The War of Two Queens (Blood and Ash 4)

“Maybe you should tell your wife why her sister would take such a risk,” Malik countered.

“Are they going to fight?” Reaver murmured.

“Looks like it,” Kieran answered, glancing at him. “It wouldn’t be entirely abnormal if so.”

My heart had started pounding again. “What did she say?”

“I was going to tell you,” Casteel growled, his anger stroking my skin. “But it’s nothing worth repeating.”

Malik raised his brows. “Maybe it’s you who’s living in denial. Can’t blame you for it. I wouldn’t want to believe it either.”

“Believe what?” I grabbed Casteel’s arm, stopping him as he took another step forward. “What did she tell you?”

His eyes swung to me, but he said nothing. My senses stretched out, coming up against a wall. Air snagged in my throat. He was blocking me, and that could only mean—

“You were created for the same reason that Millie was. For one purpose,” Malik said. “Your sister failed her Ascension. You didn’t. And you already said what that purpose is. Except you’re focusing just on Atlantia, and it’s so much bigger than that. Your purpose is to—”

“Remake the kingdoms,” I cut in. “The realms. I know. I’ve heard that.”

Malik shook his head. “Your purpose is to destroy the realms. Mortal and Iliseeum. That’s how she plans to remake them.”

“That sounds a bit excessive,” muttered Reaver.

I drew back. Isbeth had said that she wanted to see Atlantia burn. But this…this was not the same. It was entirely something else. It sounded a lot like…

Beware, for the end will come from the west to destroy the east and lay waste to all which lies between.

Stomach dipping, I inhaled sharply.

The prophecy—what had it said? That the first and second daughters would remake the realms and usher in the end. No. Just because it had been written didn’t mean it would happen. What Isbeth wanted didn’t matter for a slew of reasons. “First off, I’m not even powerful enough to do something like that.”

Malik leaned forward, “First off, you aren’t powerful enough yet to do that. You haven’t completed your Culling. Then, you will be.”

“Powerful enough to destroy the realms?” I laughed. “A god isn’t that powerful.”

“I don’t think that’s what you are,” Casteel said.

Slowly, I turned to him. “Come again?”

“It’s something I figured out a bit ago,” he told me. “I don’t fully understand or know how it’s possible, but I don’t think you’re a god.”

“Then what the hell am I?” I threw up my hands.

“A Primal,” Malik announced.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on.”

“He speaks the truth,” Reaver announced, and we all turned to him. “Both of them. You’re a Primal—born of mortal flesh.”

Chapter 35

A dull roar filled my ears. My hand fell from Casteel’s arm. Born of mortal flesh, a great primal power…

“At first, I thought you knew this,” Reaver continued, drawing me from my thoughts. “You were able to summon us. You held the Primal notam, but then I realized you knew so very little about, well, anything.”

I snapped my mouth shut.

“And you didn’t think to tell her?” Casteel asked. “Once you realized she didn’t know?”

The draken shrugged.

Casteel straightened to his full height. While my emotions were too all over the place, his anger was red-hot. “Did you just shrug?”

“Yes, he did.” Kieran glared at the draken. “If you’d been around him longer, that wouldn’t have surprised you.”

“Look, I figured she was already dealing with enough,” the draken reasoned. “Whether she knew or not, wouldn’t have changed anything. She’d already survived the beginning of the Culling. There’s no danger to her or risk to her completing the Ascension as this point.”

“I don’t even know what to say.” I blinked rapidly. “You could’ve told me so that I was prepared. So I wouldn’t learn this on the same day I learned I had a sister. Or when I—”

“Sounds like you know what to say,” Reaver interrupted dryly. “And you haven’t finished your Culling. So, congratulations. You’ll be prepared.”

“You are the worst,” I whispered, suddenly remembering something he’d said about the draken knowing what my will was. It has always been that way with the Primals. And when I’d said I wasn’t a Primal, he hadn’t agreed. Come to think of it, I didn’t think he’d ever referred to me as a god, either.

“Wait a minute. Why would the notam have been an indicator that she was a Primal?” Kieran asked. “The gods have the notam.”

“Why would you think that?” Reaver frowned. “It’s a Primal notam. Not a god notam. Only a Primal can form any type of notam—a bond such as that.”

“Because that’s—” Kieran cursed. “I don’t think anyone really knew. We just assumed it was connected to the gods.”

“You assumed wrong,” Reaver stated flatly.

Out of the chaos that was my mind, something suddenly made sense. “That’s why Malec never had the notam.” I turned to Casteel and then Kieran. “I thought it was because of his weakening powers, but he wasn’t a Primal.” My head swung back to Reaver. “That’s why you said I would be more powerful than my father. Why I wouldn’t have to feed as often. And the mist? I didn’t summon it, did I?”