Page 147 of The Primal of Blood and Bone (Blood and Ash #6)

That thought made me think of Millicent.

Had she known about this? She knew about the prophecy, but did she know about this ?

I shook my head. Even if she did, what would it change?

It didn’t mean she supported it. She was, after all, just like me: a pawn moved across a board built long before we were born.

She had been designed to be the First Daughter…

Because it had been written in the prophecy.

As I sat there in the silent Vault, it struck me that Isbeth had likely only had Millicent because she needed a second daughter.

A harsh, short laugh left me. Gods. It was so obvious, yet we’d assumed that what Isbeth had planned had gone awry with Millicent. That she hadn’t been able to Ascend due to Casteel being so weak and tried again with me. In reality, she just needed two daughters born of the first mortal.

She had saved Millicent, though.

But what Millicent and I would never know is whether she had saved her daughter because of the verse that said— Together, they will remake the realms as they usher in the end.

Because of that, she knew Millicent needed to be alive.

Or was it done out of something akin to familial love?

It was probably the former, but that was going on the assumption the verse was about Millicent and me.

It didn’t matter either way. Because at the end of the day, Isbeth had ensured Kolis was free to come for one of her daughters. And, gods, that was…

It was beyond sick.

All of this was.

The facets of the diamond glimmered as I exhaled slowly and lowered my hand. How could any of this have happened?

Better yet, why hadn’t Eythos just found a way to let Sotoria die and stay dead? My eyes sprang open. If he had, I wouldn’t be here.

And, gods, that messed with my head.

So did the realization that this could be why I’d felt different since awakening. Not as if I were someone else but that I was… changed .

So did the fact that I was the object of Kolis’s obsession. To be honest, I wished he only wanted to take the embers and kill me. It was preferable to the alternative. Because that…

That made me think of the bars I’d seen and everything Kolis had put Sotoria through. It made me think of Teerman, his lessons, and what I didn’t remember—what I wouldn’t allow myself to remember.

I squirmed, my hand tightening around the diamond as my skin crawled. Itched. I shook my head again as if that could somehow make the feeling of being soiled go away. Prove none of this was real. That his love was the reason I had to be the one to kill him—something the Fates failed to mention.

Something like this can’t be okay.

But it didn’t matter.

Because Seraphena had spoken the truth when she said he would come for me. And I could see what would happen when he did.

He would bring death.

He already had to Stonehill. Except this time, it wouldn’t be against people I’d never met with names I’d never heard.

Because of his sick obsession, Kolis would bring death to everyone I cared about. That’s why people had already died. Why more would.

I could see it so clearly—like having a vision. And it… terrified me.

People I cared about would die. They would die despite the Joining. Survival wasn’t guaranteed. And I? I would be lucky if I died with them. Something bitter and slick made my chest tight.

Fear.

I didn’t choose this.

I’d had no say in what Eythos decided or my mother plotted. Eythos had decided to take my life and turn it into a weapon. She had plotted to take my life and use it as a tool for revenge.

My entire life had been this way until I chose myself in New Haven. Chose to have experiences. To love. To live . At least, that’s what I na?vely believed. But had any of it been a choice? Or had it been fate? Had it been the Fates?

The possibility of that shouldn’t affect me. I should be used to it. But it did. That rage I’d felt since Stonehill clawed its way out of where I’d tucked it away. It moved through me like smoke from flames smoldering for what felt like eons. The essence followed, coiling and stretching.

Something like this can’t be okay.

Opening my eyes, I forced a breath—in and out—then looked at The Star resting in my palm. I was wrong when I said it was like a tomb.

It had been a prison.

My fingers curled around the diamond’s uneven edges as the essence inside me pulsed hotly, my veins catching on fire.

Eather erupted from my hand in an intense, silver-gold glow tinged in black as the fury settled in my chest, heavy and hot. It sharpened every breath and heartbeat until the diamond caved in with a sharp crack.

I opened my hand. The remnants of The Star slipped between my fingers, catching the distant torchlight in a fleeting, faint glimmer before falling as dust to the floor.

Something like this can’t be okay.

The truth in those words crawled deep inside me.

But it had to be.

Because I could feel everything tied to it not being okay rising from that tight, aching place in my chest. It burned my throat and stung my eyes.

And once freed, it felt like every thought and feeling surrounding how not okay any of this was would be overwhelming.

Like I wouldn’t be able to control myself.

And that was weak, wasn’t it? I couldn’t afford that.

Not now. If I let it happen, it would be devastating.

I had to pull myself together.

I couldn’t be afraid.

I needed to be strong.

Brave.

I had to be okay.