The War of Two Queens (Blood And Ash Series Book 4)
The War of Two Queens: Chapter 32

Casteel

I watched Poppy drag the washcloth down my arm, wiping away soapy residue, my attention rapt. Obsessed.

The shirt that had been given to her slipped down once more, baring a creamy shoulder. She’d battled that sleeve since she’d put the tunic on, and for once, I was glad she was losing a war.

There was a freckle on that shoulder. I’d never noticed it before. Just below the delicate bone. It played peekaboo through the strands of her hair, which were now free of the braid and falling in a riot of loose waves and half-formed curls.

Poppy had changed.

The sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks had darkened from her time spent in the sun. Her hair had grown, those still-damp ends from the quick bath she’d taken nearly reaching the curve of her ass. Her face had slimmed slightly. I didn’t think anyone else would have noticed, but I did, and it made me think that she hadn’t been eating well. And that…

I couldn’t think about that without wanting to tear down the walls around us. The kind mortals who’d sheltered us didn’t deserve that, so I focused on her eyes.

Every time the thick fringes of her lashes lifted, it felt like the whole damn house shifted.

Her eyes were like they’d been when we dreamed of each other—spring green pierced by wisps of luminous silver. And they had stayed like that since I’d found myself again.

But the change in her was more than physical. There was a stillness about her now that had never been there before. Not exactly a calmness since there was still some frenetic energy about her, as if her mere presence influenced the air around her. But something about her was deep and settled now. A confidence? An awakening? I didn’t know. Whatever it was, she was the most beautiful being I’d ever seen.

I hadn’t taken my eyes off her for longer than it took to blink. Bad shit came when I did. A sense of surrealness—or a panicked fear that this was some sort of hallucination. It had happened when I stepped into the adjoining bathing chamber to relieve myself and make use of the razor and cream that had been brought in with the water. It had been dark. No electricity. The dim light from the bedchamber did nothing to shatter the darkness. For a moment, I thought I was back there in that cell. I felt the shackles at my wrists and ankles. My throat. I’d locked up, one hand on the sink basin, and the other clutching the handle of the razor.

That was how Poppy had found me.

She’d brought the lamp inside, placing it by the vanity. Nothing was said. She’d just wrapped her arms around my waist, pressing herself against my back, and she’d remained that way until the panicked fear abated. Until I’d finished shaving away the itchy bristles of growth.

I couldn’t believe that she was here.

I couldn’t believe I was here. Pieced back together. Almost whole. My memories had gaps. Dark voids caused by the bloodlust. But I was sitting in a hip tub, nestled in the corner of a chamber, under what I could’ve sworn was a painting of the Skotos Mountains.

While Poppy had gently coaxed me into the warm, clean water, insisting on being the one to wash away the filth, she’d shared with me all that had occurred. The events in Massene. The old woman with the stolen Primal essence. What had gone down in Oak Ambler. Tawny’s strange recovery and the truth to who Vikter was. What she’d borne witness to beneath Castle Redrock and at the Temple of Theon. What Isbeth had told her about her father. The reason Malik had remained. I knew some of it. Some, I didn’t. Much of it left my damn chest aching, and anger simmering in my gut, ruining the thick, herb-laden stew that had been brought in.

I hated the guilt I saw skittering across her face. The lingering pain. I knew my Queen could stand on her own. I was here because of her strength. Her courage. But I should’ve been there to shoulder some of the weight I knew she bore.

She hadn’t been alone, though.

I had to keep reminding myself of that. It was the only thing keeping me from descending into a different kind of bloodlust. She had support. Kieran had been with her. As well as others, but Kieran…yeah, knowing she had him was how I kept the building rage in check.

How proud I was of her—of all she had accomplished—also helped. Poppy was fucking extraordinary.

And I had been nothing but a monster chained to a wall when she came for me, unable to do a damn thing to help assist in our escape. Pressure settled on my chest. I’d been a liability. The dangerous, weak link.

Fuck. That was a hard truth to swallow.

“You know,” Poppy said, drawing me from my thoughts as she lowered my right hand into the water. “Those breeches you destroyed?” Her startlingly strange and beautiful eyes lifted to mine as she picked up my left arm and set about wiping the suds away. “They were the only pair of pants I have.”

Some of the tightness eased from my chest. No doubt she had sensed the tangled emotions behind where my thoughts had gone. “I would say I’m sorry, but I’d be lying.”

A wry grin appeared as she drew the washcloth over my upper arm. “I appreciate the honesty.”

I watched her head tilt. The wine-hued strands slipped to the side, revealing the puckered, red puncture wounds on her throat. The sight of them caused a dual reaction, which resulted in my head and dick being completely at odds with each other.

Something I wasn’t entirely accustomed to since they were usually on the same page when it came to Poppy.

“Had you ever heard of viktors before?” she asked.

“No, but given the way Vikter was with you, it makes sense.” The man had behaved as if he’d been Poppy’s father and hadn’t been all that impressed by me. Made me wonder exactly how much the viktors knew and saw.

“Tawny said that he was proud of me,” she whispered.

I stilled. “Did you think he wasn’t?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice hoarse. “I hoped so.”

“He had to be, whether or not he knew what his purpose was as a viktor or not,” I insisted quietly. “There’s no way he couldn’t have been.”

She nodded.

I leaned over to press a kiss to the top of her forehead. “That man—or whatever he was—loved you as if you were his own flesh and blood. He was proud of you.”

Poppy blinked rapidly, giving me a soft smile. “Sit back. I’m not done with you.”

“Yes, my Queen.” I did as she ordered, and she inched closer, her brow pinching with a quick wince. My stomach dropped. “Did I hurt you?”

Her eyes rose to mine again. “You’ve already asked me that question five times.”

“Seven times, actually.” I only had brief memories of feeding from her—at her wrist and then at her throat. I remembered enough to know I hadn’t been gentle. The larger-than-normal wounds on her throat were proof of that. “Did I?”

Poppy saw what I stared at. “Your bite barely hurt.”

She’d said that before, and I knew she lied. I also knew I hadn’t exactly taken care with all that had come after. “You winced.”

“It wasn’t that. Just a bad pain in my temple or jaw. Nothing to do with you. It’s already gone.”

I wasn’t sure I believed her. “I was rough with you. Then and after.”

The washcloth stilled just above my wrist. “I enjoyed every moment of that and then some.”

A rush of satisfaction hit me, but there was no ego-fueled smugness. Another burgeoning worry took shape as my mind continued putting itself together. Poppy had shared a lot with me, but there was one thing she hadn’t mentioned. “Did you ever find out if you need to feed?”

Poppy sat back, still holding my arm as she nodded. “Apparently, all gods have to feed—supposedly not as much as Atlantians, and a god doesn’t have to feed off another god or an Atlantian. Any blood works, as long as it’s not a draken’s.” She paused, her brow pinching. “It’s not really clear how often I need to feed. Using my abilities will speed up the need, as will injuries.”

“Then you need to feed.” I started to lift my wrist to my mouth—

Poppy stopped me, her grip on my arm warm. “You need every drop of blood you have. You need even more blood.”

“I took a lot, Poppy.”

“I feel fine right now,” she said, tilting forward once more, her gaze steady on mine. “And I did have to feed a couple of days ago, right before we hit the road between Three Rivers and Whitebridge. I’d started to feel the need to feed. I…I had to.”

“Kieran,” I said, my eyes searching hers. “You fed from Kieran.”

Her head cocked to the side. “Why am I not surprised that you somehow knew that?”

Knowing that Kieran had given her this aid brought nothing but relief. He would’ve made sure she was comfortable and safe, and that there wasn’t even an ounce of shame to be felt. Gods, I owed him so much. “I couldn’t see you going to anyone else. You’re close to Delano and Vonetta—and the others—but Kieran is…it’s different with him.”

“It is,” she whispered, bending and kissing the damp skin of my arm. “I also figured he was the one person you wouldn’t mind feeding me.”

“I wouldn’t care who you used if you had that need.”

She raised a brow. “Really?”

“Really.”

“So, if I had decided to feed from Emil?” she suggested, and my jaw clenched. “Or Naill—”

“Okay. You’re right,” I admitted. No matter who she sought aid from, I never would’ve held it against her. The other person? Thoughts and prayers for their ass, though. “Kieran is the only one.”

Poppy laughed softly. “I waited for as long as I could because I didn’t want to do it with anyone but you.”

“Because of my selfish-as-hell nature, I appreciate the sentiment. But, Poppy, I wouldn’t want you to wait. You know that, right?” I searched out her gaze. “Your well-being trumps my illogical jealousy.”

“I know. I really do.” Her teeth dragged across her lower lip. “It was different than feeding from you. I mean, I could read Kieran’s memories, but it wasn’t like it is between us.”

“It’s not always like it is with us.” I reached over with my right arm, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “It’s not always so intense. We can control the emotions surrounding the feeding to a certain extent, just like we can make the bite something one should fear or crave.”

“I was wondering about that,” she admitted with a grin. “If you felt like that when you fed from others. You know, for…knowledge purposes.”

“Yes, for knowledge.” Smiling, I trailed my fingers down her cheek.

Her chin lifted. “Why else would I be asking, if not for educational purposes, Cas?”

I trembled. There was no stopping that reaction. “You shouldn’t call me that.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Why? You like it when I do.”

“That’s the problem. I like it too much,” I told her, and she smiled, wide and bright. And, gods, I could live on those smiles. Thrive. “There’s still a lot we need to talk about.”

A whole hell of a lot.

Poppy’s smile faded just a bit as I dropped my right hand back to the side of the tub. “I know. I figure we can talk about how we’re going to get out of Carsodonia once Kieran and your brother return.”

My brother.

I tightened my grip on the rim of the tub. He and Kieran were out there while the mist still blanketed the city, making sure no one nearby had alerted the Crown of any suspicious occurrences.

Poppy glanced at the door. “I hope they don’t harm each other.” Her brow creased. “Too badly.”

“You worry for Malik?” I raised a brow. “You believe him?”

“I believe he spoke the truth about why he stayed. I tasted his emotions. He loves her. But there was also a lot of guilt and agony under that. I don’t know if that’s for what he’s done by staying here or something else.”

A little bit of empathy crept into me. Not a lot. I couldn’t feel sorry for him or anything until I knew for sure that he wasn’t playing us.

Until I knew if I’d have to kill him or not.

Beyond that, I didn’t know what to think. I wanted to believe that love drove Malik’s choices, but the knowledge that he’d chosen the Revenant over his family and kingdom didn’t sit well with me.

Neither did the knowledge that I would’ve done the same for Poppy.

But this Revenant…

Poppy’s sister.

How did she factor into all of this?

And how in the hell was I going to tell Poppy about her?

Poppy resumed trailing the cloth over my hand, along the golden marriage imprint. Her movements stilled once more. “Does it still hurt?” she whispered.

I looked down to see that she stared at what remained of my finger. The infection was gone. Thanks to Poppy’s blood, new skin, now a glossy pink, stretched over the once exposed bone and tissue.

And maybe Malik’s aid.

What the fuck ever.

“What hurts is knowing that you knew it was done.”

Pressing her lips together, she shook her head as her eyes closed briefly. “I should’ve been the last thing you were worried about.”

“You will always be the first thing I worry about.”

A visible tremor shook her as she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the knuckle. Placing my hand back into the water, she draped the cloth over the rim of the tub. She reached behind her neck, lifting the golden chain and the ring. “This is yours. It belongs with you.” Her eyes lifted to mine, bright and mesmerizing. “Can you wear it on your right hand?”

I cleared my throat, but it was still scratchy. “I can wear it wherever you want me to.”

“Wherever?” she teased, even while her fingers trembled as she worked the clasp on the chain.

“Wherever you want,” I affirmed. “On any finger or toe of your choosing. I can have it pierced to my nipple. Or have it melted into a bolt and pierced in my cock—actually, you might enjoy that.”

Poppy’s gaze flew to mine. “In your…cock?”

Said cock hardened at the sound of her saying that, at how her lips parted around the word. I nodded.

Her cheeks pinkened as she tipped forward. “That’s possible?”

“It is.”

“Wouldn’t that piercing hurt to have done?”

“Probably hurts like the fires of the Abyss.”

She glanced down at the ring. A moment passed. “And…and why would I find that enjoyable?”

Gods.

I loved her curiosity. “I’ve heard that many find the rub of the ball that holds the bolt in place to be very pleasurable.”

“Oh.” She drew in a deep breath. “And does the wearer of such a piercing find it pleasurable?”

“Oh, yeah.” I grinned as the color in her cheeks spread down her throat.

“Interesting,” she murmured, her brow creasing once more. I would’ve given anything to know what she was thinking. But she lifted the ring. “I think your pointer finger on your right hand will do.” A small grin appeared. “For now.”

I chuckled roughly. “For now.”

She rose onto her knees as I offered her my right hand. My chest seized. Never would’ve thought I could go from talking about cock piercings to being choked up in under a minute, but here I was. Throat clogged, I watched her slide the ring onto my right pointer finger, the gold warm from being so close to her body. A feeling of completeness surged in seeing the ring there.

A little bit of renewal.

Her beautiful eyes glimmered as they held mine. “You…you keep asking if I’m okay, but are you?”

My chest clenched again, but the feeling was colder and more brutal. In a second, I tasted the bitter panic of being trapped—chained and unable to do anything to fight back effectively.

To be of any aid to Poppy.

“Cas,” she whispered.

A ragged breath left me as I threaded my fingers with hers. “I think I need to work on rebuilding those mental shields around you.”

“I’m not trying to read your emotions.” Poppy pursed her lips. “Okay. That’s a lie. I am. I know I shouldn’t. It’s just that… I don’t know what you went through, and I saw the marks on your body. The cuts. There were so many.”

“They took my blood,” I told her, gaze following hers to our joined hands. “Daily for a while. They put it in these vials. I assumed it was being used for the Revenants, but they stopped doing it a couple of days before you arrived.”

“Isbeth might’ve been using it for the Revenants, but I think she could’ve been using it for the Royal Blessing.” She, too, stared at our hands, and a long moment passed. “Did she…did they treat you like they had before?”

My chest burned as I lifted my gaze to her face. “No one touched me this time. Not like that.”

A shuddering breath left her. “I’m relieved to hear that, but it doesn’t make any of what was done better. Not when she kept you in that place. You had bite marks on your leg. You’d been starved—” Cutting herself off, she inhaled deeply. When her eyes lifted, I saw that the silver wisps of eather had become luminous. “I know you’re going to tell me that you’re okay. That you’re fine. And I know you’re strong. You’re the strongest person I know, but they hurt you.”

She bent, kissing the knuckle below the ring. The feeling of her lips beat back the threatening chill. “You once told me that I didn’t always have to be strong when I was with you. That it was safe for me not to be okay,” she said, and the muscles in my neck cramped. “You told me that it was your duty as my husband to make sure I knew that I didn’t have to pretend. Well, it’s my duty as your wife to make sure you know that, too. You’re my shelter, Cas. My roof and my walls—my foundation. And I am yours.”

A jagged knot filled my throat as I found myself staring at the painting of the mist-shrouded mountains. The inclination to tell her that I was fine was there. It’s what I’d done the last time when my parents or anyone asked. Even Kieran. Even when lying to him was pointless. I didn’t want any of them to worry. They’d already spent enough time doing that. And I didn’t want to put that on Poppy. She already carried enough.

But I didn’t have to pretend with her.

Not anymore.

I was safe with her.

“There was a time that I feared I would never hear you say my name outside of a dream.” The words were hard and rough, but I forced them out. “It wasn’t that I feared you wouldn’t come for me. I knew you would. That knowledge also scared the hell out of me, but it was the darkness of the cell. The hunger. The knowledge that, eventually, it would get me, and I would break. Fracture again. I wouldn’t even recognize my name to know that it was you who spoke it. So, yeah, I’m not…” I swallowed. “I’m not completely fine, but I will be.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “You will be.”

Neither of us said anything for several long moments. Finally, I looked at her, and all I saw was devotion in her eyes.

To be on the receiving end of that? It made my fucking heart skip.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Stop saying that. You do.”

“I truly don’t.” I lifted our hands, pressing a kiss to the top. “But I’ll make sure that I am worthy from now on.”

“Then I’ll make sure that you realize you already are.”

A faint grin pulled at my lips. “I should probably get out of this tub. Kieran has to be back by now.” And there were things I needed to tell her. Things I needed to remember.

“He is.” Slipping her hand free, she reached for a towel that had been placed nearby. “He told me through the notam. Just a couple of minutes ago. I think they’re giving us space.”

“I have to admit,”—gripping the sides of the tub, I rose. Water ran off me, falling in drips—“I’m kind of jealous of that notam thing.”

“Yeah, well, I have that, but you all have the fangs, the special hearing, seeing, and smelling.” She rose, too, and my attention immediately got caught on the hem of that shirt and how it fluttered around those thighs, barely covering the thick curve of her ass. “So, I think it’s only fair that I have this.”

I dragged my gaze upward. “I bet you’re still disappointed about not being able to shift into anything.”

“I really am.” She drew the towel over my arms and then down my chest.

“I can dry myself.”

“I know,” she said as she motioned for me to step out of the tub. “But I am feeling rather helpful right now.”

“Uh-huh,” I murmured, watching her drag the cloth along my hip and over my lower stomach, where the muscles stood out far more starkly than they should have.

I needed more of that stew and a lot of protein. Her blood would help fill me out, but some of the weight I would have to pack on the old-fashioned way.

The towel rasped over my back and then lower as Poppy walked around me. And then, I stopped thinking about all the calories I needed to consume.

Poppy was suddenly on her knees before me, moving the slightly rough towel down my left leg. Her head…fuck, it was right there. Inches from my dick, and there was no way I could ignore that. My throat dried. She guided the towel back up, along the inside of my leg, slowly. Up and up, she went. A tight tremor of anticipation shot through me. The back of her hand brushed my sac, and my entire body clenched.

She moved onto the other leg, her features utterly serene. Innocent. As if she had no idea what that touch had done. Bullshit. She knew. The small curve at the corner of her lips told me so as she started the slow, torturous climb back up my leg.

“Poppy,” I warned, knowing damn well that if she continued, talking would be the last thing on my mind. Hell, it was already quickly becoming that.

“Hmm?” She drew the towel along the back of my thigh.

“I’m sure you’re not unaware—” I clamped my jaw shut as her hand brushed between my legs once more.

“Unaware of what?” she asked, her breath caressing the flesh of my thigh.

“Of what you’re doing,” I said hoarsely.

Dropping the towel, she placed her hands on the sides of both of my legs and looked up at me. Well, not all the way up. Poppy’s gaze didn’t go past my rigid length. Her stare. The way her lips parted. Her flushed cheeks. None of that helped keep my thoughts on track.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” she said, trailing her hands up the sides of my legs.

“And what exactly are you doing?”

“Showing you just how deserving you are.”

I opened my mouth, but she stretched higher and pressed her lips to the old scar just inside my hip. The brand that never quite faded.

That kiss.

It wrecked me.

And she didn’t stop there. Those soft lips trailed a path across my thigh. I was rock-hard, and she hadn’t even touched me yet. Not really. The reaction had nothing to do with the absence of sex the last several weeks. I’d gone far, far longer than that. This punch-to-the-gut kind of lust had everything to do with her.

Poppy drew back just enough for me to see the blush on her nose and cheeks as she curled her fingers around the base of my dick. Choking on her name, I almost came right there.

Fractured green-and-silver eyes met mine as she drew her hand down my length. “I love you, Cas.”

“Always?” I bit out.

“And forever.” Her voice thickened as she slid her palm along me slowly. “Because you’re worthy.”

I trembled, my hands opening and closing at my sides. A faint sheen of sweat broke out over my forehead as she moved her palm down my length again. Her strokes were slow and tentative. And her mouth…godsdamn. Her hot little pants of breath teased the head of my cock. She hadn’t even taken me in her mouth yet, but I could already feel the familiar coiling at the base of my spine, that deep tightening. “I’ll believe anything you say right now.”

Her laugh was light, teasing the head of my dick. “Believe it. Because if you weren’t?” That hand kept moving, slow and steady and hot. “I wouldn’t be on my knees before you.”

“No. You wouldn’t be,” I gasped, unable to keep my hands at my sides. I touched her cheek. Threaded my fingers through her silky hair. “It’s funny, though.”

“What is?”

“I may be the one standing, but it’s me who is still bowing to you.”

Her smile was wide, crinkling the skin at the corners of her eyes. And, gods, those smiles…they were too rare. Too exquisite.

“Deserving,” she whispered.

And then she took me into her mouth.

My shout was rough, echoing through the small chamber. Probably the whole damn building. I didn’t care. The entire world centered on the feel of her mouth, the slide of her tongue as she kept moving her hand, working me with artful perfection.

But I kept myself still. I didn’t tug on her hair. I didn’t fuck her mouth. I didn’t—

Poppy took me deep—deeper than I thought she would—and sucked. My hips jerked. My hand tightened in her hair. I nearly rose to the tips of my toes. “What godsdamn chapter in Miss Willa’s diary was that in?”

Her laugh was a hum that nearly broke me, and I could sense the rapid increase in her pulse and breath. She enjoyed this, finding pleasure in pleasuring me. And that was its own powerful aphrodisiac. My hips moved then. I couldn’t stop myself. My hand flattened on the back of her head. My head falling back, I shook. Nothing. Nothing in any realm compared to her. I was close, the tightening becoming taut. My thrusts were less shallow, less gentle.

Groaning, I pulled out of her mouth. Her hand on my hip firmed, but I gave her no choice. I hauled her onto her feet and brought my mouth to hers. She tasted of the fruity drink that had been served with the stew. I backed her up, lifting the borrowed tunic.

“You should be proud of me,” I said when we parted long enough for me to pull the shirt over her head. “I didn’t tear this off.”

Her laugh was my personal sun. “Very proud.”

I guided her to the bed, visions of settling between those plump thighs and sinking deep into her dancing in my head. But Poppy placed her hands on my shoulders and turned me.

Pushing me down to my ass and then onto my back, she climbed onto the bed, her knees on either side of my hips, straddling me.

“Fuck,” I gasped, my heart pounding.

Her hair fell forward, sliding against my chest as she reached between us, palming my cock. I didn’t even know what I said when I felt her wet heat against the head of my cock. Could’ve been a prayer. My hands went to her hips, steadying her as she began to lower herself, inch by sweet, hot inch. I feared this would be over before she even fully seated herself.

“Gods,” she breathed, stiffening as our pelvises met. The fingers on my chest dug in. A soft, feminine sound left her as she withdrew slowly, to where only the tip was left, and then slid back down.

Poppy continued the breathtaking rise and fall, finding her rhythm and angle. Her back arched as she rocked above me.

I liked control. Had always been that way. But with Poppy…watching her find her way, watching her live and love without shame? Nothing was more powerful. More earth-shattering. I’d gladly give up control over and over for this—for her.

But then she began to really move.

Faster. Harder. I met her movements, fingers sinking into the flesh of her hips. The feel of her was slick and tight as she squeezed my dick. The sight of her—her full breasts, the curve of her waist, the creases at her thighs, and all that flushed flesh—was my undoing.

Poppy gripped my left wrist, drawing the hand that’d once had the ring from her hip to her breast—her heart. Her fingers threaded with mine.

She owned me.

Heart and soul.

As she rode me harder, I slid a hand to where we were joined. I found that bundle of nerves, pressing down with my thumb.

“Oh, gods,” she cried out, and I felt her spasm around me as she jerked.

“I think you like that.” I groaned as she ground against me.

“I do,” she panted. “A lot.”

Her breathy moans and my grunts filled the dimly lit chamber, joining the slick sounds of our bodies coming together. My fangs throbbed. I wanted her vein, but I’d already taken too much. So, I focused on how she fit as if I were made for her. How she moved over me with wild abandon and all the love and trust she gave to me. Was always giving me.

I wanted to stay deep inside her for hours—lose myself in her. But she was in me, under my skin, and wrapped around my heart as tightly as she was around my cock.

Bracing herself, she leaned forward, curling her hand under my head. She brought my mouth to her breast. To the hard nipple and the two puncture wounds I’d left behind earlier. I closed my mouth over the hardened nub.

“Feed,” she whispered against the top of my head, her hips rolling. “Bite. Please.”

I don’t know which of her words snapped my restraint. It was probably the please. My lips peeled back, and I sank my fangs into the marks I’d already left behind. She jerked in my arms, crying out as her body contracted around mine. Her blood hit my tongue. Warm. Thick. Ancient. I swallowed greedily and drank deeply, taking her into me. Her blood was lightning in my veins. Pure power wrapped in jasmine and cashmere. The way she clamped around my dick was my undoing. The breathy “Cas” that left her lips. Her blood hitting my throat, my gut. All of it sent me over the edge.

The powerful release rolled down my spine. I folded my arms around her, pinning her to my chest as I thrust up, lifting both our bodies from the bed. I released my fangs from her flesh and found her mouth, kissing her as I came. The release fucking destroyed me in the best way. Wave after wave, it seemed never-ending, leaving me stunned by its intensity.

By everything I felt for her.

It took quite some time before my pulse slowed. I kept her where I wanted her—on top of me. In the quiet moments that followed, I realized something. My fingers stilled in her hair as my eyes opened. “Poppy?”

“Yeah?” she murmured, her cheek plastered to my chest.

“I haven’t been on that herb,” I told her, a real fucked-up mess of conflicting emotions firing off. “The one that prevents pregnancy.”

“I figured,” she said, yawning. “I started taking precautions.”

My brows flew up. “Was that in the diary, too?”

Poppy laughed. “No. I asked Vonetta,” she said, lifting her head. I decided I really needed to thank Netta. “She told me what to take since a baby Casteel would be the last thing we need—at least, at the moment.”

Confusing-as-fuck emotions slammed into me, a mix of cold, hard terror and sweet anticipation. “What about a baby Poppy?” I brushed her hair back. “With deep red hair, freckles, and green-and-silver eyes?”

“My eyes are still like that?”

“Yep.”

She sighed. “I don’t know why they’re like that, but your question? Are you being serious?”

“Always.”

“You are not always serious.”

“I am now.”

“I don’t know. I mean…yes?” Her nose scrunched. “One day, far, far, far, far from now. Yes.”

“When we’re not in the middle of a war, for example?” I smiled up at her. “And I’m ready to not be the center of your attention?”

“More like when I’m confident that I won’t accidentally leave the child somewhere I shouldn’t.”

I chuckled, lifting my head and kissing her. “Later.”

“Later,” she agreed.

Lowering my head, I tucked her hair back. “I want you to feed.”

“You probably need to feed again.”

“Probably, but that’s not why I want you to feed. I don’t want you to grow weak,” I told her. “Not ever, but especially not when we’re in the middle of Carsodonia.”

She nodded after a moment. “I’ll see if Kieran is willing—”

“He’ll be willing.”

Poppy frowned. “You sound a little confident for it not being your blood.”

“He’ll be willing,” I repeated, thinking she really had no idea when it came to Kieran and what he would or wouldn’t willingly do for her.

“Whatever,” she muttered, dropping her chin to my chest. “We should get up. We need to come up with a plan. Deal with Malik. Figure out how to get out of here. Hopefully, find out something about Tawny’s current condition. Come back. Kill that bitch,” she said, and my brows rose. “And then I need to free my father. I sort of promised Nektas I’d do that. You met him briefly in his draken form,” she continued with another yawn, and my brows rose even higher. “My father’s got to be in Carsodonia—”

“He’s at Wayfair.” The shadows surrounding one of the dark voids in my mind shattered. “Isbeth said he was.”

Her eyes widened. “How did you…?”

“After you told me he was the cave cat, I goaded her into talking about him. Stabbed her in the chest, too.” I grinned as I remembered. “Didn’t kill her, but I bet it hurt.”

Poppy blinked. “You stabbed her?”

“Yeah, with a Craven bone.”

“I wish I’d seen that.” Her eyes were wide once more. “I love you so very much.”

I laughed at the utter wrongness of that. “Back to your father? She said the cave cat was where he was always kept.”

“Where he was always kept,” she murmured as I smoothed my thumb along her jaw. “The chambers under Wayfair, down the main hall.” She dipped her head suddenly, kissing me. “She said he wasn’t in Wayfair.”

“She lied.”

Poppy shivered. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” I kissed her. “You think you can find him again?”

Lifting her head, she nodded. “I think so, but getting into Wayfair again…”

“We’ll figure it out,” I assured her. “And we will tackle that daunting list of things you spoke of. Together. Except for killing Isbeth. You want that? It’s all yours,” I said, and she smiled in a way that should’ve concerned me but only made me harden.

“By the way, my list wasn’t even over,” she told me. “There’s more stuff. The Ascended. The people. The kingdoms. Your parents.”

Anger sparked. She’d told me what my mother and father had said about everything. “I really don’t want to think about them at the moment.”

Her gaze lifted to mine. “I am still thoroughly angry with them, but they…they love you. They love both of you. And I think it was that love that became one of the reasons they never spoke the truth.”

“They fucked up.”

“Yeah, they did.”

“Big time.”

“I know, but there’s nothing we can do about that.”

“Don’t be logical,” I told her.

“Someone has to be.”

Reaching down, I squeezed her plump ass and was immediately fascinated by how the silver wisps in her eyes brightened in response. “That was slightly rude.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“Possibly,” I said, loving the small smile that appeared as we teased one another—the normalcy of it. Gods, I would never take it for granted. I hated to ruin it. But I had to. “I need to tell you something.”

“If it’s about your cock being a changeling, I know,” she said dryly. “I can feel it.”

A surprised laugh left me. “Believe it or not, it’s not that.”

“I’m shocked.” She yawned again, snuggling against my chest. “What is it?”

I opened my mouth, watching her. When she blinked, her eyes were slow to open and quick to close again. She was tired, and I doubted that she’d gotten much more sleep than I had over the last several weeks. Not only that, I had taken a lot of blood. She had to be exhausted.

I glanced at the small window. It was dark beyond the opening. Even if the mist was still thick, we wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight. Not with the Craven at the Rise. There was time.

There had to be.

Poppy needed to sleep and then feed. Those were the two most important things. Even more important than telling her about Millicent. And that wasn’t me avoiding telling her about the Handmaiden. I wouldn’t keep secrets from her ever again, no matter how badly I wanted to. Because I knew this would mess her up and was why she needed to be rested and fed. Strong. No one needed to learn this kind of news half-asleep and weakened.

“What?” Poppy asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “What did you want to tell me?”

I dragged my hand up her back and over the thick strands of her hair. I cupped the back of her head, keeping her cheek pressed to my chest. “Only that I love you,” I said, lifting enough to press a kiss to the top of her hair. “With my heart and my soul, today and tomorrow. I will never get enough of you.”

“You say that now…”

“Not in a hundred years.” I looked down at her, seeing a hint of a soft smile. A beautiful one. I could live on her smiles. They were that precious. Each one a godsdamn gift. I could exist on her laughter. The sound was that important. That life-altering. “Not in a thousand years. Never. Enough.”

She gave me a squeeze and then started to lift her head.

I stilled her. “I know. We need to get up, but just…let me hold you for a little bit. Okay? Just a few more moments.”

Poppy immediately relaxed, just like I knew she would upon the request. And just like I’d suspected, when her eyes closed once more, they didn’t reopen. She fell asleep, and I…I stared at the bridge of her nose, her parted lips, smoothing my hand through her hair as Millicent’s words broke free from the void.

She’ll die in your arms.

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