Total pages in book: 362
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
Less like a monster.
Less like…less like Kolis.
But as the day wore on, I…I accepted what I had always known. What even Nektas had known when he said the monstrous side of me could one day save me.
The truth was, I was like Kolis.
Maybe it was the embers I’d been born with. How I’d been raised. Maybe it was the training and the grooming. Maybe it was all the choices I’d made in my life that allowed me to act with cold violence on one hand and heal with the next. Or maybe it was because I’d been touched by life and death at birth. Perhaps that ensured I wouldn’t end up like Eythos. Too forgiving. Too hopeful. Too loyal. Because those things were just as bad as being too harsh and too unforgiving. Both blinded you in different ways.
The why didn’t matter.
Because, all along, I’d fought my instincts instead of learning when to listen to them and when to heed the counsel of others. I hadn’t truly had faith in myself.
And Ezra had paid that price. So did Marisol. My mother. Those Kyn and Embris had killed on Kolis’s orders.
And those I slaughtered when I tipped over that line between justice and vengeance—when I let myself be consumed by rage and sorrow that had built inside me for days, weeks, months, and years.
What happened wasn’t just the end result of Kolis’s actions. Or me trying to be better. What had Holland said? Maybe if you hadn’t held in all your pain, you wouldn’t have given in to it now. He’d never trained me to be a cold killer. He’d trained me to always be compassionate, even in death. I owed a part of what I’d done to all that anger—the fury, panic, and desperation I’d bottled up inside me.
This…this was as much Kolis’s fault as it was mine.
How would I live with that? I didn’t know.
At some point, I heard a quiet knock on the door. It was Rhain. He told us things were still quiet, before sharing that the Primal goddess Maia had entered the mortal realm to check on the state of things. That surprised me. It also bothered me. I should be there. The…how did Rhain put it? The event had subsided. He’d asked if I would eat. If he should try to bring the Healer in now. My body hurt, but I’d stopped bleeding, and there was no reason to send for the Healer, especially since I was still in my nota state. Aios came by. She sat with Nektas, petting my side. Like him, she didn’t talk. She didn’t leave until night fell and Rhain returned. I smelled food.
“Any word from the Pillars?” Nektas asked, keeping his voice low, even though I doubted he believed I was asleep.
“No,” Rhain answered. “I’ve never known it to take this long, but he shouldn’t be much longer.”
Nektas didn’t respond. We both knew why it had never taken this long. A Primal had never been killed in the mortal realm before. The death toll was…high.
It was Attes who delivered both relief and heartbreak.
He knelt beside Nektas and me, gently touching my jaw. “I went to Wayfair,” he said, fingers sinking into my fur. “I didn’t know which ones were your family, but I made sure all who were on the grounds were given burial rites.”
I nosed his hand, unable to even huff my gratitude. The pain and relief were too great. I slipped further into my nota, returning to the last time I’d seen them. How they’d looked. Ezra’s questions. Marisol’s smiles. My last conversation with my mother. The fragile hope that we could maybe repair our relationship. I stayed there with the future that should’ve been.
Nektas tried to get me to eat several times. I wasn’t hungry. He let it go, and silence reigned until the doors opened again. This time, it was small footsteps that neared us but then stopped.
“It’s okay,” Nektas said. “You can come closer. It will do some good.”
There was one set of footsteps, then another, much lighter pair.
“Sera?” Reaver called in a small voice. I lifted a paw. He took it and sat beside me. “Is…is she okay?”
Tiny hands landed near Nektas’s palm, fisting my fur. The smell of peaches and sugar reached me. “Sad,” Jadis whispered.
“Yes, she is sad,” Nektas answered.
I felt Jadis move closer and then her lips against the bridge of my nose. “There. Better.”
“I don’t think that works,” Reaver said solemnly.
“Uh-huh,” Jadis cried.
“She’ll be better,” Nektas assured them, somehow quieting them both with three words. “She will.”
Reaver lay beside me, still holding my paw. Jadis managed to get herself between him and me, curling into a little ball against my stomach. Their warmth calmed the unending rush of thoughts, allowing me to slip into quiet numbness.
Nektas stayed where he was. I didn’t know how he did it. He didn’t leave once. Not even to take care of personal needs. He stayed, simply stroking my head. No one else entered the chamber. No one tried to talk to me. I didn’t know how much time passed before my body and mind simply gave out. I fell asleep. I didn’t dream. There was just…nothing.