A sharp twist went through my chest. End him. I couldn’t stop it. The memory of how I felt sitting beside him at the lake resurfaced. The way he made me smile—made me laugh. How easy it had been to talk to him. The twisting motion intensified, settling in my throat. I thrust all of that aside and made myself see the Coupers, all of them, lying side by side in bed together. I held onto that image as I exhaled roughly, opening my eyes.

Ash was watching me. Neither of us said anything for a long moment and then he spoke. “Choice ends today. And for that, I am sorry.”

I curved my arms around my waist, unsettled for a multitude of reasons. He genuinely sounded sorry, and I didn’t understand. We were in this situation because of the deal he made.

Everything I had to do and would have to do was because of what he chose.

I watched him extend a hand toward me, and the urge to take flight hit me hard. “I…I want to say goodbye to my family.”

“No,” he refused. “We leave now.”

Stubbornness dug in. “Why can’t I say goodbye?”

His cold stare held mine. “Because if I see the woman who may be your mother again, I am likely to kill her for pleading for that shit’s life.”

I sucked in a surprised breath. There was no mistaking the truth of his words. He would kill her, and a dark, savage part of me wanted to see it.

There was something so very wrong with me.

“Will my family know that I am with you?” I asked.

Ash nodded. “They will be advised.”

Unfolding my arms, my hand trembled as I placed it in his. A static charge danced between our palms as his hand closed firmly around mine.

Air lodged in my throat as a white mist seeped over the floor, heavy enough to obscure the cracks in the tile. The mist churned the edges of my night rail. Ash stepped into me, and the tendrils thickened. His thighs brushed mine, and the scent of citrus lingered on my breath.

His gaze caught and held mine as the tips of his fingers touched my cheek. The mist grew, slipping over my legs, my hips. As much as I tried to fight it, panic cut through me as it glided over our hands, the feel of it cool and silky.

“This may sting a little,” he said, the silver of his eyes beginning to swirl, to mix with the mist—with the power. “For that, I’m also sorry.”

There was no chance to ask what he meant or to struggle. The mist swallowed us, and a sharp, burning sting swept from the tips of my toes to the springy curls that had slipped free. Silvery-white light flashed before my eyes and behind them, and then I was falling.

I came aware, all my senses firing at once. I was astride a horse, seated sidesaddle, and the entire side of my body was nestled against the hard, cool length of Ash. My cheek rested on his shoulder, and every breath tasted of citrus and fresh mountain air. For a moment, I could almost pretend that this was a normal embrace. That the strong arm around my waist holding me so carefully and tightly was because I was wanted. Cherished.

But I was never good at pretending.

I started to sit straight.

“Careful.” Ash’s voice was like smoke in my ear, his arm tightening around my waist. “It’s a long fall from Odin.”

My gaze lowered, and I felt my stomach drop. The sable-black steed was several feet taller than any horse I’d ever seen. A fall would surely break bones or worse. I shifted, frowning when something soft glided over my once bare arms. A black cloak had been draped over me.

“Saion found the cloak,” Ash answered my unspoken question. “Not sure where he got it, and I decided that neither of us probably wanted to know. But he figured you’d be more comfortable with it.”

Curling numb fingers around the edges of the soft cloak, I lifted my gaze to the heavy canopy of tree limbs I’d recognize anywhere.

“We’re in the Dark Elms,” I said, throat and mouth feeling as if they were full of tufts of wool.

“We are.” His breath stirred the top of my head. “I expected you would be asleep for far longer. You shouldn’t have awakened until we were in the Shadowlands.”

I looked at him then, his features cast in shadows as we passed under the canopy of branches. “What did you do?”

“The mist? It’s eather. Basically an extension of our being and will. It can have a certain effect on mortals if we allow it. In your case, making you sleep,” he explained. “I didn’t want to draw any more unnecessary attention.”

“What kind of effect does the mist have on others?”

“It can kill them within seconds if that is our will.”

Swallowing hard, I realized that I was holding myself stiff and straight as a board. I thought of Ezra, Marisol, and Sir Holland—wherever he may be. “You said that other gods could learn of you coming for me. Will my family be okay?”

“They should be,” he answered. “Once you are introduced as my Consort, only the most foolish of gods would go after your family, as they would become an extension of mine.”

That wasn’t exactly reassuring. Breathe in. Ezra was smart. So was my mother.

“Saion or Ector will warn them though, or already have,” he added. “And there are…certain steps that will be taken just in case. Wards they will be left behind.”

“Wards?”

“Spells fueled by Primal magic that will block gods from entering their homes.” He shifted slightly, and a moment passed. “I will make sure they are safe, even if I don’t feel they deserve it.”

My gaze cut to his as a feeling of gratitude swelled. I didn’t want to feel that. “Ezra—my stepsister. She’s good. She deserves it.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that.”

In the silence that fell between us, the many questions I had rose again as I stared at the Dark Elms. “How did you know what was happening?” I asked, feeling my cheeks warm. “How did you know to come?” Why did you finally come? I didn’t ask that because I didn’t need to know.

He didn’t answer for a long moment. “I knew you had been hurt.”

My brows puckered as I glanced back at him. “How?” Then it struck me. “The deal?”

“Partly.”

A prickly sensation swept over me when he didn’t elaborate. “Partly?”

“The deal linked us on a basic level. I knew when you were born. If you were ever seriously injured or close to death, I would know.”

“That’s…kind of creepy.”

“Then you’re sure to find the next part even more so,” he told me.

“Can’t wait to hear it,” I muttered.

A hint of a smile appeared as he glanced down at me. “Your blood.”

“My blood?”

He nodded. “I tasted your blood, liessa. It wasn’t intentional, but it has come in handy.”

It took me a moment to remember the night in the vine tunnel when he’d nipped my lip. “My blood lets you feel my emotions when I’m not around you?”

There was a tightening in his expression. “Only if they’re extreme. And what you felt was extreme.”

Uneasy, I turned back around. Had it been the pain? Or the panic from when I was held down? Or had it been that ancient, icy-hot thing inside me? I didn’t like knowing that he had felt any of that. I also didn’t like this stupid sidesaddle position. Leaning back, I lifted my right leg and swung it over to the other side of Odin. The act caused an ache in my shoulders and upper back, reminding me that the skin was very tender there. Ash’s arm tightened as I squirmed my way until I was facing forward.

“Comfortable?” he asked, the one word thick and heavy.

“Yes,” I snapped.

He chuckled.

I gripped the saddle’s pommel to keep myself from turning around and doing something reckless. Say, punching a Primal who had turned a mortal to dust with a single look for example. “Why are we in the woods?”

“You cannot travel where we’re going through an opening in the realms,” he answered, and I became aware of where his hand now rested on my hip. His thumb…it moved like it had the night by the lake, in slow, idle circles.