Chapter 23: The Crown of Gilded Bones: Chapter 23

To them?

I pulled back, my gaze locking with Casteel’s. He nodded, and I rose on shaky legs, looking over the now-silent garden. My gaze crept over slender, crystal wind chimes that hung from delicate branches, and yellow and white coneflowers as tall as me. My lips parted on a soft inhale. Nearly a dozen people had gathered inside the garden—not including the wolven. All of them had lowered to one knee, their heads bowed. I turned to where Kieran had stood.

My breath caught. He too kneeled. I stared at his bent head and then lifted my gaze to see that the Healer, who hadn’t believed I could help, who had been angry that I was giving the parents false hope, had bowed, as well, one hand flat to his chest and the other against the ground. Beyond him and the iron fence, those who had been in the streets no longer stood. They kneeled, too, their hands pressed to their breasts and their palms against the ground.

Curling a hand against my stomach, I turned back to Casteel. Our gazes met and held as he shifted onto one knee, placing his right hand over his heart and his left on the ground.

The gesture…I recognized it. It was a variation of what the wolven had done when I arrived in Saion’s Cove. But I’d seen it before, I realized. The Priests and Priestesses would do it when they first entered the Temples in Solis, acknowledging that they were in the presence of the gods.

You are a goddess.

My heart tripped over itself as I stared at Casteel. I wasn’t a…

I couldn’t even force my brain to finish that thought because I had no idea what I was. No one did. And as my gaze fell to where the little girl was still held tightly by her mother and now her father, as well, I…I couldn’t disregard that possibility, even as impossible as it seemed.

“Momma.” The girl’s voice drew my gaze. She had wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck as her father held them, kissing the top of his daughter’s head and then the mother’s. “I was dreaming.”

“You were?” The mother’s eyes were squeezed shut, but tears streaked her cheeks.

“There was a lady, Momma.” The little girl snuggled closer to her mother. “She had…” Her words were muffled, but what she said next was clear. “She said I-I always had the power in me…”

You always had the power in you…

Those words were oddly familiar. It felt like I had heard them before, but I couldn’t place them or remember who’d spoken them.

Casteel rose, and in a daze, I watched him walk toward me, his steps full of fluid grace. If someone said he was a god, I wouldn’t question it for a second.

He stopped in front of me, and my chaotic senses fixed on him. The breath I took was full of spice and smoke, warming my blood. “Poppy,” he said, his tone full of heat. His thumb slid over the scar on my cheek. “Your eyes are as bright as the moon.”

I blinked. “Are they still that way?”

His grin spread, and one dimple hinted at making an appearance. “Yes.”

I didn’t know what was said to the others, but I did know that he spoke to them with the calm confidence of someone who’d spent their entire life in a place of authority. All I was aware of was him steering me around people, past the man who’d been in such a panic but now just rested on his knees, staring up at me as his lips moved, forming words over and over. Thank you.

The wolven were once again beside us as we left the garden. The people on the cobblestone sidewalk and in the street were still there. They had risen and stood as if transfixed, and they all seemed to share the same bubbling, sparking emotion. Excitement and awe as they watched Casteel and I—watched me.

Instead of taking me to where Setti waited, Casteel looked at Kieran. He didn’t speak, and again, I was amazed at how they seemed to communicate or know each other so well that words weren’t necessary.

They weren’t now because a slow grin ticked across Kieran’s face as he said, “We’ll wait for you here.”

“Thank you,” Casteel replied, his hand firmly wrapped around mine, and then he said nothing as he turned me around and started walking.

I followed, my shock from what had just happened giving way to curiosity as he led me a few yards down the street, Casteel seemingly unaware of the wide-eyed stares, the murmurs, and the hasty bows. I wasn’t all that aware of it, either, unable to feel much past the thickening, spicy taste in my mouth, and the tension growing low in the pit of my stomach.

He led me under a sand-colored archway and into a narrow alley that smelled of apples and was lined with urns overflowing with leafy ferns. Gauzy curtains danced from the open windows above as he led me farther into the passageway. The soft melody of music drifted out from above us, the deeper in we went. He made a sharp right, and through another archway was a small courtyard. Wooden beams stretched across from building to building. Baskets of trailing flowers dangled, the array of colors creating a canopy that only allowed thin fragments of sunlight through. Vine-covered trellises created a privacy hedge around hundreds and hundreds of delicate white-petaled flowers.

“This garden is beautiful,” I said, starting toward one of the fragile white blossoms.

“I really don’t give a fuck about the garden.” Casteel stopped me, pulling me into a shadow-heavy alcove.

My eyes widened, but before I could respond, he turned, pressing me back against the stone wall. In the dim lights, his eyes were a luminous, churning honey color. “You know, don’t you?” Casteel folded his hand behind my head as he leaned into me. Against my stomach, I could feel the hard, thick length of him as he brushed his lips across my temple. “What you did back there?”

Soaking up his lush, piney scent and his warmth, I let my eyes drift shut as I clutched his sides, swords and all. “I healed her.”

He kissed my cheek, right along the scar, and then drew back. His eyes met mine, and I swore a fine tremor coursed through his body. “You know that’s not what you did,” he said. “You brought that girl back to life.”

The breath I took seized in my throat as I opened my eyes. “That’s not possible.”

“It shouldn’t be,” he agreed, sliding a hand over my bare arm and then across my chest. A curl low in my stomach made itself known as his palm grazed my breast. “Not for a mortal. Not for an Atlantian, or even a deity.” His hand slipped over my hip and then my thigh. I could feel the heat of his palm through the dress as he skimmed past the wolven dagger. “Only a god can do that—only one god.”

“Nyktos.” I bit down on my lip as his fingers gathered the material of the gown in a fist. “I’m not Nyktos.”

“No shit,” he said against my mouth.

“Your language is inappropriate,” I told him.

He laughed darkly. “You going to deny what you did?”

“No,” I whispered, my heart skipping. “I don’t understand how, and I don’t know if her soul had truly entered the Vale, but she…”

“She was gone.” He nipped at my lower lip, drawing a gasp from me. “And you brought her back because you tried. Because you refused to give up. You did that, Poppy. And because of you, those parents won’t be mourning their child tonight. They’ll be watching her fall asleep.”

“I…I just did what I could,” I told him. “That’s all—”

The sheer intensity of the way he claimed my lips cut off my words. That low curl in my stomach intensified as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss.

Balmy air curled its way around my legs as he drew the skirt of my gown up. Shock at his intentions warred with the elicit pulse of pleasure. “We’re in public.”

“Not really.” The tips of his fangs grazed the underside of my jaw, and every muscle in my body seemed to clench. Up and up it went until his fingers skimmed the curve of my ass. “This is a private garden.”

“There are people around—” A breathy moan escaped me as the skirt rose above the dagger. “Somewhere.”

“No one is even remotely close enough to us,” he said, slipping his hand out from behind my head. “The wolven made sure of that.”

“I don’t see them,” I said.

“They’re at the mouth of the alley,” he told me, catching my ear between his teeth. I shuddered. “They’re giving us privacy to speak.”

A short giggle left me. “I’m sure that’s what they think we’re doing.”

“Does it matter?” he questioned.

I thought about that as my pulse sped up. Did it? What had happened last night flashed before me, as did the memory of seeing Casteel prone on the Chambers’ floor. Believing he’d died. In a heartbeat, I remembered what it had been like when the blood had drained from my body, realizing there would be no more new experiences, no more moments of wild abandon. That little girl had gotten a second chance, and so had I.

I wouldn’t waste it.

“No,” I said as his gaze lifted to mine. Heart pounding, I reached between us. The backs of my trembling fingers brushed against him, and he jerked as I undid the flap of buttons. “It doesn’t.”

“Thank fuck,” he growled and then kissed me again, obliterating any reservations that stemmed from a lifetime of being sheltered. His tongue stroked mine as he slid an arm around my waist, lifting me. His strength never ceased to send a thrill through me. “Wrap your legs around me.”

I did, moaning at the feel of his hard flesh nestled against mine.

He reached between us, and I felt the tip of him pressing into me. “Just so you know”—he raised his head, his gaze locking with mine—“I’m completely in control.”

“Are you?”

“Totally,” he swore, thrusting into me.

My head pushed back against the wall as the feel of him, hot and thick, consumed me. His mouth closed over mine, and I loved the way he kissed me, like my very taste was enough for him to live on.

He moved against me and in me, the twin warmth of his body and the stone blocks at my back a delicious assault on my senses. The thrusts of our tongues matched the slow plunge of his hips. Things…things didn’t stay that way. Wedging his arm between my back and the wall, he rocked against me until my body became a fire he fanned with each stroke and each intoxicating kiss. He pressed in, grinding against the small bundle of nerves, only to pull back and then return with another deep thrust. When he started to retreat, I tightened my legs around his waist, locking me to him.

He chuckled against my lips. “Greedy.”

“Tease,” I said, mimicking his earlier act by catching his lip with my teeth.

“Fuck,” he groaned, shifting his hips as he ground into me, over and over, the movements increasing in intensity until they became feverish, until it felt like I would break apart. My head spun as the bliss built. He felt like he was everywhere, and when he dropped his mouth to my throat, and I felt the scrape of his fangs, it was all too much. Spasms rocked my body in tight, slick waves, throwing me so high, I didn’t think I’d ever come down as he followed me into that bliss, shuddering as my throat muffled his deep moan of release.

We stayed like that for a little bit, joined together, and both struggling to gain control of our breathing. Shaken, it took quite a few minutes for me to come to my senses while he eased himself from me and carefully lowered me to my feet.

With his arm holding me tightly against him, Casteel looked over his shoulder. “You know what? It is a beautiful garden.”

Casteel and I walked hand and hand through the city on the coast of the Seas of Saion, the sun and salty breeze warm against our skin as we stepped out of the seamstress shop, where a Miss Seleana quickly took my measurements. We weren’t alone. Kieran walked on the other side of me, and Delano, along with four other wolven, followed as Casteel took me through the winding, colorful streets full of storefronts painted in yellows and greens, and homes that boasted vivid blue front doors. An orange poppy blossom was tucked in my hair, one Casteel had paid nearly triple for, even though the street vendor tried to give us a dozen for free. Our hands were sticky from the cinnamon pastries we had been given a few blocks from the florist, in front of a shop that smelled like all things sugar and was painted to match the dewy grass. And there was a smile plastered to my face that not even the brief bursts of distrust radiating on and off throughout the afternoon could erase. I only seemed to sense the cautious emotion from the mortal inhabitants and a few of the Atlantians with graying hair. Those were few and far between. Otherwise, all I felt was curiosity and surprise. No one, not even those who bowed with a sense of wariness, was rude or threatening. That could’ve been because of Casteel, Kieran, and the wolven. It could’ve also been the Guards of the Crown, dressed in white that we spotted shortly before picking up the flower, their presence evidence that Casteel’s parents knew we moved about the city.

Or it could’ve been what they had heard about me—about what I was capable of.

Either way, I honestly couldn’t give a fig. I was enjoying myself despite the unanswered questions, the shadow of the Unseen lingering over us, what I’d done for the girl in the garden, and everything that needed to be decided and done.

When Casteel had asked if I wanted to take a walk through the city, I’d hesitated. We needed to speak with his parents. Not only did we owe them that, but there was also the possibility that they held some of the answers to the questions we had. But Casteel had kissed me and said, “We have tomorrow, Poppy, and we have right now. You get to decide how you want to spend it.”

I wanted those answers. I wanted to somehow ensure that his parents didn’t…well, think I was a threat. But with my muscles still lax and my blood still warm from those wicked moments in the alcove, I’d decided I wanted to spend right now exploring. Enjoying myself. Living.

And so, that was what we did.

We were steadily walking toward the lower part of the city and the glistening beaches, past buildings with outdoor dining tables packed with people chatting and sharing food. Kieran had called them cafés, and I knew places like that existed in Solis, but I’d only ever seen them in Masadonia, and from a distance. I’d never been inside one.

Having just experienced an icy treat made of crushed ice and fruit, we didn’t venture into any of the cafés.

Casteel stopped when we came upon a squat, windowless building, though, tugging me to the side. Stone benches sat between the pillars of a wide colonnade. “Didn’t you say you were interested in museums?”

Surprise flickered through me. On our journey to Skotos when we left Spessa’s End, I’d mentioned to Delano and Naill when they talked about the different conservatories in Atlantia, that I’d never been allowed to enter one in Solis. I hadn’t realized that Casteel had been paying attention, nor did I expect him to remember something I’d forgotten.

I nodded as I resisted the urge to wrap my arms around him like one of the furry little creatures that hung from the trees by their tails in the forests near the Elysium Peaks. I didn’t think Casteel would mind, but Kieran would probably sigh.

“Would you like to go inside?” Casteel asked.

“I would.” Eager to see some of Atlantia’s history, I managed to proceed up the steps beside Casteel and Kieran, moving at a sedate pace.

The inside was dimly lit and a bit stagnant, smelling faintly of camphor. As we passed a limestone sculpture of one of the goddesses, Kieran explained that there were no windows, so the light didn’t fade the paintings or stones.

And there were a lot of paintings of the gods—both of them together and individually. It was easy to pick out the ones depicting Nyktos since his face was always obscured by either glowing light, or his features were simply not rendered in detail.

“Remember what I told you about how he was depicted with a wolf?” Kieran said, drawing my gaze to a painting of the King of Gods standing beside a tall, grayish-black wolf.

“This represents his relationship with the wolven?”

Kieran nodded. There were many like that, even small sculptures of Nyktos with a wolven by his side. And farther down the long wall was a sketch with a white wolf drawn behind him, symbolizing his ability to take the shape of a wolf.

“I wonder what is in the museums in Solis,” I said as we stopped before a painting of the Goddess Ione, cradling a swaddled infant. “Do they have paintings like this? Did they copy them?”

“Is it true that only the upper class could enter the museums?” Kieran asked.

I nodded, stomach souring. “Yes. Only the wealthy and the Ascended. And so very few mortals are wealthy.”

“That is an archaic and brutal caste system.” Casteel’s eyes narrowed upon a landscape of what appeared to be Saion’s Cove. “One purely designed to create and strengthen oppression.”

“By creating a gap between those who have access to all the resources, and those who have access to none,” I said, my chest becoming heavy. “And Atlantia is really not like that? Not even a little?” The last bit I asked of Kieran, as I thought of those who needed to be reminded of who the wolven were.

“We are not like that,” he said. “Atlantia has never been that way.”

“That doesn’t mean that we’ve been perfect.” Casteel’s hand threaded through my hair. “There has been strife, but the Council of Elders was formed to prevent anyone from making a choice or decision that could jeopardize the people of Atlantia. That doesn’t mean the Crown doesn’t have ultimate authority,” he explained. “But the Council has a say, and it would be very unwise for their opinions to go unheard. It has only happened twice before, and the end results were not favorable.”

“When Malec Ascended Isbeth, and the others started following suit?” I surmised.

Casteel nodded. “The Council was against allowing it to occur, having the opinion that Malec should apologize, make what he did right, and forbid future Ascensions.”

“And what do you mean by make things right?” I had a sinking feeling I already knew.

“He was advised to rid himself of Isbeth, one way or another,” he said. “He did none of those things.”

“And so, here we are,” Kieran murmured.

I swallowed. “And what of the other time?”

A thoughtful expression pinched Casteel’s features. “It was back before Malec ruled, when there were other deities. The Council was started then, when the bloodlines began to outnumber the deities. The Council suggested that it was time for the crown to sit upon the head of one of the bloodlines. That was also ignored.”

Alastir hadn’t mentioned that in his cruddy history lesson. If they had listened to the Council, would the deities have survived?

A couple with two young children hastily bowed as we rounded a corner. Their shock at seeing us was evident in their widened eyes. As Casteel and Kieran greeted them with a smile and words of hello, I saw that they were most likely mortal. I followed suit with the greeting, hoping I didn’t come across as stiff.

Moving onto a case containing what appeared to be some sort of clay vase, I said, “Can I ask you two a question and have you give me an honest response?”

“Can’t wait to hear what this will be,” Kieran murmured while Casteel nodded.

I shot the wolven a dark look. “Do I seem awkward when I meet people?” I could feel warmth suffusing my cheeks. “Like back there, when I said hello? Did it sound right?”

“You sounded like anyone saying hello.” Casteel lifted a hand, tucking a strand of hair back from my face. “If anything, you seem a little shy, not awkward.”

“Really?” I asked hopefully. “Because I…well, I’m not used to actually interacting with people. In Solis, people didn’t really acknowledge me unless it was in a situation where it was allowed. So I feel weird, like I’m doing it wrong.”

“You’re not doing it wrong, Poppy.” The lines of Kieran’s face softened. “You sound fine.”

Casteel dropped a quick kiss to the bridge of my nose. “We swear.”

Kieran nodded.

Feeling a little better after hearing that, we continued on. If I were to become Queen, I supposed I’d have to get over these annoying insecurities.

Unsure of how that would happen, we slowly made our way past paintings and statues, many depicting the gods or fantastical cities that stretched into the clouds. Casteel claimed those were the cities in Iliseeum. They were all beautiful, but I stopped in front of a charcoal drawing. Some of it had faded, but it was clearly a sketch of a man seated upon a large throne. The lack of features told me it was Nyktos who sat there, but it was what sat at his feet that snagged my attention—and held it. Two extraordinarily large felines rested before him, their heads tilted in his direction. My eyes narrowed as I cocked my head to the side.

“This is a really old drawing,” Casteel said as he idly ran his hand up and down my back. “Supposedly drawn by one of the deities.”

It took me a moment to realize what those sketched cats reminded me of. “Are they cave cats?”

“I don’t think so,” Kieran answered as he stared up at the drawing.

“They look like them,” I said. “I saw one of them once…” I frowned as the dream I’d had while in the crypts resurfaced. “Or maybe more than once.”

Casteel glanced down at me. “Where did you see one? In a painting or drawing like this?”

“No.” I shook my head. “There was one caged in the castle at Carsodonia.”

Kieran’s brows lifted. “I don’t think that’s what you saw.”

“I saw a cat as large as you are in your wolven form,” I told him. “Ian saw it, too.”

He shook his head. “That’s impossible, Poppy. Cave cats have been extinct for at least a couple of hundred years.”

“What? No.” I looked between them. Casteel nodded. “They roam the Wastelands.”

“Who told you that?” Casteel asked.

“No one told me that. It’s just…” I trailed off, my gaze returning to the drawing. It was something that was just known. But in reality, it was the Ascended who had said as much. The Queen had told me that when I asked about the creature I’d seen in the castle. “Why would they lie about something like that?”

Kieran snorted. “Who knows? Why have they erased entire gods and created ones that don’t exist like Perus? I think they just like to make things up,” he countered—and he had a good point.

I stared at the two cats. “Then what was in that cage?”

“Possibly another large wild cat,” Casteel answered with a shrug. “But I think these two felines are supposed to symbolize the children of Nyktos and his Consort.”

“When you say children, are you talking about Theon or all the gods?” I asked.

“His actual children,” Casteel confirmed. “And Theon was never his actual son. That’s another thing the Ascended either lied about or they simply misunderstood due to his many titles.”

It was very possible it was a mistranslation. I stared at them, thinking how one of them was responsible for Malec. “Could they shift into cats?”

“Not sure,” Kieran said. “Nothing that I remember reading ever said as much, and I don’t believe Nyktos’s ability to shift was something passed on to his children.”

Of course, not. “What are their names?”

“Like with his Consort,” Casteel said, “they are not known. Not even their genders.”

I raised a brow. “Let me guess, Nyktos was just super-protective of their identities?”

Casteel smirked. “That’s what they say.”

“Sounds like he was super controlling,” I muttered.

“Or maybe just really private,” Kieran suggested as he reached over and tugged gently on the strand of hair Casteel had tucked back earlier. “Being the King of Gods, I’m sure he sought privacy wherever he could.”

Maybe.

As we continued on through the museum, it was hard not to think back on that painting or the creature I’d seen in that cage when I was a child. I remembered the way the animal had prowled in its confines, desperate, and with a keen intelligence in its eyes.