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“Worse. She would become lost.” He came forward again. “Does anyone else know this?”
“No.”
“Not even Nyktos?”
“I…I don’t think so. He’s always made a point of telling me that I am Seraphena, but how would he have any way of knowing?”
“He would if he looked,” Attes said. “He is, after all, a Primal of Death, retaining the abilities lost to Kolis. He can see souls, but I’m not even sure he would understand what he saw if he got the impression of two souls.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. Had Ash looked? I didn’t know. “But Kolis said he held on to my soul, keeping it inside me until he took me to the Triton Isles. Wouldn’t he have felt two?”
“I’m surprised he could even do that. So, it’s doubtful he knew exactly what he held. He could’ve grabbed her soul, which kept you alive. It’s anyone’s guess. Either way, do you understand what all of this means?”
My earlier unease multiplied, forming knots in my chest. “Based on your tone? Apparently, not.”
“Sotoria’s soul is in you, but you’re not her.” Attes’s gaze met mine. “And even if Kolis never realizes that, it means you’re not the weapon Eythos believed he created.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
You’re not the weapon…
I staggered back, bumping into the divan. Attes couldn’t be insinuating what I thought he was. “I’m still able to fulfill my duty.”
“Maybe,” Attes replied, eather pulsing in his stare. “But you’re not her, and we have no way of knowing if that matters. If I had to go off my gut feeling? It does. Which means you won’t be able to kill him.”
I sank onto the plush divan, my head shaking in fierce denial. Attes’s words pelted me like stones thrown against a fortress of adamant refusal instead of providing respite.
I felt no solace.
And shouldn’t there be? I didn’t want to do what it would take to fulfill my destiny. I should be celebrating this news, but there was no relief.
How could there be when it meant I’d never been able to save my kingdom? Everything I’d suffered and given up, all the sacrifices I’d made throughout my life for a kingdom that didn’t even know me. Not to mention the choices my family faced. They were all for nothing. All those years of grueling training and pushing my body and mind to the brink of collapse meant nothing. There’d been no need for me to learn what it felt like to be so godsdamn empty, what it took to be so, and what it stole.
Accepting that truth was unbearable, intolerable. It meant my life, my entire existence, had been a lie.
No.
I couldn’t accept that I wouldn’t be able to stop Kolis if I failed to escape. That he would survive, continuing to hurt Ash and others. There would be more favorites, and Sotoria…good gods, she would be trapped once I died. That was inevitable. I would not allow others to die to keep me alive.
No.
Attes’s gut instinct had to be wrong. Wouldn’t the Fates have known this? Holland? And if so, why had he spent so many years training me? Why did it matter if Kolis believed the one thrusting a blade through his heart was the one he loved? Perhaps it didn’t.
Because there was no way that everything I had given up—everything Eythos and Kolis caused—was for nothing. That it was all fucking pointless.
“You have to be wrong.” My shoulders squared. “You have to be.”
“I hope I am.” The Primal’s gaze was now focused somewhere above me, his fingers curled at the base of his throat.
“Nothing has changed,” I told him.
“Except if you attempt to kill him, and it doesn’t work?” His chin lowered. “What do you think he will do to you?”
“What he’s already done,” I said. “I stabbed him earlier. I missed his heart by an inch, and I’m still alive.”
Attes blinked.
“He was angry,” I amended, flattening my palms against my knees. “But he didn’t kill me. Obviously.”
