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“Anyone?”
“Anyone who poses a threat.” Orphine smiled tightly, and there was nothing warm about that smile. “To you. Not him, which is unfortunate.”
Saion smirked.
Well, I supposed I didn’t have to wonder any longer if Orphine knew what I’d pla
“For even thinking about killing Nyktos? Yes.” Orphine snapped the book shut with one hand and pushed off the wall. She took a step toward me, and Saion tensed, his hand going to the sword at his hip. I fought the instinct screaming at me to back up. The draken was about my height, and the sleeveless tunic she wore clung to rounded hips. She looked soft. But so did I. “Nyktos is…special to us.”
Ice crept up the back of my neck as I held her stare.
“But so are you.” A lock of hair fell against her arched cheek. “You are life.” Her voice lowered…and I swore faint wisps of smoke wafted from her nostrils. “And that is the only reason you still breathe.”
I’d gone into my bedchamber without saying much, because how could I respond to what Orphine had said? Thanks for recognizing the value of the embers and not burning me alive?
I hadn’t been left alone for long, though. Baines, a mortal or godling I’d met my first night here, brought in some hot water. Like all who worked in the House of Haides, he did so out of choice—because he wanted to be of service to Nyktos.
That was the kind of loyalty Nyktos inspired.
I sat on the chaise, uncomfortable with Baines’ presence even after he’d left—not because of him, but because of what his arrival had meant. Nyktos had sent him. The act would likely be considered small by most and easily overlooked, but not by me. It had been…incredibly thoughtful of him. And I didn’t want him to be thoughtful. Or kind. I also recognized how messed-up those thoughts were.
You are his weakness.
Swallowing, I glanced down at the dagger Nyktos had given me after destroying my old one. I totally understood his reaction. I had, sort of, accidentally plunged my dagger into his heart, but I’d been furious, nonetheless. That dagger had been mine, and so few things belonged to me.
But Nyktos had more than made up for it with this gift. The first-ever present that belonged only to me.
The dagger was truly a piece of art with its smooth, lightweight handle and the pommel of the hilt crafted into the shape of a crescent moon. The shadowstone blade itself was delicate yet fierce, shaped like a thin hourglass and deadly sharp on both sides. The bladesmith had carved a dragon into the dagger, its spiked tail following the curve of the blade and the scaled body and head carved into the hilt where it breathed fire.
Nyktos had taken it away once he learned of my betrayal. But what the god Taric had done—the feeding and the prying into my memories—had been so painful and terrifying that I hadn’t been able to hide that from Nyktos, let alone myself. He’d sensed my terror and acted upon it.
You may feel fear, but you are never afraid, he’d said and then pressed the hilt of the dagger into the palm of the one who had once sworn to use such a weapon against him.
Could losing the ability to love increase one’s capacity to be kind? I didn’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that it could.
A knot swelled in my chest as I rose and walked to the doorway of the bathing chamber. I stopped. The space was far lovelier than the stifling chamber I used in Wayfair. Clean water had rarely been brought into that chamber—let alone hot—and I’d often preferred to bathe in the lake. A pang of yearning twisted my heart. Would I ever get to see my lake again? Feel its cool water ru
Thoughts heavy, my gaze roamed over the tub. My hand went to my throat. Soaking in the steaming water would be divine, but I couldn’t even if I had time. Not when I could practically feel the sash from my robe digging into my skin and cutting off my air.
I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to relax in a tub again.
Forcing myself into the bathing chamber, I stripped off the ruined sweater and breeches, placing the top and my undergarments into a small basket. Using one of the washcloths, I bathed without using the tub, cleaning away the dried blood from my fight with the gods in the throne room. I glanced at the mirror, only looking at the bite mark on my throat. The two puncture wounds were still an angry shade of red. Taric had bitten in the same spot that Nyktos had. No two bites could be more different. One had brought pleasure, the other immense pain.
Swallowing, I glanced down at my breast. The bite Nyktos had left there, just above my nipple, was a calmer reddish pink. I brushed my fingers over the shallow indentations and gasped at the sharp pulse of desire that shot through the pit of my stomach. I jerked my hand away. Thinking of his mouth on my skin, the pierce of his fangs, would do me no good at the moment.
Pulling on a slip and a dressing robe made of crushed velvet dyed black, I went to the balcony and tugged the drapes aside. The sky was a muted shade of gray now, the stars dim.
You’re his weakness.
“What am I doing?” I whispered, looking around the chamber. There was no answer. Or maybe there was one, but I just didn’t want to acknowledge it because I knew what I had to do.
Only I didn’t want to do it.
That knowledge did little to calm my racing heart. I started pacing and didn’t stop until a honey-haired draken arrived with supper. Davina silently placed the covered dish and wine on the table. She didn’t even look in my direction, and I had no idea if it was because she had learned of my betrayal or not. Davina had never been the friendliest draken.
“Has…Nyktos returned?” I asked.
She arched a brow at me, said nothing, and stalked out of the room. I was alone once more. The food was delicious, but I couldn’t remember what it was as soon as I placed the lid over the dish, eyeing the door that co
Was it still unlocked?
I stood, taking several steps toward the door before stopping myself. Pushing out a deep breath, I returned to the chaise and tucked my legs under me. I was tired, and a seed of concern took root, despite all the many valid reasons explaining why I would be worn down: the lack of sleep. Feeding Nyktos. Taric’s bite. Learning the truth about the embers, and, well…the stress of everything else. That’s what I told myself as I closed my eyes. It was the only way I could fall asleep—something I needed if I was going to figure out what to do. Because if I acknowledged the other reason, that it was the Culling, there would be no rest for sure. Because the Culling ended only one way.
With my death.
A deafening crack woke me, and it took more than a couple of moments for me to remember where I was.
Slowly sitting up, I looked around the chamber lit by a lone wall sconce by the doors. Had it been thunder? That didn’t seem right. I didn’t think it could storm in the Shadowlands.
I started to rise but stopped myself as a soft blanket slid to my waist. Frowning, I sank my fingers into the plush material and glanced at the basket it had been rolled up in—now empty. I didn’t remember getting the blanket before sitting down.
A sudden intense light flashed from outside, lighting the entire space. I jumped to my feet, my heart thumping as I went to the balcony doors. That was way too bright for lightning, but the boom of thunder followed, just as the chamber doors swung wide.
Orphine rushed inside, her crimson eyes as luminous as polished rubies. “Do not go out there.”