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October 23 - October 24, 2021
“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,” my old nursemaid Odetta had once said. But, once again, I looked like the Chosen—those third sons and daughters born in a shroud, destined to serve the Primal of Life in his Court.
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.
He chuckled darkly, sidestepping my kick. “No, thank you.” The smothered sound I made against his palm was one born of pure, unfettered rage. That midnight laugh came again, quieter, but I felt it along every inch of my back and hips. “You’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” Feisty? Little? Thing?
“You’re a god,” I whispered.
“Kiss me,” he ordered. My temper flared. I hated being told what to do. And if I were being honest, that had started long ago. Maybe that was one of the reasons I’d been rejected. But his demand made sense. It would appear quite odd for us to just stand here like this, doing nothing but glaring at each other. So, I kissed him. A god.
“It…it’s very inappropriate to take my blood,”—I heard myself saying—“when I don’t even know your name.” “That was the only inappropriate thing about what just occurred?” “Well, no. There was a whole lot of inappropriate in there.”
“Yeah, well, I’m still upset with him for whipping that horse because of his foolishness and lack of skill,” I retorted. “Every time I see him, I want to punch him again.” “While his behavior toward that animal was abominable, blackening the Heir of Lasania’s eye and then threatening to use the whip in the same manner as he did was not the wisest choice.”
She’s so much cooler than poppy!
“What does liessa mean?” The god didn’t answer for what felt like a small eternity. “It has different meanings to different people.” The eather pulsed in his eyes, swirling once more through the silver. “But all of them mean something beautiful and powerful.”
Heart emoji
“The petals were the color of blood in the moonlight and remained folded in on themselves until someone approached. When they opened, they appeared incredibly delicate, as if they would shatter in the softest wind, but they grew wild and fiercely, any place there was even a hint of soil. They even grew between the cracks of stone, and they were incredibly unpredictable.” Did I really remind him of a delicate, beautiful flower? I wasn’t sure what part of me could be considered delicate. A fingernail? “How are flowers unpredictable?” “Because these were quite temperamental.”
Damn
“This would be even harder to explain, but I imagine it’s a lot like two souls meant to be one, each finding the other.” She was looking at Holland again, and my heart gave another leap. “Both of you may have felt more comfortable around each other than you would others.”
wow this makes so much sense now
“Like cities forever laid to waste. Kingdoms shattered and rebuilt. Great and…terrible wars—wars between Kings…and between Queens.” Her brows pinched. “A forest made of trees the color of blood.” Nyktos frowned. “The Red Woods?” She nodded. “But in the mortal realm, and full of death. Steeped in the sins and secrets of hundreds and hundreds of years.”
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh
“But I also saw her. I saw them. A Chosen and a descendant of the First.” The eather burned brightly in Penellaphe’s eyes as they met mine. “A Queen of Flesh and Fire. And him, a King risen from Blood and Ash, who ruled side by side with man. And they…they felt right. They felt like hope.”
OTP FOREVER
“‘From the desperation of golden crowns and born of mortal flesh, a great primal power rises as the heir to the lands and seas, to the skies and all the realms. A shadow in the ember, a light in the flame, to become a fire in the flesh. When the stars fall from the night, the great mountains crumble into the seas, and old bones raise their swords beside the gods, the false one will be stripped from glory until two born of the same misdeeds, born of the same great and Primal power in the mortal realm. A first daughter, with blood full of fire, fated for the once-promised King. And the second
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OH NO WHAT DO YOU MEAN THATS FUCKING IT?!
“Your paths have always ended in your death before you even saw twenty-one years of life.”
“You may be a Primal,”—Holland’s attention shifted to him—“but you are not a Fate.” “Fate can go fuck itself,” Nyktos growled. His skin had thinned, revealing the swirling shadows underneath. “If only.” Holland’s smile was faint, clearly unbothered by the storm brewing within Nyktos. “Death always finds you, one way or another.” His focus had returned to me. “By the hands of a god or a misinformed mortal. By Kolis himself, and even by Death.”
“It’s love,” Holland answered. “Love is the one thing that not even fate can contend with.” I blinked. That was all I could do. Nyktos appeared to be as dumbstruck as I was, unable to formulate a single response. “Love is more powerful than fate.”
OH
“‘Born of mortal flesh, a shadow in the ember,’”
“It does.” Slowly, Nyktos turned back. His gaze met mine, and he didn’t look away. He didn’t blink. “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.”
WHOA
