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

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

He seated himself deeply within me, lifting his mouth from mine as he clasped my cheek, stilling. “I wish…” he whispered hoarsely, dragging his fingers across the freckles sweeping over my cheek. “I wish I’d never had my kardia removed.” My eyes fluttered open. His eyes glinted with a…a sheen of red. Primal tears of grief. “I never wanted to love. Not until you, liessa.”

“Can you make me a promise?” He lifted his head, and eyes full of silver moonlight met mine. “Anything, liessa.” “When it comes time,” I whispered, “can you take me to my lake? I want it to be done there.” Ash’s chest stilled against mine. His eyes slammed shut as the tendons of his throat stood out, and his features sharpened and thinned. “I promise.”

“What was his name? Ah, yes. Lamont. Poor King Lamont had no idea that Eythos had answered his ancestor, so he spoke openly and freely with His Majesty. Asked for—no, demanded—that another deal be made, one that freed his newly born daughter from any obligations promised during the original deal.”

“But, yes, I do believe it was referring to me. Now, the two daughters? That has always confounded me. Still does a little, but I do believe it’s Mycella. She was, after all, promised to the once King. My brother.” He tapped his chin. “The second daughter? You. You are promised to the future King—or who would’ve been the future King once Eythos entered Arcadia, and Nyktos Ascended to take his place.

“‘For the one born of the blood and the ash, the bearer of two crowns, and the bringer of life to mortal, god, and draken. A silver beast with blood seeping from its jaws of fire, bathed in the flames of the brightest moon to ever be birthed, will become one,’” he said, and my skin chilled. “That would be you again, in case you’re not keeping up with things.”

“Blood. The strength of life. Ash. The bravery of death. Life and Death, if taken literally.”

And the great powers will stumble and fall, some all at once, and they will fall through the fires into a void of nothing. Those left standing will tremble as they kneel, will weaken as they become small, as they become forgotten. For finally, the Primal rises, the giver of blood and the bringer of bone, the Primal of Blood and Ash.’”