Born of Blood and Ash

The siblings nodded, and Nektas handed a blanket and what appeared to be a nightgown to Ash. As they rose to leave, Lailah sent Attes a worried glance.

He didn’t even seem to be aware that they’d left.

“Saion, Rhahar, you will remain here,” Ash continued, attempting to pull the nightgown over Jadis’s head, but she kept lifting her wings. Nektas gri

“Sounds good to me.” Saion looked at his cousin.

Rhahar nodded. “You really think any of them will come at either of you?”

“They’d have to be very foolish,” I commented, scratching Reaver under the chin. Ash finally got the nightgown on Jadis and covered her with the blanket. “They may not have known what I was capable of before, but they do now,” I said without the hint of smugness that would normally fill my tone. But that was before. Now, I knew this was nothing to boast about.

Bele was silent for a moment, surprisingly not responding with one of her customary quips. “They’re not going to be here, right?” She jerked her chin toward Reaver.

The draken narrowed his eyes.

“I will take the younglings to Mount Rhee before the meeting,” Nektas said, propping a bare foot up on the edge of the desk.

I didn’t think I’d ever seen Nektas in shoes.

“I doubt anything will happen,” Ash said, adjusting the little draken in his arms. Jadis was already asleep. “But I don’t want you near the throne room, Aios.”

Aios frowned. “I am not happy with that.”

“I am.” Bele smiled at her, and the look she gave the Primal immediately erased the smile. “We done here for now?”

Ash nodded. “Stay close.”

“Will do.” She rose and took Aios’s hand. “Let’s go so you can yell at me in private.”

Attes actually chuckled at that as he started to stand.

“Attes,” I said. “Can you stay for a few moments?”

“Of course.” He settled back.

“Come, Reaver.” Nektas stood, taking his sleeping daughter from Ash’s arms. “We need to go.”

The draken hesitated, his cerulean gaze darting between Nektas and me. I don’t want to leave you.

Even his voice in my mind was filled with dread. “It’ll be okay.” Bending at the waist, I cupped Reaver’s jaw and kissed the top of his warm head between the horns that would soon grow. “Go with Nektas.”

His heavy sigh echoed in my thoughts, bringing a grin to my lips. He rocked back, extending his wings and taking to the air.

Once it was just the three of us, I got up. As I passed Ash, I briefly stopped to kiss his cheek. His gaze tracked me when I sat in the chair Nektas had occupied.

Attes’s wary gaze slid to mine. “Don’t look at me like that.”

I arched a brow. “Like what?”

“Like you’re worried about me,” he replied. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

“It shouldn’t, considering you saw me having a complete breakdown.”

“Are you going to say that doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”

“It does,” I admitted and felt Ash’s hand on my lower back. “But I am worried about you.”

A ghost of a smile appeared. “There is no need, Sera. I know why you wanted to speak with me in private, and while I appreciate the thoughtfulness, I’ve known this day was coming, even when I didn’t want to know.” He inhaled deeply. “Kyn will not survive this.”

I wanted to look away, but it felt wrong. Weak in a way I couldn’t be.

“No,” Ash said from behind me. “He will not.”

Attes nodded, his lashes lowering. “He…he truly wasn’t always like this,” he said roughly before clearing his throat. “He once lived for times of peace. He had a heart. He laughed and loved. He lusted for life and not cruelty.” His gaze turned distant as if he were seeing far into the past. “His care for the younglings remained through the centuries, the only thing that reminded me of who he used to be. The only hope I had that he could still be saved. Kolis took that when he had you kill Thad,” he said, and my eyes closed. “When I could finally tell him that his youngling draken still lived, it was too late. My brother was gone.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. When I felt his hand on mine, I opened my eyes.

He lowered his head so we were at eye level. “As am I.” He squeezed my hand and then straightened. “But it is what it is.”

Ash’s hand moved in slow circles on my back. “We will need to Ascend someone to take his place.”

“Lailah,” Attes said without hesitation. “She has the temperament, and she’s ready.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Ash. He eyed Attes closely. “And you’re suggesting Lailah because you truly believe this,” he asked. “Or because you want her?”

I raised my brows at Ash’s bluntness.

Attes huffed out a low laugh. “Her being a goddess hasn’t stopped me from wanting her, has it?”

Oh, my.

Ash made a sound that might’ve been a laugh. Or maybe a growl. I couldn’t be sure.

“Besides,” Attes went on, “I aim to rest after this.”

Heart dropping, I stiffened.

“I don’t plan to enter Arcadia,” he said, seeing my reaction. “Not yet, at least. Nor will I go to ground immediately afterward. You will need my aid in the transition. But I will need to rest.” His gaze flickered away. “I need that time.”

“I understand,” Ash said, and so did I, even though it made my heart ache.

“I will assign Theon to oversee things in my place during that time,” Attes added, surprising me once again. “He will do well just to prove he is better than me, and I will be able to rest peacefully.”

I smiled at that. “That’s not the only reason I wanted to speak to you.”

“Is that so?” He lifted a cup of likely cold coffee and drank. “Hopefully, it is a less depressing conversation.”

“It is,” I said. “We will not be using Sotoria’s soul.”

His head swung toward me so fast he probably gave himself whiplash. “What?”

“I can’t do it. I can’t force Sotoria to be reborn and used.” As I told him what I’d said to Ash earlier, it was like witnessing a man finding a small slice of peace as disbelief gave way to relief. Attes’s left hand dropped to his lap, and his right followed as I promised him that Sotoria would not be forced to live yet another life she didn’t choose for herself. Tension eased out of his neck and shoulders when he understood that she would find rest. He slouched a little in his chair as I told him that Kolis would never see Sotoria again.

“He will remain entombed, and we will do everything to make sure of that. And Sotoria will have a choice.”

“That is…” Attes’s eyes closed as he tipped his head back, raising his arms. He dragged his palms down his face, then up and through his hair. Turning his head toward us, tears glimmered in his eyes. His voice was rough and thick when he spoke just three words. “That is everything.”

I inhaled swiftly, fighting back a rush of my own freaking tears. Ash folded an arm around my waist from behind. He hauled me out of the chair and into his lap as he said, “You do love her.”

Attes’s laugh was shaky as he shook his head. “Sotoria could’ve killed two Primals if she had the chance.”

Gods…

I squeezed Ash’s arm, biting my lip.

“I’ve always known she would never be mine. I was okay with that. I could live with it. All I’ve ever wanted was for her to have peace.” Clearing his throat, he smiled a little. “I guess that’s the purest kind of love.”

“Yeah,” I whispered, blinking rapidly. “I believe so.”

His eyes met mine and then Ash’s. “Thank you.”

“There is no need for thanks,” Ash said. “None at all.”

I swallowed the knot in my throat. “I was thinking it would be best to wait to release her until after Kolis is entombed.”

“Agreed.” He rubbed his palm over his chest. “I want to be there when we do it.”

“Of course. You would be there even if you didn’t have The Star,” I told him.

He nodded again and cleared his throat once more, appearing to rein in his feelings. “You said something earlier, Sera. About the plans being brutal. You’re wrong.”

“I am?”

He was quiet for what felt like a small eternity. “When people think of war, they imagine endless, grand battles fought across many landscapes. They think it’s nonstop violence stretching from one kingdom to the next the moment conflict erupts, leaving hallowed ground behind. In their minds, they see cities sacked and burned, left to rot along with the corpses of those who would’ve died for peace but perished for being in the way. One speaks of war, and mortals hear the pounding of warhorses’ hooves, the clash of swords, the cries of the wounded and dying, and the whistle of arrows piercing the air. They picture men who were once loving fathers and sons, gentle husbands and tender lovers, becoming blood-hungry beasts, knowing that no one, neither King nor servant, will return without pieces of them forever lost. That’s the kind of war mortals expect—that the young, in their naïvety, romanticize. Bloody, brutal, and unforgiving in its indiscriminate slaughter. That’s not the kind of war Primals and gods were meant to engage in,” he said, causing small bumps to rise along my arms. “However, that is the kind of war Kolis has started.”

Attes’s voice lowered, and he held my stare. “But what mortals and even some Primals don’t realize is that there is rarely a distinct wi