared at the two plates, a knot lodging in my throat. “It’s late, so I thought you might not want to go to the dining hall,” he added in the silence. “But if you changed your mind or would prefer other company, I can—”

“No. Don’t leave.” I lurched to my feet so fast my face turned the shade of the Red Woods. “I mean, I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Glad to hear.” A faint grin appeared. “Otherwise, I was starting to feel rather awkward.”

I didn’t think it was possible for him to feel as awkward as I did just then. I hurried to the table like I was afraid he’d be the one to change his mind. And I was. I busied myself with getting seated. “How was Court?” I asked, praying to the Fates that this wasn’t one of those moments where I was projecting my emotions all over.

Nyktos followed far more sedately, taking the seat across from me. “Nothing too eventful.” He leaned over, lifting the lid from my dish and then his. “A handful of minor complaints between neighbors.”

“I’m kind of surprised that such things are brought before a Primal.” I unfolded my napkin, placing it on my lap.

That grin of his returned, deepening as he picked up the bottle, showing a hint of fang. My stomach twisted in the most distracting way as he pulled the cork, and an aromatic, sweet scent hit the air. “I’m actually glad they bring these issues to me.”

“You are?” I watched him pour the deep red wine into our glasses.

“Yes.” He picked up a carving knife as he relaxed into his chair. “It means they’re comfortable enough to do so. That they don’t fear me, and they feel safe enough to come to me.”

“I didn’t even think about that.”

“Were the people of Lasania not comfortable enough to bring such concerns to the King and Queen?”

“They used to be. They’d hold town halls where things could be voiced or asked for.” I eyed the fine tendons of his hands and fingers as he finished carving the thick breast, pushing the slices into a neat pile beside the glistening mound of vegetables. “But as the Rot grew worse, the complaints got louder, and more things were requested. They stopped the town halls. The protests began shortly after.”

“And how was that received?”

“Not well,” I admitted. “The Crown dealt with the protestors quite severely. And instead of stockpiling food or moving farms to lands untouched by the Rot, they did nothing.” Old anger returned. “They waited for me to…”

“Stop the Rot?” He set his knife aside.

I nodded. “So, they did very little to prepare in case I failed.”

“You didn’t fail, Sera,” he said, drawing my gaze to his. “Becoming my Consort wouldn’t have stopped the Rot.”

What he said wasn’t new. I knew that the moment I learned that the Rot had nothing to do with the deal. But what that meant, what Eythos had done, didn’t fully set in until now. I sucked in a sharp breath. “I haven’t failed.”

His brow rose. “That’s what I said.”

“No. I mean, you know how Holland talked about the different threads

—about my duty?”

Nyktos’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re talking about going after Kolis—” “Not that.” At least, not now. “I can still save Lasania simply by staying

alive long enough to transfer the embers to you. That will stop the Rot.” He eyed me. “I believe we already discussed that, Sera.”

“I know. It’s just—I don’t know. It didn’t really hit me until now,” I said. “I guess I’m just used to…”

“Blaming yourself?” he said, and I shrugged. “Because your family blamed you?”

“Ezra never did,” I whispered.

“And this Ezra, she will rule better than the ones before her?”

“Yes. She already is. Ezra is the Queen they deserve.” I smiled as he lifted his plate and stretched across the table.

“I expect you to live longer than the time it takes to transfer the embers to me, by the way,” he said. “And I suppose I will discover for myself just how deserving this stepsister of yours is.”

“I can visit her?”

“That’s what you want, is it not?” “Yes, but…”

His gaze flicked to mine. “We will go tomorrow, but we cannot linger long. I’ve been lucky at times in the past, but others can feel my presence in the mortal realm. It’s a risk.”

I thought of the creepy Gyrms that had found their way to my lake, but they had been looking for me and not him. “I know.”

“And you must be selective in what you share with her,” he continued. “I know you may want to tell her the truth about Kolis, but that kind of knowledge will be a death sentence for her if discovered. You can speak to her about the Rot, but not the cause.”

“I understand,” I said. “I don’t want to endanger her.” “Good.” He switched out our plates. “Eat.”

I glanced down at my plate and then to the one he’d taken, befuddled. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know.” He began carving the untouched piece of chicken. “And before you point this out, I know you’re more than capable of cutting your own food, but there was far more meat to that breast than this one, and you’ll need all the protein you can get.”

My brows pinched as I glanced between my neatly carved pile and the one he worked on. They looked nearly identical in size and quality, but the intent behind his actions was…it felt thoughtful, not infantilizing. So, I stopped myself from making a caustic retort.

“You may not feel it, but your body is using a lot of energy as it ramps up for the Ascension.”

I thought about how I’d dozed off after waking up and picked up my fork, shoveling several chunks of meat onto the thin tines. I was definitely feeling it. “Thank you,” I murmured.

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“Well, I did.” I ate the forkful of chicken as I peeked at Nyktos. His head was bowed, the hair I’d cut in the courtyard brushing his jaw. The grin was there again. Peace. I squirmed in my seat. “And what of the Pools of Divanash? Have you given any thought to that?”

“I have.” He chewed his food as neatly as he carved it.

Trying not to get my hopes up, I took a sip of the sweet port wine. “And?”

“And it’s also a risk,” he said. “That hasn’t changed.”

“Just because it’s a risk doesn’t mean something will happen.”

He raised one eyebrow as he looked over at me. “True, but I’ve learned to be cautious—overly so.”

I bet he had.

“But,” he continued with a deep breath, “we have no idea when Kolis will summon us. It could be tomorrow. It could be a week from now or even longer. Time isn’t a luxury.”

I nodded in agreement. “But maybe Kolis delaying the coronation is a blessing. It will give us some time to remove the embers before Kolis summons us.”

“I’ve considered that, even before this afternoon.”

I speared a carrot. “But you were being overly cautious?”

His glass partially hid his smile. “I talked to Nektas after returning from Court,” he continued, and I really hoped the draken hadn’t mentioned what he’d said to me. “He’s on board.”

Excitement hummed through me, but I was still cautious. “Are you on board?”

“I don’t like the idea of you being out there without the protection of the title, whether that is here or in the mortal realm.” He set his glass down while I tried not to attach any deeper meaning to what he’d said. “And it’s not because I’m trying to control you—”

“I know,” I cut in, and I did.

“I’m relieved to hear that. I’ve feared…” “What?” I asked when he didn’t finish.

“I’ve feared that this situation we’re in could make you feel that way.” Nyktos stared at his glass. “That I’ve made you feel that way because I’ve used my authority to stop you from doing what you want, and I…” His brows furrowed as he shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

I stared at him for what felt like a small eternity, unsure what to say. He had used his authority to stop me from doing a pretty long list of things— stuff that would have likely resulted in me being injured or ending up dead. “There is a difference between someone trying to control you and someone trying to protect you. I know I may not behave like there’s a difference, but I do know there is one.”

Nyktos’s softly lit eyes lifted to mine.

“There just needs to be a balance, you know? When the need to protect what’s valuable doesn’t get in the way of what needs to be done.”

He nodded slowly. “I’m discovering that balance is not easy to find. But I’m on board. We have plans for tomorrow, it appears, and Nektas will be unavailable the day after that, but in two days, you will go to the Pools of Divanash with Nektas.”

I tried to fight the smile, but there was no stopping it from spreading across my face. There was no hiding it from him either. His eyes had lightened even more, and I wondered if he was aware of how they’d changed.

Nyktos’s gaze flickered away as he took a long drink of his wine. “Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat, “I heard Erlina brought by the clothing she made. Were you pleased?”

“They are all beautiful.”

“Hopefully, they’re less distracting.” “They are.”

“Thank the Fates.”

I leaned back in my chair, eyeing him over the rim of my glass. In the loose, untucked black shirt he wore and with his hair free, he reminded me of how he’d been when I’d been with him beside my lake. A powerful, otherworldly being, but not one that existed outside my reach.

He is how you wish him to be.

It was hard not to see him as Ash in these quiet moments. “I have a question for you,” I said.

“Ask away.”

“I’m not sure I should. I feel like manners dictate that I not.”

“You have never struck me as the type to give much thought to manners.”

“I have been known to pay heed to manners a time or two.”

His eyes warmed as they settled on me. “What is your question?”

I took another drink of what I hoped served as a wee bit of liquid courage. “I’m surprised that you’re here.”

“That doesn’t sound like a question, Sera.”

The way he said my name… Muscles low in my stomach coiled even tighter. “You’re right. It really wasn’t a question. More of a statement. I just didn’t think you’d have dinners with me.”

“I was under the impression that you didn’t believe I would meet any of the demands you made today,” he said.

“Am I that transparent?”

“Usually, you are not. But in this, you are as transparent as a window,” he remarked.

I rolled my eyes.

“Joining you for supper is a small thing,” he added. “And an easy one to accommodate.”

“That has to be the first thing you’ve done with me that you’ve found easy.”

His eyes met mine. “It’s not the first thing.”

Silence stretched between us, and it felt like time slowed to an infinite crawl as I took in the softening of his gaze and the harsh lines of his features. He started to tilt forward and then caught himself. Clearing his throat, he looked away, breaking whatever strange spell seemed to have fallen over us.

In the quiet, I searched for something to say. Luckily, I remembered something Attes had said yesterday. “Were you friends with the Cimmerian? Dorcan?”

His attention shifted back to me. “I told you before. I have no friends.”

He had said that, but I thought of his guards and Nektas, who considered him family. “Did he consider you a friend?”

“I cannot answer that.”

“But you knew him,” I persisted.

Nyktos shifted in his chair, his attention dropping to his glass. “I’ve known him for a while. He wasn’t always a part of Hanan’s Court.”

That was more of an answer than I expected. “You said that he could’ve chosen another’s Court to serve. But he said that wasn’t possible. Why was he serving under Hanan if he was part of Attes’s lineage?”

“Attes is not just the Primal of War. He’s also the Primal of Accord. He prefers agreement over discord, so Vathi is mostly peaceful. At least, his

half is,” he explained. “The Cimmerian can get a bit…antsy if there’s no blood to spill, so many leave Vathi to serve in other Courts. Hanan has a lot of them.”

“Because Hanan is a coward and needs others to fight for him?”

Nyktos chuckled roughly. “Hanan loves the hunt if he is not equally matched. So, yes, that was a rather on-point observation.”

I cracked a small grin as I tugged the edge of the napkin to my chin. “It’s strange to me that a Primal can be a coward.”

“Strength and power only go so far, and it rarely changes a person for the better.” Nyktos dropped his hand to his chest as his words caused a shiver to curl down my spine. “Anyway, Dorcan likely pledged a blood oath to Hanan—one that can only be broken by death. That would be the only reason he couldn’t leave Court. Stupid move on his part. I would’ve expected him to be smarter than that.”

“That’s a strange thing to expect from someone you don’t consider a friend,” I murmured.

Nyktos snorted.

I nibbled on my lip, telling myself to stay quiet, but I had to know. “You have friends.”

“Sera—”

“Denying that you do doesn’t change the fact that people care about you. Nor does it change that you care for them. It’s okay to have friends.” I could practically feel his gaze drilling into me. “But I’m sorry that you had to kill another.”

Nyktos was quiet.

“You wouldn’t have had to do it if he hadn’t seen me,” I admitted. “It would’ve inevitably happened.”

Was that the true, foregone conclusion? That there would be more death? If it came to war among the Primals, it would be.

“And you’re wrong,” he said. “It’s not okay to care for others when it gets them tortured or killed.”

My fingers tightened around the stem of my glass as I thought of what he’d said in the bathing chamber that afternoon. All of those vast reasons behind why he couldn’t afford for me to be a distraction. “Kolis?”

Nyktos didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He stared at me, and after a moment, he nodded again.

“Nektas said…he said that you’ve been able to convince Kolis that you are loyal to him.”

“I have.”

“Then why does he treat you like this?” I asked, unable to believe that Kolis was simply punishing Nyktos for actions he believed were nothing more than Nyktos testing limits. “Is it because of your father?”

“Probably. But it’s not that much different than how he is with other Primals who actually are loyal to him. One way or another, they fall in and out of favor with him as quickly as you go through clean clothing.”

I huffed out a laugh, but I wished he’d told the truth. Instinct told me that while Kolis was likely cruel to others, it was different with Nyktos. That while his treatment of Nyktos may have originally stemmed from his father, it had to be more than that. That it connected with how Attes claimed that Nyktos was Kolis’s favorite.

He was quiet for several moments. “The other night? When I came into your bedchamber?”

“Yes?” I somehow resisted the urge to taunt him with what he’d done, and I was, in fact, rather proud of myself for doing so.

“I…I would’ve come earlier,” he said. “But there was an issue at the Pillars.”

“That’s why you left with Rhahar?” I asked, not letting myself focus on what had come before that. He nodded. “Was it souls that needed your judgment?”

“Not this time. It was souls who refused to cross.” “Does that happen often?”

“Far more than you’d think.” He sighed. “More and more souls are refusing to cross and are entering the Dying Woods instead. It gets the ones already there stirred up.”

“The Shades can’t be fun to deal with.”

“As you know, they’re not.” His fingers quietly tapped the side of his glass. “The moment the souls refuse to cross and enter the woods, they become Shades. Nektas believes that’s it for them. They’re lost and should be destroyed. Immediately. And I know I should. None has ever come back from that. But I think…what if one does? What if? There should still be a chance for them to either face justice or receive redemption. But once they’re destroyed, that’s it. There are no more chances.”

Wetness gathered in my eyes as I blew out a shaky breath. Knowing he didn’t like to kill the Shades twisted my heart, especially since my actions had led him to do just that. Him wanting to give them another chance was yet another sign of how good he was. And, gods, he deserved better than this life. One that wouldn’t allow him to be close or affectionate with another because he feared those emotions would bring harm to them. In reality, it wasn’t even a life. I knew that more than anyone. He simply existed, and that wasn’t fair.

“I hope your plan works.”

A dark eyebrow rose. “Is it because you’re finally thinking of a future that doesn’t involve your death?”

“No.”

“Of course, not,” he muttered.

“It’s clear that you should be the true Primal of Life,” I explained. “Not because it was your destiny, but because you’re good.”

A faint smile appeared, but it didn’t warm his features like the ones before had. “That’s where you’re wrong. I told you before. I have one kind, decent bone in my body, Sera. But I am not good, and you would do well to remember that.”