Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
“I can always read to you,” Casteel offered. “I still have a certain diary with me. There is a chapter I’m sure you’ll be interested in. Miss Willa has the same sleeping arrangement—”
“No. Nope.” I screwed my eyes closed. “Not necessary.”
“Are you sure?” Casteel seemed to have wiggled closer. His entire leg pressed against mine.
“Yes.”
He laughed softly, but I didn’t dare say a word. I wouldn’t put it past him to retrieve that damn diary and somehow be able to read those words with his extra-special Atlantian eyes. So, I lay there. I didn’t know how much time passed before I fell asleep, but I knew I must’ve, because I suddenly became aware of how incredibly warm I felt. Every part of me had somehow escaped the cold of the mountain. Every part of me…
Slowly, I realized exactly why I was so toasty. I’d turned to Casteel in my sleep. He was on his back, and I’d all but climbed halfway on top of him. My head lay in the crook of his shoulder and chest. One of my legs was tossed over his, and the entire front of my body was fused to his side. One of his hands was curled around my shoulder.
But that wasn’t the only explanation for why I was so warm. Heat pressed against my back. A heavy arm lay over my waist and a leg was tucked between mine.
If I had turned to Casteel in my sleep, Kieran had also turned, as if Casteel were a magnet that drew both of us.
My heart thudded as I lay there, unsure what to do. Should I wake them? Shrug Kieran off? I had a feeling that would wake them, and the last thing I wanted was for Kieran to discover the…the three of us cuddled together.
Both of them were incredibly warm, and there wasn’t anything sinful about this. Well, the way I was half sprawled across Casteel didn’t feel exactly innocent, but Kieran had most likely done what anyone would. He’d sought warmth in his sleep, and I couldn’t exactly fault him for that.
What also didn’t feel entirely innocent was where my hand rested. It was shamefully low on Casteel’s stomach. I knew this because I could feel the imprint of the buttons against my palm. If I moved my fingers more than an inch lower, I doubted he would remain asleep. The knowledge of that filled my head with all kinds of things I really shouldn’t be thinking about at the moment, like what we’d done in the carriage…in the bedchamber, the cavern.
I mentally throat punched myself as I moved my hand away from that really fascinating part of Casteel, trying not to focus on the tautness of his lower stomach or the way his skin seemed to burn through his clothing—
Casteel’s arm curled, tightening around my shoulder, drawing me closer. My breath snagged as his movement triggered Kieran. He shifted behind me, and my pulse felt like a trapped bird. A sleek, muscled thigh slid between mine, pressing in. I had no idea if it was Casteel’s or Kieran’s.
A hundred different thoughts and emotions exploded through me, so many, so fast, I couldn’t make sense of them.
But neither of them woke, so I lay there, and my mind wandered again, not to places that would make this sleeping arrangement even more awkward or to sad ones.
I pretended.
Not like before with Casteel. I pretended that my brother was still a mortal, as was Tawny. That Casteel’s brother was free, and that the Ascended weren’t a reality. I pretended that tomorrow I would be arriving in a kingdom that welcomed me, to a King and Queen who would greet me with open arms. I pretended that Casteel and I were at the start of a life together, one that would be long and happy instead of one that felt like it could end at any minute. I pretended that we both aged, and that I was always reckless enough, brave enough to just let myself feel, to experience, to live without the past shadowing every choice I made, or the future looming over every decision.
That we always existed in the now and…lived.
Eventually, the warmth that both of them radiated, the steady, deep rise and fall of their chests, lulled me back to sleep. Sometime later, I drifted on the fringes of sleep once more, brought there by a whisper. A calling. A name.
“Poppy…”
Chapter 43
My entire being seized in recognition of that voice—one I couldn’t pull from the depths of my imagination no matter how hard I tried.
But it was him—that was my father’s voice calling my name.
My eyes opened to misty darkness and…and golden lamplight, and I realized I wasn’t awake.
I was there once more, thrust back into the night that ended in blood-soaked screams.
“Poppy-flower, I know you’re down there. Come out,” he called. “I need you to come to me, Poppy-flower.”