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August 28 - September 4, 2025
“You may not be Chosen, but you were born into this realm, shrouded in the veil of the Primals. A Maiden as the Fates promised. And you shall leave this realm touched by life and death,”
Tonight, on my seventeenth birthday, I would become the Primal of Death’s Consort.
But even though she had carried me for nine months and brought me into this world, I had never been hers. I had never been the people’s Princess. I’d always belonged to the Primal of Death.
I spoke the truth. I could snap his neck before he even had a chance to raise a hand against me. Because of my destiny, I was better trained than most of the Royal Guards that protected him.
If they learned that the songs and poems written about him had been based on a fable, what was left of the Mierel Dynasty would surely collapse.
And when he’d granted King Roderick’s request, this was the price the Primal of Death had requested: the firstborn daughter of the Mierel bloodline as his Consort.
There was no way he could know that in the two hundred years it had taken for me to be born, the knowledge of how to kill a Primal had been obtained. Love. They had one fatal weakness that made them vulnerable enough to be killed, and that was love. Make him fall in love, become his weakness, and end him. That was my destiny.
Shadowstone. The shadowstone dagger was rare in the mortal realm.
From what I’d been taught about Iliseeum, their hierarchy was similar to that of the mortal one. Instead of kingdoms, each Primal ruled over a Court, and in place of noble titles, they had gods who answered to their Courts. Ten Primals held Court in Iliseeum. Ten that ruled over everything that lay between the skies and the seas, from love to birth, war and peace, life, and…yes, even death.
Dear gods, it was eather, the very essence of the gods and the Primals. I’d never seen one use it like this, nor did I think it would ever be necessary to kill a mortal in this way. It simply wasn’t needed.
None of this concerned me. None of what the gods chose to do concerned any mortal. We all knew that while the gods could be benevolent and giving, many could be cruel, and they could be vicious when offended.
And another tiny, hidden part of me, one born the moment my mother’s slap had stung my cheek, had stopped caring if I lived or died.
That was a good question since mortals were forbidden from interfering in the actions of gods. To do so was considered an insult against the Primal they served.
“Every mortal knows better than to interfere with a god.”
He faced me. “Just because I’m not mortal doesn’t mean I run around murdering people or allowing them to get themselves killed.” I sent a pointed look in the direction of the tunnel entrance. His chin dipped, his features sharpening in the silvery light. “I am not them,” he said, low and deadly soft.
We’d kissed out of necessity, and it had been pleasant. Okay. It had been more than that, and I feared I’d inevitably spend my life comparing every future kiss to this one, but none of that explained the bizarre feeling I had that I shouldn’t be walking away from him. But I did. I walked away from the god, leaving him in the shadowy tunnel, and I didn’t look back. Not once.
As the Maiden, it wasn’t even a desire that could take shape as I grew and got older. It was never part of the plan because even if I had been successful and managed to make the Primal of Death fall in love with me, creation of a child wasn’t possible between a mortal and a Primal.
If I had a child, or if any descendant of mine had been harmed, I would burn through both realms just so I could flay the skin from the body of the one who’d hurt them.
“Gods don’t kill in the middle of the night, take the body, and leave nothing behind. It’s almost as if they didn’t want this to be known. And that is, well, not normal.” “You’d be correct.” He drew a finger along the edge of the desk as he walked, the silent slide of his fingertip catching my attention. “That is why I am so interested. This isn’t the first time they’ve killed like this.”
“You should be afraid of many things.” “I’m afraid of nothing, and that includes you.”
“To the point it borders on foolishness. And you know what I’ve found about the foolishly brave? There’s a reason they often rush to greet death instead of having the wisdom to run from it. What is your reason?” he asked. “What drowns out that fear and pushes you to run so eagerly toward death?”
But there was only one way I would ever leave Lasania, and that would be when I died.
But I had a soft spot for animals—well, except for barrats. Animals didn’t judge. They didn’t care about worthiness. They didn’t choose to use or hurt another. They simply lived and expected to either be left alone or loved. That was all.
Whatever wound or injury that had taken them simply vanished. It all seemed unbelievable, but that was my gift. It allowed me to sense that a death had just occurred—like it had done with Andreia. It also brought the dead back to life,
I believed all living beings had souls. Animals were one thing, and mortals were completely different. To bring back a mortal felt unthinkable. It was…it seemed like a line that couldn’t be uncrossed, and there was too much power in that—in the choice to intervene or not. That was the kind of power and choice I didn’t want.
“What you can do is a gift, a wonderful one that is a part of who you are,” he’d said, kneeling so we were at eye level. “But it could become dangerous for you if others were to learn that you could possibly bring back their loved ones. It could anger the gods and Primals, for you to decide who should return to life and who should not. It is a gift given by the King of Gods, one that should be held close to your heart and only ever used when you’re ready to become who you were destined to be. Until then, you are not a Primal. Play as one, and the Primals might think you are.”
It was a strange feeling, knowing that I had taken a life and then gave one back in the span of a few hours.
“You are the Queen the people of Lasania need.”
“Be careful how hard you pray. A god or a Primal just might answer.”
I’d never been gifted anything in my life. Not on the Rites when gifts were often exchanged among family and friends. Not on my birthday. But I had been given a gift now—a beautiful, useful, and wholly unexpected one. And it had been a god who’d given it to me. Ash.
She was strong, Sera. She was the kind of warrior that fought back through the grief of losing her life at such a young age. Through the loss of peace and control, no matter how badly the odds were stacked against her. That’s why you remind me of her.”
“That what you just did is nothing short of a blessing.” She appeared as if she wished to shake me. “You’re a blessing, Sera. No matter what anyone says or believes, you are a blessing. You always have been. You need to know that.”
“My hands are special sometimes. That’s all.” “It’s not your hands. It’s not even your gift, and that is what it is. A gift. Not a failure. You’re not a failure.”
I had done as Odetta had warned. Played like a Primal.
There were only ten beings in either realm that were powerful enough to tear open the realms. A Primal.
“The One who is Blessed. I am the Guardian of Souls and the Primal God of Common Men and Endings.”
“I am Nyktos, ruler of the Shadowlands, the Primal of Death.”
“You should’ve thought about that before you picked up that whip,” the Primal growled. “And touched what is mine.” What is mine?
Apparently, I was just forgettable while my entire life had only ever been about him. And because of him, the last three years of my life had been…well, they had been nothing but pain, disappointment, and unfulfilled duty. Every part of my being centered on him as my chest continued to rise and fall rapidly.
Now, every part of me chafed at the idea of becoming someone else to gain the love of another. If that was what it took to make someone fall in love, then I didn’t think I wanted anything to do with it.
You wanted his death.” His silver eyes brightened. “I do not doubt for one second that you earned it.”
Do you not value your life at all?” I didn’t even bother answering that.
“It doesn’t matter what either of us wants now, liessa. This is the hand we’ve been dealt,” he said. “And we must go with it. I will not leave you here to be executed.”
“The deal linked us on a basic level. I knew when you were born. If you were ever seriously injured or close to death, I would know.”
“A lie by omission is still a lie,”
“But you spoke with no fear. You acted fearlessly. Each time I saw you,” he continued. “You interested me, and I hadn’t expected that. I didn’t want that. But at that lake, you were just Seraphena,” he said, and my breath snagged at the sound of my name spilling from his lips. It was the first time he’d said it. “And I was just Ash. There was no deal. No perceived obligations. You stayed simply because you wanted to. I stayed only because I wanted to. You let me touch you because that was what you wanted, not because you felt as if you had to. Maybe I should’ve told you, but I was…enjoying
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They were the guardians of Iliseeum. I knew they were real, but I couldn’t believe I was actually seeing one—couldn’t believe I was face to face with a dragon.
“I don’t know the circumstances that led to your arrival, but what I do know is that I trust no one in either realm more than Nyktos, nor would I feel safer anywhere else,” she said, and her gaze met mine.
I can taste your emotions. Not all Primals can do it, but I have always been able to, as all who carried my mother’s blood in them could.”
“It is not often that a Primal dies. The loss of a being so powerful can create a ripple effect that can even be felt in the mortal realm. Could even set in motion an event that has the potential to unravel the fabric that binds our realms together.” He swished the remaining liquid in his glass. “The only way to prevent that from occurring is to have their power—their eather—transferred to another who can withstand it.” His hand stilled. “That is what happened when my father died. All that was his transferred to me. The Shadowlands. The Court. His responsibilities.”
