“The temperamental plant that reminds you of me?” I remembered.

Rhain smothered a laugh behind his hand as Ash nodded. “It’s not like the poppies in the mortal realm. Besides their very poisonous needles, they are more red than orange, and they grow far more abundantly in Iliseeum. Gods…” He drew his thumb along his lower lip. “They haven’t grown here in hundreds of years, but a few days after your arrival, one blossomed in the Red Woods.”

I remembered seeing him then, crossing the courtyard and entering the Red Woods alone. More than once, that had been what he was checking on. “But I didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t think you had to do anything but be here,” Nektas said, rubbing a hand along Jadis’s back as she wiggled a bit in his arms. “Your presence is slowly bringing life back.”

That sounded…utterly unbelievable, but something Ash had said earlier resurfaced. “You said the effects of there being no Primal of Life was already being felt in the mortal realm.”

Ash nodded. “What you call the Rot? It’s what happened in the Shadowlands. It’s a consequence of there being no Primal of Life.”

I stared at him as my heart felt as if it stopped in my chest. There was nothing—absolutely nothing—in my head at first. I couldn’t have heard him right. Or I didn’t understand. “The Rot is a byproduct of the deal your father made with Roderick Mierel expiring.”

Ash’s brows lowered as he rested an arm on the nicked table. “That has nothing to do with the deal, Sera.”

Shock rippled through me, rocking me to my very core. “I don’t understand. It started after I was born. It appeared then, and the weather started to change. The droughts and the ice that falls from the sky. The winters—”

“The deal did have an expiration date because what my father did to the climate wasn’t natural. It couldn’t continue that way forever.” Ash’s gaze searched mine. “But all that meant is that the climate would return to its original state—more seasonal conditions like in some areas of the mortal realm. Of course, I doubt it will ever get as cold as Irelone, not where Lasania is located, but nothing too severe.”

My heart sped up. There was a buzzing in my ears. I barely heard Saion when he said, “The weather has been affected by what Kolis did. That’s why the mortal realm is seeing more extreme weather like droughts and storms. It’s a symptom of the destabilization of the balance.”

“The deal has nothing to do with the Rot?” I whispered, and Ash shook his head. I…I wanted to deny what he was saying. Believe that this was some sort of trick.

“Did you think these two things were related?” Ash asked.

A tremor started in my legs. “We knew the deal expired with my birth. That’s when the Rot showed. That’s what we’d been told, generation after generation. That the deal would end, and things would return to as they were.”

“And they did,” Ash said. “The weather changed back to its original state years ago. But as Saion explained, it’s been more extreme because of the destabilization. Every place in the mortal realm has seen strange weather patterns.”

“This Rot showing when it did sounds like a coincidence,” Rhain stated. “Or maybe it is tied to your birth and what Nyktos’ father did. Maybe the emergence of the ember of life triggered something. Why it would cause the land to sour is beyond me.”

Ash leaned toward me. “But it’s not a part of the original deal my father made. What is happening in Lasania would’ve happened even if my father hadn’t made the deal, and it will eventually spread throughout the entire mortal realm, just as it will spread in Iliseeum.”

“Actually, you know what? I think Rhain was onto something. It might have to do with the deal,” Aios said, and my head swung in her direction. Her gaze met mine. “But not in the way you might think.”

“What are you thinking?” Ash asked, looking over at the goddess.

“Maybe this Rot—this consequence of what Kolis did—has taken so long to appear because the ember of life was alive in the Mierel bloodline over the years. I mean, the mortal realm is far more vulnerable to the actions of Primals. The fallout of there being no Primal of Life should’ve been felt long before this, right?” Aios glanced around the table. There were a few nods of agreement. “That ember of life was, in a way, protected in the bloodline. Still there, but…when you were born, the ember of life entered a mortal body—a vessel so to speak—that is vulnerable and carries an expiration date.”

“You mean my death,” I rasped.

Aios cringed. “Yes. Or maybe not,” she added quickly when I shuddered. “Maybe the ember of life is just weakened in a mortal body, no longer able to hold off the effects of what was done.” She sat back with a faint shrug. “Or I could be completely wrong, and everyone should just ignore me.”

“No. You may be onto something,” Ash said thoughtfully, and I thought I might be sick as his attention shifted to me. A heartbeat passed while he studied me. “What’s going on, Sera?”

I couldn’t answer.

“This is more than just a surprise to you.” Eather trickled into his irises. “You’re feeling way too much for this to be confusion surrounding some sort of misinterpretation.”

Misinterpretation? A wet-sounding laugh rattled out of me. I knew he must be picking up on my emotions, reading them, and at that moment, I couldn’t even care. I didn’t think even he could decipher exactly what I was feeling.

The tremors had made their way through my body, shaking out any chance of denial.

What everyone said made sense. The day in the Red Woods, I realized how similar the Shadowlands were to the Rot in Lasania—the gray, dead grass, the skeletons of twisted, bare limbs, and the scent of stale lilacs that permeated the ruined soil.

But that meant—oh, gods, that meant that if the deal wasn’t responsible for the Rot, there was nothing I could do. Worse yet, it would spread throughout the entire mortal realm. And if Aios was right, it was because of my birth. Because this ember was now alive in a body that would eventually give out and die, taking the ember of life with it. The clock that had been counting down this entire time wasn’t the deal coming to an end. It was me coming to an end.

I pressed a hand to my roiling stomach as I stood, no longer able to stay seated. I backed away from the table.

“Sera.” Ash turned in the chair toward me. “What’s going on?”

I shoved hair back from my face, tugging on the strands. I didn’t see Ash. I didn’t see anyone in that room. All I saw was the Coupers lying in that bed, side by side, flies swarming their bodies. And then I saw countless families like that. Hundreds of thousands. Millions. “I thought I could stop it,” I whispered, the back of my throat burning. “That’s what I spent my…my entire life on. I thought I could stop it. Everything I did. The loneliness. The fucking Veil of the Chosen. The training—the becoming nothing. The godsdamn grooming,” I dragged my hands down my face. “It was worth it. I would save my people. It didn’t matter what happened to me in the end—”

Ash was suddenly in front of me, the press of his hands cool against my cheeks. “Did you all think fulfilling the deal would somehow stop the Rot?”

Another strangled laugh left me. “No. We thought…”

Make him fall in love.

Become his weakness.

End him.

I shuddered as I felt it—that swift, acute sense of being able to truly breathe. Like I had felt when he hadn’t taken me the first night I’d been presented to him. Relief. The reason was different this time. I didn’t have to manipulate him. I didn’t have to make him fall in love with me and then hurt him—kill him.

His face came into view, the sharp angles and the hollowness under his cheekbones. The rich, reddish-brown hair and striking, swirling eyes. The features of a Primal, who was nothing like I assumed or wanted to believe. Thoughtful and kind despite all he’d lost—despite all the pain he’d felt that would’ve changed most into something of a nightmare. A man that I…that I had begun to enjoy. To care for, even before I realized who he was and we’d sat side by side at the lake. A person who made me feel like someone. Like I wasn’t a blank canvas, an empty vessel.