Chapter 383: Kindling for a Crimson God
The firelight danced across her face, painting her skin in shades of amber and shadow. Her silver-white hair had mostly dried, falling in soft waves around her shoulders.
Beautiful didn’t even begin to cover it.
I’d called Natalia my queen, kissed Skylar into submission, corrupted Emi into sothing softer and sweeter than she’d been before. Each of them had their place in the empire I was building, the collection I was assembling.
But Celeste...
Celeste was different. Dangerous in ways the others weren’t. Because she saw through
and stayed anyway.
"We should sleep," I said, forcing the words out. "Long day tomorrow, probably involving things trying to kill us. Standard Gate stuff."
She nodded, but didn’t move away. "Will you stay? I an, you were already planning to take watch all night regardless of what I said, but... I’d prefer if you stayed close. Just until morning."
"Not going anywhere, Cel."
She settled back against my side, her head finding that spot on my shoulder like it belonged there. Her arm ca around my waist carefully, avoiding my healing ribs.
"Satori?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For telling
the truth. Even if it’s ugly."
I looked down at her, at the way the firelight caught in her hair and painted her skin in warm colors that fought against her natural ice-princess aesthetic.
"Get so sleep."
She closed her eyes, and I felt the exact mont she surrendered to exhaustion, her body going heavy and trusting against mine.
The Consort’s Touch humd beneath my skin where we made contact. The Siren’s Gaze would’ve worked perfectly if she’d kept looking at
with those searching eyes. Every tool in my arsenal scread at
to push, to capitalize, to seal the deal while she was vulnerable and alone and dependent on
for survival.
Instead, I just held her.
Kaelen would’ve taken advantage. Would’ve seduced her thoroughly and added her to the collection without a second thought, especially given the opportunity practically gift-wrapped in front of .
But I wasn’t Kaelen anymore. Not entirely.
I was sothing worse. Sothing that felt guilty about what I’d already done to Emi and Skylar, even while planning to do it again because the Nectar made them need
in ways that went beyond simple desire.
The fire crackled. Celeste’s breathing evened out into proper sleep.
And I sat there like an idiot, watching the tunnel entrance and trying not to think about how right she felt pressed against .
I must’ve dozed off at so point, exhaustion finally claiming
despite every instinct screaming to stay alert. The weight of the day, the adrenaline crash from the Arborist fight, the constant vigilance—it all caught up at once. My head had tilted back against the stone wall, Celeste’s warmth against my side lulling
into a false sense of security.
I woke to her hand on my shoulder, fingers digging in with urgent pressure. Her face hovered inches from mine, close enough that I could see the genuine fear swimming in those periwinkle eyes.
"Satori. Wake up. Sothing’s wrong."
The tone cut through the fog of sleep like a blade. My hand shot to the bat lying across my lap, muscles tensing as I scanned the cavern for imdiate threats. My mind catalogued exits, weapons, the distance to the tunnel—
"What—"
"The fire. Look at the fire."
I followed her gaze to our makeshift campfire, and felt my stomach drop.
The purple flas had changed. They were still burning, still throwing off waves of blessed heat that had kept us alive through the night, but the color had shifted from that soft violet glow to sothing deeply, fundantally wrong. The flas now pulsed with a deep crimson hue that looked less like fire and more like infected blood pumping through diseased veins.
And they were growing.
Not just burning higher—spreading. The flas licked outward from the small pile of fungus I’d originally ignited, tendrils of crimson fire crawling across the stone floor with slow, deliberate intent. This wasn’t natural combustion following fuel sources. This was directed. Purposeful.
Like sothing was guiding it.
"That’s not normal fire behavior," Celeste said, her voice tight with controlled panic as she backed away from the spreading flas. Her hand found my arm, gripping tight enough to hurt.
"You think?" The words ca out sharper than I intended, but I was too busy watching the flas pulse and writhe to care.
She shot
a look that would’ve frozen water. "What did you burn? You said it was fungus from the tunnel."
"It was. Dried stuff growing on the walls, looked dead—" The words died in my throat as the implications hit
like a freight train.
"In a garden maintained by an entity that controls all plant life?" Celeste’s grip on my arm tightened to the point of pain. "Satori, you just fed it the Arborist’s own biomass. You gave it fuel composed of its own essence."
Oh.
Oh fuck.
The flas pulsed brighter in response to her words, as if acknowledging the truth of her assessnt. The crimson light washed over the cavern walls, and I swear to every deity in Apollo’s pantheon that the fire began to form a shape. Sothing vaguely humanoid, built from burning vegetation and waves of heat shimr that distorted the air around it.
The figure stepped out of the flas like it was walking through a curtain.
It towered at least eight feet tall, its massive fra composed entirely of smoldering vines, blackened wood, and that pulsing crimson fire that seed to burn without consuming. Where its face should’ve been, there was only a blank surface of smooth, pale bark—almost white in the firelight, like bone—with two dark divots carved where eyes might sit on a human face.
No nose. No mouth. Just those two hollow impressions that tracked our movent with an awareness that made my skin crawl.
The creature tilted its head, studying us with that eyeless gaze, and the temperature in the cavern spiked so high I felt sweat imdiately bead on my forehead.
"Oh fuck," I whispered, scrambling to my feet and pulling Celeste with . "Oh fuck."
The Arborist had found us.
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