“You’re not an oracle,” Nero said. “And you never will be. You’re umbra sangi.” Cerise whipped her gaze to him. “What does that mean—what does any of that mean?” “I want to know, too,” Daerick agreed. “I think the direct translation is hot blooded, but that’s all I could find out.” “Fire blood,” Nero corrected. He jutted his chin at her. “You’re a descendent of the goddess. Her life force runs in your veins.”
