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

“Drink,” he gasped, lifting my head to his pectoral.

“Drink from me, Poppy.”

It had to be his bite and the feeling of him inside me, of my body tightening around him. There was no hesitation. I kissed the cut, and my mouth tingled as blood touched my lips, my tongue. Warm and thick, it coated my mouth. I swallowed the decadent, lush taste of him.

“Gods.” Casteel shuddered as he held me there, folding his other arm under my shoulder.

There was a burst of vivid colors—blues and purples. Lilacs. Was that the sweet taste of his blood? Was it more? There was a sound in my ears suddenly, a trickle of water—

Casteel started to move again. His blood…it was pure sin and addictive as I imagined the flower my nickname was derived from was. I could drown in it, in the sensations he elicited from me. When he pulled my head back, I started to protest, but then his mouth was on mine, and we were both lost.

There was no sense of rhythm or pace. We were frenzied. The effects of his blood and bite and my blood became madness. Tension built again, coiling deeply, stroking tighter with every deep, plunging thrust of our hips. The pressure spun until it whipped out, rocking me to my core again, and he was right there with me, toppling over the edge and falling and falling.

And he didn’t stop.

He kept moving over me, in me, his mouth gliding over mine. He took me, and I seized him. We were a tangle of legs and arms, of flesh and fire, and the build was slower. Everything was slower as we took our time, acting as if we had all the time in the world, even though we didn’t. And when we were finally spent, we didn’t let go of each other. Not even as he finally drifted to sleep, his arms still tight around me. Not even when I joined him, my cheek resting upon the place I’d once thrust a dagger into.

And that was how we woke hours later, after the sun had set, to the long trill of a songbird. A call that was answered.

A signal.

I sat up, staring into the darkness beyond the terrace doors.

Casteel’s chest pressed to my back a moment before he kissed my shoulder. “They’re here.”

Chapter 38

Moonlight glinted off the golden swords strapped to Casteel’s side as we walked across the Rise. Delano, who had met us at the door, had given them to him.

The short-sleeved, lightweight cloak I wore over the dark blue tunic and leggings had been Casteel’s idea. If any Ascended were among those nearing Spessa’s End, they may be able to see me with their heightened vision. That was the only condition Casteel had given when I rose from the bed.

“The hood goes up as soon as they arrive, and it stays up for as long as it can,” he’d said. “Don’t make yourself a target.”

“I have good news, potentially bad news, and hopefully good news,” Emil said as he met us just outside a battlement. “Our scouts have reported that it’s the smaller group that’s set to arrive.”

“How many?” Casteel asked.

“About two hundred.”

“I think I can guess what the potentially bad news is,” Casteel said. “Since it wouldn’t have taken this long to arrive, they waited on the larger army and for night to fall.”

Meaning, there were most likely vampry among them, and there was at least several hundred more not far behind.

“That and they’ve brought what appears to be catapults with them,” Emil said. “These walls may be damaged by whatever they plan to throw at us, but I doubt they will have anything that can take them down if they remained standing throughout the War of Two Kings.”

“These walls will not fall,” Casteel vowed.

“What is the hopefully good news?” I asked.

“Since they waited for their larger armies to join them, it’s hopefully given us time for reinforcements to arrive,” Naill answered as he crossed the Rise.

“Hopefully being the operative word,” Emil added. “There are a lot of what-ifs here. Alastir and Kieran would’ve had to travel nonstop. A sizable group of our soldiers would’ve had to be near Saion’s Cove and ready to travel.”

Fear trickled through me, but I didn’t give it room to breathe—to grow. Having fear wasn’t a weakness. Only the foolish and the false claimed to feel no fear, but that emotion could spread like a plague if given too much thought. I couldn’t think of what could happen—if we weren’t able to hold off the Ascended. If Kieran and Alastir hadn’t been able to send reinforcements in time.

“And that’s not taking into consideration the mist in the Skotos and how it would’ve responded to such a presence.” Emil paused. “Your Highness.”

I jolted at the title. “Excuse me?”

Casteel glanced at me, a slight grin appearing in the moonlight. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a Prince.”

My eyes narrowed. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“And we’re married,” he continued. “Which makes you a Princess.”

“I know that, but the Princess thing isn’t official. I haven’t been…crowned or whatever.”

“It’s customary to refer to you as Your Highness or my Princess, even before the crowning,” Naill explained.

“Can we not?” I asked.

“It would be considered a great dishonor.” Naill paused. “Your Highness.”

I looked at him, and the Atlantian smiled innocently at me.

Casteel snorted.

“By the way, congratulations on the marriage,” Emil said, drawing my gaze to him. My senses told me he was sincere. “I have a feeling you will make a very interesting Queen.”

Queen?

Oh gods, how in the world did I forget that in the whole this-marriage-is-now-for-real thing? There was no way Malik would be in any shape to lead the kingdom once and if he was freed. Casteel would take the throne. Eventually. And I would be…

Okay.

I was not going to think about that.

“Then we will be calling you—Your Majesty,” Emil said, winking at me. “Isn’t that right, Cas?”

“Right,” he replied flatly, placing his hand on my hip. “Both of you should be getting into position.”

Emil and Naill made a great show of bowing before they left. “What was that about?” I asked. “You sending them off like that?”

“It’s official,” Casteel said, watching Emil as he stopped to speak to one of the Guardians. “I’m going to have to kill him.”

My head whipped in his direction. “What? Why?”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Confused, I glanced back to where Emil was walking toward the stairwell. “How does he look at me?”

His hand was a scalding brand on my hip, even through the layers of clothing. “He looks at you like I do.”

My brows lifted. “That’s not true. You look at me like...”

Those heated amber eyes met mine. “How do I look at you, Princess?”

“You look at me like...” I cleared my throat. “Like you want to eat me.”

Casteel’s eyes narrowed into thin slits as his gaze return to Emil. “Exactly,” he snarled.

I stared at him and then laughed. His gaze flew to mine, his eyes bright and wide like they always were when I laughed. “You’re actually jealous.”

“Of course, I am. At least I can acknowledge that.”

And he was jealous. I could feel it, an ashy coating in the back of my throat. “You are…”

“Devilishly handsome? Wickedly clever?” He turned back to the western sky, where it still carried the haze of fire. “Stunningly charismatic?”

“That wasn’t what I was going for,” I told him. “More like ridiculous.”

“Endearingly ridiculous,” he corrected.

I rolled my eyes. “You know, not once have I even considered seeking the affections of another. Not since I met you.”

“I know.” He bent his head, brushing his lips over my brow. “My jealousy is not rooted in anything you’ve done.”

“Or in logic.”

“That we will have to disagree on. I know how he looks at you.”

“I think you’re seeing things.”

“I know what I see.” He pulled back, his eyes meeting mine. “Every time I look at you, I see a gift I’m not worthy of.”

My breath caught as my heart swelled. It wasn’t new—him saying things like that. What was new was me believing them. “You are worthy,” I told him. “Most of the time.”

He cracked a grin. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

I wondered if that was true as we stepped into a parapet. Bows and stocked quivers were placed against the wall. I looked down at the dark road and fields ahead, seeing nothing.

“Are they down there?” I asked, recalling what I’d learned when they discussed strategies. “The wolven?”

“They are in the fields, well hidden, even from vampry eyes.” He placed his hands on the stone ledge, and the ring on his finger snagged my gaze. “The Guardians are in place, waiting for my lead. Those who can wield a sword are in the courtyard, and the others, the ones skilled with a bow, will be up here.”

Pulling my gaze from his ring, I looked over my shoulder. They were already arriving. Mortals who were too old to lift more than a bow. The Guardians escorted them to different parapets. The trickle of fear returned as I turned back to Casteel. “How many do we have? The final count?”

His jaw hardened. “One hundred and twenty-six.”

I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes as I forced myself to take a deep, even breath.

“I wish you’d gone with Alastir and Kieran,” he said quietly. “You would be far away from here. Safe.”

I opened my eyes.

Casteel stared into the darkness. “But I’m glad you’re here. Spessa’s End needs you. I need you.” He looked at me then. “But I still wish you weren’t here.”