Total pages in book: 401
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
“I found it sort of relaxing.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I was a bit of a…nervous child.”
“Really?” I had an even harder time picturing that since the Naill I knew was as calm and collected as a cat napping in the sun.
He nodded. “I don’t think I do well with idleness.” He rocked back and then rose. “All right. I just need you to get down so I can see what it looks like.”
Thank the gods.
Hopping down, I winced at the twinge I felt between my thighs.
Naill’s head jerked up. “I didn’t prick you, did I?”
My cheeks heated as I shook my head. “I…just stepped down wrong.”
His brows furrowed as he knelt again, revealing Casteel. My husband was seated in an arrogant sprawl on the couch—a smug, pleased sprawl. He smirked. He hadn’t needed any adjustments to his clothing when Naill arrived with an armful of garments. The sleeved and sleeveless, charcoal-gray tunics that now hung in the walk-in closet—Casteel had reminded me earlier that it wasn’t a walk-in wardrobe—had fit him so well they appeared to practically mold to him.
“Stepped down wrong?” he questioned.
“Yes.” I narrowed my eyes at him.
That smirk of his deepened until his stupid dimple appeared.
Rolling my eyes, I looked away, my mind wandering to the source of the tenderness between my thighs as Naill made a few more adjustments. Last night was…
I didn’t even know what it was.
I had flashes of memory, like Casteel and I in front of the windows. I remembered waking, though I didn’t remember how or why I’d walked to the windows. I did recall…fondling Casteel and that he’d resisted at first. But that had changed quickly—the vague memory of me asking him to fuck me had changed his mind.
And he most certainly had fucked me.
Everything was a bit of a blur, but I remembered the feeling of him as he held me against the window and took me from behind. And then in the bed, his body caging mine, pushing me over the edge again and again until exhaustion claimed us both.
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw between the gap in the curtains was the Cliffs. I remembered staring at them last night. I remembered—
“All right.” Naill rose with the needle jutting out from the corner of his mouth. If I even attempted to do that, I would likely end up choking on said needle. “Have a look,” he said, walking past me to the walk-in closet. He opened the door, revealing a full-length mirror hanging from the back that I hadn’t noticed in my explorations.
My eyes widened as I stepped in front of it. The tunic was the same color as the one Casteel wore and made of some sort of soft material that was fitted to the chest. The quarter-length sleeves tapered gently while the tunics Naill brought for Casteel were either sleeveless or fitted to the forearms. The seam parted the tunic into halves just below the navel, revealing the black leggings I wore. The style was similar to the knee-length ones Casteel had been given and was unbelievably flattering on my shape. More importantly, it allowed for quick access to a dagger.
The pattern of vines in gold thread that caught the light was absolutely stunning. The brocaded vines climbed upward in a symmetrical design along either side of the central panel beginning near the hem. The golden swirls converged at the chest and then swept outward toward the shoulders like creeping ivy, continuing along the stiff collar and the tops of the arms. The vines covered the forearms of Casteel’s tunic. It was the same design I’d seen on Kieran’s and in the flesh of the Ancients…and Casteel.
“I figured you wouldn’t want a gown,” Naill was saying, having pulled the needle from his mouth and done only the gods knew what with it. “So, I thought something formal yet relaxed would work. But there are other tunics—”
“No, this is great. It’s like a combination of a gown and a shirt,” I told him with a smile. The length fluttered around my ankles as I twisted to the side. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“No problem.” He scratched the back of his neck and ducked his chin. “I’m glad you like it.”
Moving closer to the mirror, I ran my fingers over the embroidery. “This design. What made you choose it?”
“Oh, man.” Naill dropped his arm. “It’s something I saw beneath the garrison in the old tombs at Aegea.”
My brows rose.
“Yeah, I know. That’s morbid as fuck, but…I don’t know.” He lifted a shoulder. “The pattern carved into the tombs always stuck with me.”
That was a little morbid. “Were they tombs like the crypts in the Skotos?”
“No,” Casteel answered. “Those were for the Forgotten Ones.”
In other words, they were for the gods who’d fought against the Elemental Atlantians. Gods that had been chained deep in the Skotos and left to die slow deaths of starvation. I shivered at the reminder of my brief time in those crypts.