CHAPTER 28
CASTEEL
It was late, a few hours from dawn, and I was tired. I should be sleeping. Today would be long, but I was lying in bed, thinking about the name of the kingdom.
Solis.
It wasn’t just some mortal word. It was old Atlantian—the language of the gods. Solis was a play on so’lis , a combination of two words that formed a term of endearment used long before my time.
My soul.
Yet another way the Ascended had bastardized our culture when they named their kingdom.
After all, when Solis was formed, Isbeth had been known as Ileana.
Perhaps some of the older Atlantians believed the name was rooted in the relationship between her and Jalara.
But from my time in their company, I assumed there had never been any real love between them.
And after Ileana’s true identity was revealed, my assumptions were proven correct.
I figured Isbeth had named the kingdom in honor of Malec.
They were heartmates, after all. Taking two words that meant my soul and combining them sort of made sense.
My gaze shifted from the overhead canopy to the back of Poppy’s head.
But I didn’t think the kingdom had been named after Isbeth’s undying love for Malec any longer.
Because I’d heard what the grul had said in the seconds before my sword pierced her skull. She had called Poppy so’lis . My soul. And it hadn’t been the grul speaking. It was Kolis.
He’d called Poppy his soul.
What he’d done tonight was more than just sending a message or a reminder of his presence and what he was capable of. It was a ploy to draw Poppy into the open to give her a message.
I’ll be seeing you soon.
A chill spread in my chest, and frost invaded my veins. I was calm as I lay there, but beneath the relaxed muscles and even breaths, rage encased in ice coiled, tight and sharp.
She has always been mine.
The Arae had said that Kolis wanted the essence in Poppy—the embers of life and death. But I thought about Reaver’s caginess when it came to what Kolis really wanted from Poppy. How Attes had said she was different—and the way he’d said it.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that Kolis wanted her for more than just the essence coursing through her.
That it ran deeper than that. My hand fisted as I tried to stop my mind from going to its next conclusion.
It was no use, though. My thoughts were already there.
Had Kolis developed some sort of twisted obsession with Poppy as he watched her through the eyes of the Ascended?
It was possible. But there was something else I couldn’t shake.
That the obsession hadn’t started then. That it was older. The clues were there.
Solis.
The uncertainty of Isbeth’s true plans.
The knowledge that both Reaver and Attes seemed to have but were unwilling to share.
But how? How could a being entombed for a millennium be aware of Poppy? It couldn’t only be the prophecy. There had to be more.
Someone who may have some insight came to mind.
That golden fuck. The Rev, Callum. He’d said he was old , and he was loyal to Kolis.
While it seemed like Isbeth’s knowledge had come from Malec—and some of it could’ve—according to Malik, Callum wasn’t a servant to Isbeth.
He was the puppeteer. But he was also missing in action currently, and it didn’t take a leap of logic to assume that fuck was wherever Kolis was.
Whatever the hell Kolis wanted with Poppy didn’t matter. Because instead of getting what he wanted from her, he would get me.
And I would destroy him.
Kolis may be the true Primal of Death, but I was a Deminyen Primal of Death, whose bloodline descended from destruction and war.
Kolis had said he would take everything from me? Well… A low, smoky laugh left me. Wherever he was would become a battlefield that I would reduce to ash, leaving the air thick with the scent of the blood of those who stood with him.
Kolis would not simply fall to me.
No. That would be too merciful. I would break him. Erase and unmake him.
And I would make sure all the gods bore witness to the only warning I would give them.
Come for what’s mine, and I will undo your very existence .
A faint cracking and popping sound drew my gaze upward and then down. The white curtains along the top of the bed’s canopy and the sides had been swaying in the breeze generated by the two overhead fans. Now, they were covered in a thin layer of frost.
Fuck.
A hollow, dropping sensation hit my gut. Fuck. That was me. My will—or, more appropriately, my manifested rage.
Watching the icy vines swirling down the bedposts, groaning softly as they thickened, a slow, dark, and heady satisfaction slid through me.
One side of my lip curled while the frosted vines spread across the foot of the bed, their thin, feathery tendrils and jagged, fractured edges glistening as they spread outward, creeping over the blanket—
Poppy drew up her legs, shivering.
The breath that punched out of me formed a faint, misty cloud.
Shit. I tamped down the fury, mercilessly quelling the throbbing essence inside me.
The icy vines retracted, slipping into the shadows until they disappeared.
The air warmed by several degrees but still remained cooler than it should be.
I rolled onto my side and wrapped my arm around Poppy’s waist, tucking her close to me and breathing in her sweet jasmine scent. I pressed a kiss to her shoulder.
She wiggled the curve of her ass, and my dick immediately hardened.
I ignored it. She needed to sleep. So did I.
Forcing my mind to empty, I closed my eyes.
I must’ve finally dozed off because the next thing I knew, my arm fell against the bed, and my body tilted forward into the empty space in front of me.
My eyes snapped open and immediately went to the gap between the curtains.
The bedchamber was cast in shadows as Poppy walked through slivers of moonlight, as naked as she’d been when we got into bed.
For a moment—okay, maybe several—I got distracted as she stopped at the wall of windows, angling her body slightly to the left.
My gaze drifted over the sweet swell of her breast and the tangled waves and curls of her hair to the thick curve of her ass an inch or two below the ends.
It wasn’t my fault. Standing in the moonlight, she looked like the goddess she was.
And fuck, she was gorgeous.
But she was also just standing there, staring out the glass wall. A slight frown pulled at my lips. Had she heard something?
“My Queen?” I called out, rising onto an elbow.
She didn’t respond.
I sat up. “Poppy.”
Still no response.
Concern took root. I tossed off the blanket and swung myself to the edge of the bed. Stepping down from the platform, I quickly crossed to where she stood.
“Poppy?” I repeated, stepping in front of her.
She only stared out the window with unfocused eyes. Was she sleepwalking? If so, it would be a first. I followed her stare to the grayish rocks of the Elysium Peaks high above the forest of elms, the jagged edges softened in the moonlight.
I didn’t see shit.
Turning my attention back to her, I placed my hand on her shoulder.
Poppy’s eyes shot to mine, the flecks of blue and brown so small and still against the green of her irises that I almost couldn’t see them. “I can almost see myself there,” she said, her voice thin and distant.
“Where?”
Her gaze slid from mine, and she lifted a hand. “There.”
She was pointing at the Cliffs. My brows drew together. “What do you mean?”
She didn’t respond; she just continued staring at the Cliffs of Sorrow with her arm raised.
She had to still be asleep. Possibly dreaming.
And only the gods knew what her mind was showing her after the night we’d had in Stonehill.
She’d been quiet from the moment we left the streets that seemed to be owned by death.
Tension curled through my limbs. I dipped my head and searched eyes that were now focused on mine.
The skin under my hand was warm, and there wasn’t even a hint of crimson in her eyes. I let out a small breath of relief.
“Come on, sweetheart.” Curling my other hand around the one she still had raised, I lowered her arm. “Let’s go back to bed.”
Poppy gave no indication that she’d heard me. Concern continued to grow as I realized I would have to carry her. Bending, I slid an arm under her locked knees and another around her waist.
The moment I lifted her into my arms, she blinked rapidly and looked around. She started to pull away. “Cas—?”
“It’s okay.” I held her tighter to my chest as her head swung toward mine. “I’m just taking you back to bed.”
“What?” She clutched my shoulders. “I wasn’t in bed?”
“No.” Dipping my head, I kissed her forehead, her confusion gathering with a tartness in my throat. “I think you were sleepwalking.” I reached the bed, keeping my concerns locked down. “Hold on.”
“Sleepwalking?” Her grip on my shoulders tightened as I stepped onto the platform. “I’ve…”
Poppy didn’t finish as I laid her on the bed. Keeping my eyes on her, I swung my legs over to her other side and reclined beside her.
“You’ve never done that before?” I asked, unsure if that was good or bad. I grabbed the blanket and tugged it up.
“I don’t…think so.”
I worked an arm over her waist and pulled her tightly to my front. “Or you don’t remember?”
“I…I remember falling out of bed when I was young after having a nightmare,” she said with a shiver. “But I don’t think that’s the same.”
I didn’t either. “You saw some really messed-up stuff tonight. That’s probably the cause.”
“Yeah,” she murmured, wiggling around until her face was tucked under my chin. “Probably.”
Smoothing a hand up her back, I brushed my lips across the crown of her head. “Go back to sleep.”
“Kind of hard to do,” she said, her voice muffled, “when I’m wondering if I’ll get up again.”
“You won’t,” I promised. “I’ll make sure of it.”