You will not survive.

I jerked as the god’s words echoed over and over.

“No. No,” Ash snarled as energy charged the air. Shadows blossomed beneath his flesh, churning rapidly. “You’re wrong.”

“You can successfully remove the embers. Any Primal could because she is, whether or not your father intended, a placeholder for them,” Delfai said quietly enough, but it sounded as if he shouted the words. “The realms are lucky no one else has learned of their existence in her,” he said, and I flinched. “But she cannot survive such an act.”

Death always finds you. Holland’s voice whispered through my thoughts. By the hands of a god or a misinformed mortal. By Kolis himself, and even by Death.

Ash.

I laughed.

As I stared at them, I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The sound was strange, too loud yet too brittle.

Ash’s head snapped to mine. His eyes were nearly pure orbs of eather. Shadows raced over his cheeks as faint tendrils spilled into the space around him. He was close to shifting, losing control, and I…

I was just there.

The floor didn’t feel as if it moved beneath me as it had the last time I’d heard someone speak about my demise so bluntly. There was no surprise. No shock. And maybe it was because I knew this. Didn’t I? I could allow myself to escape my fate for a time. But, deep down, I’d known that I wouldn’t be able to run from it.

“No,” Ash repeated as if the single word changed what Delfai had said. What an Arae had already told us. He shook his head, lines of tension bracketing his mouth as his eyes locked with mine. “There has to be something,” he rasped, turning back to Delfai. “It cannot be an either-or

situation. There has to be a way to remove the embers without causing her harm. My father survived—”

“Your father was born a god destined to Ascend into his Primalhood, just as you. The embers belonged to him. They were hidden in her bloodline, in her mortal body. They didn’t belong to her,” he said in that same quiet, flat tone. “All it took was one drop of Primal blood for them to grow stronger in her and make it impossible for anyone to remove the embers.” He said what Holland had warned us about. “They have merged with her. Even if you had attempted to do this the moment you became aware of both embers being inside her, the end result would still be the same. It would be like cutting out her heart. There are only three options here. Either you become the true Primal of Life and restore balance to the realms. Someone else, another Primal, takes them—and I don’t think any of us wants that. Or she completes her Ascension, and you already ensured that—”

“Don’t.” My eyes flew open as the embers in my chest vibrated, pushing a flood of heat and energy through my veins. It hit the air. Glass cracked. “Do not finish that sentence.”

Delfai sat back. “I’m sorry, but you will die either way.” He sighed, and the sound was something…accepting. Resigned. “Whether the realms are saved in the process is up to—”

Ash shadowstepped, grasping the god by the throat and slamming him into the bookshelf several feet behind the settee and off the floor, rattling the furniture. Books pitched forward, falling like rain and thumping off the floor.

“Stop!” I cried, racing forward.

“Her death will not come at my hands,” Ash snarled in a guttural, barely recognizable voice. The hazy outline of wings made of eather appeared behind him. Essence sparked along his bare arms. “That is an unacceptable answer.”

My stomach lurched as I reached them, seeing that only eather filled his eyes now, and blood…blood began to drip from Delfai’s nose and the corner of his mouth. The god started to spasm, and the veins beneath his skin lit up.

Ash’s lips peeled back, revealing his fangs— “Don’t!” I shouted. “This isn’t his fault.”

“Maybe not.” Ash’s voice dropped low, becoming nothing more than blood and shadows. “But perhaps he will become more creative in his answers once he spends some time in the Abyss.”

“That isn’t going to help. He told us what he knows. That answer isn’t going to change.” I grabbed Ash’s arm. The shock of the essence blew the wisps of hair back from my face. His skin felt like ice and stone. “Ash.”

His head snapped toward mine, and my heart stuttered. The shadows had stilled, leaving his flesh a striking mosaic of golden bronze and midnight. He was more Primal than man.

“This isn’t his fault, Ash.” I swallowed, smoothing my thumb over the hard skin of his forearm. “You’re hurting him, and he doesn’t deserve this. You don’t deserve another mark. Let him go. Please.”

A second passed. Just a heartbeat. But it felt like an eternity as he stared down at me, his body taut with power and violence, the striking lines of his features twisted in rage.

Then he released the god. Well, dropped him.

Either way, Delfai was free.

He landed hard enough to shake a few more books free. They hit the floor around him as he leaned onto his side, hand at his throat, wheezing. Injured but alive.

I didn’t let go of Ash’s arm, and he didn’t look away from me as I forced him back from Delfai. Slowly, the shadows faded from his flesh, and the eather receded from his eyes.

“I should be dead,” Delfai rasped. “I’ve seen my death.” Frowning, I glanced at the god but didn’t let go of Ash’s arm.

“You were supposed to kill me.” Delfai leaned back against the bookshelf, patches of skin along his arms and neck charred. My stomach churned. “That was how I died.”

“Well, you’re not dead, thanks to her.” Ash’s jaw worked as he glared at the god as if he were about to change his mind. “Congratulations.”

Delfai’s fingers stilled around his throat. “It may be cause for celebration.” His hand dropped to his lap. “Perhaps there is a silver beast and a brightest moon. Two. Not one,” he rambled. “Two then one.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Ash demanded.

“Nothing.” He smiled widely, revealing blood-streaked teeth. “Nothing but hope.”

There was a good chance that Ash had done some damage to Delfai’s mind because what he’d prattled on about made no sense. Silver beast? Brightest moon? It reminded me of the title Ash had given me, but I really didn’t know why he’d be rambling about that—and it honestly didn’t matter.

Neither of us spoke as we left Cauldra Manor, passing guards who hastily bowed but kept a healthy distance. I’d wanted to say goodbye to Kayleigh but knew it wouldn’t be wise for us to linger.

Not when violent, frenetic eather still leaked into the air around Ash. And I didn’t think I had it in me to hold an appropriate conversation.

My mind was too focused on what was to come.

What could no longer be denied.

It was the strangest damn thing as we made our way down the rocky hill, feeling the sun’s warmth on my face. The devastation of all the what- ifs that would not happen. The knowledge that the end was truly coming this time. And the utter collapse of hope.

It was all rather…freeing. A calmness settled over me.

The ever-present pressure on my chest was still there, but it didn’t squeeze as tightly as it had. And maybe it was because I’d always expected to die. Maybe it was because the soul inside me had also lived through many deaths.

After all, death had been my constant companion, an old friend that I always knew, deep down, would visit one day.

I looked at Ash. He stared straight ahead, the muscle in his jaw ticking with each step. We’d just reached the pines when I said, “Stop.”

“We need to return to the Shadowlands,” he bit out. “We need to talk.”

“I need to think.”

The breath I took was shaky as I followed him into the thick stand of pines. “You have to do it.”

Ash halted. “There is nothing I have to do.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” I stopped a few feet from him, understanding dawning. “You…you knew how to remove the embers from me this whole time, didn’t you?”

His shoulders went rigid.

“Gods,” I whispered hoarsely. Because I knew—I knew—I was right. “I didn’t know for sure. It’s not like there has ever been another like

you—a mortal with Primal embers in them.” His head bowed. “But I figured that draining you completely was a possibility.”

He could’ve done that at any time. Taken the embers from me. He could’ve Ascended. Stopped Kolis. Stopped Veses. But he hadn’t.

Because he knew that it would kill me.

I let my head fall back as I dragged in deep, stinging breaths.

“But I knew that wasn’t how Kolis took the embers,” Ash gritted out. “I knew there had been another way.”

But there wasn’t.

Blinking the dampness from my eyes, I lowered my head. “We came here to learn how to transfer the embers, and now we know.”

He said nothing, but the air thinned and chilled. A few needles fell from the pines’ branches, drifting to the ground.

My heart began to pound as my throat tightened. “There is no other option. We can’t allow someone else to learn about the embers and take them.”

Slowly, he faced me, his features stark. “There has to be another way.

Maybe the Star—”

“How would we retrieve it? Do you know where Kolis keeps it? Know anyone who would be willing to share that little piece of information with us? No. And even if we could find the Star, you heard what Delfai said. It’s too late. The embers have merged with me. Removing them will kill me either way, and I—I don’t want to die.”

“Glad to hear that you finally feel that way.”

I ignored that. “I want a future. I want to live. I want to experience a life where I have control of my future. I want us,” I whispered. “But I need a future where we defeat Kolis and the Rot goes away. Where those in Iliseeum and in the mortal realm are safe. That’s what’s important. The only thing that matters.”

“No, it is not the only damn thing that matters, Sera.” His eyes flashed. “You. Not the godsdamn embers. Not the fucking realms. You

matter.”

My breath snagged as I closed my eyes against the wealth of emotion that rose. I…I did matter. Me. But this wasn’t about only me. I knew that. So did he. “There’s no other way.” A tremor went through me as I opened my eyes. “I understand that. And it’s not your fault.”

He looked away, swallowing. “Stop—”

“It’s not,” I insisted. “This isn’t right or fair, but you know what you have to do, Ash.”

“Do not,” he snarled, head snapping back to mine. He took a short, measured step toward me and then shadowstepped, appearing directly in front of me. “Do not call me that when you speak of me ending your life so casually.”

Pressure seized my chest as a knot lodged in my throat—a mix of emotions too raw for me to fully understand. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” A ragged laugh left him. “Fates, you are sorry. I can taste it. Vanilla but tangy.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You feel sympathy—anguish—for me.”

I sucked in a short breath, pressing my right palm to my heart. Sympathy. Anguish. That and bone-deep resolution were what I felt. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Neither have you.”

“How the fuck can you even say that?” Ash roared, loud enough that even with the distance we’d traveled, it was still likely someone heard. I doubted anyone would dare to venture into the pines, though. “Because there was another option. I could’ve saved you.”

“This isn’t on you.” Reaching up, I clasped his cool cheeks. He started to pull away, but I held on as the embers hummed. Essence shattered his eyes—anger and agony, too. I drew in a short breath and nearly choked on the scent of pine. “Even if you had your kardia, Ash, there was no guarantee you’d love me—”

“Yes, there is.” His eyes were wide and wild as he caught my wrists. “I would’ve loved you if I could have. There would’ve been no stopping me.”

A jolt ran through me. His declaration was as powerful as one of love, and it shook me. Rattled me until the embers began to hum and throb, until I tasted the eather gathering in the back of my throat. The corners of my eyes started to brighten.

“Kiss me,” I whispered. There was no hesitation.

Ash drew me to him, lifting me onto the tips of my toes as his mouth lowered to mine. We both shuddered at the touch of our lips. The kiss was gentle and tentative, full of reverence and sorrow. Tears rushed my tightly closed eyes. A soul-torn groan rumbled from Ash’s chest and through mine.

The embers continued to hum. My heart ached.

Ash’s arms wrapped around me, hands gripping my braid and my hip. He pulled me even closer, our bodies pressed together. His head tilted as the kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping against mine, teeth clashing with fangs. From the anguish emerged a desperation, an all-consuming need and want.

There was no hesitation when our mouths parted and our gazes met. No words were needed as his lips returned to mine. We reached for each other, buttons being undone, pants and undergarments pushed down. Our lips stayed locked as he lowered me to the pine-needled ground and entered me with a deep, powerful thrust.

His mouth silenced my cry of pleasure, met by his heated growl. With my pants bunched around my knees, I couldn’t lift or spread my legs. The limited movement made every thrust tight and intensely nerve-wracking as I clung to his arms.

That was all I could do—hold on as he moved in and out, going as deep as possible, driving me to the razor-thin edge of pleasure and pain.

He seated himself deeply within me, lifting his mouth from mine as he clasped my cheek, stilling. “I wish…” he whispered hoarsely, dragging his fingers across the freckles sweeping over my cheek. “I wish I’d never had my kardia removed.”

My eyes fluttered open.

His eyes glinted with a…a sheen of red. Primal tears of grief. “I never wanted to love. Not until you, liessa.”

Air lodged in my throat as my chest squeezed and swelled, a conflicting rise of emotion. “I know.”

He shook, then lost all semblance of control. His hips plunged against mine, each thrust a promise of what his heart couldn’t give. Each ragged

breath between us raw and beautiful. The pleasure rose. Sorrow followed. And when release found us, it took us both, leaving us shaken and a little bit destroyed.

Neither of us moved for a long time. In the silence, I soaked up the feel of his heart beating against my chest, the cool weight of his body as I stared up at the needled pines above us. “Can you make me a promise?”

He lifted his head, and eyes full of silver moonlight met mine. “Anything, liessa.”

“When it comes time,” I whispered, “can you take me to my lake? I want it to be done there.”

Ash’s chest stilled against mine. His eyes slammed shut as the tendons of his throat stood out, and his features sharpened and thinned. “I promise.”