“Did you?”
“I did…” I sighed. “Key. You have a key.”
“Perhaps.” His head tilted. “Have you been crying?”
“What? No,” I lied.
“Then why are your eyes swollen?”
“Probably because I’m tired. I was sleeping, but you woke me up.”
“I wanted to come back sooner—it seems I always want to come back sooner,” he said, seeming to have accepted my answer. “Especially when you’re wearing something so interesting.”
The blanket had slipped to my waist in sleep, exposing the low neckline of the nightgown. Heat crept down my neck and across the swells of my breasts. “It was the only thing in here for me to wear other than the robe.”
“I like it.” He shifted, seeming to get comfortable as he reached out with his other hand, fingering the strap. “Such ridiculous, tiny straps. I like them.”
I knocked his hand away. “You can let go. I’m not going to stab you.”
“I find that oddly disappointing.”
“And I find that extremely disturbing.”
He laughed deeply, letting go of my wrist. I started to move, but he was so much faster, shifting so he was above me. The warmth of his body pressed against my chest as one of his long legs ended up between mine, shorting out my senses. A flash of heat rolled through me as every part of my body became overly aware of how close he was.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“Making sure you’re comfortable.”
“And how will you accomplish that by lying on top of me?”
“I won’t.” A shadowy grin appeared. “I’m doing that because I like lying on top of you.”
“Well, I don’t,” I bit out, pulse thundering.
His chest brushed against mine, sending a velvet shiver through me. “That’s a lie.”
“It’s not.” I lifted the dagger to his neck. “Truly.”
“Do you remember what happened the last time you held a dagger to my throat?” His fingertips touched my cheek and slid lower, over my jaw. “I do.”
A lick of pleasure followed his fingers. “That was a temporary loss of sanity.”
“That’s my favorite kind.” He dragged his fingers down my throat and over the line of my collarbone. “I really do like these straps.”
“I really don’t care.”
His fingers slipped under it as his hand curved on my shoulder. “You lie so sweetly.”
I ignored that. “Casteel—”
“But not as sweetly as you say my name.”
I let out a little growl. “You are…”
“Marvelous? Charming? Undeniable?”
“Increasingly annoying.”
“But you still haven’t used that dagger at my neck.”
“I’m trying to think of the people who will have to clean up the mess.”
“How thoughtful of you.” He toyed with the strap. “Have I told you that you’re beautiful?”
“What?” The shift in conversation threw me.
“I might have, but I couldn’t remember if I did,” he went on, tugging gently on the strap. “Then I thought that it wasn’t something you could say too often. You’re beautiful, Poppy.”
My stupid, stupid heart skipped. “Is that why you decided to wake me up in the middle of the night?”
“You’re beautiful.” His head tilted, and I gasped at the feel of his lips on the longer scar of my cheek. He kissed that one and then the shorter one, above my eye. “Both halves, and you should never question why anyone would find you utterly, irrevocably, and distractingly beautiful.”
The skipping was back, but I ignored it. “That is a lot of adjectives.”
“I can come up with more.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I advised. “So, now that you’ve told me this, you can get off me.”
He smiled against my cheek. “But you’re comfortable, Princess, and you make me feel…well, you just make me feel.”
What did I make him feel? Lust? Amusement? Entertained? The urge to read him was hard to ignore. “That’s not a reason.”
“That’s the only reason.”
Irritation pricked at my skin even as his breath danced over my lips and his fingers skimmed the outer swell of my breast. “Well, good for you, but I don’t need you to be here.”
“See, that’s the problem.” His voice dropped to a whisper as his hand slid over the silk of the gown. The material was so thin, it served no barrier against the brand of his palm. “You don’t need me.”
“That doesn’t sound like a problem to me.”
“But…” Casteel’s lips glanced off mine, causing my breath to hitch as his hand slipped under the blanket and over my hip. His fingers reached bare skin, and a rush of damp heat pooled. “But you want me.”
Muscles coiled tight in my stomach and then lower as I pressed the sharp edge of the blade to his throat, nicking his skin. “Not now,” I told him.
Undaunted by the knife, he lowered his mouth. And when he spoke, his lips played over mine. “I can sense your arousal, Princess.”
There was no denying that. I could lie all I wanted, but it didn’t change that it took effort not to lift my hips against his, to not think of how he’d felt earlier, thick and hard inside me. But the wound in my chest from what I’d realized was still there, and the memory of how shockingly painful it was to think he’d already been engaged had been a warning I needed to heed before I lost sight of what was important.
“Just because my body wants you, doesn’t mean any other part of me does.”
“Then maybe we should pretend more?” he offered, his fingers drifting closer to where I ached. If he reached that area, I knew I would be lost.
It wasn’t that he had that kind of power. It was that my desire for him did.
“Or maybe we stop pretending,” he said. “I liked that better, to be honest.”
So did I, but what was real to us was different.
Heart thumping, I tilted my head back. My lips touched his as I said, “Since you’ll be home soon, I’m sure there are other beds you could visit that don’t require you to pretend. I’m sure they’re probably numerous. But you could always start with Gianna’s.”
Casteel went still, his hand halting its movements on my inner thigh, and then he lifted his head. “That cannot be a serious statement.”
“Did I sound like I was teasing?”
He rolled off me, and I caught myself before I did something irrational like stop him. I sat up, clutching the dagger as he left the bed so quickly, it was almost like he hadn’t even been there.
A bitter sensation hit my veins, and I closed my eyes. I’d gotten what I wanted—he was no longer in the bed. So why didn’t I feel relief?
“I can’t believe you really said that.”
My eyes flew open in disbelief. “You can’t?”
He was a shadow through the curtains. “Hell no, I can’t.”
I scrambled across the blanket, shoving the panel aside as I nearly toppled out of the bed. A thin line of blood trickled down his neck, even though the wound I’d inflicted had already healed.
Standing, I slammed the dagger onto the nightstand because there was a good chance I would use it. Especially when I turned to him and caught the slow perusal that moved from the tips of my toes all the way up the bare skin of my legs to the fluttery hem and the low neckline of the gown. Heated amber eyes met mine.
I gritted my teeth. “You were promised to another, Casteel.”
“Were you not listening when I made it very clear that it was a promise I never made?”
“I was listening very closely.”
“Apparently, not close enough.” Casteel’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at me. “You know, I’m glad you brought this up. I’d momentarily forgotten that this was something we needed to discuss. You really believed that I was already engaged to someone else, didn’t you?”
“Are you for real?” I choked, hands closing into fi
sts. “Really?”
“Last time I checked, I was real.” He crossed his arms.
“Then why in the hell would you be surprised that I would think something like that? That you wouldn’t tell me? You and your wonderful history of lies and half-truths?”
The heat was gone from his gaze, replaced by a splash of surprise, and then his eyes narrowed again. “Here’s the whole truth, Poppy. Yes, I was expected to marry. I was expected by many, I’m sure. It was something my father had discussed for decades, but he never asked if it was what I wanted. Something you should be familiar with.”
I flinched. I was all too familiar with that. “I thought Atlantians rarely married if they weren’t in love.”
“They don’t. But as I’m sure you remember, my parents reign should’ve already come to an end. It should’ve happened decades ago. My father believed that perhaps if I married, I would stop searching for Malik and do what he thought was right. He knew that I cared for Gianna, that we were close, and thought she would be a good fit.”
Gianna. That name. It sounded rare and exquisite. If this was something discussed for actual decades, then there had to be a history between them, and the sudden hot burst in the back of my throat tasted like an emotion I had no right to claim. “Make a good Princess, you mean?”
“I imagine that she would, but to answer your question, I never really said anything about it because I didn’t want to hurt her or for her to feel as if I were rejecting her,” he said. “She doesn’t need that when it wasn’t like she pursued me on her own.”
But she had pursued him? I managed not to ask that question. “But you never said anything to me about her—about this expectation.”
“Honest to gods, Poppy, I’d forgotten about it until Alastir mentioned the obligations. Far more important things have occupied my mind. And I figured that my father would’ve surely let go of the idea,” he said. “At no point did I ever think that Alastir would bring it up like that. But he’s—” He shook his head. “You can decide not to believe me, but that’s the truth. And even if I had remembered, why would I mention a promise I never made to a woman, to another who I was trying to convince to marry me?”
“Maybe so I would’ve been prepared to hear that?” I nearly shouted. “So I didn’t sit there and think that you were engaged to someone else when you and I—” I cut myself off.
“While you and I did what, Poppy? Kissed. Gave each other pleasure? Had sex? Fucked? Made love?”
I sucked in a shrill breath. “Made love?” I whispered.
“I know that’s not what we were doing,” he said, his eyes flashing a frigid gold. “You wouldn’t think for one second that I was engaged to someone else if that was what we were doing.”
“I don’t understand how that has anything to do with this,” I admitted. “And I also don’t understand why you’re upset.”
“Because I cannot understand how you actually believed I could be engaged to someone else and do the things I’ve done with you.”
“You speak like I know everything about you!” I threw up my arms in frustration. “Just so you know, being able to sense emotions doesn’t tell me everything about a person. Yet you act like I know you. But I hardly do when you pick and choose what you will tell me and when. You only tell me what you want me to know, and I have to piece together what you have shared about yourself to form any opinions. And then I have to decide whether or not you’re lying!”
Casteel stepped forward. “Except for when I needed to feed, I have been nothing but honest with you since you learned who I really was.”
“Even if that is the case, I still don’t know you well enough to know what you would or would not do.”
“Have you even really tried?” he asked.
“I have!”
His brows flew up. “Really? Is that what you’re doing every time it looks like you want to ask something but force yourself to be quiet?”
“I do that because you either tell me nothing, or you tune me out when I ask about things!” I started to turn away and then whipped back around. “Tell me about the conversations you and your brother escaped? The ones that drove you to the caverns. Tell me why you refuse to take the throne even when you know your brother won’t be fit to do it when you free him,” I demanded. “Tell me why you thought it was okay in the first fucking place to kidnap me and use me as ransom before you even knew me!” Frustration crowded my throat. “Tell me why it never occurred to you to mention the Joining. Tell me about Gianna, Casteel. Does she care for you? Does she want this engagement? Do you care for her?”
He exhaled roughly, shaking his head, but I wasn’t done.
“Tell me why you never told me the truth about Spessa’s End until I was here? Was it because you didn’t trust me with that information? Tell me about her. The one you loved and lost because of the Ascended. Tell me what happened to her. Will you even say her name?” My chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, and my anger overwhelmed my senses, blocking out his emotions completely. “Tell me how you can stand to be near me when I represent the people who took so much from you. Tell me why you really came to my room tonight. Tell me something that matters! That is real.”
Casteel’s chest rose with a heavy breath. “You want something real?”
“Yes.”
“I came to your room tonight to learn if what you said at dinner was true. That I was the first person to ever see you. That I was the first thing you ever chose for yourself. That you chose me when you knew me as Hawke, and even after you learned the truth, you still chose me,” he growled, his eyes luminous. “I came here tonight to learn if you really felt like you were betraying Vikter and Rylan, all the others and yourself. I came here to see if that’d changed. Was all of that real, or were you just pretending?”
I took a step back, entirely too exposed, and it had nothing to do with the ridiculous nightgown. I hadn’t expected him to go there. I wasn’t sure why, but I hadn’t.
He shook his head as he barked out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah. Silence. As usual. That’s why there was never a reason to tell you any of those things you’ve demanded from me.”
I stared up at him, hands and arms trembling. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Everything,” he bit out between clenched teeth. “I want everything.”
A shiver broke out over my skin. “I…I don’t understand what that means,” I whispered. And inexplicably, the back of my throat burned. Apparently, I hadn’t cried out all the tears I had to give because they were now threatening to break free again. “I don’t understand any of this. Not you. Not me. How I’m supposed to feel. How I’m supposed to forget everything. I don’t—” Pressing my lips together, I smoothed fingers over my face, over the scars he’d kissed. I dropped my hands. “I don’t understand.”
The sharp lines of his face softened, and it was like watching a mask slip away before my eyes. He stepped forward and then stopped. “Do you think I understand any of this, Poppy? None of this was supposed to happen. I had plans. Capture you and use you. Free my brother and, maybe, if the gods were good, prevent a war—or at least lessen the bloodshed.”
Casteel turned sideways, shoving a hand through his hair. “That was the plan. And fuck if it didn’t go off the rails the moment you walked into the godsdamn Red Pearl.” His eyes closed. “And each time—every damn time—I spoke to you, each time I saw your smile or heard you laugh, and the more I got to know you, the less those plans made sense. And trust me, Poppy, those plans made way more fucking sense than this—than all of his.”
The breath I took got stuck as I grew incredibly still.
“I’m a Prince. A kingdom of people is counting on me to solve their problems—even the ones they’re unaware of, but I…I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t give you to them, not even for my brother.” He turned to me, his eyes nearly luminous. “All because when I’m with you, I don’t think about the kingdom full of people counting on me. I don’t find myself in the middle of
the day, when it’s too quiet, back in those fucking cages. I don’t sit and think of everything I know they’re doing to my brother. Beating him. Starving him. Raping him. Turning him into a monster worse than even they can imagine. When I’m with you, I don’t think about that.”
I curled my hands against my chest—against my thundering heart as his features blurred. And finally, I felt him. His pain. His confusion. His wonder.
“I forget.” He quieted as he shook his head in confusion. “I forget about him—about my people, and I don’t even understand how that’s possible. But I did. I do. And you want to know something about her? About Shea?”
I gasped at the sound of her name on his lips.
“Never once did I forget any of my obligations with her. Never once did I stop thinking about Malik,” he said, stunning me. “And you—you have it all wrong. There is a reason I don’t speak her name. It has nothing to do with the Ascended, and while it sure as hell has to do with how I feel about her, it’s not what you think.”
Casteel stepped toward me once more, his eyes entirely too wide as he said, “And, truthfully, I have no idea how you can even bear my touch after my lies, after what I did and caused. All I do know is that I didn’t plan any of this in the beginning, Poppy. I didn’t plan on being drawn to you. I didn’t plan to want you. I didn’t plan on risking everything to keep you. I didn’t—”
A fist pounded on the door, startling me so badly I almost jumped.
“If you value your life right now,”—Casteel raised his voice—“you will walk away and pretend you were never here.”
“I wish I could. Trust me,” came Emil’s voice. “But this is important.”
“Doubtful,” Casteel muttered, and I almost laughed at the world-weary look that settled into his features.
But then Emil said, “The sky is on fire.”
Chapter 34
Very few things were more important than what Casteel was saying, what he was admitting to me—and what was left unsaid.
The sky being on fire was one of them.
Casteel watched with near unnerving intensity as I pulled on a pair of leggings and then added the cloak over the ridiculous nightgown. Shoving my feet into my boots, I hurried to where he waited between the two rooms. We went to the main door, but Casteel stopped before opening it.
A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire Page 49
