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

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

If all that Casteel had alleged was true, the purpose the Temples served was another lie. Third sons and daughters weren’t given over during the Rite to serve the gods. Instead, they were given to the Ascended—the vamprys—becoming nothing more than cattle. Much of the pile of lies I’d been fed my entire life was terrible, but that was possibly the worst of them all.

I made assumptions about the Atlantian people? The Descenters? Biases were taught and learned. Maybe that wasn’t my fault, but that didn’t make it acceptable.

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

“Why did you have to tell me that Hawke was your middle name?” The fire crackled, spitting sparks, and I closed my eyes. Seconds, maybe minutes later, Casteel said, “Because you needed to know that not everything was a lie.”

Lying there stiffly, I debated snatching the meat knife and stabbing him in the arm with it. That seemed like a bit of an overreaction, but it was one I’d enjoy, at least in the moment.

My mother’s were brown, and I thought of how the Atlantians had golden or hazel-colored eyes. Had my mother’s been a plain shade of brown? Or had they been a golden brown?

“But, yes, most Atlantians have some shade of gold in their eyes. Only those of the elemental bloodline have pure golden eyes.”

“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.”

“Are any of them still in Atlantia?” “If there were, Cas would not be our Prince.” A muscle flexed in Kieran’s jaw. “The last of their line was gone by the end of the war.” “What does that mean? That Casteel

“They were deities, Penellaphe. The ones who created the elemental Atlantians. A drop of their blood is a drop from the gods. They would usurp any bloodline that sat on the throne.”

Okay, then. “And Casteel is of the elemental line?” “He is.”

“It’s also possible that neither of them were your birth parents.” I almost tripped again. “Did they just find me in a field or something and decide to keep me?” “Mortals often do inexplicable and strange things, Penellaphe.”

“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.” “Like a wolven?” “Yes. Some.”

“Many believe they are distant cousins of the wolven, the offspring of a deity and a wolven.”

Sparing a quick glance at Kieran’s stoic expression, I said, “I’m Penellaphe...Penellaphe Balfour.” Alastir’s gaze sharpened on me as his brows narrowed. “Balfour?” I nodded. “That’s an old name, one that goes back several hundred years in Solis,” Alastir said.

You are like a second daughter, but not in the way you intend.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said. “You’re beautiful when you’re quiet and somber, but when you laugh? You rival the sunrise over the Skotos Mountains.”

before he looked away. “And stop reading my emotions. It’s a bit rude.”

“I want a ring,” I announced. “I want an obscenely big one like I’ve seen some of the wives of wealthy merchants have. Their diamonds are so large they look like they should weigh down their hands.” He angled his body toward me. “I will find you a diamond so big it will enter the room before you do.”

“All kingdoms are built from blood. Atlantia is no different,” he explained. “The war that ended most of the warrior lines started with an uprising of elemental against the ruling line.” Remembering what Kieran had told me, I said, “The…the deities?” “Someone has been talking with you.” “Kieran told me about some of them, but I don’t understand. He made it sound like the deities held unquestionable authority—that they were the children of the gods and created the elementals.” “I’m sure Kieran would say that.”

and some with the deities. The war didn’t last as long as it did with the Ascended, but it was far more destructive. In the end, nearly all the deities had been slain, entire bloodlines were gone, and a deity still maintained the throne until he was finally cast aside and killed—this time for reasons that went beyond my ancestors deciding they were better fit to rule.”

“I’ve already told you why, once before.” He inclined his head when I glanced up at him. “He created the first vampry.” “King Malec? He was a deity?” Casteel nodded. Good gods, that meant that Casteel’s mother had been married to a deity?

The dimple deepened as he said, “Some were able to use the earth in battle—summon the wind or rain. They were of the primordial line. Others could call upon the souls of those who were slain by the one they fought. The one listed near the top?”

“Empaths?” “A warrior bloodline that died off shortly after the war, but these were even more unique, Poppy. The ones everyone dreaded to face in battle.” His fingers slid over mine, and I looked up at him. “They were favored by the deities, as they were the only ones who could do what the empaths could—read the emotions of others and then turn that into a weapon, amplifying pain or fear. Sending an army running before a sword was even lifted.”

“Then you should get changed,” he said, turning away. “I’ll get jealous if anyone else sees how pretty your legs are.”

out. He caught the next arrow intended for him. I stared at him. “I don’t know why any of you think this is your lucky day,” he yelled back as he turned around. He shattered the arrow in his fist. “It’s really not. Not when my cloak has been ruined. And I really liked it. It was warm, and now it has godsdamn holes in it. How will that keep me warm?”

Something about him being more upset about his ruined cloak than he was about having multiple holes in his body had a strange, calming effect on me.

“You’re bleeding.” “You have three arrows sticking out of you.” “You’ve been injured. Where?” He knelt beside me, ignoring my somewhat unnecessary observation.

“You took out the mouthy one?” I nodded as Casteel cursed when the arrow he’d been pulling on most likely got stuck on something important. Like an organ.

So very few had questioned what the Ascended claimed, and I’d simply accepted what they said, never truly giving life to any of the suspicions I had. That went beyond submission and straight into willful ignorance. Shame slithered through me, another tell-tale sign that in many small ways, I’d been a part of the problem. A spoke in the wheel of the very system that brutalized hundreds of thousands, including myself.

“I haven’t known you for long.” He gave a shake of his head, and I thought maybe he was searching for patience. “But sometimes, the things your mind conjures worry me.” “I think it’s a valid concern,” I grumbled.

Even as I struggled to keep my senses in check—even though I knew that many of the people of Atlantia didn’t welcome me—I started pretending again. But this time he was Casteel, and I was Poppy, and he truly was my Prince.

“I have a feeling the air is going to get a bit thick out here.” Naill hopped off the wall. “I think it’s time we head inside.” “Wise call,” Casteel remarked, his gaze, nearly feral, never leaving mine. Delano pushed off the wall. “Please, no stabbing. All of that makes me anxious.” I crossed my arms. “No promises.”

Tomorrow, I would question whether or not women actually slept in this…this scrap of silk, but tonight, I was too tired to even be concerned with it.

“Are you armed?” Casteel asked with a smirk. “You are, aren’t you?” “I’m so confused by what is happening here,” Nova whispered with a slight frown. “Apparently, she already stabbed him once,” Jasper informed the Guardian. “In the heart.” Nova looked at me. “And she cut me earlier tonight. Threw a knife right at my face another time,” Casteel ticked off his fingers. “Then this one time, in the woods, she—”

“You are what matters now.” Casteel kissed me, and it was hard and fierce. A clash of teeth and fangs that tasted of blood and desperation. “You do. We do. Us surviving this. That is what matters.”

With a whoosh of air, flames roared from the stone torch of Nyktos, flickering and dancing in the wind.

“Lower your swords,” she commanded, her chin lifting even as she lowered to one knee, even as a potent, helpless sort of rage drenched the space around her, one that carried the stench of a long-buried fear come to fruition. “And bow before the…before the last descendent of the most ancient ones, she who carries the blood of the King of the Gods within her. Bow before your new Queen.”