A surge of pure, red-hot anger coursed through me as Attes took a step toward me. “Seraphena—”

I reacted without hesitation, and this time, I wasn’t slow or weak.

Swinging at him with every ounce of strength I had in me, I caught him in the jaw with my fist.

Pain erupted across my knuckles as Attes grunted, his head snapping back. I cursed, shaking my throbbing hand.

“Fuck,” Attes bit out, pressing his hand to his jaw as he lowered his chin. His chest rose with a deep breath. “I suppose I deserved that, but godsdamn, you can hit.”

“You deserve worse than that.” I started toward him.

“I’m sure I do.” Attes held up a hand, sidestepping me. “But you make a move against me one more time, and you will bring out my most basic Primal nature,” he warned, his eyes blazing with fiery eather. “And you do not want that.”

I wasn’t so sure.

The embers throbbed fiercely in my chest, pressing against my skin. They wanted out—wanted at him. Or, more likely, they were simply responding to what I wanted.

However, some level of common sense prevailed. I knew I wouldn’t win a fight against the Primal of fucking War and Accord.

I forced myself to back down. “You betrayed us.”

“You already said that.” Watching me warily, he lowered his arm. “But you’re wrong.”

“I don’t think so,” I spat.

His eyes narrowed. “What I did was save lives, you little hellion.”

“Save lives?” I let out a scathing laugh as I stepped back even farther in an attempt to cling to my rapidly waning common sense. “Exactly how did you accomplish that by launching an attack on the Shadowlands alongside your brother?”

“I launched no attack against the Shadowlands. If I had, they would be nothing but ruins.” Eather crackled in his eyes. “And my brother had no choice. When Kolis had you kill Thad, it forced Kyn’s hand. Just as Kolis planned.”

My stomach twisted with nausea as I thought about the young draken Kolis had forced me to slaughter as punishment for Ash not seeking his permission before announcing that he was taking me as his Consort. “I brought Thad back.”

“I remember. But Kyn didn’t know that. He still doesn’t, for obvious

reasons,” he reminded me. “Kyn was supposed to capture you, but not before he leveled the Shadowlands, leaving only the road to the Abyss and the Vale remaining. When I took you, I stopped that from happening.”

I inhaled sharply, thinking about the people in the city of Lethe, both mortal and god. I felt a little dizzy. “Was that what Kolis ordered?”

“In a roundabout way. He told Kyn to make a statement.” Attes’s

shoulders tensed. “You don’t tell a Primal of War or Vengeance that and not expect utter devastation.”

I swallowed down the knot of fear building in my throat.

“The attack ended as soon as I took you,” Attes said. “I swear.”

“You give your word?” I sneered, heart thumping. “As if that means anything.”

He sighed. “You don’t trust me.” “No shit,” I snapped.

Attes studied me for a few tense moments. When next he spoke, his voice was lower, calmer. “Kolis has known about you for a very long time.”

“I know.” My hands curled into fists. Fury surged at the painful reminder that Kolis had been aware of me since the night I was born, and had only been waiting for the embers to mature and me to use them. And everything Ash sacrificed? The deal he’d made with that bitch Veses, allowing her to feed from him to ensure my existence was kept secret? It had been for nothing.

The embers in my chest throbbed, responding even more now. Static raced down my arms, startling me. Lifting them, I saw that the fine hairs there had risen.

Attes’s stare sharpened on me, almost as if he sensed the energy ramping up inside me. Maybe he did. Either way, I needed to calm myself. That was easier said than done, though, when I normally existed in one of two states: restless or ready to murder someone. Most of the time, there was no in- between.

And I really wanted to murder Veses. Badly.

However, I was in a fucking cage, talking to Attes, and Veses was

hopefully still imprisoned in the House of Haides, so that wouldn’t happen. “Then you know there was no stopping what happened,” Attes said.

“Kolis would’ve taken you one way or another. The only thing that could’ve

been prevented was the unnecessary mass loss of innocents.” “Am I supposed to thank you for that?” I nearly shrieked.

“I don’t need your thanks but would appreciate it if you kept your voice

down,” he ordered. “There are guards outside this chamber. And while shadowstone is thick, it’s not completely soundproof.”

“What will happen if they discover you in here?” I asked, giving him a cursory glance. “Naked?”

“Does my nudity bother you?” The fucker grinned until a godsdamn dimple appeared in his cheek.

Fuck common sense.

Bending, I picked up the comb I’d dropped and threw it right at his face. “No,” I growled as his hand snapped out, catching the comb an inch from his nose. “But I bet it will bother Kolis.”

The grin disappeared as he tossed the comb onto the bed. “Yeah, it

would.” His gaze dipped to my mouth and jaw. “But you would likely pay a far steeper price for it than I.”

Cheeks warming, I realized he was looking at the bruises. I stiffened. “As if you care.”

“You have no idea what I care about or don’t.” His jaw tightened as he looked at the closed doors.

“You’re right. And, frankly, I don’t care.”

“You need to.” A moment later, he waved his hand, and a pair of black leather pants appeared out of thin air, encasing his legs.

Reluctant jealousy rose. If I had that talent, I’d conjure something that constituted clothing. I started to ask him to do that for me but realized wearing something that didn’t run the risk of flashing a nipple would raise questions.

“We likely do not have long for this conversation,” he continued. “So, I need you to understand that I’m not here to betray Nyktos or you—especially you. After all, I have saved your life before. More than once.”

“What?” I scoffed. “You’re going to have to refresh my memory—” I cut myself off. Attes had stopped Kolis when he was draining my blood to get at the embers. It wasn’t like I’d forgotten that. My anger at Attes’s betrayal had sort of blocked out that little fact. “You intervened when Kolis was feeding on me. I wouldn’t go as far as to say you saved my life.”

A quick grin returned to Attes’s lips. “But that wasn’t the first time.”

A frown tugged at my brows, then they lifted as I finally saw—or acknowledged—what had been right in front of me, having flown in through the window. “That was you? The hawk in the Dying Woods?”

A slight grin appeared. “It was.”

As Attes’s confirmation landed like a fist to the chest, my mind suddenly blanked for several seconds. And then I remembered what Ash had said about hawks—that they were a symbol that belonged to his father, along with the

wolf. Kolis used the same representations, except his were golden, while… “Eythos’s hawks were silver,” I murmured.

Attes frowned. “They were.”

I blinked. “Did Eythos shift forms?” “He did. All Primals can.”

“And was his a hawk?” I surmised. “Or a wolf?”

“A wolf,” he confirmed. “Though, he always wished to fly with the hawks.”

I started to ask why he hadn’t chosen to take the form of the bird of prey, then, but did that matter? No. “And Kolis? What does he shift into?”

“A hawk,” he said with a wry twist of his lips.

I blinked. Why in the realm would Eythos and Kolis—nope. Not important. “If that was you in the woods that night, why didn’t—?” I almost said “Ash” again but using the name only a few called him by in front of

Attes didn’t feel right. “Why didn’t Nyktos know you were there?”

“Primals cannot sense one another when we’re in our nota forms—when we take the shape of the animal we find ourselves most connected to,” he explained. “Just as Kolis didn’t sense him in his wolf form.”

And I hadn’t felt Attes until he shifted. “Why?”

His bare grin returned. “Because when we’re in our nota forms, it is us but…not.”

Well, that just explained everything, didn’t it?

“Seeing you in the Dying Woods that night was luck. I was snooping when I came across you there.” The light glinted off the silver cuff encircling

his biceps as he rubbed a hand over his chin. “I’m half-afraid to ask what you were doing.”

I wasn’t going to get into that. “What about in the Red Woods? Before then?”

“That wasn’t me, but it was one of my many unique hawks. I felt its death and then sensed it come back to life. That was how I knew Nyktos had brought you to the Shadowlands.”

My thoughts raced as I ended up asking probably the least important question. “What do you mean by unique hawks?”

“They’re what we call a chora. They’re basically an extension of the Primal that takes the nota shape. They are created from our blood and are very much alive,” he said, his words becoming draped in a shroud of sorrow. “Iliseeum used to be full of chora. It was once a tradition, a way to honor our nota, as was the Primal notam—a bond formed with those we take the shape of. It was common when Eythos reigned, but impossible under Kolis. Most of the Primals have lost all of theirs, but the chora that still exist can do so for

centuries and longer, even if the Primal they are bonded to enters Arcadia.”

Well, that was all kinds of weird. “So, this is yet another thing that has died out with Kolis?” My head jerked to the side. “How you’ve all gone along with what Kolis has done is beyond me.”

Attes’s body locked into place, tensing like a coiled spring. “With Eythos’s death, and Nyktos having no Primal embers of life, we had no choice.”

No choice? I almost laughed. If my often-irrational ass could realize there was always a choice, there was no excuse for the Primals not to have come to that conclusion after living for hundreds if not thousands of years.

Something Attes had said moments before came back to me as I smoothed my hands over my hips. “Wait a minute. This chora of yours I saw in the Red Woods, it was doing the snooping for you?”

“It’s not an it, Seraphena. It’s a hawk, flesh and blood, which you should know.”

“Whatever.” My patience was thinning. “Exactly why were you snooping before you even met me?”

“Because I already knew of your existence.” Attes’s gaze locked with mine. “I’ve known longer than either Nyktos or Kolis.”

I…I was at a loss for what to say.

“I knew what Eythos did before Kolis or Nyktos figured it out. Eythos and I were brothers in a way that he and Kolis never were. Friends,” he shared, his voice changing. It now carried the bittersweetness of the pain and joy of knowing and then losing someone. “And I was one of the few entrusted with the knowledge of what Eythos did.”

Backing up, I sat on the edge of the divan. Ash believed that Attes had been testing me that day in the study at the House of Haides, trying to feed into my emotions. And Ash became concerned, because when it didn’t work, he knew the Primal of War and Accord would realize something was up. But if Attes spoke the truth now, he’d actually been testing how strong the embers had become.

If he was speaking the truth.

His knowledge of what Eythos did explained why he’d been so quick to believe my claim regarding Sotoria. He must have known.

I looked up at him, finding the Primal watching me closely. He made sense, but I only trusted a small handful of people, and he wasn’t anywhere near that list.

“If you knew about the embers, why were you so surprised when I brought Thad back?” I asked.

“Honestly?”

“No, tell me a lie,” I retorted.

Attes grinned. “Because I have not seen life restored—real life, with my own eyes—since Eythos. But more than that? I never thought his plan would work.” A bit of wonder seeped into his tone. “Restoring life to a hawk is one thing, but a draken?” His eyes wandered upward as he shook his head. After a moment, he exhaled softly, and his gaze returned to mine. There was a

sense of wonder in his expression. “Eythos was under the impression that the embers would protect you and maybe give you some ability to restore life, but not to that extent. Even before the embers he stole from Eythos died out, Kolis couldn’t bring a draken back.”

“Then why was I able to?” I blurted out.

Attes’s gaze went to the floor as his head moved from side to side once more. “I don’t know. But if I had to guess based on what I’ve seen and heard about, including your recent escape attempt?”

My eyes narrowed.

“The embers are bonding with you, allowing you to access more of the

essence.” He shrugged. “It happens when gods near their Ascension, just as it does with Primals.”

I swallowed, clasping my knees as I processed everything I’d just heard, which felt slightly impossible at the moment. “Why didn’t you tell Nyktos any of this? And I don’t want to hear anything about how the knowledge

would’ve endangered him. That’s bullshit. It’s not like he would’ve run off and confronted Kolis, revealing what he knew. He’s not foolish.” I leaned forward, anger sparking. “And if you think that, then you and Eythos underestimated Nyktos. That is what endangered him. If he knew about the

embers from the beginning, so many things could’ve been done differently. It would’ve prevented me…”

Brow creasing, Attes knelt. “Prevented you from doing what?”

From taking that tiny bit of Ash’s blood that had inevitably put our lives on a collision course with death. My death.

“You should’ve told him,” I said instead of sharing that with him.

A long beat of silence passed as Attes stared at the tile. “You’re right, but Eythos had no choice but to keep silent. Nor did I. When he put the embers in your bloodline”—tension formed brackets at the corners of his mouth—“and put Sotoria’s soul with them? He fucked with fate in a major way. And the

Arae do not like to be fucked with.”

Thinking of Holland, I grimaced. “I know all about the Fates.”

“Do you?” he asked, his head tilting. “Then you know they are the ones who prevented Eythos from telling his son what he did?”

I tensed. “I know one of the Arae. He didn’t say anything about that.” “Of course, not. Because he probably didn’t want a comb thrown at his

face.”

I glared at him.

The brief teasing glint vanished from his eyes. “You see, when you mess with fate and think you got away with it, you quickly find out you didn’t.

Every action has a reaction, one that becomes either a reward or a

consequence. That creates balance. And if that balance is undone in the minds of the Arae? They will reset it in the most fucked-up ways

imaginable,” he said. “And in this case? They prevented Eythos and anyone else from telling Nyktos what was done. Because in their minds, that balanced things out.”

Disbelief flashed through me, leaving me feeling like I was caught in a surreal dream that no amount of pinching or shaking could snap me from. “How is what Eythos did such a huge upset to the balance when you have Kolis running around stealing embers and killing Primals?” I demanded.

“How does that not mess with fate?”

Attes’s laugh was quick and harsh. “Who’s to say that Kolis got away with fucking with the Fates?”

“Looks to me like he’s doing pretty damn well for himself,” I declared. “Is he?” Attes tossed back. “To get what he’s wanted, he’ll have to risk

killing the only person he’s ever loved.”

I snapped my mouth shut. Attes had a point there. It seemed like Eythos’s actions had created the punishment for Kolis.

My foot tapped the floor as I realized Holland hadn’t been entirely forthcoming. I knew it wasn’t like he was the only Arae, and I also recognized that he had to walk a fine line between advising and interference, but I wanted to do worse than throw a comb at his face the next time I saw him.

If I did.

I exhaled loudly. “Okay, so if everything you say is true, then get Nyktos out of Dalos.”

“I would if I could.”

“If you could?” I rose, anger lodging in my chest. “You’re a Primal who flew in here as a hawk.”

“That doesn’t mean I can fly out of a cell as a hawk with Nyktos.” He stood cautiously, almost as if he expected me to throw another punch. “You see these bars? Have you touched them?”

“Yes.” I began pacing. “It didn’t feel that great.”

“Of course, not. They are bones of the Ancients.” He jerked his chin at them. “They’re chock-full of eather and powerful wards.”

Bones? My lip curled as I noted the discoloration in the gold once more. Ew.

“Those bones, when wielded as a weapon? Prick even the skin of a god? Dead. And because of the embers, if I try to take you through them and you get nicked? Dead. They can even put a Primal into years-long stasis,” he told me. “Nyktos is just as imprisoned by them as you are, and he’s far more

guarded.”

Slowly, I faced him as an image formed—the weapon the Primal of the Hunt and Divine Justice had held. “Was that what Hanan’s spear was made of?”

He nodded.

“Then, clearly, the bones of the Ancients can be destroyed,” I said. “Only by two Primals: the Primal of Life and the Primal of Death.”

Great.

I crossed my arms. “But can they kill a Primal with more than just a few embers?”

“They can kill a fledgling Primal, depending on where they are struck,

like one who is just coming out of their Culling. They’d be susceptible to that for many years until they fully harness their eather. But if any Primal, fledging or not, is impaled by a bone, they would remain incapacitated until it was removed.”

Well, that was the first helpful piece of information he’d shared. But in the moments of silence that followed, I realized there was something else I wanted to know.

“Can you…?” Breathe in. My chest constricted. Hold. “Can you tell me how Nyktos is?”

“You’re not going to like this answer, but I can’t.” He tracked the short path I was making in front of the divan. “I wish I could, but I haven’t seen him since I took him to the cells.”

He was right. I didn’t like the answer. “Was he conscious then?” “No,” he said quietly.

Breathe in. I squeezed my eyes shut against the rising swell of panic and

helplessness. Hold. Caving to that wouldn’t help either of us. Breathe out. “Where are these cells?”

“Was that where you were trying to escape to?” I didn’t answer.

There was no need.

Attes let out a weary breath. “You would never make it there, even if you had managed to get free. I wouldn’t even be able to get you there and past the wards in place—at least undetected.”

“Where are these cells?” I repeated.

“They are in Dalos, but nowhere near the city,” he said. “They’re in the Carcers.”

Even though I figured Ash wasn’t being kept within reach, the disappointment still hit me hard. “The Carcers?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“There’s a mountain range south of the City of the Gods, second only to Mount Lotho,” he said, speaking about Embris’s—the Primal of Wisdom, Loyalty, and Duty—Court. “Those are the Carcers.”

My lower lip stung as I pressed it against my upper one. “What…what are the Carcers like?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Stopping, I faced him. “I want to know.”

Something akin to respect flickered across his face. “What are mortal prisons like?”

“Terrible.”

“Imagine that, but much, much worse,” he said, and a chill hit my spine. “I believe you would only find a more forbidding locale in the Abyss.”

Gods.

The weight in my chest increased as if an unseen hand pressed upon it. He won’t be there long, I reminded myself. He won’t. I looked over at Attes, thinking about my key. “If I could get out of this cage—”

“If you were able to escape this cage, I’d take you.” Eather pulsed in his eyes. “I’d get you out of here and take you someplace safe.”

I wasn’t sure if I could trust that. “But you couldn’t take me to Nyktos, right?”

His gaze searched mine. “I wouldn’t even risk it, knowing the wards wouldn’t fail.”

“Because you’d be punished?”

“I’m not worried about me,” he replied. “I’d be more worried about what Kolis would do to you or Nyktos.”

“Right,” I murmured. There was no point in gaining Attes’s help in my escape. I was also worried about what Kolis would do in retaliation once he realized I’d left in an attempt to free Ash.

Kolis hadn’t even asked why I’d tried before. He hadn’t been surprised. I imagined it was because Sotoria had attempted to escape so many times—as he’d alluded to.

“If you’re not here to help Nyktos, then why are you here?” I asked. “To assuage your guilt?”

“My conscience is long past that.”

“Then what?” I demanded. “To tell me you’re secretly loyal to Nyktos, despite your actions?”

“I’m loyal only to the true Primal of Life.” His head cocked to the side. “That was Eythos, and now it is you. Yes, you only have two Primal embers,” he added quickly, “but that still makes you, for all intents and purposes, the

true Primal of Life, as long as those embers remain inside you.”

The embers warmed in response, and I decided to ignore it. “You have a real fucked-up, unhelpful way of showing your loyalty.”

He huffed out a laugh. “You do wonders for one’s self-worth, you know that?”

“Well, what I’m about to say won’t help in that department. I think you’re a fool.” Anger thinned my voice. “I think all of you Primals are fools if you blindly serve another based on some embers or stolen titles.”

“Blindly serve?” He chuckled under his breath. “Sera—may I call you that?”

“No.”

A wider smile appeared, hinting at a dimple. “Only those destined for war serve a King or Queen simply because they carry embers or claim themselves a ruler. I would know.” He paused. “Seraphena.”

My nose scrunched. “That sounded very philosophical and nice, and I bet it made you feel clever, but in reality, you said nothing.”

“See this scar?” He pressed a forefinger to the shallow slice on his cheek. “Kolis put it there. Do you want to know why?”

Based on what little Ash had been able to tell me about Attes, and what I’d picked up on, I thought I’d be better off not knowing. That would make me a coward, though, so I nodded.

“Eythos wasn’t the only one who paid the price for Kolis losing Sotoria. The cost for Eythos was Mycella’s life.” Wisps of eather stirred violently in Attes’s irises. “But many others were caught in that rise of violence—friends, parents, lovers, favored draken.” His lips thinned, and his features tightened

with the kind of pain that never really went away. The word he spoke next was low, sounding as if it came from the depths of his soul. “Children.”

Oh, gods. A tremor went through me.

“When I tried to stop him… This?” He gestured to the scar once more. “This is what a bone of an Ancient wielded by a Primal of Death can do.”

I’d suspected something like that had happened. The loss of a lover or even a Consort. But… I had a feeling what Kolis took from Attes had been a part of him. “I didn’t know.”

“How could you?” he asked. “Our losses are our stories to share. Nyktos, being born of that kind of loss, would’ve respected that.”

My heart twisted as my gaze tracked over the scar. The ones I couldn’t see were likely far deeper. Godsdamn, my heart hurt. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” He closed his eyes. “Is that a good enough reason for you?” Clearing my throat, I blinked back tears. “Yes.”

The eather in his eyes had slowed when he reopened them. “I’ve never

stood with Kolis. Not truly.”

“Then I have a question for you.” Anger returned to my voice. “Has it never occurred to you to share this with Nyktos?”

“Why would I do that?” he countered. “I’ve never known where Nyktos really stands when it comes to Kolis.”

My brows shot up. “Are you kidding? He hates—”

“Hating someone doesn’t mean you will cease serving them, especially if doing so benefits you,” he cut in. “Confiding in him without knowing his true thoughts and intentions was a risk to my Court and everyone who relies on

me.”

Indignation rose. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “He never would’ve turned you over to Kolis.”

“You think that?”

I met his stare. “I know that.”

Attes laughed softly. “You have no idea what any of us has done or what we are capable of if backed into a corner. And that includes Nyktos.”

I started to argue, but thought about that one decent bone Ash claimed to have that belonged to me and only me. I knew he had far more goodness in him than that. What he did for the Chosen he could save, the young Pax, who he’d rescued from the streets, and countless others were proof of that. But

there was a cool ruthlessness to Ash. I’d seen it.

“There used to be a time when we trusted one another,” Attes said, his

voice taking on a distant quality. “When we Primals worked together for the betterment of Iliseeum and the mortal realm. That time has long since passed. And while Nyktos’s dislike of Kolis was clear to anyone who remotely paid attention, he was still loyal when it came down to it.”

“He did what he could to make a stand against Kolis,” I hissed. “But he had no choice but to serve him.”

“Exactly.” Attes threw up his hands in frustration. “None of us has had much of a choice, Seraphena.”

I looked away. His reasons for not confiding in Ash were valid…and yet not good enough for me. “So, what’s different now?”

“You,” he said. My fingers pressed into my arms. “You are the reason things are different now.”

“Because of the embers?”

“Because within you resides the only one who can kill Kolis. The one who can end this. And everything must be done to protect her.”

Tension poured into my body, causing the embers to hum. I shouldn’t be surprised to hear concern for literally anything but me. Usually, it was my duty or the embers. It was never me.

Until Ash.

A sharp slice of pain hit my chest, but I breathed through it, focusing on what Attes had said. Or rather what he hadn’t. “You mean I am the only one who can stop Kolis.”

“No, Seraphena,” he said, his tone heavy. “I do not.”

My body flashed cold as I stared at Attes. “What are you saying?” “I’m saying that Eythos’s plan didn’t work as he intended. And, yeah, I

didn’t think it would work at all in the first place, but that is neither here nor there.” His shoulders rose with a heavy breath. “Let me ask you something. Are you and Sotoria one and the same?”

A great sense of foreboding seized me. “Why are you asking that?” “Because I know.” His voice dropped. “I know you’re not her. Not

really.”

My heart lurched as his features blurred in a hazy fog of disbelief. “There’s an uncanny resemblance between you and Sotoria. So much so

that I don’t know how Kolis didn’t see it immediately. I don’t think he could let himself,” he continued, almost cautiously, his words low and measured. “But if you were Sotoria reborn, you would look just like her. You don’t. And you would not have been able to speak as her like you did.”

A wave of shock swept through me as my arms uncrossed, falling to my sides. Attes was possibly the first person to say that and sound like he believed it. I couldn’t even say for sure if Ash truly accepted I wasn’t Sotoria. I didn’t think it mattered because I was always Sera to him.

But I thought of what Ash had said about the Primal Keella during the coronation. Keella could follow the souls of those she captured who were reborn. Ash had not believed that Sotoria was reborn—no, that wasn’t what he had said exactly. He’d only said that he hadn’t been sure if Keella could follow Sotoria’s soul because her return hadn’t been a rebirth.

“You know what I’m saying is true. You don’t want to confirm it. I get it. You know that Kolis believing you are Sotoria is the only thing keeping you alive, and the embers of the Primal of Life safe. That’s smart.” Attes crossed the cage. “But there is no point in lying to me, Seraphena. I know Eythos’s plan did not work as he intended.”

I stood rigidly, my thoughts racing. Even knowing what had caused Attes’s scar, wariness still invaded all my senses. I shifted from foot to foot, glancing at the closed doors. I knew I had to make a choice. Trust Attes, or not. If I did and was wrong, I would die, and Kolis would have the embers. But I didn’t… I didn’t think he was here spying on Kolis’s behalf. That just didn’t make sense when he’d apparently covered for me and stopped Kolis when he attempted to take the embers.

I took a deep breath, knowing I wasn’t risking only my life. “Is there a difference between rebirth and being reborn?”

“The phrases are often used interchangeably, along with reincarnation, but a rebirth usually involves the souls of those who have not truly lived,” he said, referencing the babes Ash had spoken of. “Those who are reincarnated

may have memories or even dreams of who they once were, and that’s as rare as the act itself, and is usually reserved for viktors.”

“And being reborn is like starting over,” I murmured. “Having no memory of who you once were.” I glanced up at him. “So, having a soul placed alongside another is…?”

“I have no clue,” he admitted with a biting laugh. “It’s not supposed to happen. But it could be the result of what Eythos tried to do—something impossible. Or the Arae intervened.”

I thought back to what Attes had said about the Fates. “But you said the Arae ensured Eythos’s silence, as well as yours, as a way to balance what Eythos did.”

“Yes. But I never said it was the only thing they did,” he countered. “I don’t know why they did this. Then again, one of them put the idea of taking embers from another in Kolis’s head to begin with, and who really knows why anyone would share that knowledge?”

He had a point there. Delfai, the God of Divination Ash and I had spoken to, had said the same.

I shook my head. “What is the point of this? Sotoria’s soul is in me. Does that not make me her for all intents and purposes?”

“A soul is nothing like embers, Seraphena. Two should never be in one.” A great sense of unease rose. “And what happens if there are?”

“It means that Sotoria’s soul is…”

I watched him look away as he shoved a hand through his hair. “She’s trapped in me?” I asked.

“Basically.”

I closed my eyes as a shudder rocked me. Trapped. I thought I knew what that felt like, and I did. But I couldn’t imagine what it must be like for

Sotoria.

“That bothers you.”

Opening my eyes, I found Attes’s gaze on me. “Of course, it does. I can’t even let myself really think about it without freaking out,” I admitted. “I don’t want that for her.”

“Neither do I.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “And it also means that when you die, Sotoria’s soul dies with you.”

“Well, I figured that, but wouldn’t that be the case if her soul were simply reborn or whatever, too?”

“If Sotoria’s soul was reborn, you would be her. She would be you. And when you died, your soul would move on. But that is not what happened here. Her soul is in you, so when you leave the mortal coil, she will be trapped in your body until her soul is destroyed, and then she will continue in this…state. Unable to move on. Unable to live or die.” His eyes closed. “She would just be.”

My lips parted in horror. I could practically hear the wailing often heard in the Dark Elms. “She would be like a spirit?”

“Worse. She would become lost.” He came forward again. “Does anyone else know this?”

“No.”

“Not even Nyktos?”

“I…I don’t think so. He’s always made a point of telling me that I am Seraphena, but how would he have any way of knowing?”

“He would if he looked,” Attes said. “He is, after all, a Primal of Death, retaining the abilities lost to Kolis. He can see souls, but I’m not even sure he would understand what he saw if he got the impression of two souls.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Had Ash looked? I didn’t know. “But Kolis said he held on to my soul, keeping it inside me until he took me to the Triton Isles. Wouldn’t he have felt two?”

“I’m surprised he could even do that. So, it’s doubtful he knew exactly what he held. He could’ve grabbed her soul, which kept you alive. It’s anyone’s guess. Either way, do you understand what all of this means?”

My earlier unease multiplied, forming knots in my chest. “Based on your tone? Apparently, not.”

“Sotoria’s soul is in you, but you’re not her.” Attes’s gaze met mine. “And even if Kolis never realizes that, it means you’re not the weapon Eythos believed he created.”