I allowed myself a small smile as I sank into his embrace, his warmth. And I permitted myself one other thing.
I let myself enjoy it.
Chapter 27
Pulling one of Casteel’s clean tunics over my head, I looked down at myself and sighed. Between the too loose breeches and the oversized shirt, which nearly reached my knees, I looked a bit ridiculous. But the plain black shirt was far better than the too-heavy sweater.
We hadn’t dozed that long, maybe a little over an hour before I woke to find him propped up on his elbow, watching me. When I asked what he was doing, he simply responded with, “Enjoying the scenery.”
I’d blushed a thousand shades of red, and he’d smiled before lowering his head and brushing his lips over my forehead. Then he’d said that he had an idea, and that was how I ended up in the baggy breeches and one of his shirts.
Glancing at the oval mirror before leaving the bathing chamber, I caught sight of the side of my neck. The patch of skin around the two red puncture wounds was faintly pink. I touched the skin, finding the area tender but not painful. When I left the bed, I’d noted that the shadows under Casteel’s eyes were gone, as was the sharpness to his features. It was amazing how quickly my blood had affected him.
It was also amazing how his bite had affected me.
The moment his mouth had closed over my skin and the initial pain of his bite vanished, it was like tumbling into a world where the only thing that mattered was him and the feel of him drawing a piece of me deep inside him. What Kieran had shared with me before about heartmates hadn’t mattered. The realization that Casteel had possibly kept the truth of Spessa’s End from me because he either feared I would share what I knew if captured or he hadn’t trusted me with the information until I was far enough outside the Ascended’s reach was no longer a concern. Neither was the shock of learning about the Joining. There had been no shame over being trapped between Kieran and Casteel as Kieran had been all but pinned to the wall by Casteel’s need. I’d become a flame, and none of that had mattered.
But now?
Now, there was embarrassment when I thought of Kieran—the wolven who must have known about the tradition. Something Casteel had never told me about because it hadn’t been relevant for him to do so. The marriage was temporary. An act that I wasn’t sure was as innocent as Casteel made it out to be—at least not most of the time. But I didn’t feel shame for what Kieran had witnessed. I didn’t know if I was supposed to, but it didn’t feel like something to be ashamed of. My reaction to Casteel was natural, and even if what came afterward when Casteel expressed his gratitude was foolishly reckless when it came to my heart, it had also felt right.
Flushing at Casteel’s apparent lack of control, I scooped my hair out from the tunic’s collar, leaving it down. He’d said that had never happened before, and I couldn’t fathom why he’d lie about that. The fact that it’d happened with me was inconceivable, but there was an odd sense of power there, too, one as old as time itself. The kind of power that I imagined Miss Willa and the women at the Red Pearl, the ones who worked there and were patrons of the establishment, had mastered.
Hearing Casteel’s footsteps in the bedchamber, I tore my gaze from the mirror and slid open the pocket door.
Casteel had managed to change his clothing. Somewhat. He’d donned his breeches and boots, but the white tunic still dangled from his fingertips. Something about the hard lines of his chest and stomach were utterly fascinating, but my earlier boldness had left me.
“So, about my idea,” he said, lifting the shirt over his head.
“I’m half afraid to ask.” I moved to the terrace doors. He’d opened one after we woke. Warm sunlight spilled across the tile floor.
His laugh was muffled as the shirt slipped over his head. “I’m wounded.”
With his back to me, I grinned. “I’m sure you are.”
“Completely.” Facing me, he left the shirt untucked. “Since it’s early in the day, I thought we could take a little field trip.”
Excitement bubbled to life as I shoved up one long sleeve. “To where?”
“I thought you might like to see the real Spessa’s End.”
I opened my mouth to ask if he truly trusted me with what I saw, but I managed to stop myself.
His gaze flickered over me. “What?”
“I would like that,” I said instead.
Casteel’s head cocked as he studied me for a moment, almost as if he didn’t believe my answer. “I’m glad to hear that.” He came forward, stopping in front of me. “But there is a caveat.”
“What is that?” I asked as he lifted my arm.
He folded over the edges of the sleeves, forming a cuff. “We continue to pretend.”
My heart skipped a beat. “That you’re just Hawke?”
“And you’re just Poppy.” He rolled up the sleeve, halting just below my elbow. “Want the sleeves higher?”
Knowing that he was asking because of the pale scars on my inner elbows, I nodded.
There was a glimmer of approval in his eyes as he tucked the sleeve so it was above my elbow. “We don’t spend the rest of the afternoon thinking about the past.”
“Or worrying about the future?” I said.
He nodded as he motioned for me to lift my other arm. “We will just be Hawke and Poppy. That’s all.”
I watched him roll up the other sleeve. “No one else will treat you as Hawke. They won’t see me as Poppy.”
His gaze lifted to mine. “No one else matters. Just you and me.”
Another skip of another beat. There was no denying that it would be incredibly ill-advised of me to pretend anymore. It blurred everything, and pretending…well, it didn’t feel like that to me. But there was also no denying that I wanted exactly what he offered.
And since when did something being foolish ever stop me?
Besides, I wanted to see Spessa’s End.
Telling myself that was the main reason, I nodded. “I agree to your conditions.”
The dimple appeared in his right cheek. “So, it’s a deal?”
“Yes.”
“Then we must seal the deal,” he told me. “And do you know how Atlantians seal a deal? They do so with a kiss.”
“Really?” I asked doubtfully. “That sounds incredibly problematic.”
“Perhaps.”
“And it also sounds like a lie.”
Casteel nodded. “It is.”
There was no silencing the laugh. It burst from me. And Casteel—he moved so unbelievably fast. His head dipped, and his mouth was on mine before the laugh even faded. The shock of his lips against mine sent a jolt through me. The kiss was…it was as intoxicating as his bite, as everything about him was. And when his fingers sifted through my hair, guiding my head back, there were no protests to be found. The kiss deepened, and the touch of his fangs, his tongue on mine, sent a hot, tight shudder through me.
“Sorry,” he whispered against my lips. “I know I should’ve asked first, but your laugh… It undoes me, Poppy.” He slid his hands over my cheeks, his fingers not hesitating when they reached the scars. “You’re more than welcome to punch me for it.”
I didn’t want to punch him. I wanted him to kiss me again. A soft breath left me. “I guess the deal is sealed now, isn’t it?”
He gave an audible swallow. “That it is.” Drawing back, he took my hand. “Come. If we spend another moment here, I don’t think we’ll make it from this room.”
My eyes widened. There was no mistaking the seriousness of his words, and another shiver danced across my skin.
Casteel led me out through the terrace and into the courtyard, his hand still firmly around mine. I looked off toward the sun-drenched Rise and squinted. “Are there people on the Rise.”
“There are, and they were also there last night. You just couldn’t see them.”
“Mortal eyesight sucks,” I muttered, and he smirked. “But I thought the Ascended weren’t a threat this far east.”
“They haven’t been, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
Our boots trod softly over the patchy grass and sand. “Alastir said that rebuilding Spessa’s End was your idea.”
“For the most part,” he said, and that was all he said as we neared the stables. I felt the sting of disappointment, but then I reminded myself that today wasn’t about the future. “You up for riding? It’s not that far of a distance to walk, but I’m feeling lazy.”
“I’m fine with either.”
“Perfect. Because I have another idea,” he said. A moment later, an older man strode out of the open door of the tack room. “How are you doing, Coulton?”
The man came forward, dragging a handkerchief over his bald head. The closer he got, I realized he was a wolven. His eyes were the blue of a winter morning. “Good.” He bowed his head in greeting. “And you?”
“Never been better.”
A grin appeared as Coulton’s gaze slid to me. The smile halted as he suddenly took a step back. He stared at me, and I tensed, my hands tightening on reflex—squeezing Casteel’s. I immediately forced my grip to relax. Either it was the scars, or the wolven realized who I was—who I used to be. The Maiden. I reminded myself that I couldn’t necessarily blame him for his reaction.