A light in the flame

“I don’t think that.”

“Really?” My eyes opened. Soft, buttery light from the nearby lamp cast a warm glow over half his face. “Because I…I think I knew—no, I did know that Ezra would be preparing no matter what, even if Holland hadn’t said anything. But I had to make sure.”

“I understand.” Thick lashes shielded his eyes as his gaze avidly followed his fingers. “And I also understand that maybe you just needed to see her.”

My chest warmed and swelled. That was likely what had driven my motivations. Because some part of me, a deeply rooted dread, feared that I wouldn’t get a chance to see her again.

Nyktos’s plans will work. I repeated that over and over until that dread retreated. I cleared my throat, focusing on the fact that Nyktos wasn’t irritated by the risky trip. He could’ve been, and, at the very least, he could’ve pointed out that it had been u

Gods knew I probably would have.

Which made me feel like I had more of my mother in me than I wanted to acknowledge. I squirmed a little.

“What are you thinking about?” Nyktos asked, his fingers stopping at my hip.

I turned my gaze to the ceiling. “Did I project?”

“You did.” He paused. “I tasted tartness and…something sour.”

My brows rose. “Not sure what that translates into.”

“Confusion,” he answered. “And shame.”

“Nice,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat. “You must often find yourself with bad tastes in your mouth.”

“Sometimes.” His hand curled around my hip. “You going to tell me what you were thinking about?”

“Do I have to?”

He chuckled. “No.”

My lips pursed. “Do you want me to?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t, but I’m sure you already know that.”

I did.

“I was…thinking about my mother.”

Nyktos shifted closer so his chest touched my arm and one of his legs brushed mine. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Same.” I sighed.

His fingers left my hip, going to where several curls were tangled together on my arm. He set about unraveling them. “Was it what I said to her?”

“Good gods, no.” My gaze shot to his. “I wish I could relive that moment over and over: her just staring at you, open-mouthed as we walked away.”

A faint grin appeared. “But I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut. She’s your mother. Yours to deal with.”

“But I…I don’t want to deal with her. I realized that today. That’s why I didn’t, you know, engage with her. Mainly because I just knew she would piss me off. But also because I…” My brows snapped together. “Because I just don’t care. My confusion or shame or whatever you were picking up on had to do with thinking that parts of me are like her. And I…I don’t like that.”

“I think all of us have parts of us that are like our parents, but that doesn’t mean we are them.”

“True,” I murmured, wondering what my father was like for the millionth time.

“And the not-caring part? It’s not necessarily a bad thing.” He curled one finger around a strand of hair. “Just because someone shares the same bloodline as you doesn’t mean they deserve your time or thoughts.”

“You’re right.” My gaze swept over his features. “You, more than anyone, would understand that.”

Nyktos’s fingers stilled around the curl. “Yeah. I would,” he said, the sudden flatness of the sentence alarming me. “And that’s why neither of us is going to spend another moment thinking about those we’re unfortunately related to.”

He rolled his large body onto mine then, and within seconds, I wasn’t thinking about anything but him and the way he kissed. And how he used his mouth and tongue. His fingers and his cock. He chased away those other thoughts.

Even the dread that clung like a shadow and haunted like a ghost.

Hair still damp, I threaded the strands into a braid as I walked with Ector to Nyktos’s office the following morning. According to what Orphine had shared as I ate my breakfast, I was to meet the Primal there when ready. Since the trip to the Vale wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow, I hoped that Nyktos was fulfilling another of my demands.

Training.

But I wasn’t sure, and it wasn’t like I’d had a chance to ask Nyktos this morning. He had been gone when I woke.

Using one of the final bands I could find in the bathing chamber, I made a mental note to ask about the ones Nyktos had been taking after undoing my braids. He’d put them around his wrist, but they were nowhere to be seen after that. What was he doing with them? Using them in his hair? I focused on that instead of the blood I had seen again earlier when I cleaned my teeth. I refused to think about that.

“You’re smiling,” Ector commented, glancing down at me. “I feel like I should be worried when you’re smiling.”

I snorted. “There’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Uh-huh.”

I felt my smile grow as we descended the stairs and I thought about last night. Every moment had felt like some sort of wild dream. Nyktos had shared di

Liessa.

Something beautiful.

Something powerful.

Queen.

I caught sight of Lailah heading down the hall to our right as we crossed the foyer, Reaver flying near her shoulder as we turned toward Nyktos’s office. The embers in my chest warmed and wiggled, and there was a swift, swelling motion that made me feel a little silly, then a little reckless when we entered the office and I saw Nyktos at his desk, writing in the Book of the Dead. He had his hair swept back from the sharp, stu

My heart leapt as he lifted his head. Luminous, silver eyes co

“Perfect timing.” Nyktos closed the Book of the Dead and rose, twisting the twine around the book. He was dressed as he’d been in his chambers—no embellished tunic, only a loose, black shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and leathers. He turned to the credenza. “I just finished.”

“Is there anything else you need?” Ector asked.

“No, but I won’t be available this morning.” Nyktos put the tome away as anticipation stirred. “Unless there is an emergency.”

“Understood.” Ector slid a sly look in my direction.

“Thank you,” Nyktos said, coming around his desk.

Ector bowed and, with one quick look in my direction, exited the office, leaving me alone with the Primal.

Things still felt inexplicably different.

And I needed to get control of my wildly beating heart. “How many souls oddly shared the same name today?”

He sent me a faint grin as he crossed the office, and it did little to calm my heart. “None this morning.”

“I suppose it’s because you weren’t so distracted.” I clasped my hands together.

“Considering how quiet it was,” he said, stopping before me, his gaze dipping to the swell of my chest pushed up by the vest, “and that there were no breasts inches from my face, I was quite focused.”

I bit back a grin. “Well, you should be pleased to see that there is no threat of my breasts being such a distraction today.”

“They are always a distraction,” he murmured, picking up my braid.

“Which is more of a failing on your part than my breasts’ fault.”

He ran his thumb down the length. “So I’ve been told.”

“So you should know,” I told him, enjoying the lighthearted banter. It reminded me of before my betrayal became known.

The quick grin returned as he drew the braid over my shoulder, letting it fall down my back. “Come,” he said, stepping back and starting for the office doors.

Arching a brow, I followed him into the hall and then down it toward the back stairwell. He opened a heavy door to our right, the last at the end of the hall. I peered around him. There was nothing but a black abyss. “What is this?”