You’re not the weapon…

I staggered back, bumping into the divan. Attes couldn’t be insinuating what I thought he was. “I’m still able to fulfill my duty.”

“Maybe,” Attes replied, eather pulsing in his stare. “But you’re not her, and we have no way of knowing if that matters. If I had to go off my gut

feeling? It does. Which means you won’t be able to kill him.”

I sank onto the plush divan, my head shaking in fierce denial. Attes’s words pelted me like stones thrown against a fortress of adamant refusal instead of providing respite.

I felt no solace.

And shouldn’t there be? I didn’t want to do what it would take to fulfill my destiny. I should be celebrating this news, but there was no relief.

How could there be when it meant I’d never been able to save my

kingdom? Everything I’d suffered and given up, all the sacrifices I’d made throughout my life for a kingdom that didn’t even know me. Not to mention the choices my family faced. They were all for nothing. All those years of grueling training and pushing my body and mind to the brink of collapse meant nothing. There’d been no need for me to learn what it felt like to be so godsdamn empty, what it took to be so, and what it stole.

Accepting that truth was unbearable, intolerable. It meant my life, my entire existence, had been a lie.

No.

I couldn’t accept that I wouldn’t be able to stop Kolis if I failed to escape.

That he would survive, continuing to hurt Ash and others. There would be more favorites, and Sotoria…good gods, she would be trapped once I died. That was inevitable. I would not allow others to die to keep me alive.

No.

Attes’s gut instinct had to be wrong. Wouldn’t the Fates have known this? Holland? And if so, why had he spent so many years training me? Why did it matter if Kolis believed the one thrusting a blade through his heart was the

one he loved? Perhaps it didn’t.

Because there was no way that everything I had given up—everything

Eythos and Kolis caused—was for nothing. That it was all fucking pointless. “You have to be wrong.” My shoulders squared. “You have to be.”

“I hope I am.” The Primal’s gaze was now focused somewhere above me, his fingers curled at the base of his throat.

“Nothing has changed,” I told him.

“Except if you attempt to kill him, and it doesn’t work?” His chin lowered. “What do you think he will do to you?”

“What he’s already done,” I said. “I stabbed him earlier. I missed his heart by an inch, and I’m still alive.”

Attes blinked.

“He was angry,” I amended, flattening my palms against my knees. “But he didn’t kill me. Obviously.”

The Primal stared at me for several moments. “You managed to stab him?”

“Yeah.”

“With what kind of weapon?”

“Not one made of the bones of an Ancient,” I muttered. “Shadowstone.” His eyes widened. “And that pierced his skin?”

I nodded. “He healed up pretty quickly.”

“Shit,” he whispered, surprise evident in his tone. “He’s weaker than I thought. Even with the embers he stole long since faded, he’s still the oldest Primal. Shadowstone shouldn’t have pierced his skin.”

“Well, that’s a good thing, right?”

“It’s an interesting thing,” he corrected. “If he hadn’t healed immediately,

that would’ve been a good thing.” I started to frown.

“It just means the playing field may have been leveled a little,” he added. “But just because he didn’t end up killing you before, doesn’t mean he won’t do it later. And if you die? And her soul is lost—”

“Yes, I get it. Her soul is the most important thing,” I snapped. “She dies, everything is lost.”

Attes’s head tilted. A moment passed. “You matter, too.”

A bitter laugh left me, even as my cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “You don’t need to lie.”

“I’m not.”

Irritation rose. I knew better, which left me even more frustrated. I should be used to that by now. But also? Her soul was important. “So, what are you saying? I shouldn’t attempt to kill him?”

“I don’t think it’s worth the risk,” he shared.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” I demanded. “Nothing?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. Kolis doesn’t know the truth, and that means you’re still his weakness. You can use that to our benefit.”

“Our benefit?” Tension returned as I curled my fingers into my gown. “Funny choice of words.”

Attes ignored that. “Nyktos needs to be freed as soon as possible if there is any hope of preventing the kind of war Kolis spoke of,” he warned. “And we’re already racing toward it. I can sense it.” His eyes searched mine. “You can change that, at least.”

“I know.” I straightened my fingers. “I have a plan.” “You do?” His brows lifted. “Already?”

“Yeah.” I frowned. “Why does that surprise you?”

“You were only just taken.” His eyes searched mine. “No one would’ve faulted you if you weren’t of clear enough mind yet to develop a plan.”

“Yeah, well, this isn’t the first time I’ve found myself in a situation that doesn’t allow for a whole lot of time to break down.”

He stared. “What kind of life have you lived, Seraphena?”

I laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. Not when I felt like my body was caving in on itself. “Then what? I gain Nyktos’s freedom, and what happens next? You think Nyktos will simply return to the Shadowlands and pretend like nothing happened?”

“If he’s wise, he will.” His gaze held mine. “And you know that’s true.”

My heart skipped a beat. It was. I’d prefer if Ash did exactly that, but he wouldn’t. “He cares for me,” I said quietly. “He feels responsible for me. He won’t do that.”

“I think he feels you are more than a responsibility,” he quipped with a smile that caused a dimple to wink to life.

The breath I took scorched my lungs. It hurt because I’d spoken the truth. Ash did feel responsible for me. He cared for me. He was fond of me. But he could not feel what Attes was clearly suggesting.

It took a lot for me to breathe past the burn and focus beyond it, but I did.

Because I had to. “Then how will this prevent a war?”

“I didn’t say you were preventing a war,” Attes corrected softly. “I said you would be preventing the kind of war Kolis spoke of. There is a difference. While I know Nyktos is capable of many terrifying things if pushed, it pales in comparison to what Kolis will do. With Nyktos free, he’ll be able to protect his people and gather support.”

“Is there support to be gained?” “There can be.”

My hands fell to the cushion. “That’s not good enough.”

“Look, news of what Kolis has done is spreading. It will make others uncomfortable, even if Kolis thinks it won’t stir up too much unrest,” he said, and I immediately thought about Phanos’s response upon seeing me. “But

Kolis likes to forget that Nyktos comes in as a close second in the top three Primals that no one wants to piss off.”

“Let me guess. You’re number three?” I remarked dryly.

“You’re very clever.” That dimple was back.

And I was unimpressed. “Has anyone told you that you’re so very stab- worthy?”

A low chuckle radiated from him. “I’ve been told that a time or a thousand.”

I snorted. “Figured.” Easing my death grip, I stood. “What about you and your support? Will you back—?” I stopped myself, looking at the Primal. I remembered what he’d said. Attes claimed only to be loyal to the true Primal of Life.

And as he’d said, for all intents and purposes, that was me.

I inhaled deeply, or at least thought I did, but the breath filling my lungs felt disappointingly shallow. My chest constricted with anxiety like a fist squeezing my heart with every beat. “You will back Nyktos on whatever he chooses and aid him in gaining allies,” I began, my voice trembling slightly. Making demands such as these wasn’t something I was accustomed to. “He will have your full support and that of your Court.”

Attes’s head tilted. “Is that an order?”

My heart raced. At the end of the day, I was still just a mortal ordering a Primal to do my bidding. But the embers in me hummed intensely. I lifted my chin, swallowing. “It is, even if you find yourself standing opposite your brother.”

Wisps of eather whipped through his eyes and lit up the veins beneath the skin of his cheeks. He angled his body toward me.

“You will swear it,” I added, knowing a Primal could not break a promise once made.

Energy ramped up, charging the air. For a moment, I thought I might’ve overstepped a smidgen.

Or a lot.

Probably a lot.

“Very clever,” Attes murmured, then stepped forward and lowered

himself onto one knee. Placing one hand over his heart, he bowed his head. “With my sword and my life.” Eather-laced eyes lifted to mine. “I swear to you, the One who is born of Blood and Ash, the Light and the Fire, and the Brightest Moon, to honor your command.”

My title…the one Ash had bestowed upon me. I inhaled sharply as another charge of energy rippled through the air, skating down my spine. I could feel it. I felt the power in commanding such an oath. It caused the nape of my neck to prickle, and the embers to thrum fiercer. His words carried the strength of an unbreakable oath etched into his bones and mine—into the very soil of the realm itself.

And that sudden power? It was as unnerving as it was emboldening. It was also a little awesome.

Attes waited, and I nodded for him to rise, only because I had no idea what I was supposed to respond with and had seen my mother and King Ernald do something similar.

As Attes rose, I cleared my mind and tried to focus. “What will be done about Sotoria’s soul?”

“I’ve been searching for a way to safeguard it, and I will continue to do so.” There was no trace of humor or charm to be found, and when he spoke again, he did so somberly. “I know what it will take for you to gain Kolis’s

trust and garner Nyktos’s freedom. It’s the same thing you’ll have to do to stay alive.”

Growing uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, I shifted from one foot to the other.

“And I…” A muscle ticked in his temple. “I’m sorry.”

I looked away, my aching jaw tight. Gods, he sounded as if he meant it, and I didn’t know what to do with that when I preferred he not know what it would take.

“I need to leave,” he said, clearing his throat, but a thickness lingered. “Staying so long without being discovered is luck I should not continue to push.”

Nodding, I faced him as something I’d wondered about earlier resurfaced. “Can I ask you something first?”

“Of course.”

“Does Sotoria’s name mean anything in the language of the Ancients and Primals? I know that so’ means my,” I explained when the skin at the corners of his eyes creased. “And I just thought that perhaps her name meant something. Like it’s two words joined together.”

“Like Kolis’?” he asked. “Yes.”

“It does. Or did.” He exhaled heavily, dragging his thumb over the base of

his throat. “It’s from the oldest of our language. Toria had a few meanings. One meant garden. Another could be loosely translated into pretty flower.”

He smiled then, but no dimple appeared, and I couldn’t help but think of what

Sotoria had been doing when she died. She’d been picking flowers. “But a more exact translation is poppy.”

“Like the mortal flower?” I thought of the ones that had started to grow again in the Shadowlands. “Or the silver ones?”

“I believe it once referenced the mortal flower, but it could’ve been describing either.”

My brows lifted. “So, Sotoria’s name could be translated into my pretty…” A strange shiver curled its way down my spine. “My pretty poppy?”

Attes nodded. “Or my pretty garden.” “Oh,” I whispered.

He studied me. “Does something about that translation bother you?”

Yes, but…

“No.” I shook my head, unsure where the feeling of unease had come from or why. “I do have another request for you.”

“Anything.”

I smiled wryly at that. “Find me a weapon made of the bones of the Ancients.”

His head tipped to the side. “Seraphena…”

“I am not going to take any unnecessary risks. I swear.” The purse of his lips said he doubted my oath.

“But if there comes a time when the only thing left is to take a risk? I want to have something that can kill him, or incapacitate him at the very

least,” I said, and could tell he knew what I meant. “It doesn’t hurt to try, does it?”

“No, I suppose not,” he said. “But you have to be careful with such a weapon. And I say that not because I think you cannot handle one,” he added when I opened my mouth. “You cannot touch the bone itself without causing pain. A hilt would need to be crafted, which isn’t a problem. What is an issue is where you would hide it on your person.”

Considering the transparency of my clothing, he had a point. “I can hide one here.”

He exhaled through his nose. “Do you think they won’t check for such a weapon, especially after your escape attempt? Especially one of a size that would be useful for what you intend?”

My jaw clenched. I hated all the logical points he made. “Okay.”

Attes turned to the bars, then stopped. “Do you feel her now?” His throat worked as his gaze found mine. “Sotoria’s soul, I mean.”

His question was strange to me, but I lifted a hand to my chest. I didn’t hear her as I had previously, but there was a flicker of something that wasn’t an ember. An awareness of someone there, watching and listening. “Yes.”

Emotion flickered across his face, too fast for me to determine what it was or even be sure I’d seen anything.

“Then I hope she hears this,” Attes said, swallowing once more. “I will save you this time.”

I was restless after Attes turned himself back into a hawk and flew off, which was as bizarre as it sounds. Left to nothing but my thoughts, I did what I normally did.

I trained.

Finding nothing to tie my hair back with, I braided the length, then gently knotted the ends, knowing I’d likely regret it later. Calling on as much memory as I could recall, I imagined myself sparring with an invisible partner and went through the motions Holland had taught me.

As I moved from jabbing with an imaginary dagger to shadowboxing, my mind wandered instead of emptying.

Attes.

Picturing his face, I swung my closed fist into the air above me and only felt a little bad.

Obviously, I had a hard time trusting him, but that oath? Either I or the embers had felt it. He couldn’t break it. And how he spoke about his scar? The pain evident in his voice and on his face was too real, as was the thread of agony in his words when he vowed to save Sotoria this time.

I dipped, moving as fast as I could in the gown. Something Attes had said finally occurred to me after he left. It was so damn obvious. But in my

defense? A lot had been—and still was—cycling through my mind.

Attes had mentioned how much I resembled Sotoria but knew I didn’t look exactly like her. Based on that, and what he’d said before he left, Attes had known her.

And, man, I had so many questions about that. But I realized something else once he was gone.

Sweat dotted my brow as I rose from a crouch and spun, swinging out with my arm. I repeated the move over and over as I thought about how Attes hadn’t mentioned Nyktos taking the embers. He probably figured it was something assumed and unnecessary to say.

You’re not the weapon…

My steps slowed and then came to a stop, my chest rising and falling from exertion. I rose from another crouch, my arms dropping to my sides. Holland had said that I was Sotoria. So had the goddess Penellaphe—or at least that

was how I’d interpreted what they said.

But what if Holland hadn’t known? I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead. It wasn’t like every Fate was all-knowing. Another could’ve

done something without Holland’s knowledge. Or he had been unable to tell

me without interfering.

But why did he train me? What was the point?

Unless Attes’s instincts were right, and Holland had actually trained me to keep Sotoria’s soul and the embers safe. Was it about that instead of killing

Kolis?

And if it was?

Letting my head fall back, I stared at the bars above. Gods, I sort of felt like a huge part of my identity had just been shattered, and it was so damn

frustrating.

I’d hated that part of myself, loathed what it had cost me. Yet I still didn’t feel relief. The resolve to stop Kolis hadn’t faded. No part of me attempted to latch on to it as an excuse not to try. And maybe…

Maybe that was because I didn’t know who I was without my duty.

Maybe it was because it was the one thing I could do before I died that would make a difference. And I just couldn’t let that go.

The thing was, whatever the reason, I couldn’t dwell on it. If I did, I would lose it.

Turning, I went into the bathing area and picked up a small towel. Using the pitcher of fresh water that had been left behind, I wiped the sweat from my forehead.

My pretty poppy.

A tremor skated over my body, sending shivers of unease cascading down my spine. What bothered me about that? It was the absolute least concerning thing Attes had shared.

Tossing the towel onto the vanity, I returned to the divan and removed the blanket this time, letting it fall to the floor. I plopped down and wiggled into the corner. Drawing my legs up, I tucked them under my gown.

My gaze traveled over the bars, landing on the glittering center of the cage ceiling. With the chamber lights turned down, I could see it clearer. I

squinted, realizing the source of the fractured light I’d noticed before. It was a diamond. Or maybe a cluster of them?

I rolled my eyes.

I sat there for a while in silence, my thoughts continuing to jump from

one thing to the next. Like so many times before, my mind latched on to one of the most random things.

I suddenly thought about the kiyou wolf I’d seen in the Dark Elms as a child.

I’d been collecting rocks for some bizarre reason I’d long since forgotten when I spotted the wolf. Its fur had been so white it could’ve been silver, and I’d always been surprised that it hadn’t immediately run off or attacked, especially since the kiyou were notoriously averse to mortals. The only other one I’d been close to was the injured wolf.

I was sure I knew why now.

When Ash and I had been at the pool beneath the House of Haides, he’d admitted to checking in on me in the past. I realized now that it had been him all those years ago. There wasn’t a single part of me that doubted it.

Chest squeezing, I dropped my chin to my knees. Gods, I missed him, and I was so damn worried about him. What if my dream had given me some insight into his condition, and he was in stasis? That would heal his wounds, but he’d be completely vulnerable.

I needed to get him out of there.

Closing my eyes, I decided it was time to try my hand at being more reassuring. Instead of stressing myself out to the point where I wanted to either scream or throw myself face-first at the bars, I pictured Ash free. Of course, I skipped over exactly how I’d manage to free myself from the cage and Dalos and, well…everything else. I went right to the good stuff. Seeing Ash. Feeling his arms around me. Hearing his voice. For real. No dreams.

We wouldn’t have long together before Kolis came for us, but I would take the time to make Ash swear he wouldn’t blame himself for my death.

That once he Ascended and took care of Kolis, he’d find a way to restore his

kardia.

The back of my throat burned as I buried my face in my knees. I would make Ash promise to live—to really live. And that meant eventually opening

himself to learning what love felt like and being loved in return, as much as it

made me want to set fire to the entire realm.

Because I wasn’t that good of a person. I already hated the unknown individual who would one day have the honor of loving and being loved by Ash. I absolutely loathed them.

But I still wanted that for him.

I suppose love made you capable of that: wanting happiness for another, even if it meant them finding it with someone else.

When I opened my eyes again, it was to the sound of rushing water and the feel of cool, damp grass against the length of my body.

Immediately, I knew I was dreaming.

Besides the obvious fact that I wasn’t capable of shadowstepping myself free of somewhere deep within Dalos to the mortal realm, something was off.

Something that had nothing to do with there not being a stitch of clothing on me.

I wasn’t swimming.

In the last couple of dreams I remembered, I was always swimming while the wolf watched me.

Dark waters spilled off the cliffs of the Elysium Peaks. It was my lake, and like my dreams before, no stifling heat clung to the air, but it was different.

While the lake was always dark due to one of the biggest deposits of

shadowstone found in the mortal realm, there was no movement. The water was utterly still and smooth, like a black mirror, even where the waterfall poured from high above. My lake had never been like this in my dreams.

I looked down to where my fingers splayed against grass the color of midnight. I lifted my gaze, looking past sweeping elms full of onyx-hued leaves, and branches the color of shadowstone, to the sky that was neither completely night nor day. Vivid and intense stars cast radiant light down on the lake and me. I searched the sky, finding no sign of the moon.

It reminded me of the Shadowlands, but there were no lakes there. Not anymore.

My fingers curled around the blades of grass. I could feel the ground beneath me, cool and prickly. I felt the faint breeze drifting over my legs and glancing off my cheek. There was none of the fuzziness that clung to dreams, even when I swam. Everything was sharp and clear, from the stars above to

the rich scent of the damp soil.

This didn’t feel like a dream.

As I stared at the star-kissed sky, a humming warmth suddenly came alive in the center of my chest. My skin pimpled. Slowly, I became aware of heat against my back, someone behind me when there had been nothing there upon me opening my eyes.

I wasn’t alone.

A hand came over the flare of my hip, warm and heavy in a deliciously familiar way. My stomach started spinning. I breathed in deeply. A fresh, citrusy scent I’d recognize anywhere surrounded me.

My breath snagged as my entire body locked into place. I couldn’t move, too afraid that my mind was about to trick me.

A soft touch against the nape of my neck startled me. A silkier sensation followed. Lips brushed the curve of my shoulder, sending hot, tight shivers coursing down the length of my body.

“Liessa.”