A Soul of Ash and Blood (Blood And Ash Series Book 5)
A Soul of Ash and Blood: Chapter 75

“I really thought you were going to stab me again after I announced my plans to marry you,” I said, grinning as I lay beside Poppy.

The lamplit chamber was quiet as I talked, the surprisingly cool breeze stirring the curtains of the open windows. Word had arrived that my father was a few hours out from Carsodonia, and Kieran had left to ensure that his arrival didn’t ignite any unrest in the still-calm capital. I’d sent Delano with him, knowing that Perry would want to see him. It had taken some urging, but Delano finally relented.

I was actually…relaxed. The shadows beneath Poppy’s eyes were gone. Her skin almost felt normal. That fragile hope had grown, but it wasn’t the only reason I felt at ease.

Poppy would wake soon.

I couldn’t answer how I was certain of that, other than the knowledge, the sense, coming to me through the bond. Soon, those beautiful eyes would open, and she would know herself. I wouldn’t allow myself to believe anything else.

“So, I wasn’t at all surprised that you made a run for it. Picking a lock? Did I tell you how impressed I was? Not just with that but your utter fearlessness. Don’t get me wrong. I was also furious you’d make a run for it in the cold and with just—what was it? A supper knife?”

I could vividly recall how fiercely she’d fought me—and her desire that night and the days and weeks that followed. She hadn’t been the only one, though. I’d been in a state of denial.

I smothered a yawn as I tightened my arm around her waist. I searched my memories, looking for the moment I’d stopped pretending.

Had it been in the pantry when I stole a few kisses? Or before that, when Lord Chaney took her? I’d descended into a black rage when I saw her with those bite marks. But I hadn’t stopped pretending. Not even after that morning when I woke in bloodlust and feasted between her thighs instead of on her blood. Had it occurred when we arrived in Spessa’s End, and I saw her wonderment upon seeing the Atlantian outpost? Or had it been when I took her to the cavern?

“It wasn’t any of those moments,” I whispered. “I never pretended when it came to my want of you. From the first time in the Red Pearl to this moment, what I felt was real. It was always real because I…I’d fallen in love with you long before I realized it. I was on the edge before we even left Masadonia, and I began falling when we arrived in New Haven. By the time we made it to Spessa’s End, I knew I was in love with you.”

I swallowed, letting my eyes drift shut. In truth, the process of falling in love with Poppy had started in Masadonia. It had just taken me that time to realize I could be worthy of such an emotion after betraying her—after all I’d done. That I could allow myself to love and be loved without hesitation or conditions.

I turned my cheek, pressing a kiss to her temple, then told her about our time in Spessa’s End and how I’d felt when we talked—when we were finally honest with each other. I shared with her how it’d felt when we exchanged vows and struggled to put those emotions to words because none known did them any justice. And then I told her how stunned I’d been when we fought the Ascended in Spessa’s End and what she’d been willing to do to ensure my safety.

“There are similarities between your actions when we were surrounded and what…what Shea did. She, too, had been willing to do anything. But…” I cleared my throat. “I’ll tell you about that when you wake. What really happened.”

Kieran was right.

Poppy would understand.

It was just something I still had to come to terms with.

Kissing the spot beside her ear once more, I began telling her more. Those moments in the carriage after the battle in Spessa’s End, and then the trip to the Skotos. My eyes stayed closed through it all, and the pauses between what I said grew longer and longer until I drifted off to sleep.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d slept, but what felt like icy fingertips against the nape of my neck stirred me—a primordial warning that went deeper than the elemental instinct. It woke me at once.

There was a stale, sweet scent, and then a brief glimpse of a figure in black. Then a flash of something milky white, like polished bone, arced down.

I threw up my arm, blocking the swing before what turned out to be a really fucking sharp edge plummeted into my chest. My forearm connected with another as I jackknifed up, thrusting the assailant back.

Swinging my legs off the bed, I got a good look at the dark-haired fucker as I shot to my bare feet. I immediately knew at once what he was.

A Revenant.

And since they’d been all over the castle before thanks to the Blood Queen, they obviously didn’t need to be invited in.

The mask obscuring half his face gave what he was away. It was shaped like wings that reached to the shaggy hairline and swept down to his jaw on either side—deep gold, not red or black.

The pale-as-fuck, silver-blue eyes were a clue, too.

This had to be one of the ones Malik had said were still out there and would be a problem.

“You picked the wrong fucking chamber,” I warned, baring fangs.

“But I didn’t.” The Rev smirked. “You should’ve closed those windows.”

“Is that so?” I watched as the Rev edged to the side.

He nodded. “And perhaps been a little less arrogant in your belief that you were safe. That you won a war that hasn’t—”

“Even begun yet. I know.” Muscles coiled as my chin dipped, sending locks of hair across my forehead. “Can we skip this cliché-as-hell conversation and just get to the point where I make you wish you could die?”

The Rev’s laugh was low and as dry as bones. “How about we skip the conversation and get to the point where you die?”

I smiled. “And how are you going to do that? By talking me to death? Or with your little white knife?”

“White knife?” Another sandpaper laugh grated my skin. “This is a bone of the Ancients, you fucking idiot false Primal.”

The Rev came at me before I could even question why the fuck he’d called me that. I braced myself, my smile growing. “I always wanted to know how a Rev regrew a head. Guess I’m going to replace out because I’m going to rip yours fucking off.”

He darted to the side about a foot from me. Anticipating the move, I laughed under my breath and spun, kicking out. I caught the Rev in the stomach. He skidded back onto one knee. Our eyes locked as I straightened.

Another glimpse of white appeared—a second dagger in his other hand. One side of the Rev’s lips curled up.

The cold press of unease hit my chest as the prickle at the nape of my neck gave off a warning. I heard Vikter’s voice as if he were standing right beside me, speaking the same words he had that morning in the training yard.

All it takes is a second for your enemy to gain the upper hand.

The Rev was shockingly fast, letting one of the daggers fly.

He didn’t throw it at me.

He’d gone for Poppy.

Nothing more than the length of a heartbeat given to either arrogance or vengeance to then lose all which truly matters.

It had been an omen then. A lesson Vikter had promised me I’d learn. One I still hadn’t.

Cursing, I jumped to the side faster than I ever had, tapping in to every bit of agility and speed I had in me. My fingers curled around the blade as I snagged it from the air—

I hissed in pain, my fingers spasming open reflexively. The dagger hit the floor as I landed in a crouch. Only a thin cut crossed my palm, but it wasn’t that which caused the stingy burn. It was the blade itself. It was scalding to the touch—hot enough that the skin around the cut on my palm smoked.

“What the fuck?” I rose, twisting at the waist.

Swinging out, I grabbed the Rev’s arm, but he twisted both of us with a burst of unnatural-as-fuck strength. He thrust his right arm out, hitting me in the chest—

Red-hot agony exploded as I careened backward, short-circuiting all my senses. My back hit the wall, and then I was on my ass, staring down at the iron hilt of a dagger embedded in my chest—in the same damn spot Poppy had gotten me in New Haven. Which had been a bit more than a nick of the heart.

Blood flowed from the wound, drenching my bare stomach, but my skin—fuck, I could feel it burning, peeling back from where the blade had penetrated. That pain. Fuck. I’d never felt anything like it before. My teeth gritted as it rippled through me.

The Rev spoke quietly as he bent, picking up the fallen dagger. “Bones of the Ancients. Sharper than bloodstone. Harder than shadowstone.” One golden wing lifted with his half smile. “And deadlier than both, able to kill a god with just a prick and incapacitate a Primal.”

The fucking Rev winked and rose. “Should have closed those windows, Your Highness.” He flipped the milky-white dagger.

My gaze shot to the bed.

Poppy.

Terror was an icy shock to the system, momentarily freezing the fire in my chest. I pushed to my feet—or thought I had. My brain sent the message, but my legs didn’t move. I remained slumped against the wall as the Rev chuckled, turning to the bed. I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs—any air. I couldn’t breathe.

Get up, I ordered. Get the fuck up.

Muscles twitched but didn’t respond as the Rev approached the bed. Panic crashed into terror as my mouth opened, my throat issuing no sound.

I was frozen. Couldn’t move. Voiceless. Couldn’t yell for help. I didn’t know who was in the hall—either Emil or Naill, but the walls were thick. If they stood down a ways, they wouldn’t hear shit—

Good gods, this couldn’t be happening.

Not now.

Not when we didn’t know what it felt like to have each other when the realm was at peace. Not when we hadn’t gotten the chance to know what our love was capable of—what we could create together.

Not ever.

“What a pretty little flower,” the Rev sang softly.

For a second, the scorching pain faded, replaced by the raw horror of his words as I stared at the Rev’s back. That godsdamn rhyme—Poppy had heard it for years, actual years.

“What a powerful poppy,” he said, grabbing the thin blanket.

It started low, coming from outside of me, a low hum—no, it came from within me.

“Pick it,” he continued to sing, yanking the blanket back. “And watch it bleed.”

Get up.

Nothing moved. Not a godsdamn thing as Poppy remained asleep, her features relaxed and peaceful.

“Not so powerful any longer.” The Rev reached for Poppy, grabbing a fistful of her hair—

He touched her.

He was fucking touching her, and she was completely vulnerable. My heart shattered—it had to be shattering. She was vulnerable, and she’d promised herself she would never be that again. I’d sworn I would never allow it.

I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t.

The Rev jerked her head back, exposing the back of her skull. “He’s been waiting so, so, so long for what is his.”

Like a chasm splitting open, pure, unfettered rage exploded from deep within me, but there was…there was more. Not knowledge. I was fucking beyond that. It was instinct—ancient, powerful instinct. Primal. The hum in my ears intensified and then hit my blood. My skin buzzed as I latched on to the fury. My muscles quivered as I took all that feral rage and let it pour into me, flooding every vein and filling every cell in my body until the violence tasted like ash in my mouth and became ice in my veins.

Blood full of ash and ice…

A streak of lightning tore through the sky outside, turning night to day as my arm lifted.

The Rev’s head jerked to the window as another bolt lit up the realm, and for a moment, I swore I saw silvery cords draping the chamber—flowing from Poppy and rippling across the floor, covering my legs. My body. The Rev’s head tilted.

A rumble started in my chest as I willed my fingers around the red-hot hilt. My arm moved, jerking the dagger free. Air poured into my lungs as I shifted sideways. The dagger fell and clattered—

Power, ancient and unyielding, flooded my senses as my hand slammed into the floor. And then it seized control of my body.

Tiny specks of silver appeared along my flesh, filling every pore. My lips peeled back as my jaw popped out of its socket. Canines jutted out. My palms roughened as my fingers spread out, fingernails growing and thickening, sharpening, digging into the stone floor. The linen pants split at the thighs as bones throughout my body shifted, breaking at joints and then rapidly fusing back together, lengthening and hardening. The cloth fell away as my back bowed. I could feel my skin thinning, moving. From the silvery-lit pores, fur sprouted—glossy, onyx-and-gold-hued fur. I pushed back onto my knees, then rose to my hands and feet—no, my paws. It had only taken seconds. A stuttered handful of heartbeats. And I was still me, but not.

I was something else.

I rose onto all fours, shaking myself as the sound of the Rev’s fast breaths echoed in my head. His stale-sweet scent reached me, tinged in…fear. I smelled his fear. Something in my peripheral vision snagged my attention—a reflection in a standing mirror propped against the wall. A large black and gold feline with a shoulder height of over five feet and nearly double the length—and eyes a luminous silver.

That rumble came again from my chest as I turned my head to the Rev.

Pale blue eyes were wide behind the golden mask. “Impossible.”

There was no thought, no need to figure out how to get these much larger limbs and body to move. It was more than just an instinct that took over. It was a long-buried knowledge that had been waiting for decades, maybe centuries, to be awakened and tapped into.

I leapt, clearing the distance between us as the Rev jabbed out with the dagger. My reflexes, already fast, were now sharper. I caught his arm, clamping down with my jaws. Skin gave way like fragile silk. Hot, strange-tasting blood poured into my mouth. Bones cracked as if they were nothing more than twigs.

The man howled as I twisted my head, tearing through tissue. I yanked him away from the bed, the dagger falling from his grasp. He fell back, away from me. I spat the lower half of his arm onto the floor.

“Fuck,” he rasped, lurching for a fallen dagger.

Powerful, sleek muscles coiled and stretched as he darted to my side, attempting to go around me. I swiped out with a clawed paw, slicing through his leg. His shout of pain turned into a grunt as I latched onto his calf with my canines, dragging him across the floor. With my hold on his muscle, I lifted him and flung him aside. Blood spurted as his leg came off from the knee down.

He skidded across the floor, slamming into the wall. His head jerked up as he rolled onto one knee. I stalked him, a low hiss coming from the back of my throat as he half-crawled, half-slid.

I let him get close enough that his fingers brushed what he sought, then I pounced. Driving him onto his back, I dug my claws into his chest, his thighs, shredding skin and muscle.

I was brutal, clawing through his chest until the cavity gave way beneath me. Savage satisfaction filled me. Then I moved onto his shoulders, ripping apart the tendons, removing what was left of his arms and legs as his screams turned to pitiful whimpers.

Lifting my blood-soaked head, I prowled up his writhing form as I brought my face to his. His mouth opened, revealing blood-streaked teeth—

I snapped down on his throat, twisting my head back and forth sharply, snapping the neck and then severing it.

Spitting the bad-tasting blood from my mouth, I brought one paw down on the Rev’s skull, crushing it as I stepped over the remains, scanning the chamber.

Every part of my being focused on the female asleep on the bed, one arm at her side, the other lying across her stomach. Her head was turned toward me, leaving a waterfall of crimson hair to trail over the side of the bed.

She was…important.

My claws rapped off the floor as I prowled toward her, stretching forward. Her scent. My muzzle drew close to her still arm. Whiskers twitched. Fresh. Sweet. Mine. I turned my head, nudging her hand. She was mine. My Princess…

My heartmate.

My Queen.

Mine.

And I was hers.

My head swung toward the chamber doors. Footsteps pounded. A raspy, guttural snarl reverberated from me as I lowered my head, tensing.

The doors flew open, and a panting, brown-skinned male entered—one who smelled of rich, dark soil and us. Of her. His ultra-bright-blue gaze found Poppy first and then me.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, taking a step forward.

I leapt onto the bed, crouching over her. I gave a warning growl.

The male went completely still, then threw up a hand—

Another skidded to a stop behind him, sword in hand and auburn hair windblown. “Is that…is that a fucking cave cat? A really large, strangely colored one?”

“That’s Cas,” the male said—the one who smelled of the woods and her. He smelled of us. Mine.

My eyes narrowed on the newcomer as my lips peeled back. He didn’t smell of us.

“What the fuck?” that one gasped, making another choking sound as he saw the blood and pieces scattered across the floor. “I mean, what in the actual fuck?”

I eased down to the foot of the bed, my claws scratching the polished wood. He was not us. He was a risk.

“No, he’s not,” the male said. “Emil is annoying as fuck.”

The one called Emil frowned.

“But he is not a risk,” the male continued. “He is one of us.”

He was not one of us. He was not mine. He was nothing but meat and blood. A meal.

“Meat and blood—oh, fuck,” the male said. “Emil’s more than that. He is yours, too.” He paused while this other thing’s entire face creased. “Just not in the same way.”

“Okay,” the soon-to-be dead one drawled. “I’m going to say it one more time. What in the actual fuckity fuck?”

I came down onto the stone floor, my tail swishing as I eyed the pile of talking meat.

“Fuck.” The blue-eyed male twisted at the waist, pushing the meat aside. “Keep his father and the others away,” he ordered.

Father?

Something stirred in the back of my thoughts.

“Tie them up. Knock them out,” the male demanded. “I don’t care what you have to do but keep them the fuck away from here.”

The meat sack didn’t get a chance to respond. The door was closed in his face and locked. The first male faced me.

“Cas?” he said, voice soft.

My head tilted. The name stirred something inside me. Cas.

“The name is familiar because it’s yours.” He slowly lowered himself and knelt before me. “Your name is Casteel Hawkethrone Da’Neer, and I’m Kieran Contou.”

Wisps of memories drifted from the recesses of my mind. Flashes of him much younger—of us as boys and then men.

Kieran glanced to where she slept. “And that is—”

Mine.

One side of Kieran’s lips tipped up. “Yeah, she’s yours, but depending on her mood, she may not be all that thrilled to hear you continuously snarling that.”

My eyes narrowed as I backed up so my head was level with her arm.

He took a deep breath. “I’m guessing by the state of the chamber, someone attempted to attack her, and it didn’t end well for them.” His blue eyes drifted over me. “And it changed you.” A bit of awe crept into his voice. “Holy fuck, you shifted.”

I… I had. Because this wasn’t my normal…existence. I didn’t see the spotted gold and black fur but a male with golden-bronze skin and dark hair.

“Cas?”

My attention swung back to him. He’d inched closer, on one knee now.

“Do you remember when we were boys, and I first shifted after being in my mortal form for a while? I had trouble separating myself from the wolf, but you were there. You helped remind me who I was,” he said, voice low and soothing as more disjointed images flashed and collided, building atop one another. “I know it can be difficult to pull yourself out of this, but you’re still in there, and I’m going to need you to come back to me as Cas.” His gaze held mine. “She needs you to come back as Cas.”

Kieran.

She.

Penellaphe.

Poppy.

My Queen.

She needed me.

At once, my sense of self came roaring back, clicking into place beside this new part of me, fusing. I took a step forward, then stopped as I shook my fur out.

“You just will it,” Kieran explained. “Like you would a compulsion. You will your body back into its mortal form. That’s how it works.”

I widened my stance. Like a compulsion? I tapped into the eather like I would for a compulsion, doing as Kieran instructed. I willed myself into mortal form, but the rush of power came at me faster and harder than ever before. Silvery specks of light appeared, seeping out of my pores and washing over me. The shift happened much more fluidly. Bones in my arms and chest shrank, muscles and tendons loosening to allow room for them to snap back into place. Canines retreated as my jaw reformed. I rocked back on instinct, my paws changing into feet. I rose, a little unsteady, as flesh replaced fur. I straightened, cracking my back as my ribs settled.

“Gods,” I bit out, throat scratchy as I watched my nails retract and my hands return to normal. “I thought you said shifting doesn’t hurt.”

A shaky laugh of relief left Kieran as he rose. “The very first time can be a bitch, but it gets easier—more comfortable each time.” He blinked several times. “Then it doesn’t hurt.”

“Good to know.” There was still a…a distinctive purr to the tenor of my voice as I looked down at my chest. I was fucking drenched in blood, but most of it was the Rev’s. The wound in my chest had closed, leaving behind a puckered line of almost charred skin.

I looked up at Kieran. “I think I was about to eat Emil.”

The skin crinkled at the corners of his eyes as he laughed again. “Yeah, you were definitely thinking that.”

Fucking Emil.

“What in the hell happened in here?” Kieran asked, moving to stand in front of me. He touched the skin under the wound. “What is this?”

“A Rev came in through the window while I was sleeping. I woke just as he was about to—” My hand fisted as I confirmed that Poppy was okay. She was alive, and she wasn’t vulnerable. “He got me in the chest with this dagger.”

I bent, picking up the one nearest me. “Get the other.”

Kieran went to where the other one had fallen near a few scattered Rev pieces. “What kind of blade is this?” he asked, eyeing the milky-white stone. “It looks like the same kind that fucker Callum used to curse me.”

“It does.” I frowned. “This Rev said it was made of the bones of the Ancients and that it could incapacitate a Primal.”

Kieran’s stare shot to Poppy. “Ancients? Like the Primals?”

“I don’t know, but it did fuck me up. I couldn’t move. It was like the blade severed all control of my body the moment it penetrated my skin,” I said. “I couldn’t move until this…this power filled me. I’ve never felt anything like it. It tasted like ash and felt like ice in my veins.” I swallowed, wiping the blood from my chin with my other hand. “Then I was able to move. I pulled the dagger out, and I don’t even know how, but I…I shifted.”

Kieran came forward, his gaze searching mine. “When you shifted back to your normal self, it looked just like her father when he shifted.” He looked down at Poppy, and when he spoke again, he sounded awed. “It has to be the bond forged during the Joining. It connected the three of us, somehow giving you the ability to shift like me.” His brows knitted. “But then wouldn’t you have shifted into a wolven?”

“No.” I started to reach down and touch Poppy but stopped when I saw the blood and gore smearing my hand. “Her father shifts into a cave cat. My ability to shift might’ve come through the connection with you, but it was her eather. That’s what I felt. Primal eather,” I said, but it had felt like more. Like it had been something inside me, always there. Waiting. But that made no sense. “I bet that was what Nektas was referencing.”

“Makes sense,” Kieran murmured. He was quiet for a moment, and then his gaze shot to mine. “Then wouldn’t that mean Poppy can shift…?”

A slow grin spread across my lips. “She’s going to be so excited when she realizes that.”

Kieran laughed. “Yeah, she will.” Another laugh left him. “Gods, you two are going to be obnoxious with your abilities to shift.”

“You can count on it.” Something occurred to me as Kieran disappeared into the bathing chamber and returned with a towel. I took it, quickly wiping away as much blood as possible. I turned, picking up a pair of breeches from a nearby chest. There wasn’t time to clean up. “You heard my thoughts, didn’t you?”

Kieran nodded as I pulled the pants up. “You heard mine, too. After Emil left, I wasn’t speaking out loud.”

Surprise rippled through me. I wanted to see if that was something we could do in this form or if it was like what Poppy could do with the wolven. I wanted to know if this bond had changed Kieran somehow. There were a whole lot of things I wanted to know—that I wanted to sit down and dwell on for a bit. Because I’d just shifted into a godsdamn spotted cave cat, but there were more important things that needed to be handled.

Starting with the current mess that was the chamber.

I didn’t want Poppy to wake up to whatever horror show a Revenant regenerating themselves from pieces would end up being.

“I don’t know how the fucker is going to come back from this,” I said. “And it might be a good idea to see if we can replace Millicent to ask about that, but I’m guessing we should gather up the pieces and put them in one of the cells below.”

Kieran’s lip curled. “How about we just toss them into the sea? Or burn them?”

“I would love to, but I need him alive.”

“Is that up for discussion?”

“He was saying the messed-up rhyme—fucking singing it. And the Rev said he had been waiting a long time for what was his. I know he was speaking of Kolis and…” Anger tightened my gut. “And Poppy.”

Tension poured into Kieran’s jaw. “Absolutely fucking—”

A rumble came from below, rattling the floors and walls. Something toppled over in the bathing chamber as Kieran’s gaze flew to mine. “That can’t be another god waking up.”

I didn’t think it was.

The back of my neck prickled as a sudden charge of power hit the air, raising the hairs all over my arms. Kieran’s. too.

The sound of stone cracking came from the floor. A thin fracture appeared on Kieran’s other side, rapidly spreading in a circle around us—around the bed. Another fissure appeared on the floor at the foot of the bed, at the head, and along both sides.

Kieran stepped back as another shallow rift cut through the floor beneath the bed. “What the—?”

Silvery light sparked, racing across the ruptures in the stone. Moonlight pulsed and held, revealing the shape of a circle with an overlapping, pointed cross in the center. A symbol in old Atlantian—no, it was two symbols. The circle and the line through the center were life. The one from the top represented death.

Life and Death.

Blood and Bone.

The intense bright light faded, and the rumbling stopped. We both turned to Poppy.

A glow appeared beneath her flesh, lighting up the delicate network of veins throughout her entire body with…with eather.

“My gods,” Kieran whispered.

I swayed, hope and fear I’d kept in check since she went into stasis crashing together.

Poppy would know herself.

She would recognize us.

I said that over and over like a prayer to the gods I knew no longer slept. “Please,” I whispered, voice cracking.

The light in her veins faded. A streak of silver appeared, and then shadows gathered like pulsing storm clouds beneath her flesh. They slid together down her chest, over her arms and legs, a kaleidoscope of light and darkness—the power of life and death reaching her fingertips.

Poppy’s fingers twitched.

I dropped to my fucking knees beside the bed, went right down on them as Kieran lurched forward, planting his palms on the bed. Time seemed to slow to an infinite crawl, every second passing too quickly yet not fast enough as the powers whirled together beneath her skin.

Her arm spasmed. A knee bent slightly. Her toes wiggled, then stretched.

I picked up her hand and shuddered like a godsdamn leaf. “Her skin is warm. See?”

Kieran folded his hand over ours. “It is,” he exhaled roughly.

I felt fucking weak with giddy relief as her left arm jerked. Then her chest rose with a deep breath, and I swore to the gods ours did the exact same thing. Her brows tensed. Eyelids twitched. Lush, rosy lips parted, and then the eather slowed under her flesh, slowly disappearing. She inhaled deeply, and it was the most beautiful sound.

“Poppy,” I whispered, pitching forward. Her hand squeezed mine, and Kieran squeezed both of ours. I felt dampness gathering in my eyes. She was going to open those lids and know herself. She would recognize—

Thick lashes fluttered, lifting to reveal eyes that held no trace of dewy green. Eyes that weren’t even those of a god. They were the pure molten silver of churning eather as they locked with mine. They were the eyes of not just a Primal.

But the Primal of Life and Death.

Of Blood and Bone.