A shadow in the ember

I hadn’t seen his other hand move, but I felt it slide behind my head, becoming an immovable wedge between me and the wall. “There’s something I need you to understand.” His whisper filled with tendrils of darkness again. “While I’m not suggesting you don’t attempt to fight me—you do whatever you feel you need to—you should know that you will not win. Ever.”

There was a finality to his words that sent a tremor through my captured hands. I tipped my head back and looked up…and up. He was well over a foot taller than me, maybe even as tall as the Primal of Death was. A shiver of unease prickled the nape of my neck. Most of his face was cast in shadow, and all I could see was the hard line of his jaw. When his head tilted into a slice of moonlight, I saw him.

This man was…he was absolutely, without a doubt, the most stu

I looked up to his eyes.

Silver.

Eyes that were an incredible, luminous shade of silver, bright as the moon itself. Beautiful. That was all I could think at first, and then…I saw the light behind his pupils, the wispy tendrils of eather.

“You’re a god,” I whispered.

He said nothing while instinct fired through me, urging me to either submit or run—and to do either of those two things fast. It was a warning, a reckoning that screamed I wasn’t even inches away from one of the most dangerous predators in any realm.

But I…I couldn’t get over how he looked no more than a handful of years older than me, somewhere between Ezra’s and Tavius’s ages. That most likely wasn’t the case. He could be centuries older. But other than the night I was to be married, I’d never been this close to a being from Iliseeum before. It u

It struck me then that I’d tried to kick a god—multiple times. I’d tried to stab a god.

And he…he hadn’t struck me down.

He hadn’t even hurt me. All he’d done was stop me from harming myself. And, well, now he was holding me here. Still, he could’ve done much, much worse.

Could that mean that he was from the Shadowlands Court and answered to the Primal of Death? My stomach tumbled. I had no idea if any of the gods that served the Primal of Death knew about me since any deal struck between a mortal and a god was known only to those two, but this deal had been different. It was quite possible that every god within the Shadowlands knew that the Primal had a Consort he hadn’t claimed, even though he’d bartered for one.

Thick, wavy hair fell against this god’s cheeks as he dipped his head. His gaze snared mine, and I couldn’t look away—not even if the Primal of Death himself appeared beside us. Not when the wisps of eather swirled through the silver of his eyes.

My throat tightened, but it was a surreal feeling to have someone look upon my face so intently. After seventeen years of wearing the Veil of the Chosen, I wasn’t used to it. Being so seen left me feeling…vulnerable, which was why I opted to keep my face hidden beneath a hood whenever I wasn’t around my mother, who now preferred that my face be shown as if it were a reminder of my failure. As silly and nonsensical as it was, a sense of wonder bubbled up.

“Fuck,” he murmured.

A tripping motion went through my chest. Did he know who I was? If so, how was that possible? I’d been kept so hidden. Not even the Shadow Priests had ever seen my face while knowing who I was. “What?”

His gaze flicked over my features so intensely that each and every freckle across my nose and cheek started to tingle. His eyes closed briefly, and as close as we were to each other, I could see just how thick the fringe of his lashes was as they swept back up. “Every mortal knows better than to interfere with a god.”

I swallowed hard, feeling all the building wonder collapse. “I do know. But—”

“They killed an i

My fingers curled helplessly in his grasp. I knew I shouldn’t talk back. I should thank him for his aid—help I didn’t ask for—and then put as much distance between us as possible. But that wasn’t what I did. It was like I had no control over my mouth. And maybe that was the recklessness that Sir Holland bemoaned every chance he got. Maybe it was that small part of me that had stopped caring. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about the fact that they killed an i

Those eyes burned even brighter. Dread blossomed in the pit of my stomach, and a trickle of fear entered my blood. Mortals did not talk back to a god. I also knew that. “Those three will pay for what they’ve done. You can be assured of that.”

A chill erupted over my skin, despite him not acknowledging my ill-advised behavior. He spoke as if he had the power and authority to carry that out. As if he wanted to see to it personally.

His attention snapped in the direction of the lane again, and then his gaze met mine. “They’re coming,” he warned.

Before I could say a word, he lowered my arms and let go. There wasn’t time to make use of the freedom. The god grasped my hips and lifted me off my feet, sliding a hand down the bare length of my left thigh. He hooked my left leg around his waist. A ripple of shock whipped through me. What in the—?

“Wrap your other leg around me,” he commanded quietly against the side of my head. “You do not want them to see you.”

I didn’t know if it was his ominous tone or how unbalanced his hold and touch had left me, but I obeyed. Curling my right leg around his waist, I gripped the front of his shirt, suspecting that he didn’t want to be seen by them, either. “If you try anything…” I warned.

His head dipped, and I sucked in a startled breath as I felt his lips curve into a smile against my cheek. They were as cool as the rest of him. “You’ll do what?” he whispered. “Go for that weapon on your thigh again?”

“Yes.”

“Even though you know you wouldn’t be fast enough to deliver a blow.”

My grip on his shirt tightened. “Yes.”

He chuckled softly, and I felt it from my hips to my breasts. “Shh.”

Had he just shushed me? My entire body went as tight as a bowstring. The bridge of his nose coasted over the curve of my cheek, and I went taut for an entirely different reason. His lips were near mine, brushing just the corner of my mouth. A riot of sensations rocketed through me, a wild mix of disbelief, anger, and something like the anticipation I felt when I entered The Jade. I couldn’t understand that. This wasn’t the same. I didn’t know this male. It didn’t matter that many mortals would eagerly exchange places with me as we were often drawn to gods like night-blooming roses were to the moon. But one such as he was dangerous. He was a predator, no matter how beautiful or benevolent he was.

 But it was so rare that anyone got this close to me and allowed their skin to encounter mine. To touch me. Those who did had been strangers, too. Except when they touched me, I wasn’t really me. I was as nameless as they often were when I let them pull me into shadowy alcoves or behind closed doors and into rooms where things weren’t meant to last. Where I wore a veil even though my face was bare.

But I felt like me in this moment. More than I had in years.

“Kiss me,” he ordered.

My temper flared. I hated being told what to do. And if I were being honest, that had started long ago. Maybe that was one of the reasons I’d been rejected. But his demand made sense. It would appear quite odd for us to just stand here like this, doing nothing but glaring at each other.

So, I kissed him.

A god.

The contact of my mouth against his caused my stomach to pitch like it did when I came too close to the edges of the Cliffs of Sorrow. His lips were cool, but they were somehow soft yet firm, a strangely enticing juxtaposition as they moved against mine. It was the only thing about him that moved. His mouth. The hand on my left thigh and the one on my hip remained still. He was motionless, and I didn’t know why I did what I did next. Could’ve been that impulsivity. Could’ve been my irritation over being in this situation. Could’ve been how still he was. And if I were being completely honest with myself, it could’ve been the possibility that he was from the Shadowlands and served the Primal who’d stolen every chance I had to save my kingdom. All those reasons were probably wrong, but I didn’t care.

I caught his lower lip between my teeth and bit down. Not hard enough to draw blood, but his entire body jerked, and then he wasn’t still any longer.

The god pushed in as his head tilted, deepening the kiss. Nothing about his mouth was soft then. He parted my lips with a fierce stroke of his tongue, and a tight shudder rolled through me at the sharp graze against my lower lip. His teeth. Fangs. Oh, gods, I’d somehow forgotten about that. Fear lit my veins because I knew how sharp they were. I knew what a god could do with them. But something else entered my blood, a wicked and decadent, heady thrill as I flicked my tongue over his. He tasted of something woodsy and smoky—like whiskey. A sound came from him, deep within his throat, and it sent my heart to pounding.

The hand on my thigh curled, his fingers pressing into my skin, becoming an icy brand that somehow scorched my flesh. A wild shiver shimmered through me as his hand left my hip and worked its way between the wall and the back of my head. His fingers curled into my hair, surely loosening the pins keeping my braid in place. I really didn’t care as he drew my head back, as he…kissed me like he wouldn’t allow a single part of my mouth to go unexplored. As if he’d been waiting for ages to do this. I knew that was a silly, whimsical thought, but I kissed him back, utterly forgetting why we were doing this, and only vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps and the deep laughter of an intruder—of the god.

Were all kisses from a god as dangerously intoxicating as this one? That too-faint smidgen of common sense told me I should be worried. What if the Primal did come for me? What if he changed his mind, and I had kissed one of his gods? I should care, but instead I kissed the god even harder because I refused to think about that damn Primal. I let myself exist in the moment.

This felt chaotic, like when I slipped under the surface of the lake and stayed until my lungs burned, and my heart raced, just to see how far I could push myself.