“You mean my death,” I rasped.
Aios cringed. “Yes. Or maybe not,” she added quickly when I shuddered. “Maybe the ember of life is just weakened in a mortal body, no longer able to hold off the effects of what was done.” She sat back with a faint shrug. “Or I could be completely wrong, and everyone should just ignore me.”
“No. You may be onto something,” Ash said thoughtfully, and I thought I might be sick as his attention shifted to me. A heartbeat passed while he studied me. “What’s going on, Sera?”
I couldn’t answer.
“This is more than just a surprise to you.” Eather trickled into his irises. “You’re feeling way too much for this to be confusion surrounding some sort of misinterpretation.”
Misinterpretation? A wet-sounding laugh rattled out of me. I knew he must be picking up on my emotions, reading them, and at that moment, I couldn’t even care. I didn’t think even he could decipher exactly what I was feeling.
The tremors had made their way through my body, shaking out any chance of denial.
What everyone said made sense. The day in the Red Woods, I realized how similar the Shadowlands were to the Rot in Lasania—the gray, dead grass, the skeletons of twisted, bare limbs, and the scent of stale lilacs that permeated the ruined soil.
But that meant—oh, gods, that meant that if the deal wasn’t responsible for the Rot, there was nothing I could do. Worse yet, it would spread throughout the entire mortal realm. And if Aios was right, it was because of my birth. Because this ember was now alive in a body that would eventually give out and die, taking the ember of life with it. The clock that had been counting down this entire time wasn’t the deal coming to an end. It was me coming to an end.
I pressed a hand to my roiling stomach as I stood, no longer able to stay seated. I backed away from the table.
“Sera.” Ash turned in the chair toward me. “What’s going on?”
I shoved hair back from my face, tugging on the strands. I didn’t see Ash. I didn’t see anyone in that room. All I saw was the Coupers lying in that bed, side by side, flies swarming their bodies. And then I saw countless families like that. Hundreds of thousands. Millions. “I thought I could stop it,” I whispered, the back of my throat burning. “That’s what I spent my…my entire life on. I thought I could stop it. Everything I did. The loneliness. The fucking Veil of the Chosen. The training—the becoming nothing. The godsdamn grooming,” I dragged my hands down my face. “It was worth it. I would save my people. It didn’t matter what happened to me in the end—”
Ash was suddenly in front of me, the press of his hands cool against my cheeks. “Did you all think fulfilling the deal would somehow stop the Rot?”
Another strangled laugh left me. “No. We thought…”
Make him fall in love.
Become his weakness.
End him.
I shuddered as I felt it—that swift, acute sense of being able to truly breathe. Like I had felt when he hadn’t taken me the first night I’d been presented to him. Relief. The reason was different this time. I didn’t have to manipulate him. I didn’t have to make him fall in love with me and then hurt him—kill him.
His face came into view, the sharp angles and the hollowness under his cheekbones. The rich, reddish-brown hair and striking, swirling eyes. The features of a Primal, who was nothing like I assumed or wanted to believe. Thoughtful and kind despite all he’d lost—despite all the pain he’d felt that would’ve changed most into something of a nightmare. A man that I…that I had begun to enjoy. To care for, even before I realized who he was and we’d sat side by side at the lake. A person who made me feel like someone. Like I wasn’t a blank canvas, an empty vessel.
Someone who had only been born to kill.
I didn’t have to do what I didn’t want. And, oh gods, I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to even be capable of that. And I didn’t have to be. The relief was so all-consuming, so potent, the rush of raw emotion threatened to swallow me. The only thing that stopped it was what had the night he hadn’t claimed me.
The guilt.
The bitter, churning guilt.
Millions would still die, even if I didn’t have to take his life. That was no blessing. No real reprieve.
“Sera,” Ash whispered.
I lifted my gaze to his, my breath seizing in my chest as his thumb swept over my cheek, chasing away a tear. The whipping tendrils of eather in his ultra-bright eyes snared mine.
“I don’t think she thought becoming your Consort would save her people.” Bele’s voice was a crack, reminding me that we weren’t alone and shattering something deep in me as the wisps in Ash’s eyes stilled. “I think she learned how to end a deal in favor of the summoner.”
Ash said nothing as he stared at me. Someone cursed. I heard the scrape of chair legs over stone, and then I felt it. A tremor in Ash’s hands, and the charge of energy suddenly pouring into the chamber, crackling over my skin. I saw it. The thinning of his skin and the shadows gathering underneath.
“You believed that the future of Lasania hinged on this deal—on you fulfilling it, but not as my Consort.” His voice was so quiet, so soft it sent a chill over my skin. “Do you know how to end a deal in the favor of the summoner?”
Every part in me screamed that I should lie. A surprising dose of self-preservation kicked in. That was the smart thing to do, but I was so tired of lying. Of hiding. “I do.”
Ash inhaled sharply. Shadows peeled away from the corners of the chamber and gathered around him—around us. “Is that why you kept going back to the Shadow Temple after I refused you? Is that why you wanted to fulfill the deal you never agreed to?”
Another fissure cut through my chest. “Yes.”
Eather crackled from his eyes as light began streaking through the swirling shadows winding up his back. The breath I took formed a misty, puffy cloud in the space between us. “Your training. Your grooming.” The tips of his fangs became visible as his lips peeled back. “All of what you’ve done from the day you were born until this very moment was to become my weakness?”
Pressure clamped my chest. I couldn’t answer. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the chamber, and what was left was too cold and thick to breathe. A burn started in my core, spreading to my throat as the eather-laced shadows took shape behind him, forming wings.
I was going to die.
I knew that then as I stared into those so-very-still, dead eyes. I couldn’t even blame him for it. I stood before him because I’d planned on killing him. I’d always known my death would come at his hands or because I had ended his life.
“You,” he said, his voice a whisper of night, his hand sliding over my jaw. His palm pressed against the side of my throat. He tilted my head back, and I was no longer looking up at Ash. This was a Primal. The Primal of Death. He was Nyktos to me now. “You had to know you would not have walked away from this, even if you had succeeded. You’d be dead the moment you pulled that fucking shadowstone blade from my chest.