Текст книги "A fire in the flash"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 37 страниц)

There was a whole lot of stuff there to process, starting with the fact that Kolis actually sounded as if he believed what he said: that he was creating life. And it seemed he truly cared about that life. There was also the idea that he thought of himself as the creator of these Ascended. But was he? He’d drained Jove, but Elias’s blood would ultimately Ascend him. However, what he said happened to those the Ascended fed upon and killed prompted my next question.

“How is an Ascended different than what you spoke of before? The Craven.”

“Well, one is still alive, and the other is not. They are like the Gryms,” he explained, and an image rose of the waxy-skinned once-mortals who had summoned a god and then offered their eternal lives in exchange for whatever they believed they needed so badly. “But one whose bite spreads a very different kind of toxin. An infection of sorts that will turn whomever they bite or scratch into the undead—if they survive the attack.”

My mouth dropped open. “That’s a pretty big drawback.”

“Yes, especially since those who are mortal—or more mortal than god—are susceptible to turning Craven.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Which means newly-turned Ascended are a danger to the Chosen.”

“If they are so dangerous, why was an Ascended left to feed on a Chosen?” I demanded.

Kolis’s eyes reverted to their cold, lifeless stare, sending a surge of alarm through me. “Well, because it’s not a danger we’re entirely unaccustomed to. What do you think happens if a god drains a mortal? Something similar. You could say it’s an even more virulent infection.”

I thought about the seamstress. Madis had left her place right before I found her dead. The problem was, she hadn’t stayed dead. And she also hadn’t looked like the one I’d seen here.

“And newly made Ascended are always under watch,” he continued in a tone that sounded like each word was chiseled out of stone. “However, a certain someone attempted to escape.”

Me.

He was totally talking about me.

“And those responsible for watching over the Ascended were drawn away,” he said. “Ironically, if they’d remained at their post, the Ascended wouldn’t have killed, and you still would’ve been captured. But they have been dealt with.”

I had a feeling being dealt with didn’t mean they’d simply been reprimanded. I should probably feel a little bad about that, but I couldn’t muster the energy when I still didn’t know how to process what had been done to Jove.

He wouldn’t die, but he hadn’t chosen to live as an Ascended either. It had been decided for him. Maybe he would’ve chosen to live no matter what, but he could’ve decided to die instead. I would never know. But what if he was one of those who couldn’t control his hunger? And were the Ascended good or bad? Somewhere in the middle?

My brows knitted as I thought of something. Ash could go longer than he probably should without feeding. Was it the same with these Ascended? “What…what if an Ascended chooses not to feed?”

“They will weaken over time, becoming akin to mortal once more.”

I felt a skipping motion in my chest. “So, in a way, this kind of Ascension can be undone?”

“No.” His head tilted as he frowned. “Being akin to mortal is not the same thing. If they take no blood, their bodies eventually give out. The process of that is…” His frown deepened. “Admittedly, quite disturbing.”

Clearly, it was something he’d seen before. “There have been Ascended who refused to feed?” I surmised, the ache increasing.

“There have.”

“Why?”

Deep grooves formed between his brows. “They were not grateful for the blessing bestowed upon them.”

I stared at him, somewhat dumbfounded.

He straightened, drawing his hand from the table. “What? It is clear you’re thinking something. I want to know.”

I really needed to learn how to control my facial features. “It’s just that… Well, I was thinking that maybe they weren’t grateful because they didn’t want to become something that could turn into an indiscriminate killer.”

He laughed under his breath. “All gods are capable of becoming thus, so’lis, and mortals are no different.” He sent me a long, knowing look. “And from what I know of your life this time in the mortal realm, you were no different.”

My shoulders stiffened at the truth of his words. He was right. I’d been no different.

I still wasn’t, which was kind of funny, considering the embers within me.

“Everything that is created or born has the potential to become an indiscriminate killer,” he tacked on.

I saw what he was trying to get at. “Okay.”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s not okay.”

“I said it was.”

“I may not always be able to tell when you lie, but most of the time I know,” he remarked, and I stiffened. “While I am not the Great Conspirator spoken of in the prophecy, I am a Deceiver, a teller of lies. I recognize many of yours. This is one of them.”

He was the only being who could be the Great Conspirator, and maybe he could sense my lies, but as long as he didn’t recognize the really important one…whatever. My head hurt. “All right, then,” I said, taking a breath. I could deal with a headache. “I see what you mean about everyone having the potential to be a killer, but—”

“There is no but. I am right.”

I took a deep breath. “Never mind, then.”

He stared at me, his head lowering. “No, continue.”

“There is no point in continuing if you will automatically dismiss what I’m saying before I even finish saying it.” I took a breath. “Gods were born knowing they would Ascend one day. They have their entire lives to prepare for it. The Chosen do not.”

“They don’t?” His brows rose. “They are given to the Temples at birth and raised as Chosen. They spend their entire lives preparing to serve in Iliseeum and to Ascend. The only difference is they do not Ascend into godhood.”

First off, that wasn’t the only difference. But not all of them were being Ascended. Some were being killed or turned.

But I could argue until I was blue in the face, and it wouldn’t change what Kolis believed, nor would it answer what I wanted to know.

“And you have to do this because of balance,” I said. “What exactly is this balance?”

“The balance is everything, so’lis. Without it, there is nothing.”

“I know.” I beat back my rising frustration. “You said that. But you haven’t—”

“The balance is everything,” he repeated. “And there is balance in everything. Or that is what the Fates say, at least. I tend to think their idea of balance is a bit…unbalanced.” Anger crept into his features. “Did you know the Primal of Death is expected to remain distant from anyone whose soul may one day pass before them for judgment?”

My eyes widened.

“Of course, you wouldn’t know that. The Primal of Death is not to have friends, confidants, or lovers among anyone who may need to be judged. The Arae believe that forming close bonds could ultimately skew judgment,” Kolis stated. “That means any being that is not a Primal or a draken.”

I hadn’t known that. Did that also play a role in why Ash kept a wall up between him and Rhain, Saion, and all the others? Why hadn’t he shared this with me? Then again, there hadn’t been much time for me to learn the more intricate details of his duties when I spent half the time I’d been with him attempting to keep myself from growing close to him. It reminded me of when I’d asked him about his armies and plans. He hadn’t keyed me in on any of it because, at that point, I hadn’t expressed any real interest in becoming his Consort. Regret surged through me, joining what was sure to become a long list.

“And yet, this was not expected of the Primal of Life,” Kolis continued. “There were no limitations, as if being in the Primal of Life’s favor couldn’t lead to poor judgment, even though the Primal god’s abilities were a collection of the other Primals’—a medley of the others’ goodness that could be exploited. Do you know how?”

I shook my head.

Kolis’s smile was more of a smirk. “My brother could bring rain to lands parched, but he could not wash those lands into the sea as Phanos can. He could help foster love between two individuals, but he could not twist it into hate as Maia is wont to do. He could capture souls, but he could not direct their path as Keella can.” His nostrils thinned. “He could grant fortune but not curse those with misfortune like Veses can. And he could ensure that a hunt—be it for animal or the missing—was successful, but he could not weaken the bow or hide what one seeks as Hanan was able to do. When asked for advice, Eythos could stir duty within the most slothful character, but he couldn’t inspire blind loyalty as Embris can. He could breed peace and accord, but not war and vengeance.”

Kolis tipped back his head. “He could change any mortal’s or god’s life for the better if he wanted to, in whatever way he saw fit. But the Fates did not see that as something forming bonds with them could influence.”

“That doesn’t sound fair,” I said after a moment. “It actually makes no sense.”

Kolis eyed me, some of the eagerness easing from his features. “Then you and I are in agreement.”

That was a disturbing thought.

“But to the Arae, it does make sense, and ensuring that emotions would never sway me was how they believed those who hadn’t earned their paradise or punishment would keep from being rewarded with such. To them, eternity was far more important than what they saw as a temporary life, despite how shortsighted that belief was.”

More like how long-sighted it was. It was like looking upon the forest and being unable to see all the trees within it. “And neither you nor Eythos could talk to them about this?”

“For what purpose? To change their minds?” Kolis laughed, the sound bordering on mocking. “You do not change the Fates’ minds.”

Okay, maybe he was right. What did I know? Absolutely nothing when it came to any of this. “But what does this have to do with what you just did with that Chosen?”

“Because that, too, creates balance. One designed only to be known by the Arae, the true Primal of Life, and the true Primal of Death,” he said. “A balance that was established when the Ancients created the realms.”

Headache forgotten, I stared at him. “I thought Eythos created the realms.”

Kolis’s smile was harsh. “He created some, but he didn’t create the realms—all the lands and oceans that allow life to foster and grow. The Ancients did. And contrary to what is told and believed, the Ancients were not the first of the Primals, nor will any Primal become an Ancient, no matter how old they become.”

I opened my mouth, but then it struck me. If the dragons—the ancestors of the draken—were here, something had to create them. It hadn’t been Eythos since they already existed when he’d become so fascinated by them.

“And they also decreed that there must be death and vice versa. Just as every action has a reaction, one cannot exist without the other. And it would not be as simple as there only being life if there was no death, or only death if there was no life.” Kolis’s eyes flashed. “So, there must always be the Primal of Death and the Primal of Life, even if nothing more than a spark of embers remains in them. Even if they are in stasis or…” His gaze flickered over me. “Or hidden within a mortal bloodline. As long as the embers exist in some fashion, and life is created and taken, the balance is maintained.”

“Oh,” I whispered, staring ahead but not seeing him.

He studied me. “I see you now understand the importance of life, even if it is undesirable to you. And that you see what I personally risk by not taking those embers.”

I nodded, but he mistook my shock. I’d always known what would happen if the embers of life were extinguished. It was what he’d unintentionally shared that shook me.

Kolis couldn’t be killed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The realization that Kolis couldn’t be killed occupied my thoughts long after he left, only allowing me a few hours of restless sleep—if that.

Kolis was the Primal of Death. He carried the true embers of Death.

Ash was a Primal of Death. He did not carry the true embers of Death.

And since Kolis had ensured that none of his Court were left to Ascend to the Primal of Death after he stole the embers from Eythos, he was it.

I couldn’t believe it.

With a dull throbbing in my temples that spread to my jaw every so often, I paced restlessly while Callum read from whatever book he had in his lap. Glancing at the porcelain pitcher on the table, I debated launching it at his head for no other reason than it would make me feel better.

But only temporarily.

Frustration dogged me as I made another pass in front of the door. Ash may not know who’d truly created the realms, but he and everyone else, especially the Fates, had to know that Kolis couldn’t be killed.

So why in the whole wide realm had Holland, a Fate, spent years training me to kill the Primal of Death? Why would Eythos put Sotoria’s soul in with the embers, positioning her, through me, to kill him? Especially when doing so would wreak havoc and destruction throughout the realms.

I had to be missing something.

Rubbing my temples, I walked from one rounded corner of the cage to the other. First, I’d learned I couldn’t kill Kolis because Eythos’s plan had gone sideways. Now, I’d learned that Kolis couldn’t be killed—

Stopping, I looked up at the diamonds in the center of the cage.

The Star diamond.

It could hold Primal embers. After all, The Star had been created to contain the embers of a fallen Primal.

I lowered my hands from my aching temples as I stared at the strange, almost milky light the diamonds reflected. My stomach soured. If I could get a hold of the Star diamond—and that was a big if—I doubted it could be used to hold a soul and the embers simultaneously.

But unless I’d spent my entire life training for something utterly pointless, the Arae must have believed they could get their hands on The Star again. It was the only thing that made sense.

“What are you doing?” Callum asked.

Tearing my gaze from the diamonds, I started walking again. “Praying.”

“Really?” came the dry response.

I turned to him. “What are—?” The embers in my chest suddenly thrummed. A Primal was near.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever Kolis had in store today while hoping he would bring news of Ash’s release.

You need to tell him that you will die without me.

My mouth dried as dream-Ash’s words floated through my thoughts.

Callum frowned, following my sudden shift in attention to the doors. “You feel a Primal?”

Unfortunately. “Yes.”

“That makes no sense.” Callum flipped his book closed. “Kolis is occupied.”

My brows rose as I eyed the doors. Interesting. “What is he doing?”

“If he wanted you to know, he would’ve told you.” Callum rose, picking up the dagger lying on the cushion.

Throwing that pitcher at his head was becoming more appealing with each passing second.

“What do you think you’re going to do with that dagger?” I asked.

“The same you would do with it.” Callum shot me a sideways look. “Just because you can’t kill with it doesn’t mean you can’t make it hurt.”

He had a point.

A muffled voice came through the doors, possibly belonging to Elias or another guard.

I looked again at the shadowstone dagger Callum held. “Should I be worried?”

“Every Primal knows better than to come near this part of the sanctuary.” The Revenant strode toward the doors. “Unless you misread what you felt, this Primal appears not to know better.”

“I didn’t misread anything,” I said as I glanced around the cage for a weapon even more useless than the dagger he held.

The truth was, if a Primal meant to do me harm while I was stuck in a cage, I was already dead.

The embers pulsed in my chest, almost as a reminder that I had them.

And I did.

Except, I didn’t think using them was all that wise given the headaches I’d been having.

Callum reached the doors just as they swung open, smacking right into him. He staggered back, cursing as a trickle of blood leaked from his nose. A startled laugh left me, but it faded quickly when I saw a stunning vision in off-white cross the threshold.

Veses.

Anger pounded through me, causing my muscles to tense. Faint twinges of pain radiated through my limbs. The crown was absent, and her blond ringlets were swept up and pinned with rubies, but she looked even better than when I’d seen her in the Council Hall, her color completely returned to her cheeks.

The Primal goddess glanced in Callum’s direction. “Oh.” Taking in the bloodied Revenant, a light brown eyebrow arched as I caught sight of a thin-lipped Elias outside the chamber. “You were standing behind the doors.” Her attention shifted from him to the cage—to me. Her full lips rose in a smile. “My apologies.”

“Apology unnecessary.” Callum dragged the back of his hand under his nose. “If you’re looking for Kolis, he is not here.”

“I’m not looking for him.” Smoothing a hand over an ivory-clad hip, she took a step forward. For once, her gown was more modest than the one I wore. I couldn’t see even a hint of her breasts. “Hello.”

“Fuck you,” I replied.

Her throaty laugh grated on my skin as she took another step.

Callum shadowed her. “Why are you here?”

Slowly, she turned her head to Callum. The air charged, sparking over my skin. Callum felt it, too. His spine stiffened, but he didn’t back off. Reluctant respect flashed through me, but it was brief as he sheathed his dagger. “Again, why are you here, Your Highness?”

Her smile deepened. “As I already told Elias, I came to speak with Seraphena.”

“That’s not—”

“And as I also informed Elias, denying me would be seriously unwise.”

Callum held his ground. “It would be seriously unwise for you to defy His Majesty’s orders.”

Veses’ features tightened as she raised one hand. The doors swung shut in Elias’s face. She focused on Callum, and for a moment, I wasn’t exactly sure who I’d root for in a fight between them.

“I do not intend for Kolis to know I’m here.” Veses placed a finger on Callum’s lips, one with a black-painted nail instead of red. “Which means I do not intend for you or any of his guards to run and tell him. But I don’t think you will. I also believe you will ensure his guards don’t.”

“And why would you think that?” I asked, walking toward the chests. “Callum is an…ever-faithful servant.”

Veses smirked as her gaze flicked to me. “Because, unbeknownst to Callum, he and I share something in common.”

“Being obnoxious pieces of shit?” I smiled.

Callum’s head whipped to me. “Silence.”

I lifted a hand and extended a middle finger.

“She’s so classy, isn’t she?” Veses purred, facing me. “But no, my dear, that is not what I was referencing.”

“What do you have in common, then?”

Her syrupy-sweet smile returned. “Loyalty.”

I stared at her, stuck somewhere between disbelief and revulsion. And gods help me, a little bit of pity rose because if she truly were still loyal to Kolis after the events in the Council Hall, and was still in love with the false King, then she hopelessly hated herself.

“I know you’re loyal to Kolis,” Callum said, stepping closer to her. “But you still cannot be here, Veses. Even if I said nothing to him about this visit, he could find out. And that would not end well.”

“He will not harm you.” Veses kept inching forward. She was close enough now that her rose scent reached me. “You’re like a son to him.”

For some reason, that disturbed me as much as her loyalty to Kolis.

Callum’s jaw tightened. “I’m not worried about me.”

My gaze shot to him. Was he…? He worried about Veses?

“That’s sweet of you.” Veses touched his cheek this time, just below the golden paint. “But I can handle Kolis and his punishments.”

His chest rose sharply. “Can you?”

A pink flush stained her cheekbones. “I can.” She withdrew her touch. “And, actually, that is what I wanted to speak to her about.”

He stiffened. “Veses…”

“I’m not going to hurt her.” Her chin lifted. “I’m not foolish.”

His pale eyes widened. “I wasn’t suggesting you were. That is the last thing you are.”

Besides the fact that Veses was very, very foolish, Callum did not seem concerned for her. And he obviously harbored some level of fondness for the awful—albeit pretty—monster. I didn’t know what to think about any of that. Actually, I simply didn’t have the mental capacity for it.

“Look, I just want to talk to her about what happened. You know why I would want that. You were there, after all.” Thick lashes lowered. “All I want to do is speak to her about…”—her delicate shoulders shuddered—“about that in private.”

My eyes narrowed. Yeah, I didn’t think that was why she was here at all.

Callum’s lips pursed as he glanced in my direction. “Fuck.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “You have ten minutes.”

“That’s all I need.” Veses smiled brightly, taking his hand and squeezing it. “Thank you.”

Shooting me one last look, he cursed again and then left the chamber.

Leaving me with the Primal who had already tried to kill me once.

Not that he knew that.

The door snicked closed, and Veses said, “Just so you know, I’m not here to thank you for attempting to intervene the other night.”

“It didn’t even cross my mind.”

“Good. Because I actually enjoyed it,” she said. “Kyn has a certain…sadistic edge to him that just gets me…” She shivered. “Wet.”

“Sure.”

“What? You don’t believe me? That wasn’t the first time I’ve been punished in such a way. If one can call it punishment.” She trailed a finger over the neckline of her gown. “If you really anger Kolis, and he’s in the mood to be entertained, he’ll give you to one of his draken for the evening.” She drew a plump, pink lip between her teeth. “And trust me, when their claws and scales come out, they fuck hard.” She laughed softly. “Normally, Kolis likes to watch, and I enjoy it even more. When I come, it’s while looking at him. Sadly, whatever you said put an end to things before they got real nice and—”

“Convincing me you speak the truth seems really important to you,” I interrupted, not wanting to hear any more. “Or are you trying to convince yourself that you liked it?”

Her finger halted in the center of the bodice.

“Maybe you did.” I stepped close to the bars. “I’m sure Kyn’s sadistic roughness speaks to your sadism. That is what makes you wet.”

Veses’ nostrils flared.

“But I also know what I saw in your face when Kolis summoned Kyn. You may have gotten off, but you did not want it at first.” I held her stare. “I’m sure both mortals and Primals call that the same—”

“Don’t,” she warned, her lips peeling back, “even finish that sentence. It was nothing, and I owe you no gratitude.”

“I wouldn’t want it even if you did.” I looked down at her. “How are you even here?”

She let loose a delicate yet still-somehow-attractive snort. “I could ask you the same question.”

“I think it’s obvious why I’m here.”

Her stare turned shrewd. “Perhaps.”

My eyes narrowed on her, unease building.

“But to answer your question, I had to…chew myself free.” She lifted her slender arms as my brows shot up. “If you’re thinking I had to chew through my muscle and bone on both arms, you’d be correct.”

I gaped at her, my mind immediately filling with grisly images. “Really?”

“How else do you think I got free of shackles made in the same way this pretty little cage of yours was?” Veses glanced down at her arms. “Growing these back from the elbow down took some time.”

“That is…disgusting.”

“You should’ve seen me when they were just mangled stumps,” she replied. “Still, I was far more attractive than you.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll admit, it was extreme, but when I felt Hanan’s death, I just knew it was our dear Nyktos who’d done it,” she said, and my teeth started to grind at the our-Nyktos part. “That’s what woke me from stasis, if you care to know.”

“I don’t.”

Veses smirked. “Anyway, no one else would dare do such a thing. But as I said to you before, Nyktos can be so…deliciously unpredictable in his anger. I figured Hanan had gotten his hands on you, you were dead in one way or another, and it was best if I made myself as scarce as possible before Nyktos returned and blamed me for something I had nothing to do with.”

“Are you forgetting that he imprisoned you because you tried to kill me?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

I stared at her.

“But imagine my surprise when I arrived in my Court only to be told that Kolis had a new pet who also happened to be the recently crowned Consort of the Shadowlands.” A glow of eather pulsed behind her pupils. “It was nearly as shocking as hearing Kolis call you his graeca, the same freckled mortal Nyktos sought to keep hidden, who happens to have the Primal embers of life stowed away inside her.”

“Did you mean to say disappointment instead of surprise?” I retorted.

She eyed me. “Disappointed cannot even begin to adequately describe what I felt. Devastated? Heartbroken? Yes.”

“Exactly how devastated could you be when, not that long ago, I saw you grinding on another man’s lap?” I countered.

“Just because what I want has been out of my reach doesn’t mean I cannot take what is.”

But she had taken what was not within her reach.

“So, in the last day or so, I did some digging,” she continued. “Oh, the things I’ve learned. Nyktos’s imprisonment is not at all surprising. After all, he did kill another Primal—one known throughout the realms as brave and formidable.” She pressed her hand to her neck. “If I had pearls, I’d be clutching them.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I detect a hint of sarcasm.” Dipping her chin, she grinned. “You’d be right to suspect my sincerity. Hanan was a weak, sniveling coward who’d outlived his worth. Good riddance.”

Apparently, Hanan and Veses hadn’t been on good terms.

“I also learned that the Shadowlands are on the verge of invading Dalos.” She shivered. “Now that will be entertaining. Should liven up the humdrum of everyday life.”

“Was having to chew your arms off not exciting enough for you?”

Veses chuckled. “It was short-lived.”

No part of me was surprised that she found the idea of people dying entertaining. And that was exactly what would happen if the Shadowlands’ forces invaded—there would be losses on both sides.

She watched me. “I also learned about the deal you made for Nyktos’s freedom.”

“And by learned about the deal, do you mean you spoke with Callum?”

“I’ll never tell.” She winked. “But you know what the most interesting thing I learned was?”

“The better question is do I care,” I said. “The answer is no.”

“You should care,” she replied, the edges of her fangs dragging over her lower lip. “Because there is some…how should I phrase it? Doubt concerning who you claim to be.”

I forced myself to show no reaction. “Gee, I wonder who the source of that doubt is.”

“If you think it’s just Callum, you’re wrong,” she replied, and I tensed. “You see, all of us Primals who were alive when Kolis first became the Primal of Life remember what Sotoria looked like. And while you share similar features—”

“The hair color is wrong, and I have more freckles,” I said. “I know. That is evidence of nothing.”

“Except other reborn souls appeared as they were in their previous lives.”

“And how many of those souls were also placed with the embers of life?” I reasoned, rather proud of my fast thinking. “Has it occurred to you or anyone else that had some impact?”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s occurred to some,” she said, tilting her head. “Mostly those who have no interest in whether or not you are Sotoria.”

“But you? You have a vested interest in simply not wanting to believe that I am her,” I said. “That way, you would be…less devastated.”

Her lips thinned.

“But I’m beginning to think you like feeling that way,” I continued. “After all, you are beautiful, Veses.”

Her lips turned up.

“At least on the outside,” I added, and the curve disappeared. “Either way, you could have almost anyone you want, gods and mortal alike, yet you seek the two most ineligible beings in both realms.”

A muscle began ticking in her jaw. “I think it’s funny you believe they are ineligible.”

“What I think is funny, is that both you and Callum seem to assume I won’t say anything to Kolis about your visit.”

“I’ve assumed nothing. Callum? He’s a charming boy, but he doesn’t always think things through.” She lifted a shoulder.

Callum? Charming?

“But I don’t think you’re going to say anything,” she added.

I crossed my arms. “And why is that?”

She shrugged again, slowly walking from the side of the cage to where I stood. Eather crackled from her eyes. “You won’t tell Kolis.”

“You’re far too confident in that.”

“I’m not confident. I just know I’m right.” She moved as close as she could without touching the bars. Only a foot separated us. “You won’t tell him because you know how he’ll react. And despite what I say, you wouldn’t put me in that position because you’re such a good and decent mortal.”

Tension crept into my shoulders. “You’re right.”

Her smile turned smug.

“But you’re also wrong. I’m neither good nor decent since I’d rather see you dead than punished.”

Veses’ laugh was like wind chimes. “I see jealousy makes you say terrible things.”

The embers stirred in my chest as anger continued to flare. “I know.”

Her head tilted. “About?”

“About the deal you made with Nyktos.”

Veses’ smile faded.

Mine returned. “Kolis seemed disappointed in you for not telling him about my presence in the Shadowlands. How do you think he’ll feel knowing that you made a pact with his nephew to keep any knowledge of me hidden from him?”

Astonishment briefly lit up her features. “He told you?” Her eyes met mine as a cunning smile replaced her previous astonishment. “Did he tell you how eager he was to strike the deal? How much he enjoyed—?”

“Spin all the bullshit you want about yourself.” A rush of rage caused the embers in my chest to go crazy. “But don’t even try doing that to him, you sick bitch.”

Veses sneered, baring her fangs. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner?”

“How dare I? What in the gods’ names is wrong with you?” I struggled to keep the pulsing embers down. “There is no way you don’t know how disgustingly wrong what you’ve done is. You cannot be that demented.” The moment the words left my mouth, I realized that Kolis was that demented, so Veses likely was, too. I shook my head. “Clearly, what happened the other night in the Council Hall wasn’t the first time. You know what that feels like.”