“I thought you might like to see the real Spessa’s End.”
I opened my mouth to ask if he truly trusted me with what I saw, but I managed to stop myself.
His gaze flickered over me. “What?”
“I would like that,” I said instead.
Casteel’s head cocked as he studied me for a moment, almost as if he didn’t believe my answer. “I’m glad to hear that.” He came forward, stopping in front of me. “But there is a caveat.”
“What is that?” I asked as he lifted my arm.
He folded over the edges of the sleeves, forming a cuff. “We continue to pretend.”
My heart skipped a beat. “That you’re just Hawke?”
“And you’re just Poppy.” He rolled up the sleeve, halting just below my elbow. “Want the sleeves higher?”
Knowing that he was asking because of the pale scars on my inner elbows, I nodded.
There was a glimmer of approval in his eyes as he tucked the sleeve so it was above my elbow. “We don’t spend the rest of the afternoon thinking about the past.”
“Or worrying about the future?” I said.
He nodded as he motioned for me to lift my other arm. “We will just be Hawke and Poppy. That’s all.”
I watched him roll up the other sleeve. “No one else will treat you as Hawke. They won’t see me as Poppy.”
His gaze lifted to mine. “No one else matters. Just you and me.”
Another skip of another beat. There was no denying that it would be incredibly ill-advised of me to pretend anymore. It blurred everything, and pretending…well, it didn’t feel like that to me. But there was also no denying that I wanted exactly what he offered.
And since when did something being foolish ever stop me?
Besides, I wanted to see Spessa’s End.
Telling myself that was the main reason, I nodded. “I agree to your conditions.”
The dimple appeared in his right cheek. “So, it’s a deal?”
“Yes.”
“Then we must seal the deal,” he told me. “And do you know how Atlantians seal a deal? They do so with a kiss.”
“Really?” I asked doubtfully. “That sounds incredibly problematic.”
“Perhaps.”
“And it also sounds like a lie.”
Casteel nodded. “It is.”
There was no silencing the laugh. It burst from me. And Casteel—he moved so unbelievably fast. His head dipped, and his mouth was on mine before the laugh even faded. The shock of his lips against mine sent a jolt through me. The kiss was…it was as intoxicating as his bite, as everything about him was. And when his fingers sifted through my hair, guiding my head back, there were no protests to be found. The kiss deepened, and the touch of his fangs, his tongue on mine, sent a hot, tight shudder through me.
“Sorry,” he whispered against my lips. “I know I should’ve asked first, but your laugh… It undoes me, Poppy.” He slid his hands over my cheeks, his fingers not hesitating when they reached the scars. “You’re more than welcome to punch me for it.”
I didn’t want to punch him. I wanted him to kiss me again. A soft breath left me. “I guess the deal is sealed now, isn’t it?”
He gave an audible swallow. “That it is.” Drawing back, he took my hand. “Come. If we spend another moment here, I don’t think we’ll make it from this room.”
My eyes widened. There was no mistaking the seriousness of his words, and another shiver danced across my skin.
Casteel led me out through the terrace and into the courtyard, his hand still firmly around mine. I looked off toward the sun-drenched Rise and squinted. “Are there people on the Rise.”
“There are, and they were also there last night. You just couldn’t see them.”
“Mortal eyesight sucks,” I muttered, and he smirked. “But I thought the Ascended weren’t a threat this far east.”
“They haven’t been, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
Our boots trod softly over the patchy grass and sand. “Alastir said that rebuilding Spessa’s End was your idea.”
“For the most part,” he said, and that was all he said as we neared the stables. I felt the sting of disappointment, but then I reminded myself that today wasn’t about the future. “You up for riding? It’s not that far of a distance to walk, but I’m feeling lazy.”
“I’m fine with either.”
“Perfect. Because I have another idea,” he said. A moment later, an older man strode out of the open door of the tack room. “How are you doing, Coulton?”