Текст книги "A fire in the flash"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 28 (всего у книги 37 страниц)

He nodded.

“Savage,” I murmured, my fingers pressing into his chest. “What if something happens to you? What if you don’t come back, and I’m stuck here? Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful, but I don’t think I can eat lilacs or—”

“Nothing will happen to me. Nor will you need to eat the lilacs—and please don’t attempt that.” A hint of amusement crept into his tone. “Nothing will happen. You are safe here, Sera. I promise.”

I knew I was. No one even knew about this cavern. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, liessa.” He brushed the backs of his knuckles across my cheek. “It is unlikely Kolis has even begun to recover.”

Heart thumping, I nodded.

“It’s okay to be afraid.” He touched my lower lip. “But I would not leave you if I thought, for even one second, it was unwise.”

“I’m not afraid,” I lied yet again, and once more he knew it, because I was scared. Of not seeing him again. Of something going wrong. Of being alone. Of the gods only knew what else.

But I also never wanted to see the gown again. I did need clothing—preferably something that wasn’t see-through. And we also didn’t have time for me to have a breakdown.

“Okay,” I said, but Ash hesitated, his eyes searching mine. “I’m okay.” I pushed out of his lap, letting myself drift back into the water. “Go.”

“Only a few minutes,” he promised as he rose, rivulets running down his soaked leather pants.

The weight of the water caused them to hang low on his hips, revealing the indents on either side. I bit my lip, reminding myself that while he looked indecently erotic, he had to be so uncomfortable.

“Make sure you get something dry to wear for yourself.”

One side of his lips kicked up. There was a flicker of white mist, and then Ash was gone.

Breathe in.

I looked around the dimly lit cavern. Hold. Other than the water, it was quiet. Breathe out. Exactly how far underground was I? Hold. Probably not the best thing to think about. Turning in the water, I nibbled on my lip as I crept forward, my heart slowing as the water gently spun around me. I stopped a few feet from the boulder Ash had pointed out. The water reached just above my chest as he’d said. I stood still, letting myself soak in the feel of the warm, frothing water. It foamed at my sides and beneath the surface, bubbles dancing wildly over my hips and legs. I looked down, realizing I had crossed my arms tightly over my chest.

Gods.

I loosened my stance as I breathed in the sweet air. Above me, I heard the faint chatter of birds, and for a few moments, I just listened to them. How long had it been since I’d heard birds? Weeks? Even longer, actually. Outside of the hawks, there was no such life in the Shadowlands.

No such life…

Clearing my mind, I searched for Sotoria’s presence. I didn’t necessarily feel her, but I knew she was still there. “I…I don’t know what you’ve been aware of,” I said quietly. “But I’m going to get you out of me. You’re not going to be trapped.”

I felt a thudding sensation then, almost like a second heartbeat. It had to be her.

“We’re going to put you in something, and then…” Then what? My lips pursed as I eyed the scattered holes of light overhead. “I don’t know exactly how all this will work, but I know that Attes will make sure you’re taken care of, and see that you find peace again.” Emotion clogged my throat. “Okay?”

I didn’t hear her, but hearing her voice was rare. There was another soft, strange thud, and I took that as her acknowledging what I’d—

A sharp, pulsing ache came without warning, lancing across my face from my temples. Sucking in a gasp, I went completely still as a metallic taste filled my mouth.

Hand trembling, I parted my lips and gently prodded the roof of my mouth with a finger. I looked down. Blood dotted the skin.

I quickly lowered my hand under the water as I swallowed, wincing at the metallic taste on my tongue. The pang of pain receded to its standard dull ache.

Glancing back at the bank, I surveyed the shadows before letting myself slip under the surface.

Warm, rolling water rushed over my head and erupted into whirling bubbles all around me. I did what I always did when in my lake. I stayed underwater, my thoughts emptying until there was nothing there. This time, though, I didn’t stay until my lungs started to burn. I didn’t get to that point because I felt the hum of a Primal. My heart lurched, even though I knew it had to be Ash. I pushed off the ground, breaking the surface.

 Ash was a few feet from the edge of the hot springs, placing a bundle on an outcropping of larger rocks near the diamond. Immediately, I saw that he’d found himself some dry pants—dark brown breeches that fit his thighs and calves like a glove, tucked into black boots.

Relief swept through me so fast that I let myself sink until the water bubbled at my chin. “That didn’t take long.”

“I thought to go to the Shadowlands, but I worried that would take longer than necessary,” he said. “So, I went to the Bonelands.”

I sucked my lip between my teeth. Obviously, he worried that I would freak out if he took too long.

“I was able to grab some breeches and a tunic for you. They’ll fit and be good enough for now. No shoes yet. Bele is on the hunt for them as we speak.”

“Bele,” I whispered, rising from the water. I made my way forward. “How is she?”

Pulling something dark and long from the bundle, he faced me. “She’s…Bele.”

I laughed at that because it told me what I needed to know. She was fine. “And Aios?”

Ash went completely still. “She is okay, too. But she was not in the Bonelands.” His lips parted as he watched me approaching the earthen steps. “She stayed in the Shadowlands.”

“Is it safe for her?”

“Yes.” His gaze moved as the swirling, frothing water dipped lower and lower, dropping first to my navel and then my hips, and then even lower as I climbed the steps.

A heady warmth gathered in my chest, moving down where he’d fastened his heated stare. I saw the tips of his fangs again. Intense pleasure darted through me, and…so did something else—something colder.

Ash’s gaze lifted, the wisps of eather in his eyes stilling. My heart stuttered.

“I also grabbed a blanket,” he said before I could speak. He came toward me, spreading it out. “To use in place of a towel.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling…gods, I didn’t know how I felt.

Ash was quiet as he began drying me off, wringing as much wetness from my hair as he could. I started to tell him that I could do it but then stopped. I thought maybe he needed to do this, and I enjoyed it—how gentle he was, how thorough. It reminded me of another time.

I glanced at the wrapped diamond, cringing. I really hoped his father wasn’t so aware that he’d heard our earlier conversation. Or could see any of this.

Actually, it was probably best I not think about that.

“Thank you,” I said when Ash finished.

He rose as our eyes met. “My pleasure.”

I smiled as he turned, tossing the blanket where I’d left the gown. As he walked past them, a spark ignited the small pile. My eyes widened as silver flames washed over the blanket and gown, leaving nothing behind. Raising a brow, I looked over at him.

“I really don’t ever want to see that gown again,” he remarked, picking up what appeared to be black breeches.

I quietly dressed as Ash pulled on a loose, linen tunic he must’ve grabbed for himself. It hung untied at the collar, leaving a tantalizing glimpse of his golden-bronze skin. The breeches he brought were on the tighter side, but the shirt was several sizes too large, easily able to fit him. It fell to my knees. Honestly, it could’ve doubled as a nightgown.

I lowered my arms, watching the sleeves flap several inches past my fingers.

“Cute,” he drawled.

“Uh-huh.”

Joining me, he took hold of one sleeve and started rolling it up. “I saw Elias while I was there. Only briefly. He said Attes should be arriving soon.”

“Good.” I breathed out, ignoring the pulse of pain skating across the back of my head. “Do you think he found Keella?”

“I’m sure.” He glanced at the diamond.

“We’ll have to…release your father before anything else.” I held still as Ash tucked the sleeve in at my elbow. “What do you think will happen when we do that?”

“His soul will be free.” Head bowed, he moved on to the other sleeve. “He should enter Arcadia.”

“Will you…will you be able to see him then? His soul?”

“I should be.”

“Talk to him?”

“Souls don’t speak like we do. You may hear them in your mind.” He folded the sleeve up. “But I don’t know what will happen.”

“I hope you hear him.” I pressed my lips together. “Afterward, we need to remove Sotoria’s soul from me.”

“I’m not sure about that.”

“Ash—”

He halted halfway up my forearm, his gaze lifting to mine. “I have no idea how to remove her soul from you. We’re only assuming Keella can. That means she will likely have The Star when she does it and could try to take your embers.”

My brows flew up. “Delfai said the embers could only be taken if—”

“I remember what he said.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. “We don’t know if Keella knows that. Or if Attes does. Both could try something.”

“Ash,” I began. “Do you really think either of them will try something? Keella is not a Kolis loyalist.”

“I’m not worried about her,” he muttered. “Attes? Different story.”

He finished with the sleeve. Perfect timing, too, because I crossed my arms. “You’re worried about Attes?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“It shouldn’t be a question at all,” I pointed out. “He helped us escape, and he helped me before.”

“When did he do that?” Ash eyed me as I started to step back. He cupped my elbow. “Not yet.”

“I know you two haven’t had your little chat yet—wait, why do I need to stand still?”

Ash arched a brow as he reached on either side of my neck, slipping his hands under my hair.

“Oh.” I stood motionless as he began gently working my hair from where it was stuck beneath the shirt. “Anyway, Kyn was ordered to destroy the Shadowlands to send a message and then take me. Attes intervened.”

“By taking you himself.” The air charged in the cavern. “To Kolis.”

“It was the only way to stop Kyn from destroying the Shadowlands,” I reasoned.

The look Ash gave me made it clear what he thought of Attes’s interference.

“Look, your father trusted Attes,” I said, trying another tactic. “Trusted him well enough that Eythos told him what he planned to do with Sotoria’s soul and the embers.”

Ash halted again.

“Attes has known this whole time, Ash. Wouldn’t he have told Kolis about Sotoria’s soul if he were loyal to him?” I said. “Wouldn’t he have said I wasn’t Sotoria? Because Attes also knew that whatever your father attempted did not entirely work. He knew I wasn’t Sotoria, and he had no reason to keep that information from Kolis, who likely would’ve come to the same conclusion I did. That if The Star is powerful enough to hold and transfer embers, it would be strong enough to do the same with a soul.”

That muscle running along his jaw ticked harder. “If Attes knew this entire time, why didn’t he tell me?”

“That’s a good question. I asked that myself.”

Ash had managed to get all but a few strands of hair out from under the shirt. “I’m sure he had an answer.”

“The Fates. They demanded that you never know of the plan. It was one of their ways to keep their precious balance. And, yes, that is really dumb, but Attes and Eythos feared that if they told you, it would end up turning back on you somehow.”

That muscle in his jaw worked overtime as he scooped a curl from where it was plastered to my neck.

“And he didn’t trust you.”

“That is the first easily believable thing I’ve heard.”

I sighed. “He didn’t trust you entirely. He never knew what you really thought of Kolis, which sounds hard to believe.”

“It’s not.” He moved on to the other side of my neck. “I told you. Even if I didn’t always fool Kolis, I could be very convincing.” He looked at me. “None of that means I trust Attes in this.”

Frustration rose. “I sort of want to knock some sense into you right now.”

“You can try.” He flashed me a grin.

I ignored it. “Attes hates Kolis, and you have to know why—what Kolis did to him. To his children.”

Ash’s nostrils flared as he draped the last of my hair over my shoulder. “I know.”

“Then do you think Attes doesn’t want to see Kolis dealt with as badly as you do?”

His thick lashes lowered, shielding his gaze.

“And Attes did what Elias did,” I tossed out.

The skin at the corners of his eyes creased. “He swore his allegiance to you?”

“Yeah, even did the whole kneeling and speech thing.”

Some of the hardness left his features. “That’s…interesting.”

Rolling my eyes, I threw up my arms. “Attes has only done what Keella has, what you have. Survived while doing his best to prevent Kolis from getting what he wants,” I said. “And that is not just Sotoria. It’s the embers, too. He wants—or needs,” I corrected myself, “those embers.”

“So he can become a crazed, unstoppable monster?”

“Well, besides that. It’s the whole balance thing. Life has to be created to keep the realms stable, and what he’s doing to accomplish that is creating what he calls—”

“I know what he’s created. The Ascended,” he said, and surprise flickered through me. “The Revenants. He couldn’t shut the fuck up about them when he came to tell me about the…” Tendons stood out along his throat. “When he came to tell me that I would be set free once my anger was under control.”

I knew that wasn’t what he’d been about to say. It was when Kolis went to tell him about the deal. “Why did he even bring that up?”

“Because my uncle is a boastful fuck who takes his inability to create life like my father did personally and to the extreme.”

I nodded slowly, remembering how he’d reacted when he sensed that I didn’t believe he could create life. “Anyway, it won’t always work. He knows that. So does Kyn.”

Shadows pressed against Ash’s cheeks.

I quickly continued. “Kolis didn’t know he couldn’t Ascend me, but he still believed the whole thing would be dangerous. So, he planned to wait until I was in my Culling to take the embers. He didn’t know that I had already started my Ascension. And the only reason I can figure that it didn’t completely happen was because of what Kolis had Phanos do.”

His gaze sharpened. “What was that?”

I told him about the ceeren and their sacrifice, and I practically saw the wheels beginning to turn in his mind. “No.”

He frowned. “No to what?”

“I will not allow anyone else to give their life to extend mine. I know you’re thinking that.”

“Except it’s not just your life you’re extending, Sera. It’s thousands,” Ash countered. “Millions.”

My hands fisted at my sides. “But only temporarily. As long as the embers remain inside me, the Rot spreads and does more damage. And…”

Ash went still again. “And what?”

“And I’m…I’m almost out of time,” I admitted. I didn’t think he took another breath. “I’m dying.”

“No.”

“I’m dying, Ash.” As I spoke, I donned that veil. I hated doing it with him, but I didn’t want the calmness I’d found regarding what was coming to crack and for him to feel anything from me. It would already be hard enough for him. So, I emptied myself as much as I could. “You have to take the embers, and you need to do it soon. I don’t have long—”

“You don’t know that.” Shadows thickened beneath his flesh, quickly erasing the warmer hues of his skin.

“I do, and so do you.” I cupped his cheeks. His flesh was so icy now. “My mouth—”

“Don’t say it,” he whispered—begged.

I had to. “My mouth has been bleeding. It was doing it just a bit ago when you left to get me clothing.” When he started to look away, I stopped him, keeping his eyes on mine. “And I no longer feel the embers in my chest, Ash. I feel them everywhere. In my blood. My bones. My skin.”

A shudder rocked him, and then I was in his arms, held tightly to his chest. He didn’t speak as I felt his heart pounding. He didn’t need to because he knew.

My Ascension had fully begun. And I was right. We didn’t have much time.

We likely didn’t even have a day.

The end was upon me—us.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The knowledge of what was to come followed as Ash and I shadowstepped into the Bonelands.

I knew the moment we arrived. The humidity and sweet scent of the cavern disappeared, replaced by a cooler breeze that reminded me of spring in Lasania.

Ash’s arms didn’t loosen from around me as I lifted my head. The mist started to dissipate around us as the chatter of birds faded, revealing green—lots of lush green foliage. I saw low, ground-hugging evergreens, bushes that bloomed with pale flowers, and trees with vine-covered trunks and sweeping limbs heavy with broad leaves.

“Huh,” I murmured, holding the Star diamond in my right hand.

Ash drew up a hand, his fingers tangling in my wet hair. “What?”

“I’m kind of confused.” I looked to my right, seeing more of the same. “For a place called the Bonelands, I expected to see a bunch of bones.”

“Look down, liessa.”

My gaze darted back to him, my eyes widening. Part of me wasn’t sure I wanted to, but curiosity always, always won out.

The corners of my lips pulled down. “All I see is dirt and grass.”

“If we stood in this exact spot at the end of the Ancients’ time, we’d be standing upon the remains of those who fell to them in battle,” he said. “And those bones are still here, only retaken by the lands over the millennia. Nearly everything east of the Skotos to the Cove has grown from the remains of those who perished.”

My upper lip curled as I resisted the urge to hop into Ash’s arms. I’d seen a lot of gross things. Did quite a bit of them myself. But I somehow found this far more disturbing. “Knowing we’re basically standing on the graves of the gods only know how many skeletons kind of freaks me out. And it feels a little disrespectful.”

“The draken would agree with you.” His fingers trailed through my hair. “They see the Bonelands as sacred.”

I’d heard that. I tilted my head back. Stippled sunlight glanced over the curve of Ash’s cheek and jaw. “What exactly caused the war with the Ancients?”

“One thing.” His gaze drifted over my face. “And yet many things.”

“That’s a helpful answer.”

A faint grin appeared. “The Ancients never felt things like mortals do, or even the Primals of my father’s age before the first of them fell in love. They just were not…created that way,” he said, sliding his hand from my hair to my chin. “But that didn’t mean they were apathetic to the needs of their children or the mortals who eventually populated the lands west of Iliseeum. They were full of empathy…until they weren’t.”

“What caused that to change?”

“The same things that happen to any being who sees too much time pass.” His thumb glided over my lower lip. “They lost their connection to those who came from their flesh and the mortals, seeing less and less of what made those who inhabited the realms beautiful over time. My father said they began to see anything not created by them as parasitic. The changes mortals made in their realm didn’t help. The Ancients were particularly displeased with the disruption of land in the name of advancement. Too many forests were cut down, replaced by farms and manors. Roads replaced soil. Cities were built upon meadows. When they looked at the mortal realm, they only saw death.”

“Really?” I drew out the word.

Ash nodded. “My father said the Ancients were not only able to see but could also connect to the souls of every living creation. That included higher forms of life such as you and me, but also animals and plant life.”

Creases formed between my brows. “Plants have souls?”

“That is what my father said the Ancients claimed.”

“So, I take it that neither you nor the older Primals can see such a thing?”

“Correct.” His thumb made another sweep across my lip. “The Ancients came to believe that mortals and the lands could not coexist. They figured they had to make a choice.”

“Mortals or…or the trees?”

“Mortals cannot exist without the bounty of the land,” he said. “So, to them, the choice was easy. They decided to cleanse the lands and clear it of mortals.”

“Dear gods,” I murmured. “And they could do that?”

“The Ancients were…well, remember what was said about a Primal of both Life and Death? How such a being could both destroy the realms and remake them in the same breath?”

“Yeah.” I shivered, thinking of Kolis having such power. “The Ancients could do that?”

“At first. Luckily, some realized the dangers of any being having such limitless power and took steps to lessen theirs long before the first mortal breathed. And they did that by creating offspring from their flesh.”

“Primals like your father?”

“Yes. They transferred parts of their energy—their essence—into each of their children, thus splitting their abilities among them and, therefore, creating a balance of power that was shared.”

Something about what he’d said struck a chord of familiarity.

“When the Ancients decided to cleanse the land, the Primals and gods joined forces with the mortals, draken, and their ancestors, to fight back.” He halted. “Even Kolis fought side by side with my father. It was a different time then.”

It was hard to imagine a time when Kolis and Eythos were on the same side.

The low, warbling trill of a draken drew our attention to the trees. “They’re waiting for us.”

“They are.” Ash guided my gaze back to his. “They can wait a few more moments.” Eather churned restlessly in his eyes. “How are you feeling? Honestly?”

Out of reflex, I started to tell him that I felt fine, but there was no point in lying. It also wasn’t fair to him. Or to me.

I took a breath that didn’t seem to inflate my lungs fully. It was a different feeling than the one that accompanied the anxiety-fueled breathlessness. This felt like a part of me simply no longer worked as well. “I’m…I’m tired.”

Ash’s expression revealed nothing, but his throat worked on a swallow. “How does your head feel? Your jaw?”

I wished I were still lying to him. “Just a dull ache right now.”

“Okay.” He dipped his head and kissed my brow. “Promise me you’ll let me know if the pain gets worse.”

“I promise.”

Ash stayed as he was for several moments, his cool hand against my cheek, and his lips against my brow. Then he stepped back and took my left hand, moving like he planned to lift me into his arms.

“What are you doing?”

His brows knitted. “I was going to—”

“Please, do not say you were going to carry me.”

“I want you to conserve your energy.”

“Walking doesn’t take any energy.”

The scowl deepened. “Along with not understanding what arguing is, I don’t think you get how the body works.”

My eyes narrowed. “I can walk, Ash. I’m dying,” I said, forcing my tone to be light as I swatted his chest, “but I’m not dead.”

The eather went unearthly still in his eyes. “That is not something to joke about.”

I sighed. He was right. “Which direction?”

“West.”

“West?” I looked left and then right before turning my stare to him. “Do I look like a compass?”

His lips twitched. “This way, liessa.”

With my hand held firmly in his, he started to our left. “We don’t have to walk far,” he said, his voice a little rougher than usual, drawing my gaze to his face. He stared ahead, his features impossible to read.

I squeezed his hand.

He gave me a faint smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Careful,” he instructed. “There are a lot of small rocks and branches. I don’t want you tearing up your feet.”

 That made me smile, and also made my heart hurt a little because he was worried about me hurting my feet. My feet. They could be chopped off, and it wouldn’t really matter.

Okay, it would probably hasten the inevitable, but his concern was sweet and…and it felt loving.

With the diamond in my hand, I walked with Ash for a few minutes, him leading me around fallen branches and scattered pebbles that wouldn’t pierce my skin even if I jumped on them. Eventually, slivers of white—dull white marble or limestone pillars—appeared through the trees.

“Is that a Temple?” I squinted.

“One of them.” He reached up, holding a branch out of the way. “And before you ask, I’m not sure who it once honored.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

A lock of reddish-brown hair fell against his cheek as he sent me a sidelong look.

“Whatever,” I muttered, falling quiet for about two seconds as I eyed a fallen, moss-draped tree. “So, mortals did live east of the Skotos?”

“They did.” Letting go of my hand, he gripped my hips and lifted me over the fallen tree with such ease that I couldn’t help but feel dainty and delicate. “Used to live right up to the foothills of the Carcers.”

“Wow.” Portions of the flat, square roof of the Temple came into view. “I didn’t think they ever lived that close to Iliseeum.”

“Primals and gods interacted more closely with mortals then, visiting villages and spending time with them,” he explained, taking my hand once more. “That was before the Primals’ abilities matured, and their effects began to influence the mortals.”

Ahead of us, something—no, a tall and lithe someone dressed in black moved between the trees, walking at a fast clip toward us.

“Who is that?” I asked.

“Bele.” His lips thinned. “You don’t—”

“Finally!” Bele yelled. Above us, limbs trembled as the silent birds took flight, scattering into the air. “I was starting to get worried.”

My lips began to curve as Bele came more into view, her skin a light golden brown in the fractured sunlight. She strode toward us, the midnight-hued tail of her shoulder-length braid bouncing as her pace picked up.

As usual, Bele was strapped to the teeth with weapons. Daggers were sheathed at her thighs, the bands on her forearms secured smaller blades, and the hilt of a sword on her back jutted out at her waist. Over her shoulder, I saw the curve of a bow.

Bele was…she had been fierce before she Ascended, confident and sometimes a little scary. But now?

Now, she was drenched in power and strength, moving through the thicket like a predator on the hunt.

 My steps slowed. She was now the Goddess of the Hunt. Or rather the Primal Goddess of the Hunt and Divine Justice. The last I’d heard, no one knew if Bele had Ascended into actual Primalhood, but that had been before Hanan’s untimely demise. If she had, though, wouldn’t I have felt her approach?

Bele’s slightly rounded cheeks lifted as a smile spread across her face, and then she was no longer several feet away but right in front of me. I didn’t even have time to gasp. Her arms went around me with such force that I almost dropped The Star, and would’ve toppled over backward before she steadied me if not for Ash’s hold on my hand.

Bele…was hugging me. Like really embracing me, with both arms and her head buried against my shoulder.

Shock rippled through me as my gaze darted to Ash. He raised a brow. Bele wasn’t the hugging type. Or really that emotional at all. She was more like the compliment-whilst-insulting-you-at-the-same-time type, which was probably why we got along. Somewhat. Both of us also seemed to thrive on irritating others.

I folded one arm around her and then my other once Ash slowly and reluctantly let go of my hand.

But he hovered close. “Take it easy on her, Bele.”

Her hold on me loosened a little. I felt her chest rise. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I murmured into her braid, patting her back awkwardly because I officially gave the worst hugs.

“For Aios,” she whispered hoarsely, reaching between us to touch the necklace. “If I’d lost her…” A tremor went through her.

I squeezed my eyes shut, having forgotten there was the hint of something intimate between the two, something more than just friendship. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“I just did. I’m not taking it back.” Her voice strengthened. “And you can’t reject it.”

My lips quirked. “Okay.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Bele drew back then. “I hate to ruin this reunion but…” She trailed off, inhaling sharply. She dropped her arms as her mouth opened, then closed. Eather lashed across her eyes—irises that had once been a shade of hazel that leaned more toward gold but were now silver. “Please tell me you got at least one good beatdown in on that motherfucker.”

For a moment, I wasn’t sure what had provoked the question, but then I realized she was looking at my neck—the bruises and the wound left by the scrape of Kolis’s fangs.

“She got in more than just one beatdown,” Ash stepped in, taking my hand again.

Bele’s chin lifted. “Really?”

“Yeah.” My normal tendency to be a braggart when it came to gaining the upper hand in any fight wasn’t there, which likely meant I was more tired than I realized. “He’s down for the count right now.”

Approval flashed across her stunning features, along with a savage smile. “I wish I’d been there to see it.”

I started to smile when I realized something about her. Bele had Ascended as the Primal Goddess of the Hunt, but her arms were bare. “You don’t have a cuff like the others?”

“Not yet.” Bele eyed the one around Ash’s biceps. “Apparently, it will appear when I’m ready.” She squinted at Ash. “And exactly when will that be?”

“I am under the impression it varies. Odin didn’t appear until a few years after I became a Primal of Death.”

“A few years? That’s annoying.” Bele rolled her eyes. “Anyway, we heard that Kolis was out of commission from some god named Elias, but we didn’t let him say much more before we bound his mouth.”

I blinked. “Before you did what?”

“We tied him up and bound his mouth,” she repeated. “Why are you looking at me like that? I don’t know him. None of us does. All that we know is that Attes popped in, dropped the asshole off with his gold-painted face, and then said he’d be back before any of us could even address the fact that that fucker was here.”

“Oh, my gods,” I muttered as Ash made a noise that sounded a lot like a laugh. “Elias is not a bad guy. And Attes…I’m not explaining all that again.” I shot Ash a glare. “Is Nektas here? He would know all of this.”

“Nektas is doing his draken thing.”

“As if he couldn’t have shifted into his mortal form at any point to tell you all that Elias didn’t need to be bound?” I started walking toward the Temple, where I assumed Bele had come from.

“Yeah, he could have. He didn’t.” Bele fell into step beside Ash and me. “Look, the god’s alive. No harm. No foul.”