The Primal of Blood and Bone (Blood and Ash, #6)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

“You should ask yourself why she asked me to make such a promise,” Kieran said. I closed my eyes.

But it did nothing to prevent him from landing a blow that hurt worse than any fists could. “And not you.”

What I picked up from her was a swirling mixture of fear, anxiety, and something flat. Emotionless. Empty. I concentrated on her. It was like peeling back the layers of an onion. The fear was hers, as was the anxiety and hunger, but what lurked underneath? That cold emptiness? That wasn’t her. That was him.

“You remind me of someone I once knew.” The other side of the lips tipped up. “He, too, loved her.”

“Can you control yourself if I answer?”

“Just spit it out,” Kieran said. “Delaying it will only give him time to do something idiotic.” I ignored that comment and repeated, “But?”

“Besides the fact that we need that limb and appendages…” I opened my mouth. “I wasn’t done,” he growled. “How do you think Poppy will feel when she wakes up and sees that you’ve lost more fingers, a hand, and possibly an arm?”

“Cas,” Kieran said, dragging his lower lip between his teeth. “This”—a golden glow pulsed behind his pupils—“isn’t about you.”

“I know!” she screamed, straining to look at Attes. “I know they weren’t of your blood.” Attes halted, blood coursing from the wound that was already healing. Her body shook with laughter. “I’ve always known they were his.” The Primal paled as he stared down at her, frozen. “Did you really think I didn’t know?”

can feel the eather building in you—eather you should not have. Eather that doesn’t feel like anything I’ve ever felt, and I’ve lived a long time. There’s very little I haven’t felt, and that makes you dangerous.” He held my stare. “To her.”

“I’ve leveled entire cities in my anger. Inspired families to turn against one another for no other reason than I lost my temper.” His nostrils flared as he pitched forward, supporting his weight on his good hand. “And I paid dearly for it. Others paid dearly. I had to learn the hard way. Don’t make the same mistakes I made, because Kolis will do everything in his power to get you to do exactly that.”

His inhale was sharp. “She doesn’t know how he fights,” he said after a moment. “But you do. It’s in your blood.”

“Casteel?” he called. When I faced him, he stared back with eyes churning with eather. “Be good to her.” I frowned. What a strange fucking thing to say. But I was too weary to point that out. “Always.” The smile returned. “And forever.”

“You know what she wants. And if she succeeds in using you, the very realm itself will be in jeopardy.”

A faint smile crossed his lips. “Penellaphe is a…good friend of my mother’s.” I frowned. “Penellaphe is a goddess.” “Yes.” He tucked an unruly wave behind my ear. “She is.” I stared up at him, confused. The Queen had named me. “And your nickname? Poppy? That’s because of your grandmother, too.” He laughed then, the sound rough under his breath. “Well, it’s more so due to my father. I overheard him once comparing my mother’s…temperament to that of a poppy.” A drier laugh left him then. “Unsurprisingly, it became her favorite flower.” “I don’t understand, Papa. How could her temperament be that of a flower?”

“I want you to remember this. She didn’t choose your name.” His lips thinned, and I thought I saw a flicker of the pretty silver light behind his pupils. “You were not named by the Queen. You were named in honor of the Queen.”

“We won’t let that happen,” Papa said, reaching for the hilt of his sword. “They can’t have her. We can’t let that happen.” “No,” the man agreed softly, looking over his shoulder at me with strange blue eyes. He then tugged the hood of his cloak up. “I won’t.”

“Look, I get it. You’re angry. You’re worried Kolis will find a way to get back inside her. You feel helpless and desperate. You would do anything for Poppy to wake up. I get it,” Reaver choked out. “Because I feel the same as you do. I’d do anything for Jadis to wake. But the difference is, I’ve spent a lot longer with that desperation.”

“I will do anything. Give anything. Please, Seraphena. Bring your granddaughter back to me.”

Pushing to my feet, I staggered toward the bed on weak legs, knowing that the… The Queen of the Gods had answered my prayers.

“Patience is a virtue rewarded with unvirtuous acts.”

“I was just thinking about the irony. You know? I was raised by a King and Queen and attended my brother’s training, yet you are better prepared to rule than I am.” I snorted like a little piglet. “I don’t know about that.” “It’s true. When I was held captive, you kept it together. You didn’t…” He looked away. “You didn’t neglect your duties. The same can’t be said about me while you were in stasis.”

I gaped at the towering structures of steel and glass that reached far above the clouds, dwarfing everything around them and casting long shadows over the earth below.

I felt her in every fiber of my being—warm and summery. The One who was born of Blood and Ash, the Light in the Fire, and the Brightest Moon. The true Primal of Life. The Queen. And my…grandmother.

“What is it about the women of the Mierel bloodline that attracts such reckless men with so little regard for their lives?”

“You make such threats because you have no idea what I am. Nyktos, on the other hand, did. But he still ran his mouth.”

“Who would’ve thought this would be the outcome of a Joining with a Primal?” He chuckled as if he’d said something funny. “Oh, wait. That’s right. We should’ve known. And by we, I’m not talking about you and me.”

“You don’t fully understand that you’re no longer a singular entity. But one would think you’d already feel enough guilt over being the cause of her weaker state.”

“So, tell me something, Casteel. Will you become the…fatal flaw in her armor?” he asked.

“You weren’t telling a total lie. More like a half-truth,” he clarified. “And need I remind you of the promise you had the wolven make?” Holland interrupted. “To put you in the ground if you lost control?”

“And he would do so without remorse,” Lirian added. “Which is why Vikter was incorrect. It is not your presence here that worries the other Fates. It is your husband.”

He was tall with golden-brown hair that brushed shoulders encased in a form-fitting, black tunic. I tipped my head back. He was really tall. His burnt-sienna vine pattern traveled along both sides of his jaw, thinning out at the temple and thickening once more along the hairline with a finger-width gap at the chin and forehead. There was a distinctly…feline quality to his high, angular cheekbones and eyes that curved slightly upward at the outer corners.

“Life always prevails, Poppy. Never forget that.”

“Poppy, you’re like an Ancient born, which was impossible until you.”

“Because you and the ones you Ascended are Deminyen,” Lirian spat, lips puckering as if he’d tasted something sour. “Deminyen,” I murmured, my brows knitting. “Doesn’t that just mean the Ancient Ones?” “Deminyen is a…class of primordial beings with no anchors—not even to the essence of the realms.” Holland paused to take a sip. “It includes the Ancients, like the ones you saw earlier.” “So, you’re saying no other true Primals are fully Ascended?” I asked.

“Only one of those exists,” Thorne answered. “And he is not a Deminyen. He’s…complicated.” Lirian snorted. “More like a complicated pain in all of our asses.” The smile Thorne directed at the other Ancient sent a chill skittering down my spine. There was a familiarity in how his features cooled and the curl of his lips, one I recognized as a promise of bloody violence. I blinked as he warned softly, “Careful.”

“I think she figured out the bad part of being a Deminyen,” Thorne noted.

“However, if you allow yourself to wallow in guilt that does not belong to you, then you will have the blood of hundreds of thousands on your hands.” My eyes snapped open, and I faced him. “I’m not wallowing. I know I’m not actively at fault but knowing that my mere existence caused all that death is still a lot to process.”

“I think it’s clear what I voted for.” Thorne placed his glass on the table and crossed his arms. “I was against it.”

“Do I even want to know what is happening behind me?” Kieran asked as he lifted the silver dome from the largest platter. “Probably not.” I watched the deep-gray armchair float over the bed and then lower, coming to rest quietly beside the table. I turned to Casteel. “Did you just…?” A dimple appeared on his right cheek. “Perhaps.” “How is it that you used the eather to…be incredibly lazy before me?”

“The Queen of the Gods is awake,” Reaver replied, his tone flat. “Therefore, she is meyaah Liessa.” Casteel’s finger stilled, and Kieran stiffened. “That is not what you said the last time we spoke.” “What I said was that it has never applied to Nektas or me,” Reaver replied, crossing his arms.

Letting go of my hand, he steered us toward the middle of the hall. I scowled at the fact that the statues were now out of my reach.

“Casteel said his mother and Malec stayed here.” My lip curled. “Now, I’m thinking about my mother-in-law and uncle sleeping in the same bed, and that makes me think of how messed up my family tree is.”

“I don’t expect you or anyone else to do what I am unwilling to do myself.” His mouth opened and then snapped shut, his nostrils flaring. “That’s the most idiotic ideology ever.” “Really?” I said dryly. “Because I learned it from you.”

Come for what’s mine, and I will undo your very existence.

“If I may?” Alaric spoke up as I resumed stroking Delano’s head when he bumped my hand. The Descenter continued at Casteel’s nod. “I think it would be wise to do what the Blood Crown never did. Tell them the truth about what the Ascended have done.”

“This design. What made you choose it?” “Oh, man.” Naill dropped his arm. “It’s something I saw beneath the garrison in the old tombs at Aegea.”

“There are rules,” she began, and I nearly groaned. “Rules I don’t personally agree with and do my level best to skirt.”

“I…” Her voice cracked. She closed her eyes, and I saw her fingers twitch at her sides. “I helped entomb my son.”

“Given what was done, it appears Isbeth plotted to use my son as a…vessel for Kolis’s aru’lis—his soul. Which would’ve been…” She inhaled sharply. “I can’t even think about that. And I don’t need to,” she said, sounding like she was convincing herself as much as us. “You were able to prevent that from happening.”

Are they going to put Sotorias soul in Tawneys body? and let her live out a life?