My gaze shifted to the bodies filling the City Hall. And there would be more deaths.

Don’t let this leave a mark…

Ash and I returned to the Shadowlands shortly after. We had our dinner in the antechamber after updating the others. I didn’t think either of us was in the mood for company outside of each other.

I’d told him what Keella had shared with me. Parts of it were obviously no surprise since we had come to believe beforehand that part of what had happened had been Eythos’s plan. He was disquieted by the idea of the Fates wanting to wake the Ancients as much as I was, though. In the end, it simply meant there was no room for error. Kolis had to be entombed, and Sotoria needed to be released immediately.

I watched Ash as he rooted through the bowl of sliced fruit, inspecting a strawberry before moving on to another until he found the plumpest one to offer me. He’d done the same with the melon, the chicken, and the vegetables.

“Why do you keep doing that?” I asked, biting into the sticky, sweet berry.

He glanced over at me with a raised brow as he chose a strawberry that looked deformed. “Doing what?”

“Inspecting each and every piece of food before you give it to me.” I caught a drop of juice on my lip with the tip of my tongue.

I waited. Ash didn’t answer. He was…staring at my lips.

“Ash?”

He blinked, lifting his gaze. There was no mistaking the heat in his eyes. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

I grinned and asked the question again.

“Oh.” He shrugged as he sat back. “I just want to make sure you have the best there is to offer.”

Now, it was my turn to blink repeatedly at him as I fought off a wave of emotion.

Ash eyed me closely. “You okay?”

I cleared my throat. “Yes.” Leaning over, I wrapped my hand around the nape of his neck and drew his mouth to mine. His kiss tasted of strawberries. “I love you.”

He returned the kiss, and for a little bit, the food was forgotten. So was everything else. It didn’t stay that way, though. Now, I lay in bed beside him, my back nestled against his chest and his leg tucked between mine. His hand rested protectively over my stomach. I loved that. I loved sleeping this way, and I wanted to rest. I needed it. Tomorrow would be another…complicated day. But I stared at the shadowstone walls, my thoughts running from one to another. When I closed my eyes, I saw the bodies in the Callasta Isles City Hall and the disturbed soil outside the colonnade.

I saw Veses’ face.

Gods, Kolis would be pissed when he woke.

“Liessa,” Ash murmured. “What’s on your mind?”

I frowned. “It boggles my mind that you can appear completely asleep and yet somehow know I’m not.”

“It’s another talent of mine,” he remarked. “Talk to me.”

Those three words still made me want to squirm a little, but they didn’t incite as much unrest as they had before. “I’m just…I’m worried about the Callasta Isles—if our people are safe there,” I said, placing my hand over his. “There’s only one draken who didn’t join the attack, but we can’t even be sure he’s trustworthy.”

“Nektas seems to have taken Jarah at his word,” he said, speaking of the younger draken with gold and black scales. “I’m sure things will be calm there, at least for a little while. If not, you will sense any great unrest.”

I nodded, concentrating on the swoop of his thumb along the skin below my navel.

Ash was quiet for several minutes. “I don’t think that’s the only thing on your mind.”

It wasn’t.

“You’re thinking about what we did today.”

I was.

He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “What did I tell you?”

“To not let it leave a mark.”

His lips brushed over the skin he’d kissed, drawing a tight shiver from me. “But it is.”

It was.

“Sera…”

“I want them to leave a mark,” I blurted out. “I need them to.”

He rose slightly, and even though I didn’t look at him, I felt his questioning gaze on me.

“It’s not like I regret what we did,” I said, tracing the tendons on his hand. “It’s what we should’ve done since the beginning. And I know it’s neither right nor wrong. It’s simply…necessary.”

“But?” he asked quietly.

“But I…I keep seeing Veses’ face,” I admitted. “She really thought I wouldn’t do it, and you wouldn’t allow it.”

“Her arrogance was only one of many self-destructive flaws.”

Normally, I would’ve agreed with that or laughed. Possibly both. But I wasn’t sure if that was why. “Deep down, Veses really did think we were…” The back of my eyes burned for some damn reason. “That we were better than that.”

“She thought we would be like Eythos,” he said, his arm tightening around me. “We are not.”

“We aren’t,” I whispered.

Ash went still for a moment and then moved, guiding me onto my back. Our eyes locked. “You’re upset.”

“You’re reading my emotions.”

“You’re projecting,” he stated, shifting his weight onto his elbow. He cupped my cheek. “Do not spend a second being sad about Veses’ fate.”

“I’m not.”

In the slivers of moonlight, I saw his eyebrow rise. “You’re such a terrible liar.”

“Whatever,” I muttered.

Ash sighed. “I heard what you said to her, Sera. That you wished it could have been different for her and were sorry it wasn’t.”

I really should have kept that to myself.

“You meant that.”

“I did.” Frustration rose as my eyes continued to sting. “And I don’t even know why. I hate Veses for what she did to you and for how she ran her Court. Still do, even though she’s dead. And I don’t regret ending her. It had to happen, but…” I closed my eyes, emotion lodging in my throat. “But she wasn’t always like that. You said so yourself.”

“Neither was Embris.”

“Veses was different.”

“Why is that?” he asked.

“I…” I breathed through my nose as words worked their way around the knot in my throat. “She said it was nothing.”

Ash went still again.

“She said how Kolis treated her and the things he made her do was nothing.” My voice came out hoarse. I opened my eyes. “It wasn’t nothing. Gods know, I knew every time I said that what he did to me wasn’t nothing. And I know—” My voice cracked, and I shook my head, not wanting to shed a godsdamn tear over Veses. “I know Veses knew that, too. But she loved him. And maybe that was what turned her into what she ended up being. Always loving someone who loved someone else. I don’t know. But I can see a—”

“You should never see yourself in her,” he cut in, tipping my head back so my eyes met his. “Never.”

“I can see a part of me in her,” I continued, chest rising and falling fast. “Not the part that made her such a bitch, but the pain in her eyes. I saw it while in Dalos. She tried to hide it, but she…” A tear snuck free, and Ash immediately caught it with his finger. “But she did this—all of it—to herself. And if I…”

That was it.

If I had continued as if all that’d happened to me was nothing, I could’ve ended up like her. Maybe not as bad. Perhaps even worse, but in a different way. Because that kind of pain and shame, that kind of heartbreak, rotted you from the inside. It destroyed the glimpses of who you once were. And perhaps that was why her death bothered me. Because I could’ve done it to myself. Killing her was like killing that one part of me that had reluctantly connected to her.

I didn’t have to say all of that, but Ash still understood. I knew he did as he kissed each tear that started off as grief and then became relief. When they stopped, and I eventually found myself nestled once more against his chest, I finally fell asleep.

And I slept deeply.

Until I woke before dawn, gasping for air as a shout of fury slammed around in my head. I felt that cord. The connection that signaled the balance being righted once more. Even with my eyes open, I could see the darkness descending—black streaked with crimson.