A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

“I did.”

  A long moment passed. “Did she say anything to you?”

  “No.” I swallowed thickly. “She said nothing.”

  “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. “Are you?”

  He said nothing as the sounds of battle grew fainter, and I tentatively opened my senses. His emotions ran the gambit, a swirling storm that was hard for even me to make sense of.

  “No one comes near this carriage,” he said, speaking to whoever was beyond the opening. He hoisted himself up into the conveyance. The ceiling was just high enough for him to stand. “I’m very conflicted right now.”

  “You are?”

  He nodded as the door swung closed behind him. “I’m furious with you for threatening your own life. For even thinking that was a suitable option.”

  “What else could I do?” I demanded, lowering the dagger. “They were—”

  “I’m not done yet, Princess.”

  My brows flew up. “Do I look like I care if you’re done?”

  A shadow of a smile appeared in the dim glow. “I’m livid that you would do something like that.”

  “Well, I’m annoyed that you don’t seem to realize that, at that moment, we were out of options,” I snapped.

  “Still not done,” he said.

  “Guess what? I don’t care.”

  His eyes deepened to a heated honey. “I’m furious, and yet, at the same time, I’m in awe. Because I know you would’ve done it. You would’ve killed yourself to save the lives of those who still stood. You would’ve done it to save me.”

  Backing up as he came forward, I stepped on the cloak and whatever else the Duchess had been wearing. “You don’t sound like you’re in awe.”

  “That’s because I don’t want to be awed by something so incredibly reckless.” His chin dipped, and his voice deepened. “And that’s because I need you.”

  A sudden hot flush chased away the coldness stirring inside me.

  “I need to feel your lips on mine.” He planted his hands on the carriage wall, caging me in. “I need to feel your breath in my lungs. I need to feel your life inside me. I just need you. It’s an ache. This need. Can I have you? All of you?”

  I didn’t know who moved first. If it was him or me or both of us. It didn’t matter. We came together, the kiss just as wild as the one under the catapult, and it said everything that words couldn’t communicate at the moment. We kissed as if we hadn’t expected to have the luxury to do it again. And for far too many minutes, I knew we both believed that.

  We’d been on the cusp of either being separated or killed, and that kiss…and what came next in that shadowy carriage was proof of how rattled we both were by the knowledge that we could’ve lost each other just as we’d truly found one another.

  And it was more than that which allowed me not to care where we were, what I’d done in here and what was happening outside these thin walls, when he slipped the dagger from my hand, sheathing it on my thigh. Or when he turned and lifted me, placing me on my knees on the cushioned bench as he tugged the leggings and undergarments to my knees. What allowed me not to care was what the Duchess had said before I killed her, the utter coldness and emptiness I’d felt as I watched her die, and the haunting intuition that there had been some truth to her words.

  Casteel placed my hands on the wall as he scraped the sharp edge of a fang along the side of my throat, sending a bolt of wanton heat and dampness through me.

  “This is so inappropriate,” I panted.

  “I don’t give a fuck.” He nipped at my skin again, and my entire body arched. “Brace yourself.”

  I did, but nothing could’ve prepared me for what happened. He struck as fast as a viper, sinking his fangs deep into my throat at the same moment he thrust into me. The twisting shock of pain and pleasure stole my breath and fixed my wide eyes on the ceiling—on the circle with an arrow piercing the center embossed in black and crimson. Infinity. Power.

  The Ascended Royal Crest.

  And then…then I became that fire again, the flame.

  There was nothing but an excess of pleasure and ecstasy, intensified by the deep, rumbling sounds he made, the hand that slipped between my thighs, and those wickedly skilled fingers.

  A new madness engulfed us, one not too different from what I’d felt when I stepped out into the courtyard. And maybe all the death we saw and inflicted also drove us to this moment, to the hungry way his mouth moved at my neck and the nearly greedy way my hips pushed back against his. The feel of each other was a reminder that we were alive. That we’d survived. That there would be time for all those things I’d thought of as we were pinned to the ground under the catapult. That even as uncertain as our future was, there was one. And when the storm inside of us crested and took us both over the edge, I knew it was also the intensity of what we felt for one another, what we had both been fighting, that drove us.

  That drove Casteel to abandon his people to save me.

  That drove me to hold a dagger to my own throat, ready to slice deep to save him.

  The intensity of the emotion, how all-consuming it suddenly felt, didn’t make sense. My head fell back against his chest, and he kissed the corner of my mouth, the longer scar, and then the shorter one, I didn’t care.

  “You already have me,” I whispered.

  Chapter 41

  The field I’d seen the Guardians training in was littered with cots occupied by the injured and the dead. Most were mortal. Twenty Descenters or those of Atlantian descent that had settled in Spessa’s End had perished. At least fifty of Atlantian descent who’d arrived with the army had died, and double that occupied the cots. A dozen or so wolven were injured beyond their capabilities to heal themselves. The elemental Atlantians that had made up the vast majority of the army had healed themselves. None of the Guardians had fallen, and only a few were among the injured.

  The Atlantian army had been successful, though, even with the casualties. They’d seized control by the time Casteel and I stepped out of the carriage to find Kieran and several Atlantian warriors standing guard.

  I couldn’t even muster an ounce of embarrassment at the knowledge that some realized what had happened inside the carriage.

  Only one soldier in the entirety of the Solis army had been left alive. Casteel and a few others had left hours ago, escorting a young boy barely beyond the cusp of manhood to the scorched land of Pompay, charged with the task of relaying a warning.

  And a message.

  Atlantia had reclaimed Spessa’s End, and any who came for the town would meet the same fate as those before them. The message was also an opportunity. Casteel had initiated a part of his original plan. The Battle of Spessa’s End didn’t have to be the first of many to come. The Prince and Princess of Atlantia were willing to meet with the King and Queen of Solis to discuss the kingdoms’ futures.

  I didn’t envy the boy who was tasked with delivering the message.

  And I didn’t envy any of the family and friends of those who had lost loved ones. Each time I saw someone I knew standing, I’d been overcome with relief.

  “Thank you,” a raspy voice drew my attention. An older wolven had taken a nasty blow to the arm, nearly severing it. He was the last one to be checked. I’d healed him. Like I’d healed all of those who’d allowed me to try.

  Some had refused my touch, like those in New Haven had. My chest squeezed painfully as Elijah’s image took form in my mind.

  I cleared my throat. “You’re welcome.” Back and arms aching, I started to rise. “I don’t know if your arm is completely healed, so you should have a Healer look at it as soon as possible.”

  The wolven caught my left arm before I could move. His eyes widened slightly at the contact, and I wondered if he’d felt the strange, electric-like current that others had when he touched me. He slowly turned my hand over. “It’s true, then?” he asked, looking at the golden swirl across my palm. “You’ve married our Prince?”

  I nodded as my heart skipped.
This middle-aged wolven, with his head of ropey black-and-silver dreads had been the first to ask.

  “Others are saying you fought beside him the entire battle.”

  “I started on the Rise, but I did go down.”

  “And yet, you’re here. You’ve been here this whole time, healing others,” he said, his pale eyes sharp. “With your touch.”

  “How could I not when I can help?” And I had helped. Talia the Healer I’d caught a brief glimpse of, had her hands full with those who refused my aid. So, after the battle, I had taken the time to wash the blood from my face and hands, even though it was still caked to my clothing and dried under my fingernails.

  He nodded as he let go of my wrist and laid his head back on the cot. “Kieran said you were of the empath bloodline.”

  I nodded again.

  “I’ve never seen an empath glow silver before,” he said. “And I remember them. I was a young boy then, and there was only a handful still alive, but I’d remember something like that.”

  Wondering how old this wolven was, I said, “Jasper said the same.”

  “Not surprised to hear that. He knows things,” the wolven said. “Except when to keep his mouth closed.

  I smiled wearily. “That’s what I hear.”

  “You must be descended from an old empath line.”

  “What else could I be?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.

  “Yes,” he murmured. “What else?”

  I looked over my shoulder, spotting Quentyn and Beckett moving among the injured and recovering. “Water and food are being brought. Is there anything else you need?”

  “No.” The wolven eyed me as I stood. “But you should be careful, Princess.”

  I stilled.

  “I’ve watched the others watching you. Our Prince may have chosen you. You may have fought beside him and for them. You may have healed many of us,” he said with a voice full of gravel. “But they didn’t choose you, and many aren’t old enough to even remember the empath bloodlines. Those who are, remember what they could do—what they were called.”

  “Soul Eaters? I can’t do that,” I said, even as my heart started pumping. “I can’t drain a person of emotion.”

  “But they don’t know that.” His gaze shifted to the cots. “Is there someone here? To watch over you?” He started to sit up. “You shouldn’t be out here alone with the Prince—”

  “I’m fine.” Gently, I pressed him onto his back. “I’m armed and can take care of myself.”

  “I don’t doubt that, but—” His features tightened, almost as if he were in pain, but I knew he wasn’t. “I shouldn’t say this. It’s damn near treasonous, but you healed me. I owe you.”

  “You don’t owe me.”

  “It would’ve taken days, maybe even longer for me to heal that wound, and that is if I kept my arm. I’m a wolven, Princess. That does not mean I can grow back limbs.”

  I glanced at the pale pink mark that nearly encircled the entirety of his biceps. The gods had to have favored him to keep that limb attached after that kind of injury.

  “It’s pretty well known among the armies that once the King knew of the Prince’s plans to capture you, he began to make his own plans. I doubt he knows how much the Prince’s plans have changed, but his have not.”

  A heaviness sat on my shoulders. “He plans to use me to send a message. I doubt I would be a message that was alive and breathing,” I said. “I know.”

  “Then you should also know that Casteel is our Prince,” the wolven said in a low voice. “But Valyn, his father, is our King.”

  “I know,” I repeated, fixing a smile on my face.

  “Do you?”

  The heaviness intensified as I nodded again. “You should rest. At least until Talia can confirm you’re healed.”

  The older wolven relented, unhappily, but with one last goodbye, I roamed the edges of the makeshift infirmary, scanning the field and the banners embossed with the Atlantian Crest.

  I could feel eyes on me.

  I’d felt them the entire time I moved through the field.

  But with all the pain that had been echoing around me, I hadn’t allowed myself to sense anything beyond the agony.

  But they didn’t choose you.

  I flinched as the wolven’s words played over and over in my head as I turned away from the field.

  What the wolven had said about the King and the veiled warning hinting at where the Atlantian people’s loyalty lay didn’t come as much of a shock.

  In the back of my mind, I’d already figured as much, hadn’t I? And that was before they heard Duchess Teerman’s ridiculous claims that I was Queen Ileana’s granddaughter. The Queen was an Ascended. I was not of her blood nor born of flesh and fire—whatever that meant.

  But I wasn’t like other empaths, and even so, that bloodline sounded more feared than respected. I knew I wouldn’t have many supporters in Atlantia. I barely had them here.

  Casteel was the Prince of Atlantia, well-loved and respected. That much was obvious. But not a single person spoke ill of his father or mother, and I knew they were just as loved as he was. Casteel was the Prince, but his father was the King, and if he wanted me dead to send a message, his people would follow his lead. I didn’t know if a ring or marriage imprint would change that when me fighting and killing to protect the people of Atlantia hadn’t.

  And Casteel…he had to know that. He always had to know that.

  Sitting in the tub of warm soapy water, I had my arms locked around my legs, my knees pressed to my chest and my eyes closed. I recalled the warm sand under my feet, and the weight of my mother’s and father’s hands in mine. I remembered how easy Ian’s smile was as he ran ahead, and the sound of my mother’s laugh and the way my father stared at her like…

  Like it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

  The corners of my lips curved up. Thinking of those moments had eased the coldness that returned when I walked back to the fortress. What the Duchess had said and thoughts of Tawny haunted me, just like I knew they would. Along with worries about the King’s plans and the loyalty of the Atlantian people.

  I opened my eyes at the soft click of the bathing chamber door. The scent of rich, earthy spice, and crisp pine enveloped the soap’s lemony scent as Casteel knelt beside me. The strands of his hair were damp, and the clothing he wore was clean and free of blood. When and where he’d cleaned up, I had no idea. I hadn’t seen him since he left with the young Solis soldier.

  “Hey,” he said quietly, his gaze roaming over my face, lingering on a bruise I’d gained in the battle.

  “Hi,” I whispered.

  One side of his lips curled up, and I felt my cheeks warm. I cleared my throat. “Is everything okay? With the soldier?”

  He nodded. “He’s on his way to Whitebridge.” Reaching over, he gathered up several strands of my wet hair and draped it over my shoulder. He bared the bite mark on my throat, and I swore his grin deepened. “I hear I owe you a thank you.”

  I held my legs tighter. “For what?”

  “You spent the entire day healing those you could and easing the pain of those you couldn’t.” Those twin amber jewels met mine. “Thank you.”

  I swallowed. “I only did what I could—what anyone with my abilities would do.” At least, that’s what I hoped. “Some of them wouldn’t let me.”

  His fingers trailed over the damp skin of my back. “Some of them are idiots.”

  “They are your people.”

  “Our people,” he corrected softly.

  My breath caught, and a bit of panic and unease sparked at the realization that they were my people whether they liked it or not. “I’m…I’m sorry about Elijah and all of them. I liked him, and Magda was nice. But they…they were your friends.”

  His lashes lowered as he exhaled raggedly. “I’ve known Elijah since he was a boy, and I know how crazy that sounds since I look younger than him. He knew the risks, and I know he fought back. I know a
ll of them did, but he didn’t deserve that. None of them did.”

  “No, they didn’t,” I agreed softly.

  “I should’ve made them all leave. Risked drawing the attention. I should’ve—”

  “You did what you could. Some of those people couldn’t travel because of their injuries, and none of them were ready to leave immediately,” I argued. “What happened there isn’t your fault.”

  Casteel said nothing.

  “You know that, right? That was the Ascended. They are responsible. Not you.”

  He nodded slowly. “I know that.”

  “Do you?”

  Swallowing, he nodded, and I wasn’t sure if that was the case. “I was told something odd earlier, when I returned to Spessa’s End.”

  “I’m half afraid to ask.”

  There was a brief grin. “You remember when the wolven showed up during the battle?”

  “How could I forget that?”

  “Glad you haven’t because that was when you had a knife to your throat—”

  “I was trying to save you and the people,” I reminded him. “We’ve already covered this.”

  “We did, but Kieran told me that he heard you calling him. He said the other wolven felt it, too. That they all veered in our direction. Jasper confirmed it,” he said. “He said the same thing.”

  “I didn’t. I mean, how?” I swallowed. “I was obviously feeling a lot in that moment. I felt like, I don’t know, like I was about to lose control. But how is that even possible?

  “I don’t know, Poppy. I’ve never seen anything like that. I don’t know how they could’ve picked up anything from you.” He tugged on a strand of my wet hair and draped it over my bare shoulder. “Neither do they. I asked them when they came by just now. Both said they felt you calling for them—calling for help.”

  Goosebumps broke out over my skin. “Delano. Oh, my gods….”

  “What?”

  “When we were in New Haven and I was kept in the room, he burst inside at one point, swearing he heard me calling for him. But I hadn’t.”

  Casteel’s brows slashed over his eyes. “Did something happen at that time? Because if so and I wasn’t told about it—”