A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire (Blood and Ash 2)

Blood spurted in a hot spray. Whatever he was about to say ended on a gurgle. The club fell from his hand, and then he toppled like a tree, straight and forward, taking me down with him.

I hit the pine-needled, snow-crusted ground with a grunt as air punched out of my lungs. The man was limp, his grotesquely masked face smashed into my shoulder.

“Dammit,” I muttered as his heavy weight sank into me. He smelled like rot and other things I didn’t want to think about. I tipped my head back against the ground. “This is just great.”

A flutter of wings drew my gaze to the sky. My eyes narrowed as that large hawk from before appeared overhead, gracefully circling before disappearing into the trees. A wing, caressed by the sun, gleamed silver. I really hoped my new cloak didn’t end up drenched in blood.

Sighing, I gathered up my strength and shoved at the man, managing to get him at least partway off my chest. I drew in a deep breath—

The man was suddenly lifted up and tossed aside like he was nothing more than a bag of small rocks. I had no idea where he landed. All I could do was stare at Casteel.

He stood above me, his face splattered with dots of red. “You’re bleeding.”

“You have three arrows sticking out of you.”

“You’ve been injured. Where?” He knelt beside me, ignoring my somewhat unnecessary observation.

“I’m fine.” I sat up, my eyes glued to the arrow jutting from his stomach as I sheathed my dagger. “Does it hurt?”

“What?”

“The arrows.” I paused as he grasped my left arm, pushing the cloak aside. The arrows that are sticking out of your body.”

“It’s nothing more than an annoyance.” He turned my arm, and I winced. “Sorry,” he said gruffly as he exposed the tear in the sleeve of my tunic.

“They’re inside your body,” I repeated. “How can that only be an annoyance? Is it because you’re from an elemental bloodline?”

“Yes.” His features sharpened as he carefully peeled back the edge of my sweater. “The wounds will heal as soon as I pull the arrows out.”

“Then why haven’t you done that yet?”

“Because they will not fester, unlike your wound if dirt gets into it.” His gaze flicked up, and his eyes snagged my focus. The pupils seemed larger. “Are you worried about me, Princess?”

I clamped my mouth shut.

“You are, aren’t you? I heard you scream my name when I fell from the horse,” he continued, and it was weird for him to tease after riding in silence for hours—and with three arrows sticking out of him. “Your concern warms the same heart you’ve so grievously wounded.”

I shot him a glare. “You’re no good to me dead.”

One side of his lips quirked up as he stared at my arm. “Looks like a flesh wound. You’ll live.”

“I told you I was fine.”

“Still needs to be covered.” He rose, bringing me with him. Stepping back, he tore off a piece of his cloak. “Not the most hygienic of options, but it will work until we reach Spessa’s End.”

The crunch of needles drew my gaze. I saw Delano slinking between the pines, still in his wolven form. Streaks of red stained his fur. His pale-eyed gaze moved from Casteel to me, and then he took off in a powerful lunge, darting between the trees.

“Where is he going?”

“Probably to retrieve the horses,” Casteel answered.

I glanced up at him. He stood beside me, holding my arm in one hand and the cloth in the other, but he made no move to cover the seeping wound. He was just standing there, the hollows of his cheeks shadowed.

The throbbing in my arm fell to the wayside as concern did take root. “Are you sure you’re all right?” I asked. “Maybe you should pull those arrows out or something.”

His throat worked on a swallow, and his lips parted. There was the barest hint of fangs.

“Casteel,” Kieran called out from behind us.

The Prince blinked, lifting his head to look over my shoulder. His pupils seemed even bigger, crowding out the amber of his irises. Instinct sent a shiver of warning through me. “I’m fine.”

“You sure about that?” Kieran asked.

I watched Casteel closely, wondering what was wrong with him. “Your eyes,” I whispered. “The pupils are really large.”

“They do that sometimes.” He cleared his throat, finally moving as he repeated louder, “I’m fine.” He wrapped the strip of cloak around my upper arm. “This may hurt.”

It didn’t feel all that great as he tightened the makeshift bandage, tying it so it stayed in place. Once done, he lowered my arm and draped the cloak over it. I watched him step back and look down at himself, still…well, still concerned for him. “Thank you.”

His gaze flew to mine, and there seemed to be a bit of surprise in those odd eyes. He nodded and then looked at Kieran. “Are there any left?”

“Those alive ran back to whatever homes they’d fashioned for themselves,” Kieran stated. “Naill is scouting up ahead to make sure we don’t run into any more.”

Wanting to know how these people knew what Kieran and Casteel were, I twisted at the waist—

Every single thought fled. My mouth dropped open. “You’re naked!”

“I am,” Kieran replied.

And he was.

Like completely naked, and I saw way too much tawny-hued skin. Way too much. I quickly spun around, my wide eyes clashing with Casteel’s.

“You should see your face right now.” Casteel gripped the arrow in his stomach. “It looks like you’ve been sunbathing.”

“Because he’s naked,” I hissed. “Like, super naked.”

“What do you think happens when he shifts forms?”

“The last time his pants actually stayed on!”

“And sometimes they don’t.” Casteel shrugged.

“Those pants were looser, I suppose,” Kieran stated. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. It’s only skin.”

What I saw was not only skin. He was…well, his body was a lot like Casteel’s. Lean, hard muscle and…

I wasn’t going to think about what I saw.

At a loss for what to say, I blurted out in a whisper, “He has to be cold!”

“Wolven body temperatures run higher than normal. I’m just a little chilled,” Kieran commented. “As I’m sure you noticed.”

Casteel smirked. “I doubt she knows what you’re referencing.”

I inhaled deeply through my nose and exhaled slowly. “I know exactly what he’s referencing, thank you very much.”

“How do you know that?” Casteel lifted his brows, and I noticed that his pupils seemed to have returned to their normal size. “If you know what that means, then someone has been very naughty.”

“I know that because—” I sucked in air as he yanked the arrow free. “Oh, my gods.”

“It looks worse than it is.” He tossed the arrow aside and then reached for the one in his left shoulder.

I started to turn away but remembered that what was behind me was far more traumatizing. “I hope you have an extra set of clothes,” I said to Kieran.

“I do. As soon as Delano arrives with the horses, I’ll be all prim and proper again.”

I flinched as Casteel pulled the second arrow out. “I don’t think you’ve ever been prim and proper.”

“That’s true,” Kieran said, and I thought he’d moved closer. “You took out the mouthy one?”

I nodded as Casteel cursed when the arrow he’d been pulling on most likely got stuck on something important. Like an organ.

“With your dagger?” Kieran sounded impressed.

“That and my sparkling personality.”

The wolven snorted. “It was probably the latter that did him in.”

My stomach twisted as Casteel ripped out the third and final arrow. I swallowed. Hard. “I think he broke the bow, though.”

“But he didn’t break you.” Casteel straightened his tunic, the tension bracketing his mouth easing. “And that’s all that matters.”

Once Delano returned with the horses, and Naill reported back that the road ahead appeared clear, we continued on our way.

With a completely clothed Kieran, thank the gods.

We rode on in silence, everyone watchful and alert for signs of the Dead Bones Clan. The sky was darkening to a midnight blue as the road eventually widened, and the temperatures dropped even more. As soon as the crowd of elms thinned out, I figured it was safe to speak. I was practically bursting to do so. “I have so many questions about the Dead Bones Clan.”

“Shocking,” muttered Kieran, who rode to our left.

Casteel laughed softly, and that was the first sound he’d really made since climbing back onto the horse. I wondered—not worried—that he was still hurting from the arrows, but if I asked, I would then be subjected to his overdramatic teasing.

“Can’t promise we’ll be able to answer those questions, but what would you like to know?” he asked, his arm loose around me.

“Why did the Dead Bones Clan attack like that?” I started there. “I get that they survive outside a Rise that way, but it’s obvious we weren’t Craven.”

“The Dead Bones Clan isn’t just anti-Craven. They are anti…everyone,” Naill said from behind us. “Sometimes, they let people pass on the road. Sometimes they don’t. We can only hope that Alastir and his group made it through, but they were armed. As will be those who are behind us.”

Gods, I hadn’t even thought of them. I hoped they made it. I liked Alastir, and I really hoped the people of New Haven didn’t run into any more trouble.

“If they got Alastir and that group, they probably wouldn’t have come after us. I’m betting they’re hungry,” Kieran said, and my lips curled.