“I don’t think it sounds unreal,” Casteel said, his brows knitting. “I think anything is possible. We should definitely ask Kieran if he heard you or if he even knows if it’s possible. I know it wasn’t for us when we were bonded.”
Pressing my lips together, I nodded.
Casteel stared down at me for a moment. “You’re utterly unique, Poppy. You know that, right?”
I gave another lazy, one-shouldered shrug.
A faint smile appeared and then disappeared. “You’re safe here,” he told me as he placed the dagger beside my hand. “But just in case, if anyone comes in here, stab first and ask questions later. You should be familiar with that mentality.”
“Why does everyone act like I run around stabbing people?”
Casteel stared back at me and then looked pointedly at his chest.
“Whatever,” I muttered. “You deserved it.”
“I did.” He grinned as he placed a knee on the bed and lowered the upper half of his body over mine. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here.” I picked up the dagger. “Hopefully, not stabbing anyone.”
The dimple in his right cheek appeared, and he dipped his head, kissing just above my brow and then lower, over the scar. “Princess?”
My lips curved up. What had started as a nickname had become a reality. “Yes?”
His mouth moved over mine. “I love you.”
The smile on my face grew as my heart did a little skip in my chest. “I love you.”
He made that rough, rumbling sound. “I will never get tired of hearing that. Say it over and over, a hundred thousand times, and it will feel like I’m hearing it for the first time.”
I tipped my head up, kissing him. He was slow to leave, but he finally did, and my tired gaze moved to the lattice doors. Night had fallen outside, and I strained to hear what had been so obvious to Casteel. I heard nothing but the low hum of insects and the melody of nightbirds. My grip tightened on the cool bone handle of my dagger.
Casteel didn’t have to worry. If anyone came into this room, I would be ready.
Chapter 17
Upon his return, I figured Casteel was relieved to learn that I hadn’t needed to stab anyone.
Or maybe not.
I think he liked it when I stabbed people.
Especially him.
He’d returned with a bottle of wine and a platter of sliced meats and cubed cheeses. There were also small blocks of milk chocolate, and I might’ve shoved three chunks into my mouth all at once. I’d changed into one of Casteel’s old cream-colored tunic shirts, much like the one he wore now. He’d helped me roll up the too-long sleeves. The tunic covered more than a slip would or that indecent nightgown had. Even though there was much to discuss, the full stomach, wine, and what he’d done in that shower all worked against that. I ended up falling asleep as Casteel took the platter into the sitting room, and was only half-aware when he rejoined me in bed, curling his long body around mine and gathering me close.
I slept the kind of deep sleep where even dreams didn’t follow. I woke at some point, the gray light of dawn beginning to find its way into the room, and sleepily made use of the bathing chamber. When I returned to the bed, Casteel immediately wrapped his body around mine. I didn’t know how long I slept that time before I woke again, my eyes fluttering open to soft lamplight. Shifting under the light blanket, I brushed up against a leg.
“Good evening,” Casteel drawled.
I rolled onto my back and looked up.
Casteel was sitting propped against the headboard, dressed in black breeches and a white shirt similar to the one I wore. He was thumbing through a leather-bound book. “I took it upon myself to unpack the bags we brought with us and hang your clothing in the wardrobe. Kirha—Kieran and Netta’s mother—dropped off some additional clothing she believed would fit you and recommended a seamstress, even though I like the idea of you having limited clothing options.”
I wasn’t even remotely surprised to hear the last part. “What time is it?”
“It’s close to eight at night.” He glanced over at me. “You’ve slept for almost twenty-four hours.”
Dear gods, it’d been a long time since I’d slept that long. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize. You needed the rest. So did I,” he said. “Though I was starting to get a bit lonely over here.”
“How long have you been…?” My eyes started to narrow as I stared at the book he held. It looked awfully familiar. “What are you reading?”
“Your favorite book.” His eyes slid to mine knowingly, and I jerked upright. “You know, I have this theory about Miss Willa Colyns.”
“I can’t believe you still have that damn journal.”
“She mentions something here, in chapter twenty-three, that got me thinking.” He cleared his throat. “‘Andre was the most uninhibited of all my lovers—’”
“You do not need to read it to tell me your theory.”
“I disagree,” he replied. “‘He was quite shameless in his search of pleasure as he was with his willingness to give, but his most impressive seduction was not his manhood.’” He looked over at me. “You do remember what manhood means?”
“Yes, Casteel. I remember.”
He smirked as he returned to that damnable journal. “Where was I? Oh, yes. Something about his manhood.”
“Why do you like saying that word so much?”
“Because you like hearing it.”
“I do not.” I shoved my hair back from my face.
“Stop interrupting me. This is a very important observation,” he replied. “‘But his most impressive seduction was not his manhood. It was the dark, wicked kiss of our kind, one he was all too eager to bestow in the most scandalous locations.’”
I realized what Casteel was getting at. The dark, wicked kiss of our kind. But my mind got stuck on the bestowing the kiss in the most scandalous locations part. Casteel hadn’t bitten me in that very scandalous location in the shower, but he’d drawn blood.
“I do believe that Miss Willa was either Atlantian or of Atlantian descent. Perhaps even one of another bloodline,” he noted. “I wonder if she still lives. If so, I also wonder if she’s planning for a volume two.” He paused. “You look very flushed, Poppy. Was it the wicked bite part? Or would you like to hear more about Andre?” He glanced back at the journal. “‘While partygoers celebrated the birthday of some young lady, Andre coaxed me out into the gardens, where he and his confidant, Torro, celebrated me.’”
I bit down on the inside of my lip, words fizzling out on the tip of my tongue. They…celebrated her? They?
Casteel continued, “‘Torro took me from behind, his thick hardness already taking me to bliss while Andre knelt before me, his mouth closing over my—’”
“That’s enough.” I shot forward, snatching the book from his hands. I got the book but didn’t make it very far.
Casteel folded an arm around my waist, pinning me and the journal to his chest. “You shouldn’t have stopped me there.” His eyes warmed. “Miss Willa was in for a very exciting evening in that garden. They were about to be joined by one not-very-innocent Lady.”
“I don’t care—wait.” Curiosity got the best of me. “What? The…the four of them? Together?”
He grinned as his other hand slid down my back. “Oh, yes.” His palm glided over my rear, which had become exposed in my rush to grab the journal. He cupped the flesh, sending a shivery wave of awareness through me. “Four of them. Together. Lots of manhoods. Lots of scandalous lady parts.”
“Lady parts?” I choked on a laugh.
He nodded as he dragged the edge of his teeth over his bottom lip. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel…uncomfortably curious,” I admitted. I had questions. Like how did that even work?
Casteel’s brows flew up. His surprise was like a burst of cool wind on my skin, and then something spicy and lush landed on the tip of my tongue. “Poppy,” he purred
, his eyes deepening to a warm honey color. “I was talking about how you felt after getting some sleep.”
“Oh.” Heat swept through my entire body. Scrunching my nose, I planted my face in his chest. “I feel fine.” And embarrassed.
His laugh rumbled through me as his arms tightened. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m glad to hear both of those things.”
“Oh, my gods,” I muttered. “Please forget that I said I was curious.”
“Unlikely.”
“I dislike you.”
“That’s a lie.”
“I know.”
Another deep laugh came from him, and I smiled because I loved that sound. How deep and real it was. “We’ll talk about your uncomfortable curiosity in great detail later, but you need to get off me and change into something that makes it less easy for my manhood to find its way to your lady parts.”
I lifted my head from his chest. “You’re holding me to you.”
“True.” His arm eased off me, and I started to rise when he lightly smacked my rear. I let out a little squeak, and those damn dimples appeared in both of his cheeks.
I stared down at him. “That was very inappropriate.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” He didn’t feel even a hint of shame.
Still flushing to the roots of my hair, I started to move but stopped. Tension crept into my muscles, a contrasting mixture of reluctance and determination.
“What?” Casteel’s gaze searched mine. “What is it?”
“I…” It was hard to explain what I felt. It was a mixture of several things. I shifted onto my knees between his legs. “I almost don’t want to leave the bed. Things…everything feels different here. Like nothing outside of this place exists or matters. And I know…” I looked over to the latticed door, to the night beyond. “I know when I do, I’ll have to face all the things that do matter.” My gaze fell to the journal I held against my chest. “That probably makes me sound like an immature child.”
“No. Not at all. I get what you’re feeling.” He folded his fingers under my chin, lifting my gaze to his. “When Malik and I went to the caverns, it was our way of escaping.”
“What were you two escaping?” I asked. He’d never expounded on that.
“Malik and I stumbled into many conversations.” A wry grin formed. “Ones that were probably more like arguments between our mother and father. My parents love each other fiercely and have always had the same goal in mind—to provide a better life for all who call Atlantia their home. To make sure that everyone is safe and well cared for. But their methods of achieving that goal don’t always line up.”
I thought about that. “Ruling a kingdom and actually wanting what is best for the people you’re responsible for cannot be easy.”
“No, it’s not,” he agreed. “My father has always had more of an aggressive mentality toward achieving that goal.”
One of his father’s more aggressive ideas was to send me back to the Queen of Solis in pieces. “And your mother truly doesn’t have the same ideology?”
“I think my mother has seen enough war to last her four lifetimes,” he said. “Even when Malik and I were both too young to fully understand the problems Atlantia faced with the ever-decreasing land and the threat of Solis just beyond the Skotos Mountains, we could feel the heaviness that sat on our father’s shoulders, and the sadness that wore on our mother. She is an incredibly strong woman. Just like you. But she worries greatly for the people, and some days, the sadness overshadows the hope.”
“Do you know if your mother loved Malec?” I asked. According to Casteel, it was rare for Atlantians to marry without love between the two, but his mother’s marriage to the original King didn’t sound like it had been a happy one. Part of me hoped she didn’t love him, considering how the marriage had turned out. But she’d given her son a name so strikingly similar to her first husband’s that I had to wonder.
Casteel appeared to think it over. “She never really talked about him. Malik and I used to think it was out of respect for our father, but he isn’t the type to be affected by another who is no longer a part of her life. I think she loved him, Malec, and as crazy as this will sound, I think Malec loved her, too.”
Surprise shuttled through me. “But he had numerous affairs, right? And didn’t you say it was rumored that he and Isbeth were heartmates?”
Casteel nodded as he twisted a strand of my hair between his fingers. “I think Malec was in love with being in love, and he was constantly chasing that feeling instead of nourishing what he already had.” He dragged his thumb over the hair he held. “If the rumor of Malec and Isbeth being heartmates is true, it could’ve been the first time he stopped searching and paid attention to what was in front of him.”
My brows knitted. “All of that sounds incredibly sad and also hopeful. I mean, that if your mother did love Malec, she was still able to find love again. To open herself like that once more. I don’t know…” I held the journal close to my chest. “I don’t know if I could do that.”
“I would never give you a reason to, Poppy.”
My heart melted in my chest and then froze. But what if I was immortal? It seemed utterly incomprehensible to think that I would outlive Casteel, but we really had no idea what I had Ascended into. And while it would take several lifetimes for Casteel to begin even showing signs of aging, he would. And I…I didn’t want to think about spending my future without him, no matter how much of one we shared together. There were the heartmate trials, but the gods slept. There was also the Joining, but I had no idea if that worked in the opposite direction, linking his lifespan to mine.
And I didn’t even know why I was thinking about any of this when we had no idea what I was or what kind of lifespan I would even have. What had Casteel told me once before?
Don’t borrow from tomorrow’s problems?
I needed to start living that way.
“But when Malik and I went to the caverns,” he continued, thankfully unaware of where my thoughts had gone, “we were able to pretend as if none of the conversations happened. The heaviness and sadness didn’t follow us there. Nothing outside of that place existed.”
“But you were young boys then.”
“That doesn’t matter. The feeling still remains, some hundred years later,” he said, and my stomach dipped at the reminder of how old he was—how old I would one day become. “This bed—this room—can become our version of the caverns. When we’re in here, nothing outside it matters. This will be our peace. We deserve that, don’t we?”
My breath caught, and I nodded. “We do.”
His gaze softened as he slid his thumb across my bottom lip. “I wish we could stay in here forever.”
I smiled faintly. “I do, too.”
But we wouldn’t—we couldn’t. Because a moment later, a knock sounded on the door. I rolled off him, standing.
Casteel sighed as he rose, too. He stopped to drop a kiss on my cheek. “Be right back.”
A moment later, I heard Kieran’s voice. Placing the journal on the nightstand, I roamed into the bathing chamber, quickly taking care of my personal needs but not bothering to do much with my hair. I checked my eyes in the mirror before I left, finding that they still had the silvery-white sheen behind the pupils. My stomach took a small tumble at the sight, but I reminded myself that I was still the same.
Mostly.
Casteel was entering the bedchamber when I returned, carrying a fresh platter of food and a new bottle of what appeared to be some sort of sweet wine. One look at the hard line of his jaw, and I immediately knew that whatever news Kieran had brought wasn’t good. I sat on the bed. “What happened?”
“Nothing major.”
“Really?” I watched him come to me.
“Yeah. It’s just my father. He apparently decided to change his mind when it came to waiting for us to come to him. He wants to talk with me.”
I relaxed as he popped the cork and poured a glass of wine. “Then you should talk to him. He�
��s probably just concerned.”
“Does it make me a bad son if I say I don’t care?” He handed the glass to me.
A wry grin formed as I pulled my legs up, crossing them. I took a sip. The wine tasted of sugared berries. “A little.”
“Oh well.”
I tipped toward him. “I know that you do care, though. You love your parents. You haven’t seen them in the gods know how long, and you haven’t had a chance to talk to either of them under any normal circumstances. Go talk to your father, Cas. I’m fine.”
“Cas.” He bit down on his bottom lip as he planted his fists on the bed and bent over. “I’ve changed my mind about you calling me that.”
“You have?” I lowered my glass.
He nodded as he leaned in, brushing his lips across mine. “Because hearing you say it makes me want to get my mouth between your thighs again, and that need is quite distracting.”
Heat flooded my veins. “Sounds like that’s your problem.” I grinned. “Cas.”
“Gods,” he said, the word rumbling out of him. He kissed me quickly, nipping at my bottom lip as he withdrew.
Kieran appeared in the archway as Casteel straightened. He’d changed since he left us, having donned fawn-colored breeches and a sleeveless, white dress shirt that he had tucked in. “Did you actually get some rest, or did you spend hours asking Cas question after question?”
“I slept,” I told him as I plucked a chocolate-glazed strawberry from the tray. “After asking a few questions.”
“A few?” Kieran snorted.
“Yes, only—” Words failed me as Casteel caught my wrist. He lifted my hand, closing his mouth over my finger.
A wicked trill flooded my veins. His tongue swirled over my skin, catching the melting chocolate. Air caught in my throat as the edge of his fang pricked my skin when he drew back. I felt the languid tug of his mouth all the way through me.
The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood And Ash Series Book 3) Page 22