Neither of us spoke as we left Cauldra Manor, passing guards who hastily bowed but kept a healthy distance. I’d wanted to say goodbye to Kayleigh but knew it wouldn’t be wise for us to linger.
Not when violent, frenetic eather still leaked into the air around Ash.
And I didn’t think I had it in me to hold an appropriate conversation. My mind was too focused on what was to come.
What could no longer be denied.
It was the strangest damn thing as we made our way down the rocky hill, feeling the sun’s warmth on my face. The devastation of all the what-ifs that would not happen. The knowledge that the end was truly coming this time. And the utter collapse of hope.
It was all rather…freeing.
A calmness settled over me.
The ever-present pressure on my chest was still there, but it didn’t squeeze as tightly as it had. And maybe it was because I’d always expected to die. Maybe it was because the soul inside me had also lived through many deaths.
After all, death had been my constant companion, an old friend that I always knew, deep down, would visit one day.
I looked at Ash. He stared straight ahead, the muscle in his jaw ticking with each step. We’d just reached the pines when I said, “Stop.”
“We need to return to the Shadowlands,” he bit out.
“We need to talk.”
“I need to think.”
The breath I took was shaky as I followed him into the thick stand of pines. “You have to do it.”
Ash halted. “There is nothing I have to do.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” I stopped a few feet from him, understanding dawning. “You…you knew how to remove the embers from me this whole time, didn’t you?”
His shoulders went rigid.
“Gods,” I whispered hoarsely. Because I knew—I knew—I was right.
“I didn’t know for sure. It’s not like there has ever been another like you—a mortal with Primal embers in them.” His head bowed. “But I figured that draining you completely was a possibility.”
He could’ve done that at any time. Taken the embers from me. He could’ve Ascended. Stopped Kolis. Stopped Veses. But he hadn’t.
Because he knew that it would kill me.
I let my head fall back as I dragged in deep, stinging breaths.
“But I knew that wasn’t how Kolis took the embers,” Ash gritted out. “I knew there had been another way.”
But there wasn’t.
Blinking the dampness from my eyes, I lowered my head. “We came here to learn how to transfer the embers, and now we know.”
He said nothing, but the air thinned and chilled. A few needles fell from the pines’ branches, drifting to the ground.
My heart began to pound as my throat tightened. “There is no other option. We can’t allow someone else to learn about the embers and take them.”
Slowly, he faced me, his features stark. “There has to be another way. Maybe the Star—”
“How would we retrieve it? Do you know where Kolis keeps it? Know anyone who would be willing to share that little piece of information with us? No. And even if we could find the Star, you heard what Delfai said. It’s too late. The embers have merged with me. Removing them will kill me either way, and I—I don’t want to die.”
“Glad to hear that you finally feel that way.”
I ignored that. “I want a future. I want to live. I want to experience a life where I have control of my future. I want us,” I whispered. “But I need a future where we defeat Kolis and the Rot goes away. Where those in Iliseeum and in the mortal realm are safe. That’s what’s important. The only thing that matters.”
“No, it is not the only damn thing that matters, Sera.” His eyes flashed. “You. Not the godsdamn embers. Not the fucking realms. You matter.”
My breath snagged as I closed my eyes against the wealth of emotion that rose. I…I did matter. Me. But this wasn’t about only me. I knew that. So did he. “There’s no other way.” A tremor went through me as I opened my eyes. “I understand that. And it’s not your fault.”
He looked away, swallowing. “Stop—”
“It’s not,” I insisted. “This isn’t right or fair, but you know what you have to do, Ash.”
“Do not,” he snarled, head snapping back to mine. He took a short, measured step toward me and then shadowstepped, appearing directly in front of me. “Do not call me that when you speak of me ending your life so casually.”
Pressure seized my chest as a knot lodged in my throat—a mix of emotions too raw for me to fully understand. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” A ragged laugh left him. “Fates, you are sorry. I can taste it. Vanilla but tangy.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You feel sympathy—anguish—for me.”
I sucked in a short breath, pressing my right palm to my heart. Sympathy. Anguish. That and bone-deep resolution were what I felt. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Neither have you.”
“How the fuck can you even say that?” Ash roared, loud enough that even with the distance we’d traveled, it was still likely someone heard. I doubted anyone would dare to venture into the pines, though. “Because there was another option. I could’ve saved you.”
“This isn’t on you.” Reaching up, I clasped his cool cheeks. He started to pull away, but I held on as the embers hummed. Essence shattered his eyes—anger and agony, too. I drew in a short breath and nearly choked on the scent of pine. “Even if you had your kardia, Ash, there was no guarantee you’d love me—”
“Yes, there is.” His eyes were wide and wild as he caught my wrists. “I would’ve loved you if I could have. There would’ve been no stopping me.”
A jolt ran through me. His declaration was as powerful as one of love, and it shook me. Rattled me until the embers began to hum and throb, until I tasted the eather gathering in the back of my throat. The corners of my eyes started to brighten.
“Kiss me,” I whispered.
There was no hesitation.
Ash drew me to him, lifting me onto the tips of my toes as his mouth lowered to mine. We both shuddered at the touch of our lips. The kiss was gentle and tentative, full of reverence and sorrow. Tears rushed my tightly closed eyes. A soul-torn groan rumbled from Ash’s chest and through mine.
The embers continued to hum.
My heart ached.
Ash’s arms swept around me, hands fisting my braid, my hip. He pulled me even closer to him, our bodies flush. His head tilted, the kiss deepening with a sweep of his tongue against mine, a clash of teeth against fangs. And from all the anguish, desperation was born, one of need and want, and it was all-consuming.
There was no hesitation when our mouths parted and our gazes collided. There were no words as his lips returned to mine and we reached for each other, buttons being opened, pants and undergarments shoved down. Our lips didn’t part as he lowered me to the pine-needled ground and took me with one deep stroke of his hips.
His mouth captured my cry of pleasure, and he answered with a heated growl. With my pants gathered just below my knees, I couldn’t lift my legs or widen them. The restricted movement made every thrust tight and nerve-wrackingly intense as I gripped his arms.
That was all I could do—hold on as he moved in and out, going as deep as he could, rushing, driving me to the blade-thin edge of pleasure and pain.
He seated himself deeply within me, lifting his mouth from mine as he clasped my cheek, stilling. “I wish…” he whispered hoarsely, dragging his fingers across the freckles sweeping over my cheek. “I wish I’d never had my kardia removed.”