A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire (Blood and Ash, #2)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

“I just want you to know that I’m not even particularly upset about you questioning what I intend to do. How you’ve spoken to me doesn’t bother me. I’m not insecure enough to care about the opinions of little men.” Casteel’s face was inches from the wide-eyed wolven. “If that had been all, I would’ve overlooked it. If you had stopped after the first time you referenced her, I would’ve let you walk out of here with just your overinflated sense of self-worth. But then you insulted her. You made her flinch, and then you threatened her. I will not forget that.”

Letting go of the wolven, Casteel stepped back, watching Landell slide down the wall, the wolven’s head lolling to the side. He turned to face the table, his right hand stained with blood and gore. “Does anyone else have anything they’d like to share?”

“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.”

“A cell is a cell, no matter how comfortable it is,” I told him.

“My animal side doesn’t cancel out my mortal one,” he replied. “I’m not incapable of emotions.”

“If someone is idiot enough to insult and threaten you in front of Cas, it’s likely someone I wouldn’t have been particularly close to in the first place.”

“I had to do it,” he said, dipping his head so his cheek pressed against mine. “No one, and I mean no one, speaks of you like that. Threatens you and lives.”

“Most people aren’t as insane as you,” I said in a throaty voice that wasn’t mine. “That’s not a very nice thing to say.” He scraped harder with his sharp teeth, just below where he’d bitten me before, and I gasped as my body jerked. “And the truth is, you like my brand of insanity.”

“Does the cold not affect you?” “I have thick skin,” he answered, and I frowned, not sure if that was true. “To go along with my thick skull.”

He was both the villain and the hero, the monster and the monster-slayer.

“What are you doing in here?” I rasped. “Other than wondering exactly what choices I made in my life that led me to this exact moment?” Kieran asked.

He angled his body toward me. “I will find you a diamond so big it will enter the room before you do.”

“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.”

“He doesn’t speak now?” I asked. The Ascended hadn’t been able to keep quiet before. “I tore out his tongue,” Kieran announced, and both Casteel and I looked at him. “What?” The wolven shrugged. “He annoyed me.”

“Right now, in the dark, I’m just Hawke.” His arm eased from my waist as his hand drifted over my hip and down my thigh, to where the gown tangled around my legs. “You’re just Poppy, and I can help you.”

“Never would’ve guessed that, seeing you over here all comfy with this temperamental ass.” “Hey,” Casteel said. “You saying things like that is why he’s a temperamental ass towards you.”

Casteel straightened behind me. “Don’t worry. Neither of us will fall. It was just a love tap.” “That did not look like a love tap,” Naill commented. “That’s because it was a very passionate one,” Casteel replied. “You’re about to get a love tap to your face,” I muttered under my breath.

“You can’t spell dysfunctional without fun, now can you?”

“The wounds will heal as soon as I pull the arrows out.” “Then why haven’t you done that yet?” “Because they will not fester, unlike your wound if dirt gets into it.” His gaze flicked up, and his eyes snagged my focus. The pupils seemed larger. “Are you worried about me, Princess?” I clamped my mouth shut. “You are, aren’t you? I heard you scream my name when I fell from the horse,” he continued, and it was weird for him to tease after riding in silence for hours—and with three arrows sticking out of him. “Your concern warms the same heart you’ve so grievously wounded.”

“That’s true,” Kieran said, and I thought he’d moved closer. “You took out the mouthy one?” I nodded as Casteel cursed when the arrow he’d been pulling on most likely got stuck on something important. Like an organ. “With your dagger?” Kieran sounded impressed. “That and my sparkling personality.” The wolven snorted. “It was probably the latter that did him in.”

“And while it is an intimate ritual, one that isn’t often done anymore, it is not always sexual. For some, I’m sure it becomes that naturally. And hey, to each their own. They’re consenting adults, and you do you, you know? I’m not going to judge.” “I’m not judging either.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not?” “I’m not,” I insisted. “So, you’re interested then?” he murmured.

“Wait.” He swung his head toward mine. “Do you even know what could happen during that ritual that would make it so very crude—” “I know what could happen,” I snapped. “Is it because of that diary?” “Shut up.” “Did you bookmark the chapters detailing how Willa spent afternoons entertaining not one but two suitors, one in front and the other—?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “You may have come back as an asshole, but that’s better than being lost in your own mind. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“First off, knowing that the Duke did that, I want to kill him all over again. But secondly, blood wasn’t the only thing I was starved for this morning.” His eyes were heated honey. “And I think you know that.”

“No one else will treat you as Hawke. They won’t see me as Poppy.” His gaze lifted to mine. “No one else matters. Just you and me.”

What did I want? Him. I wanted his hands on me, washing away all the reasons why I shouldn’t. I wanted to feel his skin against mine, crowding out the world around us. I wanted the touch of his lips, chasing away any logical protests before they could form.

“I don’t want to pretend,” I whispered. “I’m Poppy and you’re Casteel, and this is real.”

“She stabbed me in the heart with a bloodstone dagger,” Casteel finished instead. The old woman blinked while Jasper gave a sudden bark of laughter. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But damn…are you for real?” “It’s true,” Kieran confirmed. “She thought it would kill him.”

“Glad to know the disturbed apple doesn’t fall too far from the crazy tree.”

“I was,” I admitted. “For a couple of minutes. But you were right.” His brows lifted. “Blessed be the gods, someone mark the date and time. She just admitted I was right.”

“If you get yourself killed,” Kieran said, “I’m going to be pissed.” One side of Casteel’s lips kicked up. “I won’t fall, my brother.” Casteel pulled him in for a tight, one-armed hug. “That, I can promise you.”

“Please…please try to be careful,” I said. He lifted his brows. “Are you worried about me?” Crossing my arms, I nodded. “Don’t be nice to me,” he replied, and I sensed amusement from him. “It weirds me out.” “Sorry.” He smiled then as he walked to where I stood. “You don’t sound remotely sorry.” I grinned at him. “Do me a favor,” Kieran said, looking down at me. “Protect your Prince, Poppy.”

His gaze swung to mine. “Don’t say stuff like that.” “Why?” “Because it makes me want to strip you naked and sink so deep in you that neither of us will know where we start and end.” His eyes flared an intense gold. “And then we’d never finish this conversation.”

“This is an omen. A powerful one.” Jasper shook his head in wonder. “A good one from the King of Gods.” The unnatural clouds started to scatter, and sunlight broke through as Jasper smiled. “Nyktos, even asleep, approves of this union.”

“You’re actually jealous.” “Of course, I am. At least I can acknowledge that.” And he was jealous. I could feel it, an ashy coating in the back of my throat. “You are…” “Devilishly handsome? Wickedly clever?” He turned back to the western sky, where it still carried the haze of fire. “Stunningly charismatic?” “That wasn’t what I was going for,” I told him. “More like ridiculous.” “Endearingly ridiculous,” he corrected.

“I think you’re seeing things.” “I know what I see.” He pulled back, his eyes meeting mine. “Every time I look at you, I see a gift I’m not worthy of.”

“Are we sleeping here?” I demanded. “The three of us?” “I was wondering when she was going to notice that,” Kieran commented. My gaze narrowed as the mist slipped over Kieran’s chest. “Is it really necessary that the three of us sleep…so close?”

“Is it necessary for you to make it sound like we’d be doing something other than sleeping?”

It struck me then, sort of dumbly, that Casteel looked like some kind of god standing there. In black, with his swords strapped to his sides, and the near brutal hardness that had settled into the striking planes and angles of his features, he reminded me of the god Theon.