A light in the flame

Nektas watched me curiously.

I cleared my throat, fiddling with the loose sleeve of my gown. It was a rose gold one. The gown was without much flourish, but the sleeves, which loosened at the elbow and fluttered to just above the wrist, gave it a delicate feel. The bodice would’ve been considered modest if that area actually fit. I feared that the seams would burst at any second, but I’d liked that the gown had been cut with two slits on each side of the skirt, ending just below the mid-thigh. It made for easy access to the dagger I sheathed there.

And I sort of felt…pretty in it. It wasn’t all that often that I wore one that was so soft and not completely see-through like the godsforsaken wedding gown. If I didn’t come up with a better plan, stopping the coronation was highly unlikely, so I really hoped the gown for that was somewhat…decent.

“I slept well,” I managed.

“Good.” Nektas sat on the couch. He’d brought my breakfast this morning, and unlike everyone else, he stayed. Though he hadn’t said much until now, it was nice to have company. “I remember when Ash went through the Culling. He slept terribly—worse than he normally does.”

“Is that common?”

“For some. But I think for those who already don’t sleep all that well, the Culling worsens it.”

So had he been awake, lying in his bed? Nibbling on the last of the bread, I eyed the door to his chambers, and my stomach gave another tumble. What would Nyktos say when he saw me?

Better yet, what would I say?

Because I knew what last night had meant. What hadn’t changed. Nyktos still wanted me. It wasn’t just a bodily need he couldn’t control. I already knew that.

But I didn’t know what I would do with that information. I knew what I should do. Forget about it. Ignore it. Nyktos wanted me in a carnal sense. Sex wasn’t affection or acceptance. It meant nothing but a complication to an already messy situation. But I wanted him—his touch, the feel of him against my skin and inside me, coming undone. I wanted that. Not because I had to. Not for any other reason than it was what I wanted.

But everything that only sex offered was temporary, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted more. I wasn’t even sure what more was. Companionship? Trust? Comfort? That all sounded like more, but I didn’t know. And I didn’t even know why I wanted more when my life could be whittled down to months instead of years if Nyktos’s plans didn’t work. It would make sense if I wanted right now. And why couldn’t I want that? Have that?

“You finished eating?” Nektas asked.

Blinking, I glanced down at my nearly empty plate and nodded.

“And are you done deep-thinking while you stare at a door?”

My lips pursed. “Yes.”

Nektas rose with a half-grin. “I need to go check on my daughter.” He stopped, glancing over his shoulder at me. “You coming?”

I held myself still, even though I wanted to leap from the chair because I was…well, I didn’t want to be an interloper. Feeling entirely unsure of what I was doing, I lifted a shoulder. “I guess?”

“Then let’s go.” Nektas opened the doors. “She’s likely no longer napping and seconds away from crawling out of a window, like her new friend.”

I sighed.

Nektas hadn’t been entirely incorrect. Jadis had been awake, and she was trying to reach the handle on the door that led to the balcony. She rushed her father, chirping and yipping and then greeted me with the same enthusiasm. From there, she took her father’s hand and led us out of the chamber. Once in the hall, she let out a series of excited chirps as she jumped higher, fluttering her wings until she was able to hover for a few seconds.

“That means she’s happy that you’re joining us on her adventure,” Nektas exclaimed.

I smiled, relieved. “As am I.”

Her adventure took us to the main floor and the hall opposite Nyktos’s offices, into some kind of receiving chamber outfitted with formal, stiff-backed chairs and a narrow table. I wondered if meetings or card games were held at that table as Jadis inspected each piece of furniture with an admirable sense of curiosity.

When Nektas left to retrieve a pitcher of water and glasses, I was petrified that something terrible would befall Jadis while he was gone. She kept trying to scale the legs of the desk for some unknown reason, and I’d never been more grateful to see him return.

He wasn’t alone.

A purplish-black-scaled draken only a few feet tall was with Nektas.

Reaver chirped a greeting as he started toward me. He didn’t make it very far. Jadis all but tackled him, wrapping her slender arms around his stomach, trapping one of his wings between them.

I watched them, awed. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to seeing the draken in this form. And to think they could grow to the size of Jadis’s father?

Nektas joined me at the table while his daughter became solely focused on playing with Reaver.

Which meant chasing him around the room like a little dirt devil.

“In case you’re wondering,” Nektas said, pouring water into one of the wide cups, “they are always like this.”

I gri

“I didn’t get a chance to ask what you thought of Ash’s plan,” Nektas said as the two made another wide, wild run around the table. “The whole removing the embers part.”

“I’m…tentatively hopeful.” Tucking a strand of hair back behind my ear, I glanced over at him. “Do you think it will work?”

“I ca

I frowned. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”

“It’s not meant to be.” Nektas caught his daughter’s arm as they made yet another run around the table. He held her still until she took several hasty gulps of water, and then he let her go.

She immediately went back to chasing Reaver.

“Delfai will have answers for us.” Nektas placed the glass back on the table. “But Ash seeks to do what has only been done once before. There’s no telling what is or isn’t possible.”

I hated not knowing and having to wait to find out. “I wish we could go now. I mean, how dangerous can the Vale be?”

“It’s not the Vale that’s dangerous. It’s the road to the Vale,” he explained. “We will need to travel to the Pillars of Asphodel to enter the Vale. Anything can happen between here and the Pillars, and as you should know by now, gods can enter the Shadowlands at will. So can Primals. There are no rules preventing me from burning a god to a crispy stick if I see fit.”

I wrinkled my nose at his choice of words.

“The same ca

“Oh.” I glanced out the lone window in the chamber. The gray sky beyond was a muted, lifeless color broken only by the faint twinkle of stars. Too bad the charm couldn’t prevent others from attacking me. “If Nyktos had said that, it would’ve made more sense.”

“He hadn’t?”

I shot him a look. His expression was so bland, the sky had to be envious. “No.”

He gave me a faint smile as his gaze flicked to the door. “One second.”

I turned to see Rhain through the narrow gap. Nektas joined him in the hall, and I watched them, curious about what they could be discussing.

And I really should’ve been watching the young draken.

Jadis let out a shrill screech, stopping my heart. My head whipped to where…Reaver had apparently flown to the top of an empty cabinet and was perched there, safely out of Jadis’s reach.

Something she wasn’t remotely happy about.

She jumped and flapped her wings, only managing to get a couple of inches into the air for a few seconds. Her cries were pitiful.

“Reaver,” I called, pushing away from the table. “Why don’t you come down?”

He shook his diamond-shaped head. And, honestly, I couldn’t really blame him.