A light in the flame

I swallowed the sourness gathering in the back of my throat. “What could any of them do? Holland would’ve been sent away or killed for speaking out—or at least they would’ve tried. He intervened more than once, in ways that he could. And I don’t think Ezra knew the full of extent of Tavius’s behavior.”

“You defend them?”

“Because they deserve to be defended. He was a Prince, and I was—” I cut myself off and squeezed my eyes shut, unsure why I had even told him any of this. It had to be the shock of everything, the adrenaline wearing off, and the exhaustion settling in. Maybe it was because it felt as if there was no reason to hide when he already knew other ugly truths. When I knew how all of this would end. It could’ve just been the damn whiskey.

“You were a Princess.”

“I was never that.”

Nyktos didn’t speak, and I didn’t open my eyes. Several moments passed before he said, “When I didn’t take you as my Consort, I wasn’t giving you your freedom.”

A faint tremor ran through me. It wasn’t a question. It needed no answer.

“I’m sorry, Sera.”

My eyes flew open, every part of my being seizing as I let go of my sweater. He’d lifted his head, and with his eyes on me, seeing me—really seeing me—it made his apology all the more unbearable. My skin burned hotly. My chest seized. “I don’t want your apology,” I choked out. “I didn’t tell you any of that to get it. I don’t want your pity or your sympathy.”

“I know.” He touched my cheek, his fingers damp but warm. “Breathe, Sera.”

I sucked in air.

“I could never pity someone as strong and brave as you,” Nyktos said. “But you do have my sympathy and my apologies.”

I leaned back, but his hand followed. “I don’t want that. Or need it and—”

“I know,” he repeated, his thumb coasted across my cheek. “But they are there in case you are in need of them one day.”

Raw emotion swelled so quickly that I had to close my eyes again, because if I didn’t, that mess of emotion would make itself painfully visible.

Nyktos’s thumb stilled. “I will go right now and end your miserable excuse of a mother’s life and take her soul into the Abyss, placing it beside Tavius’s, where it belongs.”

My eyes snapped open. “You can’t mean that.”

“I have never meant anything more in my entire life,” he swore. “All you have to do is say yes, and it will be done.”

I sucked in air as a terrible part of me lifted its wretched head. The part that existed beyond the veil of nothing, that hid beneath the blank canvas and was the fire that forged the vessel into place. The part of me that wanted to scream yes and revel in the knowledge that it was I who’d brought about her end. Me. The one who wasn’t even worth looking in the eye half the time. The irony was too sweet. Wouldn’t it be? For it was she who’d built that canvas and wielded that fire.

Nyktos waited, and in that moment, I knew he would do it. Not because he was fond of me or cared, but because he felt responsible. Guilty. Maybe even remorseful. Sympathetic.

I exhaled roughly and forced out, “No.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. It wouldn’t be…it wouldn’t be worth it in the end.” I didn’t want her blood on my hands. I already had enough.

“If you ever change your mind, I know a guy who can get it done.”

I shook with a wet-sounding laugh. “Was that a Primal of Death joke?”

“Perhaps.” Several long moments passed. Neither of us moved. His hand was still on my cheek. Our eyes were locked, and the contact, the closeness…I soaked it in. Then he drew back and lowered his hand, and I missed his touch immediately. “You need to rest,” he continued before I could say anything. “And I’m not ordering you about. If you choose not to, it’s up to you. But your body needs it. Whether you want to admit it or not, the Culling causes everyone to weaken more easily, and you’ve already pushed past that once. The headaches will come back faster and worse than before, and you could go into another rest.”

“I don’t want that,” I murmured.

“Good. Neither do I.” His gaze tracked over my face. “The embers of life in you are very strong.”

“Yeah, I figured. You know”—I lifted my hands, wiggling my fingers—“I can bring people back from the dead and, apparently, summon them when I’m really angry.”

There was a slight warming in his eyes. “I wasn’t talking about either of those things. You were cut with shadowstone. That would kill a mortal. It would also kill a godling. Your skin and veins would already bear the mark of it, and what blood of mine you have in you wouldn’t have stopped it.”

“Oh.” My eyes went wide. He was right. I’d forgotten. Looking down, I yanked up my sweater. The cut was there, angry but no longer bleeding. “Wow.”

“Yes. Wow,” he repeated dryly.

A giggle crept up my throat, and that was totally the whiskey.

Nyktos smiled faintly. “Makes you wonder how else the Primal embers may be protecting you.”

Chapter 13

There was a padlock on the balcony doors when I returned to my chambers.

Obviously, that wasn’t to stop someone from taking me. It wasn’t necessary with the charm.

Part of me couldn’t be all that mad about seeing it there. I smirked as I stared at it. Did he think I couldn’t pick a lock? The lock wasn’t the only new addition to the room, though. It took an ungodly amount of time for me to see the book lying on the table by the doors, and I thought it was the one Orphine had been reading.

I ate my supper, once more alone. Fresh water came quickly after that, and I cleaned up as I had before. The wound on my side hadn’t reopened, and as I gently prodded the skin, I thought it looked like a cut that was several days old instead of merely hours.

Makes you wonder how else the Primal embers may be protecting you.

I was begi

More tired than I wanted to acknowledge, I dragged on a heavy forest green robe that I hadn’t worn yet, not even bothering with a nightgown. I went to the chaise and picked up the book. The writing was faint but legible, and yet the words still blurred as I stared at the page. I couldn’t focus. As the hour grew late, Nyktos’s plan occupied my thoughts. If and when Hanan would send more warriors, the questions I had about this army I didn’t know existed, and the fact that I couldn’t believe I’d spoken about Tavius or my life in Lasania. I didn’t like to think about those last two things, let alone speak about them. It made me feel itchy in my skin.

Rising, I went to the table and picked up the bottle of wine brought in with supper. It was sweet, and I took one long swallow, then another as I tried to distract myself with the book. That was a failure because the wine sure hadn’t helped the process. It had me staring at Nyktos’s door more and more, considering really foolish things.

I shrugged off the robe, letting it lay where it fell. I didn’t bother putting on a stitch of clothing, too warm from the crackling flames in the fireplace and the wine. I then put myself to bed before the wine goaded me into doing something reckless.

Like going to that damn door.

I smirked, imagining Nyktos’s reaction if I walked into his chamber, naked as the day I was born. He would…

What would he do?

My smirk faded as I turned my head, looking at the door. My thoughts found their way in there. In my mind, I saw his massive bed. Was he there? Resting? Or was he unable to sleep, too? Was he thinking of dark events that had taken place over the last several days? Or was he thinking about us on his bed?

I closed my eyes at the sharp pulse of desire. Shifting onto my back, I searched for something else to dwell on, but my mind betrayed me. It took me right back into his bedchamber, showing us on the bed, me on my knees, and Nyktos’s large body caging mine as he had on the Rise. There was nothing between our sweat-slick bodies, and every stroke of his was deep. It was a pleasure that had bordered on punishing. The fierceness of how he moved was far too easy to recall. It didn’t even seem like a memory, not when I could feel him even now, between my thighs and inside me. I closed my eyes, biting down on my lip as the need returned.