Текст книги "Born of Blood and Ash"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 44 (всего у книги 63 страниц)

I looked around the space. Everything looked different now.

Attes stood in front of me and took my left hand in his. “Sera—”

Closing my eyes, I immediately regretted doing so. All I saw was the fear on the Chosen’s faces. The bodies of my family, strangers, and gods—bodies I had left in my wake.

I sucked in a short breath, stumbling back a step as I freed my hand from his grasp. “Dametria,” I gasped.

Attes frowned. “What?”

Part of me didn’t want to ask because if I’d done something to her… “Was she in Dalos? At Cor Palace or the Sanctuary?”

Understanding flickered across his features. “No, she was not. She has not been harmed.”

Thank the gods.

Attes inched closer. “You still haven’t closed this wound. It will not heal until you do.”

“Really haven’t had time.” In truth, I had completely forgotten about it.

“You need to close your wound.”

I stared at the ragged puncture wounds, feeling Nektas draw closer. There was so much blood on my arm, I had no idea who it actually belonged to.

“I swear to the Fates, Sera, if I have to force your mouth open to do so, I will,” Attes growled. “I’m giving you one more chance to do it yourself because Nyktos doesn’t need to return to see your wrist torn half-open.”

Nyktos.

Ash.

Hearing his name pierced my chest far more painfully than any arrow or dagger tonight. Gods, what would he think of me now? Would he still say that I was kind and loyal? That I thought of others before myself? That I wasn’t a monster? And the panic he must’ve felt while I fought Kolis… A shudder ran through me as I lifted my wrist and sealed the wounds.

“Thank you.” Attes thrust his hand through his hair and then dropped it. “Sera, I…” He briefly closed his eyes and then shook his head. “Nyktos will punch me three times more than last time for being in your bedchambers with you,” he joked, but the teasing didn’t reach his eyes or his tone. He exhaled heavily and then clasped the back of my neck. “I’m sorry, Sera. I’m so fucking sorry about everything.”

Everything.

I didn’t want to hear that because how could I apologize to all those who’d lost people they cared for today? I stepped away from him, my throat tightening.

“Kolis said none of this would’ve happened if I had given him Sotoria.”

Attes’s features tensed. “Sera—”

“You need to make sure she’s safe,” I said, my breath thinning. “If he gets to her, then all the deaths will have been for nothing.”

Eather streaked across his eyes. “He will not have her.”

Nektas pushed open the balcony doors. He crossed the distance, his long hair streaming behind him.

“Meyaah Liessa.”

I flinched at the sound of his gravelly voice. Gods, I didn’t want to see him right now. I didn’t want to see anyone because I knew I needed to keep it together. Kolis could attack at any moment. I had to be ready while Ash dealt with all those souls—some of which I had sent his way. The next breath I took got stuck.

The draken’s gaze swept over me. The blue in his eyes turned luminous. “You’ve been injured.”

A strangled sort of laugh escaped me. He was worried about me? Me?

Nektas stopped in front of me and grabbed my right hand. The flesh there was still pink and raw. He leaned in, sniffing, and growled low in his throat. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” Attes demanded. A moment later, I felt his hands running up my back, searching for a wound.

“I’m fine.” I pulled myself away from them.

Nektas’s eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not. You haven’t healed completely.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Worry filled Attes’s tone and stare. “Were you wounded by Ancient bone?”

“No. I don’t think so.” The room felt too small with them here. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Disagree,” Nektas stated.

My hands were trembling as I ran them down my face. “I am the last person either of you needs to worry about right now. Kolis—”

“Fuck Kolis,” snarled Nektas, his pupils contracted further into slits. “Attes, summon the Healer.”

“No!” I shouted, feeling the tenuous hold I had beginning to slip. “I don’t need the Healer. I don’t need either of you with me. I just need to be alone right now.”

“Attes.” Nektas ignored me. “Go—”

“Do you all know what I did? Why Ash is stuck at the Pillars? It wasn’t just Kolis. It was also me! I killed!” I screamed, my control completely snapping. I turned, finding Attes standing behind me. “I killed so many innocent people tonight!”

“Kyn killed more,” Attes said. “So did Embris. They did it on Kolis’s orders—”

“That doesn’t change what I did. I tried to fix it. I tried—” I stiffened, horrific images filling my head. Anger and sorrow pumped through me so intensely that, for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. In the distance, I heard another draken let out a series of staggered, anxious calls.

Images of the fire-lit hills and villages flashed before me, replacing those of my family. I saw the guards on Dalos’s Rise. The one who’d said he wouldn’t fight me. I saw Jove. I saw the Chosen huddled together in fear. The Priestess and all the destruction.

You murdered coldly and without thought or care. You’re no better than me.

“What did I do?” I whispered, my body shaking. “What have I become?”

Attes reached for me. “Sera—”

I pushed him away. The Primal stumbled back, and I doubled over, clutching my head. There were screams again, but this time, they were mine. My chest tightened. Nektas was speaking, but I couldn’t hear him. There were other voices now. I felt Nektas’s arms around my waist. I heard more draken as lightning flashed outside the balcony doors. I couldn’t breathe when I saw Jove. My entire body shook as I saw the limp babe in the Priestess’s arms. Ezra and Marisol. My mother. The ruined homes, broken streets, and leveled villages. The nameless, faceless lives I’d exchanged for those I’d brought back.

I was losing control again.

Breaking.

Pressure descended on my chest, and wind battered the walls, blowing open the balcony doors. I suddenly remembered what Veses had said when she came here. She’d warned me. She’d fucking warned me. Lights all along the wall flickered, and the bulbs burst. The bed rattled. I couldn’t calm myself. Couldn’t hold myself together like I knew I should. I couldn’t be stronger. Better. I didn’t even try.

I screamed.

I screamed until a hum filled every part of my being. My skin began to vibrate. Fire erupted along my flesh. Clothing tore. The sheath on my thigh snapped. My bones cracked and then fused back together as I shifted.

The nota took over.

The draken held me in his arms as I struggled, snapping and clawing at him. He didn’t let go, not even when I brought him to his knees. He held on, my claws scraping against the shadowstone, chipping the floor. I needed to be free. To run. To not think or feel.

“I’m not letting you go,” the draken grunted. I tried to throw my weight against him. “I’m sorry, Sera. I know you think that’s what you need right now, but it’s not safe.”

I growled, hissing and straining against him. I hurt. Outside. Inside. It was too much.

“Should I summon Kye?” a softer voice asked. “He could give her a sedative.”

“Is she still bleeding?” a deeper voice asked, carrying Primal power. My head snapped in his direction. I bared my fangs at the scarred Primal. His brows shot up.

“Either she is, or I am,” the draken said. “Actually, both of us are.”

“Then we don’t want to sedate her until we find out why she hasn’t healed completely.” The Primal watched me warily. “Plus, I’m half-afraid she’ll try to eat the Healer.”

“I think you need to be more worried about her eating you,” another voice came. I twisted my head to the far right, snarling at the auburn-haired god. “Please, do not let her go.”

“Trying not to.” The draken managed to work an arm under my chin, clamping my head against his chest. “I think it’s best if you leave.”

The clicking in the back of my throat grew into a roar.

“You sure about that?” the Primal asked.

“I have her under control,” the draken shouted, and I could smell the others’ doubt as I hissed at the Primal, feeling my fur rise. “Or she’ll tire herself out first. Either way, get the fuck out of here.”

The Primal nodded, taking the dark-skinned goddess’s arm. “We won’t be far.”

The draken cursed again. “And do not let Aios in here.”

I started to dig my back paws into the floor as the draken rolled his weight, pushing me down onto my belly. I didn’t like that. Neither…neither part of me did.

“Sera, listen to me,” the draken said, his head pressed against the back of my neck. “You need to get control of your nota. I’m not going to hurt you. You know that.”

I whined, trying to shake him off, but he didn’t budge an inch.

“Stop.” His arms tightened. “Stop and listen to me. I know you’re hurting. I know you’re in pain, and I know that’s not just the physical.”

I panted, trying to get my legs under me. I managed to lift myself about an inch.

“Fucking Fates, Sera,” the draken groaned. “At any other time, I’d find your strength impressive.”

The draken moved then, nearly lying completely on me. I grunted, going flat once more.

“Let’s try this again,” he said, shifting his head. A curtain of black and red hair fell over my face, tickling my whiskers. I opened my mouth. “You know—”

“Do not grab my hair, Sera. That would be rude,” he snapped.

I grabbed a mouthful of his hair and jerked. The draken swore, and for a moment, I thought I had him and twisted my head, preparing to shake him.

“You need to control your nota, Sera,” he growled. “If not for me, then for Ash.”

My muscles tensed as my jaw tightened around the thick strands of hair.

“He can feel all of this,” the draken said, his voice filling with gravel. “He’s been feeling everything you have, and he can’t come to you.”

Ash.

The name echoed in my head, followed by images of silvery eyes that warmed whenever he was with me. Ash. He was mine. My world. My King. My heart.

“You know what it’s doing to him.” The draken’s voice had lowered but thickened. “It’s eating him up. Cutting into him. I don’t want that happening to him.”

A loud whimper left me.

“I don’t want this happening to you.” His ragged breath stirred the fur of my neck. “Please, Sera. I’m here for you. Just like I promised. Remember? When we came back from the Pools? We don’t have to talk. You don’t even have to shift back if that’s not what you want, but I’m here for you. Remember?”

I…I remembered.

I wasn’t sure what got through to me. The reminder that Ash was feeling everything I was? Or the reminder of the promise Nektas had made on the road back to the palace from the Pools of Divanash. Whatever it was, I stopped fighting. I went limp, breathing heavily, the last of the fight-or-flight adrenaline leaving me.

“Can you do me a favor?” Nektas said after a moment. “And let go of my hair?”

Feeling guilt gather in the back of my throat, I spat out the mouthful of hair.

“Thank you.” He lifted his head, and after a moment, shifted his weight off me, but he didn’t let go. Several moments passed. “Sera?”

I made a chuffing sound as I stared forward. Through the open balcony doors, I saw that deep blue had begun to penetrate the night sky.

“There you are.”

I didn’t respond to that, just lay there, exhausted, my heart pounding. We remained that way until dawn broke. Eventually, Nektas sat up. With his back against the foot of the bed, he pulled my head into his lap. I didn’t look at him as I stared outside.

He ran his hand between my ears and continued stroking my fur, the ridges on his palm soothing. By the time he spoke, the sun had risen.

“You should eat something,” he said softly.

I wasn’t hungry.

Nektas seemed to sense the meaning behind my lack of response. “Okay. We’ll try again later.”

He stayed with me, continuing to run his fingers through my fur. My eyes closed when the sunlight began creeping over the shadowstone. I didn’t sleep. Instead, I played every decision I’d made since rising as a Primal over in my mind. Every choice that’d led me to this moment. Where had things gone so terribly wrong? Because I had played a role in what’d happened. I hadn’t listened to my instincts when it came to Kolis. I’d been too determined to be different. To be more like…like how I thought a Queen should be. How I thought Eythos would handle himself, even though I knew that, in the end, that had sealed his fate. Since I’d awakened, I’d tried to have…less knee-jerk reactions. I’d tried to be less impulsive. Less reckless. Less absurd. Less like who I was.

Less like a monster.

Less like…less like Kolis.

But as the day wore on, I…I accepted what I had always known. What even Nektas had known when he said the monstrous side of me could one day save me.

The truth was, I was like Kolis.

Maybe it was the embers I’d been born with. How I’d been raised. Maybe it was the training and the grooming. Maybe it was all the choices I’d made in my life that allowed me to act with cold violence on one hand and heal with the next. Or maybe it was because I’d been touched by life and death at birth. Perhaps that ensured I wouldn’t end up like Eythos. Too forgiving. Too hopeful. Too loyal. Because those things were just as bad as being too harsh and too unforgiving. Both blinded you in different ways.

The why didn’t matter.

Because, all along, I’d fought my instincts instead of learning when to listen to them and when to heed the counsel of others. I hadn’t truly had faith in myself.

And Ezra had paid that price. So did Marisol. My mother. Those Kyn and Embris had killed on Kolis’s orders.

And those I slaughtered when I tipped over that line between justice and vengeance—when I let myself be consumed by rage and sorrow that had built inside me for days, weeks, months, and years.

What happened wasn’t just the end result of Kolis’s actions. Or me trying to be better. What had Holland said? Maybe if you hadn’t held in all your pain, you wouldn’t have given in to it now. He’d never trained me to be a cold killer. He’d trained me to always be compassionate, even in death. I owed a part of what I’d done to all that anger—the fury, panic, and desperation I’d bottled up inside me.

This…this was as much Kolis’s fault as it was mine.

How would I live with that? I didn’t know.

At some point, I heard a quiet knock on the door. It was Rhain. He told us things were still quiet, before sharing that the Primal goddess Maia had entered the mortal realm to check on the state of things. That surprised me. It also bothered me. I should be there. The…how did Rhain put it? The event had subsided. He’d asked if I would eat. If he should try to bring the Healer in now. My body hurt, but I’d stopped bleeding, and there was no reason to send for the Healer, especially since I was still in my nota state. Aios came by. She sat with Nektas, petting my side. Like him, she didn’t talk. She didn’t leave until night fell and Rhain returned. I smelled food.

“Any word from the Pillars?” Nektas asked, keeping his voice low, even though I doubted he believed I was asleep.

“No,” Rhain answered. “I’ve never known it to take this long, but he shouldn’t be much longer.”

Nektas didn’t respond. We both knew why it had never taken this long. A Primal had never been killed in the mortal realm before. The death toll was…high.

It was Attes who delivered both relief and heartbreak.

He knelt beside Nektas and me, gently touching my jaw. “I went to Wayfair,” he said, fingers sinking into my fur. “I didn’t know which ones were your family, but I made sure all who were on the grounds were given burial rites.”

I nosed his hand, unable to even huff my gratitude. The pain and relief were too great. I slipped further into my nota, returning to the last time I’d seen them. How they’d looked. Ezra’s questions. Marisol’s smiles. My last conversation with my mother. The fragile hope that we could maybe repair our relationship. I stayed there with the future that should’ve been.

Nektas tried to get me to eat several times. I wasn’t hungry. He let it go, and silence reigned until the doors opened again. This time, it was small footsteps that neared us but then stopped.

“It’s okay,” Nektas said. “You can come closer. It will do some good.”

There was one set of footsteps, then another, much lighter pair.

“Sera?” Reaver called in a small voice. I lifted a paw. He took it and sat beside me. “Is…is she okay?”

Tiny hands landed near Nektas’s palm, fisting my fur. The smell of peaches and sugar reached me. “Sad,” Jadis whispered.

“Yes, she is sad,” Nektas answered.

I felt Jadis move closer and then her lips against the bridge of my nose. “There. Better.”

“I don’t think that works,” Reaver said solemnly.

“Uh-huh,” Jadis cried.

“She’ll be better,” Nektas assured them, somehow quieting them both with three words. “She will.”

Reaver lay beside me, still holding my paw. Jadis managed to get herself between him and me, curling into a little ball against my stomach. Their warmth calmed the unending rush of thoughts, allowing me to slip into quiet numbness.

Nektas stayed where he was. I didn’t know how he did it. He didn’t leave once. Not even to take care of personal needs. He stayed, simply stroking my head. No one else entered the chamber. No one tried to talk to me. I didn’t know how much time passed before my body and mind simply gave out. I fell asleep. I didn’t dream. There was just…nothing.

Until cool fingers threaded through my fur and the scent of citrus and fresh air reached me. “Liessa,” Ash called softly. “Come back to me.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Ash knelt before me, his fingers sifting through the fur beneath my chin as he lifted my head. Exhaustion was etched into the lines of his face and the shadows under his stunning eyes. “Please,” he said, the sound of his voice raw, several strands of shoulder-length hair slipping forward to kiss his jaw. “Please come back to me.”

His words were like magic. And as his gaze held mine, I willed myself to shift back into my mortal form with a shudder.

“Ash,” I rasped, my throat scratchy.

He made a sound that seemed to come from the depths of his soul. Gathering me in his arms, he sat back, pulling me between his legs and against his chest. Pain roared in the moment I returned to myself, and how tightly Ash held me didn’t help. But I ignored it, needing to be close to him. Neither of us spoke as he held me. As I clung to him. I had no idea where Nektas and the younglings had gone, but I knew we were alone.

I buried my face in the crook of his neck. I couldn’t seem to get close enough. I needed to feel his heart beating against my chest. When his arm loosened around my waist, I whimpered.

“Shhh,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m just getting you a blanket. You’re cold.”

A moment later, soft fur draped over my shoulders, and his arm returned to my waist. He clasped the back of my head, his fingers curling into the tangled strands of my hair.

“Sera,” he whispered, his large body trembling. He tightened his arms around me. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

My fingers clenched the soft linen of his shirt. The breath I took burned my throat and nose. The blanket slipped down my back as I started to pull away.

Ash’s inhale was rough and stunted as he stared at me. I didn’t know what had caused that reaction until I looked down. Under the dried blood, there were bruises up and down my arms, some of them still an ugly shade of purplish-red. Others were an array of blues. Strangely, my lower stomach was the only area I could see that didn’t appear marked. Though I wondered what my throat looked like based on how he was staring at it. But then his gaze lowered to my chest. The bruise there was one of those ugly shades, darker than the areola.

Ash became rigid, his flesh thinning. “He touched you.” The tendons in his neck stood out starkly. “He hurt you.”

I didn’t deny it. I didn’t say anything. I closed the distance between us and rested my cheek on his shoulder.

Ash didn’t move for what felt like an hour, but then he tugged the blanket back up and folded his arms around me again. He didn’t hold me as tightly, though. “I want a Healer to look you over. The bruises should be gone by now.”

“No.”

“Sera—”

“I don’t want a Healer. I’m fine. I just used a lot of eather.” My voice still sounded hoarse. “I would like a bath.”

Ash wasn’t happy about my choice, but he relented. “I can do that.” He kissed the top of my head. “Hold on.”

He rose, carrying me into the bathing chamber. I could’ve walked, but I didn’t protest. He set me on the ledge and then placed his hand in the now-cold water, heating it. I shrugged off the blanket and stepped in. A breathy sigh left me as I sank down and reached for the soap.

“Let me.” Ash had rolled up his sleeves. He took the soap, setting it aside before cupping his hands in the water.

Warm liquid cascaded over my skin, and I watched crimson ribbons swirl away from my body, staining the water. Ash’s hands were gentle, traveling across the planes of my back, washing away the blood.

He had to be exhausted. He likely wanted nothing more than to wash the last two days from his body, but he took his time, running his soapy hands down both of my arms. He took care with my hands and fingers, erasing any traces of blood that lingered. He didn’t speak, but so much was said in how he methodically rinsed my hair, his fingers combing through the tangled curls with a tenderness I didn’t feel I deserved. Each time the water turned pink with evidence of the night’s violence, he drained the tub, only to refill it with clear, clean warmth from the unused buckets that had been brought in. He washed every part of me twice, almost as if he sought to cleanse away more than just the physical evidence of all that had happened. It was like he was also trying to remove the stains upon my soul, offering absolution I was too shattered to ask for.

He lifted me from the tub, and I caught only a glimpse of my reflection as he dried me off. My face was a mess. Bruises marred the skin around my mouth, and my throat showed deep fingerprints.

Ash took me back into the bedchamber and placed me on the bed. He replaced the towel he had wrapped around me with a blanket made of soft-spun yarn.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, brushing his lips over my forehead. “Rest.”

I nodded, tucking my legs up under the blanket. He grabbed pants from the wardrobe, and I sat there, eyes glued to the bathing chamber. He left the door open, and I saw him strip down. His movements were quick. When he stepped out of my line of sight, I heard water splash. I knew he wouldn’t take nearly as long with himself.

I was right.

Within a handful of minutes, he was once more in the bedchamber, the loose cotton pants clinging to the skin he hadn’t dried thoroughly. Water still dripped from his hair when he came toward me, roughly rubbing the towel over his head.

“Ash?” I whispered.

He tossed the towel back into the bathing chamber, then started toward me but stopped as my anxiety spiked. “It’ll be okay, Sera.”

A tremor went through me. “How?”

“Because we will make it okay.”

It wasn’t that simple.

I forced myself to meet his gaze. It was hard. So many emotions and too many thoughts crowded every part of my being. “You know what I did?”

He didn’t look away as he sat on the floor a few feet from the bed. “I do.”

“How do we make that okay?” I asked, my heart rate picking up. “I—I can’t…”

“You can’t what?” he asked quietly.

I shook my head, pressure starting to build in my chest. “I…I can’t believe what I did.” The words tore at my chest, rattling me. “I can’t believe what I caused.”

Ash…flinched. “Liessa—”

“Part of the reason you were trapped at the Pillars for almost two days was because of what I did.”

“Sera, that’s—”

“It’s true.” Tears crowded my eyes, and I stood on numb legs, wrapping the blanket around me. “I lost control. I killed people—innocent people, Ash.”

Eather streaked across his eyes, and his body tensed. “You did.”

You did.

He wasn’t denying what I’d done. I didn’t want him to, but a small, childish part of me wanted him to be oblivious to it. How fucked up was that? I started to turn from him.

“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t shut down. We need to talk about this. No bullshit, Sera. No lies. No half-truths. No hiding.”

My lips trembled, and I pressed them together to stop them.

“Okay?” His eyes searched mine. “Sera?”

“Okay.” I closed my eyes. A storm of emotions brewing inside me, stirring the eather. “I…I should’ve listened to you. You said Kolis would do something terrible if he felt threatened. You were right. I knew you were right, and I should’ve listened, but I didn’t think he would do that.”

But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? I knew Kolis could be horrifically cruel.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” I admitted.

“Who would?” He looked up at me. “Who would want to believe he would do that?”

“Who would want to believe what I did?” My legs shook.

The air around us dropped several degrees when Ash’s anger rose to the surface. “What you did is not the same as what Kolis did.”

“I knew what would happen if I killed a Primal without there being another to take their place, and I still did it.” I opened my eyes, and eather gathered like a knot in my chest. “And if I had caught Kyn, I would’ve done the same to him.” My breath came in short, shallow pants. “Do you know I went to Dalos? I destroyed the Rise.”

Something close to pride filled his gaze.

I shook my head. “Don’t look at me like that. I killed every guard on the wall.”

“Guards loyal to Kolis, Sera.”

They had been, and the guilt I felt wasn’t for them. “I leveled Cor Palace. There were gods in there. Then I tore down the Sanctuary. I slaughtered gods who said they wouldn’t fight me. I destroyed his Ascended.”

“I know. There were Ascended at the Pillars.”

I flinched at the reminder that they still had souls—that many, if not all of them, would have never chosen their fates. My chest rose and fell rapidly. I searched for anger and disappointment in his features, but all I saw was sorrow. Compassion. Love.

I looked away from it. “Was there…?” I swallowed and pushed past my cowardice. “Were there Chosen at the Pillars? Kolis left them there. I…I didn’t know. I didn’t stop to even think about them.”

“I don’t know, and that is the truth,” he said. “There were many souls there. When that happened, the Pillars couldn’t perform their duty. I wrote many names, but I did not personally handle any Chosen. Rhahar could have.”

A shudder rocked me, and I lowered myself to the floor, needing to be closer to him. “I… When Embris died, it destroyed most of Terra. There were…entire villages were wiped out. Whole families. They were…” Images of their ash-encased bodies filled my mind, and I shook my head. “I brought them back without even thinking of the price. I saved them and, in the same breath, sentenced others to death. Even before that, when I first saw what they had done to—” My voice broke, and Ash tipped his head down, resting his forehead against mine. “I couldn’t control my rage. It became this tangible storm that continued to wreak havoc on those in Lasania—in Carsodonia. I don’t even know how many I killed tonight.”

“Does it matter?” His eyes met mine. “One is enough. You’ve said as much yourself. Whether it was ten, a hundred, or a thousand, it will not change how you feel right now.”

The weight continued pressing down on me. “Then tell me I was wrong. Tell me I fucked up! Tell me that—”

“I understand,” he cut me off. “That’s not what you want to hear, but it is what you need to hear.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “How can you understand what I did, Ash?” The pressure amplified. “How can you even stand to look at me?”

His eyes widened, and his skin thinned. The temperature dropped even more. “Are you…?” Eather swirled in his eyes, and shadows blossomed under his flesh. “Are you fucking serious right now? You’re honestly asking that question?”

“I am the true Primal of Life—”

“You are Seraphena Mierel!” His eyes flashed pure silver for a heartbeat, and the walls trembled, causing the chandelier to sway. “You are my wife. My fucking everything. I’ve told you this before, and it remains the same. There is nothing you could do that would ever change what I see or how I feel when I look at you.”

I sucked in a staggered breath. I knew that. Of course, I did.

“And I do understand what you did because, right or wrong, I would’ve done the same.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. You are better—”

“I am not better than that!” he shouted, pitching forward to plant his hands on the floor in front of him. For a moment, I thought he might take his wolf form. That was how he looked. “I am not better than you, Sera. You keep forgetting what I would’ve done if I’d lost you. I would’ve destroyed both realms. I would’ve become the end of everything, and the Fates know I wouldn’t have thought twice,” he snarled, his fangs bared. “Do you really think I didn’t try to kill Kolis after he murdered my father? I did. Even though I wasn’t powerful enough to do so, I fully intended to while knowing the consequences. I tried to kill him when he had you in Dalos, or did you forget that, too?”

I shivered. “I haven’t forgotten, Ash, but this isn’t the same, and you know it’s not.”

“What I know is that realms would be on fire if I had lost you,” he swore. “And even though you know that to be true, it does not change how you feel about me. Just because I have you doesn’t change what my intent would’ve been.” He took a deep breath, visibly attempting to calm himself. “I know what you want. What you think you need. You think you deserve to be punished. That something should be taken from you.”

“Would I be wrong?” I cried.

“Your guilt? Your remorse? It is choking me, so I know it must be suffocating you.” His voice cracked, and a glistening sheen of tears reflected in his eyes. “And I know it’s not going to be something that will magically disappear tomorrow. And there will be a tomorrow, Sera. There will be a thousand and more tomorrows. And I know your remorse will still be there with you no matter how many tomorrows there are. That is punishment enough.”

Was it, though?

He closed his eyes, and when they reopened, his lashes were damp. “What you did is not the same as Kolis.”