“I have no intention of dealing with him.”
A small smile appeared as he held open the door. I walked into the room, warmed by the heat of the fireplace. “But he has every intention of dealing with you.”
Keeping the meat knife hidden under my tunic, I faced Kieran. “You mean he has every intention of using me.”
His head cocked to the side. “That’s not what I said, Penellaphe.”
“Why not? Do you think he really has given up on his brother? I don’t. He even said that I’m the Queen’s favorite,” I spat, the last two words acidic on my tongue. “This marriage thing has to be a part of the plan to get his brother back. Though why he didn’t just fess up to that at the table, I have no idea.”
“I don’t think either of you knows the truth.”
My spine stiffened. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Kieran eyed me. He was quiet for so long, the unease within me tripled. “He told you the truth about the Ascended, didn’t he?”
I wasn’t sure what any of this had to do with what he’d said, but I answered. “The Ascended are…vamprys, and everything I’ve been taught—that everyone in Solis believes—is a lie. The gods never Blessed King Jalara and Queen Ileana. The gods aren’t even—”
“No, the gods are real. They are our gods, and they now rest,” he corrected. “You know the Ascended aren’t Blessed. They are as cursed as those bitten by a Craven are. Except they don’t decay. You know this, but do you understand?”
His words were like a punch to the chest. “My brother—” I cut myself off. I didn’t need to talk about Ian. “I understand.”
“And do you believe what Cas told you about the Ascended?”
I looked at the fire, not answering. On one hand, I’d seen the evidence of what Casteel claimed—saw it branded on his skin. The Ascended had held Casteel captive before they took his brother. He’d been tortured, forced to do and take part in things I knew were utterly horrific based on the few small details he’d shared with me. What I felt when I thought about that was too heavy and noxious to be called disgust. And the ache in my heart was only the beginning, knowing that Casteel’s brother had been captured while freeing him.
I could be furious with Casteel.
I could even hate him.
But that didn’t mean I didn’t want to scream for all the agony Casteel had experienced and for what his brother was surely suffering at this very moment.
Did that mean that all Ascended were evil? Every last one of them, including my brother? I believed in what I saw proof of. But Casteel… I couldn’t trust more than half of what left his mouth, and it wasn’t like all Atlantians were utterly innocent.
“If you do believe him, then what are you fighting to go back to?” Kieran asked, and my gaze flew to his. “Isn’t that what you’re doing by refusing Cas?”
“Refusing to marry him has nothing to do with the Ascended, and everything to do with him,” I argued. “He lied to me about everything.”
“He didn’t lie about everything.”
“How do you know?” I challenged. “You know what? Don’t even answer that. It doesn’t matter. What does is that he plans to ransom me to the very people who did these horrible things to him and countless others. He plans to hand me over to the people who will most likely use me as a blood bag until I die. And even if, by some small chance, those plans have changed, they only did so because he realized I was part Atlantian. How is that any better? Why would I marry him?”
“Why would he marry someone he plans to ransom off?” he queried.
“Exactly!” Exasperated, I mashed my lips together as my focus shifted to the dark night beyond Kieran. “I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation.”
He fell quiet again. “You push him like you have no fear, even after all you’ve seen?”
“Should I fear him?” I asked. An incredibly stupid part of me almost didn’t want to know the answer. I’d trusted Hawke with my secrets, my desires, my body, my heart, my…life. I’d trusted him with everything, and nothing about him had been real. Not even the name Hawke.
I’d stumbled and tripped for him, and I was afraid that I would keep falling despite his betrayal. That was what I was afraid of.
“He has done things some might find unforgivable. Things that would haunt your sleep and leave you with nightmares long after you wake. He may hate being called the Dark One, but he has earned that name.” Kieran’s pale eyes met mine as a shiver curled its way down my spine. “But he’s the one thing in all the kingdoms that you, and only you, never have to fear.”
Chapter 3
If Kieran’s words were meant to reassure me, they’d done the exact opposite.
Pacing in front of the narrow window that was too small to escape from, I stared at the door. It had been locked from the outside.
Just like a cell.
My hands curled into fists as I made another pass in front of the window, anger mingling with the ever-present unease. It wasn’t what Kieran had said about Casteel earning the title of the Dark One. After how coldly and efficiently Casteel had killed Phillips, the guard who’d traveled with us from Masadonia, I already knew how he ended up with the nickname. Seeing him take out Landell was only further proof that he could—and would—kill without hesitation, but…
I stopped suddenly. I could also kill without too much reluctance. Hadn’t I proven that with Lord Mazeen? When Jericho and the others came after me, I’d been prepared to kill. My gaze dropped to my hands. They too, were covered in blood, and I couldn’t say it was just from self-defense and the necessity to survive. Lord Mazeen deserved the ending he got. The Ascended had taken the same perverse joy the Duke had when it came time for my lessons, but he hadn’t attacked me when I turned on him. He’d insulted Vikter within moments of my guard and friend taking his last breath, and I didn’t feel even a smidgen of guilt for how I handled it. Even if he hadn’t been a vampry, he was still a monster. Maybe that was why I wasn’t shocked by what Casteel had done in the hall.
And that quite possibly meant there was something wrong with me. Either way, it was what Kieran had said before he closed the door that made me angry.
That Casteel was the only person I never had to fear.
Kieran couldn’t be more wrong.
I looked to the bed then, and my stomach dipped as if I were standing on the edge of a Rise. I could almost see us, our limbs entwined, and our bodies joined. An aching pulse rolled through me as I touched the bite mark on my neck. I shivered, then searched for a hint of disgust or even fear. I found none.
He’d bitten me.
And his bite had hurt, but only at first, and only for a few seconds. Then, it had felt…it had felt like being drowned in liquid heat. I had never felt something so intense in my life—hadn’t even known something like that was possible. But it wasn’t the effects of the bite that had led to what we’d done in the woods while the snow fell around and upon us. Our bodies had come together because of my attraction to him. Because how I felt for him had been greater than the truth of what and who he was. That was what drove this need to understand how he’d gotten to this point in his life and why he was doing what he was now. It was what fueled this desire to forget everything except for the bliss I’d felt while I was in his arms—his lips against my skin, and the peace and companionship I experienced when we were simply speaking to one another.