“It has nothing to do with strength,” that raspier voice of fire joined his, and I…I felt weight on my legs.

Frowning, I looked at where my legs drifted in the water. I saw nothing, but I felt a familiar weight I knew but couldn’t quite place.

“Eythos had many more years on him than you,” the other voice said, and images flashed in my mind of a tall man with copper skin and long, dark hair streaked with red. “And he changed, Ash.”

 My heart thudded heavily. Ash. I knew that name. He was the nightmare that had become my dream. The calm in my storm. My strength when I was weak. The breath when I couldn’t breathe. He was more than my King. My husband.

Ash was the other half of my heart and soul.

“He was never the same,” the other continued. “And if you hadn’t lived? He would’ve wasted away.”

There was a gap of silence, and then, “And if I’d lost her?” Ash replied. “I wouldn’t have wasted away. I would’ve destroyed everything.”

“I know,” the other said, the voice so heavy I felt the truth of it in my bones.

Because I was the other half of Ash’s soul. His heart. And nothing was more powerful than that—or more dangerous.

“But that will not come to pass,” the other said. “You saved her.”

He had.

That other voice was right, and I knew his name, didn’t I? He had once told me that not everyone can always be okay. He’d made me agree that if I…if I ever wasn’t okay, I would talk to him. That we’d…

We’ll make sure you’re okay.

Nektas.

That was his name.

Tears stung my throat and eyes, his offer meaning the world to me because Nektas knew that life was worth living, even when it was often unfair and the injustices seemed to stack up. Hardships didn’t always happen for a reason. Sometimes, the Fates didn’t have a greater plan.

But even when it began to feel like a chore one had to force themselves to complete, life was still worth living.

Even when it was unfair and heartbreaking, dark and full of the unknown, life was still worth living.

Because rewards could be found among the chores. Little pieces of enjoyment that would come to mean something. Darkness always gave way to the light if given time, and while some heartbreaks may never completely heal, living allowed there to be space for new sources of happiness and pleasure.

Life was worth living even when it was full of unfairness and injustice. When the heart felt light and when the chest was too tight to breathe.

Because death was final.

The absence of choice.

And life was a collection of new beginnings.

Full of unending choices.

Time passed, I slept, and Ash continued to speak. His voice would grow louder and then become a whisper.

Another voice came, one that was quiet and serious—always serious. “You need to feed. When she wakes…”

When I woke, I would be…hungry.

Ash was quiet, then I felt his touch again on my cheek. His hand was cool but a bit warmer. “I never felt alive until you,” he whispered, “And I should’ve known then what you were to me. That you were the impossible. The one thing that could return a kardia, scratching itself together from the wound its removal left behind. My heartmate.”

Lips curving upward, I dragged my arms through the water as I smiled.

“Take as long as you need to rest,” Ash told me. “I’ll be here, waiting. I’ll always wait for you, Sera.”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Ash’s voice faded away. The others returned for a time, calling to me, but then they, too, disappeared. Somehow, I ended up facing the bank of the lake.

The wolf was gone.

In its place was a large feline, one that resembled a cave cat, but its fur wasn’t the shade of storm clouds—it gleamed like moonlight. The feline prowled the damp, mossy ground at the lake’s edge.

I started to swim forward, unafraid. The cat’s tail swished back and forth as green eyes spliced with silver tracked my movements. As my feet brushed the cool shadowstone, I no longer treaded water but walked forward.

The feline stepped back, its large paws sinking into the soil and grass. I saw it was a female. She sank onto her haunches as I climbed the earthen steps. Water dripped from my fingers and hair as I knelt before the stunning creature.

I reached between us, placing my hand beneath her powerful jaw. Soft fur teased my palm and threaded between my fingers. A soft purr came from the cat’s chest. Movement behind her caught my attention. In the shadows, something moved—two of them. Smaller, their coats darker. My attention shifted back to the large feline. Our eyes locked, and I saw…

I saw me looking back.

A tingling sensation started in my feet and slowly traveled up my legs, followed by a rush of heat. My fingers twitched. A leg spasmed and then curled beneath softness. I forced my mouth to part. Something scraped against my lower lip as I drew in a short breath.

A solid and…cold body shifted beside mine and a scent reached me. Fresh mountain air and citrus. I liked that smell. A lot. Brief images of silver eyes and golden-bronze skin flashed in the darkness of my mind. My throat vibrated with a soft hum.

Something touched my cheek. Fingers. They sent a jolt of energy through me. “Sera?”

That voice.

Midnight silk and sin.

Something soft and warm rasped against my thighs and breasts. A blanket? Whatever it was, my skin grew even more sensitive.

“I know it’s hard waking up for the first time,” the midnight voice said. “It took me hours, so don’t fight it if you fall back asleep. We have time.”

But I didn’t want to sleep.

The fingers at my cheek slipped to my jaw, tilting my head. My back arched as that sound reverberated from my chest again—a trilling purr.

I was…I was so thirsty. Everything inside me was on fire. I felt parched and barren. My jaw throbbed, and my throat burned. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was too dry. My muscles cramped as I tried to pry my eyes open. My lids felt fused together. The trilling sound I made deepened with my frustration, becoming a raspy growl.

“It’s okay. Give yourself time,” the voice soothed. “I’m right here. I’m with you.”

The hand at my jaw rose to the side of my face, his cool skin a brief reprieve against the inferno. I wanted to turn into the touch, press against it, but I was too weak.

I could not be weak.

Not…not before. And not now.

Gods, I was so thirsty. Hungry. And restless. My muscles felt unused, as if I’d slept for years, but it hadn’t been years. Days, maybe. Days while I listened to a voice. His voice. The voices of others. My mind was a mess of racing thoughts, explosions of knowledge that kept coming. But I needed to move.

I needed…something.

Sustenance.

I needed to feed.

 The throbbing in my jaw increased. I really wanted to open my eyes. Eather pulsed, first in my chest, before flooding my body with sheer will. My lashes fluttered and then lifted. I finally opened my eyes to darkness and the cool press of a body next to mine.

His body.

And it had grown still.

At first, there were just blotches of shadow, but my eyes quickly adjusted. Even with the lack of light, I clearly made out a side table holding a small wooden box. My gaze slowly moved over a wardrobe and a few chests. A table. Two chairs. That felt different, as if it had changed. Confusion and curiosity rose as fragments of memory existed just outside my reach. I spied two closed doors. Everything was spare and darkly colored. It had no life.

Except for the splashes of color strewn about a long couch. Gowns of vibrant blues and red, blouses and vests. That felt new, too. It seemed significant and—