Warmth buzzed through me, erasing the prickly sensation in my skin. I swallowed the rich essence of him and then I took what felt like my first real breath. It didn’t burn or open that empty feeling again. It did something entirely different. The blood…
His blood…
It was like liquid fire, stroking to life a different kind of need, one I fell headfirst into. I tilted forward, pressing my breasts against his bare chest. The contact left me hungry in a way much different from earlier but just as potent. I shifted in his lap. We both groaned. Instinct took over, my body knowing what I wanted—what I needed—as I drank from his wrist. I rolled my hips against his, shaking at the intense curling sensation deep in my lower stomach.
His blood…gods. My skin tingled now, becoming overly sensitive. The tips of my breasts ached as they brushed against the fine dusting of hair across his chest. I whimpered, pressing down against the hardness straining through thin pants. I wanted…no, I needed him.
“Whatever you want,” he said, his words a vow. “I will give it to you.”
Him. I wanted him.
Keeping his wrist to my mouth, I planted my hand on his chest and pushed—pushed hard. He fell onto his back as I tilted my hips, rubbing against his length. With shocking strength, he lifted both of us just enough to shove his pants down to his thighs with one hand. The feel of him hot and hard against my lower body dragged a thready moan from me.
“Fuck,” he gasped, his large body shaking. And then he moved again, lifting me in one fluid motion and angling my hips. He brought me down onto him, sliding deep inside me. His wrist smothered my cry of surprise as his hips flexed and thrust upward. Toes curling, I pushed down, matching his pace as I curled myself around his arm, drinking deeply.
“She’s taking too much,” the other man said, his voice closer. “You’ve got to stop her.”
Even in my lust-addled mind, even as tension coiled tighter and tighter inside me, I knew the one who moved under me and in me wouldn’t stop me. He’d let me take it all. He’d let me drain him dry. He’d do that because he...
“For fuck’s sake,” the wolven snarled. A heartbeat later, I felt his arm clamp down on my waist as his fingers pressed into the skin under my jaw. He pulled my head back, but I didn’t fight him because this male’s blood was everything to me.
The one under me sat up, curling an arm around my hips, just below the other’s arm. A sharp swirl of tingles rushed through me. He reached around the wolven’s grip, fisting my hair as he pressed his forehead to mine. Under me, he moved his magnificent body at a furious rhythm. My entire body stiffened and then lightning flew through my veins. My muscles clamped down on him, spasming. My cry mixed with his rough shout as his hips pumped furiously, and he followed me into the wild, mindless bliss that wracked my entire body. Slowly, the tension poured out of me, turning my muscles to liquid. I didn’t know how much time passed, but finally, the hand under my jaw eased, and one of the arms slid away from me. My cheek fell to a warm shoulder, and I sat there, eyes closed and breathing shallowly as he held me tightly to his chest, his hand still tangled in my hair at the back of my head. He nodded, and the wolven left. The click of a nearby door signaled his departure, but I remained, sated and relaxed. The heat of the blood coursing through me cooled. His blood…
Hawke’s blood.
Casteel’s blood.
The nothingness in my mind shattered in an instant. Thoughts flooded me, connecting with memories. They reached into the deepest parts of me, linking with a sense of self. Shock found me first—utter disbelief and anguish over what Alastir had done while we stood at the Chambers of Nyktos and everything that had happened after that.
I’d trusted him.
I…I’d wanted acceptance from the people at the Temple, but they’d called me a Soul Eater. They’d called me a whore. They…they’d called me the Maiden, and I was none of those things. Anger crowded out the horror. A rage that carved itself into every bone in my body. Fury hummed at my very core, striking against the wildness growing inside me. They would pay for what they had done to me. Every single one of them would discover exactly what I was. I would never be struck down like that again. They wouldn’t succeed…
But hadn’t they already?
I could still feel the bolt striking my flesh, tearing through vital parts of me. I’d tasted death. Felt it—the breath I couldn’t take, the heart that no longer beat, and the words I couldn’t speak. I’d been dying, but there had been a different pain, too, a fiery one that had ripped through me. Drink. Keep drinking. That’s it. Keep swallowing. Drink, Poppy, keep drinking for me… The taste of citrus and snow still coated the back of my throat, my lips. Still warmed and filled that gnawing, painful hollowness inside me. I shuddered, and the hand on the back of my head stilled. Oh, gods, they succeeded. He’d…Ascended me.
What had he been thinking? I will not lose you. Ever. I love you, Princess. He hadn’t been thinking. He’d simply been…feeling.
Suddenly, it was like a chest in my mind unlocked, and the lid was thrown off. Emotions poured into me—nearly nineteen years-worth of them that went beyond what had happened in the Temple, the memories and beliefs, experiences and feelings. Nightmares came, too, heavy with desperation and hopelessness. But so did dreams full of such wonder and possibility. Dreams bursting with need and want and love.
I sat back so quickly I lost my balance. An arm dropped to my waist, stopping me before I toppled out of his lap. Through the messy strands of my hair, I saw him, really saw him.
Dark, disheveled hair tumbled across his forehead. Tension bracketed the corners of his mouth, and shadows smudged the skin under his eyes, but they were a bright topaz as they held mine. Neither of us moved or spoke as we stared at one another. I had no idea what he was thinking, and I barely knew my thoughts in that moment. So much had happened, so many things I didn’t understand. Namely, how I was in here after I had Ascended. After he’d done the unthinkable to save me. I remembered the panic in his father’s voice as he pleaded with him not to do it—not to repeat history. But he’d risked—gods, he’d risked everything. And I was alive because of him. I was here because of him. But none of this made sense.
The Ascended were uncontrollable after being turned, dangerous for mortals, let alone an elemental Atlantian. It could take them years to control their thirst, but more unbelievable was that I could still feel all those heady and exhilarating and terrifying emotions within me. I could feel love, and I didn’t think any Ascended was capable of feeling such a miracle. I didn’t understand. Maybe this was some sort of dream? Perhaps I had passed and was in the Vale, an eternity of paradise awaiting me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know if that was the case.
I lifted my trembling hand and pressed my fingers to the warm skin of his cheek. “Casteel.”
Chapter 9
Casteel shuddered as he whispered, “Poppy.”
“Is this real?” I asked.
The golden flecks in his eyes churned fiercely. “There’s nothing more real than right now.”
I don’t know who moved first. Me. Him. Both of us at the same time? It didn’t matter. Our mouths met, and there was nothing gentle about the way we came together. He grasped the back of my head, his hand fisting in my hair. I held onto him, my fingers digging into the skin of his shoulders. It was a wrecking sort of kiss, demanding and raw. We claimed each other. Our lips mashed together. Our teeth clashed. Our arms wrapped fiercely around one another, and the kiss, the way we held each other, became something else entirely. His hands slid down my sides to my hips as he pulled me against him, where I felt him hardening against me once more.
“I need you,” he groaned against my lips. “I need you, Poppy.”
“You have me,” I told him, echoing the words I’d said to him once before. Now, they felt like an unbreakable vow. “Always.”
“Always,” he repeated.
Lifting me from his lap, he stood and then turned, placing me on the center of what I realized was a fairly narrow bed. I got a brief glimpse of the dark walls and fractured sunlight seeping through the cracked boards of a door in the room, but then all I saw was him.
Casteel.
My husband.
My heartmate.
My savior.
Gods, he…he had saved me, believing he’d committed the forbidden act of Ascension. He’d taken that risk, understanding that I would become a vampry. His father hadn’t been able to stop him. Neither had the gods. No one could because he wouldn’t let me go. He refused to lose me.
Because he loved me.
And now he climbed over me, his attention feral and possessive. Every muscle in my body tensed. My leg curled as he slid his hand up my thigh, the rough skin of his palm creating delicious friction. I couldn’t look away from the vivid burn of his eyes. I was absolutely transfixed by them—by him. Slipping an arm under my waist, he flipped me onto my belly. Surprise flickered through me. I started to rise, but the heat of his body against my back pressed me down to the rough blanket. Casteel rained kisses down my spine, over my hips, and then to the swell of my rear, eliciting a shiver from me.
“If you ever tell me to kiss your ass,” he said, “remember that I already have.”
A throaty laugh parted my lips, the sound and act surprising. “I don’t think I’ll forget that.”
“Good.” He lifted me to my knees, using his thigh to urge my legs farther apart. My fingers dug into the coarse material as a tremble of anticipation rolled through me. “I’m not going to last very long,” he warned. “But neither will you.”
I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe with him curling his arm around my waist as his other hand clamped down on my hip. He didn’t move. My pulse thrummed.
“Cas—” His name ended in a sharp cry as he thrust into me.
He pulled me back against him as he plunged into me, over and over, his pace wickedly savage. Pulling my back flush to his chest, he ground his hips against my rear as his hand left my hip and folded over the base of my throat. He pressed his lips to my damp temple. “I love you.”