The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood And Ash Series Book 3)

Casteel’s chest rose with a deep breath. “What I know is that I took what was left of the blood in your body. And when I felt your heart stop,” he said, clearing his throat, “I gave you mine. It was my blood that restarted your heart and kept it beating, and it was my blood that fed your body. There isn’t a drop of mortal blood in you.”

My lips parted as I tried to wrap my head around what he was saying—and what it meant.

“And that is not all I know,” he continued, and a fine tremor danced through my body. “You…you don’t feel mortal to me.”

“You don’t feel that way to me either,” Kieran added. “You don’t smell mortal any longer.”

“What…what do I feel like? What do I smell like?” I asked, and Kieran looked like he didn’t want to answer that question. “Do I smell more like death?”

He blinked slowly. “I wish I’d never said that.”

“Do I?” I demanded.

Kieran sighed. “You smell of more power. Absolute. Final. I’ve never smelled anything like it.”

“You don’t feel like an Atlantian or an Ascended,” Casteel said, curling his fingers around my chin and guiding my eyes to his. “I’ve never felt anything like you before. I don’t know if that means you feel like a deity. My parents would know. Maybe even Jasper, but he was very young when he was around any of the deities so I’m not sure about him.”

Before I could demand that he find Jasper immediately, he continued, “And I don’t even know if you will continue to need blood.”

Oh, gods.

“I hadn’t even thought of that.” My newly restarted heart was going to give out on me. Vamprys needed blood—mortal or Atlantian—nearly every day, while an Atlantian could go weeks without feeding. I didn’t know about deities and the gods. Wasn’t sure if they needed blood or not. No one had really specified that, nor had I even thought of it. “Do deities and gods need blood?”

“I don’t think so,” Casteel answered. “But the deities were guarded when it came to their weaknesses and needs. The gods even more so. It’s possible.”

I bet his mother would know. But even if they needed blood, it truly didn’t matter. I was neither of those things.

“I don’t even know if I can think of that right now. Not because I find it repulsive or anything…”

“I know. It’s just different, and it’s a lot to add on top of a lot. But we will figure it out together.” He tucked a strand of hair back from my face. “So, I don’t know if you’re immortal or not, Poppy. We’ll have to take that question day by day.”

Immortal.

Living thousands and thousands of years? I couldn’t process it. I couldn’t even fully comprehend it when I had been the Maiden and believed I would go through an Ascension. The idea of living for hundreds of years had frightened me then. A lot of that had to do with how cold and untouchable the Ascended were. I knew that the Atlantians and the wolven weren’t like that, but it was still a lot to wrap one’s head around.

And if I ended up immortal, Casteel wasn’t, even though he could live like a hundred or more mortal lifetimes before he truly began to age. He still would. He would eventually die. And if I was something…else, I wouldn’t.

I shut down the unnecessary panic so I could freak out about it another day—like maybe after I learned if I truly was immortal.

I nodded, feeling rather logical at the moment.

“Okay,” I said, taking a nice deep and slow breath. “We’ll take that day by day.” Something occurred to me then, and I looked at Kieran. “You’re going to be happy to hear this. I have a question.”

“I am so thrilled.” Only the light in Kieran’s eyes told me that he was glad I was alive and able to ask questions.

 “If the wolven were bonded to the deities, how did they not protect the deities during the war?” I asked.

“Many did, and many died in the process,” Kieran said, and my shoulders tightened. “Not all deities were killed, though. There were several left after the war, ones who had no interest in ruling. The wolven became very protective of them, but there was a rough period after the war where relations between the wolven and Atlantians were tense. According to our history, an ancestor on your husband’s side handled it.”

“What?” I looked at Casteel.

“Yep. It was Elian Da’Neer. He summoned a god to help smooth things over.”

“And the god answered?”

“It was Nyktos himself, along with Theon and Lailah, the God of Accord and War and the Goddess of Peace and Vengeance,” he told me, and I knew my eyes were wide. “They spoke with the wolven. I have no idea what was said, I’m not even sure if the wolven alive today know, but the first bonding between the wolven and an Atlantian came out of that meeting, and things calmed down.”

“Was your ancestor the first to be bonded?”

Casteel grinned as he nodded. “He was.”

“Wow.” I blinked. “I really wish we knew what was said.”

“Same.” His gaze met mine and he smiled again, but it didn’t reach his eyes as he studied me. “Poppy.”

“What?” Wondering if I was starting to glow, I glanced down at my skin and saw that it appeared normal.

“You’re not a monster,” he said, and that nice, deep breath got lodged in my throat. “Not today. Not tomorrow. Not an eternity from now, if that is the case.”

I smiled at his words, my heart swelling. I knew he believed that. I could taste his sincerity, but I also knew that when Alastir had spoken of the deities, he hadn’t been lying. He’d told the truth, whether or not it was the one he believed or the real story. Still, others alive today had been around the deities. They would know if it truly was because they had grown too old and too embittered—or if it was something else.

Casteel’s parents would know.

“I know it’s a little hard to move on from that topic,” Kieran began, and for some reason, I wanted to laugh at the dryness of his tone.

“No, I want to move on from that,” I said, pushing some hair back that had fallen once more. “I kind of need to so my head doesn’t explode.”

A wry grin appeared on Kieran’s face. “We wouldn’t want that to happen. It would be far too messy, and there are no more clean towels,” he said, and I laughed lightly. His pale eyes warmed. “Did Jansen speak of anyone else who could be involved? Cas compelled Alastir to tell us all he knew, but either he truly had no idea of who else was involved, or they were smart enough to make sure most of their identities weren’t known.”

“As if they had planned for someone to use compulsion?” I said, and they nodded. That was smart.

Pressing my lips together, I thought through the conversations with them. “No. No one by name, but both spoke as if they were a part of an…organization or something. I don’t know. I think Alastir mentioned a brotherhood, and all of the ones I saw, except for when I first arrived in the Chambers, were male—at least from what I could tell. I don’t know if they were truly a part of what Alastir spoke of or if they were somehow manipulated into their actions. But I do know that Alastir must have been working with the Ascended. He insinuated that they knew what I was capable of and that they planned to use me against Atlantia.” I told them what Alastir believed the Ascended would do, my mind always drudging up the memory of the Duchess.

“He figured that the Ascended would kill me when I attacked them, but he also had a backup plan. I didn’t get it when he said that I would never be free again. He must’ve given the others an order to kill me if the plan with the Ascended failed. He said he’d rather see a war among his people than have me…unleashed upon the people.”

“He’s a fucking idiot,” Casteel growled, rising from the bed. “Part of me wanted to give Alastir the benefit of the doubt at first in the Chambers. That he wouldn’t be that fucking stupid.”

“I don’t think any of us thought he’d do something like this,” Kieran said. “To go as far as to betray you—your parents. Kill Beckett? That’s not the man I know.”

Casteel cursed again, dragging a hand through his hair. Sadness settled on my shoulders. I couldn’t stop the image of Beckett in his wolven form, tail wagging as he bounded alongside us as we arrived in Spessa’s End. Anger mixed with the distress. “I’m sorry.”

Casteel turned to me. “What do you have to apologize for?”

“You respect and care for Alastir. I know it has to bother you.”

“It does, but it is what it is.” He tilted his head to the side. “But it would not be the first betrayal by one who shares his blood.”

An ache pierced my chest, even though he had his emotions locked down. “And that makes me even more sorry because you spent the last several decades protecting him from the truth.”

A muscle flexed in Casteel’s jaw, and a long moment passed before Kieran said, “I believe Alastir cares for your family, but he is loyal to the kingdom first and foremost. Then to Casteel’s parents, and then to himself and Malik. The only reason I can come up with for why he’d be involved in something like this is that he somehow realized what you were before anyone else did, and he knew what that meant for Atlantia and for the Crown.”

I hadn’t told them about Alastir’s involvement, and I didn’t think that was something that would’ve even come during compulsion. My stomach tightened, and the center of my chest hummed.

“It’s because he did know.”

Both of them stared at me.

“He was there the night the Craven attacked the inn. He was there to help my parents relocate to Atlantia,” I said, shaking my head. “They trusted him. Told him what I could do, and he knew then what it meant. He said that my parents knew what the Ascended were doing—that my mother was a…a Handmaiden.” I looked at Casteel to see that he’d stilled.

“I didn’t remember them until he mentioned them, but then I recalled seeing these women dressed in black that were often around Queen Ileana. I don’t know if that memory was true.”

Tension bracketed Casteel’s mouth. “The Handmaidens are real. They are the Blood Queen’s private guards and cohorts,” he said, and I shuddered. “I don’t know if your mother was one of them. I don’t see how she could have been. You said she didn’t defend herself, and those women were trained in every manner of death known.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t remember her fighting, but…” I had gotten those glimpses of her holding something in her hand that night. “I really don’t know, but Alastir said that he didn’t kill them. That something else led the Craven there. He said the Dark One did. Not you, but someone else.”

“That sounds like a load of bullshit,” Kieran muttered. “Also sounds like he got lucky with the Craven showing up to do his dirty work.”

I agreed, but again, there were those glimpses that lingered on the fringes of my consciousness. They were like smoke, though. When I tried to grab them, they slipped through my fingers.

I sighed. “Much of the way he behaved toward me was an act.” That hurt, because Alastir…he reminded me a little bit of Vikter. “He came to me more than once to ask if I wanted aid in escaping. That he wouldn’t be party to me being forced into a marriage. I thought that meant he was a good man.”

“It could’ve been a genuine offer at first,” Kieran said. “Who knows?”

“And his offer held an ulterior motive later?” I looked over at Casteel. “Do you not find it odd that he wanted you to marry his great-niece?”

“It wasn’t just him,” Casteel stated. “It was also my father.”

“And he is your father’s advisor,” I pointed out. “It’s just strange to me that he would want that when you were engaged to his daughter. Maybe it’s not that odd since so many years have passed, but I just…it’s weird to me.”

“It is odd but not unheard of.” His eyes squinted thoughtfully. “I can think of several examples of widows and widowers becoming involved with siblings of the deceased years later.”

I couldn’t even fathom that. Not because I would judge someone in that situation, but I would be so concerned that the other might worry they were a replacement. “I know that he would have more control over the Crown if you were to marry someone he had control of. That he was on the verge of losing whatever influence he had over Atlantia with you marrying me, and him knowing the truth of what I was. I don’t think for one moment that his motives were purely centered around protecting Atlantia. I think he wanted to maintain control, and he was virtually staging a coup. I told him I thought as much, too.”

A slow, shadowy smile crossed Casteel’s features. “Did you?”

“Yeah.” A tiny grin pulled at my lips. “He wasn’t too happy about that. Protested a lot.”

“Protested too much?” Kieran said.

I nodded. “I think he believed he was doing the right thing, but I think he wanted to keep his influence, and he wanted revenge.”

“That makes sense,” Casteel said. “My father wants retribution, just as Alastir does. Malik wouldn’t have wanted war, and he knew that I don’t either. Both my father and Alastir were impressed with what was done with Spessa’s End.”

“But Alastir didn’t believe it was enough,” I said, recalling how Alastir had responded. “He said it wasn’t enough for your father, either.”

“It hasn’t been,” Casteel admitted. “And Alastir wasn’t a fan of my plan to negotiate. He wants blood from Solis. My father wants the same. Alastir believes that my brother is a lost cause.” He folded his arms over his chest, and I felt the tangy spike of anguish. I started moving to him to take away his pain. I forced myself to stop because he had asked me once before not to do that. I clasped my hands together as he continued. “And perhaps he thought with Gianna as my bride, he would be able to wield his influence.”

Gianna.

I wasn’t sure what to think of the female wolven I’d never met or seen, as far as I knew. Casteel had never intended to marry her, and according to him, she hadn’t shown any interest in him, either. She wasn’t to blame for what his father or Alastir wanted. At least, that was what I kept telling myself. Alastir hadn’t mentioned her at all.

“Whatever his motivations were,” Kieran said, “it really doesn’t matter now.”

I supposed it didn’t. Because Casteel had found him, and I knew the wolven no longer breathed.

Casteel came forward then, kneeling in front of me. He took my hands, and as I stared down at him, I felt his anger at himself and his family. But his anger for what had been done to me, his concern, overshadowed it. “I’m sorry you had to find out the truth like that.” He picked up my hands, holding them in his. “I can’t imagine what you must have felt.”

“I wanted to kill him,” I admitted. He lowered his lips to my hands, kissing the top of both of them. “Well, Princess, do you remember when I said I would give you whatever you wanted?”

“Yeah?”

He smiled again, and this time, it was a smile that promised blood. “Alastir is still alive.”

“What?” I whispered.

“We made sure he was imprisoned before we headed to the Wastelands,” Kieran said. “We figured it was best to keep him alive just in case we didn’t get to you in time.”

Casteel’s gaze captured mine. “He’s all yours, Poppy.”

I learned that we would travel straight through the Skotos, not stopping. According to Kieran, we would reach the other side by nightfall because of how close we already were to the mountains. I was relieved to hear that as I didn’t look forward to spending another night in the mountains with the mist. The fact that I’d almost walked off a cliff the last time still haunted me, and I really didn’t need a repeat of that right now.

My mind was still skipping all over the place when Kieran left to ready the rest of the wolven and the Atlantians who remained—my memories jumping from one discovery to another. There were three things I was not thinking about as I made use of the small bathing chamber and returned to the sparse room.

The immortality thing and everything with that. Surprisingly, it wasn’t hard not to think about it because I didn’t feel any different than I had before the bolt struck me in the chest. And I didn’t think I looked any differently. There was no mirror in the bathing chamber to confirm, but Casteel hadn’t mentioned anything. I felt like myself.

I wasn’t allowing myself to think about the whole Queen thing, either, which was something neither Kieran nor Casteel had brought up, thank the gods. I would have probably ended up in the corner of the hunting cabin if they had.

The third thing, I was failing at not thinking about. Who Alastir claimed I was related to kept popping up in my head every couple of moments. I watched Casteel pull on a thick tunic. Did he know? Had Alastir told him when he captured the wolven? Maybe he hadn’t. I didn’t have to say anything. If Casteel didn’t know, that was probably for the best. Because how would he feel to know that he was married to the descendant of the King who’d nearly destroyed Atlantia? And his mother? My stomach twisted and churned. What would she think?

Or did she already know? Was that why she had asked Casteel what he’d brought home with him? King Valyn had fought beside him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know. Alastir had arrived before us, and even if his parents hadn’t been involved, they still could know who I was related to.

And his father… I remembered him shouting at Casteel to stop—to not give me his blood. His father had known what Casteel had been about to do, and gods, it was what Malec had done all those hundreds of years ago, turning his mistress Isbeth into the first vampry out of an act of desperation.

It was like a tragic replay of history, except I hadn’t become a vampry.

But King Valyn didn’t know that.

“Where is your father?” I asked as I picked up one of the boots Jasper had found.

“Emil and a few others escorted him back to Atlantia. They’re currently keeping him under watch,” he answered.

I looked up from my boot. “Do you think that’s necessary? To keep him under watch?”

Casteel nodded as he sheathed one of his swords at his side. “He’s most likely under the assumption that I’ve turned you into a vampry,” he parroted my earlier thoughts. “If we just sent him back to Atlantia, he would’ve immediately come back here.”

“To do what?” I pulled on the soft, worn leather boot. It was a little snug around the calf but would work. “Cut off my head?” I asked, only half-joking.

“He would try and die trying,” he stated bluntly.

I froze. “Casteel—”

“I know that sounds harsh.” He bent, swiped up the other boot, and brought it over to where I sat on the edge of the wooden chair. “But even if you were a bloodthirsty Ascended, trying to rip the throats out of everyone who came near you, I would still destroy anyone who sought to harm you.”

My heart skipped a beat and turned over heavily as I stared up at him. “I don’t know if I should be worried about that or flattered.”

“Let’s go with flattered.” He knelt, holding my boot. “And be thankful that it won’t come to that. When he sees you, he’ll know you haven’t Ascended—at least not into a vampry.”

But into what? I hoped he or someone could answer. “I can put my own shoes on.”

“I know. But it makes me feel useful. Let me be useful, please.”

“Only because you said, ‘please,’” I murmured, lifting my leg.

He sent me a quick grin. “How are you feeling? Honestly? And I’m not talking about just physically.”

I held still as he slid the shaft of the boot up. “I…I’m okay,” I said, staring at the dark locks on his bowed head. “It’s just a bit weird because I…I feel the same. I don’t feel like anything has changed. I mean, maybe nothing really changed?” I said. “Maybe you just healed me—”

“I didn’t just heal you, Poppy.” He looked up at me as he tugged the boot into place. “Your heart stopped. If I had been a second or two too slow, you would’ve passed on.” His gaze held mine as my stomach dipped. “You don’t feel the same.”

I gripped the edge of the chair. “I really don’t understand what that means. I feel the same.”

“It’s hard to explain, but it’s like a combination of scent and instinct.” He placed his hands on my knees. “When I touch you, I recognize the feel of your skin in my soul and in my heart. You are still Poppy, but I don’t sense mortal blood in your veins, and you no longer feel the same on an instinctual level.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

He stared at me for a moment. “Is that all you really have to say to that?”

“It’s all I can come up with now.”

His gaze searched mine as he nodded. “I can’t even begin to imagine all the things that must be racing through your mind right now.”

I coughed out a dry laugh. “So much. Some of it I can sort of table for later to freak out over. But…”

“What?” Casteel prodded quietly.

I opened my mouth, then closed it, and then tried again. A part of me still wanted to remain quiet, to not bring up King Malec, but I…I didn’t want anything unspoken to linger between us. Not after what had happened. Not after what he’d risked for me. Not after we’d come so close to losing each other.

And even if what I had to say shocked him, I couldn’t believe that it would drive a wedge between us. We were…together. We were too strong for that.

My grip tightened on the edge of the chair. “Did Alastir say anything to you when you caught up with him? About me? Other than the whole I’m-a-danger-to-Atlantia thing—which I’m sure he said.”

“He said some things,” he told me. “But there wasn’t a lot of time, nor was I in the mood to listen to much beyond what I needed to know to find you.” He squeezed my knees. “Why?”

I swallowed thickly. “He told me that I was descended from Nyktos and that I…I’m also descended from King Malec.”

No wave of shock or horror radiated off Casteel as he stared at me. “He said as much to me, too.”

“He did?” When Casteel nodded, I asked, “And that doesn’t bother you?”

His brows lowered. “Why would that bother me?”

“Why?” I repeated, a little dumbfounded. “He was the one who created the first vampry. He betrayed your mother—”

“Yeah, he did those things. Not you.” He slid his hands off my knees and placed them over mine. Slowly, he pried my fingers loose. “We don’t even know if that’s true.”

“He said that Malec’s abilities were a lot like mine—that he could heal with his touch and use his abilities to hurt people without even touching them,” I said.

“I’ve never heard that.” Casteel threaded his fingers through mine.

“He said that only a few people knew what he was truly capable of. That your parents did.”

“Then we need them to confirm it.”

I tensed. “Your mother—”

“My mother will not hold who you are descended from against you,” he interrupted. “It may be a shock to her. It may even make her think of things she has worked to forget, but she will not hold you responsible for what someone distantly related to you did.”

I wanted so badly to believe that. And maybe he was right. He knew his mother, but how she’d stared at me when she first saw me kept replaying in my head as well as what she’d said. But that could’ve just been shock. “Why haven’t you said anything about that?”

“Because I honestly didn’t think it mattered,” he said, and the sincerity of his words tasted like vanilla. “I had no idea if he said it to you or if it’s true. To be honest, it doesn’t make sense to me. It doesn’t explain your abilities or how strong they are, as far as I know. Just because you share similar gifts doesn’t mean that you are descended from him.”

Rising, he pulled me from the chair and then looped his arms around my waist. “But even if you do share his bloodline, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change you.” His eyes were a bright amber as he looked down at me. “Did you really think it would bother me?”

“I didn’t think it would come between us,” I admitted. “I just…I don’t want to be related to him. I don’t want to make your mother uncomfortable more than I already have and am going to.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I can understand that, but you know what?” He dropped his forehead to mine. “I’m not worried about how she’ll feel. I’m concerned about you—about everything that has happened to you. You have been so damn strong. You were attacked, taken captive, and then you almost lost your life.” He placed a hand against my cheek, just over the scars there. “We have no idea why you haven’t Ascended, or if you did and we just don’t know into what yet. And, on top of all of that, you have had one shock after another—from learning the truth about the Ascended, to fearing for your brother and Tawny, to now learning that you have god’s blood in you.

“Well, when you list it all out like that, I think I may need to sit down,” I commented.

He kissed the bridge of my nose. “But you’re not. You’re standing. You’re dealing with it, and fuck if I’m not in awe of you right now. But I also know none of this has hit you yet, and that concerns me. You keep telling me you’re okay every time I ask how you are, and I know that can’t be true.”

“I am okay.” Mostly. I rested my cheek against his chest. I needed to be okay because none of what had happened from the moment I stepped into the Chambers of Nyktos changed the fact that we needed to find his brother and mine—

Ian.

I jerked back, my eyes going wide. “Oh, my gods. I haven’t even thought about this.” Hope exploded deep inside me, loosening tense muscles. “If I didn’t become a vampry, then that means Ian might not have, either. He could be like me. What I am. He might not be like them.”

Wariness echoed through Casteel. “That’s possible, Poppy,” he began, his tone cautious. “But he’s only been seen at night. And he’s married to an Ascended.”

The rest of what he wouldn’t say hung unspoken in the air of the dusty hunting cabin. Ian may not be my brother by blood, or we may not share the same parent that carried the eather within them. I didn’t know. But just because Casteel hadn’t seen Ian during the day or just because he was married to an Ascended didn’t mean that Ian had become one. The hope I felt now wasn’t nearly as flimsy and naïve as it had been a week ago, and that was something to hold onto.

So, I did.

Casteel made sure I didn’t run out into the late-morning sun when we stepped out onto the small alcove of a porch and saw Kieran waiting between a massive black horse—Setti—and a brown one. Setti neighed softly, shaking his glossy, black mane. Casteel slowed my steps, gradually letting me walk into the sun.

Other than enjoying the feel of it against my face, nothing happened.

I petted Setti for a moment, scratching him behind his ear as I scoured the trees around the cabin. Every so often, I saw a flash of silver or white or black among the low-hanging, gnarled branches. Brown, curled leaves and brighter, greener ones blanketed the woods surrounding the cabin. It was as if an extreme cold snap had come through, shocking the foliage. But we were in the Skotos foothills, and I could see the mist-drenched mountains looming above the trees. Wouldn’t the plant life here be used to the chilly air?

Gripping the saddle as Casteel finished strapping down the saddlebags, I lifted myself onto Setti. Once I’d situated myself, I looked over to find not only Kieran and Casteel staring at me but also a dark-skinned Atlantian. Naill had come around the side of the hunting cabin. The three of them stared as if I had done a backflip onto the horse.

“What?” I asked, touching the mess that was my hair. There had been no comb inside, and I was sure I looked as if I’d been caught in a wind tunnel.

Naill’s brows lifted as he blinked slowly. “That was…impressive.”

My brows knitted. “What was?”

“You just hoisted yourself onto Setti,” Casteel said.

“So?” The corners of my lips turned down.

“You didn’t use the stirrup,” Kieran pointed out as Naill mounted the horse that Kieran stood beside.

“What?” My frown increased. “Are you sure I didn’t?” I must have. There would’ve been no way for me to seat myself on Setti without placing my foot in the stirrup or without aid. The horse was far too tall for me to have done that, nor did I have the kind of upper body strength required for that kind of feat without a nice running start.

And I would’ve probably failed spectacularly.

“You totally didn’t,” Naill confirmed. He stared at me with a bit of wonder that I figured had more to do with the fact that I wasn’t a vampry.

“Here.” Casteel stretched up, wiggling his hands. “Get down here for a moment.”

“I just got myself up here.”

“I know, but this will only take a second.” He wiggled his fingers again. “I want to see something.”

Sighing, I placed my hands in his and let him lift me off Setti, who watched us with an air of curiosity. I really hoped that none of them expected me to seat myself again with all of them watching. “What?”

Casteel dropped my hands and stepped back. “Hit me. Hard. Like you mean it.”

My forehead creased. “Why do you want me to hit you?”

Naill folded his arms over the pommel of the saddle. “That’s a good question.”

“Hit me,” Casteel urged.

“I don’t want to hit you.”

“That would be a first,” he replied, his eyes twinkling in the sunlight.

“I don’t want to hit you right now,” I amended.

Casteel was quiet for a moment and then turned to Kieran and Naill. “Did I ever tell you guys about that time I discovered Poppy perched outside a window, clutching a book to her chest?”

My eyes narrowed as Naill said, “No, but I have a lot of questions.”

“Cas,” I started.

He shot me a slow smile of warning. “She had this book—it’s her favorite. She even brought it with her when we left Masadonia.”

“I did not,” I stated.

“She’s embarrassed about it,” he went on, “because it’s a sex book. And not just any sex book. It’s full of all kinds of dirty and unimaginable—”

I snapped forward, punching him in the stomach.

“Fuck,” Casteel doubled over with a grunt as Naill let out a low whistle. “Gods.”

I crossed my arms. “Happy now?”

“Yeah,” he exhaled raggedly. “I will be once I can breathe again.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Damn.” Casteel looked up at me, his eyes slightly wide. “You are…strong.”

“Told you,” Kieran commented. “I told you she was strong.”

A memory of Kieran telling Casteel that after I’d tried to eat him flashed. My stomach dropped as my arms loosened and fell to my sides. “You think I’ve gotten stronger?”

“Think?” Casteel laughed. “I know. You’ve always been able to hit hard, but that was something else.”

“I actually didn’t hit you as hard as I could,” I said.

He stared at me. “Well, damn.”

“Do not ask me to hit you again. I’m not going to do it,” I told him.

 A slow smile crept over his face, and I tasted…lush spice against my tongue. “There is something so wrong with you,” I muttered.

A dimple appeared in his right cheek as I turned away from him. Not even a second later, he was next to me, kissing the corner of my lips. “I like that,” he said, placing his hands on my hips. “A lot.”

Flushing to the roots of my hair, I said nothing as I gripped the saddle. This time, Casteel gave me the boost I may not have needed. He swung up behind me, taking the reins. I honestly didn’t know what to think about the possibility that I was stronger. I didn’t have the headspace for it. So, I added that to the list of things to dwell on later as I turned to Naill. “Thank you.”

He stared at me, his forehead creasing. “For what?”

“For helping Casteel in Irelone. For helping me,” I said.

A grin appeared as he glanced between Casteel and I, shaking his head. “You’re welcome, Penellaphe.”

“You can call me Poppy,” I said, thinking that all who aided were those I could consider friends. It didn’t matter if they had helped because they felt obligated to Casteel or not. It didn’t matter to me.

His grin grew into a striking smile. “You’re welcome, Poppy.”

Feeling my cheeks heat again, I looked around. “Where are Delano and Jasper?” I asked as Casteel steered Setti toward the woods. “And the rest?”

“They’re all around us,” Casteel said, nudging Setti forward.

“They don’t have horses?” I frowned at the top of Kieran’s head. “Where is your horse?”

Kieran shook his head. “The trip through the Skotos will be fast and hard. It takes less energy for us to be in our wolven forms. Plus, we cover much more ground this way.”

Huh. I hadn’t known that. I watched Kieran walk ahead of us. As he neared the trees, he reached down and gripped the hem of his tunic. I realized that he was already barefoot. He pulled the tunic over his head and off. Lean muscles along the length of his back bunched, and his arm tensed as he tossed the shirt aside.

 “That seems wasteful,” I muttered, watching the black tunic float for a few moments before it slowly drifted to the ground. His breeches joined it seconds later.

Naill sighed as he moved his horse forward. Shifting sideways on the saddle, he stretched out an arm as he hung low and swiped up the discarded clothing. “I should’ve just left them there so you could return to the kingdom buck-ass naked.”

 Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kieran raise an arm and extend a middle finger. I told myself not to look but I knew he was about to shift, and there was something utterly fascinating about that. I couldn’t stop myself. I peeked, keeping my gaze northwards.

Not like that did any good.

Kieran pitched forward, and for a moment, I saw way more than I should have. Then he changed, his skin thinning and darkening. Bones cracked and stretched, fusing back together. Fawn-colored fur sprouted along his back, covering the muscles as they thickened and grew. Claws slammed into the ground, stirring up leaves and dirt. Seconds. It had only taken seconds, and then Kieran prowled ahead of us in his wolven form.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing that,” I whispered.

“Which part?” Casteel asked. “The shifting, or Kieran stripping?”

Naill snorted as he righted himself on the saddle, shoving Kieran’s clothing into his bag.

“Neither,” I admitted, my gaze lifting to the trees as we entered the woods. The tops were deformed, the limbs twisted downward as if a great hand had landed over top of them, attempting to push them into the ground. “Are the trees like this always?”

“They were like that when we arrived at the cabin,” Casteel answered, curling his arm around my waist as leaves and thin branches crunched under Setti’s hooves. “But they never looked like that before.”

“What could’ve caused that?”

“A hell of a storm must have come through here,” he said, and when I glanced at Naill, he was looking up at them, too. As far as we could see, the trees were bent and misshapen.

What kind of storm could do that? Unsettled by the sight, I fell quiet as we traveled forward. It didn’t take long for us to reach the mist obscuring the mountains. It was so thick and white that it was like soup. Even though I knew it wouldn’t hurt me, I still tensed as Kieran loped through. I noticed the other wolven then, streaking out of the haunting woods around us and entering the mist with hesitation. I spotted Jasper and Delano as they came to our sides, joining the two horses. Wispy tendrils of mist curled around their legs and bodies.

Delano lifted his head as he prowled between Naill’s horse and Setti, looking up at me. I gave him an awkward wave as I thought of Beckett disappearing into the mist the first time I’d entered the Skotos.

But that hadn’t been Beckett.

Heart heavy, I faced forward, bracing myself to enter the opaque nothingness. My eyes narrowed. The mist didn’t seem as thick as I remembered. Or it moved, swirling and thinning.

“That’s different,” Casteel noted, and his grip around my waist tightened.

The mist scattered as we entered, spreading out and opening a clear path for us. I twisted, looking behind us. The mist came together again, sealing into a thick, seemingly impenetrable mass. Turning around, I spotted several of the wolven ahead, their fur glossy in the sunlight.

Eager to see the stunning display of the golden trees of Aios, I looked up as soon as we cleared what was left of the mist.

“My gods,” Naill whispered.

Casteel stiffened behind me as Setti slowed, the horse shaking his head nervously. Ahead of us, the wolven had come to a stop, as well, their bodies rigid with tension as they too looked up. My lips parted as a wave of shivers erupted across my skin.

Red.

Deep crimson leaves gleamed like a million pools of blood in the sunlight.

The golden trees of Aios had all become blood trees.