And neither could his crimes against both mortals and gods.

I watched him make his way to the table and lift the stopper on a decanter. He didn’t walk as much as he glided. His bare feet barely skimmed the floor, as if the air itself carried him forward. He was dressed as he had been when I briefly saw him in the Sun Temple the day of the Rite. A fitted white tunic and loose linen pants. Both were speckled with gold. His hair was down, tucked back behind his ears, and from the side, there was no mistaking how nearly identical his features were to the painting of his brother Eythos that hung in the House of Haides’ library. There were slight differences. Kolis’s jaw and chin were broader, and Eythos’s brow was stronger, but they were still twins.

And it was impossible not to see parts of Ash in those features. The angles and planes of Kolis’s face were more refined, less raw and wild than Ash’s, but the similarities were unnerving, nonetheless.

Kolis poured a glass of clear liquid that formed tiny bubbles that raced to the surface of the slender flute. “Callum told me you asked about my nephew.”

Motherfucker.

I was also a motherfucker because I had been desperate enough to ask Callum about Ash.

“He said you wanted to know where he is,” he continued, picking up the glass and bringing it to me.

I was surprised by how steady my hand was when I took the flute. “I did,” I answered, knowing better than to lie about it.

“Sit,” Kolis instructed.

The order raised my hackles, but I sat on the divan as I glanced down at the strange drink. Giving it a sniff, I detected soft, fruity notes. “What is this?”

“Water infused with strawberries and lemon. It is a drink my brother used to make,” he said, and my gaze shot to him. “He was good at creating all manner of things, be it life or refreshments.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of that tidbit of information, but there was no bitterness to his tone. Thinking it wasn’t likely that he would poison me, I took a tiny sip. I sat straighter as the water danced on my tongue, taking in the sweetness of the strawberries and the faint tang of the lemon.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s good,” I admitted, taking a longer drink. “Really good.”

Kolis gave a curt wave of his hand, and the dining chair slid across the tile like a hound answering its owner’s call. He sat directly in front of me.

“Why do you want to know where my nephew is?” he asked.

Any hope I had that he would move on from the topic fizzled out like the drink I held. “Curiosity.”

Kolis chuckled, and the sound was bright yet cold.

I decided the best course of action was to direct the subject to something else. “Did the Shadowland forces you spoke of earlier leave the borders of Dalos?” I questioned, realizing I had not thought to ask Attes that.

“No, they have not,” he answered. “They remain in the Bonelands.”

“The Bonelands?” My brow knitted.

“Eythos named it,” Kolis said with a shrug. “It’s to the south of Dalos, along the coast, beyond the Carcers. A rather uninhabitable stretch of sand dunes and overgrown, forested lands full of forgotten Temples once belonging to the Ancients, and rocks that vaguely resemble the bones of giants. My brother believed them to be actual bones of dragons slaughtered by the Ancients.” He scoffed. “Perhaps he was right.”

Why were the Ancients killing dragons? The answer to that wasn’t important, but hadn’t Attes said that Ash was being held in the Carcers? “You haven’t…attacked them? Forced them back from your borders?”

“Should I have?” he countered.

I wasn’t exactly sure how he expected me to answer that question, but I went with the obvious. “Yes?”

“Truly?”

“If they were forces encroaching on my lands, I would,” I answered objectively.

“But if I do that, then it would escalate tensions, possibly to the point of no return.” He lifted his glass. “Contrary to what you may believe about me, I have no desire to start a war. Engaging with his forces would do exactly that.”

My lips slowly parted as his claim hung in the space between us like a heavy fog of a whole lot of bullshit.

“You look surprised.”

“More like confused,” I said. Attes hadn’t said that Kolis wanted war. He’d only said that the false King would fight a war his way.

“And why is that?”

“You said you wanted to rise as the Primal of Life and Death,” I explained, carefully choosing my words. His cunning gaze centered on me. The gold should’ve warmed his eyes, but his stare was so damn cold. “And that those who don’t relinquish their Courts and kingdoms to you would die.”

“I did say that.”

“You’re speaking of Primals, gods, and mortals alike, correct?” When he nodded, I stated what I thought was pretty obvious. “Would that not cause a war?”

Kolis’s chuckle was a low hiss like a serpent’s, full of superiority and amusement bordering on mockery. “I suppose I should’ve been clearer. I have no plans of starting a war that I would not win or one that would leave much of both realms an uninhabitable mess, which is what would happen if a war began,” he said. “Once again, you look surprised.”

I bet I did look like that when I could feel my jaw hanging open like a broken gate. I wasn’t even sure why hearing what he said surprised me so much. Kolis wanted to be a supreme ruler, which meant there would need to be land and people to rule over.

I suppose it was because I thought of Kolis as an unhinged, chaotic mass murderer.

And who would blame me for that? The way he’d behaved when I first woke in Dalos had backed up that belief. But he wasn’t that.

Well, he was for sure an unhinged mass murderer, but he was far more logical than chaotic. Or maybe as logical as he was chaotic. Either way, the realization made him all the more frightening to me.

“Besides,” he said. “Such a war would most certainly spill into the mortal realm, and while they have become far too complacent, they cannot worship us as they should if they’re dead.”

“Complacent?” I questioned.

“In their lives. But that will soon change, as I plan to take more of an active role.”

My mouth had to be hanging open again, and it had nothing to do with what he meant by an active role. “I’m not sure how much time you spend among mortals, but the vast majority don’t have the luxury of being complacent in their lives.”

He fixed his stare on me. “Perhaps if they served Iliseeum better, they would have that luxury. However, their time spent in worship and prayer has steadily waned. Their pledges to the Temples continue to dwindle, while their tithes become less and less impressive.”

Even as scary as he was, my mouth would not stop moving. “It’s likely because most of their time is spent trying to survive.”

“And as I just said, perhaps their prosperity would improve if they proved themselves worthy of it,” he countered. “As it stands, their losses and struggles are of their own making.”

Anger flashed through me so hotly, Kolis would be drowning in it if he had Ash’s abilities. I had to move past this subject of mortals because if I didn’t, I’d likely lose my temper. “Won’t taking me, the Consort of the Shadowlands, further escalate things?”

“Nyktos started things by attacking me, but I am giving him time to rethink his actions, as acts of war can always be walked back,” he said, and the only part I really latched on to was him saying that he was giving Ash time. “Taking you could present challenges, but only if the other Primals feel you are worth going to war over.”

My lips pursed as I thought about what Attes had shared. “Or if they fear this act will embolden you to break tradition further with them?”

“They should already fear that,” he replied, smirking. “Most do. Either way, they know what they could lose if they decide to take up arms against me. I will destroy everything they care about and send their Courts into ruin before they find themselves imprisoned right alongside Nyktos.”