Текст книги "Born of Blood and Ash"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 63 страниц)

Surprise flickered through me. “What changed that?”

“You.”

I rocked back. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” His smile returned. “Because someone like you couldn’t love me if I were the sum of the worst things I’ve done.”

My breath caught as my emotions swelled. His features blurred. “I think I’m going to cry.”

“That is not the response I was going for.” Concern filled his tone as he rose slightly.

“It’s because you’re being sweet!” I exclaimed, blinking tears from my eyes. “And I don’t know why I’m so damn emotional. I was never this way until I met you. It’s annoying.”

Ash chuckled, relief easing into his features. “It’s cute.”

“I completely disagree with that statement,” I muttered, pulling myself together. “But back to the riders. They said I didn’t slay the monster, but I did wound it.”

A moment passed. “Did they find you worthy?”

“They did. So, I can now call on them if I want to end the realms.” I rolled my eyes. “Or something.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he remarked, earning a sidelong glance from me. “But I’m not surprised. Because what I’ve sensed in you is not cruelty, Sera. That is not what feeds this monster you speak of.”

I almost asked him what did but stopped myself. What Ash sensed in me now was totally influenced by how he felt about me, and I didn’t need my intuition to tell me that.

The truth was, Ash was right about some of the stuff he said. I wasn’t evil. Kolis, Kyn, and even Veses were. None of them had started out that way, but they’d become evil. Me? I felt like I was somewhere in the middle of good and evil, teetering on a fine line. And I couldn’t help but think that the true Primal of Life should be all good. Or, at the very least, mostly good.

Like Ash.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I…I was just thinking about you,” I said after a moment. “Like how your father wanted you to be the true Primal of Life. Everyone here wanted that.”

But something went wrong when Eythos struck that deal with the desperate Roderick Mierel and placed the embers and Sotoria’s soul in my bloodline. I wasn’t reborn as Sotoria, and the embers became mine. Those two things were only the start of what had gone sideways with Eythos’s plan.

“They were expecting me to Ascend to be the true Primal of Life, but I didn’t,” he said, propping his cheek up with a fist. “You did. There is no changing that, Sera.”

“I get that. I’m just…” Words I shouldn’t speak bubbled up. “I never desired to be a Queen or to rule anything or anyone.” I sat up then, pulling my knees to my chest. Ash followed suit as I said, “I never wanted that kind of power, and I still don’t. But I understand this cannot be changed. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to be a Queen, let alone the Primal of Life.”

Extending an arm, he brushed his fingers over the curve of my cheek. A faint charge of energy followed the contact. “Just be yourself.”

I barked out a short laugh. “Really? Do you think that’s good advice? Because being myself usually ends with me punching someone when they irritate me, and that doesn’t sound like queenly behavior.”

His lips twitched. “Depending on how irritating they are, I’m not sure I’d have a problem with that. But that’s not all you are.”

“Ah, yes. When I don’t want to punch someone, I’m panicking and thinking I can’t breathe,” I said as he tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear. “And yes, I know I’m saying this stuff because I’m anxious. But knowing that doesn’t mean I can stop myself from thinking it.” I huffed out an aggravated breath. “You’d think Ascending into the true Primal of Life would mean I wouldn’t have to deal with out-of-control anxiety anymore.”

“This anxiety?” he said. “I told you before that Lathan experienced something similar.”

My heart ached at the mention of the friend who’d been killed while watching over me in the mortal realm. Lathan used to experience the feeling of not being able to breathe before falling asleep as a child, leading him to believe it was the sekya. Obviously, that wasn’t the case. It had been all the things that lingered in the back of his mind, catching up to him when his thoughts were finally quiet—something I had firsthand experience with. The godling hadn’t grown out of it. He had simply learned to manage it. How? I wished I knew because not even my new ability of foresight spewed out the answer.

“It didn’t make him weak or somehow less than,” Ash continued. “As I told you before, he was as strong and recklessly brave as you are. The anxiety he had was just a part of him. Like it’s only another part of you.”

“There sure are a lot of parts to me,” I mumbled.

“But the rest of who you are?” he continued, skipping over my comment. “The rest of you is brave and strong. Clever, loyal, and far kinder than you give yourself credit for. You were more than worthy of being a Consort to the Shadowlands, and you are more than worthy of being the true Primal of Life and the Queen of the Gods.”

Giving his words time to sink in, I hoped they stuck. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for speaking the truth,” he said, slipping his fingers through the strands of my hair. “Nor should you ever feel like something is wrong with you—especially when it comes to this. Anyone would be nervous.”

“Would you?”

“Yes.”

The corners of my lips compressed as I shot him a sideways look.

“I would be, Sera. It’s a lot of responsibility to carry.” His fingers sifted through my hair some more. “It’s a lot of power.”

It was a lot of power. And authority that could be wielded in the worst ways. Kolis was proof of that. Still, anyone could fall prey to misuse. Common sense told me that my temperament would likely make me more vulnerable to such.

But it wasn’t merely an abuse of power where things could go wrong. It was also the failure to use that authority and know when and how. Would my intuition kick in and guide me? Or would that also be something I had to figure out? I didn’t know, and it all sort of terrified me.

“What are you thinking?” Ash asked quietly, curling strands of my hair around a finger.

“I…I don’t know.” My eyes closed. That was a lie. “I just don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“You won’t,” he stated without a second of hesitation.

“I feel like you have to say that.”

His forehead creased. “No, I don’t.”

“You’re my husband,” I pointed out. “So, yes, you do.”

“I want to be supportive because I’m your husband. Not because I have to,” he corrected, and I thought I melted a little right there. “And while I don’t know much about relationships, I think I know enough to recognize that lying to you isn’t being supportive.”

I didn’t know much about relationships either, but I thought he was right.

“I know they will not be disappointed in you, Sera.” He tugged gently on the strand of hair he toyed with. “Ask me how I know.”

“How do you know?”

“You have these knee-jerk reactions when it comes to your well-being,” he said. “Reacting first and thinking about all the possible consequences afterward.”

I started to frown because none of that really sounded like a good personality trait.

“But you don’t when it concerns others,” he said.

That wasn’t always true.

“You thought about it,” he continued, “taking what you felt and what the realms may need, and met it halfway. That is how you have earned respect and loyalty from the gods here, Sera. You’ve done so by fighting beside them to defend the Shadowlands more than once and risking yourself to keep them and their home safe.”

“I only did what any halfway-decent person would do.”

“Most people, be they god or mortal, say they would be the hero and ignore their instinct for self-preservation to rush in and defend others. Even good people believe that about themselves. But the truth is, their instinct for self-preservation is too great. What they say they would do is not what they will do. It’s only what they have convinced themselves.” He touched my cheek. “So, no. You didn’t do what any half-decent person would do. You did far more despite the monstrous parts you may have. You always have.”

I looked away, feeling my cheeks warm at his unwarranted praise. The way he saw me was a version of myself I wanted to live up to.

“I’m going to ask you what you asked me before,” he said, pulling me from my thoughts. “What will you do about the Chosen?”

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Yes. Seriously. The Chosen were something you were clearly concerned about before. You are now in a position to change how things are done once Kolis is dealt with.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but the realization that I would be able to do something about the Chosen struck me silent. He wasn’t asking to hear my irrelevant, at-the-end-of-the-day opinion.

Gods, this felt far more real than being summoned to prove myself worthy to the riders.

I tightened my arms around my legs as my mind bounced all over the place. “I…I saw some of the Chosen while in Dalos. Some appeared to be in positions where they served the gods. They still wore white and remained veiled. Others didn’t.” I could still see Jacinta and the god, Evan, that Kolis had manipulated me into killing—easily. He’d manipulated me. I swallowed. “Kolis said he gave the Chosen a choice: remain cloistered and be Ascended, or not. Those who chose not to act as servants could spend time with others. I didn’t see any being forced to be intimate, but I also knew they weren’t valued. I saw Callum kill one without hesitation. So, I know that just because I didn’t see anyone being treated poorly, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t happening.”

“I believe Kolis spoke the truth about giving them a choice,” Ash said. “But I’ve seen the limitations of that choice with my own eyes.”

I nodded. Too many had seen it for themselves. And then there was Gemma, one of the Chosen Ash had rescued. She had been so traumatized by what she’d experienced in Dalos that after spotting a god from there, she’d panicked and run into the Dying Woods, nearly losing her life. Actually, she did lose her life. I’d brought her back.

A lot of evil happened in Dalos that I hadn’t been able to see.

“But it will not be that way under your rule,” Ash pointed out. “If you choose to continue with the Rite.”

I thought about it. “My immediate answer is to end it. As I said before, what the Chosen go through before they are brought to Iliseeum is bad enough. But you said it wasn’t always that way.” I lifted my gaze to him. “Right?”

“Right,” he confirmed. “When my father ruled, the Chosen were not prevented from interacting with others, and they only went to the Temples the year of their Ascension, where they were taught the customs of Iliseeum.”

Customs of Iliseeum? I hadn’t really seen any of them, but I figured they were something else that went out the window during Kolis’s reign. “You also said that the purpose of bringing in the Chosen and Ascending them to godhood was to ensure there were always gods serving in each Court that remembered what it was like to be mortal.”

Ash nodded.

“And that is necessary.” I folded an arm across my now-unsettled stomach. “So, I think I would continue with the Rite, but only if the third sons and daughters choose to be Ascended.” A thread of excitement wove its way through me. “Like they would have until the year they would’ve entered the Temples under your father’s rule to decide if that is what they want.”

“Okay.”

“And they could change their minds at any time,” I added. “Well, up until the point they Ascend—wait.” My eyes widened. “That means I would have to Ascend them.”

“It does.”

“Do you know how your father Ascended them?” I asked, wondering if what Kolis had said was true.

“The same way I Ascended you,” he answered.

Another thing Kolis hadn’t lied about.

“As for the Rite, that’s how I thought you would answer,” Ash said. “That is also why I know you will do right by Iliseeum and the mortal realm,” he said. “I will not be the only one who sees this.”

I nodded slowly, my heart thumping. Perhaps now that there was a true Primal of Life, the other Primals would be more likely to end their support of Kolis.

His gaze flickered over my face. “But you have to see it, too.”

Gods. I wanted to believe that, as well as everything else he’d said, but it was hard. And I spent far too many years feeling like a disappointment to my family. It’d become what I expected. I wanted to have the kind of faith in myself that Ash had in me. I needed to try, though. If I didn’t, I would mess up.

I would be that monster.

“Liessa,” Ash called softly.

I turned my head toward him. “I know you said I shouldn’t say this, but I’m going to anyway. Thank you.”

Ash sighed.

I fought a grin as I tucked my chin against my knees, but I could feel his gaze on me. He was worried, likely sensing that I didn’t carry the same level of faith in myself and wanted to push. It was time to change the subject. “This was an entirely too-serious conversation to have while naked. Good thing none of that matters. You know what does?” I latched onto the first non-related thing that popped into my mind.

“I have a feeling whatever you’re about to say won’t matter more than what I have to say,” he replied.

“That’s rude. And you’re also wrong.”

“Prove it.”

“Your cock.”

Ash leaned away, his mouth open, though he was clearly at a loss for how to respond.

“It’s bigger when you’re in your Primal form,” I continued.

He blinked. “Is it? I never noticed.”

“Really?” I replied dryly. “It’s noticeably bigger, Ash. There’s no need for modesty.”

He chuckled, and I started to relax the moment I heard it. “Now I’m curious as to which cock you prefer.”

“I don’t know,” I teased, unfurling my legs. “I’ll have to think about that before I make up my mind.”

“You can do that.” Ash’s hand landed on my side, then slid to my hip. His gaze followed. His grip firmed. “But I have a better idea.”

“And what is that?”

Ash shifted onto his back and lifted me so I straddled him. “I can help you make up your mind.”

I gasped, feeling him harden beneath me. And then he helped. Or at least he tried. There was no choosing between his two forms.

Both were perfect.

I stood alone, eyes closed, taking in the silence of the bathing chamber after cleaning myself in the water Ash had reheated.

As determined as I was to be responsible, I had failed gloriously. Ash and I had spent most of the day in bed once again, and the only things we’d accomplished were sleeping and sex. The sky had darkened before we finally decided to get it together.

Ash had left to find some food—thank the gods. I was starving. Not much time had passed, but he hadn’t yet returned. I figured that whoever was currently present in the House of Haides wanted to know what had happened overnight and hear from Ash himself that I was not only awake but also fully aware of who I was.

Which was Seraphena Mierel, daughter of King Lamont and Queen Calliphe. A once-unnamed Princess and the savior of a kingdom that never knew I existed. A blank canvas—part assassin and part seductress. A figure of hope and of failure. But I couldn’t be her any longer. Now, I just had to be me.

A wife.

The Queen.

And the true Primal of Life.

Kolis must be infuriated.

At the thought of the Primal of Death, red-hot anger pounded through me, mingling with the eather. Energy surged, crackling and hissing through my veins like lightning. The intensity of the power caused my breath to catch. I’d gotten used to the ebb and flow of eather, and even its intense force the handful of times I’d tapped into the essence of the Primals, but what I felt pulsing through me now was something else entirely. It was a storm of near-absolute power, hot and endless like the very sun itself. The air in the bathing chamber charged, causing my skin to hum. The rush of energy felt destructive, capable of creating true chaos if unleashed.

But I didn’t think the Primal of Life was meant to be a being of chaos and destruction, so I drew in a deep breath and held it. I willed my heart to slow because far more dangerous, stifling emotions simmered beneath the fury.

“I’m not there,” I reminded myself, gripping the edge of the vanity. “I’m not Kolis’s willing prisoner any longer. I will never be that again.”

And dwelling on my time with Kolis—my time in Dalos—served no purpose when I needed to focus on figuring out what to do about the Primal of Death. He couldn’t be killed. Not without a god of his original Court to Ascend. And even though Ash carried embers of death, he didn’t count.

In the quiet, I searched the library of knowledge erected in my mind during stasis. There was so much information there—almost too much. Like I now fully understood why Ash and the other Primals and gods often fought with weapons instead of the Primal essence. Using that raw energy against one another impacted the realms, usually manifesting as severe weather events. The impact wasn’t always immediate, but whenever it was used against another, it would build and build until the realms could no longer contain the energy. The effect and consequences wouldn’t be as severe as Primals using it against one another, but there was still a price to be paid in blood.

And that was good to know. Obviously. But randomly realizing such things made it harder for me to focus on single items.

However, even if I could focus better, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing came to me. No weird feelings. No answers for how to stop Kolis without destroying the realms. Sudden knowledge didn’t simply pop into my head. There was just a void of humming whiteness and questions that only led to more confusion.

There had to be more to Eythos’s plan. He wouldn’t have risked the destruction of the realms by creating—albeit failing at—the only weapon that could kill Kolis without knowing something could be done about the embers of death.

But even if we figured out a way, it required using Sotoria. Again. And, gods, she deserved to be at peace. Not forced to be reborn yet again, only to be used as a tool with no autonomy. I’d lived that life, and I didn’t know if I could be a part of allowing another to do so. Especially someone who had already been forced to live far too many lives.

Kolis and what to do with Sotoria weren’t the only things I needed to figure out, though. I also needed to learn how to, well, act like an actual Queen and be the true Primal of Life.

To find the faith Ash had in me, within myself. To be better. Less monstrous and…knee-jerky.

And not do what I desperately wanted to do, which was find Ash and demand that we seize Dalos and lay waste to any Primal who stood against us—especially Kyn for what he had done to Ector, Orphine, Aios, and so many others.

Eather thrummed beneath the surface as I closed my eyes. I could do it, too. I could Ascend gods in their Courts to replace those who fell, ensuring minimal impact to the mortal realm. I could take control, releasing the Chosen and any draken Kolis had forced into servitude.

But that was the part of me I hadn’t slain talking.

Doing something like that would start a bloody war. Innocent gods and draken in the Shadowlands and throughout Iliseeum would die. It would spill over into the mortal realm, costing countless lives.

And as the true Primal of Life, none of that should feel as right as it did.

But as Ash had said, there was no changing this. And he was right. I didn’t need intuition to tell me there would be no abdicating the throne. There would be no period of adjustment. This was my present and future, and there wasn’t time to pretend that my entire existence and that of the realms hadn’t changed—or freak out in a spiral of self-doubt.

So, I needed to be…well, less like the version of me who could lie as easily as I could kill. I couldn’t continue being the temperamental, anxiety-ridden mess I was. Sure, Ash accepted all of that, even the part where I had attempted to kill him. He accepted me. But this was bigger than me—than us. I had the gods to think of now. The draken. Mortals. I needed to be better.

And standing in a bathing chamber with my eyes closed while giving myself the worst pep talk in history wasn’t where I should have started.

Taking another deep breath, I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was the golden swirl of the marriage imprint on the top of my right hand. The sight helped to calm me. I lifted my gaze to the mirror.

Oh, dear.

My hair was a nearly silver, pale-blond nightmare. Wet, tangled curls and waves fell past my shoulders, brushing the curve of my waist. I was so not looking forward to attempting to brush out the knots. My gaze shifted to my face. I looked the same as I had before: freckled, stubborn jaw, slightly pointy chin, arched brows. But the pallor and bruises I had while in Dalos were gone.

I lifted my upper lip to reveal two canines barely longer than before. Tentatively, I prodded at one of them with my tongue and immediately winced as I nicked it. They were definitely sharper, even if they were, at least according to Ash, small.

Nothing else had changed about me except for the fangs—

“Holy gods,” I whispered, my lips parting in surprise.

The fangs weren’t the only thing that was different about me. My eyes had changed, too. I leaned in closer to the mirror as if that would somehow change what I saw.

It didn’t.

I looked past the glow behind my pupils. The aura had been there leading up to my Ascension, so that wasn’t unexpected.

My eyes were still green—well, sort of. Streaks of silver now splintered the irises, giving them an almost shattered effect.

I blinked once and then several times, but the shimmery lines of silver remained. My heart rate kicked up, and the streaks and flecks brightened.

How had Ash and Nektas not mentioned this?

I pushed back from the vanity and forced a dry swallow. “Well. Okay, then.” I nodded jerkily. “This…this is also who I am now. I can deal with it.” My chin lifted. “I will deal.”

And I would.

Because I had to.

The realms depended on it.