Feeling my cheeks warm, I looked away. “I don’t know about the warrior part—”

“I do,” he insisted. “From the moment you stayed instead of walking out of that room at the Red Pearl, I knew you had a warrior’s strength and bravery. It’s why you went to Rylan’s funeral. It’s what drove you out to the Rise when the Craven attacked and fought back—fought me. It’s why you didn’t bow under Alastir’s remarks when you first met him but rather challenged his beliefs. Hell, it’s what drove you to learn how to fight in the first place.” A dimple appeared in his right cheek. “It’s your bloodline—it’s you.”

The warmth in my chest had little to do with the fire. “I’m still a little annoyed that I’m not of the changeling line and I can’t shift forms.”

Casteel laughed, and the sound was as real and sunny as my chest felt. And when his gaze snagged on mine, I finally found the courage of the warrior he claimed I was.

And started with perhaps the most embarrassing thing ever. “I spoke with Alastir earlier.”

“He mentioned that he was going to visit with you.”

“He did, and he…he told me about the Joining.”

Casteel’s head swung toward mine so fast, I was surprised he didn’t crack his neck. “He did what?”

“Do I really need to repeat that?”

“What did he tell you?”

“He told me what it is.” I focused on my brush. “That it’s a blood exchange that often turns into something, um, more intimate.”

“Good gods, he did not.”

“He did.”

“I…” Casteel suddenly broke out into deep, thunderous laughter. The kind that was so loud and hard, it sounded like it hurt.

My wide gaze shot to him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “It’s just that I would’ve paid good money to see him try to explain that to you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Would you have?”

“Hell, yes, I would’ve. Oh, gods.” Dragging a hand through his hair, he looked over at me. “Let me guess? He said it was crude and disgusting?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Gods, what an old alarmist.” He laughed again, shoulders shaking. “I wish I could’ve seen your face.”

“Well, since I learned about it from him, I wished I could’ve punched you in your face.”

“I bet you did.”

“I don’t know what is so funny. He said people might expect it from us—especially because I’m not full-blooded Atlantian!”

“First off,” he said, struggling for breath, “I don’t think anyone is going to expect that.”

From you seemed to hang unsaid between us.

“And while it is an intimate ritual, one that isn’t often done anymore, it is not always sexual. For some, I’m sure it becomes that naturally. And hey, to each their own. They’re consenting adults, and you do you, you know? I’m not going to judge.”

“I’m not judging either.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not?”

“I’m not,” I insisted.

“So, you’re interested then?” he murmured.

“That is not where I was going with that.”

“Uh-huh.”

I ignored the way he said that. “Is it true that a mortal with Atlantian blood would be given a longer lifespan?”

Casteel nodded.

“Has that been done before?”

“I haven’t known any bonded elementals who have taken a mortal with Atlantian blood,” he answered. “As far as I know, there hasn’t been. And it’s a lot to ask of a wolven. That kind of blood bond goes both ways. If the wolven dies, so does the other, and if the mortal with Atlantian blood dies, the wolven would also.”

“Oh.” I blinked slowly. “Alastir didn’t mention that.”

“Wait.” He swung his head toward mine. “Do you even know what could happen during that ritual that would make it so very crude—”

“I know what could happen,” I snapped.

“Is it because of that diary?”

“Shut up.”

“Did you bookmark the chapters detailing how Willa spent afternoons entertaining not one but two suitors, one in front and the other—?”

“You seem to know a lot about that book.”

“I love that fucking book,” he said, and my jaw ached from how hard I was clenching it. “So, you’re interested then, Princess. What a wild side you have.”

“That is not what I said!” My cheeks flushed.

“I know.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry. I’m being an ass.”

“At least you recognize it.”

“I just…I was not expecting this. But you do have a very…adventurous personality.”

“I hate you,” I growled.

“Not that adventurous, huh?” Casteel laughed again. “Look, I know you’re not looking for this marriage to go beyond the necessary,” he said, and that strange, stupid ache in my chest pulsed. “So, it’s not even something you need to worry about. But the Joining is meant to strengthen the bond that’s already there, and ensure that the partner is also a part of that bond. It’s not done lightly, and again, it is not always a sexual thing. I know it’s been done where everyone kept their body parts to themselves.”

My brows lifted. “Then why did Alastir make it sound like it was a…”

“A dirty thing?” He grinned. “Because he’s old and overdramatic and thinks he’s being helpful.”

“Why—?” I cut myself off before I could ask why he’d never brought it up. I already knew why. Just like I knew why he hadn’t told me about Spessa’s End.

“What?”

I shook my head, changing the subject. “Alastir said he was Malec’s bonded wolven.”

“That he was. Did he tell you he told my mother that Malec had Ascended Isbeth?” When I nodded, Casteel let his head fall back. “Alastir broke his oath, severing his bond. That has…well, that has rarely happened. Alastir can sometimes say too much, but he’s a good man.”

I nodded slowly, watching him as he closed his eyes. “Your mother didn’t leave him then?”

“No.”

“Did she stay with him because she loved him?”

“You know, I really don’t know. She doesn’t talk about him, but you have to wonder given she named her first son a name so similar,” he said. I wondered how their father felt about that. “When my mother confronted Malec, she did so privately, but what he’d done still got out. And others followed suit. In a way, it all happened so quickly.”

“And here we are,” I murmured.

“Here we are,” he confirmed.

Drawing in a deep breath, I said what needed to be said. “I know you need to feed. I know you’re close to the edge, and you haven’t fed from anyone else.”

“Someone has been talking,” he replied flatly. “And I doubt it was Alastir.”

“Someone needed to. What happens if you don’t feed, other than the black eyes? If you do tip over the edge?” I asked. “You never really explained beyond it being a very bad thing.”

He looked away, dragging his lip between his teeth. “It’s like being…dead inside, worse than an Ascended. We fall into bloodlust, but it’s a violent madness, like that of a Craven. But we don’t decay or rot.” He shook his head. “Once we tip over the edge, we grow stronger with each feeding, but it’s like a disease of the mind because we become nothing more than rabid animals. Very few come back from that.”

I remembered what he said the Ascended did to him—withheld blood until he was ravenous. “Did the Ascended withhold blood from you often?”

“There’d be years when they kept me well fed.” The twist of his lips was a mockery of a smile. “Then they’d give me enough so I didn’t die, and sometimes, that wasn’t enough.”

Years.

Sorrow gripped my heart—for him, for his brother, and any other who was going through that. But mostly for Casteel because he knew exactly what his brother was facing. “But you came back.”

“There were times when I didn’t think I would, Poppy.” He stared into the flames, his voice barely audible. “When I forgot how much time had passed. When I forgot who I was and what mattered to me. It was like parts of my brain had turned dark.” He dragged a hand through his hair and then dropped it to his knee. “But I came back. Not the same. Never the same. But I found parts of who I used to be.”

I swallowed against the knot in my throat. “I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” He cut me a sharp look that would’ve stung my feelings before, but I understood it—understood him. Sympathy wasn’t always wanted. “You did nothing you should apologize for.”

“You’re right. I was going to say I’m glad you found yourself.”

A harsh laugh burst from him. “Truly, Poppy? Are you really?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “You may have come back as an asshole, but that’s better than being lost in your own mind. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

The laugh that left him was softer, and it tugged at my lips. “True.” He dragged a hand down his face. “Anyway, I know what it’s like to be close to the edge. I’ve been past it. I’m fine.”

“But you’re not, Casteel.”

His eyes widened slightly as he looked at me.

“What?”

“It’s just that you hardly say my name.”

“Should I call you Your Highness?”

“Gods,” he choked out. “No.”