A Fire in the Flesh (Flesh and Fire, #3)

“Ash.” A palpation in my chest—a whooshing sensation—took my breath, but only for a second. I ignored it. “This is important.”

“No, Sera. That soul isn’t important. You are.” His whirling silver eyes fixed on the other Primal. “She is what matters. And if I have to repeat that, I will rip out your tongue.”

A buzzing, bubbling sensation filled me as I stared up at the harshly beautiful lines of Ash’s face. It wasn’t the rather grotesque threat that made my heart swell and fill. It was the other words he’d spoken. That I was important to him. I mattered to him. I already knew I did, but I felt them in how he held me, tightly but gently. I heard them in how fiercely he spoke. I saw them in how he looked at me, his eyes a luminous, warm silver, and I knew them to be true.

I was important.

I mattered.

Not for what I had been born to do but for who I was.

And that realization wasn’t something that came all of a sudden, only because Ash had said them. It was something I’d always known, wasn’t it? I wouldn’t have been so relieved all those years ago when Ash refused to take me as his Consort. I’d known then that my life mattered, despite my duty and so-called failures. I just hadn’t allowed myself to accept the truth. Ash helped me see that. Accept it.

But I knew that Sotoria’s soul was also important.

Leaning into Ash, I cupped his cheek. Those frigid eyes landed on me. “I love you,” I whispered. “I love your protectiveness. I love that you see me. That I’m important to you. That I matter. I love you so very much for that.”

A shudder went through him as the eather whirled more fiercely in his eyes. “You are the only thing that matters.”

“But I’m not,” I told him. “Sotoria does. Like your father, she has been trapped and doesn’t deserve what will happen if her soul remains in me.”

A muscle began ticking in his jaw.

“That’s not fair to her. You know that.” I drew my finger along his lower lip. “And I know you wouldn’t want that for her. My importance doesn’t cancel out hers.”

Eather flared brightly in his eyes. “I disagree.”

“Are you sure your kardia was correctly removed?” Attes asked dryly. He lifted a hand when Ash’s head swung toward him. “Just asking.”

“Ignore him.” I guided his gaze back to me. “Look, I’ve started the Ascension, but I’m not going to fully Ascend right this moment. We have time to take care of this, and it’s not like it will hurt me.” I looked over my shoulder, glancing between the two Primals. “Right?”

“It shouldn’t,” Keella answered.

“That’s not entirely reassuring,” Nektas murmured from where he stood.

“No, it isn’t.” Ash’s eyes narrowed on the Primal goddess.

“What we plan in regard to removing Sotoria’s soul and setting her on a path to be reborn is not without risk,” Keella said. “It could incite the wrath of the Fates.”

“What doesn’t incite their wrath?” I muttered dryly.

“Not much.” Keella’s brief smile vanished as she knelt beside Ash and me, her voice becoming solemn. “There is a balance to life, one that Eythos understood, but Kolis never truly could, no matter how hard he tried to. You see, if there is life, there must also be death.”

Understanding crept in as I thought about Marisol and my stepfather. “If you bring someone back to life, another loses their life? That kind of balance?”

“It’s more than that, Seraphena. The Fates were never fond of restoring life. Not even what I do by giving those who never truly lived a chance to do so. But reincarnation is a loophole of sorts. What Kolis has done, what Eythos and I took part in, and what we are about to do again will upset the balance.”

I wasn’t sure what she was getting at.

Keella leaned in, her ancient gaze fixing on mine. “There was a reason Eythos had to be careful when it came to restoring life—giving it back to one who’d passed. It cannot be done twice for the same person—mortal, god, or draken—without the Arae intervening in some fashion, becoming the checks and balances. Therefore, doing so will never end the way one intends. Either death will come for them again, or the Arae will reset the balance in some other way.” Her lips quirked. “After all, look at the mess we—Kolis, Eythos, and I—have created with Sotoria.” She paused. “And there is no way the Fates have not dipped their hands in this and made it even messier.”

“That’s…that’s why Holland called the Revenants an abomination, isn’t it?” I glanced at Ash. “Because they keep coming back.”

Keella nodded. “Sotoria has died multiple times and was brought back in one form or another. Then her soul was reincarnated. That ceased when we placed her with the embers. She was supposed to be reborn. That did not occur.”

It struck me then. “Could the Fates have been why I wasn’t reborn as Sotoria and instead became a…a vessel for her?”

“I cannot answer that for sure, but if I had to hazard a guess, I would say so.”

I shook my head. “So, they could do something similar again?”

“Or not.” Keella tilted her head. “They could do something far more…concerning. There’s no way to know, but it would be foolish of us not to consider the risk.”

I studied her. “You sound afraid of the Arae.”

“The oldest of us are wise enough to be wary of them.” She smiled. “We may be Primals, but we are not the ultimate power.”

“At this moment, I couldn’t care less about pissing off the Fates. That wasn’t what I was asking,” Ash stated, impatience filling his tone. “Will removing Sotoria’s soul harm Sera in any way?”

Keella’s gaze flicked up to Ash. “No.”

That was a relief. “How is it done?”

“Have you been able to sense the dual souls?”

He shook his head. “I’ve only ever been able to feel the imprint of Sera’s soul.”

“Interesting.” Keella’s brows furrowed and then smoothed out. “Since I have handled this soul before, I will be able to, but I need your help, Nyktos. I need you to keep your hands on Sera and concentrate on her soul.”

“Is there a chance you will do something to Sera’s soul?” Ash demanded.

A trickle of unease ran down my spine as Ehthawn lifted his head from where it rested. Nektas stepped forward, his arms crossing.

Keella smiled. “Not if you do as I request. You will…basically be anchoring yourself to her soul. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Ash said, and I was glad he did because I didn’t. “Let’s do this then.”

Attes stepped forward, lifting the saddlebag. Reaching inside, he pulled out the diamond and extended his hand, his fingers opening.

The Star rested on his palm, its edges jagged and irregular. There was no milky light filling the diamond now, but every part reflected whatever light found its way to it, casting shimmering rainbow hues over my legs and across the floor.