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

I tipped my head back so I could see his face. “How is he not a problem? He is the problem.”

“Right now, he’s not a problem,” Ash clarified. “Kolis was already weakened before your Ascension. You rising as the true Primal of Life not only has him holed up in Dalos nursing his wounds, but every god and Primal in Iliseeum felt your Ascension.”

My stomach took a sharp tumble. “Why does that last part sound like bad news?”

“It is neither good nor bad.” He traced small circles on my arm. “I’m sure most of the Primals are in shock and don’t know what to make of your Ascension, even those loyal to Kolis.”

My mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario per usual. “And what if they’re unhappy about my Ascension once they’ve wrapped their heads around everything?”

“Then we will deal with that.” His fingers continued making designs. “Together.”

I didn’t need any special, ancient knowledge to know that dealing with unhappy Primals would be violent and bloody. I could feel my chest tightening—a telltale sign of my old friend: anxiety. The corners of my lips turned down. I’d survived the impossible, Ascending into the true Primal of Life, and I still had crushing anxiety?

Seemed rather unfair.

“The other Primals’ shock and the blow dealt to Kolis has bought us some time,” Ash assured me, obviously picking up on my anxiousness. “Not a lot, but enough that they can all wait right now. Sooner rather than later, Nektas…” He paused, his brow creasing. “I have a vague recollection of him being at the door.”

The corners of my lips tipped up. “He heard me screaming and was worried. You threatened to murder him if he didn’t leave.”

His brows lifted. “I think I owe him an apology.”

Another giggle snuck free.

Vibrant wisps of eather appeared in his eyes. “Your laugh.” His lashes swept down. “It’s such a beautiful sound.” He swallowed, letting out a ragged breath. The eather had calmed in his eyes. “I love it.”

All thoughts of Kolis, apologizing to Nektas, and well…everything else vanished. Love. I would never get tired of hearing that word coming out of his mouth. Even if it was only him saying he loved grapefruit or…ripping out throats.

Ash’s eyes met mine. “One of the things I need to tell you? I’ve never told anyone.”

“Okay.” I spread my fingers across his chest. “I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath as he eased his hand from my hair and then curled it around my nape. “There…there was a time I hated my father for making this deal, for linking some mortal girl to me when he knew it would only bring death and horror upon her. That was before—well, before I knew why he did it. But every year that passed and the bride promised to him—and then to me—wasn’t born, I celebrated.”

“I can’t blame you for that.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t.” He dropped a kiss to the tip of my nose. “But then you were born, and I hated him even more.” He kneaded the muscles of my neck with gentle pressure as he held me there, then let out a shaky breath. “There are things I haven’t been entirely honest about.”

Curiosity rose. “Like what?”

“I wasn’t exactly truthful about why I refused to take you as my Consort and had limited contact with you. Part of it was to keep you unknown to Kolis, but that wasn’t the only reason.” His eyes searched mine. “The night you were born? I had a dream. I saw you…I saw you as you are now, in that—” He inhaled sharply. “In that lake of yours, and so godsdamn beautiful.” His voice thickened. “Your hair cascaded across the dark water like spun moonlight, and these perfect, rosy lips were smiling up at me.”

I grew still as a vague memory of what he’d told me while I was in stasis resurfaced. Something about having a dream that wasn’t. When he saw my lake before he ever laid eyes on it.

“I saw you dying in that lake, and I saw myself—” He became as rigid as I was, then shook his head. “I chalked it up to my imagination, even though I sensed your birth. Just a strange dream. But then I saw you as a child, and I…I saw the lake.” He shuddered. “You know this already, but I kept track of you over the years, mostly to ensure you were safe. I witnessed you slowly becoming the beautiful woman I had seen in my dream.”

A tremor swept through me, and I slid my hand from his chest. I grasped the back of his neck, my heart aching at where I suspected this was headed—the story of what he’d done to himself. I wished more than anything that my suspicions weren’t true because if I was right, the guilt must have…gods, it had to have been killing him this whole time.

“I did everything in my power to deny that the dream was anything more than that. Even after the first night I was to take you as my Consort.”

A muscle bunched in his jaw. “Even after I sensed your emotions—the bravery that overshadowed your fear. I’d never felt anything like that before, not from generals in wars long since forgotten or gods as they faced down Kolis before their deaths. And each and every time I saw you from then on, that bravery never faltered. Not when I saw you that night in the Garden District at the seamstress’s house and that damn lake. You were always so fucking brave, even when your life was in danger or you were in pain.”

His lips firmed, a tangible sign of the emotions that churned within him. “And what I sensed from you, time and time again, was the same thing I sensed in that dream—fear but bravery as you died. And I could no longer deny that it was no simple dream. It was a vision. It didn’t show me how you died or why, but I believed Kolis had to be involved. So, I was determined to keep what I saw from coming true. At least that’s what I told myself. But in reality, Sera? What I saw—what I felt—in that vision? It terrified me.” His jaw flexed. “So, I had my kardia removed right before I brought you into the Shadowlands. I was still healing from it the first few days.”

My breath stilled in my lungs. I was right. Worse yet, I clearly remembered accidentally walking into him after having supper in the dining hall. His hiss of agony had stayed with me. Tears dampened my lashes. Somehow, knowing that he’d had his kardia removed after growing to know me made it all…it made it even more tragic.

He briefly closed his eyes. “I never should have done it. I should’ve been more like you—afraid but courageous. Instead, I was a coward.”

“No,” I denied, rising onto one elbow. “You’ve never been—”

“I was, Sera.”

Tangled curls fell over my shoulders as I sat up, the ends brushing against my legs. “You’re no coward.”