A Light in the Flame (Flesh and Fire #2)(7)

“There would be no stopping such a being,” Holland added. “There could be no balance. Therefore, the Fates ensured long ago that such power must be split and that an absence of either ember would cause a collapse of all the realms. It wouldn’t be like the Rot—a slow death. It would be sudden and absolute for all. Kolis cannot Ascend another Primal to take the place of a fallen. By killing Nyktos, he’d doom himself. He understands that much, at least.”

Yeah, except I had technically done that with Bele, paving the way for her to replace Hanan if he fell.

But knowing that Kolis wouldn’t kill Nyktos was a relief. Still, how could he be sure what Kolis would or wouldn’t do? He couldn’t. Kolis didn’t sound like the most rational Primal.

Frustration surged through me. “What does Kolis even want? What is his goal with these creations of his?”

Holland snorted. “That is a good question.”

“One you know the answer to and can’t share?” I countered.

“I actually don’t know,” he said. “Fates don’t know the inner workings of one’s mind.”

Fates also weren’t at all helpful.

“He wants to rule over all—Iliseeum and the mortal realm,” Nyktos answered. “The Courts in Iliseeum would replace the kingdoms in the mortal realm. There would only be him and his sycophants, and mortals would be put in their place—or so he believes. Beneath those greater than them. And I imagine the mockery of life he has been creating is being done in an attempt to aid his cause.”

So Kolis was creating an army of mortals controlled by hunger? Unnerved, I squeezed my knees until I felt the bones beneath my fingers. “That can’t be possible.”

Holland opened his mouth.

“If you say that anything is possible, even the impossible, I might scream,” I warned. The Fate closed his mouth. “Mortals would fight back, even those most loyal to the gods. He’d have to battle an entire realm, and then what would be left for him to rule over?”

“It wouldn’t be easy, and it would end in the kind of death even I would have a hard time imagining,” Nyktos said. “He would be left to rule over a kingdom of bones.”

“But will that knowledge stop him?” Penellaphe asked quietly. “Has it?”

Didn’t appear to have.

But Kolis wouldn’t get what he wanted either. Not after I died. He’d rule over a kingdom of bones.

Unable to sit any longer, I stood and reached for the shadowstone dagger Nyktos had returned to me, only to realize that I’d left it in his office. I faced Holland. “How long does the mortal realm have?” I swallowed thickly. “Once I die.”

“You won’t die,” Nyktos stated as if he had the authority to make such a claim.

He didn’t.

“She will,” Holland said quietly. “She will die without the love of the one who Ascends her—a love that cannot be ignored. A love that must be acknowledged.” He looked at Nyktos. “And you have—”

“We heard you the first time,” I snapped as the Primal thrust a hand through his hair.

“But you haven’t,” Holland returned. “You haven’t heard why he cannot save you as he is now.” He tilted his head to Nyktos. “Has she, Your Highness?”

Tension thickened the air as the Primal held the Arae’s stare. “No. She has not.”

Nothing could be gained from Nyktos’s expression. Unease took root. “What are you two even talking about?”

A muscle throbbed in Nyktos’s temple. “I cannot love,” he bit out between clenched teeth, speaking to Holland. “I made sure that would never be a weakness someone could exploit.”

Something told me that this was more than just him making such a claim. “And how can you ensure that?”

“Maia,” he said, speaking of the Primal of Love, Beauty, and Fertility. “I had her remove my kardia.”

Penellaphe gasped, her eyes widening with shock. “Good Fates,” she whispered. “I have known none who’ve done that.”

I was obviously missing something and also getting tired of asking questions. “What is a kardia?”

“It’s the piece of the soul—the spark—that all living creatures are born and die with. It allows them to love another not of their blood irrevocably, selflessly.” Penellaphe swallowed. “It must have been terribly painful to have that torn from you. To truly be unable to love.”





Chapter 2





“It was barely an inconvenience,” Nyktos muttered, clearly not pleased with the topic, and I…

I was stunned.

I’d believed that Nyktos could never allow himself to love. Not when he saw it as a weakness and also as a weapon to be wielded against him—just as I had sought to use it. But I hadn’t known that he was truly incapable of feeling love.

I was shocked that he would do that to himself, even though I understood why he would, after everything he’d been through. But I didn’t understand because he was…

“You care about others,” I said, shaking my head in confusion. “I know you do. How—?”

“Caring and loving are two vastly different things,” Nyktos said. “I am not incapable of caring for or about another. The kardia is simply unable to sway me. Something one would think all Primals would ensure.”