Page 83 of A Fire in the Flesh


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He wanted to.

There was no mistaking the lust in his gaze and the few words spoken since Kolis had begun this game once more, but there was also a lot of loathing, and I knew in an instant what would happen if Kolis discovered the truth about Sotoria’s soul and I survived all he’d do.

I wouldn’t survive what Kyn would do.

I wouldn’t want to.

And Kolis knew that.

“Good.” Kolis’s gold-flecked gaze swept back to me. “It’s a deal.”

“Honored,” Kyn murmured. “Your potential…gift moves me, Your Majesty.”

I hoped Nektas burned Kyn to a painful crisp.

Turning to Kolis, the Primal of Peace and Vengeance smiled. “I’m glad I came with one to give you.”

Kolis’s brow rose. “You did?”

“One moment.” The Primal twisted in his chair. “Diaval,” he called, setting his glass on a small table. “I hope you don’t mind that I had your draken assist me.”

“Not when it involves a gift,” Kolis replied.

My brows knitted as my gaze shot to the door. A heartbeat passed. Then another.

A tall draken with long, wavy blond hair entered. A jolt of recognition went through me. It was the one I’d tossed across a hall, the one who’d knocked me out. But at the moment, I couldn’t care less. Every part of me focused on his gift.

Diaval’s hand clasped the bound arm of someone whose head was covered in a burlap hood. The man’s black leathers and tunic were torn in several places, revealing slivers of bloodied flesh.

My heart thundered as they drew closer.

“Here you go.” Diaval shoved the captive forward.

The man stumbled. I held my breath. He went down, his knees cracking off the shadowstone tile. He made no sound as he swayed forward, his chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths.

“My gift…” Kolis cocked his head. “Is quite battered and bloodied.”

Kyn rose. “It required some convincing.”

The false Primal smirked. “I can see that.”

I knew—gods, I knew as Kyn rose and walked behind the kneeling man that this was no gift.

It would be a nightmare.

Kyn gripped the back of the burlap sack and ripped it off, revealing a shock of reddish-gold hair matted with dried blood.

My heart stopped.

It was Rhain.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The rising dread constricted my chest, stifling the breath I took as I stared at the god.

I barely recognized Rhain’s boyish features beneath the blood caking his face, but it was him. His nose was crooked, clearly broken. His lips were split and ragged. Only one dark brown eye was open. Barely. The other was swollen shut. And his neck…

Rhain had been bitten, but it looked like an animal had done it. If he weren’t a god, there was no way he’d still be breathing.

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