and generous with your home,” Hildi says.
“No, stay here.” I frown. “Why would I need credit?”
Hildi leans against the door, her eyes skimming from my head to my toes. “Because you’re made of stone and even though that girl has spent months chipping it away, there’s a long way to go. Doing something like this? Even if it is just to make her feel better, it’s a step in the right direction.”
“What direction?” I ask, still a little confused.
“To becoming a real man.”
Chapter 23
Morgan
I don’t know what to expect when I open my eyes, but this isn’t it. The room is still freezing, but it’s a room, not a cell. I’m propped on a bed made of the softest down, a blood-red canopy overhead.
My throat aches, sore from whatever Casteel had done to me. Magic, I suppose, a level I’d never encountered before. He never hesitated—never even thought about how to use it.
Rubbing the tender flesh around my throat, I sit, taking in the room. It’s opulent, like something out of a gothic fairy tale. Gilded mirrors, velvet fabric. Candles and lanterns cast the room in a shiny glow.
A movement catches my attention and I look to my left, both hands reaching for the blades stuffed in the pockets of my suit.
“I removed all the weapons,” Casteel says from the chair next to the bed. His blond hair glints in the candlelight. Two bandages cover the wounds I’d given him on his neck. I’d suggest we’re even, but from the angry spark in his eye I suspect he doesn’t feel the same.
I swing my legs over the bed. “I don’t need weapons to fight back.”
“I’m aware,” he says. His voice is a slow drawl. Not the harsh tone he’d used in my dream about Bunny. “You’re quite resourceful.”
I stare at the scar under his jaw. “I learned from the best.”
The snarl in response is faint—but there—the beast is just beneath the surface. I have no doubt picking just a little will bring him out. I restrain myself. I’m not ready to fight him. Not yet.
“Why the finery?” I ask, gesturing to the room. “I thought I’d wake in a cell.”
“Contrary to your beliefs, Morgan, you are not an enemy of the Queen. She’s been trying to get you to come here for a very long time. She gave you the key as a child, she sent guides in the form of the cat and prince to guide you through the gates. She opened portals, giving you the chance. And you almost took them—all of them—but your little flock thwarted you every step of the way.”
“You make it sound so peaceful. So easy.”
“Ultimately, she had to get extreme. Take what you cared for the most to get you here.” He smiles, two rows of perfect, white teeth. “It worked.”
“If I’m not the enemy of the Darkness, then what am I?” The question is naïve and I know the answer. I’ve felt her tug for months—if not years. The way it felt to spread the virus to Xavier. The loss I felt after we performed the spell and split from one another.
Casteel doesn’t answer anyway. He just stands and says, “You’re to stay here. There’s a servant here for your needs. Food, clothing, entertainment. She’ll get it for you.”
“And what if I don’t?” I didn’t come here to be a guest of the Morrigan. I came to find my Guardians.
With barely concealed restraint he steps forward and reaches for my chin. I bat his hand away, which raises his ire, and he clamps both of his hands around my wrists. “Dangerous things live in this castle, Morgan. I’m only one of them. Don’t stray from your rooms, do you understand?”
It’s a thinly veiled threat, letting me know exactly how much he would enjoy paying me back for the wounds to his neck. I’m not afraid of him; he’s nothing but an obstacle between me and my mission.
I nod anyway, letting him know I heard him, and watch him walk out the door.
Chapter 24
Bunny
Cloaked in the shadows, I listen to Casteel walk away from Morgan’s room. I heard every word of their conversation—the small threats and the restraint in Morgan’s voice. I, too, had been surprised when they brought her to the living quarters, far away from the dungeons below. Especially after attacking Casteel so viscously.
I stand outside her room for the briefest of moments, feeling the familiar longing—I may have betrayed her, but we are still bonded. There’s only one way to cut the ties with a mate: death.