“No,” Penellaphe agreed softly. “There is not.”
“Only those present when you brought her back know you Ascended Bele.” Nyktos looked at me. “Neither Hanan nor any other Primal knows the full extent of what my father did when he placed the embers of life in the Mierel bloodline.”
A whoosh went through my stomach at the reminder of the even bigger shock and blow that had been dealt. I didn’t know how to come to terms with learning that I’d lived countless lives that I couldn’t remember. That I had been Sotoria, the object of Kolis’s love—his obsession—and the very thing that had started all of this.
I’d thought the stories of the mortal girl who’d been so frightened upon seeing a being from Iliseeum that she had fallen from the Cliffs of Sorrow were just some bizarre legend. But she’d been real. And Kolis had been the one who’d scared her so badly.
How could I be her? I ran from no one and nothing—well, except serpents. But I was a fighter. A—
“You are a warrior, Seraphena,” Holland had said. “You always have been. Just like she learned to become.”
Gods.
I pressed my fingers into my temple. I knew Eythos and Keella, the Primal of Rebirth, had done what they believed best. They’d captured Sotoria’s soul before it passed to the Vale, preventing Kolis from bringing her back to life. Their actions had thus started a cycle of rebirth that had ended with my birth. But it felt like another violation. Another choice stripped away from her. Not me. We might have the same soul, but I wasn’t her. I was…
You are just a vessel that would be empty if not for the ember of life you carry within you.
Nyktos’s words had been harsh when he’d spoken them, but they were the truth. From birth, I had been nothing more than a blank canvas primed to become whatever the Primal of Death desired, or to be used in whatever manner my mother saw fit.
I sat on the edge of the dais, fighting the pressure as it threatened to return to my chest. “I saw Kolis not that long ago.”
Nyktos’s head jerked toward me.
I cleared my throat, unable to remember if I had told him this or not. “I was in the audience when Kolis arrived at the Sun Temple for the Rite. I was in the back and had my face covered, but I swear he looked directly at me.” I forced a swallow. “Do I look like her? Like Sotoria?”
Penellaphe’s hand went to the collar of her taupe gown. “If Kolis had seen you and you’d looked like Sotoria, he would’ve taken you right then.”
The ragged breath I exhaled left a misty cloud behind as a sudden bone-deep chill entered the chamber. My gaze shot to Nyktos.
His skin had thinned, and deep, dark shadows blossomed beneath his flesh, reminding me of how he’d appeared in his true form. His skin had been a kaleidoscope of midnight and moonlight, his wings much like a draken’s but made of a solid mass of eather—power.
He looked like he was about to go full Primal again. “Sotoria didn’t belong to him then, and Seraphena doesn’t belong to him now.”
Seraphena.
I could count on one hand how many people called me by my full name, and none of them spoke it like he did. As if it were a prayer and a reckoning.
“I don’t know what Sotoria originally looked like,” Holland said after a few moments. “I didn’t follow her threads of fate until after Eythos had come to ask what—if anything—could be done about his brother’s betrayal. All that I do know is that she didn’t appear the same with each rebirth. But it’s possible that Kolis sensed traces of eather in you and believed you were a child of a mortal and a god—a godling or a god entering their Culling.”
I nodded slowly, forcing my thoughts past the whole Sotoria thing. I had to. All of that was just too much. “But what I did has already drawn their attention. It’s not like we can pretend it hasn’t happened.”
“I know,” Nyktos remarked coolly. “I expect I will have numerous unwanted visitors.”
“Being his Consort will offer you some level of protection,” Penellaphe said, looking at Nyktos. “Until then, any Primal could make a move against her. Even a god. And it would be unlikely you’d have the other Primals’ support if you retaliated. The politics of our Courts?” Penellaphe sent me a sympathetic grimace. “They are rather archaic.”
That was one way to describe them. Cutthroat was another.
“But a coronation won’t be without its risks,” Penellaphe added. “Most of the gods and Primals from all nine Courts, including yours, will show for the ceremony. They should follow the customs, which prohibit…conflict at such events. But as you know, many like to push that line.”
“Do I ever…” Nyktos muttered.
The goddess winced. “Kolis doesn’t make a habit of joining such festivities, but…”
“He knows something is here. He already sent his dakkais and draken, as I’m sure you know.” Nyktos pinned Holland with a hard stare, and the Arae arched a dark brow. “Kolis hasn’t shown in the Shadowlands since he betrayed my father, but that doesn’t mean he can’t. I assume that if you know whether he can or cannot enter the Shadowlands,” he said to Holland, “it’s something you won’t be able to answer.”
“Unfortunately, you would be correct,” Holland confirmed, and I wondered if knowing and not being able to say anything was more frustrating than having no knowledge at all.
Probably not, considering how annoyed I was.
Despite the temperature of the room returning to normal, a chill broke out across my skin as I thought of what could come. “What will happen if Kolis enters the Shadowlands?”
“Kolis can be unpredictable, but he’s no fool,” Nyktos said. “If he can enter the Shadowlands and comes to the coronation, he won’t try something in front of the other Primals and gods. He believes he’s the fair and rightful King of Gods, and he likes to keep up the façade, even though the Primals know better.”
“But if he—” I started.
“I won’t let him lay a finger on you,” Nyktos swore, his eyes flashing.
My heart tripped. While that was a nice vow for him to make, I knew it stemmed from the knowledge that I carried the embers of life in me. And because Nyktos was decent. Protective. Good. “Thanks, but I’m not worried about what will happen to me.”
Nyktos’s jaw hardened. “Of course, not.”
I ignored that. “What will Kolis do if he realizes you’re shielding someone who carries the embers of life?” I demanded. “Or discovers that I carry Sotoria’s soul? What will he do to the Shadowlands? To those living here? I want to know what my presence will cost you.”
“Your presence will cost me nothing.” Shadows deepened once more beneath Nyktos’s flesh.
“Bullshit,” I said, and the silver of his irises shifted to iron. “I don’t need to be protected from the truth. It’s not like I’ll be so frightened by it that I’ll run off a nearby cliff.”
Holland sighed.
“That’s good to know,” Nyktos replied dryly. “But I am more concerned about you running in a very opposite direction.”
I lifted my chin. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Bullshit,” he parroted, and my eyes narrowed. He was right. I absolutely knew what he meant.
Whatever.
“Kolis already knows that there is something here with the power to create life,” Penellaphe interjected, ignoring the furious glare Nyktos sent her. “But as Nyktos said, Kolis is no fool. He sent the dakkais as a warning. A way of showing Nyktos that he is very much aware.”