A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire 1)

My gaze flicked to the leaves of the tree. “Is the punishment what causes their blood to turn the leaves?”

“In this case, yes.”

I lifted my brows.

“Wherever a god or Primal is entombed, or where their blood spills, you will see a blood tree. It serves as either a memorial or a warning,” he explained. “Either way, it is not land one should ever disturb.”

“Good to know,” I murmured. “But I didn’t disturb the land.”

“But you did,” he stated, his eyes flaring bright once more. “You bled.”

At first, I didn’t understand, having forgotten the scratches. I glanced down at my arm. “Barely.”

“That doesn’t matter. A single drop would’ve roused those who are not so deeply entombed. They are drawn to anything alive, and you, liessa, are very much alive. If I hadn’t come when I did, they would’ve devoured you whole.”

Devoured me…whole? I shuddered, thinking it was probably a good idea I hadn’t mentioned the Hunters. “I was fighting them off—”

“Barely,” he cut me off. “They would’ve overpowered you. And all of this—” He sliced his hand through the air. “All that has been done to keep you safe would have been for nothing.”

I sucked in a heady breath. “Need I remind you that I never asked for you to do anything to keep me safe?”

“There is no need to remind me of such, but dealing with you does remind me of that saying.”

“I can’t wait to hear this,” I muttered, sheathing my dagger.

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” he said. “Perhaps you’ve heard that?”

“Sounds like something you’d have embroidered on a pillow.”

The look he shot me said he was unimpressed.

“What are you even doing out here?” I demanded. “I thought you were busy with an unexpected arrival.”

“I am very busy with that guest. And yet, here I am, saving you,” he replied. “Again.”

I wasn’t sure which part of that statement irked me the most. The part where he referred to Veses as a guest, or the fact that he had saved me. Again. “I really, really want to stab you again.”

One side of his lips curled up. “Part of me would really like to see you try. However, I am busy keeping said guest distracted—”

“Distracted?” I laughed as my heart twisted and dropped at the same time. “How are you keeping your guest distracted in your office? With stimulating conversation and your ample charm?”

His smile turned as cold as his fury. “As I’m sure you remember, my charm is very ample.”

My cheeks heated. “I’ve been trying to forget your overinflated charm.”

“Was it not you who just referred to it as ample?” His eyes flashed a deep quicksilver.

The heat of anger and something far more potent scalded the back of my neck. “I was being facetious.”

“Sure, you were.”

“I was—”

“I don’t have time for this.” He looked over his shoulder, yelling, “Saion!”

The god appeared between the red-leafed trees, lips pursed and eyes wide. “Yes?” He drew out the word.

Oh my gods, had he been lurking there the whole time? And when did he return?

“Can you make sure she returns to the palace yards as quickly as possible without getting herself into any more trouble between here and there? And when you are done, please find Rhahar. We will need to check the tombs,” Ash said, shooting me a long look of warning. “I would be greatly appreciative.”

“Sounds like a simple enough task,” the god replied.

Ash snorted. “It sounds that way, but I can assure you that it will not be.”

Offended, I stepped forward. “If the woods are so dangerous, why is there no gate or wall to seal them off?”

The Primal looked over his shoulder. “Because most are intelligent enough not to enter the Red Woods once warned.” His eyes narrowed. “The keyword being most.”

“That was rude,” I muttered.

“And what you did was foolish. So, here we are.” Ash turned away and started walking before I could respond. He passed Saion, saying, “Good luck.”

My mouth dropped open.

Saion’s brows rose as he looked back at me. Neither of us moved until Ash had disappeared amid the trees. “Well…this is somewhat awkward.”

I folded my arms over my chest.

“I really hope you don’t make this difficult,” he added. “I’ve had a rather long day as it is.”

I felt a small, incredibly childish urge to run off and make his day much, much longer than it already was. But I had no desire to be on the grounds where gods were entombed. So, I stomped forward like the adult I was.

The god arched a brow, grinning. “Thank you.”

I said nothing as I passed him. He easily fell into step beside me. He was silent for only a few blessed seconds. “How did you end up bleeding?”

“Not sure,” I lied. “Must’ve cut it on the bark. Did you find the missing woman?” I asked, changing the subject.