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A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire



Drawing in a deep breath, I opened my eyes and asked, “Would you have killed her? Tawny? If she had traveled with me, would you have killed her?”

Casteel paused as he reached for a glass and then gripped it, pouring the whiskey until the glass was half full. “I don’t make a habit of killing innocent women.” He poured a second glass. “I would’ve done all that I could to ensure that it would not have been necessary, but her presence could’ve caused a complication that I wouldn’t wish to solve.”

Meaning that, if he had to, he would have. However, he had ensured that the situation hadn’t arisen by forbidding Tawny to travel with me. I didn’t know how to feel about that. What was right or wrong there? None of this meant that Tawny was entirely safe, though. She was destined to Ascend.

But would her or any of the Lords and Ladies in Wait Ascend now that I was missing? All the Ascensions in the kingdom were tied to mine. They still had Casteel’s brother, and they had to have another Atlantian to keep the Prince alive. Without me, they could proceed with the Ascension, unless…

Unless something had happened to Prince Malik? I swallowed hard as I shoved that question aside. It would do no good to ask such a thing, and I doubted Casteel hadn’t already considered that.

He walked the glass of whiskey over to me, and I took it even though I hadn’t asked for it. He moved to stand in front of the fireplace.

Sliding my thumb along the cool glass, I lifted it to my lips and took a small sip. The liquor burned the back of my throat, but the second drink was far smoother. I still had to clear my throat, though. Tawny and I would sneak drinks, and I had helped myself to a sip or five every once in a while, but not nearly enough for me to be used to it. “What do the issues your people are facing have to do with the whole marriage thing?”

“That’s what I’m getting to.” He turned toward me, propping one elbow against the mantel. “But first, my people will obey me to their deaths, both Atlantian and wolven.” He swirled the liquid around in his glass. “I hope between that and the actions I took to remind them that you are not to be harmed, it will go a long way in aiding them in making smart life choices. However, these are not normal circumstances. You are not a normal circumstance.”

“But I have done nothing to your people. I even tried to save one.”

“Many Descenters have done nothing to you, but you once viewed them all as evil and murderous,” he returned. “You once believed that all Atlantians were nothing more than monsters, and yet an Atlantian had never harmed you.”

I opened my mouth.

“It is the same, is it not? The Descenters and I represent death and destruction, although many of them have done nothing more than speak the truth.” His gaze drifted to the softly rolling flames. “You represent a dynasty that has subjugated and decimated their families, stolen from them the lives of the ones they love, their gods, and even their rightful heir. You did none of those things, yet that is what they see when they look upon you. They see the opportunity to take their pound of flesh.”

His words sat like stones in my liquor-warmed belly, and I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” His brows furrowed.

Wheezing from the huge gulp of the whiskey I swallowed, I blinked rapidly. “For what was done to your people,” I told him, my voice hoarse. “To your family. To you. I know I said that last night, and you didn’t want my apologies, but I need to say it again.”

Casteel stared at me. “I think you’ve drunk enough whiskey.” He paused. “Or maybe you should have more.”

I snorted. Like a little piglet. “What you’ve done doesn’t mean I can’t still feel compassion.” I started to take another drink but thought twice. Whatever kind of whiskey this was, it seemed to have a far quicker effect than anything I’d had before. “What you’ve done doesn’t mean I suddenly don’t know or care about what is right and wrong. What was done to your people is horrible.” My gaze dropped to the golden liquid in my glass, thinking of all those names on the walls. Who knew how many were never listed? “And…and what is being done to the people of Solis by the Ascended is horrible. It is all terrible.”

“That it is,” he said quietly.

“I guess I get why they hate me.” I thought of Mr. Tulis and took a larger drink. “I wish they didn’t.”

“As do I. Which is one of the reasons why we must marry.”

My gaze flew to his as I almost choked. “That’s the part I don’t understand. How you’ve come to that conclusion or why. How will that get your brother back? How will that help with limited resources? How will I be…free?”

There was a sharpness to his gaze then. “There’s a chance that some may still disobey my commands. Retribution can be a strong motivator. I, myself, love and enjoy the taste of revenge, as I know you do.”

I started to deny that, but he’d been there when I turned on Lord Mazeen. He would know that my denial would be a lie.

“I must return home to help ease the concerns of the others, where you will be surrounded by many who believe that anyone from the Kingdom of Solis is the lamaea in the flesh.”

“Lamaea?”

“It’s a creature with fins for legs and tails for arms that hides under the beds of children, waiting until the lights are turned off. In the dark, it makes its way out from under the bed to then suck the life from them.”

“Oh.” My lip curled.

“It’s not real. Or at least I’ve never seen one, but as a small child, both my brother and I fought to keep the lights on at night,” he said, and I could see him as a precocious child, hiding under a blanket with wide, golden eyes.

My gaze snagged on how the muscles of his arm curled as he lifted the glass of whiskey to his lips.

Well, I could almost see him as such.

“Wait,” I said, confused. “How does it get out from under the bed if it has fins for legs and tails for arms?”

His lips twitched. “I believe my mother once said it wiggled and slid, like a snake.”

“That’s extremely disturbing.” My nose wrinkled as I glanced at the decanter of whiskey, wondering if I should have another glass. “I also don’t understand the tails for arms part.”

“No one does.” He looked away, dipping his chin as he dragged his fangs over his lower lip. My gaze—my entire being—seemed to be snagged on that act. A subtle shiver danced over my skin, and again.

“The point I’m trying to make is that even though I have ordered that no one is to harm you, you may still be in danger,” he explained. “For some, the idea of revenge is far greater than the fear of certain death.”

It took me a bit to pull my thoughts away from this lamaea creature and the glimpse of his fangs before I could focus on the point of this conversation. “And you believe that marrying me will remove me from danger?”

“Making sure that people know you are part Atlantian and will become my wife should make you off-limits. Especially to those who still have some fear of death and actual common sense.” He took a drink. “You will no longer be the Maiden in their eyes. You will be my fiancée. In their minds, you will become their Princess.”

I mulled over what he was saying, and I didn’t know if it was weariness tugging at me or the liquor dulling my emotions, but I was able to process what he was telling me without throwing my glass at him.

Which I was sure he appreciated.

And probably why he offered the drink in the first place.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“If I should have another glass of whiskey.”

“You can have whatever you want.”

Whatever I wanted? I looked at him, and the wealth of want rising inside of me told me that another glass of whiskey wouldn’t be wise.

Leaning over, I placed the empty tumbler on the table. “You’re marrying me to…protect me. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes, and no.”

While there was warmth in my stomach, my chest felt ice-cold. “What does that mean?”

“It means that marriage will provide you with safety, and it will also provide me with what I want and what my kingdom needs.”

“How will marrying me secure your brother’s release or give your kingdom what it needs?”

He took another drink. “What do you think those who rule over Solis value more? The ability to create more vamprys or to remain living?”

I jerked my head back at the question. “I would hope the latter.”

“I would hope so, too,” he agreed, and a moment passed. “My father believes that Malik is either dead or beyond saving.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “He does?” When Casteel nodded, I didn’t know what to say. “That…that is terribly sad.”

The line of his jaw tightened. “It’s the reality of the situation, and I cannot blame him for it, but I don’t believe that Malik is lost. I refuse to believe it,” he stated adamantly, and I hoped for his sake that he was right. “Many Atlantians want retribution. Not just for what the Ascended have done to their Prince, but for the countless lives they have taken, and the land and future they stole from us. My father is quickly becoming one of those who wants retribution. And the thing is, Poppy, we can take our revenge. Atlantia rose from blood and ash. We are no longer a fallen kingdom. Not by any sense of the word. We haven’t been for a very long time. We are a kingdom of fire.”

The tiny hairs all over my body rose.

“We may have retreated after the war, but we did so for the sake of our people and the lives of the mortals caught between us, but that did not mean we suffered. That we have become less than the kingdom we once were. In the time since the war, we’ve rebuilt our numbers, and we’ve stretched far and wide from Atlantia, entrenching ourselves in every city within Solis, opening the eyes of those who are ready to see the truth.”     PrevNextTip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between pages.

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