I stared at him in disbelief. “If you’d let me finish a sentence, I was about to say I would never forgive myself.”
His stare softened. “And I would never forgive myself if you went into the heart of the Ascended without me.” He clasped the back of my neck. “Just as I haven’t for letting Cas go all those years ago.”
Oh, gods. “Kieran—”
“Don’t forget what he means to me, Poppy. I’ve known him my whole damn life,” he said. “We shared the same crib more times than not. We took our first steps together. Sat at the same table most nights, refusing to eat the same vegetables. We explored tunnels and lakes, pretended that fields were new, undiscovered kingdoms. We were inseparable. And that didn’t change as we grew older.” His voice roughened, and he dropped his forehead to mine. “He was and still is a part of me.”
I closed my eyes against the burn accompanying the images that his words brought forth. Them toddling about together, Kieran on two legs and four. Holding each other as they napped. Coming home covered in dirt and the gods only knew what else.
“Where I went, Cas was there. Where he traveled, I followed. The only time we have ever been separated and couldn’t get back to one another was when they held him captive—and now. But I was there for him afterward. I watched him night after night, waking in a panic and thinking that he was back in that cell. I saw what had been done to him. How he couldn’t stand to be touched at one point. How even the sight of bathwater caused him to freeze up.”
“Bathwater?” I asked, half afraid.
“They wanted him clean when they wanted him.”
Oh, gods.
Nausea churned. I shook, caught between rage and despair and shock because my mother had been one of his abusers. How could Casteel even look at me—?
I stopped myself from going down that path. He knew who I was.
“What he means to me has nothing to do with a damn bond,” Kieran said. “I need to go as badly as you do, and he needs me there just as badly as he needs you.”
Casteel did need Kieran.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked. “I forgot.”
“It’s understandable that you would.”
“No, it’s really not.” My grief was mine, and it was potent. But it was no more devastating than what Kieran or anyone else who cared for Casteel was experiencing. “I won’t forget it again.”
Kieran’s forehead slid against mine as he nodded. “We’re on the same page then.”
“We are.” I blinked back tears.
“Then who will be Crown Regent, meyaah Liessa?”
It was hard to focus when all I wanted to do was hug Kieran and sob. I wanted to sit down and have a good cry, but there wasn’t time for that.
I pulled away, forcing myself to think over what Kieran had suggested. Worrying my lower lip, I looked down at my closed hand. The ring had warmed to my skin. I didn’t know what kind of shape Casteel would be in when I found him. He could be okay or not, but he would want Kieran to be with me and to be there for him. It couldn’t be just Kieran and me or a handful of others. No Queen would travel across a realm without guards. But we needed the fire of the gods.
“I saw Reaver in his mortal form earlier.”
Kieran arched a brow. “That…was random.”
“He’s blond.”
“Thanks for sharing?”
“He was also completely naked while perched on a pillar,” I added.
“I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“Me, neither,” I murmured. “But the point is, we need to bring a draken with us. They can help. Not just with…with Casteel but also with my father. Nektas wants him back.”
“I agree.” He paused. “But I have a feeling I won’t like what you’re about to suggest. To bring Reaver with us. The other draken will be here soon. Aurelia shifted—”
“For only a few minutes. I at least know Reaver feels comfortable enough in his mortal form to do it for longer than that.”
“Great.” Kieran appeared as if he’d rather face down an army of skeleton soldiers again.
“He’ll need clothing.”
“Don’t know why you’re telling me this.”
“You two appear to be about the same size.”
Kieran stared at me and then cursed. “Whatever. I’ll see what I have.”
I grinned, and it incited a confusing mix of emotions. It felt odd. Even a little wrong. But it was also a relief to know that I could still find humor despite what I held in my hand.
Then I remembered what else Reaver had told me. “This may not be the best moment to bring this up, but when I talked to Reaver, I found out that I will have to feed eventually. And, apparently, because I’m a god, I can feed off anyone. Except the draken. Even mortals. Who knew?” I said, then told him what Reaver believed about how often I would need to feed. “But there’s more. It seems using eather can weaken me. He doesn’t know how much I can use before it has an effect. I don’t think it includes anything I was able to do before—”