“You did.” A tremor went through me. “Now, there is something I want to tell you. When I said I thought I’d die without knowing what your love felt like? I was wrong. Even if I had died—”

Eather pulsed in the veins of his cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about you dying.”

“I know, but what I’m saying is that you’ve proven to me, many times over, that you love me,” I said. “It was in every one of your actions, even if you never spoke the words. I knew when you held me in the lake that if what you felt wasn’t love, it was something even stronger—better. We just didn’t know it was possible.”

“It shouldn’t be.” He pressed his lips to my cheek. “There is only one thing I can think of that would make it possible. We’re of the same soul.” He drew back, leaving our faces inches apart. “It’s the only thing that could’ve made removing the kardia utterly meaningless.”

“Of the same soul?” I sat back. “Like mates of the heart?”

Ash nodded.

With everything that had happened, I’d totally forgotten about the dreams. “That was how we were able to walk in each other’s dreams?”

“Why I could connect in some way to you while in stasis. I think so.” His lashes swept down. “It wasn’t the embers or that you’d fed from me.”

“I know we talked about this in the cavern,” I said, “but I never knew if it was true or not.”

“To be honest, I didn’t either.” He drew his bottom lip between his teeth. “Mates of the soul—or of the heart—are even legend among us. Something rare the Fates were supposedly involved in.”

The Fates… A memory or piece of knowledge flickered through my mind, moving too fast for me to grasp at the moment. I shook my head slightly. “What do you mean?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s said that when the Arae look upon the threads of fate and see all the many different possibilities of one’s life, they can sometimes see what may come of the love between two or more souls. And in that union, they see possibilities that can reshape the realms by either creating something never seen before or ushering in great change,” he explained, running his thumb over the golden swirl on my hand. “And when they see that one thread, they are forbidden to intervene in the affairs of those souls, as they believe the bond between them cannot be circumvented. So, not even death of the body or the heart and soul—the kardia—can break such a connection.” His gaze returned to mine. “And the joining of our souls has brought up something never seen before. A Queen of the Gods.”

My lips parted. If what had been said about mates of the heart was true, then it explained how Ash could love.

How he’d been able to love me this whole time.

Something Holland said floated through my mind. “Love is more powerful than the Fates,” I murmured. “If the Arae are not supposed to meddle in the affairs of mates of the heart, then how was Holland allowed to interact with me for so long? And do what he did?”

Ash’s lips quirked up. “I have a feeling Holland really likes to push that fine line he walks between interfering and casually observing.”

“Yeah.” Something tugged at my memories, but whatever it was existed on the fringes. “I hope I get to see him again.”

“Liessa,” Ash drawled. “If you want to see Holland again, you can. You’re the true Primal of Life. You can summon the Fates, remember? There will be little you cannot do.”

“Little I cannot do?” My eyes widened. “That…that’s actually kind of scary.”

“Yeah.” Ash grinned. “Yeah, it is.”

I started to laugh, but something struck me—something huge. The essence of life had been fully restored, ceasing the slow death of the embers that had started the moment I was born, along with the consequences of placing them into a mortal bloodline. That meant…

Even though that odd, uncanny sense of knowing told me the answer, I needed to see it for myself. I jerked upright and scrambled off the bed.

“Sera?” Concern filled Ash’s voice.

Heart pounding, I raced past the sofa and made a beeline for the balcony. Shoving the heavy curtains aside, I threw open the doors. My gaze shot first to the sky as I walked outside, the stone cool beneath my feet.

It was a shade of gray, full of vivid, shimmering stars, but it was different. The gray wasn’t as flat as I was accustomed to and seemed to carry faint strokes of lighter streaks, tinged in purple and pink. It reminded me of the brief moments of dawn.

“Sera,” Ash repeated, having joined me in his silent way. “Is there a reason we’re both naked as the day we were born on the balcony?”

As the Queen of the Gods, I should probably be more concerned about my nudity, but I couldn’t give that much thought as I went to the railing and looked down at the courtyard’s barren, packed earth.

My lips parted as a faint tremor ran through me. The ground wasn’t as I remembered either. Patches of green had sprouted every few feet, replacing the dull, dusty dirt.

“Grass,” I whispered hoarsely. “I see grass.”

“You do.” Ash came up behind me, closing his arms around my chest. “Nektas told me it began before I even returned to the Shadowlands with you.”

I lifted a trembling hand to my mouth. “That means…”

“It means you did it.” Ash dipped his head, brushing his lips over the curve of my cheek. “You stopped the Rot, liessa. Here and in the mortal realm.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

I lay on my back, eyes closed, and my hand resting on the bed beside me, the space still cool from where Ash’s body had been.

After confirming what I already knew—that the Rot had been stopped—Ash had drawn me back into the bedchamber, hopefully before anyone spotted me standing out there, completely nude.

That wouldn’t make for a great first impression as Queen.

The Rot had stopped.

Lasania would be saved—well, at least for now. There was still Kolis and…whatever I might have done to the kingdom during my Ascension, but the Rot would not be its destruction.

I truly hadn’t failed.

I’d ended the Rot.

A small laugh bubbled out of me as my fingers curled into the sheet. Ash was currently out in the hall, speaking with Rhain, who had also swung by to check on us. Instead of threatening the god’s life like he’d done with Nektas, Ash had stepped out into the hall, likely to assure Rhain—and therefore everyone else—that I was not only okay but also knew exactly who I was.

Ash had only been gone a handful of seconds, not even a minute, and I missed him.

Which was silly.

But it was a good kind of silly.

Opening my eyes, I rolled onto my side and stared at the closed doors. I didn’t want to get out of bed again. Despite what Ash had said about us having time, I had a feeling I would have to face the reality of, well…everything that existed beyond those doors if I rose again—whether naked or clothed.

I wasn’t ready to stop being happily silly, with the knowledge that the Rot had been ended. Where I was just a wife, and my only problem was missing my husband. I could spend an eternity as that.

But I knew I couldn’t.

At least not now.

Once I got up and handled things, then I could have that eternity.

I would have it.

My gaze wandered to the small nightstand. There was a clear pitcher, and two glasses turned upside down. Reaching for the water, I stopped, instead focusing on the small wooden box.

Glancing at the door, my curiosity got the best of me, and I rose onto my elbow and picked up the container. It had small silver hinges and was surprisingly lightweight, almost as if there was nothing inside it. Sitting up, the thin fur blanket pooled at my waist as I traced the delicate lines carved into the lid, my finger following the etchings. The markings were the vine scrollwork I often saw on the tunics of those in the Shadowlands and the doors to the throne room.