Page 66 of The Primal of Blood and Bone (Blood and Ash #6)

“She’s married,” Holland announced. “Happily so.”

Golden-brown hair brushed the pattern along his jaw as he dipped his head. “Is that so?” he asked, the silver flecks in his swirling eyes brightening. “How happily?”

There was something about his voice. It had lowered and smoothed, yet it sounded like a whisper and a yell at the same—

Mother.

Fucker .

My nails dug into my palms as I smiled up at him. “Happily enough to rip your dick off.”

His head drew back, the eather dimming in his eyes as he chuckled. “Just checking.”

“To see if you could compel me?” I demanded, anger spiking.

His smile was teasing. “To see if you really were our newly Ascended Primal.”

“As if I’d be here if I weren’t,” I snapped, forcing my hands open as I turned.

Thorne sat in the chair Vikter had occupied, stretching out his ridiculously long legs.

“You were asking if we knew how many died. Too many,” he repeated, all softness gone from his features and voice.

“The Continents beyond the Veil are not only several times larger than the lands you know but also heavily populated. Even the city you saw fall, which I believe was once a part of the Laurasia Continent, held more souls within it than the entirety of your kingdom. And that was not the only city to go to ruin, nor was he the first to Awaken.”

My shoulders curled toward my chest as I thought about what I’d heard when I first arrived in the place he’d called the Continents . “The eruption?”

Thorne nodded. “One Awakened near a volcano that had erupted in the past.” A heavy sigh left him. “The number of casualties would seem so impossible it would mean nothing to you.” Sorrow threaded each word. “It is truly more than you can comprehend.”

I believed him. And good gods, I wished I didn’t.

“Is there anyone left?” I asked, my voice still hoarse.

“There is.” Holland sat in the chair next to Thorne. “Life always prevails, Poppy. Never forget that.”

I nodded, blinking back the hot sting of tears. I had a feeling crying in front of them would be like limping in front of a cave cat.

“Before we were interrupted,”—Holland paused, pointedly looking at Thorne—“you asked if I felt the same as the other Ancients. If I agreed with the cleansing. And I said I did, but what I thought changed.”

I nodded.

Holland leaned back in the chair. “But I still ended many lives in my journey to understand what I was feeling then. Experiencing emotion wasn’t something we were used to.

” He lowered his gaze to his glass. “I stood with the Primals and fought my brethren, but that doesn’t undo the horror of my actions.

I still see the pain of those I slaughtered for what I wrongly believed was the greater good.

” He took another drink. “You must think I am a monster.”

“A little.” I swallowed hard, not really sure what to think. I didn’t know this man, and even though he was a Fate—an Ancient—I didn’t know if I could trust him. But… “If mortals can change, then so can gods.”

“You truly believe that?” Lirian asked.

“I do,” I said without hesitation. People could change. I believed in that—I’d seen it. “And you must believe that, too, since he’s here.”

Lirian neither confirmed nor denied that, which was really comforting.

Glancing at Thorne, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d also been like Holland or if he’d been one of the ten. I decided against asking, though. What would it matter at this point?

Holland studied me for several moments before casting his gaze forward. “We all stand here today because we ensured we could no longer suffer the same fate as our brethren.”

My brows lifted. “I’m hoping you will explain that further.”

“All of us released embers of our essences to become what we are today, what others know as the Arae.” Lirian tilted his chin back. “You can look at our eyes to see that. They do not carry the gold of life nor the crimson and shadows of death.”

“Our purpose is to ensure the balance.” Holland set his glass aside. “And that those who went to ground never wake up.”

But they had.

Lirian sighed, folding his arms over his broad chest. “You were right earlier when you said an Ancient is capable of destroying a realm. They can do so with one hand and create a new one with the other. Those of us who became the Arae can no longer harness that type of power. But you were also wrong. You can.”

My jaw hit the floor.

“Eventually,” Holland tacked on. “You are like us. Like those you saw Awaken today. Which is why you were drawn there.”

“That’s…” I shook my head, my heart thudding. “You’re saying I’m a…” I almost couldn’t bring myself to say it. “A Fate?”

“I said you are like us,” he stressed. “You are blood and bone, able to wield power over life and death. And as you grow stronger and older, as your powers mature, I suspect you will develop more abilities.”

“More abilities?” Curiosity rose. “Like what?”

“That’s neither here nor there,” Holland said, picking up the carafe and pouring himself more of the strangely colored liquid.

“But—”

“You will have to live long enough for that to happen,” Lirian snapped.

I closed my mouth.

Holland’s stare moved to the other Ancient, and he said, “Poppy, you’re like an Ancient born, which was impossible until you.”

“None of this makes any sense.” Running my fingers over the buttons on the robe, I gripped the sash I’d left undone and began twisting it.

I remembered what Nektas had told me, and it sounded like he’d left a whole lot out.

“I know there was some sort of cosmic restart when Seraphena Ascended to the true Primal of Life, but only once a female descendant was born and had Ascended.”

Holland idly ran a finger along the rim of his glass while Thorne remained quiet beside him. “That is true.”

“So, that doesn’t explain how I’m like an Ancient born.”

“What Nektas told you was partially correct,” Holland shared, and a shiver curled down my spine at the reminder of just how much they knew and saw. “You are the result of a…perfect storm of several variables that alone are one thing but combined become something else entirely.”

“That explains nothing.”

“You are descended from Seraphena, who was born of the bloodline of the first mortal,” Holland said.

“Seriously?” I whispered.

“He wouldn’t have said it if he wasn’t,” Lirian retorted, voice thin with a distinctive note of impatience.

“But you were also born of a demis—a false god, yes, but a tragically powerful one. That’s a variable.

Another is that you were also born of a direct descendant of two Primals, one being the true Primal of Life and another who is a Primal of Death—second only to his Queen and Kolis in terms of power. ”

“A third variable is that you are a second daughter,” Lirian added.

Holland huffed as he took a drink, and I looked at him.

“The reasoning for that is roughly the same as why the Ascended covet second sons and daughters,” Lirian continued as Holland’s gaze met mine. “Is there something you want to add, Holland?”

Lowering his glass, he smiled tightly. “Only that her situation is…a little more complicated.”

I laughed then. “A little more complicated?”

“And unexpected,” Holland said. “It was not just your birth that made you what you are today. It was also the choices you and others made—choices born of all the emotions one can feel.”

“Careful,” Lirian warned softly.

“The Joining,” I whispered, feeling my cheeks heat. Did they know what had transpired during the—?

Thorne’s gaze caught mine, and I caught the slow curl of his lips.

Nope.

Wasn’t going to think about that.

Besides, what Holland had said—a single word, actually—caused my thoughts to flash to what I had seen while in stasis.

Unexpected .

It wasn’t the dreams of the ten Ancients I searched through. It was the… I sucked in a sharp breath. “When Eythos created the draken, he didn’t know the—”

“Dragons,” Thorne interrupted. “They were called dragons.”

“Okay.” I drew out the word. “Thanks for the input. But the dragons had emotions and intelligence. That’s what gave mortals the ability to feel.”

“Duality always carries uncertainty,” Holland remarked.

I moved toward the window. “And the Joining… That included one of dual life.” As soon as the words left me, instinct told me I was right. “That’s another variable. A big one.”

Holland nodded. “Those of dual life are not just closely tied to the gods. They are tied to the Primals—to a true Primal of Life. Like the first Primals and those who created them, they are beings of pure essence, able to change forms at will.”

A dull throb in my finger suddenly drew my attention.

I looked down to see that I’d wound the robe’s sash around my finger so tightly that it had turned white.

I unwound the sash and thought about my mother.

How Isbeth had commented on my relationship—Casteel’s and my relationship—with Kieran.

I’d thought she was just being crude. Had she been seeking to know if we’d completed the Joining?

My head jerked up to find Holland watching me. “Did my—did Isbeth know what the Joining could do?”

He was quiet for a moment and then said, “Isbeth knew many things. She knew that one of her daughters would be powerful. But this? She could not know what we could not understand fully ourselves.”

Was that why she’d been so surprised when I called for Seraphena? She’d said it wasn’t time. I had thought she was talking about my Ascension, but now I wasn’t sure what she meant by that.

“Isbeth was many things, Poppy, as I’m sure you know.

” Something close to empathy shone in Holland’s eyes, and I looked away from it.

I didn’t want to see it. “What she desired and what those who aided her wanted were two very different things. She may have realized that if she had not been blinded by vengeance and wrath.”

My heart stuttered. “What do you mean?”

“All he can say is that her fate was sealed long before you were born.” Lirian pushed off the window. “Her choices ensured that.”