“I’d rather have you there.”

“I’d rather not leave your side,” the draken countered. “Not now.”

“I’m fine,” the Primal stated, his voice low. “I told you that three times now.”

“Five times, actually.” Nektas held his ground. “And I don’t have to tell you that I know better.”

All thoughts of what I’d just screamed at the Primal fell to the wayside. My attention shifted to the tears in his tunic. The splotches of darker material along his chest had spread.

Ector hopped off the dais. “How much of that blood is yours?”

“Most of it,” Nyktos answered, and the draken gave a low growl of disapproval.

“Shit,” Rhain muttered, joining Ector on the floor. “Are your wounds not healing?”

“Do you want to die tonight?” Nyktos fired back.

Saion widened his eyes as he stared at the floor, saying nothing more.

“I could try,” I started, and Nyktos’ head swung in my direction. “My gift—the ember. It worked on the wounded hawk.”

“Besides the fact that the ember of life isn’t powerful enough to work on me or a god,” he said, “I’m not sure I’d trust you enough to let you try even that.”

I flinched. I flinched again.

Nyktos’ nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply, looking away. “I just need to clean up, which I plan to do now if that would make all of you feel better,” Nyktos said.

 “That is not what would make me feel better,” Nektas replied.

“Too bad.” Nyktos glared at the draken. He started to turn and then looked back at me, his jaw hard. He refocused on Nektas. “Put her somewhere safe, where she can’t do whatever idiotic thing is surely filling her head. She assigns no value to her life.”

I opened my mouth, but Nektas cut me off. “That I can do.”

“Perfect,” the Primal snarled and turned, his boots a heavy thud against the shadowstone floor as he stormed out of the throne room.

As soon as I could no longer see him, I turned to Nektas. “How badly is he injured?”

“You don’t have to pretend in front of us,” Ector retorted.

Spinning toward him, I lifted a finger and pointed it at him. “What in the fuck did I just say about not telling me what to feel? That goes for you, too,” I said, and Ector’s brows flew up. I turned back around. “That goes for all of you.”

Everyone, including the draken, stared at me.

Saion cleared his throat. “He was swarmed on the docks and the beach. The dakkais got in a lot of hits.”

Rhain exchanged a concerned look with Ector. “How bad?”

“Bad enough that he needs to feed,” Nektas answered. “And stubborn enough to ride it out.”

“Hell.” Ector ran a hand over his face.

My stomach pitched as I remembered what Nyktos had told me over our first breakfast. “What happens if he doesn’t feed and rides it out? Will he turn into…something dangerous? He mentioned something along those lines before.”

Nektas tilted his chin. “He’s weak enough that he could tip over into that.”

Rhain cursed again.

“But even if he doesn’t, he’s still weakened,” Nektas continued. “And that’s the last thing we need right now.”

I shoved a tangle of hair back from my face. “Why won’t he feed?”

Nektas’s gaze met mine. “Because he’s been forced to feed until he’s killed. That’s why.”

My lips parted. I took a step back as if I could somehow put distance between what Nektas had said and me. But I thought about the breakfast that morning, how I’d thought that he had been held against his will. I closed my eyes. “Did Kolis hold him prisoner?”

A long stretch of silence passed before Nektas said, “Kolis has done all manner of things to him.”

The heaviness in my chest felt like it would drag me down to the floor. “How…how do we get him to feed?”

“We don’t,” Rhain said. “We just hope he rides it out.”

“Actually, I think we can get him to feed now,” Nektas shared, and I opened my eyes to find him watching me. “He’s mad enough at you that he’d probably feed from you.”

I blinked once and then twice. “I’m…I’m not sure how I feel about the ease in which you suggested that.”

The draken raised his brows. “But?”

But Nyktos was weak, and it was the last thing they needed. He needed to feed, and if I had been ready to possibly be burned alive by a draken after killing Nyktos, I could prepare myself for this.

“Okay.” I sighed.

Those unnerving red eyes latched onto mine. “Is it truly your choice? You can say no. No one here will make you do it, nor would we hold it against you.”

I had no idea if anyone would hold it against me—they had far bigger things to use in that way. I could say no, but if Nyktos had never discovered the truth, I would’ve offered myself. And, deep down, I knew it had nothing to do with the deal. It would’ve been because I didn’t want him to hurt.

“It’s my choice,” I said, looking up at Nektas. “I’ll try. I’m sure I’ll say something that will anger him.”

Nektas smiled.

“Are you sure about this?” Rhain asked. “She came here to kill him.”

“He brought her here,” Nektas corrected swiftly, surprising me. Though, I wasn’t sure what that changed. “Do you have a better idea?”

Rhain glanced at me. “No.” A pause. “What if he kills her?”

“Well,” Ector drawled as he walked past me. “Then I guess we don’t have to worry about her trying to kill him.”

“I’m not going to try to kill him,” I snapped.

“Now,” Ector tacked on.

“Come.” Nektas motioned for me to follow him, and I got moving, shooting Ector a narrow-eyed glare.

Saion gave me a thumbs-up as we walked past him. “Thoughts and many prayers.”

I didn’t even dignify that with a response. I followed Nektas to the back stairwell, my heart surprisingly calm. We started up the stairs when I asked, “Is Orphine okay?”

“She will be,” he said, and that was all we said until we neared the floor.

“I’m kind of surprised you suggested this,” I admitted. “What if he’s mad at you?”

“He told me to put you somewhere safe.” Nektas opened the door and held it for me. “That is what I’m doing.”

My brows pinched as I walked through. Nektas stopped in front of the door to my bedchamber. “He won’t answer if you knock, but I am sure the door between your chambers is unlocked.”

I stared at my door. “You really think this will work? Maybe he’s too mad to do it.”

“Let me ask you a question.” Nektas waited until my gaze met his. “Would you have followed through if you never learned that killing him would not have saved your people?”

I opened my mouth. The word yes slithered up my throat, but it didn’t go any further than that. It wouldn’t go past my tongue because I didn’t know if I would have. I couldn’t say yes.

“That’s why,” Nektas said, pushing open the door. “I think he knows that, too.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, nor could I dwell on the realization of what I’d admitted and what it meant. I walked into my room, my gaze immediately landing on the door to his bedchamber. I didn’t waste time just in case some small inkling of common sense invaded me. I only stopped long enough to toe off my boots and stockings. A fine mist of dakkai blood coated them, and I didn’t want to track it through the chambers. I went to the door between our rooms and turned the knob.

Nektas was right. It was unlocked.

A faint shiver curled down my spine as the door cracked open, revealing a short, narrow passageway and an empty, dimly lit bedchamber beyond. My heart was still calm as I closed the door behind me and I crept forward, the stone floors cold under my feet. I entered the bedchamber that smelled of citrus, and as I suspected, it was empty except for the necessities. A large bed and some bedside tables. A wardrobe and a few chests. A table with one chair. A long settee. That was all.

The steadiness in my chest faltered as my gaze shifted to the halfway-open door on the other side of the bedchamber. I caught a glimpse of a porcelain tub. I moved deeper into the cavern-like space, my throat drying as I saw Nyktos in the bathing chamber.