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I could only imagine what Gemma had faced as a Chosen that had caused her to take that kind of risk. Anger and disgust sat heavy on my chest along with a hefty helping of denial. I shook my head. “A part of me doesn’t want to believe any of this,” I admitted. “I do, but it’s just…”
Ash watched me closely as if he were trying to figure something out. “I don’t know why any of this comes as a surprise to you.”
I looked up at him. “How could it not?”
“Do you think mortals are the only ones capable of brutality? Of hurting others for no reason other than the fact they can? Manipulating and abusing others? The Primals and gods are capable of the same. Capable of much worse out of anger, boredom, or for entertainment and self-serving pleasure. Whatever your imagination can conjure will not even begin to encompass what we are capable of.”
What we are capable of? I looked away, pressing my lips together. He’d included himself in that statement, but he was trying to save the Chosen. He wasn’t capable of that. And I was here to kill him. What would happen to the Chosen then? Even if he were only able to save a small percentage of them.
Gods.
My chest seized. I couldn’t think about them. I couldn’t think about what could happen when I knew what would happen to the people of Lasania if I didn’t see this through. I swallowed hard. “You said this happens to most of them. Other than the ones you’ve hidden away, have some survived?”
“From what I could learn from those who help move the Chosen and find them some semblance of safety, some of the Chosen have disappeared.”
“What does that mean? They can’t simply just disappear.”
“But they do.” He met my stare. “There are no signs that they’ve been killed, but many are never seen or heard from again. They are simply gone.”
Chapter 32
From the moment I climbed into bed, I tossed and turned, falling asleep for only a few minutes before waking, finding myself staring at the doors to Ash’s chambers.
What I’d learned today haunted me, no matter how much I tried to stop it. The truth of what happened to the Chosen. The knowledge that so many gods were capable of such cruelty. The likely possibility that Kolis, the greatest Primal of them all, was aware of it. All of it circled and circled, despite the fact that none of it could matter. “Only Lasania,” I whispered to the quiet chamber.
I rolled onto my back, staring up at the shadowstone ceiling. But what if I succeeded? What if I stopped the Rot? What in the fuck was I saving Lasania from at the end of the day if the Primal of Life and the gods who served him took no issue with brutalizing the Chosen? The answer seemed simple. There were millions in Lasania, and only thousands of Chosen to be potentially taken. Did one sacrifice the few to save the many? I didn’t know, but it wasn’t like I didn’t realize that Ash’s demise would cause death as the Primal power was unleashed and found a new home. I didn’t even know why I was thinking about this.
I groaned as I shifted onto my side. I wouldn’t be here if I succeeded. I’d probably be destroyed—soul and all. The Chosen weren’t my problem. The politics of Iliseeum weren’t my problem.
Flipping onto my back and then side once more, frustration finally drove me from the bed. I tossed the cover aside, rising as I caught the ridiculously tiny sleeve of the nightgown Aios had placed in the wardrobe the first day. I tugged it up over my shoulder and padded barefoot across the stone floor. Grabbing the fur throw off the back of the chaise, I draped it over my shoulders, stepping out onto the balcony and into the silence of a Shadowlands’ night. I went to the railing, holding the blanket close as a rare breeze lifted loose strands of hair, tossing them across my face. The dark crimson leaves of the Red Woods swayed beyond the courtyard. How many gods were entombed there? Another random question that would—
“Can’t sleep either?”
I gasped, whirling toward the sound of Ash’s voice. He sat on the daybed outside his balcony doors. The silvery sheen of the stars above sluiced over the arm resting on one bent knee and the broad, bare expanse of his chest. My heart thumped even harder while the strangest urge to dash back inside and throw myself under the covers hit me.
Somehow, I managed not to do that. “I didn’t see you,” I said finally and then flushed. Obviously. “No, I can’t sleep.” I inched away from the railing. “How long have you been out here?”
