Nyktos stared at me for a moment. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, and I thought it did. “I’ll be okay. You, however, may not be.”
I sighed, knowing it wasn’t wise to argue over this. I didn’t want to slip into another several-days-long sleep that I might not wake up from. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s get this over with.”
Nyktos raised a brow but wisely didn’t respond to that. He shifted closer, sitting on the floor beside me. I couldn’t stop myself from watching him as he lifted his wrist to his mouth. I caught only a brief glimpse of his fangs before they sank deepinto his flesh. I winced, just like I had before. He lifted his mouth, revealing the seeping puncture wounds. Shimmery, bluish-red blood pooled in two perfect circles, and his scent, that citrus and fresh air, was more potent.
Neither of us spoke as he brought his wrist to my mouth, but I didn’t hesitate like I had before. It almost felt natural as I lowered my head. And maybe that was the embers. But perhaps it was me.
Closing my mouth over the wound, I drew on his bite as my eyes drifted shut. The first taste of him was a shock to my senses. A jolt to my entire body that would likely never dull, no matter how many times I tasted him.
A tingling sensation swept over my tongue and the insides of my mouth, then moved to my throat as I swallowed. It struck me as odd that his blood could be so warm, yet his skin so cold, but the memories of how he’d tasted hadn’t done him any justice. Sweet and smoky honey. Luscious. Captivating. I swallowed, more and more, marveling at the heady warmth coursing into my chest and stomach, easing the aches along the way.
“Just a bit more,” Nyktos said, his voice lower, thicker.
I drank deeper, only vaguely aware that I was holding his arm and that my fingers were curling tightly around his. I thought that I probably shouldn’t do that now, but that thought was just a flicker. An inconvenience. The hum of his blood coasted over that hollow part of me, snuffing out the pain in my ribs and my stomach, taking with it a deeper, more entrenched hurt that went beyond the physical.
Then I found it.
Felt it.
Peace.
It was like slipping beneath still waters, surrounded by silence andpeace. But in that cool darkness werecolors. They came alive with a spark of silver and black, and like the images that had formed in the Pools of Divanash, one rose in my mind. It was me. I was standing in the courtyard of the House of Haides in a black gown with the gray, star-swept sky behind me. Cheeks flushed and eyes a feverish wild green, I held a short sword, the shadowstone blade glittering as a pale, silver curl danced across my cheek, touching the corner of my lip as I grinned up at—
This was a memory of me, but not my memory.
“I think that’s enough,” Nyktos grunted, shattering the memory as he gently pried his wrist from my grip.
My eyes fluttered open as my hands fell to my lap. Beside me, Nyktos sat, one leg bent as he lifted his wrist to his mouth, sealing the wound he’d created. There were no shadows beneath his flesh now, but his skin was even thinner, the hollows of his cheeks more prominent, and his flesh paler.
“How are you feeling?” Nyktos asked.
I took stock of myself, somewhat dazed. “Better,” I exhaled, long and slow without even a hint of pain. Considering what I could do with my hands, the healing ability of a Primal’s blood shouldn’t shock me, but it did. “Thank you.”
Nyktos nodded, and his lashes swept down, hiding his eyes as he started to rise. “I’ll await you in my chambers—”
“Wait,” I stopped him. His jaw flexed. “I saw myself standing in the courtyard when I held the sword to your throat,” I told him, my skin beginning to thrum as the warmth of his blood continued working its way through my muscles. “Why would I think of that?”
“You weren’t thinking of that day,” he said gruffly. “I was.”
“But how…?”
“That can happen when a god or a Primal feeds from another. They can sense—or see—what the other is thinking. Or find a memory. Some are skilled at dragging older memories out while they feed.”
“Like Taric,” I murmured. “But it didn’t hurt you, right?”
Nyktos shook his head. “You weren’t able to do it the last time you fed, but you’re even closer to Ascension now.”
“That’s not good.”
“No.” Nyktos’s lashes lifted then. “We need to get the embers out of you.”
Dread began to build but then quickly evaporated. There was no warning before the pleasant warmth in my blood and muscles turned to molten heat. Even though I knew what his blood would do, the sharp and swift arousal was still brutal, stealing the breath I took. My fingers curled into the soft cloth of my robe as an ache blossomed, throbbed.
Oh, gods, I was hot. Too hot. My fingers went to the row of buttons on the robe, hastily undoing them. The material fell tothe sides, and blissful cool air slipped over the gauzy nightgown and my heated flesh.
The reprieve lasted only a few seconds—if that.
My heart began to pound. I shuddered, gritting my teeth, but there was no stopping the intense wave of tingling sensation sweeping over me, or the gasp I let out at the slippery heat suddenly invading every part of my being and senses. A heaviness followed, settling in my breasts and then my core. My nipples grew tight, hardening.