A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire(71)

And come to think of it, why in the hell hadn’t Kieran brought this up?

Then I thought of having this conversation with Kieran, and I wanted to take a wire brush to my brain. As handsome as I believed Kieran to be, I just…I couldn’t even begin to imagine doing something like that with him.

With him and Casteel.

I looked around for a glass of water, but there was none.

“You don’t need to worry about this. I don’t think he’d expect something like that. Casteel is not about the old traditions,” Alastir said.

“But would the wolven expect that?” I asked, and then the worst thing ever spewed from my mouth. “Would Shea have done it?”

Alastir’s eyes widened.

I immediately wished I hadn’t said anything. “I’m sorry. I imagine as a wolven, she wouldn’t have been expected to. And I shouldn’t have brought her up—”

“No. No, it’s okay.” Alastir stretched forward, placing his hand on mine. “Don’t apologize. I’m actually glad you’re willing to speak of her.” He smiled again, squeezing my hand before leaning back. “Although she was a wolven, it is a tradition that some would’ve expected to be honored, and Kieran’s oath would have also extended to her. She was…” He pressed his lips together, and a long moment passed. “Shea never backed down from anything, no matter if others found it distasteful or crude. She would’ve done anything for Casteel.”

And would Casteel have gone through with it?

Gods, I didn’t even want to think about that.

I swallowed as I sank into the chair. My head started racing again.

“I’ve taken up enough of your time.” Alastir once again began to rise.

“Wait,” I nearly yelled as something occurred to me. “If the Joining can extend a mortal’s life, then why didn’t King Malec do that with Isbeth—his mistress? Instead of making her a vampry? Or wasn’t he bonded?”

Alastir stared at me as if I’d suggested whole-heartedly embracing the Ascended’s way of life. “King Malec had a bonded wolven. Actually, he had more than one since he often outlived them. But it wouldn’t have worked on a mortal. The partner has to carry Atlantian blood in them, and even if that woman had Atlantian blood in her, it would’ve been a grave insult to the Queen. One that went beyond carrying on affairs. Any wolven of worth would’ve refused. That much, I know.” His gaze met mine and held. “How old do you think I am?”

His question threw me. “I…I don’t know. Far older than you look, I imagine.”

“I’ve seen eight hundred years.”

Good gods.

“And the reason I know his bonded wolven would’ve refused if asked?” Alastir stated. “It’s because I was his last, and it was I who alerted the Queen to what Malec had done, shattering an unbreakable oath.”





Sometime after Alastir left, the tub was filled with warm water, courtesy of Casteel, according to the two mortals—a younger man and woman with curious eyes. They didn’t ask questions or linger longer than necessary and let me know that if I put my clothing and the nightgown in the wicker basket they’d placed outside the door, my clothes would be laundered. While I’d hoped to see Casteel, I appreciated the gesture, and I was also relieved that he hadn’t returned.

I needed time to process…everything.

So, I made use of the bath, washing my hair, and then I slipped on the robe, tightening it around my waist. The sun was now high, but there was a chill in the room that wasn’t present outside. I sat in front of the fire, slowly working the tangles free from my hair as my mind wandered from one utterly shocking topic to another.

Alastir had been Malec’s bonded wolven? And the Joining? My gods, would the people of Atlantia actually expect that of me—from the three of us? The heat of embarrassment almost drove me away from the fire. It wasn’t that I was disgusted or repulsed. What people decided to do and with whom or how many was their business. And the way Miss Willa had written about sharing herself with more than one partner was never discussed in a way that made me uncomfortable.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true.

Mostly, I didn’t understand how all of it worked. Not the physical aspect. She’d gone into quite a lot of detail regarding that. But more so, it all sounded so very complicated. I just couldn’t even wrap my head around something like that when everything with Casteel was already so damn convoluted.

And why was I even concerning myself with this? Obviously, this was not something Casteel planned. But had he planned to do it with Shea?

“Stop it,” I hissed, forcing my thoughts elsewhere. Unsurprisingly, they came right back to him.

What was a serious Casteel even like? Was that another mask he wore? I’d seen glimpses of that version of him whenever he asserted his authority, but he was so quick to tease and make light with me.

He’s just more alive when he’s with you.

Placing the brush on the floor, I closed my eyes and thought of Shea. Had he been that way with her? I doubted he’d donned any masks with her. Most likely, he had been an entirely different person then.

What’d happened to her? All I knew was that the Ascended were involved in her fate. How did she die? How long were she and Casteel together? Did she love him, too?

Of course, she did.

Even with little to no experience, I knew better than to travel down that road. I’d seen how Casteel reacted before, and while I might not have ever been in a relationship or loved, I knew people either wouldn’t or couldn’t talk about certain things. Things that could only be shared with those you loved, those you truly trusted.

I think you’re heartmates.

There was a snag in my chest as I bit down on my lower lip. After learning about the Joining, I knew Kieran was totally off-base on the whole heartmates thing, but I still wanted to travel that road with Casteel. I wanted to know about who he used to be before he lost Shea, lost his brother. And I wanted to know all of that because I…I cared about him. Because I’d never stopped falling.

Gods.

I was in so much trouble.

And there was a high likelihood that Alastir had realized what I had when we spoke. That Casteel hadn’t trusted me with the knowledge of Spessa’s End. Worse yet, there was no way he believed our engagement was real.

Sitting with my head tipped back and eyes closed was how Casteel found me when he walked into the room. Impossibly, all thoughts I’d been wrapped up in vanished, replaced by what I made up my mind to do.

“What are you doing?” he asked, and I heard the door close behind him.

“Brushing my hair.” Straightening, I opened my eyes, but I didn’t turn around.

“Wouldn’t you need the brush in your hand to do that?” He sounded closer.

“Yes.” A hundred silver hawks fluttered in my chest.

A moment later, he was sitting beside me, one knee bent and the other curled, resting against mine. Slowly, I looked over at him. The moment our gazes connected, the air whooshed out of my lungs. I didn’t know if it had to do with what Kieran had told me or everything else.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry about this morning—about losing control like that. It will never happen again.”

My skin pimpled. His apology was unexpected, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted it. What happened seemed mostly out of his control, and his apology…it made me respect him. I nodded.

“I planned on talking to you earlier than this. I came back after…well, I came back, and you were gone.”

“I was with Kieran,” I told him. “We went down to the Bay and then had breakfast.”

A faint smile appeared. “I heard.”

My brows lifted. “You did?”

He nodded. “The people here told me.”

I didn’t point out how the people here hadn’t spoken to me during our brief encounter but felt the need to report to him that they had seen me.

“I came back to see if you had returned as soon as I could.”

“It’s okay.” I swallowed. “Thank you for the bath.”

“I should be the one thanking you.”

“For what?”

“For knowing how to reach me this morning,” he said, and heat raced across my face.

I toyed with the end of the sash as I glanced at him. Words rose and died on the tip of my tongue. He stared at the flames, the lines of his face nowhere near relaxed. Something occurred to me then, in my desperation to not think about this morning. “Whenever you introduce me to people, why are you so insistent that no one refers to me as the Maiden?”

“That’s an incredibly random question.”

It was. “I’m beginning to realize I’m an incredibly random person.”

The half-smile returned. “I like it. Forces me to stay on my toes when I’m around you. But to answer your question, the less people think of you as the Maiden, the more they will think of you as the half-Atlantian who’s captured my heart.” There was an odd hollowness to his words, and when he looked at me, I noticed faint blue shadows under his eyes. “And the less likely they will be to want to harm you.”

I nodded as I opened my senses to him. The connection was shockingly fast, and within a heartbeat, his hunger hit me—his hunger and his sadness, the latter more bitter than normal, and heavy—so damn heavy. He hadn’t felt that way earlier. Was it because of what’d happened this morning or something else?