Chapter Thirty-One #2
I turned at the sound of Casteel’s footsteps. Thank all the gods, he was halfway clothed. The flap of buttons was undone, though, and I had no idea how the pants stayed on his hips. He carried a white bundle in his hands, which he laid carefully on the floor of the cave.
“Kieran figured we were headed here. He brought some fresh clothes for both of us and a towel.”
I couldn’t even fathom how Kieran had been that intuitive, and I probably didn’t want to know.
He extended a hand, offering a thick, white towel. “It goes without saying that I prefer the naked, wet version of you. But it’s time to dry off and be presentable.”
I shook my head as I moved forward, slowing when the bubbling water started to drop below my chest. Why was I hesitating?
It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen my breasts, the scars, and everything else.
He was waiting, watching me, and hadn’t I done the same earlier?
Watched him undress unabashedly? Shoring up courage, I continued on, and the strangest thing happened.
Each step became easier, even as the water dropped to my ribcage and then to my navel.
Even as Casteel’s gaze followed the water level.
His lips parted slightly, and I was confident that Nyktos himself could arrive, and Casteel wouldn’t look away from me.
I realized there was power in that, in being a source of distraction for him.
The edges of his fangs dragged over his lower lip as the water fizzed around my inner thighs and then lower.
Pretending or not, he enjoyed what he saw as I climbed the earthen steps.
“I’ll help.” He spread the towel wide. “I know you don’t need it, but I want to.”
I said nothing as I stood in front of him, bare as he’d been. He stepped in behind me, rubbing the towel over my wet hair.
“This should be dried first,” he explained, and I was fully aware that he was staring down at me as he squeezed the excess water from my hair. I knew he saw the tips of my breasts pucker and could see the flush I felt tinting my skin.
“Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold,” he said, voice rough. “That’s what I hear about wet hair.”
“Uh-huh.” My jaw worked as a smile tugged at my lips.
“I’m just being thorough.” He slid the towel down my arms, all the way to the tips of my fingers and then across my back. “You’ll thank me later.”
“For being thorough?”
“Among other things.” He dragged the cloth over my stomach and then up, catching the water between my breasts. His hands lingered there before he turned me to him.
He knelt before me, sending my stomach tumbling as he drew the towel up my left leg, then my right, and finally between them. I sucked in a sharp breath, swaying slightly.
“Just being thorough,” he reminded me, his eyes hooded. “I wouldn’t want you unnecessarily wet, Princess.”
I had a feeling he meant something else.
The towel smoothed over my backside. “I think you’re all dry now.” His gaze slowly made its way to mine. “Mostly.”
Yes.
Mostly.
Grinning, he leaned his head down and kissed the faded, jagged scar on my inner thigh. The act startled me out of the pleasant haze. I watched him rise, a thousand different thoughts racing through my head as he wrapped the towel around me.
I grabbed hold of the edges. “Casteel—”
“I know.” He placed a finger over my lips. “What we’ve done here stays here.”
I blinked, stung at once by words I wasn’t sure I even understood. I wasn’t going to say that. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to say.
He turned, picking up the white shirt, which was such a contrast against his tan skin.
A lock of dark hair toppled over his forehead, softening his features as he bent his head, buttoning his pants.
There was a curl low in my stomach. How could he make such an ordinary act as dressing appear so sensual?
I honestly didn’t need to stand there and watch him dress. Dropping the towel, I quickly put on my clothes.
“Here.” Casteel fixed my sleeves again.
I didn’t know exactly what it was about that moment that made me think of the consequences of what we’d just done. The fact that it hadn’t even crossed my mind until now showed that I needed to make better life choices.
“You said that you took prevention for pregnancy,” I said, recalling that he’d taken an herb that rendered both males and females temporarily infertile. “Are you still covered?”
“Yes. I’m careful, Poppy,” he said without hesitation, gathering up our clothing and my boots. “I wouldn’t risk a child.”
Between us.
He hadn’t said that, but it hung in the air nonetheless. And there was another odd, irrational bite. One which made no sense because of the idea of having a child with anyone was more terrifying than finding an actual creature with fins for legs and tails for arms under my bed.
There was something obviously wrong with me because it still hurt.
Because what was real to him wasn’t the same for me.
Word of what I’d done to Beckett had spread. I knew this because everyone stared as I lifted a spoonful of thick herbal soup.
Well, not everyone.
Two Atlantians had commandeered Casteel’s attention.
So had Kieran. I had no idea where Delano and Naill had disappeared to, and it could literally be anywhere since we were in one of the larger buildings in the town center.
But the rest were either sneaking peeks in my direction or outright staring.
The mortals and Atlantians who sat at the table before us.
The wolven interspersed throughout the rest of the tables.
They all stared. Not that I could blame them.
I had glowed silver, and I had healed someone with my touch.
I’d be staring at someone who I’d heard or seen do that, too.
But it was what was behind those stares that unnerved me.
The air fairly vibrated with emotion, and like before, I hadn’t needed to concentrate, to open myself to feel the near hostility of most around me.
Swallowing the rich, flavorful soup, I lifted my gaze to the banners that hung on either side of the door. They rippled softly in the breeze coming through the open windows, which caught the blades of several fans, keeping the packed room cool.
A soft touch to my arm drew my attention to my right, where Alastir sat. “Would you like to take your dinner in your private quarters?” he asked quietly. “If so, I can escort you back to the fort.”
I lowered my spoon as I glanced to where Casteel sat at the head of the table. He was listening to an Atlantian as he rooted around on a plate of cheeses, inspecting each one as if he were looking for the perfect one or flaws. I refocused on Alastir. “Do I look that uncomfortable?”
A tight, worried smile appeared. “You’ve barely touched your food.”
It was hard to eat while people stared. My gaze flickered over the crowded room.
Part of me wanted to excuse myself and return to my bedchamber, but this was only one of many dinners or events where I would be the object of interest. Plus, hiding in my quarters may be the easier option, but it would also be more cowardly.
And besides, no one was projecting their emotions.
There wasn’t a screamer among them, so I could ignore them. Mostly.
“I’m fine,” I decided.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I know it must be hard to be around so many who aren’t welcoming of you and know how they feel.
I would not think ill of you if you don’t want to expose yourself to that.
And just know that anyone who has spent even a few minutes in your presence does not feel that way.
The rest will come to know you, I’m sure.
But until then, I apologize for their behavior. ”
He squeezed my arm gently. “Did you know that this was once a very busy trading post?”
I swallowed the knot his words formed in my chest.
“When Atlantia ruled over the entire kingdom, this was the first and last major city before you crossed the Skotos Mountains. There used to be…thousands that once passed through here,” he said, sighing as his gaze coasted over the bare walls.
“It was such a shame to see what became of this place, but Casteel and these people are slowly restoring it and bringing new life.”
Quentyn strode out from an area where the food had been prepared, carrying a large pitcher.
Another trailed behind him, shorter and younger with a slight limp.
It took me a moment to recognize the boy with the black hair and tan skin.
I’d only seen him in his wolven form and very briefly as a mortal, but his skin had been pale and clammy then.
Beckett.
I watched him refill the glasses at the end of the table and make his way toward us. As he refilled his great-uncle’s glass, he finally looked at me.
“We already met,” he whispered. “Kind of.”
“Beckett,” I said. “How are you feeling?”
“Almost perfect.” He poured water into my glass as he glanced back at Alastir before dipping his chin. “Thank you. I can’t say that enough.”
“You already have.”
A wide, toothy grin broke out across his face but quickly faded, and I felt a sharp spike of…of fear before he moved on to the other side of the table.
Was he now afraid of me?
I sat back as the knot in my chest expanded. I couldn’t understand why. I’d healed him—how I’d done that, I had no idea—but Beckett had to know that I wasn’t someone to fear.
“Penellaphe? Are you all right?”
A ragged breath left me as I looked at Alastir. “Yeah. Yes.” I smiled as I turned my attention back to him. “They seem very helpful. Beckett and Quentyn.”
“Respecting your elders is drilled into the young from a very early age. You will often find the youngest helping to serve food and drink at many dinner tables throughout Atlantia,” Casteel explained, having overheard me.
Alastir snorted. “Except for you. You always had your nose in a book at the dinner table.”
Surprise distracted me from Beckett’s response. “What were you reading?”