Born of Blood and Ash (Flesh and Fire #4) Read Online Jennifer L. Armentrout

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Flesh and Fire Series by Jennifer L. Armentrout
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 362
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
<<<<193203211212213214215223233>362
Advertisement


And I was right.

The sound of voices picked up as I entered the palace’s right wing, where the doors to the various, mostly unused chambers were closed. I kept going, reaching another branch in the hall, one where one path led outside and the other to a narrower hall with fewer but larger spaces. They had been completely empty when I’d explored the palace with Jadis and Reaver.

I went down the hall, my fingers digging into the soft velvet of my robe. Halfway down, I saw that two doors were open. I picked up my pace, the eather buzzing hotly through my veins. I jerked to a halt when I stepped into the dull light spilling out of the chamber.

I took in the horror of the space. Gods were extraordinarily hard to kill, given only a handful of things could kill them—shadowstone to the heart or the head, a blast of eather from a stronger god or Primal, draken fire.

And massive bodily damage inflicted by any creature created by the Ancients.

The dakkais and sekya were only two of them. The knowledge I’d gained during my Ascension warned me there were more—truly nightmarish things. But gods weren’t infallible.

And this room was proof of that.

The large chamber had quickly been converted into an infirmary. Those wounded from the attack were laid out on thin cots—about a dozen of them. Most of the injured were unconscious. Moans came from those who weren’t as Aios hurried between the cots, her arms full of bandages. She wasn’t alone. A tall man with a large brown satchel was crouched beside one of the unconscious guards. I needed no introduction to recognize the light-yellowish-brown-skinned man as Kye, the Healer.

Aios had likely already been here with Bele. I had no idea how the Healer had gotten here so quickly, but I was grateful to see him.

I fully entered the chamber, my attention shifting to a guard lying just beyond the doors. She wasn’t awake, but her features were still contorted in pain.

I recognized her.

It was the guard with the pretty name.

Iridessa.

Beside her shredded tunic, a pile of blood-soaked linens lay on the floor, and bright, shimmering blue-tinged red already stained the bandage across her chest.

Iridessa was alive—but barely. And I doubted whatever vial Kye had pulled from his satchel while he assisted another could reverse the damage of the sekya’s claws.

A faint series of tingles erupted behind my left ear as I knelt at Iridessa’s side, careful to avoid the mess on the floor. Like with the guard on the Rise, knowledge of her filled my thoughts.

She was a fighter. A goddess who’d originally served Hanan, having defected from his Court a few years back after guards sworn to protect the people of Sirta slaughtered her family. She was young compared to the others. Younger than even Ash. She’d seen a hard century of life.

Lifting my hand, I placed my palm on her uncovered shoulder. Her skin was damp beneath mine as I closed my eyes. Summoning the essence, I felt it rush to the surface. It came to me easier when used for this than it did when using it as a weapon or to move objects. I didn’t really have to think much about it as I channeled the energy into the goddess. Sekya talons had punctured her lungs, her left arm was broken, and several vertebrae were cracked. The essence repaired those injuries.

The reason this was easier didn’t really occur to me until Iridessa’s brow smoothed out and her breathing deepened. The eather was designed to protect life. To heal. And that had shaped Eythos and even Ash before the embers were removed from him. It wasn’t as strong as in his father, but the essence of life had played a role in who they each were at the very core of their being. Because it belonged to them. And that was why Eythos could forgive his brother. Why Ash felt each and every death so deeply.

Aware that my presence had gained attention, I rose and moved to the cot of another unconscious guard. Something else occurred to me. It was also why I hadn’t slain the monster while with the riders.

Using the eather to heal or restore life was natural to me only because it was natural to the energy itself. But it hadn’t shaped my nature.

Only I could.

If I could.

As I healed the guard beside Iridessa, I thought about what Odetta had said to me. That I had been touched by both life and death. Really, it was Sotoria’s soul that had been touched by death.

Time blurred as I healed the injuries of several more guards. While doing that, I felt Ash’s presence. He watched me as intently as one of Attes’s silver hawks. He didn’t try to stop me, simply gave me space as I moved from one cot to the next. Neither did Kye or Aios, the former flushing pinker each time I drew closer to him. When Rhahar arrived, I heard him informing Ash that the sekya hadn’t headed toward Lethe. That brought me some relief.



<<<<193203211212213214215223233>362

Advertisement