“It’s okay.” Ash stretched, picking up an unused fork. He halted, glancing from the utensil to my hand. “You good?”

“I think so.”

Ash handed the fork over. “What exactly happens if these Ancients wake up?”

A chill went down my spine as I swallowed. “It’s worse than what the Rot would’ve done. I saw them destroying entire lands. Killing nearly everything and everyone. And those in the ground? They are the ones the combined forces of Primal, draken, god, and mortal couldn’t defeat. They could only be forced into stasis. I don’t know how they did that, but what I do know is that no matter how long they remain in the ground, they are no longer the beginning of everything—the great creators and givers of life.”

Ash had gone completely still, his gaze not leaving me as I spoke. I didn’t even think he blinked.

“If they awaken,” I said, Primal essence throbbing hotly through me, “they do so as unia and eram. The ruin and wrath of that once-great beginning.”

“Fuck,” Ash murmured.

Chilled to my very core, I exhaled slowly. “That was…dramatic-sounding.” I laughed. “Wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was dramatic.” Ash blinked several times. “Unia and eram are what many of the Ancients became before the end of their time, but any Primal can become it if their rage truly consumes them or if they go too long without feeding but manage not to go into stasis.”

A shiver spider-walked down my spine. The idea of any Primal becoming that was terrifying.

Ash picked up a piece of beef with his fork. “You know, this begs one very important question—actually, more than one. But if the existence of the true embers of life and death keep the Ancients basically entombed underground, then why would a Fate train you to kill the true Primal of Death?”

“And why did your father, who had to know this, attempt to create a weapon that could?” I tacked on.

Chewing slowly, Ash raised his brows. “Another good question.”

“Something isn’t adding up.” I brushed a curl back from my face, thinking about Holland and his kindness. I couldn’t picture him as an infinite, unending being older than the realms. I just couldn’t.

“Many things aren’t adding up, starting with why this isn’t more well-known. All Primals should be in possession of this knowledge,” he said. “Why would only my father and Kolis know?”

“I…” I frowned as I studied my fork, seeing nothing in my mind except for a humming white wall. “I…I don’t know.” Frustration rose, but I cooled it before I obliterated another utensil. “But as long as there’s balance, the Ancients won’t be a problem.” The tasty meat soured in my stomach. “You said that Kolis has been weakened due to my Ascension and that it has bought us time. I’m guessing not a whole lot of it.”

Ash nodded, trailing the edge of his fork across his plate. “Exactly how much time cannot be answered, but there’s a bit of chaos in all the Courts. I imagine most of the Primals are unsure how to react to your Ascension, which also gives us time.”

Tension crept into my muscles as I stabbed another piece of delicious cauliflower. “Because they’re using the time to decide whether to continue standing with Kolis or not.”

Interest pinched his brow. “Is that what your foresight is telling you?”

“No. Just an assumption. But I can try to answer that.” I frowned as I eyed the glass of water, trying to determine whether I was correct. Instead of being met with an explanation or silence, I hit what felt like another wall. “There’s like a…a thick cloud of static in my head. I know you can’t see static, but that’s the best I can come up with.”

“Sounds a lot like a mental shield.” His fork hovered over the cauliflower. “It’s what I see or feel when someone’s blocking me from reading their emotions.”

Sending him a wry glance, I thought that a shield was something I needed to work on. “It’s the same thing when I try to think about something I want to know about myself.” I forked up a piece of chicken. “Nektas said it was the same for Eythos when it came to anything having to do with him,” I said. I’d told Ash about me running into Nektas between bouts of sleeping and sex.

Instead of reaching for the water, I willed it to move and continued. “And had to do with balance.” I gasped as the glass shot across the table, smacking against my palm. Water sloshed over the sides, spilling onto the tabletop.

I winced, glancing at Ash. “Oops.”

His lips were pressed together like he was trying not to laugh. “Careful,” he murmured, picking up a napkin.

I grinned sheepishly. “I didn’t realize the glass would move that fast.”

Dabbing at the table, he arched a brow. “Perhaps you should practice with something you don’t need to eat or are trying to consume.”

“Good idea.” I took a careful sip of water.

Ash tossed the napkin aside. “Anyway, about the vadentia. It reminds me of how the Arae can’t see the fate of risen Primals.”

“Seems rather convenient,” I muttered.

“And unhelpful.”

My grin faded as my mind raced back to what he’d said about Hanan. Something about that nagged at me as I poked at what was left on my plate. Ash had said his anger and Hanan being out of practice had helped him defeat the other Primal, but…

“By the way, when you spoke about the Ancients Awakening?” Ash said, drawing me from my thoughts. “You sounded like the true Primal of Life.”

Curiosity rose as I sat back. “How does the true Primal of Life sound?”

“Powerful.”

The corners of my lips turned up. I liked that. Probably too much. “And how do I normally sound?”

“Beautiful.”

Rolling my eyes, I laughed. “I know I normally sound like a rambling, half-intoxicated mess.”

“I like the way you sound—how you normally talk.” His head kicked back as he eyed me. “I wouldn’t describe it as sounding like a half-intoxicated mess, though.”

“But you would describe it as being rambling?”

A half-grin appeared. “I would say entertaining.”

“Uh-huh.” I smiled at his chuckle. “By the way, have you seen Nektas since you threatened his life, and did you apologize?”

A faint flush stained Ash’s cheeks, bringing a grin to my face. “Actually, I did.” He cleared his throat. “He let me know that things were quiet.”

“That’s good.”

“It is.”

Thoughts dwelling on why things were quiet, I ate a piece of chicken. If we were lucky, Kolis was still in stasis, but that seemed doubtful. “It won’t stay that way for long.”

“No, it won’t.” He paused. “Soon, there will be a city full of people wanting to see you.”

My chest spasmed as I lowered the fork. “Who and why?”

“Some will be from Lethe,” he said, speaking of the city within the Shadowlands. “Others will be from other Courts, coming to pay homage to their new Queen.”

My stomach plopped to the general vicinity of the floor. “They don’t need to do that.”

His lopsided grin returned. “They do it because they want to, liessa. Not because they have to.”

My throat constricted. “Is there a way to make them, I don’t know, not want to?”

“It’s been centuries since there has been a true Primal of Life, Sera.” His silvery gaze met mine. “I imagine they are excited and hopeful for stability and safety.”

My panic receded for a moment as I was struck silent by the deep warmth in his eyes and voice. Love. I’d seen it before when his features softened as he looked or talked to me, but I just hadn’t recognized it for what it was. How could I when it should be impossible? But I saw and felt his love, and that mattered so damn much. My very being swelled with so much joy I felt as if I could float right to the ceiling.

His head tilted, sending one of those stray locks of hair against his jaw. “What are you thinking about?”

“Are you reading my emotions again?”