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A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire(95)

By:Jennifer L. Armentrout


So did I, but what was real to us was different.

Heart thumping, I tilted my head back. My lips touched his as I said, “Since you’ll be home soon, I’m sure there are other beds you could visit that don’t require you to pretend. I’m sure they’re probably numerous. But you could always start with Gianna’s.”

Casteel went still, his hand halting its movements on my inner thigh, and then he lifted his head. “That cannot be a serious statement.”

“Did I sound like I was teasing?”

He rolled off me, and I caught myself before I did something irrational like stop him. I sat up, clutching the dagger as he left the bed so quickly, it was almost like he hadn’t even been there.

A bitter sensation hit my veins, and I closed my eyes. I’d gotten what I wanted—he was no longer in the bed. So why didn’t I feel relief?

“I can’t believe you really said that.”

My eyes flew open in disbelief. “You can’t?”

He was a shadow through the curtains. “Hell no, I can’t.”

I scrambled across the blanket, shoving the panel aside as I nearly toppled out of the bed. A thin line of blood trickled down his neck, even though the wound I’d inflicted had already healed.

Standing, I slammed the dagger onto the nightstand because there was a good chance I would use it. Especially when I turned to him and caught the slow perusal that moved from the tips of my toes all the way up the bare skin of my legs to the fluttery hem and the low neckline of the gown. Heated amber eyes met mine.

I gritted my teeth. “You were promised to another, Casteel.”

“Were you not listening when I made it very clear that it was a promise I never made?”

“I was listening very closely.”

“Apparently, not close enough.” Casteel’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at me. “You know, I’m glad you brought this up. I’d momentarily forgotten that this was something we needed to discuss. You really believed that I was already engaged to someone else, didn’t you?”

“Are you for real?” I choked, hands closing into fists. “Really?”

“Last time I checked, I was real.” He crossed his arms.

“Then why in the hell would you be surprised that I would think something like that? That you wouldn’t tell me? You and your wonderful history of lies and half-truths?”

The heat was gone from his gaze, replaced by a splash of surprise, and then his eyes narrowed again. “Here’s the whole truth, Poppy. Yes, I was expected to marry. I was expected by many, I’m sure. It was something my father had discussed for decades, but he never asked if it was what I wanted. Something you should be familiar with.”

I flinched. I was all too familiar with that. “I thought Atlantians rarely married if they weren’t in love.”

“They don’t. But as I’m sure you remember, my parents reign should’ve already come to an end. It should’ve happened decades ago. My father believed that perhaps if I married, I would stop searching for Malik and do what he thought was right. He knew that I cared for Gianna, that we were close, and thought she would be a good fit.”

Gianna. That name. It sounded rare and exquisite. If this was something discussed for actual decades, then there had to be a history between them, and the sudden hot burst in the back of my throat tasted like an emotion I had no right to claim. “Make a good Princess, you mean?”

“I imagine that she would, but to answer your question, I never really said anything about it because I didn’t want to hurt her or for her to feel as if I were rejecting her,” he said. “She doesn’t need that when it wasn’t like she pursued me on her own.”

But she had pursued him? I managed not to ask that question. “But you never said anything to me about her—about this expectation.”

“Honest to gods, Poppy, I’d forgotten about it until Alastir mentioned the obligations. Far more important things have occupied my mind. And I figured that my father would’ve surely let go of the idea,” he said. “At no point did I ever think that Alastir would bring it up like that. But he’s—” He shook his head. “You can decide not to believe me, but that’s the truth. And even if I had remembered, why would I mention a promise I never made to a woman, to another who I was trying to convince to marry me?”

“Maybe so I would’ve been prepared to hear that?” I nearly shouted. “So I didn’t sit there and think that you were engaged to someone else when you and I—” I cut myself off.

“While you and I did what, Poppy? Kissed. Gave each other pleasure? Had sex? Fucked? Made love?”

I sucked in a shrill breath. “Made love?” I whispered.

“I know that’s not what we were doing,” he said, his eyes flashing a frigid gold. “You wouldn’t think for one second that I was engaged to someone else if that was what we were doing.”

“I don’t understand how that has anything to do with this,” I admitted. “And I also don’t understand why you’re upset.”

“Because I cannot understand how you actually believed I could be engaged to someone else and do the things I’ve done with you.”

“You speak like I know everything about you!” I threw up my arms in frustration. “Just so you know, being able to sense emotions doesn’t tell me everything about a person. Yet you act like I know you. But I hardly do when you pick and choose what you will tell me and when. You only tell me what you want me to know, and I have to piece together what you have shared about yourself to form any opinions. And then I have to decide whether or not you’re lying!”

Casteel stepped forward. “Except for when I needed to feed, I have been nothing but honest with you since you learned who I really was.”

“Even if that is the case, I still don’t know you well enough to know what you would or would not do.”

“Have you even really tried?” he asked.

“I have!”

His brows flew up. “Really? Is that what you’re doing every time it looks like you want to ask something but force yourself to be quiet?”

“I do that because you either tell me nothing, or you tune me out when I ask about things!” I started to turn away and then whipped back around. “Tell me about the conversations you and your brother escaped? The ones that drove you to the caverns. Tell me why you refuse to take the throne even when you know your brother won’t be fit to do it when you free him,” I demanded. “Tell me why you thought it was okay in the first fucking place to kidnap me and use me as ransom before you even knew me!” Frustration crowded my throat. “Tell me why it never occurred to you to mention the Joining. Tell me about Gianna, Casteel. Does she care for you? Does she want this engagement? Do you care for her?”

He exhaled roughly, shaking his head, but I wasn’t done.

“Tell me why you never told me the truth about Spessa’s End until I was here? Was it because you didn’t trust me with that information? Tell me about her. The one you loved and lost because of the Ascended. Tell me what happened to her. Will you even say her name?” My chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, and my anger overwhelmed my senses, blocking out his emotions completely. “Tell me how you can stand to be near me when I represent the people who took so much from you. Tell me why you really came to my room tonight. Tell me something that matters! That is real.”

Casteel’s chest rose with a heavy breath. “You want something real?”

“Yes.”

“I came to your room tonight to learn if what you said at dinner was true. That I was the first person to ever see you. That I was the first thing you ever chose for yourself. That you chose me when you knew me as Hawke, and even after you learned the truth, you still chose me,” he growled, his eyes luminous. “I came here tonight to learn if you really felt like you were betraying Vikter and Rylan, all the others and yourself. I came here to see if that’d changed. Was all of that real, or were you just pretending?”

I took a step back, entirely too exposed, and it had nothing to do with the ridiculous nightgown. I hadn’t expected him to go there. I wasn’t sure why, but I hadn’t.

He shook his head as he barked out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah. Silence. As usual. That’s why there was never a reason to tell you any of those things you’ve demanded from me.”

I stared up at him, hands and arms trembling. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Everything,” he bit out between clenched teeth. “I want everything.”

A shiver broke out over my skin. “I…I don’t understand what that means,” I whispered. And inexplicably, the back of my throat burned. Apparently, I hadn’t cried out all the tears I had to give because they were now threatening to break free again. “I don’t understand any of this. Not you. Not me. How I’m supposed to feel. How I’m supposed to forget everything. I don’t—” Pressing my lips together, I smoothed fingers over my face, over the scars he’d kissed. I dropped my hands. “I don’t understand.”