Chapter 22: The Crown of Gilded Bones: Chapter 22

“Why not?” I pitched forward again.

“Because you usurp the throne, Poppy. No other Queen could rule with you in Atlantia. The wolven will treat you as the Queen even if you do not sit on that throne. Some Atlantians will treat you the same. Others would follow who wears the crown, whether that is my mother or someone else. It would create a division, one we haven’t seen since the deities themselves ruled. I can’t do that to Atlantia,” he said.

“I don’t want that to happen.” My heart started thumping heavily as I gripped the edge of the table. “But this is your home.”

“You told me that I was your home. That works both ways,” he reminded me. “You are mine. What matters is that we’re together and happy.”

His words warmed me, but he would be leaving because I chose not to take the Crown. I pressed against the back of the chair, suddenly understanding what he was saying. “If I wasn’t a descendant of a god, and Malik wasn’t ready to rule, what would you have done if I said I didn’t want to rule?”

“Then we wouldn’t,” he answered. There had been no hesitation.

“But then what happens to the Crown? Do your parents continue to rule?”

“They would until the Crown was challenged.”

“And what happens if the Crown is challenged?”

“Several things, Poppy. None that you need to worry about—”

“Actually, I think I do.” I sensed his concern then, heavy and thick. “You’re holding back because you don’t want me to worry.”

“You shouldn’t read my emotions,” he countered. “It’s rude.”

“Casteel,” I growled. “We are talking about the potential of you and me becoming King and Queen, and I cannot be Queen when my husband hides things from me because he’s afraid I’ll be overwhelmed.

“I wouldn’t say I was hiding things—” He closed his mouth when he saw the look on my face.

“You know what that says to me? That you don’t think I can handle being Queen,” I told him.

“That’s not at all what I’m saying.” He leaned forward, placing his hands on the table. “It’s not my intention to keep you in the dark. Some of what I didn’t share was because I didn’t have all the information, and I—” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m not used to sharing these kinds of things with anyone but Kieran. And I know that’s not an excuse. I’m not saying that it is. To be honest, you’ve handled everything thrown your way better than most people would. It’s not that I truly fear you’ll freak out. It’s just that I don’t want you to be overwhelmed. But you’re right. If taking the Crown is something you choose, I can’t hold things back.

Sensing his contrition, I nodded.

He shifted back in his seat. “If we didn’t take the throne, my parents could concede, but they would only do that if they felt the one who’d issued the challenge was fit to rule—and they could only do that if one challenged the throne at a time. If there’s more than one, then the Elders weigh in. There could be trials where the challengers would have to prove themselves.”

“Like the heartmate trials?” I asked.

“I imagine. I don’t know for sure. It has never…gotten to that point before.”

Another wave of disbelief swept through me. “And you’d be willing to walk away? To possibly let what has never happened before occur?”

“Yes,” he said, again without even a moment of hesitation. “I do not want to be party to forcing you into yet another role you did not ask for nor desire. I will not replace the veil you loathed with a crown you hate. If you do not want to take the Crown, I will support you,” he swore, and the intensity in his words captured me. The irrevocable oath he was making. “And if you decide you want to take what is yours, claim the throne, I will set this entire kingdom on fire and watch it burn if that ensures that the crown sits on your head.”

I jolted. “You love your people—”

“But I love you more.” Flecks of gold burned brightly in his eyes, churning restlessly. “Do not underestimate what I would or would not do to ensure your happiness. I think you know this by now. There is nothing that I wouldn’t do, Poppy. Nothing.”

I did. Gods, he’d already done the unthinkable by Ascending me, but he’d been prepared for me to become a vampry. He would’ve fought anyone and everyone who came near him to keep me alive, even if I became a monster. I didn’t doubt him now.

“This is about you, about what you’re comfortable with and what you want,” he continued. “No one is going to force this choice on you. It will be your call, and then we will deal with whatever may or may not happen. Together.”

A soft tremble worked its way through me. I didn’t doubt what he said. I didn’t underestimate him. I was at a loss for what to say as I stared at him in silence, utterly overwhelmed. That kind of devotion? His promise? It was…it was life-altering.

And maybe the truth was that I wasn’t worthy of him.

I rose and walked around the table to where he sat without really understanding what I was doing. He tilted his head back, watching me silently. I didn’t let myself think about what I was doing or if it was normal or acceptable. I just did what I wanted, what felt right to me. My senses were open to him, and I felt a rush of warmth and sweetness as I sat in his lap. His arms immediately wound around me, and he held me tightly as I wiggled as close to him as I could get, tucking my head under his chin.

I closed my eyes. “I hope this chair doesn’t collapse on us.”

Casteel chuckled as he dragged a hand over my hair. “I’ll break your fall if it does.”

“Stop being sweet.”

“I was just pointing out that I would, indeed, break your fall if the chair broke as it would be me who hit the floor first,” he said, brushing my hair back from the side of my face. “And you’re the one being sweet right now.” His arms tightened around me and then relaxed only slightly. “I like it.”

“I like you,” I murmured, pressing my fingers into his chest. “You know what it means to me, having that choice. That freedom.” Emotion swelled in my chest and burned its way up my throat. “It means everything to me.”

He slid his hand around to my cheek, tilting my head back. Dipping his head, he kissed me softly. “I know.”

“You are worthy of me, Cas. I need you to know that.”

“With you in my arms, I feel worthy,” he said, pressing his lips against mine once more. “I do.”

“I want you to feel worthy of me when I’m not in your arms.” I placed my fingers against his cheeks. “Why would you think you’re not? After all you’ve done for me?”

He was quiet, and I could feel the sourness of shame as thick lashes lifted. “What about all I’ve done to you? I know you’ve accepted these things, but that doesn’t change that I lied to you. That because of those lies, you were hurt. Because of what I did, people died—people you loved.”

My heart ached. “Neither of us can change the past, Cas, but because you lied, I saw the truth of the Ascended. People were hurt—Loren, Dafina.” I drew in a shaky breath. “Vikter. But how many lives have you saved? Countless, I’m sure. You saved mine in more ways than we probably even know.”

A small smile appeared and then faded, and I sensed it was about more than just what had happened to me. His shame and guilt ran so much deeper than that.

“Talk to me,” I whispered.

“I am.”

“I mean, really talk to me.” I smoothed my fingers along his cheeks. “What makes you think you’re unworthy of me?”

His throat worked on a swallow. “Are you reading my emotions?”

“No.” I sighed when he arched a brow. “Kind of.”

He chuckled, the sound hoarse. “I don’t know, Princess. There are things that…come into my head sometimes. Things that lived in my head when I was caged by the Ascended. I don’t know how to put them into words, but even if I did, neither of us need to deal with that right now.”

“I disagree,” I said empathetically. “We do.”

One side of his lips tipped up. “We have a lot on our plates. You have a lot on yours. I’m not going to add to that. I don’t need to,” he added when I opened my mouth. “I’m okay, Poppy. Trust me when I say that.”

“Cas—”

He kissed me, capturing my lips in a deep, drugging sort of kiss. “I’m okay, Princess. I swear.”

Sensing I would get nowhere with him right now, I nodded, then curled my hands around his wrists as he tucked my head back under his chin. This wouldn’t be the last time we talked about this, I would make sure of that. We sat there in silence for several minutes as I thought about everything from the time he was held prisoner to the decisions I had to make. My natural inclination was to turn down any claim to the Crown immediately. It was the only sensible reaction. I had no idea how to be a Queen of anything, not even a pile of ashes. And while Casteel might not have been raised from birth to take the throne, he had been raised a Prince. I’d seen him with his people and already knew he would make a wonderful King. But me? I was raised as the Maiden, and very little of that upbringing would be of any use. I had no desire to govern people, determine what they could and couldn’t do, and assume that kind of responsibility. Where was the freedom in that? The freedom to live my life as I saw fit? I had no hunger for power, no great ambition…

But I said nothing as I sat there, enjoying the simple feel of Casteel’s hand stroking my hair. I would’ve enjoyed his touch even more if I hadn’t realized there was an entirely different way to look at this. I had no idea how to rule, but I could learn. I would have Casteel at my side, and who would be a better teacher? Governing people did not necessarily equate to controlling them. It could mean protecting them, just as I knew Casteel would—like I knew his parents had done to the best of their ability. How they may or may not feel about me didn’t change the fact that they cared for their people. That they were nothing like the Royals of Solis. That kind of responsibility was frightening, but it could also be an honor. I had no thirst for power, but maybe that was the key to being a good leader? I wasn’t sure. But I knew I had great ambitions. I wanted to free the people of Solis from the tyranny of the Ascended, and what could be more ambitious than that? But how could I achieve that when I refused to bear the burden of a Crown? Who knew what kind of influence Casteel and I would be able to wield regarding Solis if we were forced to abandon Atlantia, leaving it to be ruled by someone who could have very different intentions when it came to Solis and the Ascended? Someone who may never see Ian as anything but a vampry. And maybe that was all that Ian was now. Possibly even Tawny. I didn’t know, but what if my brother was different? What if other Ascended could change like Casteel had said a few had? What would happen if someone took the throne and declared war against them? I didn’t know, but freedom was the choice. It was in the way I chose to live my life. And what kind of freedom would there be if I was the reason Casteel had to leave his people? His family?

That kind of knowledge carried with it a different type of cage, didn’t it? Just like fear was another prison, and I was…

“I’m afraid,” I admitted quietly as I stared at the sun-drenched ivy beyond the open terrace door. “I’m afraid of saying yes.”

Casteel’s hand stilled on my back. “Why?”

“I don’t know how to be a Queen. I know I can learn, but do the people of Atlantia have the patience for that? The luxury of waiting for me to gain the same kind of experience as you? And we don’t even know what I am. Has Atlantia ever had a Queen that was possibly neither mortal nor Atlantian nor deity? You don’t have to answer that. I already know it’s a no. And what if I’m a terrible Queen?” I asked. “What if I fail at that?”

“First and foremost, you won’t be a terrible Queen, Poppy.”

“You have to say that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Because you’re my husband, and because you’re afraid I’ll stab you if you say otherwise.”

“Fear is not remotely what I feel when I think you might stab me.”

My nose scrunched as I shook my head. “That is twisted.”

“Perhaps,” he noted. “But back to what you said. How do I know you wouldn’t make a terrible Queen? It’s the choices you’ve made time and time again. Like when you sought to help those who were cursed by the Craven, risking the gods know what kind of punishment to ease their passing. That is just one example of your compassion, and that is something any ruler needs. When you went up on the Rise during the Craven attack? When you fought at Spessa’s End, willing to take the same risks as those who’d taken an oath to protect the people? Those are only two examples that prove you have the courage and the willingness to do what you would ask of your people. That is something a King and a Queen should be willing to do. You have more experience than you realize. You proved that in the hunting cabin when you spoke of power and influence. You paid attention when you wore the veil. More than any of the Royals ever noticed.”

He was right about that. I had watched and listened without being seen. From that, I had learned what not to do when in a leadership position, starting with the simplest of things.

Do not lie to your people.

Or kill them.

But the bar wasn’t set very high in Solis. Atlantia was entirely different.

“And the fact that you are willing to give people who might’ve been involved in a plot to harm you a second chance proves you are far more suited to rule than I am.”

I frowned, lifting my head. Our gazes met. “You would make a wonderful King, Cas. I’ve seen you with people. It’s evident that they love you as much as you love them.”

His eyes warmed. “But I am not nearly as generous, compassionate, or as forgiving as you—all qualities that can bring down a Crown if they’re absent,” he told me, pausing to brush a wisp of hair back from my face. “If we were to do this, I would need to learn some things—areas I would need your help with. But the fact that you are afraid of failing speaks volumes, Poppy. It should scare you. Hell, it terrifies me.”

“It does?”

He nodded. “Do you think I don’t fear failing the people? Making the wrong choices? Setting the entire kingdom on the wrong path? Because I do, and I know my parents still do, to this very day. My father would probably tell you that you would most likely do just that if you stopped being afraid of failing. He would also say that kind of fear keeps you brave and honest.”

But couldn’t that kind of fear make you indecisive, too? Stop you before you even traveled down a road? The fear of failing was powerful, just as fear of the unknown and uncharted destinies was. And I’d felt that kind of terror a hundred or so times in my life. When I went to the Red Pearl. When I smiled at the Duke, knowing what would come from doing so. When I joined Casteel under the willow. I’d been scared then. I’d been terrified when I finally admitted to myself what I felt for Casteel, but I hadn’t let fear stop me then. This was different, though. So much more important than forbidden kisses.

This was more important than us.

“What about your brother? Ian? How would that be affected?”

“The only thing that would change is that we would negotiate as the Queen and King instead of the Princess and Prince,” he answered.

“I doubt that would be the only thing that changed,” I said wryly. “We would come to the table with far more power and authority, I imagine.”

“Well, yeah, that too.” Casteel’s arms tightened around me. “You don’t have to decide today, Poppy,” he said, much to my relief. “You have time.”

Some of the knots loosened in my stomach. “But not a lot.”

“No,” he confirmed as his gaze swept over my face. “I would’ve liked for you to see a little of Atlantia before you made up your mind. What happened last night—”

“Shouldn’t have anything to do with me seeing Atlantia.” I sat up, meeting his gaze. “It shouldn’t interfere with us carrying through with our plans, or with us at all. I absolutely refuse to allow this group of people to put me in a different sort of cage. I’m not going to stop living when I just started to do so.”

Casteel’s eyes were as warm as the summer sun as he lifted a hand to my cheek. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“I’m not sure what I said that is so amazing.”

His lips curved up. The dimple appeared. “Your determination and will to live, to enjoy life no matter what is happening or how confusing things are, is one of the many things I find amazing about you. Most wouldn’t be able to handle everything you have.”

“There are moments when I’m not sure I can,” I admitted.

“But you do.” He slid his thumb over my lower lip. “And you will. No matter what.”

His faith in me touched a small, insecure spot deep inside me that I wasn’t sure I knew existed until that moment. A part of me that worried I asked too many questions, understood too little of this world, and that I was only stumbling from one shock to the next. But he was right. I was still standing. I was still dealing. I was strong.

I started to lean in to kiss him, but a knock on the door stopped me.

Casteel let out a low growl. “I don’t normally like to be interrupted, but especially when you’re about to kiss me.”

Dipping my head, I kissed him quickly before hopping out of his lap. He rose, shooting me a sultry look that scalded my skin as he went to the door. Hoping I didn’t look as flushed as I felt, I turned to see Delano standing there. The smile tugging at my lips froze the moment I connected with his emotions.

All I could taste was bitter, heavy cream. Sorrow and concern. I started toward the door. “What happened?” I asked as Casteel looked over his shoulder at me.

“A man is here to see you,” Delano answered, and Casteel’s head snapped back to the fair-haired wolven.

“For what reason?” Casteel demanded as I joined them.

“Their child has been injured in a carriage accident,” he told us. “She’s extremely—”

“Where is she?” My stomach dropped as I stepped forward.

“In the city. It’s her father who’s here,” Delano began, his gaze darting between Casteel and me. “But the girl—”

At once, the talk of the Crown, the Unseen, and everything else fell to the wayside. There was no thinking about what I could do to help. I brushed past him, my heart thumping. I’d seen the results of carriage accidents in both Masadonia and Carsodonia. They almost always ended tragically for tiny bodies, and I’d never been allowed to step in and ease their pain or fright.

“Dammit, Poppy.” A door slammed behind Casteel as he entered the hall.

“Don’t try to stop me,” I tossed over my shoulder.

“I wasn’t planning to.” He and Delano easily caught up with me. “I just don’t think you should go rushing out there when the Unseen just tried to kill you last night.”

I looked over at Delano as I kept walking. “Did the parents or the child have a face?”

His brows knitted at what definitely sounded like a weird question. “Yes.”

“Then they’re obviously not Gyrms.”

“That doesn’t mean they aren’t part of the Unseen, or change the fact that you should proceed with at least a measure of caution,” Casteel countered. “Which, I know, you are not on friendly terms with.”

I sent him a dark look.

He ignored it as we rounded a bend in the hall. “Is it just the father?”

“Yes,” Delano answered. “He appears very desperate.”

“Gods,” Casteel muttered. “I shouldn’t be surprised that they learned of her abilities. There have been arrivals from Spessa’s End over the last couple of days.”

None of that mattered. “Has anyone sent for a Healer?”

“Yes.” Delano’s sadness thickened, and my heart skipped. “The Healer is actually with the child and mother now. The father said the Healer told them there’s nothing to be done—”

Grasping the skirt of my gown, I took off running. Casteel cursed, but he didn’t stop me as I ran down the never-ending hall, vaguely aware that I didn’t think I had ever run this fast before. I rushed out into the warm, sunny air and started for the doors at the end of the breezeway.

Casteel caught my elbow. “This way will be quicker,” he told me, guiding me out from between the pillars and onto a walkway crowded by bushy shrubs covered in tiny starbursts of yellow.

The moment we entered the courtyard, and before I could even see anyone beyond the walls, the raw and nearly out-of-control panic radiating from the man standing near a horse slammed into me.

“Harlan,” Casteel called. “Bring me Setti.”

“Already on it,” the young man responded, leading the horse out as the man turned to us.

I sucked in a sharp breath. The entire front of his shirt and breeches were stained red. That much blood…

“Please.” The man started toward us and then jerked to a stop. At first, I thought it was the sudden presence of several wolven that seemed to appear out of nowhere, but the man started to bow.

“There is no need for that.” Casteel stopped him, his grip slipping to my hand as I let go of my gown. “Your child is injured?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The man’s eyes—Atlantian eyes—bounced between us as Kieran stepped out of the front doors of the home, his hand on the hilt of his sword. With one look, he picked up his pace, entering the stables. “My little girl. Marji. She was right beside us,” he told us, his voice cracking. “We told her to wait, but she…she just took off, and we didn’t see the carriage. We didn’t see her do it until it was too late. The Healer says that nothing can be done, but she still breathes, and we heard—” Wild, dilated eyes flicked to me as Harlan brought Setti forward. “We heard about what you did in Spessa’s End. If you could help my little girl… Please? I beg of you.”

“There’s no need to beg,” I told him, heart twisting as his grief tore through me. “I can try to help her.”

“Thank you,” the man’s words came out with a rush of air. “Thank you.”

“Where is she?” Casteel asked as he took Setti’s reins.

As the man answered, I gripped the saddle and hoisted myself up without getting my legs tangled in the gown. No one reacted to how I was able to seat myself on Setti as Casteel swung up behind me, and Kieran joined us, already astride his horse. No one spoke as we left the courtyard, following the man onto the tree-lined road. We rode down the hill fast, accompanied by the wolven and Delano, who had shifted and was now a blur of white loping over rocks and darting between trees and then structures and horses.

We had just talked about seeing the city, but this wasn’t how I imagined it happening. The ride was a blur of blue skies and a sea of faces, narrow, tight roads, and gardens nestled between sweeping buildings adorned with heavily flowered vines. I couldn’t focus on any of it as the urge to help the child took center stage. And that desire…it was different. It was hard to comprehend because the need to help others with my gift had always been there, but this was more intense. As if it was an instinct that equaled breathing. And I didn’t know if that had anything to do with everything that had happened or if it was borne of the need to learn if my gifts could still ease pain and heal instead of what I’d done at the Chambers.

My heart pounded as we entered a street crowded with people. They stood in front of homes and on cobblestone sidewalks, their unease and grief sinking into my skin as my gaze settled on a plain white carriage left unattended in the road.

The father drew his horse to a halt in front of a narrow, two-story home with windows that faced the glittering bay. As Casteel brought Setti to a stop, a wild mix of emotions rose from within the wrought-iron-enclosed courtyard and slammed into me, knocking the breath from my lungs. I twisted to find Kieran at our side. He reached up, grasping my arms.

“Do you have her?” Casteel demanded of Kieran.

“Always,” he replied.

Casteel’s grip on me slipped away, and Kieran helped me down. The moment my feet were on the ground, Casteel was beside me. I glanced at the carriage, seeing strands of hair tangled in the wheel—I quickly looked away before I saw anything else.

“Through here,” the father said, his long legs carrying him over the sidewalk and through the gate.

A man dressed in gray stood at the entrance to the garden. He turned to us. A satchel hung from his shoulder, and several pouches were clipped to the belt around his waist. I knew at once that he was the Healer.

“Your Highness, I must apologize for this disruption,” the man said, the sun glinting off the smoothness of his bald head. His eyes were a vivid gold. The Healer was Atlantian. “I told the parents the child was beyond our care and that she would soon enter the Vale. That there was nothing to do. But they insisted that you come h-here.” He stuttered over the last word as he looked at me. His throat worked on a swallow. “They had heard that she—”

“I know what they heard about my wife,” Casteel stated as Delano prowled ahead. “This is no disruption.”

“But the child, Your Highness. Her injuries are significant, and her vitals are not conducive to life. Even if your wife can ease pain and heal bones with her touch,” the Healer said, his rejection of such an ability clear. “The child’s injuries are far beyond that.”

“We shall see,” Casteel answered.

I inhaled sharply as we walked through the gate. There were so many people huddled together in the small garden. My throat dried as I struggled to make sense of what I felt from them. I…I tasted bitter panic and fear. It soaked the air, but what raised the hairs on my arms was the intense, scalding pain coming through my senses, painting the blue sky a maroon, and darkening the ground, tainting the flowers so lovingly cared for. It fell in endless waves of acute agony, like dull razor blades scraping against my skin.

A pale-skinned man turned as he dragged his hands over his head, tugging at wheat-colored strands. Shock and the bitterness of horror punched through the choking pain. His panic was so potent that it was a tangible entity as he stared at Casteel.

“I didn’t see her, Your Highness,” the man cried, looking over his shoulder. “I didn’t even see her. Gods, I’m sorry.” He staggered around and then toward the group. “I’m so sorry.”

Casteel spoke softly to the man as Delano moved ahead, shouldering through the crowd. I heard the sound of gulping cries, the kind of sobs that stole the breath, and most of the sound.

“I brought help,” I heard the father say. “Do you hear me, Marji? I brought someone who is going to try to help you…”

My stomach lurched as I saw the limp body—a too-small form clutched to the chest of a woman on her knees, who shared the same auburn hair. The father crouched at the child’s head. It was the woman making those ragged, broken sounds. Her emotions were frenzied, shifting from terror to sorrow to murky disbelief.

“Come on, baby girl, open your eyes for your papa.” Her father shifted closer, carefully brushing her hair back—

The child’s hair wasn’t auburn.

That was blood streaking the light brown strands—hair that matched the father’s. My gaze swept over the child as Delano circled the huddled group. One leg wasn’t lying right, twisted at an unnatural angle. “Open your eyes for me,” her father pleaded. A murmur of surprise rose from those who stood in the garden as they realized that the Prince was among them. “Open your eyes for your momma and me, baby girl. There’s someone here to help.”

The mother’s gaze darted around those standing there. I didn’t think she saw a single face when she uttered, “She won’t open her eyes.”

The child’s lashes were dark against cheeks absent of color. I could barely feel her pain anymore, and I knew that was a bad sign. For that kind of pain to ease so quickly and totally, things were grave. Atlantians, even those of the elemental line, were basically mortal until they entered the Culling. Any number of injuries that could fatally harm a mortal could do the same to them.

The mother’s gaze landed on me. “Can you help her?” she whispered, shuddering. “Can you? Please?”

Heart thumping and skin vibrating, I neared them. “I will.”

At least I thought I could. I had healed Beckett’s broken bones. I had no idea if that would happen now, but I knew I could pump as much warmth and happiness into her as I could. I feared that was all I could do. I worried the Healer had been right, and this child had moved beyond anyone’s ability. I just prayed that my touch didn’t manifest in the same way as it had in the Temple.

Casteel walked ahead, crouching beside the parents. He placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder as I lowered myself while Kieran had gone still, all except for the rise and fall of his chest. His nostrils flared as Delano whimpered, sinking onto his haunches at the child’s feet.

Casteel’s gaze met mine, and I saw it there—the welling grief. “Poppy…”

“I can try,” I insisted, kneeling across from the mother. The stone was hard under my knees as I tried not to notice how the child’s head hung so limply, how it didn’t seem shaped right. I started to reach for the girl, but the mother’s arms tensed around her. “You can still hold her,” I said gently. “You don’t have to let her go.”

The woman stared at me in a way that made me unsure if she understood me, but then she nodded.

“I just need to touch her,” I told her, feeling their shock, their uncertainty, and even the anger I thought had come from the Healer. I shut them out as I focused on the child—the too-pale child. “That’s all. I won’t hurt her. I promise.”

The mother didn’t say anything, but she didn’t move as I lifted my hands again. Inhaling deeply, I kept my attention on the child as I opened my senses wide. I felt…I felt nothing from the girl. Unease trickled through me. She could be deeply unconscious, slipping where pain couldn’t follow, but what I saw on the carriage wheel and the way her head appeared caved-in…

I had only ever healed wounds and bones, and only recently. Nothing like this.

I could still try.

Curving a hand around her arm, I swallowed hard at the stillness of her skin. That was the only way I could describe the feel of her flesh. I suppressed a shudder and let instinct guide me. Gently, I placed my other hand on her forehead. My palms warmed, and a tingling sensation spread down my arms and across my fingers. The child didn’t move. Her eyes remained closed. Becket had responded almost immediately when I touched him, but there was nothing from her. My throat thickened as I looked at her chest. Either her breathing was too shallow or she didn’t breathe—hadn’t been breathing. A slice of pain cut through my chest.

“Poppy,” Cas whispered. A moment later, I felt his hand on my shoulder.

I didn’t let myself feel what he was experiencing. “Just a few more seconds,” I said, my gaze returning to the child’s face, to the blue pallor of her lips.

“Oh, gods,” the father moaned, rocking backward. “Please. Help her.”

One of the wolven brushed against my back as desperation swelled.

“This is unnecessary,” the Healer stated. “That child has already gone into the Vale. You are doing nothing but giving them false hope, and I must say something—”

Casteel’s head lifted, but I was faster. My chin jerked over my shoulder as my gaze met the Healer’s. Static danced over my skin.

“I don’t give up so quickly,” I said, feeling the heat in my skin flare. “I will still try.”

Whatever the Healer saw in my face—in my eyes—he shrank back from, stumbling a step as he pressed a hand to his chest. I honestly didn’t care as I turned back to the child, exhaling roughly.

It couldn’t be too late for this child because that wouldn’t be fair, and I didn’t care how unfair life could be. The girl was far too young for this to be it for her—for her life to be over, all because she’d run out into the road.

Tamping down my rising panic, I ordered myself to focus. To think about the mechanics. When I healed Beckett, I hadn’t had to think about much. It just happened. Maybe this was different. She was injured far more seriously. I just needed to try harder.

I had to try harder.

My skin continued vibrating, and my chest hummed like a hundred birds taking flight inside me. Sharp inhales echoed around me as a faint silver glow emanated from my hands.

“Good gods,” someone rasped. The sound of boots sliding over pebbles and dirt sounded.

Closing my eyes, I searched for memories—good ones. It didn’t take me as long as it had before. Immediately, I recalled how I felt kneeling in the sandy dirt beside Casteel as he slipped the ring on my finger. My entire being had been wrapped in the taste of chocolate and berries, and I could feel that now. The corners of my lips turned up, and I held onto that feeling, taking that pulsing joy and happiness and picturing it as a bright light that funneled through my touch to the child, wrapping around her like a blanket. All the while, I repeated over and over that it wasn’t too late, that she would live. It’s not too late. She will live. It’s not too late. She will live—

The child jerked. Or the mother did. I didn’t know. My eyes flew open, and my heart stuttered. The silver light had spread, settling over the child in a fine, shimmery web that blanketed her entire body. I could only see patches of her skin underneath—her pink skin.

“Momma,” came the soft, weak voice from under the light, and then stronger, “Momma.”

Gasping, I drew my hands back. The silvery light twinkled like a thousand stars before fading away. The little girl, her skin pink, and her eyes open, was sitting up, reaching for her mother.

Stunned, I leaned back as my gaze swept to Casteel. He was staring at me, golden eyes filled with wonder. “I…” He swallowed thickly. “You…you are a goddess.”

“No.” I folded my hands against my legs. “I’m not.”

Sunlight glanced off his cheek as he tipped forward, bracing his weight on the hand he’d placed on the ground. He leaned in, brushing his nose across mine as he cupped my cheek. “To me, you are.” He kissed me softly, scattering what was left of my senses. “To them, you are.”