Nektas lifted a brow.

“We were having a discussion,” Ash tacked on. “Where we disagreed.”

Laughing under his breath, Nektas sat beside us. “You’re both right and wrong.”

I drew back. “You heard us.”

“Anyone near the veranda heard you two.”

“Oh.” My cheeks flushed as I glanced at the swaying curtains.

Ash folded his arm over my waist again. “What you meant to say is that I was right, and she was wrong.”

I shot him a glare over my shoulder. “That is not what he said.”

He glanced down at me. “It’s what I heard.”

“Then there’s something wrong with your hearing.”

“Is this a continuation of the discussion where you two were not arguing but disagreeing?” Nektas asked.

“Yes,” Ash and I snapped at the same time.

“At least you can agree on that.”

“I was simply telling him that he needs to take the embers,” I began.

“Not to sound repetitive,” Ash said, “but I disagree.”

“Oh, my fucking gods.”

“Now, you’re just being sacrilegious.”

 I glared at him.

His lips twitched.

“That wasn’t even funny.”

Ash opened his mouth.

“If you say disagree again, I cannot be held accountable for my actions—my extremely violent actions.”

“As I was saying,” Nektas jumped in again, a lock of crimson-streaked hair sliding over his shoulder as he tilted his head. His eyes met mine. “You’re right. Ash cannot afford to weaken himself. But,” he said before Ash could intervene, “he only gave you a little of his blood. Not nearly enough to have stopped this inevitability.”

I snapped my mouth shut.

“I think it was more like his sheer will made it so you woke up,” Nektas continued.

His sheer will?

“And is waking up in the arms of the one you care so deeply for a waste of time? There is nothing I would not give to have one more moment with Halayna.”

My breath snagged at the raw honesty and lingering pain in his voice. I twisted toward Ash. “I don’t think any extra time with you is a waste. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know.” Ash cupped my cheek.

“But Sera doesn’t have much more of that precious time,” Nektas said quietly. “And that cannot be denied. I can feel it.” He placed a hand against the coppery skin of his chest. “Scent it.”

My upper lip curled. “You can…smell it?”

“The body goes through natural changes when it begins to die. That is something we can smell,” he explained. I thought about the last time he’d said I smelled like death. Had I smelled like this the whole time? “And we can sense the fading of the embers.”

I looked at where Ehthawn rested and thought about the low, mournful sound I’d heard him make.

“So can Ash,” Nektas continued. “So can any Primal who is near you.”

Reaching down, I folded my hand over the arm at my waist.

Nektas lifted his ruby eyes to Ash. “You know what has to be done. And soon.”

Ash was completely still behind me. I didn’t even feel him breathe. “I do.”

Briefly squeezing my eyes shut, I leaned against Ash’s chest. There was so much I wanted to say, but most of it would only make things worse. I knew that.

I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about Orphine.”

“As am I.”

Glancing at Ehthawn, I wished there was more I could say than that, but there truly weren’t words in any language that could capture the sorrow felt after a death. “How…how is Jadis? Reaver?”

Nektas’s handsome features softened. “They are good. Safe. Reaver has asked for you, and my daughter often searches for you.” His smile was sad. “I think she misses sleeping on your legs.”

My lips trembled, and I pressed them together as Ash folded his other arm over my chest. Would Jadis even remember that? What about Reaver? The knot tripled in size. My nose burned, and it took several moments for me to speak. “I…I’ve missed that,” I rasped. “I miss both of them.”

“I know,” Nektas said solemnly.

I met his gaze and tried to say more. What, exactly, I wasn’t even sure, but I couldn’t get anything out. The draken’s face blurred, and I tried to find that veil of nothingness because I didn’t want Ash feeling any of what I was. I didn’t want Nektas seeing it.

Nektas reached for me. His skin was so warm as he placed my hand between his palms. He said nothing as he drew it to his chest, pressing it over where I felt his heart beat—felt two beats, almost side by side. Then he returned my hand to Ash’s. His cool fingers threaded through mine. I blinked a couple of times, letting my head fall back against Ash’s chest.

Nektas turned to the doors and rose as Keella walked out onto the veranda, followed by Attes.

Icy air blasted off Ash when he saw Attes.

“I don’t want to intrude,” Attes announced, his steps slowing.

“But you’re going to,” Ash replied coolly.

“I wouldn’t if I could.” Attes approached us as Keella stayed back. My gaze dropped to the leather saddlebag gripped tightly in his hand. “How are you feeling, Seraphena?”

Ash couldn’t be more rigid if he tried. “I’m okay,” I said.

His smile was more of a grimace. “Why do I have a feeling you say that when it’s not true?”

“Because she does.” Ash’s palm flattened against my hip. “But knowing that won’t stop you.”

“Unfortunately, no,” Attes admitted quietly. “We need to take care of Sotoria’s soul.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that soul,” Ash snarled, shadows pressing against the flesh of the arm he had around my waist.

“But you need to care,” Attes began.

Ash’s head whipped toward the other Primal. “Was I not clear?” His voice vibrated with rage—his entire body did. But he held me so carefully, as if I were made of nothing more than fragile, spun glass.

“Ash,” I said, twisting toward him.

“I know she’s important.” Attes inched closer, speaking before I could continue. “I know she’s very important to you.”

The churning wisps of eather stilled in Ash’s eyes. He lifted his gaze from mine and slowly turned his head to the Primal. The look he gave the Primal of War and Accord could freeze a soul.

Attes was undaunted. “And I remember what that’s like. It fucking haunts me,” he said. I thought of the children he’d lost. “I’ve been told you had your kardia removed. In all honesty, I find that hard to believe, all things considered.” He shot a pointed look at Ash. “However, if that’s true, you know what will happen.”

A low rumble of warning started in Ash’s chest.

“And I’m sorry. I really am,” Attes was quick to add. “I like Seraphena. She…” He glanced at me, his sad smile not quite reaching his eyes. “She amuses me.”

The growl coming from Ash deepened.

Attes’s attention shifted back to Ash. “But the soul in her is far more important.”

“I’m not sure how any of that is helping right now,” I said, pressing a hand to Ash’s chest as his lips peeled back, revealing sharp fangs. “At all.”

“What I’m trying to say is that when Seraphena dies, Sotoria will be lost,” Attes stated. “And that means the only chance to truly stop Kolis dies with that soul. If that happens? Nothing will be able to stop him. And you know more than anyone, he doesn’t need to Ascend into the Primal of Life and Death to wreak havoc.”

“You know an awful lot about this soul, given you’re the fucking Primal of War,” Ash spat. “Besides that, Sotoria isn’t really alive, now is she? Her soul is just an invader in Sera’s body, who is alive.”

My brows knitted. I got what Ash was saying, but… “She’s alive,” I whispered. Flat, chrome-hued eyes snapped back to mine. “I mean, maybe conscious is better than saying she’s alive, but she’s aware.”

Ash frowned.

“It’s true.” Attes had moved closer, maybe a few feet from us. “I heard Sotoria—her voice and laugh from Sera—when Kolis first had her. It’s a sound I would recognize anywhere.”

My lips parted in surprise. He was talking about when Kolis had tried to take the embers. Attes hadn’t shared that before.