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)
“I don’t understand,” Attes said.
“Those who are reborn may have memories of their previous lives, but they often show as dreams or instances of déjà vu,” he explained. “But they almost always fade as who that person has become in their new life begins to take shape.” He paused. “They may be the same soul and look identical to who they were before, but they are not entirely the same person.”
“Well,” Attes sighed. “I guess that is a relief.”
“Doesn’t make it any better,” I said.
“No,” Aydun agreed. “I suppose it doesn’t.”
“Nothing is written in stone.” Ash curved his arm around my shoulders. “Prophecy or not. This may never come to pass.”
Aydun’s head tilted again. “You’re right. Nothing is predestined. There is hope. You may still be able to prevent the rise of the Primal of Blood and Bone—a being who will not only awaken Death and those in the ground but also carry within her absolute power.” His eyes met mine. “And you know what they say about absolute power.”
I did.
I’d said it myself.
“But she will have nowhere near the strength she will grow into when Death comes for her. She, like you, would be a…” He smiled. “A baby Primal.”
I glared at him.
“So, she will likely fall to Death whilst in the process of waking the Ancients,” he said. “And even if she somehow manages to defeat Death, she would be corrupted just as those in the ground were—and at a much faster rate.” Aydun straightened to his full, towering height. “And if that happens, it will take every single god and even those in the ground to bring her down. For she will destroy all of us.”
Aydun was wrong, though.
He was wrong.
The corners of my lips curved up.
He frowned, and Ash sent me a questioning look.
“I’m not sure why you’re smiling,” Attes muttered.
“Is that all?” I asked.
For a moment, the Ancient looked uncertain, and then he, too, smiled faintly. “It is.”
“Why is it now just hitting me that you are with child?” Attes murmured from where he sat across from Ash and me. We’d come upstairs and ended up in what appeared to be Attes’s office.
There were no empty shelves on his walls. Just a shit ton of weapons.
I kind of liked it.
“With two,” Attes corrected, blinking rapidly. “Congratulations—” He sat up straight, his head swinging toward Ash. “You let her fight while pregnant?”
“While I wasn’t entirely thrilled with her doing so,” Ash replied, taking a drink of the whiskey Attes had poured for him, “I do not control what she does.”
I raised my brows at Attes.
“Fates,” the Primal muttered, rubbing his hand over his face. “Neither of you is thinking about listening to that fuck of a Fate and…” He swallowed the whiskey, lips peeling back. “Ending their lives before they begin, are you?”
“No,” Ash said.
“Good. You two deserve the joy of parenthood and its horrors.” A brief dimple appeared in a flash of a grin, and I thought about his children. Would he ever have more? “Besides, there are other ways to prevent…fuck, to prevent Sotoria from being reborn.”
“I’m sorry.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Maybe we should’ve risked releasing her sooner.”
“You know what would’ve happened if we had.” He lowered his glass.
“At least she is safe for now.” Ash rubbed my back. “She’s not really conscious while in The Star, right?”
I steepled my fingers under my chin. “Not always.”
“Then, to her, it will be as if she is sleeping,” he said.
“Yeah.” I closed my eyes, absolutely hating that Sotoria was trapped in The Star, aware or not. It wasn’t fair. “We should still try to find it.”
“The Fates could’ve hidden it anywhere,” Attes said.
“Or given it to someone.” I thought about what I’d seen around Callum’s remains. “We need to find Callum.”
Ash’s eyes narrowed. “You think the Fates gave it to him? The last I saw of him, he was in pieces.”
“He’s her brother.” And my…well, whatever. I told them what I’d seen before the Temple collapsed.
Ash cursed. “Fucking Fates.”
“Ditto,” I murmured, looking across at Attes. “You were right about there being other ways to prevent her from being reborn. We’re having sons.”
Attes nodded.
Beside me, Ash sighed heavily and tilted his head back, the glass of whiskey resting on his knee. “I know what you are thinking.”
I pressed my lips together. Ash had envisioned our sons scrambling over benches in the throne room, playing with Reaver and Jadis, and then our grandchildren doing the same.
There would be no grandchildren.
I closed my eyes. We would have to ensure our sons never had children. Maybe they would be lucky and would never want them, nor whomever they ended up falling in love with. Not everyone did, and it would be for the best if they felt that way. But if they did want children? I shook my head. It wasn’t right or fair. Neither was what had been done to Sotoria.