Home > Popular Books > A Fire in the Flesh (Flesh and Fire, #3)(110)

A Fire in the Flesh (Flesh and Fire, #3)(110)

Author:Jennifer L. Armentrout

Ash’s chest rose sharply. “Sera—”

“I just want to know. Like will I be judged at the Pillars, or will my soul need the extra-special Primal of Death judgment?” I lightened my tone, even as my chest felt tighter. “Better yet, will I have to wait in line?”

He didn’t answer.

I opened my eyes to the wisps of steam whirling above the water. “I know this isn’t the greatest topic of conversation.”

“It isn’t even something you should be thinking about.”

“I try not to, but it’s hard.” My fingers curled slightly. “Especially now. I just want to know what to expect.” I sat up, facing him. “And I don’t want to hear that I don’t have to expect it.”

Ash opened his mouth.

“We both know that’s not true,” I said before he could deny it. “And knowing just a little bit will…I don’t know. Maybe it will help me.”

A glow of eather appeared behind his pupils. “Will it help? Truly?”

I…I wasn’t sure. “Perhaps knowing will make things worse. Maybe it won’t. But it can’t be worse than this.”

He turned his head, and a line of sunlight glanced off his cheekbone. “I don’t know.”

“Ash.”

“I’m serious, Sera. I cannot answer whether you will pass through the Pillars or if you’ll need to be judged in person to determine your fate.”

I started to frown. “But—”

“I know what I said before, but I cannot see what that journey will be. Just as I couldn’t see Lathan’s journey,” he shared, the glow pulsing behind his pupils. “It was hidden from me. As is yours.”

“Why?”

“The moment I considered Lathan a friend, my role in his eternal journey ended. It’s why—”

“The Primal of Death was not allowed to form bonds with another,” I murmured.

A streak of eather lashed out from behind his pupils. “Kolis told you that?”

I nodded. “If a…a bond is formed with another, the Fates balance it out by preventing the Primal of Death from knowing the journey of a soul or taking part in it.”

“Yes.”

“The Fates…” Thinking of Holland, I shook my head. “They’re bastards, aren’t they?”

His chuckle was low. “I have thought that many times.”

When Kolis spoke about it, I hadn’t thought it was fair, and that hadn’t changed. “And none of the other Primals are subject to those rules? Say if Maia were to become close with a mortal, would she no longer be able to interfere in matters of love or fertility?”

Ash frowned. “The others are subject to the same rules. Once they form bonds with mortals or gods, they cannot influence their lives in positive or negative ways.”

Irritation rose. “Kolis made it sound like only he was subject to that.”

“Of course, he did,” Ash said with a sneer. “He believes he is the only one who has been punished or suffered.” Another swirl of eather appeared in his eyes. “But my father—the true Primal of Life? As far as I know, he wasn’t held to those standards.”

My thoughts flashed to the anger I’d seen in Kolis’s features when he spoke about all the ways Eythos could influence the lives of those he came to care for.

“Nektas once told me it was simply because the Primal of Life was held to a higher standard, tasked with the duty to know when and when not to impact the lives of others. Or to learn when. To me, it sounded more like being constantly taunted with the ability to improve one’s fate and having to choose not to.”

“Gods,” I muttered. “Who would want that kind of choice?”

“Kolis,” he suggested. “And he only wanted it because he never had to make it.”

I nodded slowly. Kolis had left out that he wasn’t the only one who had to operate by those rules, but I wasn’t surprised to learn that. Kolis didn’t care about the other Primals. He only cared about what his brother could and couldn’t do.

Settling back against Ash’s chest, I returned to what had started this conversation. “Then who judged Lathan?”

“If the Pillars could not judge him, then the Arae would have.”

Which meant they would likely judge me because I doubted the Pillars would know what to do with me. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing or if Holland would have any say in it.

“How does the water feel?”

“Amazing.” All the soreness had faded away. It had to be the heat of the water and maybe even a little of the magic of this hidden-away cavern.

Ash tucked the back of my head against his shoulder. “Better than your lake?”

“Yeah, it is.” I sighed, squeezing the arm that banded my waist. As I’d noticed before, his skin was even cool under the water, which probably stopped me from overheating. “But in a different way.”

His thumb moved along the flare of my hip under the water’s surface, sweeping back and forth. “How so?”

My gaze flickered over the softly churning hot springs. The fractured beams of sunlight glinted off the surface as wisps of steam rose, tangling with the hanging lilacs. “My lake is…it’s refreshing, but this is relaxing. Like I could fall asleep.”

“Yeah. I think I could do that myself.” There was a heaviness to his voice as he dipped, kissing my temple. “I wish we could.”

I wished for so many things.

A knot threatened to lodge itself in my throat. I drew in a deep breath, hoping to alleviate it.

“We will come back here.” Ash’s lips brushed the curve of my cheek. “I promise.”

My eyes shut as that damn knot expanded. It was sweet of him to promise, but we would never come back here. I hoped he did, though, as I opened my eyes. I looked over the glistening outcropping of rocks and the lilac-covered walls as I thought about what I wanted for him when this was all over. A life. A future. Love. I hoped he made more good memories here.

Ash’s thumb stilled against my hip. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” That wasn’t necessarily a lie. My stomach remained settled, and I didn’t feel like I would fall over, but I was tired. Though I didn’t think the warm water had much to do with that.

Ash was quiet for a moment. “Did I ever tell you what anguish tastes like?”

My eyes narrowed.

“It’s tangy, almost bitter,” he continued, straightening a delicate link on Aios’s necklace.

“Stop reading my emotions.”

“It’s one of the hardest emotions to block out. Sometimes, it’s even louder than joy, but it’s almost impossible to shield from yours.”

My nose scrunched. “Almost impossible?”

His chuckle rumbled against my back. “Almost,” he repeated. “I’m simply more…in tune with you than anyone else.”

I thought about that. Just a drop of my blood had allowed him to sense if I was in danger, even if he was in Iliseeum and I was in the mortal realm. He’d taken far more than a drop since then, so it made sense that his ability to read emotions, something he’d gotten from his mother, would also be enhanced when it came to me.