A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire(19)

Pressure clamped down on my chest at the image of Lord Mazeen holding my hands to the table, preventing me from covering my chest, stopping me from any shred of dignity. “Whenever he was disappointed in me,” I replied roughly. “He was often disappointed.”

His lips thinned. “If I had known that Lord Mazeen joined him, he would’ve been staked to that wall right alongside the Duke.”

I lifted my gaze to his. “I’m glad you didn’t. If you had, then I wouldn’t have gotten to see the look on his face when I sliced off his hand and then his head.”

Casteel stared at me, the corners of his lips curving up. His lips parted, and I saw a hint of his fangs. The dimple in his right cheek appeared, and then his left. I felt a curling motion in my stomach. “So incredibly violent, my Princess.”

The curl moved even lower. “I’m not your Princess.”

He chuckled as he turned his head away. “You think you can go back to sleep?” he asked. “We probably have a couple more hours before Kieran or someone will be banging on this door to make sure you haven’t found a way to murder me in the middle of the night.”

I rolled my eyes.

“As soon as the storm blows over, we’ll leave for Spessa’s End.”

I knew very little about Spessa’s End. Only that it was a small town similar to New Haven, sitting on the edge of Stygian Bay. It was the closest town to Pompay, the last Atlantian stronghold during the war. One of the Priestesses had told me that Stygian Bay was the gateway to the Temples of Eternity, overseen by Rhain, the god of Common Men and Endings. She’d described the Bay as black as the night sky.

Lying down, I turned onto my side, but I didn’t sleep. Instead, I stared at the dying flames, thinking of the Duke, the nightmare, and the knowledge that there would be little chance of escape between here and Spessa’s End.

“You’re not sleeping, are you?” Casteel asked sometime later.

“How did you know?”

“You’re rocking over there like you’re a babe being wooed to sleep.”

“I am not—” I swallowed a groan as I realized that I was doing exactly that. I stilled my lower half. “Sorry. It’s an old habit from when I was a child. I usually can’t sleep after the nightmares,” I admitted after a few seconds.

“Is that when you sneak off to explore the city?”

Since he couldn’t see me, I grinned. “Sometimes. It all depended on how late it was.”

“Well, there’s no city for you to explore,” he said, and I felt the bed shift as he moved. “I’m confident you remember how adept I am as a sleep aid.”

Sparks danced over my skin. Of course, I remembered the night in the Blood Forest, when he’d slipped his hand between my thighs, and for the first time in my life, I’d discovered what pure pleasure was. I tried to block those images. “That’s not necessary.”

“That’s disappointing.”

“That’s your problem—” I sucked in a sharp breath as I suddenly felt him against my back. I twisted. “What are you doing?”

“Holding you,” he answered, curving an arm over my waist.

My heart bounced like a child’s ball. “I don’t—”

“That’s all I’m doing,” he cut in. “I sometimes find that being close to another helps me fall asleep.”

I wondered how he’d gained that knowledge. Instead, I asked, “Then why didn’t you suggest that in the Blood Forest?”

“Because this is not nearly as fun or interesting as what I did then,” he replied. “I do have that diary around here somewhere. You know, the one with the throbbing co—”

“I know exactly which journal you’re speaking of. And that won’t be necessary either.”

“That’s all so disappointing.” He settled his head behind mine as he all but pulled me down. “I need my sleep, and that’s not going to happen when it feels like I’m on a boat.” He paused. “A rickety one.”

“I wasn’t rocking that much!” I denied, wiggling to put space between us.

“I wouldn’t advise that,” he said, voice gruff as his arm tightened.

“Why?”

“Squirm a few more inches lower, and I’m sure you’ll find out why.”

My eyes popped wide as I grew very, very still. Was he…? Was he aroused? Simply because he was lying in bed next to me? Was that all it took? After what we’d just talked about?

I bit down on my lower lip. Sometimes, all it took for me was to look at him, and I’d feel a certain way. Knowing that he could experience all the want and desire after what he went through was a relief. What he felt now had nothing to do with what had been done to him. What I felt when he touched me had nothing to do with how I felt when the Duke placed his hands on me. I knew that.

And I shouldn’t be shocked to discover that Casteel was attracted to me. That had been abundantly clear unless…that too had been an act.

No, I didn’t think it was an act.

There’d be no reason to force the attraction now, especially not when it was just us—

“I can practically hear the wheels of your brain turning, Princess,” he said.

“Why do you believe I’m thinking about anything?” I demanded.

“Because you couldn’t be stiffer. Sleep, Poppy. We have a lot to talk about tomorrow.”

The marriage.

Our future.

Two things that were irrelevant because the first was never going to happen, so there could be no future for us.

Besides, how was I supposed to sleep with him curled around me like one of those small, fluffy animals that lived in trees near the capital? What were they called? I couldn’t remember. I’d only seen drawings of them in a children’s book I’d once found in the Atheneum. They were cute and looked soft, but Vikter had once told me that they were vicious little creatures.

“Do you know what the fluffy animals are called that live in the trees near the capital?” I asked.

“What?”

“The ones that hang onto the limbs,” I explained. “They’re fluffy and cute, but are supposedly vicious.”

“Dear gods, do I even want to know why you’re thinking of the tree bears?”

“Tree bear?” My brow puckered. “That’s the name?”

“Poppy,” he sighed.

I rolled my eyes. “You remind me of a tree bear.”

“I would tell you that I’m offended, but that requires speaking, which means neither of us would be sleeping.”

“Whatever,” I muttered.

Lying there stiffly, I debated snatching the meat knife and stabbing him in the arm with it. That seemed like a bit of an overreaction, but it was one I’d enjoy, at least in the moment.

I didn’t know exactly when or how long it took, but somewhere between staring at the knife and doing everything not to rock, my eyelids grew heavy, and I did eventually sleep.

And I did not dream.





Chapter 8





The next time I saw Casteel, I was going to shove the stupid knife so far into his chest, he would have to dig it out.

Glaring at the door, guarded from the outside, I swallowed a shout of frustration and anger. With the exception of Delano arriving with lunch, I’d been locked up in this room all day, alone and going absolutely stir-crazy.

Casteel was gone when I woke, and that had been a welcomed discovery since waking up in his arms was not something I needed to experience again. The memories of such were already hard enough to forget. But hours later, as the snow fell steadily and the wind howled outside the narrow window, whatever gratitude I’d felt had shriveled up and died.

Delano had stood guard outside nearly the entire day. I knew because the last time I had pounded on the door, he’d answered through the heavy wood. He’d replied in virtually the same way each time I demanded to be let out.

“No one wishes to chase you through a snowstorm.”

“I’d rather not be gutted by the Prince, so no.”

“The Prince will return soon.”

My favorite was when I’d said that I just wanted some fresh air. “Nothing personal, but there is literally no way I would trust you enough to crack this door open to allow even an inch of fresh air to enter your chamber.”

How was that not personal?

I started toward the door, planning to bang my fist off it until the whole keep came running—

The door suddenly swung open as Delano rushed inside, hand on the hilt of his sword. He drew up short, eyes bright as he checked me over and scanned the room.

“Are you okay?” he demanded. Delano had the kind of face that often tricked you. Except for the nearly constant crease between his fair brows, there was a boyishness to his features. As if he would be grinning the second he thought you weren’t looking. But in that moment, with the hard set to his jaw and the steeliness in his eyes I’d never seen before, he looked as if he were a breath away from lopping off someone’s head.

“Other than being angry about being trapped in here? Yes.”

His eyes narrowed. “You weren’t yelling?”

My brows lifted. “Not externally. Did you hear me yelling?”

Delano’s head tilted. “What do you mean by…not externally?”

“I was probably screaming internally for being locked in here.”