Later that night, after I’d taken a quiet supper in my chambers alone, I picked up a soft throw blanket and went out onto the balcony.
Wrapping the blanket around my shoulders, I stood beside the railing. The whole day had been a blur of me turning over what Ash had said about his parents—about love.
I exhaled shakily as I stared out over the gray courtyard. His mother had been killed while he’d still been in her womb. I couldn’t…
A knot returned to my throat. It took no leap of logic for me to consider that the one time the rules regarding Consorts had been broken, it had meant the death of his mother.
Her murder.
Grief rose, pressing down on my chest as I stared at the slowly darkening leaves of the Red Woods. Who had killed his mother? Was it the same person who’d killed his father? And was that how his father had become weak enough to be killed? Because he loved his wife more than anything in the realms? It had to be another Primal who’d done that. Which one, I couldn’t be sure. I only knew what had been written about them by their Priests and mortals, and what little information there was on them wasn’t enough to formulate any opinion.
Was that why his father had asked for a Consort? But if his wife had already been killed, why would he then seek a mortal bride, one who would be even more vulnerable?
Or one that he never had to fear falling in love with?
But that didn’t make sense either because his love for his wife had already done its damage. Her being alive or dead would not change that.
It didn’t make sense. There had to be a reason his father had done this, but did the reason matter?
No, whispered the voice that sounded like a mix of my mother’s and mine.
What did make sense was the very real possibility that Ash was…that he was incapable of love because of what had happened to his parents. No part of me doubted he believed every single word he’d said about love, and that was sad.
And terrifying.
Because if he couldn’t allow himself to love, what could I do to change that? Hell, I couldn’t even stop myself from being antagonistic for more than a handful of minutes.
I never should’ve been the first daughter born after the deal had been made. Anyone or anything would be far better suited for this task than me. Possibly even a barrat.
A keen sense of desperation invaded me as I sat on the edge of the daybed, facing the Red Woods. The leaves had turned to a deep shade of reddish-black, a signal that night had fallen. As I sat there, I allowed myself to think about what I had done the night before Ash had come for me. Before everything had happened with Tavius.
I’d helped Marisol because I loved Ezra. Obviously, not the same kind of love shared between Ash’s parents, but love…it truly made one do foolish things. How would Ash respond to my gift, to the knowledge that I could stop a soul from crossing over to the Shadowlands, returning them healthy and whole to their bodies?
As the Primal of Death, I doubted he would be overjoyed to learn of it— Movement from the courtyard drew me from my thoughts. Once more, I recognized Ash’s tall form. Like the last time, he was alone as he
disappeared into the crimson-tinted darkness of the Red Woods.
 |
Three days later, the dull ache had returned, settling in my temples. Along with the faint traces of blood when I brushed my teeth. The pain was nothing like the day Sir Holland had given me the tea he’d brewed, but as I stood in the deep shadows of the throne room, surrounded by the Primal’s guards, I worried that it would worsen. I couldn’t remember the herbs that had been in that pouch Sir Holland had left for me.
Shifting from one foot to the other, my gaze traveled across the raised, shadowstone dais to the Primal sitting in one of the thrones. My body tightened upon seeing him. Dressed in black with the iron-hued brocade around the raised collar and a line of the richly woven fabric swirling in a thin, diagonal line across his chest, he looked as if he’d been conjured from the shadows of a star-kissed hour of night. He eyed a man striding down the center of the chamber toward the dais. He wore no crown as he held court, meeting with those from Lethe. No grand banners had been raised behind the thrones. There was no ceremonial grandeur. The guards lining the alcove wore no livery or finery, but they were armed to the teeth. Each had a short sword strapped to their hip and a longer sword sheathed down their backs, the hilts pointed downward and slanted to the side for easy access. Across their chests hung daggers with wicked curves. All of the blades were shadowstone.
“Do you normally fidget this much?” a voice whispered to my right.
I stilled, ceasing my endless shifting as I glanced at Saion. He stared ahead. “Maybe?” I said in a low voice.
“I told you we should not have allowed her in here,” Ector commented from my left.
Behind me, Rhain chuckled. “Are you worried Daddy Nyktos will be upset with you for allowing her in here and send you to bed without your supper?”
I lifted my brows. Daddy Nyktos?
“It will not be me who he will be irritated with,” Ector commented, watching the man as closely as Saion was. “It will be you two, as I was the only one to raise objections to this.”
“Are we not a team?” Saion asked. “If one of us goes down, we all go down together.”
Ector smirked. “I am part of no such team.” “Traitor,” Rhain murmured.
I rolled my eyes. “No one can even see me. I doubt he even knows I’m here.”
Saion looked down at me, one eyebrow raised. He, like the other two gods, were just as armed as the guards before us. “There is not a single part of Nyktos that doesn’t know exactly where you are.”
A chill of apprehension swept through me as, at that very moment, the Primal on the throne turned his head in the direction of the darkened alcove.
I could practically feel his stare piercing straight through the line of guards who stood outside the alcove. I held my breath until his focus left me.
I had a feeling I would be in trouble for this later, even though I didn’t think I was breaking any rules. Holding court wasn’t the same as having an unexpected guest. At least, that was my reasoning as I watched the man stop before the Primal and bow deeply. I hadn’t known Ash would be holding court today. In my defense, I had thought Ash and his guards were once more disappearing into a chamber that was located behind the dais, something I’d caught him doing several times in the last three days.
Which made me extremely curious about what went on in that chamber.
What was discussed.
I’d been roaming aimlessly through the silent and otherwise empty palace, as I had been doing for the last three days when I saw him entering the throne room with several of the guards yet again and decided to follow. I’d made it about two steps into the chamber before Saion appeared out of nowhere and blocked me. I’d half expected him to turn me away, but he didn’t.
And so, here I was, the longest I’d been in Ash’s presence since the library. There had been no shared suppers or breakfasts. No surprise visits. He’d joined me briefly the day before when I stood under one of the outdoor stairwells watching Aios and Reaver. He’d stopped long enough to ask how I was and then left. A few minutes later, I’d seen him riding through the gates on Odin with several of the guards.
Needless to say, I was not only restless, I was also irritated and a hundred other emotions. But mostly, I was frustrated. How was I supposed to seduce him when I never saw him?
Of course, each night, I stared at those damn doors joining our rooms. On more than one occasion, I had stood in front of them, debating whether to knock. Every time I did, I thought about what he’d said about love and retreated to my bed.
I didn’t think about why.
Instead, I thought about what an absolute failure this was turning out to
be.
The dark-haired man rose from his knee to stand straight. “Your
Highness,” he said.
“Hamid,” Ash replied, and a sudden gust of wind whirled through the chamber, stirring the candles’ flames.
My gaze flicked to the open ceiling to see a draken flying overhead. They’d been circling the entire time as people came before the Primal to speak about incoming shipments, arrivals from other Courts, and arguments between tenants. It was all surprisingly mundane.
Except for the draken.
“What can I do for you today?” Ash asked.
“There’s…there’s nothing that I need of you, Your Highness.” Hamid clasped his hands together as he glanced nervously up at the Primal.
“Is he mortal?” I asked.
“He is.” Ector inclined his head. “How did you know?”
I shrugged. It was hard to explain, but the man didn’t have the almost inherent sense of confidence or arrogance the gods and Primals seemed to have in how they moved.
“There’s just something that I have grown concerned with,” Hamid continued, looking up through a sheet of dark hair. “And while I hope it turns out to be nothing, I’m afraid that it may not.”
“What is it?” Ash’s fingers tapped on the arm of the throne.
“There is a young woman who is new to Lethe. Her name is Gemma—” “Yes.” Ash’s fingers stilled. “I know who you mean. What about her?”
“I’ve seen her each day for the last month. She comes into the bakery. Always asks for a slice of chocolate torte with strawberries,” Hamid explained, and for a moment, I imagined the deliciousness of such a treat. “Very quiet girl. Very polite. Doesn’t make a lot of eye contact, but I imagine—well, that doesn’t matter.” He inhaled deeply. “I haven’t seen her in a bit. Asked around. No one has.”
Ash had gone completely still on the throne, as did the gods around me. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“Four days ago, Your Highness.”
“Have you noticed anyone with her, at any time? Or seen anyone who may have taken an interest in her?” Ash asked.
The mortal shook his head. “I have not.”
“I will have it looked into.” Ash sent a quick glance to the alcoves. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
Saion immediately stepped away from me. He looked over his shoulder at Rhain and then to me, “If you’ll excuse me?”
Before I could say a word, both he and Rhain left the alcove, stalking toward the entryway to the chamber. I turned to Ector with a frown. “Who
is this Gemma?”
The line of Ector’s jaw was hard. “No one.”
I didn’t think for one second she was no one. Not to incite that kind of reaction from Ash. My interest was more than just piqued as I watched Hamid leave the chamber and Theon enter.
I hadn’t seen the god since the day I’d arrived. The easy grin and teasing air were gone as he strode quickly toward the dais. Like the other gods, he had a short sword strapped to his hip, and a long sword across his back. He went to the dais as Ash leaned forward. Whatever Theon said, he spoke too quietly for me to hear, but I knew that something was happening because Ash sent another quick look in the direction of the alcove.
“Stay here,” Ector ordered before walking off.
Antsy, I watched him part the line of guards and take the steps of the dais. Wind stirred the flames once more as another draken flew overhead, calling out in a shrill, staggered sound. Tiny bumps spread across my flesh as Ector bent his head to Ash’s. The god looked at Theon and then nodded. He pivoted quickly as Ash rose from the throne. I started to step forward as Ector hopped down from the dais and returned to my side.
“Come,” he said, reaching for me but stopping short of touching me. “We must go.”
Some things never changed it seemed. My frown deepened. “What is going on?”
“Nothing.”
No part of me wanted to follow, but I felt the sudden tension in the air.
One that warned me I should obey.
I went, noting that Ector walked to my left, forcing me between him and the wall. The moment we were out in the hall, I stopped. “What is going on, and don’t say nothing? Something is.”
“There has been an unexpected…arrival.” The fair-haired god’s lip curled. “His Highness stated that you’re aware of what to do when there are guests.”
I squeezed my hands into fists. “I am.”
“Perfect.” He led me down the wide corridor. “Would you like to return to your chamber?”
“Not really.”
He raised a brow. “Then your only other option…” He stopped, stepping into the alcove and opening a set of doors. “Is the library.”
I stared into the dimly lit space. The room was slightly better than my bedchamber, even though there was a heavy, haunting quality to it—a sadness that clung to the walls and coated the tomes lining the shelves, just as the fine layer of dust did, seeping into the floors and the air. My gaze fell on the candlelit portraits at the back of the chamber. Was it Ash who lit the candles each day, replacing them when they burned to the quick? Did he come in here often, so that his memory of his father remained fresh? So that he had a face to place with his mother’s name?
I stepped inside, surrounded by the scent of books and frankincense, and welcomed by the sadness. I faced Ector. “Am I supposed to stay in here until I’m allowed to return to roaming aimlessly?”
“Pretty much. I doubt she will have any interest in a library,” he replied, and I went completely and utterly still. “Someone will let you know when you’re free to resume roaming around aimlessly.”
My heart was suddenly pounding. She. “Who…who is the guest?”
“A friend of Nyktos’,” he replied flatly, and it didn’t sound like this was someone Ector was fond of. Then again, I didn’t think Ector was too fond of me. His luminous eyes met mine. “Remember what you agreed to.”
“I remember.”
Ector eyed me as he slowly closed the library doors. The moment I heard them snick into place, I went to them and waited.
Who was she?
Better yet, who was she that Ash didn’t want me around? A sour sensation pooled in my stomach, one that couldn’t be jealousy. More like… indignant anger. For someone who claimed to think of how I tasted at the most inappropriate times, he sure hadn’t shown any interest over the last three days. Nor had he shown any interest in receiving pleasure, something males generally always wanted. Could it be because he’d been finding pleasure elsewhere despite the impression I’d gotten regarding his experience?
The last thing I needed was competition when it wasn’t like I could win his heart with my sparkling personality. My options were limited.
And not only that, I was to be his Consort. If he were going to be
interested in others, he could at least do it elsewhere.
Cracking open the door, I peered out into the hall, half surprised not to find Ector standing there. I didn’t waste a second. I quietly closed the doors
behind me and crept out into the hall. I only made it to the area of Ash’s office when I heard voices.
“You’ve been particularly difficult to obtain an audience with lately.” A velvet-wrapped voice filled the hall.
“Have I been?” came Ash’s response.
I cursed under my breath, quickly scanning the hall. I darted into an alcove and pressed my back against the cool stone wall.
“You have,” the woman replied. “I was beginning to take it personally.” “Nothing personal, Veses. I’ve just been busy.”
Veses? The Primal of Rites and Prosperity? My throat dried as I leaned toward the thin slit of a gap between the thick pillar and the wall. She was heavily celebrated during the weeks leading up to the Rite, in rituals only known to the Chosen. Many prayed to her for good luck but doing so came with risks. Veses could be vengeful, dishing out misfortune to those she found unworthy of blessings.
“Too busy for me?” Veses asked, a sharpness edging into the softness of her tone. Was she one of the Primals that pushed Ash?
“Even you,” Ash said.
“Now, I’m a little offended.” That sharpness had become a blade, just as they entered my narrow line of sight. “I’m sure it’s unintentional.”
Ash moved into view first. He was unarmed, as he had been in the throne room. But considering what he was capable of, I didn’t know if that meant he didn’t view this Veses as a threat or not. “You should know by now that I never cause unintended offense.”
The Primal laughed, and I gritted my teeth at the honey-coated sound. A second later, she stepped into the narrow opening. If Ash was midnight personified, she was sunlight manifested.
Golden-blonde hair cascaded over slim shoulders in thick, perfectly coiled ringlets, reaching an impossibly narrow waist cinched by a gown a shade or so paler than her hair. The gossamer fabric clung to a lithe body. I glanced down at the breeches I wore, thinking that one of my legs was probably the size of both of hers.
I looked back up as she turned to Ash, and I wished I’d continued staring at my leg as none of the many paintings and renderings I’d seen of her had done her justice. Her creamy complexion was smooth and pink, clear of freckles. The line of her nose and the shape of her brow were delicate, as if she had been constructed of the same handblown glass as the
figurines that had lined my stepfather’s office. And her mouth was full, a perfect pout the shade of apricots. She was incredibly beautiful.
I didn’t like this Primal.
I didn’t like her, knowing damn well my reasons were…well, quite petty.
“No,” Veses remarked, lifting a bare arm. She wore a similar silver band around her slender biceps. Her hand coasted up his arm. “You just offend intentionally.”
“You know me all too well.” Ash opened the door to his office. Now, I really disliked her.
And him.
And everyone.
“Do I? If so, I wouldn’t have been so blindsided by the rumor I heard.” Her slender fingers reached the silver band around his upper arm.
For one of the incredibly rare moments in my life, I heeded caution and stayed where I was. She was a Primal. One that could bestow bad luck with a graze of her fingers. And the gods knew I already had enough of that in my life. Still, it took everything in me to remain hidden.
He looked at her. She was nearly his height, so they were almost eye to eye. “What is this rumor you heard?”
She toyed with the band while I wondered exactly how badly a shadowstone dagger to the chest would sting a Primal. “I heard that you have taken a Consort.”
My lips parted as I pressed against the pillar.
A half-smile appeared and curved Ash’s lips. “News does travel fast.”
Veses’ fingers stilled as she stared at him. A faint, silvery glow rippled over her skin. The delicate features hardened. “So, it’s true?” she asked, and I didn’t think she sounded happy at all.
“It is.”
She didn’t speak for a long moment. “That is…very intriguing.” “Is it?” His blasé tone irked me.
“Yes.” Veses’ smile was tight-lipped. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who will find that intriguing, Nyktos.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw as she slid her hand from his arm and brushed it across him, stepping into the darkness of the office. Ash followed, hand still on one of the doors. He stopped in the doorway, turning…
He looked directly at the alcove.
Eyes widening, I jerked back against the wall. He knew I was here. What in the hell? Heart thumping, I waited until I heard the door close before I peeked between the pillar and the wall. The hall was empty.
A whole new wave of irritation surged through me as I stepped out from under the alcove. Ash had been so busy the last several days that I’d barely seen him, but he was making time for this Veses? Who was a Primal, but whatever.
I hurried past the library to the back stairs I’d discovered a few days ago and stalked out the side door near the kitchen, into the gray world of the Shadowlands. There was no breeze today. The air was stagnant, unchanging. I looked up, noting that there were no clouds. There were never clouds, but the stars were shining, blanketing the sky.
Crossing the courtyard, I looked up at the tall, imposing Rise. As I expected, there were no guards. I had never seen them on this side. Normally, they patrolled the western portion, the front, and the northern part of the Red Woods, which faced Lethe.
The gray grass crunched under my boots as I continued forward. I really had no idea where I was going. All I knew was that I couldn’t spend another moment in the dusty, sad library, my chambers, or in the bare, empty palace where I felt as unseen as I did in Wayfair.
And that was silly. I only needed to be seen by Ash, but I was still a ghost. Nothing.
I hadn’t realized how close I’d come to the Red Woods until I found myself mere feet from one of the blood leaves. My steps slowed as I took them in, curious. I’d never seen a leaf such a vibrant shade of red before. Nor iron-hued bark. What could have turned them this color? I walked forward, just a few feet into where I was forbidden to travel. I remembered Ash’s warning, but how dangerous could they be when no gate or wall separated the woods from Haides?
I looked over my shoulder, seeing no sign of Ector. With Saion and Rhain checking on the missing woman in Lethe, there was no one who would run back and tell on me.
And it wasn’t like I couldn’t take care of myself while Ash was busy with Veses, doing the gods’ only knew what.
A faint ache threatened to return to my temples as I reached up, touching a leaf on a low-hanging branch. The texture was smooth and soft,
reminding me of velvet. I dragged my thumb over the supple leaf, my mind conjuring the image of Ash doing the same with a strand of my hair.
Was Ash as fascinated with Veses’ hair as he so often appeared to be with mine? I imagined he would be. Her curls were thick and bouncy and didn’t resemble a nest of tangles.
“I’m the worst,” I muttered, rolling my eyes as I lowered my hand and drifted forward.
I shouldn’t be surprised that he was expressing his interest in that office with Veses. I’d obviously been wrong in my perception of what he’d said about his experience. The way he’d kissed and touched me should’ve been enough evidence that he had quite a bit of skill—skill I was betting Veses also knew all too well. My lip curled—
A shrill shriek of pain stopped me dead in my tracks. I looked up as something winged and silver crashed through the red leaves, plummeting to the ground with a heavy thud. A hawk. It was a large, silver hawk. Another swooped down from above, veering off when it spotted me. I didn’t even know these types of hawks were in Iliseeum, let alone the Shadowlands. I’d only ever caught rare glimpses of them circling the very tips of the Dark Elms.
With wide eyes, I watched the hawk try to lift a clearly broken wing. Red streaked its throat and belly as it flailed on the gray grass. It squawked pitifully, dark talons thrashing and digging into the soil.
What was it with wounded animals and me? How did I always—?
Warmth pulsed in my chest, sudden and intense. The tingling rush of eather flooding my veins followed, stunning me. It was very much like when I was around something that’d died, but this hawk…it was still alive.
Confused, I looked down at my hands as a faint aura appeared, the light flickering softly between my fingers and over my skin. It was just like when I touched Marisol.
But Marisol had been dead.
“What the hell?” I looked over at the hawk as my chest throbbed, and this…urge swept through me. A demand that hummed, driving me forward. I was kneeling beside the hawk before I realized what I was doing. The whites of its eyes were stark as its wild gaze rolled from the sky to me.
The hawk stilled. I knew it was still alive, even though I couldn’t tell if it breathed. It was the gift. It knew. Somehow, I knew the hawk still lived, even though it didn’t strike with talons that could easily tear into my flesh.
Static danced over my hands as the heat gathered in my palms. I didn’t know what was happening, nor did I understand this powerful instinct, but it felt old. Ancient. Just like that dark and oily feeling had when I’d been forced to my knees in front of the statue of Kolis and stared at Tavius. It was undeniable, and there was nothing I could do but obey. I placed a hand on the exposed belly of the hawk, hoping that it remained still.
The hum flared intensely in my chest, and the light around my hands brightened for a heartbeat before the glow swept over the hawk and onto the soil, sparking and crackling as it seeped into and crawled across the ground. I sucked in a stuttered breath as the hawk twitched, emitting a sharp cry.
Panic crowded the edges of my mind. I couldn’t see the hawk under the glow. What if I had done something wrong? What if I killed the bird? If I did, I would never touch another thing—
A coarse, heavy wing straightened and swept down, brushing over my hand. Startled, I jerked back my arm and fell on my ass. The aura receded, and the hawk…
It stood, tentatively lifting both wings. The hawk’s wingspan was enormous, and I thought of the old stories Odetta had told me about these types of birds of prey. How they could pick up small animals and even children. I hadn’t believed her.
Seeing one this close, I now did.
The hawk’s head swiveled toward me. I ensured I made no sudden movements as it eyed me with flat, black eyes full of intelligence. The hawk chirped softly, a staggering call that reminded me of what the draken had done.
Then it took flight.
And I remained there, on my ass, absolutely dumbfounded. My touch… It healed? It had never done that before, but I also hadn’t tried. My stunned gaze fell to my hands as that heady warmth trickled through me, easing the tension in my neck and shoulders. Was my gift changing? Evolving? I didn’t think it had always been like that because I’d been around wounded animals and people before. I hadn’t felt like this when Tavius had been whipping his horse and I intervened, but I could…sense that it still lived. Just like I could sense when something had passed. And what about Odetta? My gift had come alive while she had been sleeping. I had chalked it up to fear igniting it, but maybe I had been wrong. Perhaps my gift had been urging me to heal her? I lowered my hands to the grass, curling them—
The grass.
I looked down. The grass was gray like…like the Rot but soft. I inhaled deeply, recognizing the stale scent of lilacs. My gaze rose, traveling over the thin, wispy weeds that ran along the floor of the Red Woods. The memory of the trees I’d seen when I first entered the Shadowlands formed in my mind. The Dying Woods. Their branches had been gnarled and leafless, and the bark was also gray, a deeper shade of steel, just like these.
Just like those in Lasania infected by the Rot. “Shit,” I whispered.
How had I not noticed that until now? Was this the Rot? A possible consequence of the deal not being fulfilled? Or was this something else?
A twig snapped, and immediately, I knew it wasn’t Ash or any of his guards. None of them would’ve made a sound. Another crack came, and the smell of stale flowers intensified.
My hand went to where the dagger was sheathed to my thigh as I pushed off the ground and turned around.
The space between the red-leafed trees didn’t look right. I squinted. The shadows there…they were thicker, and they moved forward into the fractured beams of starlight. Dark pants. Waxy skin. Bare skulls and mouths stretched too wide yet stitched closed.
I recognized them immediately. Hunters.
