Kieran applauded. “Good job.”

“Shut up.”

The wolven laughed as one of the workers called out Casteel’s name.

Casteel looked over, squinting. He touched my lower back. “I’ll be right back.”

I nodded as I turned to Molly, scratching her behind the ear as I watched Casteel jog toward the house.

“By the way,” Kieran approached me, “I hope you’re not embarrassed about this morning.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” I whispered.

“You’re not?” He sounded doubtful.” “You won’t look at me.”

“I was just looking at you a few moments ago.”

“Only because you wanted to do violent and terrible things to me.”

I smiled because that was true.

“You look like you want to do that now.”

Brows raised, I looked at him. “Happy? I’m looking at you now.”

A half-grin appeared. “Yes, but your face is as red as a tomato.”

“Whatever,” I muttered.

“And you still look like you want to murder me.”

I sighed.

He adjusted Molly’s halter as he said, “You know what you felt during the feeding and what surely came afterward is only natural.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need you to tell me this.”

“Then maybe you would like some advice?”

“Not really.”

“I’m going to give it to you anyway.”

“Of course, you are.”

“If you wish for future feedings—and I’m sure you realize there will be future ones—to be less intimate, you could offer him your wrist.”

I spun toward Kieran. “Well, that information is so very helpful now.”

Kieran laughed, not even bothering to move out of the way when I punched his arm.

“Ouch,” he murmured. “That was actually hard.”

“Do I even want to know why you just hit Kieran?” Casteel asked as he rejoined us.

Kieran’s eyes lit as he opened his mouth—

“No,” I jumped in, shooting Kieran a look that promised death if he spoke as Casteel came to stand beside me. “You do not.”

Grinning, Kieran backed up. “When has she ever needed a reason to be violent?”

“Good point.” Casteel glanced down at me, one side of his lips quirking. The damn dimple winked into existence. “I guess I should be grateful that she didn’t stab you.”

“There’s always later,” I muttered.

A throaty, feminine laugh snapped my head around. “You’re right, Kieran. I like her.”

Standing barefoot in the terrace’s doorway was a stunning woman dressed in black leggings and a bright yellow, sleeveless tunic that fit the curve of her hips and chest. Golden cuffs encircled her wrists and upper arms. Her jet-black hair, braided in narrow, tight rows, nearly reached her waist. The pale, wintry blue eyes were a striking contrast to skin as beautiful as the rich black of the night-blooming roses. There was some vague familiarity about the slant of her cheeks and the shape of her brow, but I knew I’d never met the female wolven before.

“Because she insinuated that I could be stabbed later?” Kieran muttered. “Shocker.”

Oh, gods, I really needed to stop talking about stabbing people.

The woman laughed. “Of course.” She stepped out of the doorway, her gaze flicking to Casteel. “Why are you standing there so quiet?”

“I am not interrupting you.” Casteel held up his hands. “The last time I did, you knocked me on my ass.”

I blinked.

“That is not why I knocked you on your ass,” she replied. “I don’t exactly remember why I did it, but I’m sure it was because you did something to deserve it.”

The corners of my lips turned up.

“Since both of them have no manners, I’ll introduce myself. I’m Vonetta, but everyone calls me Netta. I’m Kieran’s sister.”

Shock rippled through me. “You have a sister,” I blurted out.

Vonetta shot her brother a look. “Wow, Kieran.”

“Hey, Casteel never said I had one either.”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Casteel remarked.

“My feelings are hurt, and I am the baby of the family. My feelings should never be hurt,” she tossed over her shoulder. “I expect an extra batch of the candied fruit.”

“As soon as I have an hour to make some, I will.”

“You have had plenty of hours to do so already.” Facing me, she extended a hand. Her nails were painted a yellow as brilliant as her tunic.

“I’m Penellaphe,” I said, taking her hand. The moment our skin touched, her eyes widened. “Did you just feel something weird?”

“Yeah. Like a static charge,” she answered as Casteel moved in closer. She let go of my hand. “That’s strange.”

“Coulton felt the same thing,” Casteel said.

“And I felt something like that back in New Haven,” Kieran reminded me.

“That’s right.” I clasped my hands together. “I'd forgotten.”

“Well, I'm kind of offended now,” he muttered.

“Do you feel anything like that?” I asked Casteel, recalling a similar feeling a few times we’d touched.

“I have,” he said, head tilted as he examined me closely, like I was a strange new species. “I thought it was my imagination.”

“I’ve felt it when I’ve touched you.” I turned back to the siblings. “But I didn’t feel anything now or when Coulton or Kieran felt something earlier.”

“Apparently, we’re not as special as Casteel,” Vonetta commented.

“You should’ve already known that,” he replied.

She shot him a look. “You saying something like that was probably why I knocked you on your ass the last time.”

I laughed. “I like her.”

“Of course, you do.” Casteel sighed as he placed his hand on my back. But when I looked up at him, he had that look to him again. Like he’d lost his breath. Swallowing, he looked over at Kieran’s sister. “Are you going to invite us in?”

“Are you going to be less annoying?”

“Probably not, but since I’m your Prince….”

“Whatever. Fine.” Then she smiled. “Come in. I just finished making sandwiches.”

The living area was a round, cozy area full of color. Thick sky-blue floor cushions circled a low-to-the-ground white table. Bright orange and deep purple throw pillows covered a black settee. The breeze let in by the open windows and terrace doors lazily turned the blades of a ceiling fan. A stack of books on an end table by the settee snagged my attention as Casteel tugged me down onto one of the cushions on the floor while Vonetta and Kieran disappeared through a rounded archway.

“Is lemonade fine?” Vonetta’s voice carried out from the other room. “Kieran made it, so it’s more sweet than sour.”

Casteel glanced at me, and when I nodded, he called out, “That’s perfect.”

A few moments later, Kieran returned carrying four glasses, which he placed on the table before dropping onto the cushion on the other side of Casteel.

“Thank you,” I said, picking up the cool glass. Ice cubes clinked together, and I realized there must be a cold room underground somewhere since there appeared to be no electricity running in Spessa’s End yet.

“Don’t be polite,” Kieran remarked. “It weirds me out.”

I cracked a grin at that as I took a sip. The sweet and sour mix was perfect. “This is actually really good.”

“Kieran is a master at making drinks,” Casteel shifted back on one arm, leaning slightly into my shoulder. “Especially the kind involving alcohol.”

“A man must have his talents.”

“Even if said talents are generally useless,” Vonetta commented as she entered, carrying a silver tray loaded with sandwiches cut into narrow strips and a large bowl of strawberries dusted with sugar.

“I’ll remember that the next time you ask me to make you a drink,” Kieran replied.

Vonetta snorted as she sat beside me. “I hope you like cucumber sandwiches. Other than cold cuts, it’s the only sandwich I can manage.”

“They’re one of my favorites. Thank you,” I said, picking one up. “And it’s the only sandwich I’ve ever made, actually.”

“Really?” Casteel asked, handing me one of the napkins from the tray.

I nodded. “I wasn’t allowed to cook or to learn how, but I did sneak into the kitchens sometimes and watch,” I admitted, and then felt silly the moment the words had left my mouth. I had no idea how much Vonetta even knew about my past. Heat crept up my throat as I sat back a little, distancing myself from Casteel. I quickly shoved half the sandwich into my mouth.

“Kieran told me a little bit of what it was like for you,” Vonetta said, her tone soft. “But honestly, the not being allowed to learn how to cook part sounds amazing.”

I glanced up at her in confusion as Casteel reclaimed the short distance that separated us. His arm pressed to mine as he reached for a sandwich and then remained there.

“I don’t mean the not having a choice part. That sounds terrible. That is terrible.” She took a drink of lemonade. “But if I didn’t have to learn, then I’d have an excuse for why I’m horrible at cooking. Our poor mother spent many moons attempting to teach me how to bake bread. I’d rather sharpen a sword than knead yeast. Of course, Mom excels equally at both.”

“As do I.” Kieran grinned, and his sister rolled her eyes.

“Sounds like you and Poppy have that in common,” Casteel said, wiping his fingers on the napkin. It said something about his relationship with Kieran’s sister that he’d called me that in front of her. “She also has a fondness for sharp, deadly objects.”