Page 12 of Born of Blood and Ash

Do not allow this to leave a mark.

Ash… He had said that when he realized I wanted to deliverthe final blow to Tavius. Ash, a Primal of Death, had granted my request.

I’d gotten my revenge, right or wrong. I had it. Reveled init because Tavius was a bad man. He had it coming, and my hands had deliveredit.

“Prove yourself,” Polemus ordered.“And slay the monster.”

My heart thundered. I’d already slain this particularmonster.

“Prove yourself.” Loimus’s whisperwas a stale wind against my skin. “And slay the monster.”

I’d done as promised: I’d sliced the hands from his body.While I hadn’t carved his heart from his chest or set him on fire as I’dwanted, I had done enough. I’d made him pay, and it had not marked me because…

I was a monster. Like Tavius, just of a different sort.

Panting, I held the sword tighter. If one of the ridersspoke, I could no longer hear them over the rushing of my thoughts: Was thisright? Did he deserve a final death? Could I even make that choice when it cameto him? Should I?

I blinked, my stomach churning. “I…”

“Prove yourself,” Peinea urged.

“I can’t,” I said hoarsely. “It is not my place.”

“You are the true Primal of Life,” Polemusresponded. “You may not rule the realm of the dead, but your will supersedesall.”

My gaze cut to the shrouded riders.

“You are the Agna Udexand the Agna Adice,” Peineasaid.

The Great Ruler.

The Great Condemner.

Robes stirred around Loimus. “Itis your right, as you rule all. You hold within your hands the ability toreward and to condemn.”

Dryness coated my mouth. My arm shook as my attentionshifted back to Tavius.

“You did not hesitate before when you were in no position totake a life,” Polemus said. “Why hesitate now whenyou bear the Crown of Crowns?”

That was a good question. It had been wrong then, and I’ddone it without hesitation. I’d done it so many times, not really carrying anylasting guilt. Not even when I learned that by restoring the life of onemortal, I’d ended another’s. Ash had said it was the influence of the Primalembers. Maybe he was right. Primals weren’t meant tofeel the way mortals do, not when it came to love and hate or life and death.Perhaps it was how I was raised—taught to become nothing. To feel nothing. Itcould’ve been the knowledge that I was nothing more than a sacrifice, a meansto an end, that had sat side by side with me from the time I was old enough tounderstand my duty. Perhaps it was all those things that made me a monster of adifferent sort.

I didn’t want to be that.

I never had.

But it was a choice. I knew that. Because Ash had carriedthat blood-soaked guilt deeper and longer than I had. Others were raised as Iwas, and some experienced worse conditions: being abused, neglected, orforgotten. Yet they were incapable of such terrible things.

I didn’t want to be capable of such terrible things.

So, I made the choice not to be.

I would not be a monster.

“I will not condemn him.” Staring at Tavius, I forced mygrip to relax. The hilt slipped from my grasp, and the sword clanged againstthe floor. Murmurs came from the riders’ direction, but something happenedbefore I could look at them.

Tavius shuddered, and then he was…gone. There was nothingbut empty space where he’d lain. The sword vanished in the next instant, and Istumbled back.

The horses each bent one bony knee, and all three of themlowered themselves. The riders’ shrouded heads bowed, just as they had beforeon the road to the Vale.

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