A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire 1) - Page 226

The clawing, digging touch retreated suddenly. Taric jerked away, and I didn’t even feel the painful withdrawal of his fangs or when I hit the floor. I lay there on my side, eyes wide and muscles spasming, over and over as the fire faded from my skin and eased from my muscles.

“Is it her?” Cressa demanded, sounding first far away and then closer with each word.

My vision cleared as the burning sensation left my blood, and my muscles loosened. Dragging in air, I curled my fingers against the floor as the fiery pain still burned from my neck and chest.

“Oh, gods, it is,” Taric exhaled. “But this is far more…” He staggered to the side, looking down. “What in the hell?”

The floor was vibrating. I watched the darkness gather in the alcoves and peel away from the walls, racing across the floor toward the entryway. I tried to lift my head, but the muscles of my neck were like limp noodles. A blast of thunder shook the entire palace. No. That wasn’t thunder. That was a roar. A draken.

A gust of icy wind whirled through the chamber, the air charging with power.

Taric took a step back and turned to the front of the room as the air crackled and hissed. Pulling every ounce of energy I had in me, I sat up, leaning heavily against the pillar. Panting, I inhaled sharply, and the scent…the citrusy, fresh scent reached me. My breath hitched.

Nyktos.

The churning mass of shadows appeared in the archway of the chamber, and what I saw looked nothing like the Nyktos I knew.

His skin was the color of midnight streaked with the silver of eather, as hard as the stone the palace had been built from and just as smooth. The flesh swirled all over, making it difficult to see if his features were the same. The twin, sweeping arcs behind him were no longer wings of smoke and shadow but solid and similar to those of a draken, except his were a seething mass of silver and black. Power sparked from his eyes—eyes filled with so much eather, no irises or pupils were visible.

This was what I had seen glimpses of. What existed beneath the skin of a Primal. And he was terrifying and beautiful.

Nyktos rose into the air, wings stretched wide, arms at his sides, hands open, and eather dancing across his palms. “On your knees,” he commanded. “Now.”

Chapter 43

All three gods dropped to one knee before Nyktos, their heads bowed in submission. They didn’t hesitate.

“You dare to enter my Court?” Nyktos’ voice boomed through the chamber, shaking the entire palace. I saw Aios stir out of the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He drifted forward, his wings moving silently. “And touch what is mine?”

“We didn’t have a choice.” Cressa gasped as wind poured through the ceiling, whipping her hair around. She lifted her head. Her skin had turned the shade of bleached bone. “We—”

“We all have a choice,” Nyktos growled.

Cressa was jerked backward and then up into the air. I caught a glimpse of Aios sitting up and scrambling toward Bele as Cressa’s body stiffened. Her mouth stretched wide in a silent scream, and just like with the guards at Wayfair, Nyktos didn’t need to lay a finger on her. Deep, unforgiving cracks appeared in once smooth cheeks. She didn’t crumble slowly. She exploded, shattering into a fine, shimmering dust.

“And you chose wrong,” Nyktos said, his head snapping toward Madis. “Join your sister.”

The god turned, but a shadow came in through the open ceiling—a large, gray-and-black shadow. Nektas. The draken landed on his forelegs, his front talons slamming down on the edge of the dais. His wings swept over the thrones as he stretched his long neck forward. The thick frills around his head vibrated as he opened his mouth. Silver fire poured from it, swallowing Madis within seconds.

When the fire receded, there was nothing where Madis had stood. Not even ash.

Hands touched my arm, startling me. My head jerked around to see Saion crouched there. “Are you okay?” His concerned gaze fell to my throat. “Sera?”

“Yeah,” I said hoarsely, seeing now that Nyktos hadn’t arrived alone. Ector and Rhain were coming through the alcoves, swords in hand. “Bele.” I turned my head to where she and Aios lay on the other side. I felt a flare in my chest, one that turned my skin cold. Bele was on her back, the dagger lying on the floor. Aios was bent over her, clasping the other goddess’s face.

Nektas’s rumble of warning snapped my head around. Taric was on his feet, the trace of eather inside him erupting from within, whirling down the bare skin of his biceps and forearm, crackling and spitting silver sparks. The light swirled out from his palm, stretching and solidifying, taking the shape of a…sword.

Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout Flesh and Fire Fantasy
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