Kieran nodded, smiling faintly. “Damn right, we will.”
I grinned at that.
“Well, now that we cleared that up, I know you have a lot of questions,” Casteel said, turning me toward the bathing chamber. “But let’s get this stuff off you first.” He paused. “And into something clean.”
I glanced down at my hands, my nose wrinkling as I saw that they were spotted with purple. “Is it even blood?”
“I honestly can’t say for sure.” Casteel led me to the vanity in the bathing chamber and turned on the faucets. He grabbed a bottle and squirted some of that rich, pine-scented soap onto my hands. “Whatever it is, it smells weird.”
I nodded as I rubbed my hands together. “It reminds me of stale lilacs.”
His brows knitted as he grabbed a bar of soap. “You know, you’re right.” He turned, handing the soap to Kieran. In the mirror, I watched him strip off his ruined shirt and toss it aside as he turned on a faucet to the shower. One of the overhead showerheads came on. “The one you said was on the wall,” Casteel said quietly, drawing my attention. “He spoke?”
I nodded as I rubbed the liquid soap up my forearms. “He wasn’t like the others. He was either mortal or Atlantian.”
“He wore a silver mask,” Kieran said, the muscles along his back and shoulders tensing as he dipped his head under the spray as he scrubbed his face and his closely-cropped hair. “Like Jansen did at the ruins. He also had those damn bone bindings with him.”
“What?” Casteel barked out.
“He did,” I said, running my hands under the warm water.
“Those bones will never touch your skin again.” Casteel’s voice was full of smoke and blood, and eyes as cold as frozen amber met mine. “That, I can promise you.”
“I promise myself that,” I murmured, as a cold slice of unease pierced through me when I thought of the Unseen. “No one has spoken the name of that village in years.”
Casteel’s jaw clenched as he ran his palms up my forearms, washing off the soap. “I knew where the inn was located because I did some digging into your background before we met, but that wasn’t readily available information.” He scooped my hair back from my face as I reached for more of the soap. “We don’t know how many people Alastir shared that knowledge with.”
He held my hair as I quickly washed my face. When I was done, the scent of stale flowers no longer clung to my skin at least, and Kieran had turned off the water. “Thank you,” I said as he handed me a towel.
“Alastir claimed there was another at the inn, correct?” Water dampened Kieran’s throat and chest as his gaze met ours in the mirror. “Called him the Dark One?”
I backed away from the vanity, lowering the towel. “He did. Why?”
“Is it possible that Alastir simply shared that information with others?” Kieran answered. “Or is there the chance that he was speaking the truth? That another was there.”
Anything was possible, but… “Alastir made it sound like this mystery figure led the Craven there.” I watched Casteel strip off his ruined shirt. That strange, purplish blood streaked the upper part of his chest. He took the bar of soap from Kieran as I said, “Can these…Unseen control the Craven?”
Tension bracketed his mouth as he lathered the soap between his palms. “The Unseen were gone long before the first Craven was ever created—or as far as we know. Either way, the Craven can be herded in a direction, but they cannot be controlled beyond that.” He looked back at Kieran. “If you want, you can grab one of my shirts.”
Kieran nodded, making his way to the wardrobe just outside the bathing chamber as I placed my used towel in a hamper. “But I…”
“What?” Casteel dragged his soap-covered hands over his face and then through his hair.
It took me a moment to pull my thoughts together. “I was told that my parents left Carsodonia because they wanted a quieter life. But that was a lie. They discovered the truth, or they always knew what the Ascended were doing and decided they could no longer be a part of it,” I said, hating to even speak those words. “He also claimed that my mother was this Handmaiden, trained to fight.” I hurried over to the stool, grabbing a smaller towel like the one Kieran had used as Casteel dipped his head, washing his face, and then ran the water through his hair. “That could be true, or it could also be a lie. But what if Alastir spoke the truth? What if someone else was there and led the Craven to the inn?”
I handed Casteel the towel as I said, “I…I have these memories of that night,” I said, glancing at Kieran. He’d donned a black tunic. “I know I heard Alastir’s voice—I heard him talking to my father. But I…I’ve dreamt of someone in a dark cloak. Someone else could’ve been there, and Alastir didn’t make it sound like it was someone who had anything to do with him. What if…what if that Craven attack had nothing to do with Alastir or the Unseen?”
“You’re thinking the Ascended may have had something to do with it?” Kieran asked from the doorway. “But if they knew what you were, they would want you to stay alive.”
“Agreed.” Casteel dragged the towel over his chest and face. “Luring the Craven to the inn would’ve been too much of a risk. Those creatures cannot be controlled by anyone.”
“And all that hinges on whether or not the Ascended knew what I was before my parents left—before I was attacked. I still don’t know that for sure,” I said. “Alastir never confirmed that.”
Casteel rubbed the towel through his hair. “But if they did know, that would mean that the Ascended—the Blood Crown—knew that one of your parents was a descendant of Atlantia.”
“And that leaves us with the question of why they weren’t used in the same fashion as all the others descended from Atlantia,” I murmured, sighing. One possible answer or question just led to another. It made my head hurt.
And my heart, too.
“Before those things showed up tonight, you asked how it was possible for your abilities to be this strong—how they were this strong even before Cas Ascended you.” Kieran drew my gaze to him. “One of your parents had to be a full-blooded Atlantian.”
“But how is that possible if I’m descended from Malec? His offspring with a mistress would’ve been mortal. And if my mother was a Handmaiden, it couldn’t have been her, right?” I looked at Casteel.
“I would think not,” he answered, tossing the towel into the hamper. “None I saw were, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t possible—possibly implausible, but not impossible.”
“And I look like my mother,” I told them. “Except for my eyes.”
“Your father?” Kieran asked, even though I was sure we’d had this conversation before.
“He was from Carsodonia, just like my mother was,” I answered.
“I know you don’t like to hear this,” Kieran started, and I stiffened, knowing where he was going with this, “but that’s all assuming that your parents were your birth parents. Or—” he quickly added when I opened my mouth. “Or what you remember, what you were told about who your parents were, simply wasn’t the truth.”
Chapter 20
“He’s right,” Casteel said softly, his gaze searching mine. “I don’t know why Alastir would’ve lied about your mother being a Handmaiden. If he was telling the truth, your mother was never a Lady in Wait, destined to Ascend. That could also mean your father wasn’t a merchant’s son.” He paused. “It could also mean that only one—or neither of them—was your parent by blood.”
And if neither of them was? Then Ian…he may not be like me at all if he Ascended. He may be like any other vampry.
Leaning against the cold tile, I tipped my head back. I started to respond and then stopped as my toes curled against the floor. “I was young. My memories of before that night are spotty at best. I just know what I was told about them, and although Ian was older, it wouldn’t be like he knew any differently.” I shook my head, overwhelmed. “But I look like my mother, so maybe my father was an Atlantian, and my mother a mortal descendant of M
alec and his mistress. Would that explain my abilities being so strong?”
“That would be one hell of a coincidence,” Kieran noted, and he was right.
Casteel and Kieran exchanged a look. “I don’t know,” Casteel answered. “That’s a complicated bloodline to sort through, but that’s also working off the assumption that you are related to Malec. You may not be. Alastir could be wrong, even if he truly believed that.”
I wondered if his mother would know somehow.
Casteel’s gaze met mine. “We’ll figure this out.”
Other than his mother, as unlikely as that may be, only one other person may know.
Queen Ileana.
Casteel turned to Kieran. “I think there’s an old robe in there. Can you grab it for me?”
Kieran handed him a long piece of black clothing as he said, “There’s something I need to do real quick. I’ll be right back.”
Watching me, Casteel nodded curtly as he hung the robe from a hook by the door. “We’ll be here.” He waited until Kieran disappeared. “Let’s get you out of that shirt so I can burn it.”
A wry grin tugged at my lips. “I guess this shirt isn’t salvageable?”
“Unlikely.” He came to me, curling his fingers around the hem. “You know the drill.”
I did.
I lifted my arms. “I think you like taking my clothes off.”
“I do.” Casteel tugged the shirt up and over my head. Cool air washed over all the newly exposed skin. He dropped the tunic to the floor as he stared down at me, his lips parting just enough that I could see a hint of his fangs as his gaze swept over me in a slow, lingering perusal. Muscles tightened low in my stomach. He placed his hand on the side of my ribs and under my breast. The contact sent a sharp pulse through me. His other hand did the same on the other side of my body. “However, I do not like undressing you, only to cover you immediately.”
I looked down, my toes curling even more against the tile floor at what I saw beyond the puckered, rosy-pink tips of my breasts. His golden-bronze skin was such a striking contrast to mine, and his hands were so large and strong.
“What Kieran asked of you tonight? Don’t hold it against him. He cares for you. And his concern?” he said. “I have to fight my instincts when it comes to you rushing out there to battle everything and anything, too. It’s not because I don’t think you’re capable. It’s just that I fear losing you.” He lowered his head, and his warm breath coasted over my chest and to the swell of a breast. “But your need to defend yourself is greater than my fear. That’s the only reason I don’t stop you. It will be the same for Kieran.”
“I know—” I gasped as his mouth closed over my breast. My eyes widened as I stared down at the dark, damp curls of his hair. His tongue swirled over my nipple, eliciting another strangled sound from me. He looked up at me, eyes burning as he arched a brow, waiting for me to continue. “I…I won’t hold it against Kieran.”
A brief, pleased smile crossed his face, and then he caught the sensitive skin between the edges of his teeth and then his lips. “You know what helps me get over my fear?”
I shook my head.
“This.” The pink tip of his tongue flicked over the throbbing, tightened skin. “This helps. So does your bravery, and you know what else? I get to reward you for your bravery.”
My pulse had already been pounding, but now it thundered through me. “I…I get a reward?”
“You do, but I also get a reward for looking past my fear,” he said, his thick lashes lifting once more. Gold churned restlessly in his eyes. “It’s a good thing this reward will be mutually beneficial.”
“It will be?”
He nodded, and then his mouth closed over my breast again. I felt the wet slide of his tongue and then the wicked scrape of his fangs. My breath caught at the forbidden sensation, and then he struck, sinking his sharp teeth into the flesh above my nipple. I cried out, threading my hands into his hair as my entire body jerked. The razor-sharp pain was intense, shooting through my entire body. There was a second where I wanted to pull away when the pleasure-pain was almost too much, but it was gone in a heartbeat. He sealed his lips over the tingling skin of my breast and sucked deep, drawing the sensitive peak into his mouth, taking my blood into himself.
A fire erupted inside me, heating my blood and every part of my body. My head spun, and I shuddered as his growl rumbled against my skin. I held onto his hair, shamelessly holding him there as damp heat flooded my entire being. An aching spike of pleasure darted through me. My hips twitched as he tugged at my skin.
“Cas,” I breathed.
He made that sound again, that sensual, rough sound, and then he moved, pressing my back against the wall, the hard line of his thigh between my legs. I gasped at the contact of the cold tile against my bare skin and the feel of his breeches-clad thigh against my core. He dropped a hand to my hip, and as he pulled harder on my breast, he tugged my hip down and forward, rocking me against his leg. Tense, tight waves of pleasure rippled out from between my thighs and from my breasts as I stood on tiptoe, my weight mostly supported by him. The drag and pull of his mouth on my breast seemed to be connected to the intense throb at my core. My hips moved against his thigh. There was nothing slow about it. I rocked hard against him, driven by the dual sensations of him feeding from my breast and the soft friction of his leg against my swollen, tightened flesh. Tension curled and whirled, spinning tighter and faster. He feasted, and I became frenzied, tugging at his hair, sinking my nails into his skin. My legs clamped down on his thigh, and all the tension inside me erupted, lashing through me in the most delicious and stunning way. I shook, calling out his name as my release rolled through me.
I was still trembling, twitching when his tongue soothed over his bite, and he straightened, holding me tightly against his chest. His mouth closed over mine in a slow, languid, iron-rich, and musky kiss. The taste of my blood on his lips sent another wave of pleasure through me.
“You,” he drawled, his voice thick. “You really liked that reward.”
My forehead rested against his as I struggled to gain control of my breathing. “A little.”
“A little?” His laugh was like smoke. “You came so hard, I could feel you through my pants.”
“Oh, my gods.” I choked on a laugh. “That is so…”
“What?” His lips dragged across mine. “Inappropriate?”
“Yes.”
“But it’s true.” He kissed me as he eased me to my feet. “You can stand? Or have I blown your mind and your muscles?”
“Your ego is ridiculous. I can stand.” Barely. “And in case you’re wondering, I would like more of those rewards, please and thank you.”
A devastating smile appeared, and those two dimples winked to life. “Although I love hearing the word please spill from your lips, you never have to say it.”
I grinned as he pulled away. While he turned to grab the robe, I glanced down. My cheeks heated at the sight of the two reddish-pink puncture wounds and the swollen skin around them. Goodness. The mark he left behind was indecent.
I loved it.
He held the robe for me, and I turned, slipping my arms through the sleeves. The material was unbelievably soft and yet lightweight enough that I didn’t think I’d grow heated. The length was a little long, completely hiding my toes, but it smelled like him—like pine and spice.
He stepped in front of me, quickly buttoning the two sides and then tightening the sash. “This looks far better on you than it ever did on me.”
“I can’t even picture you wearing this.” I looked at the long, flowing sleeves and flapped my arms.
“I’d rather be naked.” He winked when I raised a brow. “I’d rather you were naked, too.”
“Shocker,” I murmured.
While Casteel went to the wardrobe to pull out fresh clothing, I quickly wrangled my hair into a braid. The pleasant haze of his wicked reward sadly faded by the time I sat on the couch in the living area and Kieran
returned, a large book in his hands and his father with him.
Jasper’s piercing gaze found mine, and he started to lower. I stiffened, but he seemed to stop himself before bowing. The curse he muttered garnered a small grin from me. “You are well?” he asked.
I nodded. “I am. You?”
“Peachy,” he muttered, dropping into one of the chairs. “Where is—?”
“Right here.” Casteel sauntered into the room as he dragged a hand over his head, brushing the still-damp strands off his face. He went to a credenza against the wall. “Drink?” he offered. Only Jasper nodded. Casteel poured two glasses as Kieran sat beside me. “So, the Unseen…?”
“Yeah,” Jasper growled. “That was the first I’d heard there might be a chance they were involved, which irritates the piss out of me. No offense to your father,” he tacked on halfheartedly. “But that is something he should have clued me in on, even if it had nothing to do with her.”
“Agreed,” Casteel muttered as he glanced over at Kieran. “Does this book you brought with you hold the answers to why my father kept that so quiet?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Kieran cracked the thick book open. “Those things that were outside? I figured you had a lot of questions about them.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Casteel responded, handing Jasper a glass. “If that was the first time they saw one of them?”
“Exactly.” I watched Kieran flip through the pages.
“Well, I figured it was best that I grab this,” Kieran said. “It’s an old textbook, centering around the history of Atlantia—the gods and their children.”
“Oh.” I leaned over, my interest more than piqued, but the moment I saw one of the pages, I sighed. “It’s in a different language.”
“It’s in old Atlantian—the Primal language of the gods.” Casteel sat on the arm of the settee. “I can barely read that now.”
The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood And Ash Series Book 3) Page 26
