I found myself in Nyktos’ office for the first time, and as I suspected, it had the bare minimum, just like his bedchamber.
His desk was massive, made of some sort of dark wood that glinted with a hint of red in the lamplight, the narrow lamp the only item on the desk. One chair sat behind the desk, and the only furniture in the room was a credenza, an end table, and the settee I was sitting on. The lounge was a light gray color and thickly cushioned. I felt as if I were sinking into the seat. Like it could swallow me whole as I stared at the empty bookshelves lining the walls.
Nyktos was checking in on Bele, who had been placed in a chamber on the second floor. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but there had been no alarms from the Rise alerting us to an impending attack. That didn’t mean any of us relaxed. Saion couldn’t stand still, moving from one side of the room to the other every couple of minutes. Ector did the same, walking in and out of the office. Both kept stealing glances at me—nervous ones. I looked over at Ector, who now stood inside the office. He stared at me and then quickly averted his gaze.
“Can I ask you two something?” I said, wincing a little at the soreness in my throat.
Saion turned, facing me. “Sure.” “Are you scared of me?”
Ector’s head jerked up. He said nothing. Neither did Saion for a long moment, but he finally spoke as he stared at the shadowstone dagger Nyktos had returned to me. I had placed it on the arm of the settee, within hand’s reach. “What you did in there should be impossible.”
I drew in a shallow breath, tucking my legs close to my chest as I sank further into the cushions.
I hadn’t just brought Bele back to life. I’d Ascended her.
“Why would that make you scared of me?” I asked.
“We’re not scared,” Ector answered, leaning against the open doorframe. “We are…unnerved. Unsettled. Disturbed. Un—”
“Got it,” I cut him off. “What I don’t understand is why it makes you all feel any of that. I couldn’t have Ascended her.” A limp curl fell across my face. “I don’t even fully understand what that means for a god.”
Saion took a step forward and stopped. “Normally? If this were hundreds of years ago and a Primal of Life Ascended a god? It would mean
—what is the right word?” He glanced at Ector. “It means entering a new stage of life. A transition.”
“What kind of transition? What can a god transition into?” As soon as I said that, my heart dropped. I remembered what Nyktos had told me. Primals were once gods. “She’s a Primal now?”
“No,” Ector said and then frowned. “At least, I don’t think she is. Her eyes changed. They were brown before. You saw them. They’re silver now. Just like a Primal. And that shockwave of energy that came out of her. That’s what happens when a god Ascends. But she’s not a Primal.”
“But she’s no longer just a god,” Saion said, crossing his arms. “There was a shift when she breathed; when she came back. A burst of energy I felt. We all felt it. I’m willing to bet she’s more powerful now. I wasn’t around when the Primals Ascended but…”
I looked at Ector. “You were.”
He nodded slowly, his jaw working as he crossed the room and leaned against the desk. “That’s what it felt like. That energy. Not as huge as when a Primal enters Arcadia and a new Primal rises. I don’t think it would’ve been felt in the mortal realm, but it was something. She may not be a Primal, but she’s Ascended, and that’s a big deal. A very unexpected big deal.”
I sensed that there was more to it. “And a bad thing?”
“For the Primal Hanan it could be,” Nyktos answered, coming through the open doors and startling me. My gaze cut to him. He’d changed his shirt and now wore a loose white one untied at the neck and untucked. He was weaponless, but what weapons did he need? “Bele Ascending means that she could challenge his position of authority over the Court of Sirta, and he would’ve felt that.”
My stomach flipped as I slowly shook my head. Hanan was the Primal of the Hunt and Divine Justice. “I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing to be said. You brought her back.” Nyktos approached me, stopping a few feet away. The wisps of eather in his eyes were faint tendrils. “Thank you.”
I opened my mouth but came up empty for several moments. “Is she… she’s okay still?”
“She sleeps. I’m beginning to think that’s common after such an act, as Gemma did the same.” His gaze lowered. “You haven’t cleaned up?”
Nyktos had ordered that I be placed here, so that’s where I’d been. He seemed to remember that because he stiffened and then looked at Ector. “Can you grab me a clean towel and a small bowl of water from the kitchen?”
Ector nodded, pushing away from the desk. Nyktos remained where he stood. “Aios is with Bele, but she told me what Gemma shared with you all.”
“Good.” To be honest, I had already forgotten everything that Gemma had shared and what I’d realized afterward. “Did she tell you about Odetta?”
“She did.”
“Can we speak with her?”
“She passed too recently for that,” he said, and disappointment seized me. His features softened. “Her death and new beginning are far too recent. It could cause her to yearn for life, which would disrupt her peace.”
“I understand.” A bittersweet emotion swept through me. I would’ve liked to have seen her, but I didn’t want to risk her—wait. My eyes narrowed on him. “You’re doing it again.”
“Sorry,” he murmured, turning as Ector returned, carrying a small white towel and a bowl. “Thank you.”
The god nodded. “I’ll wait for Nektas.” He pivoted and then stopped, turning back to me. His gaze met mine as he placed his hand over his heart and bowed at the waist. “Thank you for what you did for Bele. For all of us.”
I went completely still.
“You’re surprised by his gratitude?” Nyktos asked, placing the bowl on the table beside the untouched glass of whiskey someone had poured for me. “And I’m not reading your emotions. Your mouth is hanging open.”
I snapped it shut as I watched him wet the end of the towel and then kneel in front of me. “What are you doing?”
“Cleaning you up.”
“I can do that.” I started to reach for the towel as Saion moved to stand by the door.
“I know.” He knelt in front of me. “But I want to do it.”
My heart—my foolish, silly heart—leapt. And if I were alone, I would’ve punched myself in the chest. This desire of his was likely born of gratitude. Not forgiveness. Not understanding. I lowered my hands to my lap. “So…um, why is Ector waiting on Nektas?”
“Because just in case Odetta did know something, I summoned the Fates—the Arae.”
My heart skipped. “I thought the Primals couldn’t command the Arae?” “That’s why I’ve summoned them. They may not answer, and if they
don’t, I cannot force them to.”
I exhaled slowly. “Do…you think Odetta knew something? That the Fates were involved?”
“It’s possible.” He carefully brushed aside the half-undone braid. “The Arae usually move unseen, but…”
I peeked up at him. His jaw had hardened, and the eather burned brighter in his eyes. He stared at my throat, lines bracketing his mouth.
“He will burn in the Abyss for all eternity.” His gaze flicked to mine and then shifted away as he gently dabbed at the wound. “Odetta could’ve known something about the Fates being involved.” He refocused. “As we’ve witnessed recently, stranger things have happened. Either way, we’ll know within a couple of hours if the Arae will answer.”
I desperately tried to ignore the brush of his fingers and his fresh, citrusy scent. “How do you think Kolis or Hanan will respond to this ripple of power?”
Nyktos appeared to mull that over. “Honestly? Kolis had to know that Taric and the other gods had come. By now, I’m sure he realizes they are dead. Bele’s Ascension will probably have left him and the other Primals… unsettled.”
“She doesn’t like that word,” Saion commented. I shot him an arch look.
Nyktos moved onto a new section of the towel, dunking it into the water. “I think Kolis may hold off for a bit until he can figure out what he is dealing with.”
“And Hanan? How do you think he will react?”
“Hanan is old. He knows the truth about Kolis and my father.” He brushed the towel over the wound, and I jerked a little at the fleeting burst of biting pain. His gaze flew to mine. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I whispered, feeling my cheeks warm. “It’s nothing.”
Nyktos stared at me for a long moment and then returned to cleaning the blood from my neck. “Hanan keeps to himself. I don’t know his thoughts on Kolis, but it is unlikely that he will be thrilled by what he felt. Bele will be a threat to him. The other Primals will worry about the possibility of something occurring to them, as well.”
“Would that happen to any god I brought back?”
“That’s a good question,” Saion chimed in. “I’m thinking probably not? Like a god would have to be primed for it. Possibly already fated to Ascend.”
“Agreed,” Nyktos said. “Though, we can’t be sure when we don’t really even know how it was possible.”
“But why would it not have been possible?” I wondered. “Death is death. Life is life. Aren’t gods and mortals alike in that sense in a way?”
One side of his lips curved up, and every part of my being affixed to his faint grin. It faded too quickly. “But it’s not. A god is an entirely different being, and it requires a lot of power to do that. A lot.” He rose, picking up the bowl. “Did Taric or the gods say anything to you?”
I thought over what they’d said as Nyktos placed the bowl and towel on the desk, my thoughts going to those they’d slayed.
“What?” Nyktos turned back to me.
“Like you said after you learned about the ember, I think they were searching for me in Lasania. Or searching for the ripple of power,” I told him. “They said they’d find out if it was me these viktors were protecting.”
“Viktors.” Nyktos glanced at Saion and shook his head. “Been a long time since I’ve heard of them.”
“Same.” Saion frowned as he studied me. “But it kind of makes sense if she had viktors, especially depending on what exactly your father did.”
“They are…mostly mortal, born to serve one purpose,” Nyktos explained, sitting beside me. “To guard a harbinger of great change or purpose. Some are not aware of their duty, but they serve nonetheless through numerous mechanisms of fate—like being at the right place at the right time or introducing the one they’ve been destined to oversee to someone else. Others are aware and are part of the life of the one they’re
protecting. Sometimes, they’re called guardians. In all the time I’ve heard of them, I’ve never known there to be more than one to protect any given person.”
“And do you think that the mortals killed by those gods were these
viktors?”
“It’s possible. It’s not easy for a god or Primal to sense them. They’d have marks, just like godlings and descendants of gods have,” Nyktos explained. “You’d have to suspect that they could be that to even sense for it. And I…I didn’t.”
And why would he at the time? All he knew was that his father had made this deal. He hadn’t known what his father had done. “And by mostly mortal, what do you mean?”
“He means they’re neither mortal nor god. But they are eternal, like the Fates,” Saion said.
My brows lifted. “Well, that clarifies everything.”
Saion smirked. “They are born into their roles, much like a mortal is born, but their souls have lived many lives.”
“Reincarnated like Sotoria?” I asked.
“Yes, and no.” Nyktos leaned back. “They live like mortals, serving their purpose. They die either in the process of doing that or long after they have served, but when they die, their souls return to Mount Lotho, where the Arae are, and are given physical form once more. They remain there until it is their time once again.”
“When they’re reborn, they have no memory of their previous lives, only this calling that some may or may not figure out. It’s a way for the Fates to keep the balance equal,” Saion said. “But when they return to Mount Lotho, their memories of their lives return.”
“All of their lives?”
The god nodded, and I blew out a long breath. That could be a lot of lives to remember—a lot of deaths and losses. But also a lot of joy. If the Kazin siblings were viktors, did they know their duty? What about Andreia or the ones whose names I did not know? What about the babe?
What if that was what Sir Holland was?
My breath snagged in my chest. Could he be a viktor? He’d protected me by training me, and he never gave up. Never. And he knew about the potion. It…it made sense. And because it did, it made me want to cry.
I let my head fall back against the cushion. This was a lot to digest. It had been a lot in a short period of time.
“If you want to bathe or rest, there is time,” Nyktos offered.
I glanced at him, feeling a tug in my chest as our gazes collided. “I would like to stay here until we know if the Fates will answer. I don’t want…”
I didn’t want to go back to my chamber. I didn’t want to be alone. I had too much in my head—too much inside of me.
A silence fell over the room, and I closed my eyes. I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I must’ve dozed off. The next thing I knew, I felt a soft touch on my cheek—a poke. Blinking open my eyes, I realized that my head was lying on Nyktos’ thigh, and I was staring into the crimson-hued eyes of a young boy, maybe nine or ten years old with shaggy, sandy blond hair.
Crimson eyes with thin, vertical pupils. “Hi,” the child said.
“Hello,” I whispered.
His head tilted, his small, elfin face perplexed. “I thought you were dead.”
What the…? “You’re not.”
“No?” At least, I didn’t think I was.
“Both of you sleep,” the boy stated with a nod of his head. “He didn’t hear me enter. He always hears me.”
Nyktos stirred, apparently hearing him then. His thigh tensed under my cheek.
Jerking sideways, I placed my hands on the cushions and unfurled my legs. The child watched me with a very serious expression for someone so young.
“Reaver,” Nyktos said, voice rough with sleep. “What are you doing?”
I nearly choked on my breath as I stared at the light-haired boy, trying to reconcile the sight of him as a draken with that of a child. It was somehow odder than seeing Jadis briefly as a little girl.
“I was watching you all sleep,” Reaver answered. My lips pursed.
“I’m sure that’s not the only thing you were doing,” Nyktos replied, leaning forward. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hair slide over his
cheek. “You must have a reason for being in here.”
“I do.” He stood straight in his sleeveless tunic and loose pants, the same gray color as the tunics Nektas often wore. “Nektas sent me to get you. He’s in the throne room.”
“Okay. We’ll be there in a minute.”
Reaver nodded curtly and then glanced at me. “Bye.”
“Bye.” I gave him an awkward wave I wasn’t even sure he saw as he darted from the room on small, fast legs. “He is…”
“Intense?”
A strangled laugh left me. “Yeah.” I scooted to the edge of the settee. “Sorry,” I mumbled, thinking he probably didn’t appreciate me using him as a pillow. “About sleeping on you.”
“It’s okay,” Nyktos said after a moment, and I looked over at him. He was staring ahead, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t mean to sleep, but you needed the rest. Both of us did.” He rose then, looking down at me. “If Nektas sent him, that means the Fates answered.”
My heart tripped over itself, and I stood so rapidly I got dizzy. I stepped back, bumping into the settee.
Nyktos reached out, placing his hand on my arm. “Are you okay?” “Yes.”
His eyes searched mine. “Do you have a headache?” “N-No. I think I just stood up too fast.”
Nyktos stared down at me. “I think it’s the blood.” A muscle ticked along his jaw. “Too much has been taken from you. Your body hasn’t had a chance to replenish.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted as I started to step away but stopped, taking in the tightness of his features. “Don’t feel bad about feeding from me.”
He was quiet.
“You needed the blood. I’m glad I could do that for you,” I told him. “If I’m a little dizzy because of blood loss, that’s on Taric. Not you.”
Still, he said nothing.
I was starting to feel a bit foolish. Perhaps I had misread him. “Anyway, I just wanted to make that clear. We should get going—”
The only warning I got was the scent of citrus and fresh air. I hadn’t even seen him close the distance between us, but I felt his palm against my cheek, and his mouth on mine in the same heartbeat.
Nyktos kissed me.
The feel of his lips—his warm lips—was a heady shock, and the way he tugged at my lower lip with his fangs sent tiny, hot shivers through me. I opened for him, kissing him back just as fiercely as his mouth moved against mine. The way he kissed me was hard, demanding. Claiming. He sent my senses spinning. I was dizzy again, but this time, it was all because of him. The kiss left me rattled, and I didn’t want him to stop. I started to reach for him—
Nyktos lifted his mouth from mine and stepped back, his hand lingering on my cheek before falling away. He looked as shaken as I felt, his features stark, eyes a storm of eather, his chest moving in deep, rapid breaths.
“That…” Nyktos swallowed, briefly closing his eyes. When they reopened, the eather had slowed. “That changes nothing.”
 |
Nyktos’ words lingered just like his kiss did as we left his office and walked to the throne room.
There was a twisting motion in my chest as if someone had reached inside and started squeezing my heart. But there was something else at my core. Something small and faint that reminded me of hope. I didn’t know what to make of either emotion, but as we neared the chamber, I shoved those feelings aside to dwell on later.
Rhahar and Ector stood at the archway of the chamber. They were not alone. An unfamiliar man stood with them, his sandy-blond hair brushing broad shoulders adorned in a belted, light gray tunic. His face was weathered and sun-warmed. Beside him stood a goddess. I knew what she was at once. It was the ethereal quality of her features and the faint luminous glow under her light brown skin. Her hair was the color of honey, a few shades lighter than the gown she wore, and her eyes were the brightest blue I’d ever seen. As we approached, the man placed a hand over his heart and bowed at the waist, as did the goddess.
“Penellaphe?” Surprise filled Nyktos’ tone.
“Hello, Nyktos.” She straightened, stepping forward. She glanced briefly in my direction. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”
“Too long,” he confirmed. “I hope all is well?”
“I am.” Penellaphe’s smile was brief, fading as she looked at me again. Nyktos followed her gaze. “This is—”
“I know who she is,” Penellaphe cut in, and my brows lifted. “She is why I’m here.”
“I am?”
She nodded, looking back to Nyktos. “You summoned the Arae.” “I did, but…”
“But I am not the Arae. You’ll understand why I’ve come,” she said, stepping back. Her hands clasped together. “One of the Arae waits inside for you. For both of you.”
Curiosity marked Nyktos’ face as he looked over at me. I nodded and Penellaphe turned to the male. “Wait for us here?” she asked.
“Of course,” he answered.
She inclined her head. “Thank you, Ward.”
I glanced over at him as we passed. I couldn’t tell if he was a godling or a mortal, but I didn’t see any aura in his eyes. Rhahar and Ector stepped aside as Penellaphe drifted past them. I quickened my pace as Nyktos looked back, his steps slowing. I caught up with him as we entered the now-candlelit chamber.
Nektas approached us, his long hair tied back, with Reaver at his side. “Thank you.” Nyktos paused to clasp the draken’s shoulder.
“We will wait for you in the hall,” Nektas said, nodding in my direction as he guided Reaver forward with a hand on the back of his head. “We will wait for both of you.”
A lump formed in my throat. I wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was because Nektas had acknowledged me. I swallowed hard, looking toward the thrones and the dais. Maybe I just needed more sleep or—
Everything in me froze. My legs wouldn’t move. My mind went blank because what I was seeing—who I saw standing before the dais, bathed in the soft light of the candles and stars—left me stunned. It made no sense. None at all. My eyes must have been playing tricks on me.
Because it couldn’t be Sir Holland.
