The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood And Ash Series Book 3)
The Crown of Gilded Bones: Chapter 13

Turning back to me, Casteel took my hand once more, lifting it to his mouth. “They’re no longer glowing.” He placed a kiss on my knuckles, and that single act eased a lot of the tension already creeping into me. He bowed his head, placing his mouth near my ear as he whispered, “Thank you for what you did for Quentyn.”

I shook my head, and he kissed the uneven line of skin along my cheek. Keeping his fingers threaded through mine, he motioned to the Guardians.

Two came forward, placing their hands over their hearts and bowing as they each grasped a handle of the black doors. Stone scraped as they pulled them open. Candlelight spilled out onto the colonnade as Jasper prowled inside, his silver fur gleaming in the light. His son and then Delano followed as Casteel and I walked forward, the wolven dagger still clutched in my grip, hidden by the cloak. The remaining wolven flanked us, streaming along the thick columns lining the four walls of the interior chamber—black stone columns as reflective as the Temples in Solis. I watched the wolven roam between those glossy pillars, their ears lowered and eyes a luminous winter blue as they stalked the chamber, circling the tall, broad-shouldered male sitting on one of the numerous stone benches lining the center of the Temple of Saion, his back to us. His back was rigid as his head followed the wolven’s path.

“Father,” Casteel called as the door closed behind us with a soft thud.

The King of Atlantia rose slowly, cautiously, and then turned, his hand drifting to his side where his sword would’ve been sheathed. The man had been hard to read at the Chambers of Nyktos, but now he didn’t have nearly as much control over his emotions as his gaze shifted from his son to me.

He jerked back a step, his legs bumping into the bench behind him. “You didn’t…” He trailed off as a blast of icy shock chilled my skin. His eyes were wide, pupils dilating so fast that only a thin strip of gold was visible as he stared at me, his lips parting.

My mouth dried as I fought the urge to close down my senses. I kept them open as he took a step forward. Kieran’s head snapped in his direction, and a low growl rumbled through the chamber, but Casteel’s father appeared beyond hearing as he said hoarsely, “You were dying.”

I shivered at the reminder. “I was.”

Strands of light hair fell against the rough growth of hair along his jaw and cheeks. “You were beyond saving,” he rasped as Kieran appeared to relax, inching back even though Casteel’s father took another tentative step toward us. “I saw you. I saw your wound and how much you bled. You were beyond saving unless—”

“I took what was left of her blood and gave her mine,” Casteel said. “That is how she stands here. I Ascended her.”

“But…” The King appeared at a loss for words.

I drew in a shallow breath and found my voice. “I can walk in the sun—we actually rode all day through it. I don’t feel cold to the touch, and I have emotions,” I told him. “And I don’t feel the need to tear out anyone’s throat.”

Casteel’s gaze slid to mine as a faint thrill of amusement reached me.

“What?” I whispered. “I feel that’s necessary to point out.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and then returned my attention to his father. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m not a vampry.”

King Valyn’s chest rose with a deep inhale, and with that breath, I felt his shock retreat with each passing second, becoming fainter. But I didn’t believe that he’d overcome his surprise that quickly. He was tucking his emotions away, hiding them where I couldn’t easily reach them—doing the same thing his son did when he didn’t want me to know his emotions. A part of me, in the center of my chest, hummed with energy and wanted to dig into those walls he’d built, replace the fragile seams, and peel them apart, exposing—

No.

I didn’t want that.

I didn’t want that for a multitude of reasons, namely for the fact that it would be a massive violation. If someone shut me out, that was their right. That was the only reason that mattered, but I wasn’t even sure I could do something like that.

His father cleared his throat, snapping my attention back to him. “I can’t believe you did it, Casteel.” He backed up and then sat on the bench, stretching out one leg. I didn’t attempt to read him. “You knew what could’ve happened.”

“I knew exactly what could’ve happened,” Casteel returned. “I knew the risks, and I’d do it all over again even if she had Ascended.”

My heart gave a happy little wiggle, but Casteel’s father looked less than impressed. “You know what that act did to our kingdom—to our people—and you were willing to risk that again?”

“If you think that what I did was a shock, then you need to understand that I will do anything and everything for my wife.” Casteel’s gaze latched on to his father’s. “No risk is too great, nor is anything too sacred. Because she is my everything. There is nothing greater than her, and I do mean nothing.”

My lips parted on a breathy inhale as I stared at Casteel. A messy, little ball of emotions climbed its way up my throat.

“I do not doubt that, son. I was there when you came to and realized that she was gone. I saw you, and I have never seen you like that. I will never forget it,” his father said, and my head snapped in his direction. That was twice now that someone had said that. “And I can even understand your need to protect her. Gods, do I understand that.” He dragged a hand over his face, stopping to scratch at the beard. “But as the King, I cannot approve of what you did.”

Casteel’s hand slipped from mine as several of the wolven looked at the King. A cold, utterly frightening sort of anger brewed inside the Prince—the kind of rage I knew had been one of the reasons he had come to be known as the Dark One. “I wasn’t aware that I asked for your approval.”

My heart stuttered as his father snorted. “I think that’s obvious, considering that the deed is already done.”

“And?” Casteel challenged in a voice that was too soft. Too calm.

Tiny hairs rose all over my body as my palm became damp around the hilt of the wolven dagger. A great sense of wariness rose from the wolven. They became eerily still. “Wait,” I said, unsure if I was speaking to them or if I spoke to every living creature in the room. “Casteel took a huge risk, one that many would agree he shouldn’t have taken, but he did. It’s over. I’m not a vampry.” I thought of the blood hunger I’d experienced upon awakening. “Or at the very least, I am not like the others. And while he may be deserving of the lecture—”

His father arched a brow while Casteel frowned at me. “It feels a little irrelevant right now,” I stressed.

“You’re right,” King Valyn said after a moment. “He’s lucky. Or you are. Or I and the entire kingdom are because you’re not an Ascended. That much I know. If you were, my son knows what I would be obligated to do.” His gaze met mine. “And I say that knowing it is highly unlikely that I would even reach you before these wolven—those I have known for hundreds of years—ripped into me.” His gaze flicked to his son’s. “You would’ve started a war, one that would’ve weakened us to the real threat that lies in the west. You just need to know that.”

One side of Casteel’s lips curled up, and I tensed at the sight of the smirk. “I know what my actions would’ve caused.”

“And yet?”

“Here we stand,” he replied.

I inhaled sharply as I felt the hot burn of anger break through the walls that his father had built. “Yes, here we all stand, apparently determined to irritate the hell out of one another. Not me. I don’t want to irritate anyone—you know, the person who was attacked not once but twice and then shot in the chest with a crossbow,” I snapped, and both their gazes shot to me. “And yet, I’m the one who has to tell you two to knock it the hell off.”

The King blinked at me. “Why am I reminded of your mother, Cas?”

“Because that sounds like something she’d say,” he replied. “Or probably has said, minus the being shot part.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, well, as I said, I’m not an Ascended, or at least not like the others. We all can agree on that, right? So, would you happen to know what I am?” I asked, and then an awkward laugh escaped me. The sound earned a few curious stares from the wolven. “That sounded extremely weird to say out loud.”

“I’ve heard far stranger things,” Casteel commented, and that earned him a curious glance from me. “She does not feel like anything I’ve felt before,” Casteel said to his father, his tone shifting from that deadly calm that was always a warning of very bad things to come. “But she’s not mortal any longer.”

It was very bizarre to hear that, despite already knowing it.

“No, she is not.” His father studied me so intently that it was hard to stand there and not react. Especially since that kind of scrutiny had only ever accompanied someone staring at my scars. I didn’t think he even saw them at the moment. “And you’re not a vampry. None of them can walk in the sun or be among our kind so soon after the change and be so calm.”

“I didn’t think so,” Casteel said. “Can you explain what happened?”

His father didn’t answer for a long moment, and as I focused on him, I truly felt nothing from him. “It has to be her heritage. Her bloodline,” he said. “Somehow, it played a role in this. She feels…I don’t understand how she feels.”

Warning bells went off, and it had everything to do with the sudden biting taste of conflict filling my mouth. Did he know more than he was saying? Instinct told me that he did. I glanced around the chamber, seeing only the wolven among us. I took a deep breath. “Alastir told me who I’m related to—”

“I can only imagine what Alastir has told you,” King Valyn cut in. “Some of it may be true. Some of it might not be. And there are things my wife and I may be able to confirm for you.”

There was a skip in my chest, and the warmth of Casteel’s body pressed against my side as he shifted closer to me. “But?”

“But this is a conversation I won’t have without Eloana present,” he said, and I felt another jolt in my chest. His gaze met mine. “I know it’s a lot for me to ask you to wait, but she needs to be a part of that conversation.”

I was being asked to wait to replace out if I was truly related to King Malec—to delay possibly discovering why I didn’t become a vampry when Casteel Ascended me. Of course, I didn’t want to, but I looked at Casteel. His eyes briefly met mine, and then he looked at his father. “That is asking a lot, Father.”

“I know, but just like you will do anything for your wife, I will do anything to protect mine.”

“What does she have to be protected from?” Casteel asked.

“A history that has haunted us for centuries,” his father answered, and I shivered. He stood slowly. “So, you can push this, but I won’t speak about any of it until Eloana is present. You can summon her now if you want, but I figure you have other pressing matters to deal with.”

Alastir.

“And I also think you want me to talk to your mother before she replaces out that you’ve held me here,” his father continued, a wry sense of humor creeping into his tone. “Plus, it gives you time to rest—both of you. You’ve been traveling nonstop and dealing with a lot. But it’s up to you.”

Casteel’s stare met mine, and it took a lot for me to nod. “You sure?” he asked, his voice low.

“I am,” I confirmed, even as I wanted to shout in frustration.

His father’s chest rose. “Thank you. I think we all need this extra time,” he said, and tiny balls of unease took root. Alastir had said that Casteel’s parents weren’t involved, but there was a reason he wanted to delay this conversation—why he wanted his wife present. “I believe it would be extremely wise for us to keep this from anyone not present at the ruins,” he advised. In other words, no one needed to know that Casteel had Ascended me. “And that all who were there, be sworn to secrecy.”

“Agreed,” Casteel stated.

“But you sense something different about me, right?” I looked between the two. “Wouldn’t any who can sense that know?”

“They will only know that you are neither vampry nor mortal. What they feel will not tell them what occurred,” he explained, and that was definitely a comfort to know. But what about the trees of Aios? That must have alerted the people of Atlantia that something had happened. “Am I free to go, then?” he asked of his son, and I couldn’t determine if that was a serious question or not.

Casteel nodded. Kieran and the others tracked the King as he walked toward us, stopping a few feet away as he stared at his son. Neither of them spoke. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that no damage had been done to their relationship, even though I wished that wasn’t the case. I only hoped it was repairable.

King Valyn’s gaze shifted to mine. “I am sorry for what was done to you when you arrived and what has happened since. This is not who Atlantia is. Neither Eloana nor I would have allowed something like this to happen if we’d known what Alastir had planned,” he told me as empathy pushed through the walls he’d built, reaching me. “And I also know that my apology does very little to change or rectify what has happened—what could have been the outcome of such treachery and evil. And that is what Alastir and those who conspired with him have committed.”

I nodded. “It’s…” I stopped myself before telling him it was okay. Because it wasn’t—none of this was. So, all I could do was nod once more.

King Valyn turned to his son. “I can only assume what you plan to do with Alastir and the others who are held below, but I want your assurance that he will not survive the night. If he does, he will be executed in the morning,” he told Casteel. “And while the crown still sits upon my head, it is an order I will personally ensure is carried out.”

While I was glad he didn’t demand leniency for Alastir, the part about the crown sent a wave of anxiety through me. I knew what he meant without him having to say it more clearly. He didn’t expect to bear the weight of the crown for much longer.

“He will not survive the night,” Casteel assured him. “None of them will.”

King Valyn nodded and then hesitated for a moment. “Come to us when you are both ready. We will be waiting.”

I watched Casteel’s father make his way around us, the wolven clearing a path for him.

“Wait. Please.” Aware of Casteel’s stare, I turned to where his father stopped before the door. He looked back at me. “You were at the ruins in the Wastelands. Thank you for helping Casteel—for helping me,” I said, hoping I wasn’t proven a fool later for thanking him. “Thank you.”

King Valyn’s head tilted to the side. “You don’t have to thank me. You’re family now. Of course, I would help you.”

Home.

Kieran sat beside me in his wolven form as I stood between the cypresses, under the splintered beams of moonlight. The cliff’s edge overlooked Saion Cove’s now-dark waters, reflecting the deep blues and blacks of the night sky. From here, I could see the city lights glittering like stars coming to rest beyond the trees and valleys. It all looked like a beautiful canvas, almost unreal. It reminded me a little of Carsodonia, but even in the middle of the night, the bay would be full of ships, transporting people and goods in and out. But it was peaceful here, with the sound of the waterfalls and distant calls of nightbirds, and I was shocked and relieved to feel the same as I had when I stood in the Chambers of Nyktos.

I still felt like I was home.

Was it my bloodline—the eather in it—recognizing the land, the air, and the sea? Was my heritage that powerful? Because I honestly hadn’t believed I would feel that after the attack.

A warm breeze sent a tangled strand of hair across my face. I caught it, tucking it back as the same current caught the edges of the cloak I wore, lifting them. Would my parents—at least the one who carried Atlantian blood in them—have felt this way upon seeing Atlantia? If they had made it. My chest clenched with sorrow and anger, and it took everything in me to push it down and not let it take over. If I allowed that, the nasty ball of emotion that had settled in my chest would work its way free, and I…I couldn’t allow that to happen. Not now.

Weight pressed against my leg and hip, and I looked down to replace that Kieran had leaned into me. Like I often did with Delano, the urge to pet or scratch his head was hard to ignore. He’d stayed outside with me after Casteel had led me onto a stone pavilion behind the Temple of Saion and then went underground with a few others to retrieve Alastir from the crypts.

It wasn’t the same one they’d kept me in, but Casteel had asked me to stay aboveground. I imagined he did that because he didn’t want me to be surrounded by the dead again, to be reminded of my time spent with them. His foresight was another thing I was eternally grateful for.

I turned back to the sea as I dredged up the hope I’d felt when I realized that there was a chance that Ian was like me. If he was, then he could come here. He would love it. I already knew it after only seeing what little I had. He would feel the peace, too. And when he saw the sea, as clear as it was during the day, and as dark as it was at night? I couldn’t wait to discover what stories he’d be inspired to tell. A smile tugged at my lips.

Kieran stood, ears perking as he heard the footsteps several moments before me. Maybe I was stronger, but it appeared I hadn’t developed the nifty hearing abilities of the Atlantians—because, of course not.

I looked over my shoulder. Emil approached slowly, aware that Kieran wasn’t the only wolven among the trees.

“It is time?” I asked.

Emil nodded as he stopped several feet from me. “When Alastir saw that Cas was alone, he believed you to be dead. We didn’t correct that assumption. Cas thought that the belief would make Alastir more inclined to speak, to incriminate any others who may be involved. But the bastard isn’t saying much.”

“But he is saying something?”

Emil’s jaw hardened. “Nothing that needs repeating.”

“Let me guess? He said that he was only doing what he needed to do to protect Atlantia and that I was a threat?” I surmised, and the Atlantian’s gaze turned steely. “And I imagine he was also incredibly polite and apologetic as he said those things.”

“Sounds about right,” Emil sneered, and I wasn’t surprised or disappointed. What else could Alastir truly say? Admit that there hadn’t been anyone else there that night at the inn? It wouldn’t matter if he did. There was nothing any of us needed to hear from him. At least, nothing I wanted. “Which is also why I think Casteel allowed him to believe you’re dead. I think he’s already amused by the look that will most likely settle upon Alastir’s face when he realizes that he failed. Come.” Emil started to turn. “Cas will summon us when he wants us to make our presence known.”

But had he failed?

Yes.

I jerked as my heart jumped. I looked down at Kieran, my skin erupting in tiny bumps. He continued watching Emil with those blue-silver eyes. “Did I—?” I stopped myself. There was no way I had heard Kieran’s voice in my mind. Casteel couldn’t even communicate that way. But hadn’t I heard Delano’s voice earlier? I’d been asleep, though.

“Are you okay?” Emil asked, his concern evident.

“Yeah. Yes.” I quickly bent, picking up the wolven dagger from where I’d placed it on the ground. “I’m ready.”

Quietly, I followed Emil through the thick stand of trees, returning to the firelight of the pavilion. I stopped when Emil lifted a hand for silence. We were still several yards from the pavilion, but I could see Casteel.

He stood in the center of the structure, arms at his sides, his head cocked just a bit, revealing only the striking curve of his cheek and a tilt of full lips. Dressed in all black, he looked like a spirit of the night, one called forth to carry out vengeance.

I slipped the dagger under the fold of my cloak as I saw the Guardians lead about half a dozen men out from the back of the Temple, all of them bound with their hands tied behind their backs. Muscles stiffened as Naill led the last one. Alastir’s scarred face was devoid of emotion as they lined him up with the others.

Hatred seared my soul as he and the others were forced to their knees. My parents. Casteel. His parents. Me. All of us had trusted him, and he had not only planned to hand me over to the Ascended but had also ordered my death. And in a way, he hadn’t failed. I had been killed. Casteel had saved me, and I had awoken as something else.

What Alastir believes about me doesn’t matter, I told myself as I watched Casteel prowl forward, moving toward the nameless men who bled the bitter taste of fear into the air. I hadn’t done anything to deserve what Alastir and they had done. I had only defended myself. My parents had only trusted him. My grip tightened on the dagger.

Casteel was so incredibly fast.

I didn’t even realize what he’d done until the man farthest away from Alastir toppled over. Five more followed like dominos, and I didn’t see the moonlight glinting off his slick sword until it stopped a mere inch from Alastir’s neck. He’d severed their heads. All of them except Alastir. In a few heartbeats.

I sucked in the breath that seemed to leave Alastir’s body. The wolven was so still that it was like he was made of stone.

“You betrayed your King and Queen,” Casteel said, his voice showing no emotion. And I…I felt nothing from him as he held the blood-soaked edge of the sword to Alastir’s neck. “You betrayed me, and you betrayed Atlantia. But none of those are the worst of your sins.”

Alastir turned his head just enough to look up at Casteel. “I did—”

“The unthinkable,” Casteel said.

“The prophecy—”

“Is utter bullshit,” Casteel snarled.

Alastir was silent only for a few moments. “I am sorry for the pain I have caused you, Casteel. I had to do it. She had to be dealt with. I hope you will understand that someday.”

A tremor coursed through Casteel as I felt his temper rise, hot as the molten ore used to forge steel. For a moment, I thought that Casteel would do it. That he would end Alastir’s life right there. And, honestly, I wouldn’t have held it against him. If Alastir had done this to Casteel, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.

But Casteel did.

With awe-inspiring self-control, he pulled the sword away from Alastir’s neck and lowered it, slowly using the tunic Alastir wore to wipe the weapon clean.

The insult heightened the color on Alastir’s cheeks.

“You are responsible for the years of nightmares that have plagued Poppy, aren’t you?” Casteel asked as he finished cleaning his sword. “And then you befriended her. Looked her in the eyes and smiled at her, all the while knowing that you left her to die a horrific death.”

Alastir stared straight ahead. “I did.”

“Those Craven may have been the ones to tear into her skin, but it was ultimately you who is responsible for her pain—for the scars both visible and hidden. For that alone, I should kill you.” Casteel sheathed his sword. “But I won’t.”

“W-what?” Alastir’s head jerked in his direction. “You…you offer me a reprieve?”

“I’m sorry.” Casteel didn’t sound even remotely apologetic. Emil was right. He was amused. “I think you misunderstand. I said I should kill you, but I won’t. I didn’t say you wouldn’t die tonight.” He looked over his shoulder at the trees.

To where I waited.

Emil nodded as he stepped aside.

I walked forward.

A harsh breath was the only sound as I crossed the distance. Alastir’s eyes widened. Our gazes met and held. A guttural rumble of warning came from behind me. Warm fur brushed my hand as Kieran prowled forward, coming to stand beside me.

Heart strangely calm, I held the dagger under the cloak as Alastir looked up at me in shock. “How…?” His handsome, scarred face contorted as his surprise slipped away, and rage etched his features. His hatred was a tangible entity. “Do it. I dare you. It won’t matter. This doesn’t end with me. You’ll prove me right. You will—”

Swinging my arm in a quick, sweeping arc, the bloodstone sliced deep into his throat, ending the poisonous words in a gurgle.

I knelt, catching Alastir by the shoulder before he fell forward. We were at eye-level now, the shock of the wound replacing the hatred in his eyes. I had no idea what mine showed—if they showed anything.

“I will never think of you again after this night,” I promised, wiping the blade clean on the front of his tunic, just as Casteel had. “I just wanted you to know that.”

His mouth opened, but nothing but blood came out. I rose as I let go of him. He toppled, jerking as his blood spilled freely.

“Well,” Casteel drew out the word. “That will not be a quick death.”

Watching the stone turn black in the moonlight for a moment, I looked at Casteel. “I was wrong before. Some don’t deserve the honor of a quick death.”

One side of his mouth quirked, hinting at a dimple as his gaze flickered over my face. “Such a stunning, vicious little creature.”

I turned as Kieran stalked past me to where the body thrashed on the ground. He planted a massive paw on Alastir’s back, his claws digging in as he lifted his head to the sky. A deep howl pierced the silence of the night, echoing through the valleys and over the sea. Tiny goosebumps prickled my skin. The sound was haunting, seeming to hang in the air even after he lowered his head.

A heartbeat passed.

Down below, near the dark sea, a long, keening howl answered. Farther out, there was another and another. Then, throughout the city, hundreds answered Kieran’s call, their yips and barks only overshadowed by the pounding sound against the ground, the rush of their bodies racing among the trees. The thousands of claws digging into soil and stone.

They came.

Like one of the relentless waves crashing against the rocks below, they came in flashes of fur and teeth, both large and small. They came, and they devoured.