My stomach lurched as I saw the limp body—a too-small form clutched to the chest of a woman on her knees, who shared the same auburn hair. The father crouched at the child’s head. It was the woman making those ragged, broken sounds. Her emotions were frenzied, shifting from terror to sorrow to murky disbelief.
“Come on, baby girl, open your eyes for your papa.” Her father shifted closer, carefully brushing her hair back—
The child’s hair wasn’t auburn.
That was blood streaking the light brown strands—hair that matched the father’s. My gaze swept over the child as Delano circled the huddled group. One leg wasn’t lying right, twisted at an unnatural angle. “Open your eyes for me,” her father pleaded. A murmur of surprise rose from those who stood in the garden as they realized that the Prince was among them. “Open your eyes for your momma and me, baby girl. There’s someone here to help.”
The mother’s gaze darted around those standing there. I didn’t think she saw a single face when she uttered, “She won’t open her eyes.”
The child’s lashes were dark against cheeks absent of color. I could barely feel her pain anymore, and I knew that was a bad sign. For that kind of pain to ease so quickly and totally, things were grave. Atlantians, even those of the elemental line, were basically mortal until they entered the Culling. Any number of injuries that could fatally harm a mortal could do the same to them.
The mother’s gaze landed on me. “Can you help her?” she whispered, shuddering. “Can you? Please?”
Heart thumping and skin vibrating, I neared them. “I will.”
At least I thought I could. I had healed Beckett’s broken bones. I had no idea if that would happen now, but I knew I could pump as much warmth and happiness into her as I could. I feared that was all I could do. I worried the Healer had been right, and this child had moved beyond anyone’s ability. I just prayed that my touch didn’t manifest in the same way as it had in the Temple.
Casteel walked ahead, crouching beside the parents. He placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder as I lowered myself while Kieran had gone still, all except for the rise and fall of his chest. His nostrils flared as Delano whimpered, sinking onto his haunches at the child’s feet.
Casteel’s gaze met mine, and I saw it there—the welling grief. “Poppy…”
“I can try,” I insisted, kneeling across from the mother. The stone was hard under my knees as I tried not to notice how the child’s head hung so limply, how it didn’t seem shaped right. I started to reach for the girl, but the mother’s arms tensed around her. “You can still hold her,” I said gently. “You don’t have to let her go.”
The woman stared at me in a way that made me unsure if she understood me, but then she nodded.
“I just need to touch her,” I told her, feeling their shock, their uncertainty, and even the anger I thought had come from the Healer. I shut them out as I focused on the child—the too-pale child. “That’s all. I won’t hurt her. I promise.”
The mother didn’t say anything, but she didn’t move as I lifted my hands again. Inhaling deeply, I kept my attention on the child as I opened my senses wide. I felt…I felt nothing from the girl. Unease trickled through me. She could be deeply unconscious, slipping where pain couldn’t follow, but what I saw on the carriage wheel and the way her head appeared caved-in…
I had only ever healed wounds and bones, and only recently. Nothing like this.
I could still try.
Curving a hand around her arm, I swallowed hard at the stillness of her skin. That was the only way I could describe the feel of her flesh. I suppressed a shudder and let instinct guide me. Gently, I placed my other hand on her forehead. My palms warmed, and a tingling sensation spread down my arms and across my fingers. The child didn’t move. Her eyes remained closed. Becket had responded almost immediately when I touched him, but there was nothing from her. My throat thickened as I looked at her chest. Either her breathing was too shallow or she didn’t breathe—hadn’t been breathing. A slice of pain cut through my chest.
“Poppy,” Cas whispered. A moment later, I felt his hand on my shoulder.
I didn’t let myself feel what he was experiencing. “Just a few more seconds,” I said, my gaze returning to the child’s face, to the blue pallor of her lips.
“Oh, gods,” the father moaned, rocking backward. “Please. Help her.”
One of the wolven brushed against my back as desperation swelled.
“This is unnecessary,” the Healer stated. “That child has already gone into the Vale. You are doing nothing but giving them false hope, and I must say something—”
Casteel’s head lifted, but I was faster. My chin jerked over my shoulder as my gaze met the Healer’s. Static danced over my skin.
“I don’t give up so quickly,” I said, feeling the heat in my skin flare. “I will still try.”
Whatever the Healer saw in my face—in my eyes—he shrank back from, stumbling a step as he pressed a hand to his chest. I honestly didn’t care as I turned back to the child, exhaling roughly.
It couldn’t be too late for this child because that wouldn’t be fair, and I didn’t care how unfair life could be. The girl was far too young for this to be it for her—for her life to be over, all because she’d run out into the road.
Tamping down my rising panic, I ordered myself to focus. To think about the mechanics. When I healed Beckett, I hadn’t had to think about much. It just happened. Maybe this was different. She was injured far more seriously. I just needed to try harder.
I had to try harder.
My skin continued vibrating, and my chest hummed like a hundred birds taking flight inside me. Sharp inhales echoed around me as a faint silver glow emanated from my hands.
“Good gods,” someone rasped. The sound of boots sliding over pebbles and dirt sounded.
Closing my eyes, I searched for memories—good ones. It didn’t take me as long as it had before. Immediately, I recalled how I felt kneeling in the sandy dirt beside Casteel as he slipped the ring on my finger. My entire being had been wrapped in the taste of chocolate and berries, and I could feel that now. The corners of my lips turned up, and I held onto that feeling, taking that pulsing joy and happiness and picturing it as a bright light that funneled through my touch to the child, wrapping around her like a blanket. All the while, I repeated over and over that it wasn’t too late, that she would live. It’s not too late. She will live. It’s not too late. She will live—
The child jerked. Or the mother did. I didn’t know. My eyes flew open, and my heart stuttered. The silver light had spread, settling over the child in a fine, shimmery web that blanketed her entire body. I could only see patches of her skin underneath—her pink skin.
“Momma,” came the soft, weak voice from under the light, and then stronger, “Momma.”
Gasping, I drew my hands back. The silvery light twinkled like a thousand stars before fading away. The little girl, her skin pink, and her eyes open, was sitting up, reaching for her mother.
Stunned, I leaned back as my gaze swept to Casteel. He was staring at me, golden eyes filled with wonder. “I…” He swallowed thickly. “You…you are a goddess.”
“No.” I folded my hands against my legs. “I’m not.”
Sunlight glanced off his cheek as he tipped forward, bracing his weight on the hand he’d placed on the ground. He leaned in, brushing his nose across mine as he cupped my cheek. “To me, you are.” He kissed me softly, scattering what was left of my senses. “To them, you are.”
Chapter 23
To them?
I pulled back, my gaze locking with Casteel’s. He nodded, and I rose on shaky legs, looking over the now-silent garden. My gaze crept over slender, crystal wind chimes that hung from delicate branches, and yellow and white coneflowers as tall as me. My lips parted on a soft inhale. Nearly a dozen people had gathered inside the garden—not including the wolven. All of them had lowered to one knee, their heads bowed. I turned to where Kieran had
stood.
My breath caught. He too kneeled. I stared at his bent head and then lifted my gaze to see that the Healer, who hadn’t believed I could help, who had been angry that I was giving the parents false hope, had bowed, as well, one hand flat to his chest and the other against the ground. Beyond him and the iron fence, those who had been in the streets no longer stood. They kneeled, too, their hands pressed to their breasts and their palms against the ground.
Curling a hand against my stomach, I turned back to Casteel. Our gazes met and held as he shifted onto one knee, placing his right hand over his heart and his left on the ground.
The gesture…I recognized it. It was a variation of what the wolven had done when I arrived in Saion’s Cove. But I’d seen it before, I realized. The Priests and Priestesses would do it when they first entered the Temples in Solis, acknowledging that they were in the presence of the gods.
You are a goddess.
My heart tripped over itself as I stared at Casteel. I wasn’t a…
I couldn’t even force my brain to finish that thought because I had no idea what I was. No one did. And as my gaze fell to where the little girl was still held tightly by her mother and now her father, as well, I…I couldn’t disregard that possibility, even as impossible as it seemed.
“Momma.” The girl’s voice drew my gaze. She had wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck as her father held them, kissing the top of his daughter’s head and then the mother’s. “I was dreaming.”
“You were?” The mother’s eyes were squeezed shut, but tears streaked her cheeks.
“There was a lady, Momma.” The little girl snuggled closer to her mother. “She had…” Her words were muffled, but what she said next was clear. “She said I-I always had the power in me…”
You always had the power in you…
Those words were oddly familiar. It felt like I had heard them before, but I couldn’t place them or remember who’d spoken them.
Casteel rose, and in a daze, I watched him walk toward me, his steps full of fluid grace. If someone said he was a god, I wouldn’t question it for a second.
He stopped in front of me, and my chaotic senses fixed on him. The breath I took was full of spice and smoke, warming my blood. “Poppy,” he said, his tone full of heat. His thumb slid over the scar on my cheek. “Your eyes are as bright as the moon.”
I blinked. “Are they still that way?”
His grin spread, and one dimple hinted at making an appearance. “Yes.”
I didn’t know what was said to the others, but I did know that he spoke to them with the calm confidence of someone who’d spent their entire life in a place of authority. All I was aware of was him steering me around people, past the man who’d been in such a panic but now just rested on his knees, staring up at me as his lips moved, forming words over and over. Thank you.
The wolven were once again beside us as we left the garden. The people on the cobblestone sidewalk and in the street were still there. They had risen and stood as if transfixed, and they all seemed to share the same bubbling, sparking emotion. Excitement and awe as they watched Casteel and I—watched me.
Instead of taking me to where Setti waited, Casteel looked at Kieran. He didn’t speak, and again, I was amazed at how they seemed to communicate or know each other so well that words weren’t necessary.
They weren’t now because a slow grin ticked across Kieran’s face as he said, “We’ll wait for you here.”
“Thank you,” Casteel replied, his hand firmly wrapped around mine, and then he said nothing as he turned me around and started walking.
I followed, my shock from what had just happened giving way to curiosity as he led me a few yards down the street, Casteel seemingly unaware of the wide-eyed stares, the murmurs, and the hasty bows. I wasn’t all that aware of it, either, unable to feel much past the thickening, spicy taste in my mouth, and the tension growing low in the pit of my stomach.
He led me under a sand-colored archway and into a narrow alley that smelled of apples and was lined with urns overflowing with leafy ferns. Gauzy curtains danced from the open windows above as he led me farther into the passageway. The soft melody of music drifted out from above us, the deeper in we went. He made a sharp right, and through another archway was a small courtyard. Wooden beams stretched across from building to building. Baskets of trailing flowers dangled, the array of colors creating a canopy that only allowed thin fragments of sunlight through. Vine-covered trellises created a privacy hedge around hundreds and hundreds of delicate white-petaled flowers.
“This garden is beautiful,” I said, starting toward one of the fragile white blossoms.
“I really don’t give a fuck about the garden.” Casteel stopped me, pulling me into a shadow-heavy alcove.
My eyes widened, but before I could respond, he turned, pressing me back against the stone wall. In the dim lights, his eyes were a luminous, churning honey color. “You know, don’t you?” Casteel folded his hand behind my head as he leaned into me. Against my stomach, I could feel the hard, thick length of him as he brushed his lips across my temple. “What you did back there?”
Soaking up his lush, piney scent and his warmth, I let my eyes drift shut as I clutched his sides, swords and all. “I healed her.”
He kissed my cheek, right along the scar, and then drew back. His eyes met mine, and I swore a fine tremor coursed through his body. “You know that’s not what you did,” he said. “You brought that girl back to life.”
The breath I took seized in my throat as I opened my eyes. “That’s not possible.”
“It shouldn’t be,” he agreed, sliding a hand over my bare arm and then across my chest. A curl low in my stomach made itself known as his palm grazed my breast. “Not for a mortal. Not for an Atlantian, or even a deity.” His hand slipped over my hip and then my thigh. I could feel the heat of his palm through the dress as he skimmed past the wolven dagger. “Only a god can do that—only one god.”
“Nyktos.” I bit down on my lip as his fingers gathered the material of the gown in a fist. “I’m not Nyktos.”
“No shit,” he said against my mouth.
“Your language is inappropriate,” I told him.
He laughed darkly. “You going to deny what you did?”
“No,” I whispered, my heart skipping. “I don’t understand how, and I don’t know if her soul had truly entered the Vale, but she…”
“She was gone.” He nipped at my lower lip, drawing a gasp from me. “And you brought her back because you tried. Because you refused to give up. You did that, Poppy. And because of you, those parents won’t be mourning their child tonight. They’ll be watching her fall asleep.”
“I…I just did what I could,” I told him. “That’s all—”
The sheer intensity of the way he claimed my lips cut off my words. That low curl in my stomach intensified as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss.
Balmy air curled its way around my legs as he drew the skirt of my gown up. Shock at his intentions warred with the elicit pulse of pleasure. “We’re in public.”
“Not really.” The tips of his fangs grazed the underside of my jaw, and every muscle in my body seemed to clench. Up and up it went until his fingers skimmed the curve of my ass. “This is a private garden.”
“There are people around—” A breathy moan escaped me as the skirt rose above the dagger. “Somewhere.”
“No one is even remotely close enough to us,” he said, slipping his hand out from behind my head. “The wolven made sure of that.”
“I don’t see them,” I said.
“They’re at the mouth of the alley,” he told me, catching my ear between his teeth. I shuddered. “They’re giving us privacy to speak.”
A short giggle left me. “I’m sure that’s what they think we’re doing.”
“Does it matter?” he questioned.
I thought about that as my pulse sped up. Did it? What had happened last night flashed before me, as did the memory
of seeing Casteel prone on the Chambers’ floor. Believing he’d died. In a heartbeat, I remembered what it had been like when the blood had drained from my body, realizing there would be no more new experiences, no more moments of wild abandon. That little girl had gotten a second chance, and so had I.
I wouldn’t waste it.
“No,” I said as his gaze lifted to mine. Heart pounding, I reached between us. The backs of my trembling fingers brushed against him, and he jerked as I undid the flap of buttons. “It doesn’t.”
“Thank fuck,” he growled and then kissed me again, obliterating any reservations that stemmed from a lifetime of being sheltered. His tongue stroked mine as he slid an arm around my waist, lifting me. His strength never ceased to send a thrill through me. “Wrap your legs around me.”
I did, moaning at the feel of his hard flesh nestled against mine.
He reached between us, and I felt the tip of him pressing into me. “Just so you know”—he raised his head, his gaze locking with mine—“I’m completely in control.”
“Are you?”
“Totally,” he swore, thrusting into me.
My head pushed back against the wall as the feel of him, hot and thick, consumed me. His mouth closed over mine, and I loved the way he kissed me, like my very taste was enough for him to live on.
He moved against me and in me, the twin warmth of his body and the stone blocks at my back a delicious assault on my senses. The thrusts of our tongues matched the slow plunge of his hips. Things…things didn’t stay that way. Wedging his arm between my back and the wall, he rocked against me until my body became a fire he fanned with each stroke and each intoxicating kiss. He pressed in, grinding against the small bundle of nerves, only to pull back and then return with another deep thrust. When he started to retreat, I tightened my legs around his waist, locking me to him.
He chuckled against my lips. “Greedy.”
“Tease,” I said, mimicking his earlier act by catching his lip with my teeth.
The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood And Ash Series Book 3) Page 31