A light in the flame

What he said sounded almost part prophecy. Magical. And completely beautiful.

Flecks of essence swirled through his eyes as he lifted his chin. “Rise for the Consort of the Shadowlands.”

All across the coliseum, Primals and gods, mortals and godlings rose as Ash lifted our joined hands high between us, applause lifting to where the draken were perched on the pillars—

I gasped at the sudden, intense series of tingles erupting along the palm pressed to Ash’s. My gaze swung to our joined hands as silvery-white light swirled around our palms and down our arms as the embers in my chest hummed fiercely in response. The glow of the eather reflected off Ash’s face as his eyes widened slightly. The crowd went silent.

“Is that you?” I whispered.

“No,” he rasped, features sharpening, skin thi

“W-what?” I only recognized one word spoken in the Primal language.

Ash swallowed thickly. “Imprint,” he translated, staring at me in…awe as shocked murmurs eroded the silence. “It must be the Arae. They’ve given their blessing.”

The Arae? Holland? I slowly looked out over the audience, catching only glimpses of slack jaws and wide-eyed Primals. My gaze co

The crowd erupted in cheers—feet and shields slamming into the floor as all the Primals but this one stood in open-mouthed silence. This Primal gave me a small smile and pressed a hand free of jewels to the center of her chest before nodding.

I sucked in a shallow breath as Ash stepped back, guiding me to the throne. Heart thumping, our hands remained joined as we sat—as a sudden rumble echoed through the Shadowlands. A burst of intense, silvery fire lit the sky beyond the pillars as the draken lining the columns lifted their heads, letting out a staggering, high-pitched call. With wide eyes, I watched them take flight, circling the coliseum as a larger, thicker shadow fell over the crowd, blotting out the starlight. A gust of wind stirred the strings of lights and lifted the tendrils of my hair as I looked up.

Massive black-and-gray wings spread out as Nektas descended from above, landing in front of the thrones. Sweeping his wings back over our heads, his front talons slammed down on the edge of the dais. The thick frills around his head vibrated as a sound like thunder rolled from him. Those near the dais took several steps back, exchanging wary glances as smoke wafted from Nektas’s flared nostrils, and I looked at Ash…

My husband.

Ash’s lips curved into a shadow of a smile as he squeezed my hand and then released it. I drew my hand back and slowly looked down at it.

A series of luminous golden swirls swept over the top of my hand and between my thumb and pointer finger, sweeping in several whirls along the lines of my palm. I looked at Ash’s hand.

He bore the same mark as I did.

“It’s an imprint,” Ash explained quietly, his left hand—the newly inked one—closed and resting on the table that had been placed before the thrones. “It appears when a union is favored.”

“By the Fates?” I traced the golden swirls on the inside of my palm. Unlike the charm that had been placed on me, this imprint didn’t fade into my skin.

“I suppose they could do such a thing,” he said in a low voice, leaning in so I could hear him. I imagine to those celebrating down below, it looked as if he were whispering sweet nothings.

“So, they didn’t?” I stared at the golden marks.

“I don’t think so.”

“You lied?”

He brushed a curl back over my shoulder. “Just a little. I had to give some sort of explanation for what has been rather impossible. No one has been blessed upon their union in many centuries.”

I arched a brow. “Then how did this happen?”

His fingers lingered around the curl as he said, “My father was known to do this when he favored a union and wanted it known to all others. He’d give his blessing.”

I then remembered Ash mentioning that, but if this were something his father would do, it was something the true Primal of Life could do, meaning… My lips parted. “It was the embers.”

Ash leaned back with a smile, turning his gaze to the crowd.

“And they will believe it was the Arae?”

“The Fates are capable of anything,” he answered. “So, it’s more than possible that they could do something of the sort.”

And yet, Ash was pretty confident that it hadn’t been them.

Looking down at my hand, I drew my finger along a shimmering whirl. Had it been the embers? Or had it been me? Either way, it seemed a little…self-indulgent to favor one’s own union.

“It won’t rub off,” Ash commented under his breath.

My finger ceased moving as I glanced over at him. He was watching the Primal with the crown of ruby antlers. Hanan. He stood with Kyn. Both appeared as if they were one refill away from being highly intoxicated. It was likely that I, too, would end up that way if I continued drinking instead of eating. In my defense, it was quite difficult to stuff my face at a table that had been prepared on the dais, in plain view of the thousands of people in attendance.

Meanwhile, Aios sat with several masked guests behind the dais. I would’ve preferred that.

“I’m not trying to rub it off,” I said, watching Kyn once more. What had Attes told him about the young draken, Thad? I’d learned that morning that he’d been brought to the Shadowlands and was currently in the mountains. “I just can’t stop touching it.”

“Hopefully, you’ll get used to it,” he told me. “The only way it fades is upon death, and I don’t plan on that occurring.”

I blinked as I closed my hand. “What if we decided to no longer continue this union?”

“Honestly?” He looked over at me, his brows pinched. A moment passed. “Not sure. None who’ve borne the imprint chose to separate.”

I wondered if he was thinking about the deal I’d struck with him—the bid for my freedom. But that was before I realized that I was…in love with him. Now, I wasn’t sure what to think about the deal we’d struck. Being done with him didn’t feel like freedom. It felt like a different kind of prison. I shook my head, telling myself there would be time later to dwell on all of that. “Are others with the imprint still alive?”

Ash shook his head. “Those my father blessed no longer live.”

A chill crawled down my spine. I didn’t have to ask. I knew. Kolis. Killing those his brother had favored for whatever reason sounded like Kolis’s particular brand of childish cruelty for the sake of cruelty.

But didn’t that make the imprint feel like a bit of an omen? I slipped my inked hand beneath the table to my lap as I looked out over the revelers. Ash had already pointed out the Primals I hadn’t recognized.

Maia. The Primal Goddess of Love, Beauty, and Fertility was just as she’d always been depicted. Full-figured and utterly stu

I’d recognized Phanos, but it would be hard to miss him in the crowd. He was taller than all other Primals, possibly even Ash, and bore a crown shaped like a trident. He stood at least half a foot above all others, his bald head a burnt umber under the glow of the string lights. I’d tensed when I saw him briefly speaking to Saion and Rhahar, but no one else seemed that concerned, and he’d eventually walked off with the Primal of Wisdom, Loyalty, and Duty.