Unease stirred as I stood there, leaving me a little—or a lot—confused. I didn’t think it had anything to do with Kolis, despite the fact he was a threat in more ways than…five hundred. It was the idea that such a being as a Primal of Life and Death was impossible. But I wasn’t sure why. My intuition was quiet again.

Except for one thing.

Even when Kolis was dealt with, a being of such power was not impossible.

Gold spun before me.

Gilded bones.

Gold chests.

Chains.

And I felt him behind me, beneath me, his body too hot. Too still. Weight crushed my chest.

Crushed me.

“I cannot believe you would bring him up as I hold you,” Kolis hissed in my ear.

I twisted in his grip and saw him, his flesh thinning until the dull gleam of bone was visible.

No, this isn’t real.

“That you would even speak his name.”

I couldn’t get air into my lungs as I stared into pools of gold-flecked eather.

This isn’t real.

I’d escaped.

I’d freed myself.

His lips peeled back, baring elongated fangs.

No. No. No—

“Sera.”

Upon the sound of my name—the sound of his voice—I could breathe again. Air poured into my lungs. The stale scent of lilacs got washed away by fresh air and citrus. Kolis faded away, dissipating like smoke. The gilded cage collapsed, crumbling into nothing.

The nightmare disappeared into a gray, tranquil void, and this time, I thought I felt the cool touch of Ash’s lips against my brow. As I slipped further into the void of sleep, I thought I heard Ash’s voice again, telling me that it was only a dream. That I was safe, now and always. That he was there and would watch over me. Keeping the nightmares at bay.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Standing in the center of the bedchamber, I smoothed my hands over the fitted black vest and simple, quarter-sleeve shirt of the same color I’d found in the pile of clothing by the wardrobe. After being forced to wear transparent gowns for weeks, I had immediately grabbed a pair of leggings. There were other tops in my size, too, one that reminded me of the style Ash and his guards wore, but it seemed too…fancy for right now.

A curl toppled forward as I looked down at myself. Gods, I was so happy to be wearing clothing of my choosing again. But as I stood there, it suddenly struck me why I hated the gowns Kolis forced me to wear.

Not having a real choice was a huge part of it, but it was also that they reminded me of my failed presentation as the Consort—the gown I’d been forced to wear when I was first taken to the Shadow Temple. It, too, had hidden absolutely nothing and put me and nearly every inch of my body on display.

How I hadn’t made the connection until now was beyond me.

My stomach roiled so suddenly and sharply that I smacked my hand over my mouth out of fear that the breakfast Ash had scrounged up for us might come right back up. Closing my eyes, I waited for the wave of nausea to pass, half-afraid that it wouldn’t. But it did after a couple of minutes.

Gods. I needed to get a grip.

I blew out a long breath as I glanced over the bare walls and the scant pieces of furniture, still a little rattled by how vivid everything was. The space contained only the necessities: a long, tall wardrobe and several chests, the small, round table by the couch, and the new charcoal-gray armchair sitting near the bed. I’d heard Nektas’s voice when I was in stasis.

Was that where he’d sat?

Nektas was right last night, I thought as I took in the rumpled blankets, discarded clothing, and used dinnerware on the table. The chambers did looked lived in. There was life here now. Not much, but enough that it had started to chip away at the kind of existence Ash had had for a little over two centuries due to Kolis’s far-reaching and toxic influence. One that allowed for no warmth and no time or desire to form attachments, bonds, or even interests.

But that was changing. And it would continue to change.

I turned to the doors. After eating, Ash went back downstairs to check on things. When he returned, it would be time to meet with the others and go over what Ash and I had discussed last night.

I swallowed, shifting from one foot to the other. I knew I didn’t have to wait for him to return. I could go downstairs now. I could go anywhere I wanted. Well, mostly. But given how my heart pounded, you would’ve thought a pit of forked-tongue vipers waited just beyond.

Feeling foolish—and not in a good way—I let my head fall back. I couldn’t believe that I was hiding in my bedchamber because the idea of facing anyone without Ash stressed me out. Especially not after everything I’d been through—all I’d done.

That didn’t mean Ash’s pep talk had gone into one ear and out the other. I just wasn’t getting a grip yet. I would before we met with the Shadowlands gods.

Thinking about that caused a small spike of anxiety as I turned. A thin line of light between the balcony door’s curtains caught my attention. I started toward them as I sensed the presence of another drawing near. A god but not…

A series of quiet knocks jerked my head toward the chamber doors. Knowing Ash wasn’t who I’d felt and that he wouldn’t do that when entering his own chambers, I hesitated as I wrapped my hand around the door handle.

“Sera?” A soft, muffled voice came from the hallway. “It’s Aios.”

Now, I understood what I had felt. Aios wasn’t just a goddess, nor was she a risen Primal. She was somewhere in between since I’d brought her back.

I yanked the door open, half-surprised that I didn’t tear it right off its hinges. Whatever I had been about to say vanished as I came face-to-face with the fiery, red-haired goddess. For a moment, I was struck speechless. The last time I’d seen her, she’d been so terribly wounded, drenched in blood, dead. And then…not dead. I knew she lived, but seeing her standing here, healthy and whole, sent a shudder of relief through me.

“Your eyes,” Aios rasped, her once-citrine and now pearly silver eyes widening as she stared at me. A hand flew to her throat—to the delicate silver chain Rhain had returned to her.

Swallowing, I tore my gaze from the necklace before everything that involved the piece of jewelry took center stage. “I assume they’re still silver and green?”

Aios blinked. “They…most definitely are.” Her stare lingered on mine for a fraction longer, and then she crossed the threshold, throwing her arms around me.

Unused to such a physical expression from anyone outside of Ash, I returned the embrace with stiff, awkward arms.

Gods, why did I have to be so damn weird?

“I’m sorry,” she said, her arms tightening around me. “I know I should greet you a certain way now, and I have this impression that you’re as fond of hugs as Bele, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“I can’t picture Bele hugging anything.” Inhaling the vanilla scent clinging to Aios’s hair, my arms finally relaxed. “Not even a cute, cuddly kitten.”

Her laugh was shaky as I closed my eyes and let myself soak in her embrace. Besides Nektas—and gods, Ector—Aios had been one of the few to warm up to me when I first arrived in the Shadowlands. I’d thought we might actually become friends, but when she learned that I’d originally believed I had to kill Ash to save my kingdom, she hadn’t been angry. No, it was worse. She had been saddened and disappointed. And, gods, I’d rather be on the receiving end of her anger than that. Her disappointment cut far deeper. So, this hug? It made all the awkwardness more than worth it.

“You saved my life,” Aios whispered hoarsely. “I wish there was something better than these two words, but…thank you.”