I forced breath into my lungs, breathing long and slow. As wrong as it was, I didn’t want Kolis to recognize me. I didn’t want to have to use what I’d spent my life training to do to end him. But I didn’t want the kind of bloodshed Nyktos spoke of. That level of destruction would not only rip through Iliseeum; it was sure to spread to the mortal realm, as well. The only way either realm survived was if I lived—at least, long enough for Nyktos to take the embers. But if Kolis realized who I was…
Then all I could do was prevent a war. That wasn’t much. The mortal realm would be lost and, eventually, at some point in the distant future, so would Iliseeum. But it was something.
“I have never asked anything of you,” I said, meeting his gaze.
“You have asked seven things of me, to be exact.”
“Okay. Forget those things. What I’m asking now—no, what I will beg of you is far more important.”
Nyktos stiffened, the eather flaring brightly in his eyes as if he knew what I was about to say. And maybe he did.
“If Kolis recognizes me as Sotoria, I don’t want you to intervene.”
“Sera—”
“I cannot be the cause of a war that will destroy cities and end in countless deaths. I would never be free then. Whatever life I had wouldn’t bring me any joy, knowing that,” I said, my voice trembling. “I couldn’t live with it. I would be as good as dead. I know the embers are important, but—”
“It is not only the fucking embers that are important, Sera. You.” He inhaled sharply as I jolted. “You are important. And what you ask of me is to walk away, leaving you to not only certain death but also with Kolis. If Aios told you all, then you know what that will entail. And you also have to know that it will be far worse for you because you won’t be his favorite. You will be his in all the ways he believes he has a right to.”
Nausea rose. “I know.”
He was right in front of me now, his eyes full of swirling eather. “Then you have to know that what you ask of me is to do exactly what you say you cannot do—what I’ve already had to do my entire life. To live while knowing I’ve left others behind to suffer and die in unimaginable ways. To live when I’m already dead inside.”
I drew back. “You’re not dead inside.”
“You really think that?” He laughed, and it was icy. Smoky. “Even had I never had my kardia removed, I wouldn’t be capable of love. Not after what I’ve had to do. What I’ve allowed. That alone would have left me unworthy of experiencing such an emotion. And that goodness you see in me? That part of me that you believe extends to all others, it’s almost gone. Letting Kolis destroy yet another innocent—destroy you—will take what is left of that goodness. I will become something far worse than Kolis.”
He fears becoming Kolis.
I hadn’t thought that possible when Nektas had said it. I still didn’t, but I knew that didn’t matter if Nyktos believed it. If I demanded that others not tell me how to feel, it was not my place to then do one of those things I hated.
Which meant we were at a crossroads. In a stalemate and left with two options that neither of us could live with.
And neither realm would likely survive.
“Then I guess…” Exhaling roughly, I looked up at him. “Then I guess we’re screwed.”
He stared at me for a moment and then barked out a short, ragged laugh. “I suppose that is one way of saying it.”
“Or maybe you two will get lucky and he won’t recognize you.” Nektas came through the open adjoining door with Jadis still sprawled over his shoulder and chest. Reaver followed in his draken form, gliding to the couch. “Jadis wanted to see you before you left,” Nektas explained. “And I decided to eavesdrop.”
“Not shocked to hear that,” I murmured.
At the sound of my voice, Jadis lifted her ruddy cheeks. Blinking sleep-heavy, crimson eyes, she stretched two little arms in my direction as Nektas brought her to me. I didn’t know what to do, but when I lifted my hands, she grasped fistfuls of my hair and bent over, pressing her lips to my forehead.
It was the messiest, wettest, and sweetest kiss I’d ever received.
“Night-night,” she murmured, pulling back.
“That’s her way of saying goodbye,” Nektas explained.
“Night-night,” I whispered, voice strangely thick as I carefully untangled her fingers from my hair.
Her rosy lips parted and spread in a beautiful smile. Then she turned to Nyktos and repeated the same. The strangest thing happened as the Primal moved closer to the little draken. It was like a flush of the muscles. They went loose and then tightened as I watched him bend his head to her and take her tiny arms in a gentle grasp. The wet smack against his forehead and his answering smile made my heart do all kinds of weird things.
I quickly looked away, swallowing the sudden thickness in my throat. There had been nothing fake about his smile. His entire face had warmed. And, gods, that expression, the gentle way he held the child’s arms, said there was a lot more of him that was still alive than he realized.
“I want to go with you two,” Nektas said quietly. “But only you and Ash can answer the summons.”
Clearing my throat, I nodded. “You really think we’ll be lucky?”
“I don’t see why luck couldn’t be on our side this time.” Nektas clasped the back of my neck with his free hand. “I will see you again.”
I believed him.
I just hoped it wasn’t at the beginning of a war.
Nyktos and I stood on his balcony under the light gray skies. We wouldn’t be traveling by horse. I was about to experience the oddity that was shadowstepping again.
“You ready?” Nyktos asked.
Not at all, but I didn’t say that as I tipped back my head to look at the faint glimmer of stars. All that hurt I’d tucked away just a day ago seemed insignificant in the face of what awaited us. “You know,” I said, heart pounding, “I’ve discovered that I’d rather not know when I’m about to pass out.”
“Understandable.” He was close, standing behind me. “Once you Ascend, you won’t pass out or feel any pain from this. You’ll be able to do it yourself.”
As I touched the smooth railing, once I Ascended felt like a longshot instead of a possibility. “Before we go, can you tell me what to expect? Like what are some of the things Kolis may demand of us?” I asked.
There was a gap of silence and then, “The possibilities are endless,” he said, his tone flat. “Once he demanded that I rip out the heart of a godling who hadn’t bowed as quickly as the others when I passed.”
Embers of eather vibrated as I closed my eyes. “How many of the marks on your skin are because of what he has demanded?”
“One hundred and ten,” he answered.
Bile clogged my throat. He’d known that without having to think about the number.
“I’ve lost count of the atrocities I’ve witnessed,” he continued after a beat. “I used to have to force myself to watch if there was nothing I could do. I miss those days. Because now…now I don’t believe I even bat an eyelash.”
He might have no physical reaction to the horror, but I knew it still got to him. It was in the rasp of his tone. “Have you been there when he…when he gets tired of one of his favorites?”
“I have.”
My stomach continued to churn. “And?”
“And I’ve had to look the other way until I could try to get them out. Sometimes, I was too late to do anything.”
“But you have intervened.” I gripped the railing, thinking of Saion and Rhahar and the Chosen he’d saved.