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

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

repeated Casteel’s reassurances, trying to ignore the rapidly building uncertainty surrounding how she would respond to me. She and I were bonded by blood but in a tainted, wrong way. How could that not skew the way she saw me? And how would she handle what Casteel and Kieran had become? And everything with her sons? My knees felt like they were made of jelly. And, gods, that made me feel like the girl from before. The one who, despite her suspicions, hadn’t asked questions or peered beneath the thin veneer the Ascended wore like a mask. The girl who took her lessons without any real fight, whether they came in the form of Priestess Analia’s sharp slaps or Duke Teerman’s favored cane. The girl who hadn’t even realized she’d been kept in a cage. The daughter of a traitorous false god who had allowed her heartache and tragedy to spoil any good in her. The product of rape—and that is what Isbeth had done. There was no prettying it up, and it would be wrong to do so. How could she not wonder if I would somehow turn out like Isbeth? That I, too, would become spoiled?