Page 14 of The Primal of Blood and Bone (Blood and Ash #6)

Yet there was an undeniable familiarity to the curve of his arms and the pressure of his chest against my back. It was as if some part of me knew him. Trusted him.

“Whatever it is.” His voice had deepened even more, his arms loosening just a fraction, conjuring thoughts of damp, humid air and needy kisses.

My eyes fluttered closed as I felt my body relaxing into his.

One of his hands slid across my stomach, sending another wave of hot, coiled shivers cascading through me.

“I am one hundred percent on board with it.”

My eyes opened.

“But that needs to wait,” he continued, turning us. “Unfortunately.”

It was then that I realized he had moved us away from the door—both of them.

Damn it .

Shoving the strange yearning for him aside, I pulled against his hold.

“Stop.” He walked us toward the side of the bed while I’d only managed to get a few inches between us. “I know you’re confused, but I can help you.” His voice was calm, soothing the fury building within me. “There’s no reason to run from me. You can trust me. Please.”

Trust?

Instinct—sharp and unyielding—sliced through his plea like a sword through silk. Energy surged through me, and it felt different. Colder. Darker. Foreign. It…it scared me.

It empowered me.

I drove my elbow back with all the force my confusion and fear could muster, aiming for the spot under his ribs. His breath whooshed out, the sound mingling with the thud of impact, and his grip loosened just enough.

Twisting free, I spun out of his hold and staggered back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words and the gentle tone surprising me. I had the impression he was not someone who apologized often. “I didn’t mean to scare or hurt you. That is the very last thing I ever want to do.”

“But you have,” I croaked, the accusation spilling from me before I could even understand where it had come from. His lips parted at the sound of my voice. “You have hurt me.”

He flinched as if I’d hit him in the stomach once more. I stepped back, the sight disturbing me as I rubbed my left palm over the center of my chest. Pain erupted where I touched, shooting across my shoulders and down my arms. I started to look down.

“You’re right,” he said, exhaling roughly. “I have. And my bones will have turned to dust before I forgive myself for that.”

I took another step back, a little dazed by the honesty of his words. He spoke the truth, but…

But truths were meaningless when I knew I could bend them to my will, shaping my own reality.

As could he.

“Do you…?” Glossy waves tumbled over his forehead as he curtly shook his head and took a deep breath. “Do you remember how I hurt you before?”

A hundred different words rushed to the tip of my tongue, only to vanish before I could speak them. I couldn’t answer him. Pressure clamped down on my chest. How could I not answer that?

Did it even matter?

Yes.

No.

My stomach churned with hunger, and my chest squeezed with uncertainty.

“Okay.” He drew in another breath, this one stilted as he came closer without me realizing he was moving. “Let’s start over. Your name is Poppy. You’ve probably already gotten that.” A brief, wry grin appeared. “My name is Casteel, but I…I love it when you call me—”

“Cas—” The word burst from me, coming from somewhere deep within.

“That’s correct,” he said softly, the aura behind his pupils intensifying at my sharp inhale. “What is the last thing you remember?”

Shadows and gold flashed before me. Gold bars. I opened my mouth, but the only word that came out was, “Pain.”

He flinched again as the taste of icy agony gathered in my throat. It wasn’t mine.

My eyes widened as I stared at him. It was his pain—the kind that went deeper than physical wounds. It shocked me that he allowed me to feel it. That he would allow himself to be so vulnerable. But I didn’t want to feel that. I couldn’t.

I shut myself down.

It was like closing a door. All at once, his pain disappeared, leaving only the feeling that I should be surprised by how easy it had been. Like I had struggled to do it in the past. But why would I have struggled with something so simple? I was a Primal god.

“What pain do you remember?” he asked, several inches closer now.

I couldn’t answer that either. An image flashed in my mind: crimson and dull-white—blood and bone.

“Okay.” A muscle flexed along his jaw. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Together?

“But first, you must be hungry,” he said.

An ache rippled across my jaw. I was.

“So very hungry,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving mine. I didn’t even think he blinked. “Right?”

I stayed silent, but my hands opened and closed.

It hurt to speak. It hurt to breathe. My head ached, and when I thought too hard, all I saw were crimson-laced shadows in my mind.

All I heard was instinct warning me not to trust him .

To… Get out before he grows even more powerful. Take him down. Do it —

“Stop,” I hissed, pressing my hands to the sides of my head.

“Stop what?” Concern colored his tone. “Poppy?”

I lowered my hands and saw him eyeing me like he could see right into me. It made me squirm. I lowered my hands the rest of the way. I needed to focus. I needed to…

Do it now. Do it before it’s too late. Don’t be—

“Weak,” I whispered as the beautiful man across from me watched.

“You’ve always been so weak and fragile,” he whispered. “I love that about you.”

“W-what?” A tremor ran through me. “I’m…not weak.”

His eyes widened. “I didn’t say you were.”

“Yes.” I drew in a ragged breath. “Yes, you did.”

His dark brows furrowed. “I asked if your head was hurting you.”

I stared at him, my stomach shifting. I’d seen his lips move. I’d heard him whisper—

“Poppy?” Was he closer? I thought he might be. “What did you hear?”

“I heard…” I folded an arm over my stomach and glanced at the doors.

“No.”

The sharply spoken word drew my attention back to him.

“The result of what you’re thinking will be the same as before,” he warned softly. “And there’s no reason to run. I won’t hurt you again.”

Don’t trust him.

His lips pressed together as he fell silent. Several heartbeats passed, his eyes searching mine. It really was like he could see right into me, and I didn’t like it.

Then, he did the strangest thing.

He grinned, one side of his mouth tipping up. It didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

His statement caught me off guard. “You don’t…scare me.”

“Is that so?” A tinge of satisfaction filled his voice. “Then why do you keep backing up?”

I wasn’t…

Reaching back, I felt the cool stone wall.

He lifted a brow and crossed his arms. For a moment, I was distracted by how the simple movement caused the skin of his biceps to tighten and the muscles of his chest to flex in the most fascinating manner. Heat crept into my cheeks.

Honest to gods, it was the very last thing I should be paying attention to. I could almost hear a weathered voice telling me to focus. The voice that belonged to…

I couldn’t remember. Frustration rose, and I gripped my gown tightly.

“I know you’re confused right now,” he said.

“You…said that already.”

“I wasn’t done speaking, Princess.”

A jolt ran through me when I heard him calling me that over and over, a hundred—no, a thousand—times.

“And on top of that, you must be starving. But deep down, you know who you are,” he continued. “You know who I am. Deep down, you remember how much I mean to you.”

Dryness coated my mouth, and I loosened my grip on my gown.

“Your love for me is the only thing allowing you to stand before me without going for my vein, despite how badly you need to feed,” he revealed. “You don’t want to risk hurting me.”

A shock ran through me. Was that the reason? Why I ignored the instinct? The pounding in my head increased, causing my muscles to tense. The hunger was making it so very hard to concentrate.

“Yet, I’m offering my vein to you.” His voice deepened, turning hoarse. “That is how powerful our love for each other is.”

I closed my eyes, but it didn’t stop my heart and soul from recognizing the truth of his words. He loved me. I was his—

A rush of cold rage came from nowhere, throbbing deep within me and stoking my hunger. The pang was so intense it sent a wave of dizziness through me, filling my ears with a low buzz. Fearing I might actually pass out or vomit, I closed my eyes.

“Penellaphe.”

Air leaked out of my lungs at that cold voice threaded with scorn. My fingers brushed the slightly indented, uneven skin of my left cheek.

Such a shame.

Bile crept up my throat as I opened my eyes.

My heart immediately sped up as I saw the man.

It was like something had unlocked the part of my mind that held unwanted memories, because I recognized the pale, ivory skin, the fair hair, and the black, bottomless eyes. I remembered everything about him .

The Duke of Masadonia.

Duke Teerman.