Total pages in book: 239
Estimated words: 224443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 898(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 898(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Surprise flickered across Nyktos’ face. “Yes.”
“It’s the same, thank the gods.” I took a larger drink and then forced myself to down the remaining contents.
“That was…impressive,” Nektas murmured.
“It also hurt a little,” I rasped, eyes and throat stinging. “But it works, so it’s worth it.”
Nyktos took the empty tankard from me. “Are you positive that it’s the same tea?”
“Yes.” I snuggled back down onto my side. “It’s the same. Sir Holland had given me an extra pouch of the herbs in case the headache returned.”
“Did he say why he thought the tea would help?” Nektas asked.
“Not that I remember.” I shoved my hands under a pillow. “My mother has migraines, so maybe he thought I was experiencing the same and figured it would help.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” Nyktos frowned as he placed the tankard on the nightstand. “There is no way a mortal would have knowledge of this type of tea.”
I raised a brow, already feeling the pounding lessening. “Is the tea special or something?”
“It would not be known in the mortal realm.” Nektas glanced at the Primal and then his gaze landed on me. “You’re sure this Sir Holland is mortal?”
“Yes.” I laughed. “He’s mortal.” I glanced between the two of them. “Maybe the tea is more well-known than you all realize.”
“Maybe you’re wrong about this Sir Holland being mortal,” Nektas returned.
“When exactly did the headaches start?” Nyktos cut in. “You said a couple of years ago?”
My gaze shifted back to him. “I don’t know. Maybe a year and a half ago? Close to two?”
“That’s not a couple of years ago,” Nyktos pointed out.
“Sorry. My head felt like it was being ripped in two when I was being interrogated about it earlier.”
Nyktos’ lips twisted as if he were fighting a smile. “And they weren’t always intense like the one today?”
“Right. Normally, I can ignore them, and they eventually go away. This is only the second time I got one this severe.”
Nyktos studied me closely, his gaze tracking over my face as if he were searching for answers. “And the bleeding when you brush your teeth?”
“Infrequent,” I told him. “Do you think it’s something to do with a tooth? My stepfather once—”
“It’s not a tooth infection,” Nektas cut in.
“Can you also smell infections?” I retorted.
“Actually, yes, I can,” he said.
“Oh.” I sank a little deeper into the pillows. “That sounds kind of gross.”
“It can be,” the draken confirmed.
“Whether or not an infection smells poorly isn’t important,” Nyktos said, and I narrowed my eyes. “What you’re experiencing also isn’t a migraine.”
“I didn’t realize the Primal of Death was also a Healer,” I muttered.
He shot me a bland look. “You’re already feeling better, aren’t you? Truly, this time.”
“I am.”
“That’s it then.” He glanced at Nektas, and the draken nodded. “I think what you’re experiencing is a symptom of the Culling.”
“What?” I jerked upright, wincing as the throbbing intensified for a moment and then faded. “That’s impossible. Both my parents are mortal. I’m not a godling—”
“I’m not suggesting that you are,” Nyktos cut in, a grin appearing and then disappearing. “I think the ember of life that was placed in you is giving you similar side effects as the Culling. You’re the right age for it.”
“A bit of a late bloomer,” Nektas added.
I frowned at the draken. “I don’t understand.”
“Godlings go through the Culling because they have eather in their blood. The ember that my father placed in you is eather. That’s what fuels your gift, and it would be powerful enough to evoke symptoms—ones that can be debilitating without the right combination of herbs that was discovered ages ago by a god who had a knack for mixing potions. Took hundreds of years, or at least that’s what my father told me. A potion born of necessity since no other known medicine worked to ease the headaches and other symptoms that came with the Culling,” Nyktos explained. “It’s given to every god when they begin to go through the Culling, and to every godling we’re aware of.” The corners of his lips pulled down. “Which is why I would love to know how a mortal knew of this potion.”
So would I. But there were way more important things I wanted to know. “Does this mean I’m going to go through the Ascension?”
“It shouldn’t,” Nyktos advised. “It is only an ember of life—an ember of eather. More powerful than what would be found in a godling, but you’re not a descendant of the gods. It is not a part of you. You’ll probably have a couple more weeks or months at most of these symptoms, and then they will go away. You’ll be fine.”
I was relieved, especially after what I had learned from Aios about the Culling. Toying with the edges of my hair, I looked over at Nyktos. As the aching continued to fade with each passing moment, it was replaced by many questions and words I wanted to speak.