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To lips that were somehow soft yet unrelentingly firm. Lips that had spun beautiful words into the air and whispered heated, wicked promises against my bare skin. Lips that had paid homage to the many scars that riddled my body and face.
Lips that had also spoken blood-soaked lies.
“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.”
But then you insulted her. You made her flinch, and then you threatened her. I will not forget that.”
No one speaks of you or to you like that and lives.”
“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 when Hawke—Casteel—had seen the pale pink, jagged streak of skin that started below my hairline and sliced across the temple, ending at my nose, and the other that was shorter and higher, cutting across my forehead through my eyebrow, he had said that both halves were as beautiful as the whole. I’d believed him then. And I’d felt beautiful for the first time in my life, something that had also been forbidden to me. And gods help me, but I still believed him.
He may hate being called the Dark One, but he has earned that name.”
“But he’s the one thing in all the kingdoms that you, and only you, never have to fear.”
Our bodies had come together because of my attraction to him. Because how I felt for him had been greater than the truth of what and who he was. That was what drove this need to understand how he’d gotten to this point in his life and why he was doing what he was now. It was what fueled this desire to forget everything except for the bliss I’d felt while I was in his arms—his lips against my skin, and the peace and companionship I experienced when we were simply speaking to one another.
“Fight me. Argue with me. I won’t stop you. But I will not allow you to put your life in jeopardy.
“No one, and I mean no one, speaks of you like that. Threatens you and lives.”
But you never need to fear me. Never.”
Casteel hauled me against his chest without warning. Before I knew what he was even about, his mouth was on mine, stealing my breath and scattering my thoughts. The kiss was hot and raw, a clash of lips and teeth. I was reminded again of how, as Hawke, he’d held himself back when he kissed me, and how much he hid. It wasn’t just the fangs, it was also the power—his power.
“Make me feel incompetent and kill more than me, Princess.”
I’d seen all his smiles to know which ones were real: The half-curl of his lips that said he was amused. The predatory one that reminded me of a large cat whose prey had made a foolish mistake. The cold curve to his mouth that never reached his eyes. The twist of a grin full of barely banked violence that was a promise of bloodshed. Those smiles may not have been directed at me, not even tonight when we squared off in the woods. But I’d seen them all.
he was…damn, his body was a work of art, even with numerous nicks and thin slices I could barely see in the soft lamplight.
A surprised laugh almost broke free. And there it was again, the slight widening of his eyes, the parting of his lips, and the absence of arrogance.
“In Atlantia, it is tradition to be given a second name, a middle one, so to speak. It's given in honor of a cherished family member or friend, usually picked by the mother, and it is a well-guarded secret only shared outside of the family with the closest of friends and with those who hold a special place in one’s life. My mother chose my middle name in honor of her brother. His name was Hawkethrone. My full name is Casteel Hawkethrone Da’Neer. When I was a small child, my mother took to calling me an abbreviated form of that name. And so did my brother. They, and only they had ever known me
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“Why are you telling me this about your name? Why does it matter?” He was quiet now, his features smoothing out. “Because knowing that Hawke is a part of my name, a part of me, matters to you.”
“I am Hawke,” he said after a moment. “And I am Casteel. I’m not two separate people, no matter how badly you want to believe that.”
“Yet you haven’t called me Hawke since you learned who I was.” The frustration quickly flamed into anger. “And why does that matter, Hawke?” A smile crept across his lips then, one that showed the barest hint of fangs. “Because I miss hearing you say it.” I stared at him for what felt like a small eternity. “You’re ridiculous, Casteel.”
“I have a lot of blood on my hands, Poppy. Sometimes, so much that I don’t think they’ll ever be clean. So much that I don’t know if I ever want them to be.”
“You are so incredibly beautiful when you’re angry.”
He was both the villain and the hero, the monster and the monster-slayer.
“But, just so you know, if you want my lips on any piece of you, I’m more than willing to appease you.” My mouth dropped open. “And my willingness to comply extends to my hands, my fingers, and my cock—” “Oh, my gods,” I cut him off. “You don’t have to worry about that. I will never request your…your services.” “Services?” He tipped his head toward me. “That sounds so dirty.” I ignored that comment. “You and I are never going to do anything like what we did before.” “Never?” “Never.” “Would you say it would be…impossible?” “Yes. It’s definitely impossible.” Hawke smiled then, and it was
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“Why did you have to tell me that Hawke was your middle name?” The fire crackled, spitting sparks, and I closed my eyes. Seconds, maybe minutes later, Casteel said, “Because you needed to know that not everything was a lie.”
His lips thinned. “If I had known that Lord Mazeen joined him, he would’ve been staked to that wall right alongside the Duke.” I lifted my gaze to his. “I’m glad you didn’t. If you had, then I wouldn’t have gotten to see the look on his face when I sliced off his hand and then his head.” Casteel stared at me, the corners of his lips curving up. His lips parted, and I saw a hint of his fangs. The dimple in his right cheek appeared, and then his left. I felt a curling motion in my stomach. “So incredibly violent, my Princess.” The curl moved even lower. “I’m not your Princess.”
Sometimes, all it took for me was to look at him, and I’d feel a certain way.
“Do you know what the fluffy animals are called that live in the trees near the capital?” I asked. “What?” “The ones that hang onto the limbs,” I explained. “They’re fluffy and cute, but are supposedly vicious.” “Dear gods, do I even want to know why you’re thinking of the tree bears?” “Tree bear?” My brow puckered. “That’s the name?” “Poppy,” he sighed. I rolled my eyes. “You remind me of a tree bear.”
The next time I saw Casteel, I was going to shove the stupid knife so far into his chest, he would have to dig it out.
Kieran started to block me once more, and I’d had it with the ridiculousness. “He can see me standing behind you,” I said. “You’re a giant oaf, but not that giant of an oaf.”
“I am not without sin. I’m sure that I’ve caused names to be carved into different walls, but I am not them.”
“I didn’t lie when I told you that I had helped those cursed by a Craven die with dignity. I did. Because I believe there should be dignity in death, even for those I loathe. I’d forgotten that in my anger and in my—” He cut himself off and then looked up at me. “You reminded me that as Hawke, I believed in that.”
said nothing though as we walked back toward the keep, nor did I resist when he took hold of my hand once more. I had no idea why he did it. I doubted he feared I’d run. Maybe he simply liked holding my hand. I liked my hand being held.
“You’re beautiful when you’re quiet and somber, but when you laugh? You rival the sunrise over the Skotos Mountains.”
“There would be nothing easy about giving you to them.”
“You’re not just a pawn to me, Poppy.”
“I want a ring,” I announced. “I want an obscenely big one like I’ve seen some of the wives of wealthy merchants have. Their diamonds are so large they look like they should weigh down their hands.” He angled his body toward me. “I will find you a diamond so big it will enter the room before you do.”
Casteel leaned in, his voice in my ear. “Still so incredibly brave,” he murmured, and that inexplicable warming returned to my chest.
“She is unique and brave, intelligent and beautiful,” Casteel agreed, apparently no longer content to drive me out of my mind with just his thumb. His fingers were involved now, sliding out from his palm and then gliding back. “And completely unexpected. But she is not the Maiden, Alastir.” His chin grazed my shoulder as he turned his head to the wolven. “And if you refer to her as the Maiden one more time, we are going to have a problem. Understand?”
“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.”
“Nothing about Casteel and I has been easy. I thought he was someone else entirely when we first met, but I started falling for him even then.” And gods, that was the truth.
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.”
Casteel strode in, his hair swept back from his face, and it was like all the air had been sucked out, and the library suddenly became three sizes smaller. It was simply him, his mere presence immediately taking over the space.
“Did they have a certain eye color? Because I don’t have gold or hazel eyes.” “No. Yours are the color of an Atlantian spring—of dew-kissed leaves.”
The corners of my lips tipped up, and I smiled. “Beautiful,” Casteel whispered.
“You are protected with me, and you’ll never be alone,”
“I am born of the first kingdom.” Casteel’s voice carried like the wind and snow, stroking over the knights, who all turned, one by one, to look in his direction. “Created from the blood and ash of all those who fell before me. I have risen to take back what is mine. I’m who you call the Dark One,” he said, and chills danced across my skin. “Yes, I have the Maiden, and I’m not giving her back.”
“It’s okay. Shh, it’s okay, Poppy. Stop. Look at me,” a voice demanded. “Look at me, Princess.” Princess. The Ascended wouldn’t call me that. Breathing ragged, my wild gaze swiveled around the carriage, stopping when I found him. He hovered over me, cheeks spotted with blood. “Hawke,” I whispered. “Yeah. Yes.” He sounded shredded and windblown. “It’s me.”
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