“I’m not a bottle of wine,” I whispered.
“No,” he said quietly. “You are not a bottle of wine, Poppy.”
My head jerked up. “And you didn’t know this when you came for me? You swear? You swear right here and now that you didn’t know I was part Atlantian. That this is why they made me the Maiden. That I was being kept alive and sheltered from everything until I was…useful?”
His gaze met mine. “I swear to you, Poppy. I had no idea that you were Atlantian until I tasted your blood. I didn’t even expect that was what you were when I learned of your gift. Maybe I should have.” A shadow crossed his features, gone so quickly I wasn’t even sure I had seen it. “But no Atlantian has been capable of such a thing for, well, for hundreds of years. I didn’t know.”
My senses were still open, and it took several moments to filter through what I felt to even make sense of his emotions. There was still the acidic taste of anger, the tart flavor that I associated with uncertainty, and the sadness that always lingered within him.
My gift wasn’t a lie detector by any means, but I didn’t think he was lying. Pulling my gift back was the hardest part because that didn’t feel natural. What did was going to him and taking away the sadness, giving some temporary peace. My skin tingled with the desire to do just that, and it wasn’t necessarily because it was him. The gift demanded to be used, to heal. I wrestled it back, exhaling raggedly as I sat on the edge of the bed.
“Now that you fully understand why they’ve done what they have to you and what they plan,” Casteel said, his voice hardening in a way I rarely heard when he spoke with me. “Why in the hell would you run back to them, Poppy? Marriage to me or not.”
I stared at Casteel, the meat knife loose in my hands. “I told you earlier, I wasn’t running back to them.”
“Then where were you running to? With no supplies, might I add.”
“You don’t need to add that. I’m well aware of what I left here with.”
“If you weren’t going back to the Ascended, where did you think to go? You were heading toward Whitebridge—to the south.” His eyes were like shards of amber. “You weren’t going back to Masadonia. I figure you were going to the capital. Why? Even knowing what you did then, why would you do that?”
“Why?” Anger flashed through me, hot and bright like the flames. “Are you seriously asking that question again?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” he asked.
I was stunned into silence, but only for a moment. “Why would I stay here and let you turn me over to them? To the people you told me wanted to use me—to the people who abused and tortured you? Who are doing that to your brother? How does that make you any better? Safer? You’re doing the same thing they did to me!” The back of my throat burned as a knot of ugly, painful emotion lodged there. “You’re keeping me safe, well-fed, and caged until you can use me!”
A muscle flexed in his jaw.
“And then you announce that you’re going to marry me.” I shook my head, trembling. “What in the world would make you even say such an offensive thing?”
“Offensive? Come now, Poppy, I know deep down that you must be excited. Not everyone gets to become an actual Princess.”
“I am not remotely—” I snapped my mouth shut, realizing he was actually teasing me. Was this all some grand joke to him?
“It’s considered a great honor in Atlantia to be welcomed into the bosom of the noble, ruling family,” he went on. “I think my mother is going to like you.”
I shot to my feet. “We are not getting married!” Slamming the knife down, it scored deep into the wood of the table by the bed, the handle vibrating from the impact.
“On second thought, my mother is definitely going to like you,” Hawke murmured, and right then, he was Hawke.
That was the bemused tone I was all too familiar with, and it threw me enough that it took a few moments to recover, to remember that it was simply another mask. “Why? Because I didn’t throw it at your face this time?”
“She’ll most likely be amused to hear that you have done exactly that,” he said, and my brows knitted. “And she will be happy to know that you are capable of showing restraint.”
“Now, I wish I hadn’t shown restraint.”
Casteel chuckled, and that too sounded so familiar, but it was Casteel’s laugh that faded. It was his golden eyes that held an intense look of fascination. He was both Hawke and Casteel, but it was the latter that I now dealt with. He leaned forward in his chair, lowering both bare feet to the floor. “You are so incredibly beautiful when you’re angry.”
I refused to be flattered by that somewhat weird compliment. “And you’re so incredibly disturbed.”
“Been called worse.”
“I’m sure you have.” I folded my arms across my chest.
He rose from the chair, and for a moment, I got a little lost in all the bronze skin on display. “We’ll talk tomorrow about our future—”
“There is no future to talk about. We’re not marrying,” I cut in.
“I think you’ll find my reasonings impossible to refuse.”
“Nothing is impossible.”
“We’ll see.”
“No, we—what are you doing?” I demanded as he walked to the other side of the bed. “What are you doing?”
“Getting into bed.”
“Why?” My voice pitched high.
He arched a brow as he pulled the blanket aside. “To go to sleep.”
“I figured that out, thanks. But why do you think you get to sleep in the same bedchamber, let alone the same bed with me?”
“Because, as I explained earlier, this is my bedchamber.”
“Then I will find another room.”
“There are no other rooms available, Princess.”
My hands dug into the blanket as my mind raced. “This isn’t appropriate. I’m the Maiden. Or was. Whatever. I’m the definition of appropriate.”
He stared at me. “Besides the fact that you are not the definition of appropriate, everyone in this keep knows that we’ve already shared a bed, Poppy.”
“Well, that’s just…” My face burned. “That’s just great.”
“I’m not leaving you alone.”
“I’m not going to try to escape! I promise.”
“I hope you don’t think I’m foolish enough to trust your vow.” Casteel picked up a rather flat pillow and fluffed it. “So, either it’s me in here, or it’s Kieran. Would you rather it be him? If so, I will summon him for you.” He tossed the pillow toward the head of the bed. “But just so you know, he often slips into his wolven form and has a habit of kicking in his sleep.”
My lips slowly parted. “What? Wait. I don’t need an explanation of that. I don’t want Kieran.”
The hint of a smile was pure wickedness. “You want me.”
“That is not what I said. You can sleep on the floor.”
“I am not sleeping on the floor. And before you say it, neither are you.” He slipped into bed with enviable grace. “No matter what you think you know of me, I hope you realize that I would never force myself on you, nor would I compel you to do something like that. I won’t ever do something you don’t want from me, and that’s not just because I know what that feels like,” he said flatly, and my heart squeezed. “It’s because I’ve never been that kind of person.”
“I don’t think you would do something like that,” I said quickly. And I didn’t want to know. I…needed to know. “What did they do to you?”
“That’s not something I really want to get into, Poppy.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it. I could understand that. Respect it.
And as I remained where I was, I thought about what Kieran had said earlier about me being safe with the Prince. Unfortunately, I also remembered the effects of his blood, and how I all but begged him to touch me.
Not one of my finer moments.
Casteel had refused, though. He could’ve easily taken advantage of the situation, but what had he said? That he wasn’t a good man, but that he was trying to be one. I thought of the shame I had felt inside him. He was both the villain and the hero, the monster and the monster-slayer.
But I wasn’t afraid of him trying something with me. I was more afraid of myself—scared of how much my heart was pounding. The night we had been together, falling asleep in his arms had been…it had been just as beautiful as what we’d shared before that.
Only it hadn’t been real.
The problem was that my heart didn’t seem to understand that, at least not all the time. That was why it was pumping so fast now. To some—probably to most in the kingdom—sleeping beside someone didn’t mean much of anything. But to me? It was as life-altering as holding hands, being able to openly touch another, or sharing dinner with someone—things other people often took for granted.
That was why sharing a bed with Casteel was dangerous.
I watched him let the blanket fall to his waist and then fold his hands under his head. Once he appeared comfortable, he said, “But, just so you know, if you want my lips on any piece of you, I’m more than willing to appease you.”