A light in the flame

“This isn’t his fault, Ash.” I swallowed, smoothing my thumb over the hard skin of his forearm. “You’re hurting him, and he doesn’t deserve this. You don’t deserve another mark. Let him go. Please.”

A second passed. Just a heartbeat. But it felt like an eternity as he stared down at me, his body taut with power and violence, the striking lines of his features twisted in rage.

Then he released the god.

Well, dropped him.

Either way, Delfai was free.

He landed hard enough to shake a few more books free. They hit the floor around him as he leaned onto his side, hand at his throat, wheezing. Injured but alive.

I didn’t let go of Ash’s arm, and he didn’t look away from me as I forced him back from Delfai. Slowly, the shadows faded from his flesh, and the eather receded from his eyes.

“I should be dead,” Delfai rasped. “I’ve seen my death.”

Frowning, I glanced at the god but didn’t let go of Ash’s arm.

“You were supposed to kill me.” Delfai leaned back against the bookshelf, patches of skin along his arms and neck charred. My stomach churned. “That was how I died.”

“Well, you’re not dead, thanks to her.” Ash’s jaw worked as he glared at the god as if he were about to change his mind. “Congratulations.”

Delfai’s fingers stilled around his throat. “It may be cause for celebration.” His hand dropped to his lap. “Perhaps there is a silver beast and a brightest moon. Two. Not one,” he rambled. “Two then one.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Ash demanded.

“Nothing.” He smiled widely, revealing blood-streaked teeth. “Nothing but hope.”

There was a good chance that Ash had done some damage to Delfai’s mind because what he’d prattled on about made no sense. Silver beast? Brightest moon? It reminded me of the title Ash had given me, but I really didn’t know why he’d be rambling about that—and it honestly didn’t matter.

Neither of us spoke as we left Cauldra Manor, passing guards who hastily bowed but kept a healthy distance. I’d wanted to say goodbye to Kayleigh but knew it wouldn’t be wise for us to linger.

Not when violent, frenetic eather still leaked into the air around Ash.

And I didn’t think I had it in me to hold an appropriate conversation. My mind was too focused on what was to come.

What could no longer be denied.

It was the strangest damn thing as we made our way down the rocky hill, feeling the sun’s warmth on my face. The devastation of all the what-ifs that would not happen. The knowledge that the end was truly coming this time. And the utter collapse of hope.

It was all rather…freeing.

A calmness settled over me.

The ever-present pressure on my chest was still there, but it didn’t squeeze as tightly as it had. And maybe it was because I’d always expected to die. Maybe it was because the soul inside me had also lived through many deaths.

After all, death had been my constant companion, an old friend that I always knew, deep down, would visit one day.

I looked at Ash. He stared straight ahead, the muscle in his jaw ticking with each step. We’d just reached the pines when I said, “Stop.”

“We need to return to the Shadowlands,” he bit out.

“We need to talk.”

“I need to think.”

The breath I took was shaky as I followed him into the thick stand of pines. “You have to do it.”

Ash halted. “There is nothing I have to do.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” I stopped a few feet from him, understanding dawning. “You…you knew how to remove the embers from me this whole time, didn’t you?”

His shoulders went rigid.

“Gods,” I whispered hoarsely. Because I knew—I knew—I was right.

“I didn’t know for sure. It’s not like there has ever been another like you—a mortal with Primal embers in them.” His head bowed. “But I figured that draining you completely was a possibility.”

He could’ve done that at any time. Taken the embers from me. He could’ve Ascended. Stopped Kolis. Stopped Veses. But he hadn’t.

Because he knew that it would kill me.

I let my head fall back as I dragged in deep, stinging breaths.

“But I knew that wasn’t how Kolis took the embers,” Ash gritted out. “I knew there had been another way.”

But there wasn’t.

Blinking the dampness from my eyes, I lowered my head. “We came here to learn how to transfer the embers, and now we know.”

He said nothing, but the air thi

My heart began to pound as my throat tightened. “There is no other option. We can’t allow someone else to learn about the embers and take them.”

Slowly, he faced me, his features stark. “There has to be another way. Maybe the Star—”

“How would we retrieve it? Do you know where Kolis keeps it? Know anyone who would be willing to share that little piece of information with us? No. And even if we could find the Star, you heard what Delfai said. It’s too late. The embers have merged with me. Removing them will kill me either way, and I—I don’t want to die.”

“Glad to hear that you finally feel that way.”

I ignored that. “I want a future. I want to live. I want to experience a life where I have control of my future. I want us,” I whispered. “But I need a future where we defeat Kolis and the Rot goes away. Where those in Iliseeum and in the mortal realm are safe. That’s what’s important. The only thing that matters.”

“No, it is not the only damn thing that matters, Sera.” His eyes flashed. “You. Not the godsdamn embers. Not the fucking realms. You matter.”

My breath snagged as I closed my eyes against the wealth of emotion that rose. I…I did matter. Me. But this wasn’t about only me. I knew that. So did he. “There’s no other way.” A tremor went through me as I opened my eyes. “I understand that. And it’s not your fault.”

He looked away, swallowing. “Stop—”

“It’s not,” I insisted. “This isn’t right or fair, but you know what you have to do, Ash.”

“Do not,” he snarled, head snapping back to mine. He took a short, measured step toward me and then shadowstepped, appearing directly in front of me. “Do not call me that when you speak of me ending your life so casually.”

Pressure seized my chest as a knot lodged in my throat—a mix of emotions too raw for me to fully understand. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” A ragged laugh left him. “Fates, you are sorry. I can taste it. Vanilla but tangy.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You feel sympathy—anguish—for me.”

I sucked in a short breath, pressing my right palm to my heart. Sympathy. Anguish. That and bone-deep resolution were what I felt. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Neither have you.”

“How the fuck can you even say that?” Ash roared, loud enough that even with the distance we’d traveled, it was still likely someone heard. I doubted anyone would dare to venture into the pines, though. “Because there was another option. I could’ve saved you.”

“This isn’t on you.” Reaching up, I clasped his cool cheeks. He started to pull away, but I held on as the embers hummed. Essence shattered his eyes—anger and agony, too. I drew in a short breath and nearly choked on the scent of pine. “Even if you had your kardia, Ash, there was no guarantee you’d love me—”

“Yes, there is.” His eyes were wide and wild as he caught my wrists. “I would’ve loved you if I could have. There would’ve been no stopping me.”

A jolt ran through me. His declaration was as powerful as one of love, and it shook me. Rattled me until the embers began to hum and throb, until I tasted the eather gathering in the back of my throat. The corners of my eyes started to brighten.