I did.

Or at least I hoped I did and that he believed it was too much of a risk, but I didn’t tell him about our plan for Sotoria. I also hadn’t told him I was pregnant. Of course, he could already be very aware of that, but a tiny part of me doubted I understood what Holland truly wanted. Because he, too, had intervened in ways.

“I know talk of the Ancients is concerning,” Holland began.

Ash laughed harshly. “Yes. It’s concerning.”

“But it is not your problem. Not yet,” he said.

My frown deepened. “That’s real reassuring.”

“Kolis is your problem. Left unchecked, he will continue to shift the balance. Then, what some of the Fates may or may not want won’t matter.”

“Yeah, but if any of them are actively working against us, it is our problem,” Ash argued.

“Currently, there is only so much they can do.” Holland’s gaze moved between the two of us. “Like me, they must walk a fine line of interference because the essence has and will react on its own.”

I thought about Aydun. He had failed to mention the eirini, but he had also seemed to push me toward preventing war. “And what exactly happens if a Fate crosses that line, and the essence decides to react?”

Holland’s eyes met mine. “It would use the eather inside us to destroy us, and yes, that has happened before.”

My heart plummeted, along with any idea of asking Holland if he knew how to keep Kolis weakened and entombed for any real length of time.

Fear rose. “I know you say you walk a fine line when it comes to interfering, but I don’t want you anywhere near that line.” My heart kicked up. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

“I’m fine. As I said, the realms would’ve let me know if I was crossing a line.” His smile caused the stars in his eyes to brighten. “But I shouldn’t linger much longer.”

Another wave of disappointment rose, and I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “We won’t ever be able to spend time together, will we? Like share a meal or just catch up?”

Holland’s smile dimmed, as did the brightness of the silver bursts in his eyes. He shook his head.

I inhaled sharply, closing my eyes. Sorrow swelled in my chest, the weight heavy and aching. When I exhaled, I felt Ash’s arm come around my waist again. “I get it. I do,” I said as Ash pulled me close to his side. I opened my eyes. “It’s just not fair.”

“It does feel that way,” Holland said quietly. “But this unfairness ensures there can be fairness.”

Taking another deep breath, I pushed the sadness aside. I had to, but it was hard.

“I should be on my way to speak with Kolis.” Rising, he approached me and clasped my arms. “I am very proud of you, Sera. Truly.” He looked at Ash, who had become my shadow as Holland let go. “And you. Your father is proud of you.”

“Is?” I felt Ash stiffen behind me.

“You released Eythos’s soul, allowing him to enter Arcadia, and Fates can travel into Arcadia,” Holland explained as Attes sat straighter in his chair. “Eythos has returned to be at Mycella’s side.”

“Oh,” I whispered, smacking a hand over my mouth as I twisted toward Ash.

The line of his shoulders went rigid. “How is that possible? Kolis destroyed her soul, ushering in her final death.”

“He attempted to, and in a way, he succeeded,” Holland shared. “But a Fate intervened.”

“Oh, my gods,” I whispered, pressing my other hand to Ash’s chest.

Ash’s eyes glistened as he stared at the Fate, and gods, if any of his tears broke free, I would sob. Like ugly sob on the floor.

“I don’t understand,” Ash said hoarsely. He folded his hand over mine.

“Neither do I.” Attes sounded as shaken as Ash.

“It is rare for a Fate to intervene in such a way, but your father was well-liked by many of them. Your mother even more.” Holland smiled, but there was a hint of sadness to it. “Perhaps one day I will be able to tell you more about how it was made possible.”

As I felt Ash’s heart pound against my palm, I thought I knew what such an act had brought upon the unknown Fate.

Their own destruction.

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

The hem of the velvety robe swished around my slippered feet as I paced the bedroom. Holland hadn’t returned by late evening, and I kept telling myself that I didn’t need to be worried about that. Kolis was the type to purposely delay agreeing to meet with us just to convince himself he had the upper hand. I was nervous about how things would go down, but it wasn’t the only thing that eventually drove me from the bedchamber.

Ash had left after dinner to check in with Theon. I’d felt him return a bit ago, but he hadn’t come back to our rooms.

I was worried about him.

Learning that your mother’s soul wasn’t completely destroyed was good news—happy news—but it was also a lot to take in. To process. And he’d been quiet ever since Holland left.

I willed my heart to slow as I went down the staircase. It had been pounding on and off all evening, and I didn’t think that was good for the babes.

As I neared the second floor, I decided to check in on Lailah really quick. Aios had awakened this afternoon and immediately wanted to go to Kithreia to inspect its current state, but it wasn’t safe for her to do so yet. Phanos’s ships had moved toward Dalos, but that was still too close, and our forces wouldn’t have arrived yet. Instead, she had left for Sirta, and despite knowing that Bele would keep her safe while she was in a vulnerable state, I hadn’t wanted her to go. Bele’s Court was also at risk if Phanos went after her.

Our armies were rapidly thinning as we attempted to protect the Courts. Which meant we would have a battle on our hands if Kolis brought Phanos’s armies to the Bonelands, along with those who’d fled to Dalos—which he most likely would. We could lose more people.

No wonder my heart kept racing.

Exhaling roughly, I walked the second-floor hall, picking up on Attes’s presence. I stopped for a moment and then forged on. Quietly, I cracked open the door.

Lailah rested on the bed, her mass of tight braids lying on a chest that rose and fell steadily. My gaze shifted to the Primal sitting at her side.

Attes sat with his feet resting on the edge of the bed, slumped a little in the armchair, sandy-brown waves tumbling over his forehead and cheeks. He looked asleep. I started to close the door.

“You’re not going to say hello?” Attes said without looking up, the tone of his voice flatter than it had been when I saw him earlier.

I stopped. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“Nah.” Attes lifted his head then. His scar stood out starkly against his paler-than-normal skin. “I’m just meditating. Never tried it before. Thought now was as good a time as ever.”

I arched a brow. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Not particularly well.” One side of his lips curved up. There was no hint of a dimple. The grin was empty. “The whiskey I tried to take from your husband’s office would’ve probably helped, but instead, I was lectured by a Primal significantly younger than me that the last thing I needed was to drink myself into a stupor.”

I probably wouldn’t have stopped Attes, but then again, I had a history of not making the greatest life choices. “Have you slept at all?”

He shifted in the chair, draping an arm over the back. “Yeah.”

I had a feeling he was lying. “Have you eaten? Fed?”

A soft laugh rumbled from him. “I’m fine, Sera.”

“No, you’re not,” I said, and his gaze finally met mine. “I don’t expect you to be. No one would.”

He stared at me for a long moment. “You sound like Nyktos.”

“If he said something like that, he was speaking the truth.” I leaned against the doorframe. “I’m sorry, Attes.”

Thick lashes lowered. “So am I.”

Neither of us said anything for several moments. We both just watched Lailah, which I doubted she would be too happy to discover if she woke up. It was Attes who ended the silence.