The Primal of Blood and Bone (Blood and Ash #6) Read Online Jennifer L. Armentrout

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Blood And Ash Series by Jennifer L. Armentrout
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Total pages in book: 401
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
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“You can’t keep avoiding him,” Malik said.

I couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh. “That’s rich coming from you.”

His features locked down, but I could tell my remark had struck a nerve. Not because I knew him so well—I couldn’t say that about my brother anymore—but because I tasted his emotion, the acidic anger.

“I wasn’t avoiding my family,” Malik stated. “Not in the way you’re insinuating.”

“That’s not what I was saying.”

The burn of his anger turned icy. “Bullshit.”

“It’s not.” Swallowing a curse, I rubbed at my chest. “I was more so thinking about how you would avoid Father when it came time for your royal lessons.”

Malik’s narrowed gaze remained on me for a moment, and then he looked down. His anger had faded, but I could tell he didn’t entirely believe me. I was speaking the truth.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want the responsibility.”

“I know.” And I did. “It was just that you were exceptionally skilled at not being where you were supposed to be.”

A slight curl of his lips formed. “Meanwhile, you were always where you were supposed to be and then some.” He brushed a strand of light-brown hair back from his face. “Times sure have changed.”

That they had.

He hadn’t been able to sit still for any real length of time, always surrounded himself with others, and was known for being a notorious prankster. While being holed up in a room with Father or Alastir drove him mad, Malik had wanted to rule when his time came. I, on the other hand, had been reserved, rather studious, and often on the receiving end of his pranks. Ruling had never appealed to me. My interests geared more toward agriculture and architecture. We were opposites. My brother had been born a leader, and I a warrior.

But we were entirely different people back then. Mostly. That realization didn’t settle like lead in my chest like it used to. My eyes strayed to the bedchamber, and I knew why it no longer affected me so deeply. All the changes I’d gone through had led me to Poppy.

I faced my brother and took a deep breath. “Have you been feeding?”

His brows pulled together. “Yes.”

“You’re lying.”

“Have you been feeding?” he fired back.

“I haven’t needed to,” I replied, crossing my arms as surprise flickered across his face. “But you clearly haven’t.”

A muscle twitched in his temple, and Attes’s image flashed in my mind. “I didn’t come here to talk to you about my feeding habits.”

“Why did you come?”

“Two things,” he answered. “We finally finished searching the Shadow Temple.”

One of the first things I’d ordered was for one of our generals and their guards to watch the Shadow Temple, figuring that was where a Primal of Death would go. So far, there was no sign of him.

Malik reached inside the inner pocket of his tunic and pulled out a slip of folded parchment, offering it to me. “And we received a message from Pensdurth.”

Before I even took the letter, I knew I wouldn’t like what I read. The metallic scent clinging to the fine rag paper made from linen told me as much.

Blood.

Stale, dried blood.

CHAPTER 8

CASTEEL

My anger and disgust grew as I unfolded the parchment and quickly read the words scrawled in thick, rusty crimson.

The message wasn’t long or addressed to anyone in particular.

It didn’t need to be.

Your claim to Solis is as tainted as the bloodline that bore you. Our allegiance is forever pledged to the one true King of all the realms. For he has risen, and all those who stand against him and the Blood Crown will fall.

My fingers crumpling the edges of the parchment, I looked down at the signature of the jackass claiming dukedom over Pensdurth. “Eldric Ashwood,” I murmured. “Sounds like the name of an asshole if I ever heard one.”

Malik snorted.

My gaze flicked to him. “I assume you read this.”

He nodded.

I reread the first sentence. “I see Isbeth never stopped with that tainted-bloodline bullshit.”

“No, she didn’t. It was one of her favorite phrases.”

A muscle ticked in my jaw. “Are you familiar with this Ashwood?”

“Familiar enough,” Malik said. “Only a handful of Ascended were a part of Isbeth’s inner circle. Eldric was…” Malik trailed off and looked away briefly. The tart taste of unease formed. “He was one of those Isbeth sent away shortly before we left for Oak Ambler.”

“Why was he sent to Pensdurth? Wasn’t there already a Duke overseeing the city?”

“There was—or is. Goffry Beric.”

I watched him closely. “You didn’t know why he was sent there? Or where the others were sent?”

“Not until this letter showed,” he answered. “Like you, I figured she was sending them to secure the other cities or to back up those already in ruling positions there. But I couldn’t be sure.”

Since the letter came from Ashwood instead of Beric, it seemed to me that Beric was no longer in charge of Pensdurth.


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