A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire 1)

“I mean I’ve never lain in bed with someone. Slept or rested beside them,” I explained. “Ever.”

“Neither have I.” His eyes were a soft gray, the pulse of eather muted behind his pupils.

“Slept beside someone?”

“That. Or anything really. Not with Veses. Not with anyone. I’ve never lain with anyone before.”

Even though I suspected he didn’t have much experience based on what he’d said at the lake, shock still rippled through me. I would’ve thought he had some experience. “Why?” I asked and then immediately cringed. “I’m sorry. That’s probably not any of my business—”

“I think it is,” he said, and there was that damn, strange whirl again. He picked up the tail of my braid from where it had fallen on my arm. “I don’t know. I just never really…let anything get to that point. It seemed too much of a risk to become close to anyone.”

A sharp slice of sorrow cut through my chest, unwanted but there. It could be because of the other Primals, but I thought it had a lot more to do with what’d happened to his parents.

I thought of the gods on the wall.

I thought of how Nektas was the only one I’d heard call him Ash. I had no idea if that symbolized anything or not, but he’d said it was a risk to become close to anyone.

“You have friends,” I said. “Ector? Rhain? Saion—”

He looked over at me as he drew his thumb over my braid. “They are loyal guards. I trust them.”

I was willing to bet that even though he’d referred to Lathan as a friend, it was probably nothing more than a word to him—no actual meaning behind it. The back of my throat burned as I stared at the scar on his chin. His life seemed as lonely as mine.

And maybe that was why I asked what I did. A question I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to, even if I needed it. “Why are you taking that risk now?”

Thick lashes lifted, and steel-gray eyes pierced mine. “Because I can’t seem to stop myself, even though I know better. Even though I know I’ll probably end up hating myself for it. Even though you will probably end up hating me.”

Chapter 31

“You can do it,” Aios cheered, hands clasped together under her chin. “Just jump.”

The purplish-black draken teetered on the edge of the boulder, his leathery wings arced high. I held my breath as Reaver jumped into the air, lifting his wings. Below the boulder, Jadis wiggled her green-and-brown body in an excited circle. Reaver dipped precariously, and both Aios and I stepped forward until he swooped above our heads with a trill of victory.

“Thank gods,” I muttered, exhaling heavily as he rose and glided. I watched Reaver sweep through the air, half afraid that he would fall for no reason. “I don’t think I’ve been more stressed in my entire life.”

Aios laughed softly as she brushed a coppery strand of hair over a shoulder. “Same.” She glanced over at me. “How are you feeling today?”

“I feel fine.” Jadis chirped, rushing across the ground of the courtyard, kicking up gray dust as she followed Reaver. I glanced down at my arm. “The scratches are barely even noticeable.”

“You’re lucky to have received the antidote when you did,” Aios noted, watching the draken. “A few more minutes, and it could’ve been too late.”

I nodded absently, my thoughts immediately finding their way to my bedchamber and to Ash. The emotions that pinged through me ran the gamut. Everything from that strange whirring sensation to a deep-rooted feeling of unease. I’d fallen asleep beside him the night before. I didn’t know exactly when it had happened. Silence had fallen between us as he continued toying with my braid. I wasn’t sure how long he remained at my side. He’d been gone when I woke, but his scent lingered on the pillows and sheets. I thought perhaps he’d spent the entire night with me.

And that was a good sign—a great one.

I nibbled on my lower lip as I turned back to Aios and the draken. The goddess had shown that morning with breakfast—one that she ate with me in my chambers. Afterward, she’d asked if I wanted to join her on a walk. Somehow, we’d ended up out here with the draken, and I wondered if Ash had something to do with that. If he had told Aios that I didn’t need space. I didn’t ask because that seemed like a rather awkward conversation. Besides, I still couldn’t believe I’d admitted to feeling as if I’d done something to deserve being alone.

Fucking whiskey.

Jadis took off across the courtyard, apparently attempting to gain enough speed to take flight, something she had already tried several times. Aios went after her as Reaver landed a bit roughly by the boulder. He watched me from several feet away, his eyes narrowed. There was a thoughtful look about him, an almost wary one. I extended a hand toward him as Jadis peeked at him from behind one of my legs. Reaver tilted his head to the side as he tucked his wings back.