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)
Casteel was quiet as he picked up my hand and washed away the blood that had dried there. He cleaned both as I watched him, his brows furrowed in concentration as he checked between my fingers.
“I know you’re annoyed with me,” he said once he’d finished. “But I’m not going to allow you to put yourself into stasis again.”
I started to deny that being a possibility, but when he looked pointedly at my trembling arms, I sighed.
“I know you want to help people,” he said, tossing the soiled linen into a basket before making quick work of the hooks on my vest. “I understand that it is an instinctual need. But you also have to look out for yourself.”
“I know,” I whispered, letting my forehead fall onto his shoulder, breathing in his scent. “Do you know how many were killed?” I asked.
“Other than those in the warehouse?” He peeled the vest aside and let it fall to the floor. “Malik said there were about twenty found among the debris. All mortal.”
I closed my eyes. “So far?”
“So far.” He curved his hand around the back of my head and gently pulled me back. His lips brushed my forehead. “Arms up.”
I wearily lifted them.
He tugged off the blouse that smelled of blood and…dead ceeren. “That is less than I expected.”
It was.
“Stand for me, my Queen.”
I dragged myself to my feet.
Casteel tugged my leggings and undergarments down. I placed a hand on his shoulder to steady myself as I stepped out of the dirty clothing.
Thank the gods I hadn’t kept the pretty tunic on.
“I don’t think you’ve ever removed my clothing so…clinically before.”
Casteel let out a low chuckle. “You think I don’t feel anything while undressing you?”
Before I could respond, he took my hand and pressed it to his groin. My breath caught as I felt him through his breeches. He was hard and thick, straining against my palm.
“Does that change your mind?” he asked.
“A little.”
“A little,” he scoffed, pulling my hand away. “That is the wrong word choice when your hand is on my cock.”
I laughed, and it sounded weird in the bathing chamber, especially after everything that had happened. But the laugh brought a faint smile to his lips and softened the harsher lines of his features.
“You’re going to get cleaned up. Then, I’m going to feed you,” he said, straightening. “And then you will sleep.”
“What happened to fucking?” I asked.
Casteel’s eyes flared to a bright amber. “The only thing I want more than that is for you to be healthy and strong.” He held on to me as I stepped into the tub. “The fucking can—and will—commence later.”
“Promises, promises,” I murmured, sinking into the warm water as he turned it off—
A slow rumble filled the chamber. The chandelier started to rock, the glow bouncing off the white walls.
The tremor ended fairly quickly, but my heart was still pounding. I pulled my knees to my chest and watched the swaying of the chandelier slow, suddenly cold despite the hot water.
“Hey.” Casteel’s voice was soft as he clasped the nape of my neck. “This one was weaker than the last.”
“It’s not that.”
“What is it, then?”
My chest constricted as I dragged my gaze from the chandelier to his face. Words climbed their way up my throat, lodging there. Just two words, but speaking them made it real. Gave them life. They were two words I didn’t think someone in my position, responsible for not one but two kingdoms, should ever say.
I couldn’t.
Because I was brave.
I was fearless.
However, when I spoke, I didn’t sound brave or fearless. “The quakes?”
He lowered to his knees beside the tub, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I think I know what they mean,” I said. I didn’t want to say more.
But I had to.
“I think one of the Primals who helped us…” I swallowed. “I think one of them died.”
CASTEEL
I jolted awake, my sharp inhale piercing the silence of the bedchamber as the essence throbbed. My mind immediately went to Poppy.
She was in my arms, lying on her side. She wasn’t standing by the glass wall again.
Letting my head fall back onto the pillow, I waited for my pounding heart to calm. What had happened when I woke a few hours ago to find her standing at the wall wasn’t anything like the two nights before. Poppy hadn’t acknowledged my voice or touch this time. It’d scared the fucking shit out of me when she just stood there, staring at the darkness beyond. I’d eventually guided her back to the bed but didn’t shut my eyes until she slept.
This shit wasn’t normal.
It had to be the stress of what’d happened in Stonehill, then the attack on Lowertown, and, well, everything. It was getting to her. I could tell as much as she’d sat in the tub, her legs drawn close to her chest. After saying what I’d already suspected, that a Primal god had fallen, she hadn’t spoken again. I’d cleaned her up and then fed her from a wound I created on my wrist. Having her at my vein would’ve been too much for us both. Not that my blood hadn’t affected her—both of us—but she was clearly exhausted and quickly fell asleep afterward. Only then did I leave her long enough to clean myself up.