A wave of disbelief slammed into me—a moment of utter stillness where my brain and body hadn’t caught up to what was happening yet. Why this was happening.
The shock of the material digging into my windpipe despite my fingers being in the way threw me out of the frozen state. There was a rough curse above as the sash twisted. My heart lurched in my chest as my shoulders were jammed against the back of the tub. Eyes wide, I tried to drag in air, but only a thin stream worked its way into my throat. I turned, reaching back and grasping an arm—a warm, hard wrist. Out of instinct, I dug my fingers in. The man cursed again, a deep and guttural sound as my eyes darted wildly over the black walls of the bathing chamber. His grip loosened a fraction, allowing a larger burst of air into my lungs and I gripped the binding, keeping it from completely sealing around my throat.
“Don’t fight,” the man rasped, slamming a hand down on the top of my head. “It will be easier if you don’t fight.”
Don’t fight? My heart slammed erratically as my shoulders slid down in the tub. If he got me underwater, I was done. I knew that. My chin went under, and panic crowded my thoughts. Think, Sera. Think. I planted my feet against the tub, bracing myself. Think, Sera— My gaze landed on the stool. Wood. If I could break it, it could be a weapon.
“I’m sorry,” the attacker ground out. “It has to be done. I’m sorry—”
Letting go of the attacker’s arm, I threw myself against the side of the tub. Water sloshed over the rim as I stretched, fingers brushing the towel—
The attacker jerked sideways, causing my feet to slide along the tub. The damn towel snagged on something, causing the stool to topple. Wood clattered off stone, and he shoved me down harder. I went under, sputtering a mouthful of sudsy, warm water. Panic and fear careened into anger— pulsing, pounding, red-hot fury, and that rage burned through the burst of terror and cleared my thoughts. I pushed as hard as I could off the foot of the tub with everything in me.
The hold on me shook under the burst of strength. I broke the surface, water and hair streaming down my face. Coughing, I threw my head back, connecting with a chin.
“Fuck,” the man grunted, slipping backward.
Ignoring the sharp pain shooting down my spine, I kept moving as the attacker tried to regain his footing in the water pooling around the tub. I twisted sideways, throwing an arm over the side of the tub. The porcelain pressed against my bare skin as I shoved my head under the sudden gap between the sash and my throat. I clamored over the side of the tub, following it onto the wet floor. Gasping for air, I spun around on my knees, but I didn’t make it very far.
A body crashed into mine, pushing me to the floor, a knee digging into the center of my back.
“Get off me!” I shouted. And for a brief, terrible moment, I was thrust back to that morning with Tavius, when he’d held me down just like this. The bitter taste of panic threatened to return, to overwhelm me.
No. No. No—
The man’s weight suddenly left me as he cursed. I didn’t know if he’d slipped in the water or not, but with my arms free, I grabbed hold of the leg of the stool. The reprieve was too brief. Hands clamped around my neck as I swung the stool around, welcoming the savage rush of satisfaction I felt when the edge of the stool connected with what sounded like the side of his head. The grip on my neck fell away, and I heard a shout. Scrambling forward, I rose to my knees and slammed the stool down hard on the edge of the tub. The impact cracked it in two, leaving me holding a leg with a jagged end.
The man grabbed me, but I was wet and slippery, and he couldn’t keep hold. With a scream, I twisted at the waist, slamming the broken wood into flesh—whatever part of him I could reach. It was his stomach—the side. The man howled, stumbling backward and slipping in the pools of water. He went down hard, the side of his head cracking off the bathtub. He fell to the floor, unmoving, and I saw him for the first time. Dark, curly hair. Pink skin. Middle-aged. I thought he looked vaguely familiar as a burst of icy wind whipped through the bathing chamber, charging the air. I yanked the wood from the man’s side and rose into a crouch, looking up just as shadows peeled off the shadowstone walls and raced out from the corners of the chamber, seemingly called forth as the doors flew open.
“Nyktos,” I whispered, sinking onto my knees.
The Primal was in front of me within a breath, barely sparing the man by the tub a look. Shadows pulsed under his thinning skin. Bright streaks of eather churned through his eyes. “Sera.”
For a moment, I thought I heard genuine concern in his voice, saw real fear in his stare, but that had to be a byproduct of my fright.
“Are you all right?” His hands folded over my upper arms.
Swallowing hard, I nodded. “How did you know?” The moment I asked the question, I remembered. “My blood.”
“I felt it.” He leaned in and swept back the hair plastered to my face. His features sharpened even more. “Your…fear. I tasted it.”
Booted steps drew to a halt outside the bathing chamber, and I heard Saion growl, “Fates.”
I glanced over Nyktos’ shoulder to see Ector in the doorway beside Saion. His face paled as he took in the scene before him.
“Having your blood in me has come in handy.” Nyktos’ gaze lowered, halting on my throat. His jaw hardened.
“Exactly how much does my blood let you feel of my emotions when I’m not around you?”
“Only if what you’re feeling is extreme.” “Feels a bit intrusive,” I muttered.
Silvery, swirling eyes met mine. “Part of me is astonished and somewhat bemused that you could even feel anger about that right now.” A pause as his stare returned to my throat. “The other half is…” He didn’t finish, but thick tendrils of shadow spilled across the floor, forcing Ector to take a step back. The god’s head snapped in the Primal’s direction.
His reaction… Was he truly concerned? Did it matter if he was? Because I…I was valuable to him right now. No, not me. What I carried inside me was important. Of course, he would be concerned about losing the ember of life and whatever else his father may have done.
“Get me a towel.” Nyktos shifted, shielding my body with his, but there was so much hazy darkness gathering around him that I doubted either god could see much of anything. “Not that one,” he said as Saion neared, reaching for the one that had been on the stool. “One that hasn’t been touched.”
“Of course.” A moment later, Saion handed a towel over.
Nyktos whipped it around my shoulders, but he didn’t let go. He held the edges closed and brushed aside several more soaked strands of hair. The eather was all too bright in his eyes and in the streaks cutting through the shadows churning around him.
“He tried to strangle you?” Nyktos’ voice was soft—too soft.
“He tried,” I said, suppressing a shudder. “He failed, as you can see.”
That didn’t seem to ease the Primal as his fingers grazed my throat, the touch tender. “Your skin had better not bruise.”
My eyes shot to his. He’d said that as if he could somehow will it into reality, and I wasn’t sure why he cared.
“I’m okay,” I repeated, clasping the towel just below his hands. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ll never take another bath again in my life, but I’m okay.”
Nyktos stared at me, brows slightly pinched.
“That’s…that’s Hamid,” murmured Saion, and I caught a glimpse of him turning to where the man lay. “What the fuck?”
The name was familiar. It took a moment. “The…man who came to court to report Gemma missing?”
The man groaned, jerking my attention over Nyktos’ shoulder. “He’s still alive,” Saion said at the same time Ector stepped forward. Nyktos twisted away from me. “Don’t—”
It happened so fast…a bolt of silvery-white energy arcing across the bathing chamber to slam into Hamid. I sucked in a startled breath, jerking back. Nyktos folded an arm around my waist, catching me before I toppled over. He gathered me against his chest and stood, bringing me along with him. The aura of eather swallowed the man, crackling and spitting, and then there was nothing left but a fine dusting of ash.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to use this bathing chamber again,” I murmured, and Saion’s brows kicked up as he looked over at me.
Nyktos drew in a deep, forced breath as the shadows scattered away from him, retreating to the walls and corners. “You killed him.”
“Was I not supposed to?” Ector lowered his hand. “He tried to kill her, and for reasons, you are not too keen on that idea.”
“I would’ve thoroughly enjoyed his death after I spoke with him.” Nyktos pinned a glare on the god, and it was then that I realized the man hadn’t just been killed. His soul had been destroyed. “There will be no questioning him now.”
“Shit.” Ector apparently realized the same thing. He dragged a hand through his hair. “I might need to think before I act.”
“You think?” Nyktos snapped. Ector cringed. “Sorry?”
“You’re cleaning up this mess,” Nyktos directed Ector then led me from the chamber.
“Gladly,” Ector remarked. “I think I’m going to need a bucket and a mop. Possibly a broom…” He trailed off under the Primal’s glare. “Or I could just use some towels and stuff.”
I started to look over my shoulder, but Nyktos led me toward the chaise as Rhain entered the bedchamber, drawing up short.
“Do I even want to know?” Rhain asked, sword in hand.
“Hamid just tried to assassinate Sera,” Saion answered from the doorway to the bathing chamber.
Confusion marked Rhain’s expression as he sheathed his sword. “Why in the hell would Hamid do that?”
“That’s what I would like to know.” Nyktos sat me down on the chaise. Flames roared to life from the quiet fireplace, causing me to jerk. My wide gaze slid to him. “Primal magic,” he said absently as if he’d only lit a candle. “Where is your robe?”
“I…I don’t know.”
He grabbed a throw blanket and then stopped. “You don’t need to let go of the piece of wood, but you do need to let go of the towel,” he said softly, and I blinked, realizing I was still holding the broken leg. “No one is looking.”
At that moment, I honestly didn’t care if the entire Shadowlands Court saw. I let go of the towel, and then the warm, soft weight of the blanket settled over my shoulders. I curled my fingers into the edges with one hand because I wasn’t exactly ready to part with the only weapon I had.
“I wish I had my dagger,” I murmured to no one in particular.
Everyone, including Nyktos, looked at me as if I’d possibly suffered some injury to the head. I sighed.
“How did he even get in here?” Rhain turned to the doors, stalking back to them. He checked them over. “There appears to be no forced entry.”
“I left the doors unlocked.” I briefly closed my eyes. “I thought someone would be guarding it.”
“Same,” Rhain murmured, looking over his shoulder at Nyktos.
I stared at the Primal, equally confused. Had he not made sure someone was outside to ensure I didn’t do anything?
A muscle ticked in Nyktos’ jaw. “I hadn’t quite gotten to that part yet.” “He’s had a busy morning,” Saion chimed in. “First, assuring you and
the others clucking around him like mother hens that he was okay, and then he had to check on the damage to the Rise.”
I didn’t know what to think about him not making it a priority that I was a…a prisoner. “Was there damage to the Rise?”
“Minimal,” Nyktos answered.
“And were there more deaths?” I asked.
He looked back at me. For a moment, I didn’t think he’d answer. Or that maybe he would accuse me of not caring. “There were injuries, but none that should be fatal.”
Exhaling softly, I nodded. That was good news, at least. “So,” I drew the word out as I looked up at the Primal. “A man who was a complete stranger just tried to kill me.”
“Appears that way,” Nyktos agreed flatly, sweeping his thumb over my chin before seeming to catch himself. He dropped his hand and rose. Several moments passed. “Did he say anything?”
“Only that…that he was sorry and had to do it,” I told them.
“Why would he think he had to do that?” Rhain asked. “Hell, I never would have expected something like that from him.”
“Did you know him well?”
“Well enough to know that he was a quiet man and kept to himself. Kind and generous,” Rhain said. “And he hated Kolis as much as any of us.”
I zeroed in on that. “Did he live here long?”
Nyktos nodded. “He was a godling that never Ascended—didn’t have enough eather in him for the change to take hold, but his mother wanted to be a part of his life. She was a goddess.”
“Was?” I whispered.
“She was killed several years ago.” Nyktos didn’t elaborate. And he didn’t need to. “Kolis?”
“He destroyed her soul,” Nyktos told me, and my chest hollowed. “I don’t even know what caused it. She was in a different Court at the time. It could’ve been anything—a perceived slight or a refusal to obey him. He made sure Hamid learned the details of her death.”
“Gods,” I whispered, sickened.
Saion glanced at me, his gaze straying to my throat—to the mark Nyktos left behind. I shifted the blanket higher. “Is it possible that he somehow found out what she plans to do?”
I stiffened.
“That’s impossible,” Rhain countered. “No one would dare speak of what she plans.”
“Planned,” I mumbled, but no one seemed to hear me.
“You know damn well that none of us would’ve disobeyed his orders. We wouldn’t want to piss him off.” Ector popped his head out of the bathing chamber. “And unlike me, Nyktos would think before destroying the soul so he could continue to fuck with us after we’re dead.”
But what would be the reason for a mortal I’ve never interacted with to feel as if they need to kill me? Then it occurred to me. “He came to visit Gemma. I guess during the attack or afterwards,” I said, and Nyktos turned to me. “Aios said that Gemma was only awake briefly. Not long enough to discover if she knew what had happened to her. Is it possible that she knows and said something to Hamid when Aios wasn’t there?”
“That’s possible,” Nyktos stated.
“Gemma is still here.” Ector brushed past Saion, holding a pile of towels in his arms. “She was asleep when I checked on her, and that was right before I met up with you all downstairs. So, that was…what? Less than thirty minutes ago?”
Nyktos turned to Rhain. “Find Aios and see if there was a time that Hamid was alone with Gemma. Have Aios stay with her, even if she is still asleep. Then I want you to check out Hamid’s house and the bakery he worked at. See if you can find out anything of interest.”
“Of course.” Rhain glanced at me, bowed, and then quickly left the room.
I was still thinking of what Gemma could’ve told Hamid. “But if Gemma realized that she died and I brought her back, why would that cause Hamid to try and kill me? He was concerned about Gemma. Wouldn’t he be happy that she’s alive?”
“You’d think. That’s a good question I would’ve loved to have answered.” Nyktos sent a pointed stare at Ector, who studied the floor as if it were of great interest. Nyktos shifted his focus back to me. “Are you sure
you’re okay?” he asked, and I nodded. He still came back to where I was sitting. “Let me see your neck again.”
I sat still as his fingers brushed my hair back, grazing my shoulder, desperately trying not to think about how he’d touched me before—how he’d held me. His gaze lifted to mine, and when he spoke, I thought his voice sounded thicker, richer. “I don’t think it will bruise.”
“Are you reading my emotions again?”
He said nothing as he let go of my hair, his fingers brushing my cheek— his warm fingers.
“Oh, my gods.” I shot up.
Nyktos eyed the broken leg I held as if he were half-afraid I’d use it against him, which was absurd enough that it actually made me want to use it. “What?”
“Your skin. It’s warm,” I told him, having forgotten that until now. “It’s been warm since last night, after you…” I trailed off as Ector looked over at us, his expression curious. “Well, since last night. Is it because you fed?”
Nyktos frowned. “No. That wouldn’t have changed it. My skin has been cool for as long as I can remember. Kolis’s skin most likely felt the same way.”
“Well, it’s not that way now,” I told him. “Can’t you tell?” When he shook his head, I looked over at the two remaining gods. “Haven’t any of you noticed it?”
Saion coughed out a laugh. “Why would we?” “It’s pretty noticeable.”
“If one of us is touching him,” Ector returned. “And none of us walk around touching him. He doesn’t like to be touched.”
I lifted my brows and looked over at Nyktos. “I didn’t get that impression.”
“Yeah, well, he enjoys your kind of touching,” Ector stated. Shockingly, I felt my face heat.
Nyktos turned to the god. “Do you have a death wish today?” he growled, and I began to wonder the same thing.
“I’m beginning to think I do,” Ector murmured and then shifted the bundle of towels. “But let me touch you. See if she’s telling the truth.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why would I lie about that?”
“Why would we not question everything that comes out of your mouth now?” Nyktos shot back.
A hundred different retorts burned my tongue, but every part of me locked up as I stood there. His accusation was warranted, but the coldness in his tone reminded me so much of my mother that it rattled me to my core.
Ector moved toward Nyktos as the Primal stared at me, his features unreadable. Forcing myself to remember Sir Holland’s breathing instructions, I focused on Ector.
The god touched Nyktos’ hand. Immediately, Ector’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit, your skin is warm.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Nyktos was still staring at me. I could feel it. “It…it has to be your blood.”
“If it is, it’s not like I did it on purpose.” “I wasn’t suggesting that.”
“Are you sure—?” I sucked in a stuttered breath, dropping the wooden leg as a sharp ache darted across my skull and along my jaw, leaving a webbing of shivery pain in its wake.
Nyktos stepped toward me. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” I bit out, pressing a palm against the side of my face. I squinted at the suddenly too-bright lights.
“Does your head hurt?”
“Or your face?” Ector asked.
“A little.” I drew in a shallow breath as the throbbing ache settled deep in my temple and under my eyes. “It’s just a…a headache. I’m fine. Shouldn’t we be heading into—whoa,” I murmured, blinking as the floor felt like it rolled slightly under my feet. “That felt odd.”
Nyktos was suddenly beside me. He clasped my arm, and I barely felt the jolt of his touch. “What did?”
“The floor,” I said, and his frown deepened.
“Are you dizzy?” Nyktos asked, and I started to nod, realizing that was rather dumb as the pain deepened. “I took too much of your blood—”
“It’s not that,” I told him. “I’ve had these headaches before—sometimes in my temples and under my eyes. Other times in my jaw.”
His brows snapped down. “How often have you gotten them?”
“On and off. Only this…this intense once before. I think there may be something wrong with one of my teeth. There’s been a bit of blood when I brush,” I told him.
Ector lowered the towels and stared at me. “When did that start?”
“The blood?” I winced.
“Any of it,” Nyktos demanded.
“I don’t know. A couple of years ago. It’s not…it’s not a big deal. My mother gets them sometimes, too. The headaches. So maybe it’s just that.”
Nyktos’ features were strangely stark as he stared down at me, too. “I’m not so sure that is the cause.”
“Then what would it be?” I asked.
“Impossible,” Saion breathed, and I’d never seen the god so unsettled. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s impossible.”
“What?” I forced out around the throbbing ache. “What is impossible?” “What I’m thinking is impossible, but I think I know what might help,”
Nyktos said and then turned to the gods. All it took was for him to send them one look, and they left the chamber. “Why don’t you lay down? I’ll be back shortly.”
For once, I didn’t argue with him. I nodded. He started for the door and then stopped. “There will be a guard outside this chamber,” he said, his head lowered slightly. “You’ll be safe.”
Nyktos slipped from the room before I could say anything, and with how badly my head ached, I couldn’t even read into that or what he’d thought was impossible. Remembering where my robe was, I went to the wardrobe and managed to slip it on. On the way back to the bed, I did stop to pick up the broken wooden leg. There was blood on the end of it, and a guard stationed outside or not, I wasn’t taking any chances.
I climbed into bed, all but burying my face in the mound of pillows. I wasn’t alone for long. Nektas arrived shortly after the Primal had left. He didn’t say a word, and my head hammered too much to be bothered by his silence.
The draken was currently out on the balcony, having left the door half- open. Every so often, when I had my eyes open, I saw him pass in front of the door as if he were checking on me.
It wasn’t all that long before he entered the chamber and announced as he had before that Nyktos was arriving.
“Can you sense him?” I asked, half of my face still planted in the pillows. Nektas nodded and stopped in the middle of the room. “Is it…the bond?”
The question earned me another nod. “Do you like being bonded to a Primal?”
He nodded once more. “For most of us, it is a choice.” Nektas looked at me then, his gaze unblinking. “We undertake the bond of our own free will, and because of that, we see it as an honor. As does the Primal.”
For most of us? “Did the bond transfer from his father to him?”
“No. It doesn’t work that way. When his father died, it severed the bond.
Those who are bonded to Nyktos have done so by choice.”
“And the ones who don’t fall into the most of us category?” I asked, wincing as the throbbing in my head told me to be quiet.
Nektas didn’t answer right away. “The bond can be forced, as nearly all things can. Some draken aren’t given that choice.”
“What…what about the draken last night? The crimson-colored one?”
“I do not know if he chose the bond or not, but I do know that Kolis does not give a choice.”
The door opened before I could ask how Kolis or any Primal could force a bond. Nyktos stalked in, carrying a large tankard. His gaze immediately landed on me and didn’t stray. “Thank you,” he said to the draken. And then to me he said, “How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
“She lies,” Nektas advised.
“How do you know?” I muttered.
“Draken have an acute sense of smell.” Nyktos sat beside me. “Along with sight and hearing.”
“Pain has a smell?”
“Everything has a scent,” Nektas answered as I eyed him wryly. “Every person has a unique scent.”
“What do I smell like?” I asked.
“You smell of…” He inhaled deeply as my lip curled. “You smell of death.”
I stared at him from my pile of pillows, mouth hanging open. “That was rude.”
Nyktos cleared his throat as he lowered his chin. “He may be speaking of me.”
“I am,” the draken confirmed.
I glanced at Nyktos and then realized what he meant. Warmth crept up my throat. “I did bathe—”
“That will not wash away such a scent,” Nektas countered.
I stared at them. “Well, that’s…even more rude to point out.”
Nektas tilted his head, and his nostrils flared when he inhaled once more. “You also smell of—”
“You can stop now,” I told him. “I changed my mind. I don’t need to know.”
He looked a bit disappointed.
“I brought you something to drink that I think might help with the headache,” Nyktos said. “It doesn’t taste the greatest, but it works.”
Pushing myself up, I reached for the tankard. “Is it some kind of tea?” I asked, curling my fingers around the warm cup. “Sir Holland made me some when I had a headache this bad before.”
“It is a tea, but I doubt it’s the same,” Nyktos answered. “This should bring you relief.”
“His tea made the headache go away.” I sniffed the dark liquid. “Smells the same.” I took a sip, recognizing the sweet and earthy, minty flavor. “Tastes the same. Chasteberry? Peppermint? And other herbs I can’t remember? And let me guess, I need to drink all of this while it’s still warm?”
Surprise flickered across Nyktos’ face. “Yes.”
“It’s the same, thank the gods.” I took a larger drink and then forced myself to down the remaining contents.
“That was…impressive,” Nektas murmured.
“It also hurt a little,” I rasped, eyes and throat stinging. “But it works, so it’s worth it.”
Nyktos took the empty tankard from me. “Are you positive that it’s the same tea?”
“Yes.” I snuggled back down onto my side. “It’s the same. Sir Holland had given me an extra pouch of the herbs in case the headache returned.”
“Did he say why he thought the tea would help?” Nektas asked.
“Not that I remember.” I shoved my hands under a pillow. “My mother has migraines, so maybe he thought I was experiencing the same and figured it would help.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” Nyktos frowned as he placed the tankard on the nightstand. “There is no way a mortal would have knowledge of this type of tea.”
I raised a brow, already feeling the pounding lessening. “Is the tea special or something?”
“It would not be known in the mortal realm.” Nektas glanced at the Primal and then his gaze landed on me. “You’re sure this Sir Holland is mortal?”
“Yes.” I laughed. “He’s mortal.” I glanced between the two of them. “Maybe the tea is more well-known than you all realize.”
“Maybe you’re wrong about this Sir Holland being mortal,” Nektas returned.
“When exactly did the headaches start?” Nyktos cut in. “You said a couple of years ago?”
My gaze shifted back to him. “I don’t know. Maybe a year and a half ago? Close to two?”
“That’s not a couple of years ago,” Nyktos pointed out.
“Sorry. My head felt like it was being ripped in two when I was being interrogated about it earlier.”
Nyktos’ lips twisted as if he were fighting a smile. “And they weren’t always intense like the one today?”
“Right. Normally, I can ignore them, and they eventually go away. This is only the second time I got one this severe.”
Nyktos studied me closely, his gaze tracking over my face as if he were searching for answers. “And the bleeding when you brush your teeth?”
“Infrequent,” I told him. “Do you think it’s something to do with a tooth? My stepfather once—”
“It’s not a tooth infection,” Nektas cut in. “Can you also smell infections?” I retorted. “Actually, yes, I can,” he said.
“Oh.” I sank a little deeper into the pillows. “That sounds kind of gross.”
“It can be,” the draken confirmed.
“Whether or not an infection smells poorly isn’t important,” Nyktos said, and I narrowed my eyes. “What you’re experiencing also isn’t a migraine.”
“I didn’t realize the Primal of Death was also a Healer,” I muttered.
He shot me a bland look. “You’re already feeling better, aren’t you?
Truly, this time.” “I am.”
“That’s it then.” He glanced at Nektas, and the draken nodded. “I think what you’re experiencing is a symptom of the Culling.”
“What?” I jerked upright, wincing as the throbbing intensified for a moment and then faded. “That’s impossible. Both my parents are mortal. I’m not a godling—”
“I’m not suggesting that you are,” Nyktos cut in, a grin appearing and then disappearing. “I think the ember of life that was placed in you is giving you similar side effects as the Culling. You’re the right age for it.”
“A bit of a late bloomer,” Nektas added.
I frowned at the draken. “I don’t understand.”
“Godlings go through the Culling because they have eather in their blood. The ember that my father placed in you is eather. That’s what fuels your gift, and it would be powerful enough to evoke symptoms—ones that can be debilitating without the right combination of herbs that was discovered ages ago by a god who had a knack for mixing potions. Took hundreds of years, or at least that’s what my father told me. A potion born of necessity since no other known medicine worked to ease the headaches and other symptoms that came with the Culling,” Nyktos explained. “It’s given to every god when they begin to go through the Culling, and to every godling we’re aware of.” The corners of his lips pulled down. “Which is why I would love to know how a mortal knew of this potion.”
So would I. But there were way more important things I wanted to know. “Does this mean I’m going to go through the Ascension?”
“It shouldn’t,” Nyktos advised. “It is only an ember of life—an ember of eather. More powerful than what would be found in a godling, but you’re not a descendant of the gods. It is not a part of you. You’ll probably have a couple more weeks or months at most of these symptoms, and then they will go away. You’ll be fine.”
I was relieved, especially after what I had learned from Aios about the Culling. Toying with the edges of my hair, I looked over at Nyktos. As the aching continued to fade with each passing moment, it was replaced by many questions and words I wanted to speak.
Nektas cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me.”
The draken didn’t wait for a response, leaving the chamber—leaving Nyktos and me alone. The Primal watched me like he always did, but there was a guarded quality that had never been there before.
“If you start to feel the headache again or any other symptom that doesn’t feel normal, the tea will stop you from experiencing more severe symptoms,” he said. “So don’t wait.”
“I won’t.” I twisted a curl around my finger.
He sat there for a moment and then started to rise. “You should get some rest. I know the tea can make you tired.”
“I know, but…”
Nyktos arched a brow, waiting.
I drew in a deep breath. “I want to talk to you about—” “About last night?”
“Well, no, but I suppose that’s part of it.”
“What happened last night won’t ever happen again,” Nyktos stated, and my fingers stilled in my hair. The finality of his words fell like a sword. “You will be safe here. You will be my Consort as planned.”
My hands slipped from my hair. “You still want me as your Consort?”
A tight smile twisted his lips. “This has never been about what either of us wants. It has only ever been about what must be done. And if we do not proceed, that alone will arouse too much suspicion.”
My heart started thumping. “I will be your Consort in title only?”
His head tilted. “Do you expect anything else? Do you think my interest in you overrides my common sense? Especially after learning of your treachery?”
The breath I took scorched my insides. “I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t expect your forgiveness or understanding. I just want a chance to—”
“To do what? Explain yourself? It is unnecessary. I know all that I need to. You were willing to do anything to save your people. I can respect that.” His features were as hard as the walls closing in around me. “I can also… respect how far you were willing to go to fulfill this duty of yours. But for what purpose? Love has never been on the table.”
I knew that. Gods I knew that after everything he’d gone through. I just hadn’t been willing to fully admit it to myself. It wasn’t love I sought. It was never that. Still, it was hard to speak what I wanted to. The words were so simple, taken for granted by many. “Friendship,” I whispered as heat swamped my throat. “There’s friendship.”
“Friendship? Even if I considered such a thing, I would never think of you. There is no way I could ever trust you. That I would not doubt or question every thought or action. Not when you were shaped and groomed to be whatever it is you believed I wanted. Not when you are just a vessel that would be empty if not for the ember of life you carry within you.”
I jerked back, my skin, body—everything—going numb.
Nyktos’ eyes flared bright, and then he turned from me. “As I said, you will be safe here. You will be my Consort in title only as we figure out exactly what my father planned for you. But this is all. There’s nothing else to discuss. Nothing else to be said.”
