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November 7 - November 23, 2025
“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? Another laugh tickled the back of my throat. Now he claimed me?
The Primal of Death. My would-be husband. Nyktos. The very key to stopping the slow, painful destruction of my kingdom. Suddenly, that feeling of familiarity made sense. I had heard his voice before. I have no need of a Consort. The Primal inhaled sharply as emotions rolled through me, wave after wave, crashing into a rising tide of so many feelings that I choked on them—the disbelief, the hope, the dread, and the anger. So much anger. “You,” I croaked.
“You made a deal. You didn’t fulfill it, Ash.” His jaw locked as his gaze returned to mine. “Why do you think I’m here now?”
“Is there no sun?” I asked, wetting my lips. “Not in the Shadowlands.”
“It’s okay,” Ash told me, and I realized I was once again clutching his arm. “Nektas won’t harm you. He’s just curious.” Just curious? I flinched as the dragon’s hot breath lifted the hair around my face. Nektas let out a soft purring sound as he tilted his head even closer and then lowered it so it was only inches above Odin’s mane. “I think he wants you to pet him,” Ash said. “What?” I whispered.
“A long time ago, a very powerful Primal befriended the dragons, despite being unable to communicate with them. He wanted to learn their stories, their histories, and being quite young at the time, he was rather…impulsive in his actions. He knew one way he could talk to them was to give them a godly form—a dual life. One where they could shift between that of a dragon and a godly form.” This young Primal he spoke of had to be Kolis. That was the only Primal who could create any form of life. “They can…they can look like you and me?” “For the most part,” he confirmed. I really wanted to know
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“They weren’t the only ones this young Primal gave a dual life to.”
There was no flame. The candles glowed a bright yellow, nonetheless, as did the sconces on black pillars that stretched upward to the second floor. “It’s Primal energy,” Ash explained, seeing what I stared at. “It powers the lighting throughout the palace and Lethe.”
“Theon. Lailah. This is Sera. She is a guest.” “I sort of figured she was a guest,” Theon remarked. “Or at least I hoped you didn’t decide to start following the family tradition of kidnapping mortal girls.” Wait. What? Ash’s jaw hardened. “Unlike some, nothing about that is appealing to me.”
“The draken’s name is Reaver-Butt?” I blurted. Lailah laughed softly as she sent me a quick smile. “His name is Reaver,” she said, and he hopped on his hind legs. “But I like to add the butt part. He seems to enjoy it, too.”
“Why does no one else live here?” Aios’s smile finally faded away. “It wouldn’t be safe for them to do so.”
I looked down and gasped. Color. I saw color. Beyond the washed-out courtyard, there were trees. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them grew between the palace and the glittering lights of Lethe, and they were nothing like the ones I had seen on the road into the Shadowlands. Their trunks were gray, as were the twisted, sweeping branches, but their limbs weren’t bare. These were full of heart-shaped leaves. Leaves the color of blood.
“You lie so prettily,” he murmured.
“You have no idea what I was feeling—” “Actually, I do. I know exactly what you were feeling then and what you’re feeling now. Your anger is hot and acidic, but your disbelief is cool and tarty, reminding me of iced lemon. There is something else,” he said as my heart stuttered, and my eyes opened. “Not fear. I can’t quite place it, but I can taste it. 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.”
The intensity of his stare scalded. Attraction. Desire. He was definitely attracted to me. He wanted me. I reminded myself that was something I could definitely work with. “I’m wet.” “Fuck,” he rasped, his gaze tracking the droplets of water as they coursed over my breasts, the curve of my stomach, and headed lower still, between my thighs. My skin tingled everywhere his gaze followed. “Can you help me with that?” The tips of his fangs became visible as his lips parted. “Trouble,” he murmured thickly. “You are trouble, liessa.” Something beautiful and powerful…
HOLY MOLY!!
He sank a finger inside, parting the flesh. I cried out, grasping his arm. I hadn’t forgotten the shocking contradiction of his coldness against my heat, but no memory did it justice. I shook. “I remember how you showed me the way you like it. I play that over and over in my head. I could write a fucking tome on it by now.” His thumb continued moving. “When I’m fisting my cock, I remember how you held my hand against you at the lake.” “Oh, gods,” I gasped. “Do you…do you really?” “More times than I should admit.” His finger pumped in and out of me, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.
Oh my lanta
“I know I’m about to sound repetitive, but I cannot understand why anyone would do that. You’re the Primal—” “Of Death. I’m powerful. One of the most powerful. I can kill quicker than most. I can deliver lasting punishment that goes beyond death. I’m feared by mortals, gods, and the Primals, even those who push.” Ash faced me as he took another drink. “And the reason some push has to do with that question you seem rather obsessed with. Well, one of two questions you have asked multiple times. The one with the very complicated answer best not answered while one is bathing.” It took me a moment.
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“And did they…like each other?” His chin lowered. “They loved each other very much, from what I recall.” “Then I’m sure you understand why I’m even more confused that your father would’ve asked for a Consort when he already had one.” “He no longer had one when he made that deal,” Ash corrected quietly. “My mother…she died during the birthing.”
“Godlings?” I repeated, brows pinching. “The offspring of a mortal and a god,” he explained. “If a godling then has a child with a mortal, that child would carry some mark upon them, too, but they would not be a godling.”
“He’s bonded to me.” Ash paused. “All who reside here are bonded to me. Just as the draken in the other Courts are bonded to those Primals.”
“What I want is your taste on my tongue again. What I want is to be so deep inside you that I forget my own fucking name.”
AHHH
I never should’ve been the first daughter born after the deal had been made. Anyone or anything would be far better suited for this task than me. Possibly even a barrat.
“Wherever a god or Primal is entombed, or where their blood spills, you will see a blood tree. It serves as either a memorial or a warning,” he explained. “Either way, it is not land one should ever disturb.”
“Why are you taking that risk now?” Thick lashes lifted, and steel-gray eyes pierced mine. “Because I can’t seem to stop myself, even though I know better. Even though I know I’ll probably end up hating myself for it. Even though you will probably end up hating me.”
“But she will fixate on what she perceives she cannot have. And if she is unsuccessful in achieving that, she can be very resentful.” “And she wants Ash?” I surmised. “Only because he has never shown her that type of attention,” she answered. “To her, it’s personal. Even though he’s never shown interest in anyone until you.” Until you.
“The longer a Primal or a god lives, the greater the risk of them becoming more eather than person.
“For those who do not wish to sleep, they can enter what we call Arcadia, a place very much like the Vale. A garden, so to speak. It allows for an Ascension of another and peace for the Primal.”
“To answer your question about the coronation… Should you be concerned? The answer is yes,” she advised, and I turned to her. “And if I may give you a piece of advice? No matter what happens, do not show fear.”
“I knew his parents. I called them my friends, and I call Ash one of my own,” he answered, head straightening. His gaze caught mine and held it. “I think I will call you one of my own.” I really had to be asleep. “Why?” “Because you’ve given him peace.”
“You,” Ash whispered, his deep voice hoarse. I looked over at him, and I…I’d never seen him so stunned, so exposed. “You carry an ember of life.”
Ember of life. You carry the ember of life in you, Sir Holland’s voice whispered through me. You carry hope within you. You carry the possibility of a future. Reaver called out again, making that strange, staggered sound, echoed by Jadis. From outside the palace, a deeper call answered in a chorus that rattled the herbs hanging from the walls.
I didn’t know it would even work. I’m not even sure how I ended up with this—this gift.” “I know how.” His breath glanced off my lips, sending a strange mixture of nervousness and anticipation through me. “I know exactly who you got the ember of life from. The Primal of Life.” I figured that. “Kolis?” There was a harsh sound in the chamber, very possibly a curse, and Ash laughed again, this time colder. “My father.” My entire being focused on him. “What?” “My father was the true Primal of Life.” Ash’s cool fingers touched my cheek. “Until his brother stole it from him. His twin, Kolis.”
“So…Kolis is your uncle?” My voice sounded so very far away. He nodded. “They were twins. Identical. One fated to represent life and the other death. My father, Eythos, the Primal of Life, and my uncle Kolis, the Primal of Death. They ruled together for eons as they were meant to.” A wave of goosebumps rippled over my skin as my arms fell to my sides. “What happened?” “My uncle fell in love.”
“The act was…catastrophic.” Nektas shifted Jadis slightly. “Killing hundreds of gods that served both Eythos and Kolis and weakening many Primals—and even killing a few—forcing the next in line to rise from godhood into Primal power. Many of my brethren were also killed.” Nektas’s features turned harder as he dropped a quick kiss atop Jadis’s head. “The mortal realm felt it in the form of earthquakes and tsunamis. Many areas were leveled. Large portions of land broke off, some forming islands while other cities sank into the oceans and seas. It was chaotic for quite some time, but Eythos knew
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“When she died again, my father…he did something to ensure that his brother could never reach her. Something only the Primal of Death can do. With the aid of the Primal, Keella, he marked her soul.” I tipped forward. “What does that mean?” “They designated her soul for rebirth,” Aios answered. “Meaning that Sotoria’s soul never enters the Shadowlands and is continuously reborn upon death—over and over.”
“It was Kolis who killed my mother, striking her down while she was pregnant with me,” Ash shared, tone flat. “He did it because he believed that it was only fair that my father lose his love just as he did. He destroyed my mother’s soul, ushering in her final death.”
“Kolis still retained some ember of death in him, just like my father retained some of his ember of life. Enough power for Kolis to capture and hold a soul. He has my father’s soul.”
“They weren’t right when they came back,” she said, and a chill swept over my skin. “They were different. Cold. Lifeless. Some of them stayed indoors, only moving about during the brief hours of night. Their eyes changed.” A far-off look crept into hers. “They became the color of shadowstone. Black. They always looked…hungry.” Something about her words tugged at the recesses of my mind. Something familiar.
“He called them his reborn. His Revenants. He said they were a work in progress.” She laughed, but it was weak. “I heard him saying once that all he needed was his graeca to perfect them.”
“And touch what is mine?”
Slowly, Nyktos faced me. “What you did is impossible. An ember of life shouldn’t have been enough for what you did,” he breathed, searching my features as if he were looking for something. “You didn’t just bring her back. You…you Ascended her.”
“It’s you.” A sort of wonder filled his features, widening his eyes and parting his lips. “You are the heir to the lands and seas, skies and realms. A Queen instead of a King. You are the Primal of Life.”
