A Light in the Flame (Flesh and Fire #2)(11)

“Sounds like you need to figure out how to block them then.”

A ghost of a half-smile appeared but vanished quickly, and my heart seized again as I thought of what he’d done.

“When did you have this…kardia removed?” I asked.

“A while ago.”

I eyed him. “Exactly what do you consider a while?”

“A while,” he repeated.

“That’s evasive.”

“It’s more like it doesn’t matter when I had it done. Just that I did.”

I stared at him, unsure why he was being so cagey about it. “No one else knows? Just Maia?”

He nodded. “Only she and Nektas know. Neither will speak a word of it.”

I’d never met the Primal Goddess, but based on how close Nektas and Nyktos were, I didn’t doubt the draken would stay silent on such a thing. “Did it hurt? And don’t say it was barely an inconvenience. Obviously, that’s not true.”

Nyktos was silent for several moments. “The kardia is just a tiny part of the soul. Intangible. You would think that something unseen couldn’t cause much pain, but it felt like my entire chest had been cracked open, and my heart dug out by a dakkai’s claws and teeth,” he stated dispassionately. “I nearly lost consciousness, and if I had been weak, I likely would’ve slipped into stasis—the deep sleep of the gods and Primals.”

Horrified, I pressed my fist to my chest. “Why did you do it?” I asked, even though I already knew.

“I saw what the loss of love did to my father, and what love turned my uncle into,” he said. “And I refused to repeat either of those mistakes or endanger another because of what I felt for them.”

A knot lodged in my throat, and it took a moment for me to speak around it. “I’m sorry.”

He stretched his neck from one side to the other. “You shouldn’t be. I care more because I cannot love, and I believe caring for others is far more important than loving just one.”

“You… You are right,” I whispered. In a way, caring and kindness were purer without love. But I was still saddened. Shouldn’t everyone have the chance to feel love for another, whatever it felt like?

Except Kolis.

Or Tavius.

Neither of them deserved that.

“What was Holland speaking to you about?” Nyktos asked.

“Nothing important.” There was no way I would repeat any of that. I glanced at the desk as I rubbed my wrists, still not feeling the charm. A slender lamp cast a glow over the bare surface. Several moments ticked by, and I could feel his gaze on me—watching and likely seeing too much. “What are we going to do?”

“That’s a loaded question,” he remarked, exhaling deeply. “We’ll continue as planned. In the meantime, I’m positive there will be guests.”

“Unwanted visitors?”

He nodded. “Gods. Possibly even Primals. They’ll be curious about what they felt when you Ascended Bele.”

My lips tightened, and I started to pace in front of the bare shelves. “And I guess I’m supposed to remain hidden?”

“I know you don’t like hiding.”

I snorted. “What gave that away?”

“I don’t like it either,” he said, and I shot him a doubtful look. His eyebrows lowered and pulled closer together. “But, inevitably, they will see you, and even with the charm, we want to make it to the coronation before that happens.”

“And if we don’t?”

“None of them will think your arrival in the Shadowlands as my Consort, and the ripples of power they felt, are coincidental. Especially not when that unknown power was first felt in the mortal realm,” he said, speaking of when I’d brought Marisol back to life. “And not when they meet you. They’ll sense the aura of eather in you. If it hadn’t been for Bele’s Ascension, they might have assumed you were a godling. Now, they will question exactly what you are.”





Chapter 3





What you are.

Not who you are.

“And becoming your Consort will somehow stop them from questioning that?” I asked, rubbing my temple.

“No, but it will stop them from acting without concern for the consequences,” Nyktos said. “Is your head hurting? I can have the tea made for you, if so.”

“It’s not that.” At least, I hoped the dull ache had nothing to do with the Culling. The herbal mixture that helped with the Culling’s side effects hadn’t worn off this quickly before. “Wouldn’t everything be easier if we canceled the coronation? There’s really no point in holding it.”

“In case you weren’t listening in the throne room or to anything I said before that, you will be afforded a level of protection as my Consort—”

“I was listening, and I remember everything you’ve said to me,” I snapped. Wisps of eather spilled into his irises as our eyes met. “But that doesn’t explain the point behind doing it. You know what’s going to happen in five months or less. Becoming your Consort won’t stop that. I’m not going to survive the Culling. It is what it is. So, why would we welcome such a risk with a pointless coronation?”

Nyktos’s fingers began tapping his knee. “Does the idea of your death not bother you at all?”