“Like what?” I asked, unable to stop myself.
“That Ash doesn’t hate him with every fiber of his being and wants to see him chained beneath the ground. Kolis doesn’t know that. He thinks that Ash is only testing his limits when he rebels against him or pushes back on something. Kolis believes that Ash is as loyal to him as any other Primal.”
Disbelief rolled through me. “How can Kolis not know the truth when he killed Nyktos’s parents? How can he even think for one second that Nyktos would be loyal after that?”
“Because Ash has convinced him that he feels nothing regarding his mother. That wasn’t difficult for Kolis to believe since Ash never knew her,” he explained. “And he’s convinced Kolis that he hated his father—that he considered Eythos weakand selfish. If Ash hadn’t been successful in hiding his true feelings toward him, Kolis would’ve done worse than what he did after he took the embers.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Kolis killed every god and godling that served under Eythos, ensuring that none could Ascend to replace the Primal of Life.”
“Good gods,” I whispered. “All of them?”
“Those who were not at Court were hunted down across Iliseeum and the mortal realm. Even godlings several generations removed from the Court, those who never went through the Culling, were slaughtered.”
I clamped my mouth shut against the rising bile. I didn’t know what to say, but I suddenly thought of the murdered mortals. The siblings and the babe. Could their deaths have been a result of that? Had Nyktos believed wrong? Or was it that he’d felt he couldn’t tell me at the time?
“If Kolis knew how Ash really felt about him, he would’ve killed every god here,” Nektas continued quietly. “Every mortal and godling. Chained every draken in the Abyss. Kolis would’ve leveled the Shadowlands.”
I sat on the edge of the bed.
“So, convincing him of this will be no different.”
“How…?” I clasped the bed column I sat near. “How can he be that convincing?”
Nektas’s crimson eyes met mine. “It’s the same thing that drives you to be so convincing. That it is his duty to do whatever is necessary to protect as many people as he can.”
I flinched. “I’m not pretending—”
“I’m not talking about Ash.”
He was talking about Kolis—about the duty I knew was mine. One that would allow me to do whatever was necessary. I pressed my lips together. “But it’s different. Kolis hasn’t made any personal attacks against me. There isn’t history between us like there is with him and Nyktos.”
“There isn’t?” Nektas asked quietly.
I stilled. “I’m nother.”
“No, but she is a part of you, Sera.”
Tipping my head back, I stared at the glossy surface of the ceiling. “Yeah, well, if I do look like her, and he summons usbefore Nyktos gets the embers out of me, we’re screwed. Everyone is screwed.”
“Then we must make sure those embers are not vulnerable for long.”
I lowered my gaze to him.
Nektas watched me. “Why don’t you call him Ash anymore?”
The question caught me off guard. “I don’t know.”
“That’s a lie.”
“How would you know?” I demanded, crossing my arms.
Nektas came forward, his steps surprisingly quiet for someone so large. “Ash is what his father called him.”
I hadn’t known that, and I didn’t think I wanted to know that now.
“For him to introduce himself as such to you meant something,” Nektas added.