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CHAPTER ONE
Ash’s voice coaxed me from sleep. Feeling my pounding heartbeats slow, I forced a dry, almost painful swallow. My throat felt like I’d been screaming for days—years, even. But I hadn’t screamed since the City of the Gods. Not since Dalos.
Cool lips brushed my cheek, and I immediately rolled toward the comfort of a long, hard body. An arm lifted, giving me the space to nestle against his chest.
All the tension left me as I relaxed into him. That was his effect on me. I calmed. Every part of me.
Letting my hand rest against his side, I pressed my lips to the hollow of his throat. “I didn’t mean to doze off.”
Ash’s lips brushed the top of my head. “It’s okay, liessa.”
Something beautiful.
Something powerful.
Every damn time he spoke that word, it washed over me like a gentle caress, filling my heart with an acute sense of belonging, of being wanted and cherished—two things I’d spent my whole life desperately wanting to feel.
“You were dreaming,” he said quietly.
My stomach clenched. Had I shouted something? Was that why my throat felt scratchy? “I…I was?”
There was a pause. “You don’t remember?”
“No,” I lied, my skin prickling. “Was I, like, doing something weird?”
His lips coasted over my forehead once more. “No, liessa. You were just restless.”
Oh, thank the gods.
I snuggled into him, trying to turn him into my personal cooling blanket. “How long was I asleep?”
“Not long at all.” Ash folded his arm over my waist. “Less than thirty minutes.”
Nuzzling the crook of his neck, I smiled. “Why do I have a feeling you’re lying?”
“Because I am.”
A raspy laugh left me, and his arm flexed, briefly tightening around me. “So, you were just trying to make me feel better about falling asleep after being in stasis for days?”
“The kind of sleep you experienced isn’t necessarily restful,” he explained with a level of patience I wasn’t even remotely capable of. “Not when the body is going through such drastic changes.” He paused. “And I haven’t really allowed you to rest upon waking either.”
Memories—some sweet and others downright scandalous—of the hours after I’d awakened from stasis rose and caused my toes to curl. “I’m not at all complaining about my lack of rest.”
A darkly sensual chuckle teased the top of my head. “I didn’t think you were.” A hint of unadulterated male smugness had crept into his tone. “But the Ascension does take its toll. You need your rest.”
“I don’t feel like I need to be resting,” I denied, speaking directly against the chest I was still plastered to.
“You should.” He worked a knee between mine, managing to get even closer. “We have time. We have as much time as you need.”
Time? What a fu
Ignoring what awaited us.
And while I wanted nothing more than to remain in this place where nothing could touch us, unease bubbled beneath my skin. We had so much to deal with, and neither of us was prepared for most of it.
Starting with what I had become.
Ash’s head turned slightly, and he pressed his lips against my bare shoulder, his fingers tangling in the curls there. “Have I told you how beautiful your hair is?” he asked.
My stomach suddenly twisted sharply.
That wasn’t the first time he’d said that. Ash was as fascinated by my hair as I was by his smiles. He loved the pale shade. But I felt stagnant, heavy air. Breathe in. Smelled the suffocating scent of stale lilacs. And no matter how badly I didn’t want to, I saw the true Primal of Death before me, his uneven smile fading. He looked at—no, he scrutinized—the color of my hair. I heard Kolis’s voice—
“He hated my hair,” I blurted, my heart thudding like a hammer against my ribs. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, seeing bursts of white light.
Ash’s fingers halted. “What?”
“Kolis,” I whispered, realizing then that I was gripping his arm. I was with Ash, surrounded by his citrusy, fresh-air scent. It was his fingers in my hair. I was in the Shadowlands. Safe. Ascended and strong. Protected. But, most importantly, I was more than capable of defending myself. I forced my grip to relax. “He hated the color and brought it up often.”
Tension poured into Ash’s body, and his skin cooled even more.
Damn it.
I hadn’t meant to take away his peace. Or maybe it wasn’t me who had stolen it. Perhaps it was Kolis—who wasn’t even here.
Ash’s chest rose against mine as he took a deep breath. “Yet another example of how much of a fucking idiot Kolis is.”
“Sotoria had red hair,” I explained, picturing punching myself in the throat repeatedly. “I think that was the issue.”
“I don’t give a fuck what her hair looked like.”
“It’s not like it was her fault,” I said, immediately defending the soul that, courtesy of Ash’s father, had resided inside me until recently. Now, she—the only person who could truly kill Kolis—was in the Star diamond. But I felt protective of her.
I likely always would.
“I didn’t say it was.” His hand delved deeper into the mass of curls, and he gently guided my head back. “Sera?”
“What?”
“Look at me.”
Was I not looking at him? Nope. Face burning, I opened my eyes. Only a few inches separated us, and all I could see were thick, black lashes framing irises the color of cooled iron streaked with white and lit by a glow of eather.
“I wanted you to be looking at me as I make you this promise.” His voice was hard, as icy as the coldest, cruelest dungeon, and so at odds with how he handled me. “I know Kolis can’t be killed. Not yet. But I will hurt him. Badly. I will make him wish he was dead. He will beg for it.”
A shiver danced across my skin. I didn’t doubt that oath. Not for one second. And while I wanted to be the one to cause the bastard unimaginable pain, Kolis had killed Ash’s father and mother. And so many others. Kolis had caused Ash far more pain than I could comprehend.
“I have no problem with that,” I said. “As long as I get a couple of minutes with him. With a very sharp object.”
“Deal.” His fingers curled around the strands of hair.
“I…” I trailed off, distracted. Having gained enough distance that the entirety of Ash’s face came into view, I saw him—really saw him. All at once, the constant, almost chaotic stream of thoughts slowed. I sca
It was like I was seeing him for the first time.
Everything about him appeared clearer to me. Details were apparent, vivid, and varied. His thick, wavy hair—even damp—was an array of browns, some dark and others light, mixed with hints of chestnut. One strand, already forming a loose wave as it dried, kissed the corner of lush lips a color somewhere between pinkish-red and brown. Another lay against the strong, cut line of his jaw. There was a shadow of stubble there I didn’t think I would’ve been able to see before with my mortal eyes.
Good gods. How had I not noticed this the moment I came out of stasis?
Eyebrows that matched the darkest shades in his hair furrowed. “Sera? You okay?”
“Yeah.” I dragged my gaze away from him and checked out the bedchamber, rising onto an elbow.
Only a small lamp by the bed had been left on. Normally, that wouldn’t have been enough to make out any real details, but it was clear to me that Ash wasn’t the only thing I could see better. The entrance to the bathing chamber had been left open, and I saw straight through to the other door that led to a private chamber used for meetings when Ash wanted to be near his personal quarters. I saw the vanity and could make out the faint strokes of gray in the marble. The marks left by a brush when the wood of the door had been stained were also visible to me. Even the glint of the shadowstone walls the lamplight didn’t reach.
My stomach churned as I thought about what the false King of Gods had said about shadowstone. That it was slag: a combination of whatever had been melted by dragon fire—including things like people—and then cooled.
Gods, that still grossed me out.
His hand slipped from my hair and fell to my hip. “You don’t seem okay.”
“It’s my vision. I can see things better. The chamber. You.” I looked down at him. “How was I that unobservant to only notice this now?”
The release of the tension bracketing his expressive mouth was immediate. “You’ve been somewhat occupied since you woke from stasis.”
“That occupied?”
One side of his lips kicked up. “It’s also possible your senses are only begi
I glanced around the bedchamber again. Heavy drapes shielded the balcony doors. “How long did it take for you?”
The cool tips of his fingers grazed the swell of my breast as he caught a curl and drew it back over my shoulder and behind my ear. “My vision was immediate.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course.”
His grin kicked up a notch. “My hearing improved within several hours, but it took a couple of days for the rest.”
“The rest?”
“Sensing the subtle shifts in those around me and the environment,” he explained, causing my frown to deepen because I wasn’t at all sure what that was supposed to mean. “And understanding the draken took a few days.”
Surprise flickered through. I stared at him, and then that strange sense of knowing kicked in. Ash really could understand the draken. All Ascended Primals could, as well as some of the oldest gods.
I’d thought he’d been joking or only sensed what they thought by knowing their emotions. But it was a combination of both. Sensing their general moods or needs and being able to hear their thoughts.
“It’s called te’lepe,” he continued. “A bond of sorts. A notam that allows the draken to transfer their thoughts to us. One can even form between them and gods, depending on how comfortable they feel with the god.”
Notam? I frowned. Hadn’t Attes mentioned that? I tried to imagine hearing the draken’s voices in my mind and couldn’t. “They can’t hear us like that, can they?”
Ash shook his head. “I ca
I started to draw my lower lip between my teeth, catching the flesh on the tip of a fang before I could process what he said. “Gods,” I hissed, wincing. “I’m not going to have a lip left at this rate.”