A_Shadow_in_the_Ember_Amazon

by Armentrout, Jennifer L.

  “Intense?”

  A strangled laugh left me. “Yeah.” I scooted to the edge of the settee. “Sorry,” I mumbled, thinking he probably didn’t appreciate me using him as a pillow. “About sleeping on you.”

  “It’s okay,” Nyktos said after a moment, and I looked over at him. He was staring ahead, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t mean to sleep, but you needed the rest. Both of us did.” He rose then, looking down at me. “If Nektas sent him, that means the Fates answered.”

  My heart tripped over itself, and I stood so rapidly I got dizzy. I stepped back, bumping into the settee.

  Nyktos reached out, placing his hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes searched mine. “Do you have a headache?”

  “N-No. I think I just stood up too fast.”

  Nyktos stared down at me. “I think it’s the blood.” A muscle ticked along his jaw. “Too much has been taken from you. Your body hasn’t had a chance to replenish.”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted as I started to step away but stopped, taking in the tightness of his features. “Don’t feel bad about feeding from me.”

  He was quiet.

  “You needed the blood. I’m glad I could do that for you,” I told him. “If I’m a little dizzy because of blood loss, that’s on Taric. Not you.”

  Still, he said nothing.

  I was starting to feel a bit foolish. Perhaps I had misread him. “Anyway, I just wanted to make that clear. We should get going—”

  The only warning I got was the scent of citrus and fresh air. I hadn’t even seen him close the distance between us, but I felt his palm against my cheek, and his mouth on mine in the same heartbeat.

  Nyktos kissed me.

  The feel of his lips—his warm lips—was a heady shock, and the way he tugged at my lower lip with his fangs sent tiny, hot shivers through me. I opened for him, kissing him back just as fiercely as his mouth moved against mine. The way he kissed me was hard, demanding. Claiming. He sent my senses spinning. I was dizzy again, but this time, it was all because of him. The kiss left me rattled, and I didn’t want him to stop. I started to reach for him—

  Nyktos lifted his mouth from mine and stepped back, his hand lingering on my cheek before falling away. He looked as shaken as I felt, his features stark, eyes a storm of eather, his chest moving in deep, rapid breaths.

  “That…” Nyktos swallowed, briefly closing his eyes. When they reopened, the eather had slowed. “That changes nothing.”

  Nyktos’ words lingered just like his kiss did as we left his office and walked to the throne room.

  There was a twisting motion in my chest as if someone had reached inside and started squeezing my heart. But there was something else at my core. Something small and faint that reminded me of hope. I didn’t know what to make of either emotion, but as we neared the chamber, I shoved those feelings aside to dwell on later.

  Rhahar and Ector stood at the archway of the chamber. They were not alone. An unfamiliar man stood with them, his sandy-blond hair brushing broad shoulders adorned in a belted, light gray tunic. His face was weathered and sun-warmed. Beside him stood a goddess. I knew what she was at once. It was the ethereal quality of her features and the faint luminous glow under her light brown skin. Her hair was the color of honey, a few shades lighter than the gown she wore, and her eyes were the brightest blue I’d ever seen. As we approached, the man placed a hand over his heart and bowed at the waist, as did the goddess.

  “Penellaphe?” Surprise filled Nyktos’ tone.

  “Hello, Nyktos.” She straightened, stepping forward. She glanced briefly in my direction. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”

  “Too long,” he confirmed. “I hope all is well?”

  “I am.” Penellaphe’s smile was brief, fading as she looked at me again.

  Nyktos followed her gaze. “This is—”

  “I know who she is,” Penellaphe cut in, and my brows lifted. “She is why I’m here.”

  “I am?”

  She nodded, looking back to Nyktos. “You summoned the Arae.”

  “I did, but…”

  “But I am not the Arae. You’ll understand why I’ve come,” she said, stepping back. Her hands clasped together. “One of the Arae waits inside for you. For both of you.”

  Curiosity marked Nyktos’ face as he looked over at me. I nodded and Penellaphe turned to the male. “Wait for us here?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he answered.

  She inclined her head. “Thank you, Ward.”

  I peeked over at him as we passed. I couldn’t tell if he was a godling or a mortal, but I didn’t see any aura in his eyes. Rhahar and Ector moved aside as Penellaphe drifted past them. I picked up my pace as Nyktos glanced over his shoulder, his steps slowing. I caught up with him, entering the now-candlelit chamber.

  Nektas approached us, his long hair tied back, and Reaver at his side.

  “Thank you.” Nyktos paused to clasp the draken’s shoulder.

  “We will wait for you in the hall,” Nektas answered, nodding in my direction as he put a hand on the back of Reaver’s head, ushering the young boy forward. “We will wait for both of you.”

  A knot formed in my throat. I didn’t know why. Maybe it was because Nektas had acknowledged me. I swallowed hard, looking toward the thrones and the dais. Maybe I just needed more sleep or—

  Everything in me stopped. My legs refused to move. My head emptied because what I was seeing—who I saw standing before the dais, cast in the soft light of the candles and the stars—brought me up short. It made no sense. None at all. My eyes had to be playing tricks on me.

  Because it couldn’t be Sir Holland.

  Chapter 45

  “I don’t understand,” I whispered, moving once more and then stopping a few feet from Sir Holland.

  “You know him?” Nyktos had shifted closer as he stared down at the man before us.

  “She does,” Sir Holland confirmed, his dark eyes searching mine. “I’ve known her for most of her life.”

  “He trained me,” I whispered. I wanted to touch him to see if he was real, to hug him. but I couldn’t move. “It’s Sir Holland. I don’t understand how this is possible.”

  “You can just call me Holland,” he told me. “That is my name.”

  “But you’re…why are you here?” Confusion pounded through me as Penellaphe glided past him, entering the airy chamber. “Are you a viktor?”

  “No. That honor is not mine,” he said.

  “He’s here because he’s a Spirit of Fate,” Nyktos stated coldly. “He’s an Arae. One who’s apparently been masquerading as a mortal.” He eyed Holland. “Now I understand how you had knowledge of a certain potion.”

  “He’s not a spirit.” To confirm this mostly for myself, I reached out and pressed a finger against the rich brown skin of his arm.

  “Spirits of Fate—the Arae—are like gods.” Nyktos reached over, pulling my hand away from Holland. “They are not like the spirits near your lake.”

  Holland’s gaze followed Nyktos’ hand, one side of his lips curving up.

  Stunned, all I could do was stare. That pragmatic part of my mind kicked in. Out of everyone, Holland had always believed…he had always believed in me. His unwavering faith now made sense. It was still a shock, but after learning the truth about Kolis, I knew I could process this. I could understand. And the knowledge that he was okay helped. Tavius hadn’t done something terrible to him. So many questions rose. Mainly, I wanted to ask if he’d always known that I could never fulfill my duty, but I recognized that now was so not the time for that. “So, you weren’t sent to the Vodina Isles?”

  “I was, but I didn’t go,” he answered. “I knew my time in the mortal realm had come to an end. I came here to wait.”

  “Because you knew we…we would come to speak to you?”

  He nodded.

  That was…well, unnerving. How much did Holland know? More
than I probably wanted him to. I swallowed.

  A thought occurred to me. “This is why you never seemed to age.”

  “It wasn’t the liquor,” he said.

  “No shit,” I murmured.

  Penellaphe laughed as she came to stand beside Holland, the gown settling around her feet in a puddle of silk. “Is that what he said?”

  I nodded, staring at the man I’d considered the closest thing to a friend. A man I’d trusted. Someone who wasn’t mortal. I didn’t know yet if I should feel betrayed or not. “There is…there has been a lot I haven’t understood, but this, I really don’t get.”

  “I think I might know,” Nyktos said, drawing my gaze. He was watching Holland as if he were a few minutes away from pitching him through the open ceiling. “The nursemaid spoke the truth. The Arae had been present upon her birth and you, being one of the Arae, learned of the deal somehow and took the place of the one who was supposed to train her.” He paused. “To kill me.”

  “To kill,” Holland corrected.

  “Did it not occur to you to inform her of the pointlessness behind that endeavor?” Nyktos demanded, and I was glad he’d brought it up.

  “I couldn’t. All I could do was train her.”

  “I should thank you for that part,” Nyktos replied, and I could already tell that wouldn’t happen. “But you’re Arae. You’re not allowed to intervene in fate.”

  “He didn’t.” The goddess smiled, and Nyktos shot her an incredulous look. “Not technically,” she amended.

  “I never directly interfered,” Sir Holland said, and I really needed to stop thinking of him as a knight when he was basically a god. “That’s why I couldn’t tell you who I was or that the Rot wasn’t tied to the deal. If I did, then it would have been considered interference. I was pushing it when I gave you the tea.”

  “You were pushing it by even being around her. So, it sounds an awful lot like semantics.” Nyktos folded his arms over his chest. “Does Embris know about this? Of your involvement?”

  My heart skipped. That was why Nyktos didn’t sound exactly thrilled by this reveal. If Embris knew, the Primal could tell Kolis about me.

  “If I had truly intervened, he would have known. But he’s currently unaware of the deal and who the source of power is.”

  “Wait. How is that possible?” I asked, realizing something I hadn’t before. “If the Arae answer to his Court, how could he not know about the deal—about everything?”

  “Because the Arae don’t answer to Embris. They just live there,” Nyktos explained, angling his body so that the side of his hips brushed my arm. “Fate answers to no Primal.”

  “Unless we overstep,” Holland tacked on. “By directly interfering.”

  I had to agree with Nyktos that it sounded like semantics, but I had more pressing questions. “Why did you even get involved? You were with me for so long. The number of years…” Did he not have a family? Friends? Those he missed? Or had he gone back and forth?

  “It was a long time,” Penellaphe spoke up. “Those years were a very long time.”

  “I did it because I knew I needed to. It wasn’t easy, being gone for so long and so often, but this was bigger than me. Bigger than all of us.” Holland leaned against a pillar and lifted his gaze to Nyktos. “I did it because I knew your father. I knew him when he was the true Primal of Life. I considered him a friend.”

  I glanced up at Nyktos, but nothing could be gained from his expression. “Did you know what was to become of him?” he asked.

  Holland shook his head. “No. The Arae cannot see the fate of a risen Primal.” Grief crept into his voice. “If I could have, I don’t know if I would still be sitting here today. I don’t…I don’t think I could’ve sat by and done nothing.”

  My brows knitted together. “You would’ve intervened? What is the punishment for that?”

  “Death,” Nyktos answered. “The final kind.”

  I shuddered as my gaze swung back to him. Fear rose. “Is it okay that you’re here?” I felt the brush of Nyktos’ fingers against mine. The touch surprised me, but the soft hum of contact was calming. “Should you leave?”

  “The Arae can do nothing to intervene in your fate,” Penellaphe advised. “Not anymore.”

  Her words…they felt like an omen, leaving me chilled.

  “Then you know why we summoned you. Can you tell us why my father did this?” Nyktos asked. “Why he would put such power into a mortal bloodline—what he hoped to accomplish from that?”

  “The better question is what your father did exactly,” Holland countered. “As you know, your father was the true Primal of Life. Kolis couldn’t take everything. That would be impossible. Embers of life still remained in Eythos, just as embers of death remained in Kolis. And when you were conceived, part of that ember passed onto you. Just a flicker of the power. Not as strong as the ember that remained in your father, but enough.”

  Nyktos shook his head. “No,” he said. “I never had that ability. I have always been this—”

  “You wouldn’t have known if you had that ember until you went through the Culling. But your father took that ember from you before Kolis could learn that you had it in you,” Holland explained. “Eythos knew that Kolis would’ve seen you as even more of a threat. One that his brother would’ve extinguished.”

  Nyktos’ eyes began to churn slowly. “My father…” He cleared his throat, but his voice was still hoarse. “He took it from me to keep me safe?”

  My heart squeezed as Holland nodded. “He took that ember, along with what remained in him, and put it in the Mierel bloodline.” Dark eyes focused on me. “That is what is in you. What remained of Eythos’s power and what had passed on to Nyktos.”

  I opened my mouth, but I was at a loss for words. Nyktos’ equally shocked gaze met mine. “I…I have a part of him in me? And his father?”

  “You have the essence of his power,” Penellaphe said, and my head swung back to her.

  “That still sounds really weird…and uncomfortable,” I said.

  Penellaphe glanced away, her lips twitching before her gaze met mine. “That does not mean you have a part of Nyktos or his father in you or that it would somehow make you some sort of a descendant,” she confirmed—and thank the gods for that because I was about a second away from vomiting a little in my mouth. “You just have the essences of their powers. It’s like…how do I explain this?” Her brow wrinkled as she glanced at Holland. “It’s like when a god Ascends a godling. The godling shares their blood, but they are not related to that god or any of that god’s bloodline. The only thing that could happen is the essence could…recognize its source.”

  “What—what does that mean?” I asked.

  “This would be even harder to explain, but I imagine it’s a lot like two souls meant to be one, each finding the other.” She was looking at Holland again, and my heart gave another leap. “Both of you may have felt more comfortable around each other than you would others.”

  The breath I took was thin as I leaned back against the dais. There was no denying that I had felt far more comfortable around Nyktos than I did anyone else. That I never really feared him. “I…I felt this…warmth in me when I first saw you. A rightness.” I twisted toward Nyktos. “Not the night in the Shadow Temple, but in The Luxe. I never said anything because I wasn’t even sure what I was feeling, and it sounded silly. But the night in The Luxe, I had a…a hard time walking away from you. It felt wrong. I didn’t understand it.” I turned back to Holland and Penellaphe. “Could that be why?”

  “And here I thought it was my charming disposition,” Nyktos muttered under his breath. I shot him an arch look. “I felt something similar. A warmth. A rightness. I…I didn’t know what it meant.”

  My eyes widened. “You did?”

  He nodded.

  “As I said, it would be like two souls shaped for one another coming together,” Penellaphe said.

  Two souls coming together. Was that why I interested Nyktos so muc
h, despite his intentions to never fulfill the deal? Why he was able to find peace in my presence? Could it also explain why I had been drawn to him even when I believed I had to end him? For me, maybe in the beginning. But now? I didn’t think so. It was him—who he was. His strength and intelligence. His kindness, despite all that he’d seen and surely suffered. His loyalty to his people—those he cared for. It was how ending a life still affected him. It was how he made me feel. That, for the briefest moments, I wasn’t a monster. That I was someone. Me. Not whatever I had been shaped into.

  But for Nyktos? It really didn’t matter. He knew what I’d planned. Whatever had guided his interest was irrelevant. “And you don’t know why my father did this? What he thought it could achieve?”

  “I had a…prophetic vision before your father struck this deal with a mortal King,” Penellaphe stated, sending a ripple of surprise through me. “It had never happened before, so I didn’t understand what I saw. I didn’t understand the words in my mind, but I knew they carried a purpose. That they were important. Especially when I told Embris, and he took me to Dalos.” She swallowed thickly. “Kolis questioned me quite extensively.”

  I tensed, having a feeling her questioning was more like an interrogation—a painful one.

  “It was as if Kolis believed he could somehow force an understanding out of me. A clarification.” She shook her head. “As if I were hiding knowledge from him. But I couldn’t make sense of what I saw or heard.”

  “That’s not how they work—visions and prophecies. They are rare and the receivers of them are only messengers. Not scribes.” Holland reached over, taking her hand in his. He squeezed, and I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something between them. I’d never known him to be with anyone, but obviously, there was a lot I hadn’t known.

  “Kolis eventually gave up.” Some of the shadows cleared from Penellaphe’s eyes as she smiled at him. “Afterwards, I went to Mount Lotho. I figured if anyone could make any sense of it, it would be the Arae.”