In an instant, I knew why Casteel favored this place. With just enough sunlight filtering through the cracks above to see by, the soothing, lulling sound of birds chattering, and the heady fragrance of lilacs climbing the walls, it was a mystical, private hideaway seemingly fashioned from the imagination—a place you could spend a lifetime.
Or at least I felt like I could stay here forever, enjoying all the little bubbles tickling my bare skin as the white-tipped foamy water rinsed away more than the dust from the road. It swept aside the fear of the magic in the mountains and washed away the lingering questions I had about myself, about what had happened when I touched Beckett, about my future, and about him.
I turned, stirring the gently churning water.
Casteel stood at the edge. He’d moved there quietly, so I had no idea how long he’d stood there, or what he saw. There was a hardness to the line of his jaw as he stared at me, and when he spoke, there was a roughness in his voice that hadn’t been there before. I saw hunger I’d mistaken for anger when we stood outside Vonetta’s house. “Do you find the springs to your liking?”
“I do.” I dragged my arms through the water, watching it fizz and bubble in response. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” Lifting my gaze back to him, I reached for the edge of my soaked braid. I began unknotting the plait as he tugged off one boot. “There are springs in Masadonia that Tawny and I snuck off to a time or two, but the water was cold, and we couldn’t stay in long. She would…” I sighed as a twinge of melancholy threatened my peace. “She would love this place.”
“You’re sad. I can hear it in your voice. I’m sorry that you miss her,” he expressed, removing his other boot. The socks followed. “I know how hard it is to be apart from those you care about.”
“You do.” And he did, far more than I did. Hair unbound, I let it lay over my shoulder. “But she is safe for now.”
“For now,” he agreed, reaching behind his head. He gripped the collar of his tunic and pulled it over his head and then down his arms, revealing the broad width of his shoulders first and then the delineated lines of his chest and the trim hardness of his stomach.
A different kind of nervousness than before rose within me and then abated as he tossed the cloth aside. He was undressing, and I should look away. I should feel embarrassed by his soon-to-be blatant nudity. But I didn’t avert my gaze as his hands dropped to the line of buttons on his breeches. Heat crept into my cheeks as he slid them down his hips. The way his body was angled gave only a tantalizing glimpse of sleek muscles. His pants landed with his tunic, and then he looked to where I waited.
Our gazes met and held, and I didn’t know what got into me, if it was the warm, bubbling water, the serene beauty of the lake and the dreamlike surrealism of being in Atlantia, or maybe it was the hunger he’d spoken of earlier. Whatever it was, I lowered my eyes and let myself look. My gaze drifted over his chest again, then down the coiled muscles of his stomach and over pale nicks and grooves. I got a little hung up on the indentations on either side of his hips and then my breath quickened.
He wanted me, shamelessly so. I didn’t understand how or why. He cared for me, but I was only partly beautiful. I was no seductress, and ill-experienced to boot, and he had only been drawn to me in the beginning because he needed me to free his brother. But he desired me. Even I knew that.
I forced my gaze lower, to the Royal Crest branded onto his skin, just below his hip. His hand drifted over the brand, halting as if he sought to hide it for a moment, and then rose over the numerous slices across his stomach. My gaze followed.
Anger rushed me. That kind of premeditated cruelty was disturbing. “I…” I started to apologize for what had been done to him, but I caught myself. My eyes met his once more. “I wish they could feel the same pain they inflicted upon you.”
A slight flicker of surprise lit his features. “Even your Queen, who cared for you so tenderly?”
My heart turned over heavily. “I don’t think I will ever be able to reconcile the Queen you knew and the one who cared for me. But, yes. Even her.”
His head cocked. “You mean that.”
I nodded, because I did.
A half-grin appeared. “So incredibly violent.”
This time, I didn’t even bother to correct him. “Perhaps a little.”
His deep, rich laugh echoed throughout the cavern, daring me to forget what had come to pass and what lay in wait, challenging me to take what I wanted.
I sank under the water, eyes closed. Bubbling, swishing liquid danced over my face and through my hair. What did I want? Him. I wanted his hands on me, washing away all the reasons why I shouldn’t. I wanted to feel his skin against mine, crowding out the world around us. I wanted the touch of his lips, chasing away any logical protests before they could form. I wanted his mouth on mine, kissing away the lies his lips once spoke. I wanted his hands on me, soothing away the sting of guilt and the feeling that I was betraying myself. I wanted to feel him inside me so I couldn’t feel anything but him. I wanted to be so completely devoured by him that there was no room for the fear that he would become a scar upon my sure-to-be-broken heart. Because…because what if Kieran was wrong? What if after Casteel accomplished what he wanted, when he fulfilled his end of the bargain, all that remained was lies and betrayals?
I wanted to believe we were heartmates in spite of everything that made that seem impossible.
I stayed underwater, desperately searching for strength and common sense. I stayed until my lungs burned. When I broke the surface, there was still nothing but want and need for him. Hands trembling, I scooped the hair back from my face as I blinked away the dampness clinging to my lashes and lost my breath, lost a little bit more of myself.
Casteel had entered the pool.
He stood several feet away, having already gone under the water himself. His midnight hair was slicked back from his face, and water sluiced down his chest. So much taller than me, the frothing water only reached just above his navel. He looked very much like I imagined a god would, the fractured rays of sunlight glistening off his damp skin.
His intense gaze snagged mine, and that sense of awareness from before returned, passing between us. It was like a strike of lightning, thickening the already balmy air.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, gliding through the water toward me.
“You have?” My pulse pounded everywhere.
He nodded. “I have.”
I had to crane my neck back as he stopped only a handful of inches in front of me. “Do I want to know what you’ve been thinking about?”
“You’ll probably say no.” He drifted forward, his movements graceful and purposeful, and I moved backward. “But that will be a lie.”
“How would you know?”
“I know a lie when I see one,” he replied, crowding me back against the smooth rock wall. “More importantly, I know when you lie.”
There was a catch in my breath as he placed his hands on the rock like he’d done earlier. Could he sense my desire? Even in all this water and under the potent scent of lilac? I pressed against the warm rock, thinking that it was impossible for my heart to beat any faster. “What are you thinking about?”
“My idea.” His breath coasted over my cheek. “You might be interested in it.”
“Doubtful,” I murmured.
“You haven’t even heard what it is yet, Princess.” Those lips grazed the curve of my jaw, and the edges of his damp hair touched my cheek, causing me to gasp. “Yeah, I definitely know you’ll be interested.”
Edginess swamped me as my head tipped back against the rock without conscious thought. “Why don’t you tell me what it is, and I will let you know if I’m interested?”
His chuckle was rough as one of his hands left the rock. My stomach hollowed as his fingers met the bare skin of my waist. “Only if you promise not to lie.”
“If you can tell when I’m lying—” A shaky breath left me as he shifted closer, his chest brushing mine with each breath he took. The contact sent a wave of shivers through me, tightening the tips of my breasts to almost painful points.
“What were you saying, Princess?” he asked, and I felt him smile against my cheek.
What was I saying? It took a moment for me to remember. “If you know I’m lying, why would it matter if I told the truth?”
“Because you know that the truth is important.” The hand left my waist, trailing down my hip, stirring the water. Bubbles danced over my legs, between them. A wicked feeling curled low in my core. “The truth is permission.”
My unfocused gaze crept over the cones of blue and purple blossoms. “Is it?”
“It is.” He paused. “Did you know that the bite, until it’s fully healed, becomes an erogenous zone? A point of pleasure? It can give you the same feelings as the bite. Almost. Did you know?”
I thought I did. “No.”
“Want me to show you?” he offered. “I know you’re a curious sort.”
“Yes,” I whispered, dizzy with anticipation.
“Remember, Princess. This is just to assuage your curiosity. Nothing more.”