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November 9 - November 24, 2025
“What matters is that I choose her,” Casteel spoke, and my stupid, stupid heart skipped a beat, even though I did not choose him. “And that is all that matters.”
“You probably think that was excessive,” he said, dropping the crumpled, blood-stained napkin onto his plate. “It wasn’t. No one speaks of you or to you like that and lives.” I stared at him.
“There is no side of you that is not as beautiful as the other half. Not a single inch isn’t stunning.” His lashes lifted, and the intensity in his stare held me captive. “That was true the first time I said it to you, and it is still the truth today and tomorrow.”
“But he’s the one thing in all the kingdoms that you, and only you, never have to fear.”
“If you’re looking for a fight…” came a voice that sent a shiver down my spine and then over my skin. My head jerked in the direction of the sound. “You’ll fight me, Princess.”
This was about who disarmed whom first. Who drew first blood. This was about driving out the pent-up rage and the festering sense of helplessness that had resided inside me for far longer than I was comfortable admitting. And maybe, just maybe, that was why Casteel was allowing this.
“But we will have that conversation later,” he promised, thrusting the sword into my hand. “Make me feel incompetent and kill more than me, Princess.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” he said. “You’re beautiful when you’re quiet and somber, but when you laugh? You rival the sunrise over the Skotos Mountains.”
And then I saw it. The mask slipping into place, curving up the corner of his lip in a smug twist of a smile. His features sharpened, and when he opened his eyes again, they reminded me of chips of amber.
Casteel leaned in, his voice in my ear. “Still so incredibly brave,” he murmured, and that inexplicable warming returned to my chest.
“Just so you know, Penellaphe doesn’t need protection. She is more than capable of handling things herself. But that is my future you are walking away with. Guard her well. Your life depends on it.”
I wasn’t sure if I should share this, but something about Alastir put me at ease, and maybe that something was how much he reminded me of Vikter.
“I’m not taking any chances with you.” Casteel moved forward, touching my cheek just below the scar. “Thank you.” “For what?” The touch of his fingertips was light, but a shiver still rolled through me. “For choosing me.”
I glanced up at her in confusion as Casteel reclaimed the short distance that separated us. His arm pressed to mine as he reached for a sandwich and then remained there.
Casteel laughed then, holding up his hands. “It’s just you look…adorably confused, and now you look adorably violent.”
I nodded, my heart thundering. “I don’t want to pretend,” I whispered. “I’m Poppy and you’re Casteel, and this is real.”
I shot to my feet. “Let me make one thing clear. I don’t know if you realize this or not, Casteel, but I’m not duty-bound to obey a single thing you say.”
“Your heart, Poppy? It is a gift I do not deserve.” He placed his hands on my knees as he lifted his gaze to mine. “But it is one I will protect until my dying breath. I don’t know what that means.” He stopped, curling his fingers into the leggings, into my skin.
“Will you do me the honor of allowing me to one day become worthy of you? Will you marry me? Today?” “Yes. I will give you the honor of becoming my husband, because you’re already worthy of me.” Casteel’s eyes closed as he shuddered. “I will marry you.” I dipped down, kissing his forehead. “Today.”
“You ready, Poppy?” “Yes.” He smiled again, but this time, his dimples appeared. “Let’s kick some ass.” “Let’s,” I whispered.
