A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire (Blood and Ash, #2)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

He was both the villain and the hero, the monster and the monster-slayer.

❤❤❤

“But then I was captured. And the worst part? It was my fault. I was still young and foolish. I thought I could solve everything by taking out King Jalara and Queen Ileana myself. I truly believed I could do it. I got close—near enough to make my move. Obviously, I failed. And then I learned what true terror was. You asked me earlier what they did to me. They refused me blood, kept me on the edge, giving me just enough to survive—sometimes barely, but the constant low supply affected my ability to heal.” Bile crept up my throat, but I said nothing as I stayed in his arms. “It takes a long time for that effect to occur, and they knew it. They didn’t brand me before they knew the mark would remain.” His chest rose against me. “When the ones they brought in to feed me were close to dying, no longer able to serve their purpose, they killed them right in front of me. Sometimes slowly, putting the same nicks and cuts into their skin until they died. Other times, they snapped their necks. But there were times that I was so hungry that I…” He swallowed. “It was me that tore into their throats and killed them. And they’d leave their bodies in there with me to rot. For days. Weeks. Nothing for me to stare at but the person I’d killed. Nothing to think about but what kind of life they’d lived before that moment, and what kind of future I’d stolen from them. Sometimes, the bodies would pile up, left in there long after the stench had passed.” Oh, my gods. My eyes were open but unseein...

What happened to casteel

The door suddenly swung open as Delano rushed inside, hand on the hilt of his sword. He drew up short, eyes bright as he checked me over and scanned the room. “Are you okay?” he demanded. Delano had the kind of face that often tricked you. Except for the nearly constant crease between his fair brows, there was a boyishness to his features. As if he would be grinning the second he thought you weren’t looking. But in that moment, with the hard set to his jaw and the steeliness in his eyes I’d never seen before, he looked as if he were a breath away from lopping off someone’s head. “Other than being angry about being trapped in here? Yes.” His eyes narrowed. “You weren’t yelling?” My brows lifted. “Not externally. Did you hear me yelling?” Delano’s head tilted. “What do you mean by…not externally?” “I was probably screaming internally for being locked in here.” “So, you weren’t screaming?” “No. Not out loud.” I crossed my arms. His already light skin seemed paler. “I thought… I thought I heard you calling my name.” The crease between his brows deepened. “Screaming for help.” Letting go of his sword, he ran a hand through his nearly white-blond hair. “It must’ve been the wind.” “Or your guilty conscience.” “Probably the wind.” I started toward him. There it was, a flash of a grin. “Sorry to interrupt.” “Interrupt what? I’m stuck in this room. What could—?” I shrieked as the door closed and locked. “Now I am yelling!” “It’s the wind,” he yelled back through the door.

Why? Does delano have a gift?? Or is poppy projecting?

A better question resurfaced as I opened the door to the stairwell. “Are all Atlantians’ eyes a golden shade?” “That’s an incredibly random question,” he said, catching the door before it swung shut in his face. “But, yes, most Atlantians have some shade of gold in their eyes. Only those of the elemental bloodline have pure golden eyes.” I almost missed a step. “Elemental bloodline?” I asked, looking over my shoulder. “Not all Atlantians are the same,” he remarked. “Did your history books leave that out?” “Yes,” I grumbled, facing forward. The texts mentioned the wolven as being a part of Atlantia, but nothing had ever suggested there were different…bloodlines. “What is the elemental bloodline?” “Those whose blood is purely Atlantian and can be traced back to the earliest known Atlantians,” he answered. “Not descendants by blood but by creation.” “They were created by other…Atlantians?” “Yes, by the deities, the children of the gods.” “Really?” I said doubtfully. “Deities?” “Really.” My brows knitted as we reached the landing. I wasn’t sure if I believed that, but what did I know? I looked back at him. “Are any of them still in Atlantia?”

Atlantians eyes

I waited while he stared at me. “Are you going to tell me what they are?” Amusement crept into his wintry eyes. “There were many bloodlines at one time. However, most have either died off naturally or were lost in the war. The changelings are another bloodline, although their numbers have significantly dwindled.” “Changelings?” I repeated slowly, having never heard the word before. “Most are of two worlds, able to shift their forms.”

Blood lines of atlantians and wolvens

I knew where he was heading with that. “Anyway, back to my original question.” “Yay,” he muttered. “If my parents were first-generation, then I would be second.” His gaze flickered over my face, passing over the scars without even so much as a slight widening of the eyes. “Assuming that they are both your parents, yes. I would almost think your abilities would make you first-generation, but it’s possible that you’re second.” “And all Atlantians have golden eyes, in some shape or form,” I said. “As I’m sure you can tell, I don’t have golden eyes.” “No, you don’t. But I never said all Atlantians have golden eyes. I said most do,” Kieran said, toying with the fork. “Changelings don’t, and they have no unique eye color. Neither did a few of the other bloodlines we believed had died off,” he added, the fork stilling between

Poppys origins?

Kieran stared at me, his lips twitching. “You have a selective memory. I said most can shift forms, but not all. And it would be extremely doubtful that even a first-generation descendent of the changeling bloodline could do that.” “Sorry, I got hung up on the whole shifting forms part. What can the others do? The ones who don’t shift?” “Some have heightened senses—mental abilities. As those of an elemental line often do.” “Like…being able to tell the future or knowing things about people?” He nodded. The woman who’d been in the Red Pearl came to mind immediately. She’d known way too much for someone I’d never met before, and I’d wondered then if she’d been a Seer, but it seemed more likely that she had been working with Casteel. But she’d said something. It had been strange then, but virtually meaningless. What had it been? You are like a second daughter, but not in the way you intend.

Could this be a connection to her mentally calling delano?

Atlantia rose from blood and ash. We are no longer a fallen kingdom. Not by any sense of the word. We haven’t been for a very long time. We are a kingdom of fire.”

Flesh and fire

Air hissed out of Kieran’s clenched teeth as he jerked back his arm. I turned, finding him standing several feet from me. I lifted my brows, thinking that was a bit of an overreaction to his arm touching mine. “You okay?” He stared at me, eyes wider than I’d ever seen before, but bright in an unnatural way. “You didn’t feel that?” “You touched my arm. That’s all I felt.” I watched him rub his arm. “What did you feel?” “A shock,” he said. “Like being struck by lightning.” “Have you been struck by lightning before?” “No. It’s a figure of speech.” He glanced at the door before those too-bright eyes settled on me. “You really didn’t feel that?” I shook my head. “Maybe it was like that static charge you get when dragging your feet over the carpet.” A faint smile tugged at my lips. “I used to do that all the time to Ian.”

Why did she shock him?