Chapter 16
“Come,” Casteel repeated, taking my hand. “Let me look at you.”
“I told you, I’m okay.”
He led me away from the mirror and back into the bedchamber. “And I told you to stop saying that when I know you aren’t.”
“I don’t even feel those bruises you mentioned,” I said as he placed me by the side of the bed.
His ocher gaze flicked to mine. “I know there are wounds that aren’t visible to the eye, and I wish you would stop trying to hide them from me.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
“I think there is a lot we need to talk about. He reached for the hem of my tunic, lifting it. “But there’s something really important we need to talk about before we discuss anything else.” He motioned for me to lift my arms, and I did so.
Air flowed over my bare arms as I watched him toss the top aside.
The plain slip I wore was so much thinner and better suited for the climate, but its tiny straps and the near-sheer, cinched bodice hid very little.
He drew a finger along the strap as he eyed it, slipping it under the flimsy material. “These silly, tiny straps…” The tips of his fangs dragged across his lower lip.
“Is that what you want to talk about?” My skin tingled as he ran his finger along the bodice of the slip, over the swell of my flesh. The peaks of my breasts tightened and hardened as his gaze returned to mine.
“I think these straps are very important and extremely distracting, but they’re not what we need to discuss,” he replied. “Sit, Poppy. I know you’re exhausted.”
I glanced down at my dusty pants. “I’ll dirty the bed if I sit.”
“Then you’ll have to take the pants off.”
My brows lifted. “Are you trying to get me naked?”
“Poppy,” he purred, brushing several strands of hair over my shoulder. “When am I not trying to get you naked?”
I laughed softly. “Good point.” I reached for the flap of the breeches, knowing he was teasing and enjoying it—and relieved that I could still enjoy it despite everything that had happened. I undid the buttons.
“Boots,” he reminded me. “Here. Hold onto my shoulders.”
Casteel knelt before me, and the sight of him—the breadth of his shoulders, the hair that had dried in a mess of waves and loose curls, toppling over his forehead, and the thick fringe of dark lashes nearly undid me.
He was beautiful. He was brave. He was intelligent.
He was kind and accepting. He was ferocious.
And he was mine .
Hands trembling slightly, I placed them on his shoulders. He made quick work of tugging off the boots as I steadied myself. The pants came next, and then I was standing before him in nothing but a slip that reached my thighs.
Casteel remained where he was, his gaze traveling over the length of my legs.
His stare lingered, not on the old scars from the night of the Craven attack, but rather on the dull blue patches of skin, bruised now from the gods only knew what.
His gaze roamed over me—my arms, the skin above my breasts, my face.
His eyes were like iced-over chips of amber when they met mine. “If any of those who inflicted one second of pain on you still breathed, I would tear them apart, limb from limb. I pray that the death you dealt them was slow and painful.”
“It wasn’t slow for most.” An image surfaced of them clutching their heads and screaming as their bodies contorted. “But it was painful for all.”
“Good.” His gaze held mine. “Don’t spend a second on guilt or pity. None of them—and especially not Alastir—deserve that.”
I nodded.
“I promise you if anyone else was involved in this, they will be found, and they will pay. The same goes for anyone else who seeks to threaten you. No matter who.”
He meant those words, and instinct told me that no one was excluded. Not even his parents.
“And I promise the same to you. I will allow no one to harm you,” I swore, the center of my chest thrumming.
“I know.” Casteel took my hands and pulled me down so I was sitting on the edge of the soft bed. A long moment passed. “I’m your husband, right?” he asked, remaining crouched.
My brows lifted at the unexpected question. “Yes?”
“Now, I don’t know a whole lot about being a husband,” he said as he placed my hands in my lap, and I really had no idea where he was going with this.
“Do you know what’s carved into our rings?
It’s in old Atlantian,” he told me when I shook my head.
“Both say the same thing. Always and forever . That is us.”
“Yes,” I whispered, my throat tightening. “It is.”
“Obviously, I don’t have experience in the whole marriage department, but be that as it may, you’re my wife. That means we don’t pretend anymore, correct? That, always and forever, we are real with one another.”
“Yes.” I nodded.
“Not about anything. Not even when you don’t want me to worry.
I know you’re strong and so resilient it’s fucking unbelievable, but you don’t have to always be strong with me.
It’s okay to not be okay when you’re with me,” he said, and my breath caught.
“It’s my duty as your husband to make sure you feel safe enough to be real.
You don’t have to pretend that you’re okay with everything that has happened, Poppy. ”
Oh…
Oh, gods.
His words wrecked me. Tears scorched my throat and rushed to my eyes. I did the only mature thing possible. I smacked my hands over my face.
“Poppy,” Casteel whispered, folding his fingers around my wrists. “That sounded like it hurt.”
“It did.” My voice was muffled. “I don’t want to cry.”
“Does smacking yourself in the face help with that?”
“No.” I laughed, shoulders trembling as tears dampened my lashes.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He tugged a little on my arms.
My hands stayed over my face. “Then don’t say incredibly sweet and supportive things.”
“Would you rather I say something mean and unsupportive?”
“Yes.”
“Poppy.” He drew my name out, pulling my hands away from my face. He gave me a lopsided grin, one that made him seem so incredibly young. “It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be vulnerable. This was possibly the worst homecoming ever. This last week sucked, and not in a fun way.”
I laughed again, and it ended in a sob. I didn’t stop the onslaught of emotion this time.
I broke, and just like Casteel had promised, he was there to catch those pieces, holding them together and keeping them safe until I could piece myself back together.
Somehow, I ended up on the floor with him, in his lap, my arms and legs wrapped tightly around him.
And I stopped pretending.
Because I wasn’t okay.
I wasn’t okay with what had happened, with what it could signal and what it meant when I didn’t even know what I was now.
Nor was I okay with learning that my parents had been betrayed by someone they trusted—that they’d truly been attempting to escape Solis with Ian and me but never made it, risking their lives for me—for us.
That betrayal hurt, and the pain throbbed intensely.
All those things I tried not to think about crashed into me, and who… who would be okay?
Seconds turned into minutes, and those minutes stacked on top of one another.
My tears dampened Casteel’s chest. I hadn’t even cried like this when I lost Vikter.
That had been a harsher explosion of emotion, but Casteel…
he had been there for that, too. And as he held me to him, his cheek pressed against the top of my head, his hands smoothing up and down my back, I didn’t worry about being seen as weak.
I didn’t fear that I’d be reprimanded for showing emotion as he gently rocked us back and forth.
I hadn’t even allowed myself to do this with Vikter, and I knew he wouldn’t have judged me.
He would’ve let me cry it out and then told me to deal with it.
And, sometimes, that was what I needed. This wasn’t one of those times, and not since my parents had died and Ian had left for Carsodonia had I felt safe enough to be this vulnerable.
And I knew why I could be like this with Casteel. It was further proof of what I felt so deeply when I opened my senses to him now. I was drowning in the taste of chocolate-dipped strawberries.
Love .
Love and acceptance.
I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, but it felt like a small eternity by the time the tears stopped flowing. My eyes ached a little, but I felt lighter.
Casteel turned his head, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You up for taking your first-ever shower? Afterwards, we’ll get some food in us, and eventually—unfortunately—find you some clothing. Then we’ll talk about everything else.”
At first, my brain got snagged on the whole shower part and then got hung up on the everything else section. Everything else was meeting with his parents, the whole Queen business, and…well, everything else.
“Or we can get some food in us first. It’s up to you,” he said. “What would you like?”
“I think I would like a shower, Cas.” I gasped as he nipped my finger.
His eyes opened, shining like citrine jewels. “Sorry. Hearing you say that just…does things to me.”
Having a relatively good idea of what those things were, warmth slid into my veins. My gaze crept over his shoulder, and excitement bubbled to life. “It’s going to feel weird bathing while standing.”
“You’re going to love it.” Casteel rose then, easily bringing me with him. His strength was always a shock, one I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to.
I followed him into the bathroom. Only the faintest light seeped in through the window above the bench.
Casteel turned the knob on a lamp over the vanity, and a soft, golden glow stretched across the tiled floor.
I watched him place two thick towels on a small stool between the tub and shower stall. I hadn’t even noticed that before.
Casteel shucked off his clothing with an utter lack of self-consciousness that was fascinating and enviable. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he walked into the sunken stall and began fiddling with the faucets on the wall.