A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire Read online Jennifer L. Armentrout (Blood and Ash #2)

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Tags Authors: Series: Blood And Ash Series by Jennifer L. Armentrout
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Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
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“Oh.” I blinked slowly. “Alastir didn’t mention that.”

“Wait.” He swung his head toward mine. “Do you even know what could happen during that ritual that would make it so very crude—”

“I know what could happen,” I snapped.

“Is it because of that diary?”

“Shut up.”

“Did you bookmark the chapters detailing how Willa spent afternoons entertaining not one but two suitors, one in front and the other—?”

“You seem to know a lot about that book.”

“I love that fucking book,” he said, and my jaw ached from how hard I was clenching it. “So, you’re interested then, Princess. What a wild side you have.”

“That is not what I said!” My cheeks flushed.

“I know.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry. I’m being an ass.”

“At least you recognize it.”

“I just…I was not expecting this. But you do have a very…adventurous personality.”

“I hate you,” I growled.

“Not that adventurous, huh?” Casteel laughed again. “Look, I know you’re not looking for this marriage to go beyond the necessary,” he said, and that strange, stupid ache in my chest pulsed. “So, it’s not even something you need to worry about. But the Joining is meant to strengthen the bond that’s already there, and ensure that the partner is also a part of that bond. It’s not done lightly, and again, it is not always a sexual thing. I know it’s been done where everyone kept their body parts to themselves.”

My brows lifted. “Then why did Alastir make it sound like it was a…”

“A dirty thing?” He grinned. “Because he’s old and overdramatic and thinks he’s being helpful.”

“Why—?” I cut myself off before I could ask why he’d never brought it up. I already knew why. Just like I knew why he hadn’t told me about Spessa’s End.

“What?”

I shook my head, changing the subject. “Alastir said he was Malec’s bonded wolven.”

“That he was. Did he tell you he told my mother that Malec had Ascended Isbeth?” When I nodded, Casteel let his head fall back. “Alastir broke his oath, severing his bond. That has…well, that has rarely happened. Alastir can sometimes say too much, but he’s a good man.”

I nodded slowly, watching him as he closed his eyes. “Your mother didn’t leave him then?”

“No.”

“Did she stay with him because she loved him?”

“You know, I really don’t know. She doesn’t talk about him, but you have to wonder given she named her first son a name so similar,” he said. I wondered how their father felt about that. “When my mother confronted Malec, she did so privately, but what he’d done still got out. And others followed suit. In a way, it all happened so quickly.”

“And here we are,” I murmured.

“Here we are,” he confirmed.

Drawing in a deep breath, I said what needed to be said. “I know you need to feed. I know you’re close to the edge, and you haven’t fed from anyone else.”

“Someone has been talking,” he replied flatly. “And I doubt it was Alastir.”

“Someone needed to. What happens if you don’t feed, other than the black eyes? If you do tip over the edge?” I asked. “You never really explained beyond it being a very bad thing.”

He looked away, dragging his lip between his teeth. “It’s like being…dead inside, worse than an Ascended. We fall into bloodlust, but it’s a violent madness, like that of a Craven. But we don’t decay or rot.” He shook his head. “Once we tip over the edge, we grow stronger with each feeding, but it’s like a disease of the mind because we become nothing more than rabid animals. Very few come back from that.”

I remembered what he said the Ascended did to him—withheld blood until he was ravenous. “Did the Ascended withhold blood from you often?”

“There’d be years when they kept me well fed.” The twist of his lips was a mockery of a smile. “Then they’d give me enough so I didn’t die, and sometimes, that wasn’t enough.”

Years.

Sorrow gripped my heart—for him, for his brother, and any other who was going through that. But mostly for Casteel because he knew exactly what his brother was facing. “But you came back.”

“There were times when I didn’t think I would, Poppy.” He stared into the flames, his voice barely audible. “When I forgot how much time had passed. When I forgot who I was and what mattered to me. It was like parts of my brain had turned dark.” He dragged a hand through his hair and then dropped it to his knee. “But I came back. Not the same. Never the same. But I found parts of who I used to be.”

I swallowed against the knot in my throat. “I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” He cut me a sharp look that would’ve stung my feelings before, but I understood it—understood him. Sympathy wasn’t always wanted. “You did nothing you should apologize for.”

“You’re right. I was going to say I’m glad you found yourself.”


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