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

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

“What matters is that I choose her,” Casteel spoke, and my stupid, stupid heart skipped a beat, even though I did not choose him. “And that is all that matters.”

“There is no side of you that is not as beautiful as the other half. Not a single inch isn’t stunning.” His lashes lifted, and the intensity in his stare held me captive. “That was true the first time I said it to you, and it is still the truth today and tomorrow.”

“There’s the vicious little creature. I missed her.”

“I don’t want to pretend,” I whispered. “I’m Poppy and you’re Casteel, and this is real.”

“We’re not pretending, Poppy? No more? You want me. Knowing everything, you want me.”

“I would love to take my time because there are so many different ways I’d love to be real with you. Lay you out on the rocks and lick every inch of your body. Make you come that way. And then I’d want you on your knees and your mouth around my cock.”

“But I’d show you. I’d show you how to use your mouth and tongue. If we had time, we would play.” His hands tightened at my waist. “But we don’t have time, Princess.”

“I’m going to need you to hold onto me and not let go, because I’m about to fuck you like I promised.”

“Gods, you feel…” The hand guiding me spasmed and then loosened as I lifted myself on his length. “You feel like all I could ever want.”

And I chose him. I chose him because he made me feel like I was something other than the Maiden, and he saw me when no one else ever really did. He made me feel alive. He valued me for who I am and didn’t try to control me. And then it all seemed like a lie once I realized the truth of who he was and why he was a part of my life.”

Standing, I slammed the dagger onto the nightstand because there was a good chance I would use it. Especially when I turned to him and caught the slow perusal that moved from the tips of my toes all the way up the bare skin of my legs to the fluttery hem and the low neckline of the gown. Heated amber eyes met mine.

“Tell me about the conversations you and your brother escaped? The ones that drove you to the caverns. Tell me why you refuse to take the throne even when you know your brother won’t be fit to do it when you free him,” I demanded. “Tell me why you thought it was okay in the first fucking place to kidnap me and use me as ransom before you even knew me!” Frustration crowded my throat. “Tell me why it never occurred to you to mention the Joining. Tell me about Gianna, Casteel. Does she care for you? Does she want this engagement? Do you care for her?” He exhaled roughly, shaking his head, but I wasn’t done. “Tell me why you never told me the truth about Spessa’s End until I was here? Was it because you didn’t trust me with that information? Tell me about her. The one you loved and lost because of the Ascended. Tell me what happened to her. Will you even say her name?” My chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, and my anger overwhelmed my senses, blocking out his emotions completely. “Tell me how you can stand to be near me when I represent the people who took so much from you. Tell me why you really came to my room tonight. Tell me something that matters! That is real.”

“You want something real?” “Yes.” “I came to your room tonight to learn if what you said at dinner was true. That I was the first person to ever see you. That I was the first thing you ever chose for yourself. That you chose me when you knew me as Hawke, and even after you learned the truth, you still chose me,” he growled, his eyes luminous. “I came here tonight to learn if you really felt like you were betraying Vikter and Rylan, all the others and yourself. I came here to see if that’d changed. Was all of that real, or were you just pretending

“You’re an absolutely stunning, murderous little creature,”

“What was that about?” I asked. “You sending them off like that?” “It’s official,” Casteel said, watching Emil as he stopped to speak to one of the Guardians. “I’m going to have to kill him.” My head whipped in his direction. “What? Why?” “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

It was blood. But it wasn’t mine. It fell from above. The skies bled.

The hum in my blood grew, the buzz in my skin intensified, stronger than what I’d felt before, and that ancient sense of knowledge rose deep from my pain. The cords I could see so clearly rippled out from me, connecting me to each and every one of them. It gathered all their burning hatred and scorching loathing, their acidic bitterness and thirst for vengeance after years, decades, centuries of pain inflicted upon them. And I took it. I took it all inside me, letting it pour into every vein, every cell until it choked me, until I tasted the blood, until I drowned in it. Until I tasted death, and it was sweet.

Hawke. Casteel. The Prince of Atlantia. The Dark One. My husband. My heartmate. Casteel lowered to one knee, crossing the swords over his chest as he bowed his head between the vee of the deadly sharp blades. A stuttered heartbeat passed, and he lifted his chin just enough that he saw me.

“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.”