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

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

His blood ran over my tongue and down my throat, thick and warm, and I didn’t know how death could taste like honey—both sweet and smoky. Lush. Seductive. I swallowed.

I was just a vessel full of deep scars left behind from the first life I’d taken and all the times after that, leaving the wrong kind of mark behind. I was nothing more than bruises on a blank canvas because I didn’t feel it. I didn’t mourn those losses. I didn’t care because no one else cared beyond what I could do for them.

“The next time you put a dagger to anyone’s throat,” he said, his breath coasting over my cheek as he guided Odin toward the palace, “you’d better mean it.” I stiffened. “Even if it’s yours?” Nyktos’s arm folded over my waist, tugging me against his chest. “Especially if it’s mine.”

Dampness rushed to my eyes, and I quickly looked away. I had to. Ragged, raw emotion swelled. What he said meant the realm to me, because every word he’d spoken had been about me and my actions. Not what he believed about me. Not what I or the embers could do for him, but what I had chosen to do. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I was more than a destiny I’d never agreed to. More than the embers I carried within me. I felt like…more.

We all need someone to watch over us.” Heat crawled up my throat. “Do you?” “Desperately,” he whispered.

“I can smell your blood.” His palm grazed the side of my breast. I jerked. He skimmed his hand down my side to where there was a burning ache. “It makes me want to taste you.”

“Sera.” I thought I heard Nyktos whisper my name as I began to doze off. “You were never a ghost to me.”

That is what Ash fears most.” His gaze found mine again. “Loving someone. Losing them. Then becoming something even worse than Kolis.”

“I don’t know why death smells like that, but lilacs are special. They represent renewal, and both life and death are that—a renewal.” Nektas roamed forward. “If you ever see lilacs like this near water in the mortal realm, you can be assured that you’re near a gateway to Iliseeum—to Dalos, in particular.”

“And free will,” he said. “Fate doesn’t usurp that, no matter how much the Arae probably wish they did in some situations. Fate just sees all the possible outcomes of free will.”

“I told you because I knew no other way to tell you what I know to be true—just in case you decide to follow this destiny you believe to be yours. It doesn’t matter what soul you carry inside you.” Aios lifted our joined hands. “What does is whether or not Kolis is capable of loving again, even his graeca. And he’s not. There’s nothing but rot and decay where his kardia should be. Kolis has no weakness.”

Bele spun on her knee, rising as silvery-white light spiraled down her arms and erupted between her palms. Eather arced, rapidly forming the shape of a bow and arrow. Smirking, she pulled the string of eather taut. “Bitch, I hope you try.”

“Rise,” Ash’s voice was deeper, louder. A powerful thunder. “Rise for the One who is born of Blood and Ash, the Light and the Fire, and the Brightest Moon,” he said, and my eyes cut to him as my breath caught.

“Love,” I murmured, swallowed. “Maybe it is a weakness.” “I believe it to be the one thing more unpredictable than even a Primal ember. Therefore, stronger,” Delfai countered, drawing my gaze to him. “Love makes anything possible. Makes anyone capable of the unexpected.”

“Even if you had your kardia, Ash, there was no guarantee you’d love me—” “Yes, there is.” His eyes were wide and wild as he caught my wrists. “I would’ve loved you if I could have. There would’ve been no stopping me.”

“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.”