The War of Two Queens (Blood and Ash #4) Read Online Jennifer L. Armentrout

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires, Young Adult Tags Authors: Series: Blood And Ash Series by Jennifer L. Armentrout
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Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 247882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1239(@200wpm)___ 992(@250wpm)___ 826(@300wpm)
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“Don’t punch your father, Casteel.”

A faint grin appeared as he moved on to his other boot. “Is that an order, my Queen?”

“It really shouldn’t have to be one.”

“But?”

“Yes.”

He leaned over, stealing a quick kiss. “Kieran will be with me. He won’t let me punch him.”

Thinking of how Kieran had let Casteel repeatedly punch his brother, I wasn’t so sure about that.

“Meet you in the receiving hall?” Casteel touched my cheek. I nodded, and this kiss…it was long enough to leave me wishing we had more time.

After Casteel had left, I braided my hair and rose, putting on similar attire as he had dressed in. The leggings were almost as thick as breeches, and I tucked the black shirt into them, opting for a vest brocaded in gold to wear over it. Strapping the wolven-bone dagger to my thigh, I smiled as I thought about how ill-fitting Isbeth would believe the clothing to be for a Queen. I didn’t don any armor or remove the crowns from their box. That would come later. Leaving the chamber, I made a quick stop in the kitchens, grabbing a muffin, and then roamed outside, giving Casteel ample time to speak to his father.

I caught sight of Thad perched on the Rise that overlooked the stables, his wings tucked close to his narrow, brownish-black body. I followed his watchful stare, my heart skipping.

Finishing off the muffin, I crossed the overgrown courtyard and entered the stables. Only a few horses remained inside, as most were with the soldiers, being outfitted with armor. I stopped to give Setti a sugar cube and shower him with affection before walking to the back of the structure. Straw crunched under my feet as I reached out, holding the pole as I turned the corner.

Malec’s wooden casket remained in the wagon, ready to be led out the closed stable doors behind it. Several lengths of dull, whitish-gray bones lay across the top, and I realized that several bone spurs had embedded themselves in the wood.

Folding an arm over my waist, I suppressed a shiver. The casket. Malec’s presence. It had an impact that was hard not to notice, chilling the air. Tiny goosebumps rose all over my skin. I inched closer, holding my breath like a silly child as I reached out, pressing my palm against the casket.

The wood was warm.

I pulled my hand back, pressing it against my chest where the eather hummed, and the cold place inside me ached.

Would the wood that entombed me be cold?

I sucked in a sharp breath, unsettled by my dark thoughts. Malec’s fate wasn’t mine—

Unsheathing the dagger at the soft crunch of straw, I whipped around.

Malik stood in the hall outside the stall, his eyes wide behind a lock of sandy brown hair that had fallen in front of them. “Jumpy?”

“I’d rather call it careful,” I said, lowering the dagger but not putting it away. No one else was with him. “You’re out here alone?”

“Not supposed to be.” A half-grin appeared, one so similar to Casteel’s it was a little bizarre. “But I’m really good at being where I’m not supposed to be.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m sure Naill will realize soon enough that I’m not in my cell—er, I mean my chambers,” he amended.

I watched him draw closer. “Why are you out here?”

“Saw you heading this way from the window.” He stopped at the back of the wagon and did the same as I did, placing his hand on the casket. He showed no reaction to the temperature, which made me wonder.

“Does the wood feel warm to you?”

He shook his head. “Does it to you?”

I started to answer but shrugged. “I hope you aren’t out here trying to do something to him in an attempt to stop us.”

Malik laughed roughly. “Can’t say it hasn’t crossed my mind.”

“You’d risk Kieran like that?” I demanded, my stomach toppling because I hated—absolutely hated—the whole wait-and-see thing surrounding whether or not the Joining had usurped the curse, or if Isbeth would lift it.

“All manner of things have crossed my mind,” he answered. “But I prefer to not be burned alive by a draken.”

“That shouldn’t be the only thing that stops you.”

“No, it shouldn’t be. And it wouldn’t have been before,” he said, and I knew he meant before the Blood Queen captured him. “But I’m not the same person I was then,” he said, and the faint tang of sadness gathered in my throat.

“You’re a person who would sacrifice those who care about you now?”

His lips twisted into a mockery of a smile. “Who would you have sacrificed to free Casteel?”

“I sacrificed none,” I told him.

Malik looked at me. “You didn’t?”

I stiffened. “I will free my father.”

A long moment passed. “But you and I both know that if you had to choose, there would be no choice.” His gaze flicked to the casket. “To be honest, I’m relieved to hear that. Casteel deserves someone who will burn the realm for him.”



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