Page 135 of The Primal of Blood and Bone (Blood and Ash #6)

“Leopold?” she said, the skin at the corners of her mouth tightening. “And you were told they were your and Ian’s parents?”

“Yes.” I wasn’t sure how much I should tell her, but I decided to be upfront. “I was told Leopold was a viktor . I don’t know how much of that is true because Coralena…well, she was a Revenant.”

Seraphena’s features sharpened.

“But she wasn’t like the other Handmaidens.

She couldn’t have been,” I quickly added, remembering how Isbeth had told me that Coralena used magic to conceal her lifeless blue eyes from me.

“She knew some or all of what Isbeth planned, and with Leopold’s help, she took Ian and me away.

She went against Isbeth and… She died because of it. ”

Seraphena’s brow furrowed. “That is unusual. Are you sure she was a Revenant?”

“That’s what Isbeth said, and Millicent confirmed it,” I said. “But I was told that Ian was their son.”

Seraphena inhaled sharply. “Revenants cannot reproduce.” She swallowed and picked up a strand of her hair again. “But it’s possible she conceived Ian before she became a Revenant. That doesn’t explain how she maintained a sense of self, though.”

It didn’t.

“Is it possible Coralena wasn’t entirely mortal?” Casteel questioned. “Like Millicent? Or perhaps she descended more directly from a god—one who perhaps woke before you?”

“Is it possible? Yes.” Her expression smoothed out. “I will ask Ires.”

She spoke again as we passed narrow, arched openings dimly lit from within. “I grew up in Wayfair when the capital you know today was larger and its own kingdom. I, too, was Chosen. Not by the gods but for a god.”

“Nyktos?”

She nodded. “I spent most of my childhood alone. Except for Holland.”

My brows rose. “The same Holland I know?”

“I knew him simply as a knight tasked with my training.” She glanced at me. “Like you knew Vikter as a Royal Guard. Except I was trained to kill Nyktos,” she added, and I nearly tripped.

Casteel’s head swung toward her. “Come again?”

Her lips tipped up. “It’s quite a long, convoluted tale.” She looked over at us. “I will tell you about it someday.”

This time, when my heart skipped, it did so with hope—hope for a real, true familial bond not weighed down by deceit. “I’d like that.”

Her smile widened. “As would I.” She let go of her hair, and it slowly unraveled. “And Ires. He would like to see you and your sister once he’s well enough.”

The shadowy hall ahead blurred. I wanted to say that I’d love to do that but could only nod since I didn’t trust myself to speak. This was my first time meeting Seraphena in the flesh. I didn’t want to sob all over her.

A moment passed. “I wasn’t surprised when I learned of your name.”

My heart kicked up for some reason. “Isbeth named me after the goddess Penellaphe.”

Her nostrils flared as eather coursed through her eyes. “Is that what she said?”

“Yes…” A strange tingling sensation swept up the back of my neck and head as Casteel’s steps slowed. The narrowing hall ahead disappeared for a moment, replaced by walls of aged wood that carried the scent of smoke.

Your name wasn’t chosen by her.

I sucked in a sharp breath at the sound of Leopold’s voice, and I blinked rapidly.

“The goddess Penellaphe and I are very close,” Seraphena said. “And both your father and his brother spent a lot of time in her company. I think he may have had a boyhood crush on her.” She laughed softly, the sound light yet heavy. “She is your namesake, but he chose your name.”

You were not named by the Queen. I named you after my…mother’s dear friend.

A tremor coursed up my arms as Leopold’s voice echoed faintly in my head. But that didn’t make sense. He wouldn’t have known about Seraphena’s friendship with Penellaphe. And he wouldn’t have named me. He wasn’t my father.

“Are you okay?” Casteel asked quietly.

I didn’t know the answer to that as I tried to see Ires’s face, but I only kept seeing Leopold, which was strange because, as the years passed, I’d struggled to recall his features at all.

But now? I could easily see the proud lines of his jaw and how his chin ended in a slight point.

His broad and high cheekbones and pine-green eyes.

I’d been told I was a replica of Coralena when she was younger, but that had been an obvious lie.

I looked like Isbeth and, inexplicably, Leopold.

Confusion swirled through me as I stared ahead.

Perhaps it was because I didn’t remember seeing Ires before I went into stasis, and his features had transposed onto my memories of Leopold.

But that also didn’t feel right. And why would Isbeth lie about being the one to name me?

I almost laughed. Did she need a reason?

Something occurred to me then. Did Seraphena and Nyktos know about Malec and Isbeth’s son—the one Alastir had killed on Eloana’s orders? She had to. They were still awake then.

Casteel reached over as we walked and pressed his fingers under my chin. “Poppy?”

“Y-yes,” I said. “I’m fine. Just thinking about everything.”

Doubt joined the concern etched into his features. He started to speak when Reaver stopped at the mouth of the sunken chamber and turned to Seraphena. “She’s not in—”

“I remember what you said.” Seraphena cupped his cheek. “I’m ready.”

Feeling the low hum of eather, I wondered if Sera and Reaver were communicating with each other through the notam —something I couldn’t do with the draken.

They could sense my will, but it wasn’t like how I could communicate with the wolven—and Cas.

Either way, I took his hand and stepped into the sunken chamber, wanting to give them some space.

Pushing aside thoughts of Malec and Isbeth’s son, I glanced around.

The first thing I noticed was that the packed earth was now clear of the tattered clothing, broken bones, and debris.

I lifted my gaze to Jadis’s misshapen form. An ache blossomed in my chest.

Reaver entered first, walking to the wall to lift a torch. He turned, casting light toward where Jadis rested. “Where is—?” Seraphena jerked to a stop with a ragged cry. “Dear gods, my poor girl.”

My throat tightened as I watched her stagger forward and drop to her knees at Jadis’s entombed form.

Tears burned my eyes. Sorrow and anger radiated from Seraphena as she shook her head.

“Jadis has always been small.” Firelight glanced off Seraphena’s cheeks, catching the glisten of crimson tears.

“Like her mother. That’s what Nektas told me once.

But…” She wiped furiously at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“But she should be larger by now, even in her rest. She should’ve grown if… ”

Seraphena couldn’t seem to finish. She didn’t need to. Jadis would’ve grown if she’d been in a physical state to be able to. And knowing Isbeth—knowing what she did to those she held captive—the draken had likely been starved and wounded.

Reaver remained standing but moved back several feet from them. He stayed quiet as he stared at Jadis. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how long he’d spent doing only that since he found her.

I slipped my hand free of Casteel’s, wanting to go to Seraphena, wishing I knew her well enough to offer comfort.

I held myself back and folded my arms tightly.

The same anger I’d felt the first time I came here swelled, coating my insides with an icy rage.

The eather stirred but I willed it to settle.

This wasn’t about me and my anger and disgust.

Casteel shoved a hand through his hair. “How long do you think she was entombed?”

“I really don’t know,” Seraphena mumbled. “Decades?” She placed a trembling hand near the two growths atop Jadis’s stone head. “Over a century? Maybe longer.”

“Ires came to look for Malec two centuries ago,” I said. “But I don’t believe she was entombed for that long.”

Seraphena’s head cut to me. “Why do you say that?”

“Because Isbeth used her to kill Revenants. That was how Coralena died, and that was less than twenty years ago.”

Seraphena nodded as she turned her attention back to Jadis. “Isbeth will answer for this. She will answer for all her crimes. That, I promise you.” Heat traveled with Seraphena’s words, searing her vow into the earthen walls. “And she will pay gravely for them.”

My breath snagged. “Her soul…?”

“Is in the Abyss.”

“Good,” I said, feeling Casteel’s eyes on me.

Seraphena’s head lowered. “She is still your mother.”

“And she was a horrible monster,” I said. Seraphena looked over her shoulder at me. Words bubbled up, and for once, I didn’t stop them. “I used to struggle with who she was to me, how she treated me, and who she actually was. I no longer do.”

The moment I said that, I realized how true it was.

It felt like an immeasurable weight had been lifted from my chest. She was my mother.

She had been kind to me once, and maybe, on some level, she loved me.

But she was also a cruel creature who had killed Ian in a fit of anger.

Who’d tormented Casteel and Malik. Who’d overseen the torture of Preela and so many others.

I truly hoped her soul spent an eternity drenched in nightmares of her own making.

“I’m glad you have come to terms with that,” Seraphena said quietly. “Though I also wish you never had to.”

Nodding, I drew in a shallow breath and glanced at Casteel. He gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Unfolding my arms, I walked forward, and he followed close behind. As I approached, I heard Seraphena whispering to Jadis. I knelt on her other side.

“When you touched Nektas and woke him, it’s because you carry the embers of life and death in you,” Seraphena said, running her hand over the bumpy stone. “A draken feels that kind of power, even at rest, and even if they don’t fully understand what they are feeling.”

“And here I thought it was just your penchant for touching things,” Casteel said, closing in behind me.