Page 179 of The Primal of Blood and Bone (Blood and Ash #6)

Resting his hand on the hilt of his sword, he looked down at me.

“Eloana loves both of them with every fiber of her being. More than she loves Atlantia. She…” He angled his body toward me, his voice lowering.

He appeared like he wanted to say more, and I had a feeling I knew what it was.

He swallowed and looked at his sons, then returned his gaze to mine. “I spoke to Malik last night.”

“How did that go?”

“Surprisingly well,” he said. “Come to find out, he already had his suspicions.”

My brows rose at that. He did? I looked at Malik.

Even though he was with Cas and Kieran, there was a distance between them that went beyond the physical.

He was silent as he stood close enough to be included in whatever they discussed, but something about him felt absent.

It made me think that his silence might be due to having nothing to say but also because his focus was elsewhere. On Millicent.

“Where is Attes?” I asked.

“He was here, but I think it was a bit overwhelming,” he shared. “The attention.”

Tawny’s comment immediately came to mind.

“He’s around. Where, though? I have no clue,” he added. “But I believe they are ready for you.” Valyn bowed slightly as Casteel stepped away from Kieran and his brother. “I will be right behind you all.”

I started to turn but stopped. “Valyn?”

He inclined his head.

“I try not to hold grudges,” I told him, aware that even though I spoke low, Casteel could hear. “I’m not always good at it, but I…” I let out a long breath. “I understand why Eloana lied. It’s not something I will hold against her. I don’t think her sons will either.”

Valyn nodded, his smile tight as he blinked rapidly. “That’s…” He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

When he stepped away, I didn’t stop him.

What was that about? Casteel’s voice came through the notam .

I met his eyes. I was just telling him something he needed to hear.

He tilted his head as he took my hand, then pressed his imprint against mine as he brushed his lips across my forehead. Malik asked if we planned to bring up the Ascended.

Gods, that had entirely escaped my mind.

I told him it was something best left to the town halls so our message would be clear, and we could answer their questions.

Good call.

His lips pressed against my temple. He also shared that he and Helenea started speaking to the Ascended they believe will be open to living like the Unbound. He didn’t get a chance to mention that.

I nodded as I glanced past Casteel. Malik now stood with Kieran, his features set in cool indifference. I wondered why he wore a mask among those who knew him.

How did that go? I asked as Cas grabbed my hand and guided me forward.

So far, so good.

I felt a smidgen of relief, even though I knew the path forward with the Ascended wouldn’t be easy.

“Ready?” Kieran asked as we approached.

I nodded as Vonetta stepped in behind us and took my glass.

“Are you sure you do not want to be announced formally?” Hisa asked.

“We’re positive,” Casteel confirmed.

As Hisa stepped back, Vonetta’s bright gaze met mine. “You’ve got this.”

I took a deep breath, realizing I really didn’t need to. “I do.”

CASTEEL

My heart beat slow and steady, mirroring Poppy’s as we neared the balcony’s open doors. Whatever previous nerves she had regarding the address seemed to have vanished, but I kept her hand wrapped firmly in mine.

“The curve of the balcony will help project the sound, as will the limestone and marble mixed with the gold.” Kieran’s gaze met mine. “So, keep that in mind if you’re about to say something you don’t want half the capital to hear.”

I huffed out a dry laugh. “Noted.”

Poppy nodded and then sent Malik a pointed look. He currently appeared as if he were attempting to disappear into the wall.

“I’ll be right behind you.” He sighed.

His obvious discomfort was as amusing as it was strange. The Malik I’d grown up with would’ve loved to bask in the attention of such a large audience.

But he wasn’t that Malik anymore.

Poppy’s small hand squeezed mine, drawing my attention forward. Hisa and my father appeared on either side of the doors, and they opened them in unison, letting in the cool breeze.

The crowd below immediately quieted, and then silence descended on those farther out.

Poppy and I stepped out beneath the overcast sky, followed by Kieran and Malik.

Poppy sucked in a sharp breath when she got an eyeful of everyone staring up at us. Her heart sped up a little but quickly calmed as she scanned the city.

With the number of mortals below, it was shocking how quiet it was, save for some scattered coughs and the cry of a babe.

People crowded the courtyard, filled every street of the Garden District, and watched from open windows.

There wasn’t a bare spot as far as the eye could see, and not one Primal god lurking about to stare at my wife.

I glanced down at Poppy. Our eyes met, and her lips curved up. Fuck, if my heart didn’t skip then. Resisting the urge to kiss her, I refocused. The faster we got this over with, the sooner I could taste her lips.

There was no better motivation.

We walked to the center of the balcony and the gentle curve jutting out over the courtyard. Still keeping our hands joined, I placed my other on the cool railing, feeling the smoothness of the stone and the roughness of the crushed diamonds. Poppy did the same—

A whooshing sound snapped my head to the right as Malik jerked to his left.

His eyes widened as silvery-gold flames erupted from the stone torch.

One by one, the others followed—igniting in a rippling line across the Sun Temple walls until the torch to Kieran’s left sparked to life, casting a silver glow on the crowd below.

“Those torches,” Malik uttered as murmurs swept through the crowd in a wave. “I’ve never seen them lit.”

I looked down at Poppy.

“That wasn’t me,” she said, her head lifting.

Following her gaze to the veil of clouds, I squinted as the faint scent of…lilacs reached me.

“Seraphena,” Poppy whispered.

A large, winged shape took form in the sky—no, not one. Three.

The draken.

They broke through the clouds. Brownish-green scales. Ash-colored ones. Purplish-black. Aurelia. Nithe. And the fucker. A pulse of unease and awe swept through the crowd as the draken’s wings stretched wide. People began to move, bumping into one another.

“It’s okay,” Poppy called out, her voice carrying over the crowd with a distinctive throb of eather. “They are not here to harm.”

“If you say so,” Kieran muttered.

Poppy shot him a murderous glare, but the people…damn if they didn’t calm.

“They’re not going to land…” Malik trailed off as Aurelia descended first, landing on a spire.

Nithe was next, coming down on the spire to our left, his long, black tail wrapping around the stone column.

A dark shadow fell upon us, and Kieran stiffened. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered.

The Temple shuddered as Reaver landed on the spire directly above us, drawing Hisa and my father out.

I watched, somewhat fascinated, as he climbed his massive ass down the spire, his claws leaving grooves in the stone as his spiked tail whipped behind him in an arc.

He planted a huge talon on the flatter roof at the spire’s base and stretched until his head was close enough that I could likely smell his breath if I inhaled deeply.

My gaze shifted to Kieran, whose head was only a few inches from Reaver’s.

He stared straight ahead, arms crossed with an expression that said he couldn’t be any less impressed.

Reaver puffed out a breath that rolled over us.

Kieran’s nostrils flared, and eather pulsed behind his pupils.

And that damn draken made a chuffing sound a lot like a laugh.

“Behave,” Poppy warned. I had no idea if she was talking to Kieran or Reaver.

It didn’t really matter because, as we faced the crowd, I saw that whatever momentary calm had held them immobile had disappeared.

They began to lower to their knees in groups of tens and then hundreds.

The young and the old, bending the best they could.

Even the youngest lowered as voices rose, shouting about the gods and being blessed until it seemed like the entire city had bowed.

Poppy exhaled softly. “We did not come here for you to bow before us.” She spoke with only a slight tremor to her voice. “Nor for us to stand above you as conquerors or gods. We are your—” Her words ended suddenly, her eyes widening as we felt it simultaneously.

A shift in the realm.

A presence or awareness similar to a god’s but different. Darker. Oily.

Poppy stiffened beside me as Kieran stepped forward.

What are we feeling ? Kieran reached out through the bond.

I don’t know, I sent back, scanning the area below. The crowd was still kneeling, glancing at one another as the silence continued. The swell of confusion and uncertainty was hard to push out. Poppy?

Her response was immediate. Something is here . I don’t know what. It feels like a god…but not.

A gust of hot air blew against our backs as Reaver lifted his head.

Like stone cracking, a low, rhythmic clicking sound reverberated from deep within his throat.

The sound built, becoming a low growl of warning.

Aurelia and Nithe repeated the unsettling sound as I continued to scan the people below.

Unease grew from the mortals, rippling throughout the crowd.

Gold armor glinted as soldiers turned to look up at us.

“Cas.” Malik’s voice was low as I felt my father step onto the balcony. “What’s going on?”

Before I could answer, a low murmur rose from one of the streets to our right, intensifying with each passing second.

We turned as those filling the street flanked by stately row homes, their brick facades painted ivory and crimson, began to rise slowly at first and then with a speed that bordered on panic.

The heavy thud of hooves echoed alongside the clattering of carriage wheels against the cobblestones.

Poppy pushed back from the railing as two Atlantian soldiers rode out from one of the side avenues blocked by the several-story row homes and turned onto the street ahead of us.

Beneath the steel helmets, their stares were fixed straight ahead, faces devoid of emotion.

My gaze snapped to the black carriage pulled by white horses—and not just any type of horse. They were sirtians. Atlantian horses.

And not a soul led those horses.

No one sat on their backs or in the driver’s seat.

“I’ve got a not-so-great feeling about this,” muttered Kieran as those below rose swiftly when the Atlantian riders bore down on them.

Neither did I as the soldiers drew to a halt. They didn’t dismount. They didn’t even move. They remained facing forward.

“I feel nothing from them,” Poppy whispered. “Absolutely nothing.”

“What the hell?” my father muttered.

I saw immediately what had garnered his response as the carriage turned onto the courtyard below, baring its side to us. You couldn’t miss it.

It was the Royal Crest of the Ascended—a circle with a slightly off-center line cutting through it—but painted in crimson instead of gold. Depicted as such, there was no mistaking what it had always represented.

Death.

The essence rising in the three of us spiked as the carriage door swung open.

A dark-red, sharp-heeled boot appeared first, the pointed heel striking the cobblestones with a crack, followed by the slow sweep of a matching gown that flowed like spilled blood from the carriage.

The deep crimson gown clung to long legs and rounded hips. My gaze lifted as tension seeped into every muscle. A lacy veil was draped from the head, the wind lifting the scalloped edges that ended just at the waist.

My heart kicked up, mirroring Poppy’s as the figure below glided toward the Temple, paying no attention to the frozen mortals. The veiled head tilted back.

“No,” Poppy whispered.

That single word was like a crack of thunder in my head as she shot toward the railing. She clasped the stone as the figure raised gloved hands, gripped the edge of the veil, and lifted.

Time seemed to slow.

Sound disappeared.

Inch by inch, what stood below was revealed.

An impossibly narrow waist. Dark-auburn hair.

A chest nearly exposed by the deep cut in the gown’s bodice.

Lips painted red—full lips curved in a tight smile.

A narrow nose pierced by a ruby. High cheekbones.

A face shaped like the one standing beside me.

When the veil was lifted completely and left to stream down her back, I knew the eyes would be dark but not as black as an Ascended’s. A part of me thought I knew the moment Poppy did when she whispered that single word.

But it was impossible.

What stood below us, what stared up at us with a mocking twist of blood-red lips, had died. Had been torn apart at the Bone Temple until nothing was left.

But she was here.

And the bitch was smiling up at us.

Isbeth.