A light in the flame

Luckily, Aios was prepared for the impromptu nakedness, whipping out a tiny light blue nightgown and managing to drag it over Jadis’s dark-haired head as she all but crawled into my arms and buried her face in my hair. She was out in seconds.

“I wish I could fall asleep that easily.” Aios lowered herself to the floor next to the plates of leftover food. I’d managed to get Jadis to eat from a fork again, but if I took my eyes off her for longer than a second, I likely would’ve lost a finger. “And don’t worry about waking her. The palace could come down on our heads, and she’d sleep through it.”

“Must be nice.” I leaned back against the couch’s arm as I glanced down at the wispy dark waves of her hair. “I wonder why she shifted. I’ve seen her sleep in her draken form.”

“None of the draken sleep in their mortal form unless they feel safe.” Aios brushed a wine-red lock of hair back from her face as she crossed her legs. I noticed the shadows had faded a little from her eyes. “Especially as younglings. So, it just means she feels comfortable with you.”

“Oh,” I murmured, glancing down at Jadis again. She’d turned her head slightly, baring one rosy cheek as she kept her hands clenched around my hair. Her lashes were unbelievably thick. “I think it’s my hair. Nektas thought the color might remind her of her mother.”

“Makes sense.” Aios’s smile was faint as she eyed the sleeping draken. “It’s kind of sad but also a bit sweet if that’s the case.” She lifted her gaze to me. “I haven’t gotten a chance to ask how you’re dealing with the delay of the coronation and the news of the summons.”

Keeping my arms folded around Jadis, I tipped my head back. “I really haven’t been letting myself think too much about it,” I admitted with a wry grin. “Probably not the best method, but it can’t be changed.”

“No, it ca

I nodded, even though we might be able to change things if we could find Delfai before Kolis summoned us. However, if we didn’t, and I looked like Sotoria… I said none of that. Aios wasn’t aware of that part, and if she knew that I was Kolis’s graeca, I was sure those shadows would return. But I wasn’t allowing myself to dwell on it. Any of it. If I did, I would be a wreck.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew our attention to the doors. I managed to keep any surprise from my expression. Reaver had returned, now in his mortal form. He wore loose, dark pants and a plain undershirt and carried a roll of something white in his hands.

Blond hair hid most of his angular features as he came to where we sat, kneeling by the couch. “She’ll want her blanket,” he said in that oddly serious voice of his. A tone that seemed far too mature for a child who looked no older than ten years of age.

“That is very thoughtful of you, Reaver,” Aios said.

He shrugged a small shoulder as he draped the soft blanket over Jadis’s shoulders with my help. Once he was sure she was covered, he sat on the floor near us.

I glanced at Aios.

She gri

Reaver looked up at me with expectant ruby-hued eyes as if waiting. For what, I truly had no idea, and I was quickly reminded of exactly how terrible I was with children.

“Would you like something to eat?” Aios picked up a bowl of mixed fruit. “I’m confident that Jadis didn’t have her hands in this.”

I snorted softly as Reaver hesitated and then nodded. The fruit was probably the only food Jadis hadn’t had her fingers on—sticky fingers that were now wrapped tightly around my hair. “Do you know when Nektas is returning?”

“Later,” Reaver answered as he nibbled on a piece of strawberry. “I think he went to Vathi to visit Aurelia.”

“Aurelia?” I murmured, holding back a yawn.

“She’s a draken in Attes’s Court,” Aios answered, glancing at me. “I’ve met her a couple of times. She’s pretty nice.” She poured Reaver a glass of water, something he hadn’t been able to drink with Jadis chasing him around. Her eyes briefly met mine again. “I wonder if he’s checking to see if she’s heard anything about that draken who came here.”

That would make sense.

“Don’t know.” Reaver took the napkin Aios handed him, dropping it onto a bent knee. “But I think Nek is sweet on her.”

My brows shot up, at the nickname and the idea of Nektas being sweet on anyone when it was clear that he was still in love with his wife.

Aios gri

Reaver shrugged as he finished off a slice of melon. “He always smiles whenever her name is mentioned.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s sweet on her,” Aios said.

He pi

I gri

“That’s because Bele is silly.” Aios cleared her throat. “Did Nyktos go with him?”

My heart immediately skipped, and my face felt like it was probably a dozen or so shades of red. I focused on rubbing the center of Jadis’s back. While Reaver told Aios that he’d seen the Primal outside, working with the guards, and then proceeded to ask her why some melons were sweet and others sour, I stared at the glossy, black ceiling.

Nyktos.

I repeated his name over and over in my mind, and no matter how many times I said it, the name didn’t sit right. I knew why, and it was all Nek’s fault.

Because at some point, I’d started seeing Nyktos as I wanted to.

And that seemed like a problem because thinking of him as Nyktos felt wise. Less. Not more. Nyktos was right now, pleasure for the sake of pleasure, and that was the safest way to navigate this union with him. There was no guarantee that whatever this Delfai knew about removing the embers would work. Even so, there was still no promise of a future, not until we dealt with Kolis and restored some kind of order to Iliseeum.

And thinking of him as Ash felt too much like endless possibilities. Ash felt like more, and there could never be more with him.

Jadis wiggled a little as my chest tightened. I asked myself for the hundredth time what exactly I was doing here, going through a questionable plan when I had a duty, a destiny. When people were dying because I was here. And if Kolis ever discovered the whole soul thing? He would do just as Penellaphe had warned.

Pressure built because I…I knew why I hadn’t made another attempt to escape. It wasn’t because I feared being caught again. It wasn’t because of the plan. It was the why behind wanting his plan to work. There were all the obvious reasons—stopping Kolis, ending the Rot, and restoring Nyktos to his rightful destiny as the King of Gods. But I had other reasons, purely selfish ones.

I didn’t want to do what I’d have to do to weaken Kolis.

Instead, I wanted a future of my own, one where I could try to keep that part of me good—just like Nyktos did. A future that had more moments like the ones I’d spent with him earlier. Moments of peace. I wanted years like his friend Lathan had, where he didn’t struggle to find his breath when things became overwhelming. Maybe even moments like this, where I held a sleeping child in my arms, one that was mine. I wanted a future where I was—

I tried to stop the thought from finishing, but it was too late. The why behind what I wanted was already fully formed, and the strangest, most terrifying thing occurred to me as I held Jadis closer.

Nyktos…he was all that I already knew—a Primal of Death who wanted to give the Shades the chance to face justice or redemption instead of the nothingness of the final death. He cared and thought of others, even at great risk to himself. What he’d done for Saion and Rhahar and countless others was evidence of not only that but also that he was succeeding at trying to be good. Breathe in.