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)
“Why doesn’t that surprise me.” Kieran lowered his hand. “The Prince is coming.”
I opened my mouth, but the door opened a heartbeat later. Was Kieran’s hearing that good?
Casteel strode in, his hair swept back from his face, and it was like all the air had been sucked out, and the library suddenly became three sizes smaller. It was simply him, his mere presence immediately taking over the space.
He glanced between Kieran and me. “You two look like you’re having fun.”
Based on the way Kieran still looked as if he’d seen a spirit, I doubted it.
“I found a book of records from when the Atlantians lived here.” I picked up the book.
“Sounds real fun,” Casteel drawled.
“Perfect timing.” Kieran’s expression smoothed out. “Your fiancée has questions.”
The way he said the word fiancée made me want to throw the book at his head.
“Perhaps I have answers.” Casteel leaned against the desk. “And, yes, before you ask, you’re free to do as you please.”
“Thank the gods,” Kieran muttered, peeling himself away from the built-in bookshelves. He started toward the door. “Is all good with Alastir?”
Casteel nodded. “He and several of the men left to check the roads.”
“Good.” Kieran turned. “Have fun.”
I watched him close the door. “He’s acting weird.”
“Is that so?”
“He got a static shock from his arm brushing mine, and he behaved as if I’d done it on purpose.”
“You know how some electrical wiring can short out? Emit sparks or charges of energy?” When I nodded, he said, “Wolven can lose control over their forms if they come into contact with electricity, even at harmless levels. Sometimes, during a particularly bad lightning storm, they are often affected by it.”
“Oh. Well, then.” I paused. “He’s still weird.”
Casteel laughed, and the sound was deep and real and nice. “So, what did you have questions about?”
I looked up at him and wished I hadn’t. The words he spoke before leaving to speak with Alastir came back to me. Thank you for choosing me. I didn’t choose him, though. Not really.
Stomach fluttering nonetheless, I dragged my attention back to the book. “I found these words I didn’t understand. Kieran was just explaining that the wivern could shift into large cats, and he was about to tell me what a draken is.”
“Ah, this is an old book.” He leaned over, scanning the pages. The scent of woodsmoke mixed with his scent. “A draken was a powerful bloodline, one able to sprout wings as wide as a horse, and talons as sharp as a blade. They could fly. Some could even breathe fire.”
My chin snapped up, and I stared at him. “Like…like a dragon?”
Casteel nodded.
“I thought dragons were myths.” I remembered reading stories about them in the books I’d borrowed from the city’s library. Some even had drawings of the frightening beasts.
“Every myth is rooted in some fact,” he answered.
“If there were draken who could fly and breathe fire, how in the world could the Ascended even gain the upper hand against Atlantia?” I asked.
“Because the draken were basically gone before the first vampry was even made.” He picked up a strand of my hair and started to twist it around his finger. “If they had been there, nothing would remain of the Ascended but scorched earth.”
I shivered. “What do you mean by basically gone.”
“Well, my very curious Princess, legends state that many of the draken didn’t die. That they slumber with the gods or protect their resting places.”
“Are the legends true?”
He unraveled the strand of hair. “That, I cannot answer. I’ve never seen a draken, which is a shame. Would have loved to see one.”
“So would I,” I admitted, imagining that a draken would be a fierce but majestic sight.
Casteel was looking over the page as he spun my hair around his finger once more. “The ceeren were here? Huh. I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“Why?” I snatched away my hair, pulling it free from his hand.
He pouted. “Because there is no sea or large body of water nearby. Ceeren were also of two worlds, part mortal and—”
“Water folk?” I whispered, heart lurching.
“I imagine some may have called them such. They would grow fins—not like a lamaea—” He grinned, and a hint of the dimple appeared. “Their fins were in the right places, but their bloodline also faded out before the war.”
Was it a coincidence that Ian had written a story about two children befriending some water folk? I’d thought it nothing more than a figment of his imagination. But maybe he had discovered the ceeren.
“How did they die?”
“There’s a lot of debate surrounding that one. Some of the older Atlantians say it’s because they fell into a depression once Saion went to sleep, losing their will to live. Others believe that through generations of intermingling with other bloodlines, there simply were no pure ceeren left.”
“I hope it was the latter,” I said, even though that was a weird thing to hope for. “Them dying off because of a god going to sleep is far too sad.”