Born of Blood and Ash

I quietly excused myself. Ash wanted to step away with me, but I assured him that everything was fine, and I would return.

I made my way through the war room to the hall. I’d only gone a few steps before I heard Penellaphe calling my name. I turned, tangles twisting in my already knotted stomach. When I’d seen her last… I looked away, the back of my throat scalding with shame.

Penellaphe’s steps slowed. She cleared her throat. “I wanted to see how you were but didn’t want to ask in there.”

“I’m…” I started to tell her I was okay but had a feeling she knew better. She’d seen me immediately after what I’d done. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to meet her gaze. It was strange seeing her with the silver eyes of a Primal. “I’ve been better.”

A look of sympathy flickered across her features. Not pity. “I didn’t get a chance to say this before. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” I exhaled long and slow. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” Her brow creased. “But I do feel a bit weird. Like I’m myself but…not.”

A half-grin tugged at my lips. “I know the feeling.”

She nodded. “Holland said it will eventually fade.”

“It does.” Mostly. But I figured I’d keep that part to myself. “I don’t think I really gave you much of a choice when it came to the whole Ascension thing.”

“It’s okay,” she was quick to say. “You knew me and weren’t familiar with the other gods of Lotho. Your decision to Ascend me made sense.”

“That wasn’t the only reason. I trust you, and Holland clearly loves you. That tells me you’re…well, a good person.”

“Holland does have good taste, if I do say so myself.”

I smiled at that. “I hope you are truly okay with this. It puts you in danger.”

“I have been in danger in one way or another for centuries, Sera,” she said. “But now I can do something about it instead of Holland or another. I couldn’t before.”

That made me feel better about cornering her into this role. “Will you be staying longer? There’s something I need to do really quick.”

“Yes. I’ll be around.”

“Okay.” I started to turn.

“Sera?” Penellaphe clasped her hands. “Holland mourns with you.”

My breath caught, and I couldn’t speak through the sudden burn in my throat.

Penellaphe’s smile was sad. “See you in a bit.”

I watched her turn and walk back to the throne room, then closed my eyes. It’ll get better, I told myself. I’ll get better. Opening my eyes, I began my search for Aios.

Luckily, I was able to find her in the kitchens, speaking with Valrie. They were talking about bringing in additional cooks—something Rhain had discussed with me. Gods, that felt like eons ago—but I suspected she also wanted to be close to the throne room.

“How did the meeting go?” she asked as I led her down the hall.

“As well as can be expected. Phanos is a no but claims he will not support Kolis either,” I told her. “Maia is on board.”

“Wow,” she murmured.

I glanced over at her. “Surprised?”

“A little.” Her brows pinched. “But I haven’t spent much time with her in a very long time.” She looked at me closely when I all but pulled her into the library. “Is everything okay?”

I closed the doors behind me and then faced her. Smiling, I did my best to act normal. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?” She moved deeper into the cavernous space, her pale lavender gown swishing at her ankles. It didn’t matter how many wall sconces were turned on, the light only ever cast a dull glow over the rows and rows of books and little else. But Aios was like a fiery torch in the dimness. “Besides the fact that I wouldn’t expect you to be after…what happened, your smile says otherwise.”

“What’s wrong with my smile?”

“Nothing,” she was quick to say. “It’s just a bit large.” A pause. “Unsettlingly so. Just like Bele’s when she’s faking it.”

My lips flattened. “Everything is fine,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. “I just wanted to ask you something in private that has nothing to do with the Primals or the meeting.”

Curiosity etched into her features, and she sat on one of the long, crimson-hued couches. “I’m all ears.”

I opened my mouth, but I wasn’t sure how to ask the question without coming right out with it. “What I’m going to ask is going to sound really random,” I began, passing the rolling ladder, my stomach twisting into knots. I glanced at the portraits of Ash’s parents and then quickly averted my attention. Why had I chosen this space out of all the many, many empty chambers? Sadness dusted it and everything in it.

“Sera?” Aios’s brow creased. “I think I prefer the unsettlingly large smile over this.”

I frowned. “What is my face doing now?”

“You look rather…panic-stricken.”

Well, I was starting to feel rather panic-stricken now that I didn’t have the meeting to distract me.

I walked behind the couch across from Aios and willed my nerves to settle. I didn’t need Ash picking up on my emotions. “In the mortal realm, there were these older women who worshipped at Maia’s Temples and were often sought for specific reasons.”

A lock of red hair cascaded down her arm as she cocked her head to the side. “I know of whom you speak. The Matrons.”

“Yes. Them.” I made another pass behind the couch. “They were able to answer certain questions. How? I don’t know. But I assume they were taught by Maia or gods from her Court.”

The crease between Aios’s brows spread to her forehead. “You would be correct.” She tipped forward, watching me. “Why are you asking questions about this?”

My heart thudded. “I’m not even sure—I mean, I am. What I want to know doesn’t have anything to do with them.” Pressure started to build in my chest, causing me to draw in a deeper breath. Stopping, I grasped the back of the couch. Keep it together. The last thing I needed was for Ash to run out of the throne room in search of me. “Are you able to tell if someone is with child?”

Aios’s lips parted. They moved, but I didn’t hear any sound. It could’ve been the blood pounding in my ears because, all of a sudden, sound came rushing back. “Surely, you don’t mean…?” She hesitated as if saying the words aloud would make them real and she had to prepare herself. “Do you think you’re with child?”

“What?” I laughed—or screeched like a large bird of prey. “No.”

Aios stared at me. “Then why are you asking?”

“Because…” I dropped my forehead onto the back cushion and groaned. “Obviously, I’m asking for myself. And, honestly, I’m probably just overreacting. But you see, I’ve been nauseous lately, and I think I’m late.” My fingers pressed into the cushion as something occurred to me. “I’ve been really emotional, too. I want to cry over everything and anything, and that isn’t me. And I’m actually really late. That could simply be because of stress. A lot has happened.” Forcing myself to lift my head, I looked over at Aios. “Are you able to tell me if I’m overreacting?”

Aios’s mouth snapped shut, and she blinked rapidly. “I can.”

My heart felt like it fell onto the floor. “Then you know?”

“Yes. No.” She gave me a quick shake of her head. “I mean, I don’t know simply by looking at you, but you were right when you said a lot has happened. You’ve been through a lot of stress, both physical and emotional. That can do all ma

Beneath my fingers, the backing of the couch creaked. “I know.”

“And it’s doubtful you would begin feeling symptoms so soon.”

I wanted so badly to believe that. “But it isn’t that soon.”

“It’s fairly difficult for Primals to conceive. Plus, you just Ascended into Primalhood, Sera. You were mortal before then. You would not have been able to conceive.”

“Yeah, see, that’s what I thought, but how mortal was I with Primal embers inside me? How mortal was I after taking Nyktos’s blood?” I said. “Which I did more than once before the Ascension.”

Aios’s chest rose sharply against the delicate lacing of her bodice. “I…I didn’t think about that. There’s no one else like you. I suppose it could be possible, but…”

“I had this dream, or maybe it was a vision, while in stasis—” I closed my eyes for a heartbeat. “I saw two cubs.”

“What?” she exclaimed.

“I saw my nota form, and then I saw two smaller versions of her,” I said.

“Two?” Aios whispered.

“Two.”

“Fates, Sera.” Her throat worked on a swallow, and her shoulders squared. “I can tell you if you are. I would just need to place my hand on your stomach,” she explained, her silver eyes wide. “You really think you’re with child?”

A rather huge part of me screamed no. If I didn’t know for sure, then I could continue on with, well, everything until I found out for myself one way or another. I wouldn’t have to think about how I would accomplish everything while with child…or two. I wouldn’t have to worry about how Ash would respond or—oh, gods—the fact that I could be responsible for another human being. Like really responsible, and not in some vague, Primal of Life and Queen of the Gods sort of way. I could have weeks, maybe even a month of not having to deal with what would be a fairly large complication. I could just pretend. I was really good at that.

But that was irresponsible. And while I was that on most days, I wasn’t actively, idiotically irresponsible. Mostly. I cringed, thinking of what I’d done.

Aios opened her mouth and then closed it.

She rose. Her gown whispered over the stone as she quietly approached me. Coming to stand beside me, she smiled. “It will be easier if you straighten,” she said. “You can still hold on to the couch if you’d like.”

For a moment, I had utterly no idea what she was talking about. Then I realized I was still hunched over, clasping the back of the couch.

Gods.

Prying my fingers loose and straightening, I saw I’d left dents in the backing. “I’m not acting like a…a badass Primal right now.”

Her smile softened. “You’re acting like someone whose entire life may change in a matter of moments.”

A whooshing motion swept through my chest, almost as if my heart decided it wanted nothing to do with this and had exited my body. “That didn’t help.”

“But that’s the reality.” Aios took my hand, and I jumped. I actually jumped. Her chin dipped. “Most people would be this nervous, Sera. Even if they were hoping for a yes.”

Throat drying, I swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“I need to touch your stomach—your bare stomach,” she informed me.

“All right.” Knees feeling weak, I grasped the skirt of the gown and lifted it above my waist. “Aios—” I stopped myself.

“What?”