Page 201 of The Primal of Blood and Bone (Blood and Ash #6)

He followed me, letting out a low whistle as he scanned the grand vestibule.

The vines had shattered the windows and crawled their way in.

Their thick, gnarled tendrils crept and twisted along the walls and snaked their way around the columns as if they wished to squeeze the gold from the marble.

They slithered across the ceiling, their knotted limbs seeking and finding every crack like the fingers of something hungry.

And maybe they were. If you looked at them long enough, you could see the heartbeat echoing the one in my chest.

“Is the entire castle like this?” my father asked as the scent of damp soil and moss increased, and the air grew colder.

“The first floor and much of the second,” I answered, approaching one of the four arched entrances to the Hall of Gods. I ignored the chill that accompanied entering the space once designed to honor the gods.

Now?

Now, it was just a space fallen to ruin.

My father’s steps halted as he stared down at one of the vases. They were the only things that remained—that and the vines that blanketed the walls and pitched ceilings.

He knelt, taking a closer look at the poppies. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to. He’d likely never seen anything like them.

A thin layer of frost encased the flowers, freezing them in time. Beneath the glittering ice, you could see the vivid orange-red hue of the petals and the lush green of the leaves. Somehow, the poppies lived beneath the ice.

Movement snagged my attention. My gaze flicked up. A raven peered down from a tangled mess of vines, its silver orb eyes watching us. It wasn’t the damn bird that unnerved me, though. It was the crimson-streaked shadows pulsing through the vines.

“The Great Hall is straight ahead,” I said, knowing my father’s presence had been felt.

Damn, Cas had likely known the moment he crossed into the capital.

“Is he alone?”

“Attes is likely with him,” I told him. A huge part of me was still shocked that the Primal had returned after the blowout between him and Cas.

He rose, and we were about halfway across the chamber when we heard the quiet click of…heels. Frowning, I turned toward the larger atrium.

No one wearing heels would be in that part of the castle.

“Wait here.” I stalked toward the large, circular chamber.

Anger pumped through me as I briefly glanced at the wide staircase and then scanned the hall ahead. I didn’t have time to deal with whatever fool had managed to get into Wayfair.

A heavy thud echoed from the hall straight across from the stairs—the one that led to the dining and meeting chambers. The muscles in my neck tensed. “I thought I said wait.”

My father huffed from behind me. “And I thought you knew better than to issue such a ridiculous order to your father.”

I could feel the veneer of calm I’d been wearing for the last several days begin to crack as the clicking grew louder. I prowled into the middle of the atrium and jerked back a step the second my eyes locked on the pale-blond-haired female. It was her—

No, it’s not Seraphena, you dumbass. You would’ve felt her . This was the other her . The moment I realized that, my jaw unlocked.

Was this some sort of mirage? No one had seen her since Poppy was in stasis. But no, it was her.

Poppy’s sister. She strolled down the center of the hall as if out for a fucking walk in the park, her fitted cloak swishing around the ankles of her pointed-toe boots.

“I see some redecorating has been done in my absence,” Millicent said, the delicate lines of her brows arched. “I like it.”

I stared at her, too stunned to speak.

“Though I would’ve pared back some of the vines. Less is more, or so they say.” Millicent’s steps slowed, and her pale-blue gaze flicked behind me. “Who are you?”

“Jasper,” my father stated.

“Hello.” She gave a jaunty wave and tilted her head, sending several pale curls falling over her shoulder. “I’m—”

“I know who you are,” my father stated.

Blinking, I snapped out of my stupor. “Where in the fuck have you been, and how did you get in here?”

Millicent’s ruby-red lips parted.

I turned to my father. “And how do you know who she is?”

“She’s the Queen’s sister,” he answered blandly. “And it’s obvious. She looks like her.”

He was right.

And also wrong.

Millicent did share Poppy’s heart-shaped face, pointy chin, and cheekbones.

The shape of their eyes was the same, but Poppy’s nose was thinner, and her mouth was smaller.

Millicent was leaner and had a face full of freckles that were only visible now that the damn paint was absent from her face, but Millicent…

She was a dead ringer for her grandmother.

“Answer my question,” I demanded.

Crossing her arms, she met my stare. “How did I get in here? Or where have I been? Which would you prefer I answer?”

My patience thinned. “Either one, Millicent.”

She flashed a sugary-sweet smile I’d seen on Poppy every time she had to speak to Aylard, and fuck if that didn’t hurt. “How did I get in here? I know so many ways to get onto the Wayfair grounds and into this castle that your head would spin.”

Damn.

That wasn’t good to hear.

I needed to know all those many entrance points because I’d been confident we’d secured them when we first took possession of Wayfair.

“Then I’m sure you know there’s a main entrance.” Distrust brewed as I held her stare. “Why didn’t you use it?”

“Well, considering the current state of things…” she said, waving an arm around, “I had no idea what I would be walking into. Figured I’d better get in and check things out first.”

“Makes sense,” my father chimed in.

Millicent gave him a blinding smile. “Thank you. I thought it was a very senseful thing to do.”

The deep, long breath I took didn’t do shit for me as I resisted the urge to tell her senseful didn’t fit that sentence. “Where have you been?”

“Where have you been?” she parroted.

My nostrils flared. I didn’t even ask what kind of question that was. The answer would make as much sense as her throwing the question back at me did.

She shifted her weight from one heel to the other, and the corners of her lips tightened as her gaze darted around the atrium. “Where is my sister?”

What came out of my mouth might shame me later. “Like you give a fuck about your sister.”

Millicent stiffened.

“Kieran,” my father said, his voice low.

“No.” A muscle ticked in my jaw. “She’s been gone. If she cared enough, she would’ve been here.”

Something akin to pain flickered across her face as she sucked in a sharp breath, but I figured I had to be imagining it because I wasn’t sure Millicent was ever in the right frame of mind to experience that.

“You have no idea what I do or don’t care about,” she fired back.

“And you know what? I don’t—” A deep moan cut me off, drawing my gaze to the empty, dark hall behind her. Remembering the thudding sound, I took a step forward. “Millicent?”

She clasped her hands in front of her. “Yes?”

“What was that sound?”

“Why would you think I know what the source of the moaning in your haunted castle is?” she countered.

My father started forward, obviously at his wit’s end. “I’ll check it out.”

“No. No need.” Exhaling loudly, Millicent rolled her eyes. “I’ll go get him.”

“Him?”

She was already moving down the hall…humming.

My father looked over at me.

“I don’t even know what to say about that. Her.” I shook my head. “Whatever.”

Luckily, Millicent didn’t take her time. She disappeared around the bend in the hall and then reappeared a second later, dragging a…person-sized sack along the wall.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I muttered. What now?

“You know, I could use a little help.” She dragged what was clearly a person straight into the base of a heavy pedestal. “Oops.”

My father met her halfway and took the rope from her. He started to lift whoever was in the sack.

“I wouldn’t waste precious time or effort on him,” Millicent said, her arms swinging at her sides. “Thank you, kind gentleman.”

My father only looked at her and then dragged the sack a bit more gently as she skipped back to the atrium.

“Who is he?” I asked as my father let go of the rope.

“He is why I’ve been gone.” Millicent knelt and untied the rope at the top of the sack. Pulling the burlap back, she revealed matted, blood-streaked golden hair and—

“Callum,” I spat.

“Yep.” She rose. “I’ve been chasing him clear across the kingdom as he tried to get back to his daddy.”

“Daddy?” My father frowned.

“Kolis,” I said. “It’s not really his father but…” Picking up on another set of footsteps echoing from the corridor opposite the Hall of Gods, I dragged a hand down my face. Who now? Knowing my luck, it would be Reaver. “Where did you find him?”

“Somewhere between Lockswood and it doesn’t matter,” she replied as Callum’s pale face tensed. “Hold on.”

Before I could say a word, she reached between the halves of her cloak and spun. There was only a brief glint of crimson—bloodstone—before she plunged the blade into Callum’s chest.

My father’s brows lifted as the Revenant’s body jerked once, twice, and then stilled.

“Bloodstone burns like a bitch.” She wiped the blade on the burlap and rose, sheathing it. “I figured if anyone knew anything about Kolis, it would be him. He’s a fucked-up treasure chest of fucked-up information.”

I stared at Callum. Having him here a few weeks earlier could’ve changed everything. I kept that to myself. The less conversation with Millicent, the better. Glancing over to the hall, I spotted Malik.

A barely-there smile appeared on Cas’s brother’s face when he saw my father. It did little to soften the harshness of his features, but there was some measure of relief in his expression.

“Malik,” my father called after a deep inhale.

Seeing Malik was almost like looking at Valyn—a man he’d known his whole life. It had to be hard.

And he hadn’t even seen Attes yet.

Millicent stiffened, muttering under her breath, “Fuck my life.”