Home > Books > A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire (Blood and Ash #2)(173)

A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire (Blood and Ash #2)(173)

Author:Jennifer L. Armentrout

I stopped beside him, staring at the springs. It was large, about the size of the Great Hall in Teerman Castle, the edges irregular. Outcroppings of rocks jutted from the frothy water in several places. “How deep is it?”

“It’d probably reach your shoulders through most of it.” He rose fluidly. “It does get a little deeper farther out, near the entrance to another cavern. You’ll see that area is dark, so I would stay away from that if you can’t swim.”

“I used to be able to,” I told him, bending down. Warm water fizzed around my fingers. “But I don’t know if I remember.”

“I can help you remember when we have more time,” he offered, and I tipped my head back to look at him. “We will be expected at dinner tonight, but we still have a little more time to…just be.”

We.

As if we were a unit, a lock and a key.

The night before, I had eaten in my room while Casteel left to do, well, something princely. I wasn’t even sure if he’d eaten when he returned after the sun had set, and he joined me on the terrace. We didn’t speak much then either, and it had been…comforting.

I turned back to the pool. “How much time do we have?”

“About an hour.”

An hour seemed like a lifetime.

“You shouldn’t waste a minute of it,” he said, almost as if he’d read my thoughts. “I’m going to check on the horse. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Looking over my shoulder, I watched as he disappeared into the tunnel, leaving me in privacy to undress.

He was always so…unexpected, his actions and words a constant contradiction. Considerate and then demanding. Teasing endlessly and then cold as looming death. Violent beyond all thought and then unbelievably gentle. I knew I could spend a dozen years by his side and never fully see all his facets—all the masks he wore.

Dragging in the sweetly scented air, I tore my gaze from him and quickly undressed, leaving my clothes and boots in a messy pile. The grass was cool under my feet, and the breeze warm against my skin as I walked forward. Water teased my toes, warm and frothy. I carefully eased down the earthen steps, delighted as the water quickly reach my hips, lapping around my skin as I moved farther out. Heady, pleasant warmth seeped through my skin, into muscles sore from hours of riding. The lush scent of the water soothed my nerves as it fizzed around my breasts, reaching just above them. Stopping in the middle of the pool, I tipped my head back and let out a soft sigh.

In an instant, I knew why Casteel favored this place. With just enough sunlight filtering through the cracks above to see by, the soothing, lulling sound of birds chattering, and the heady fragrance of lilacs climbing the walls, it was a mystical, private hideaway seemingly fashioned from the imagination—a place you could spend a lifetime.

Or at least I felt like I could stay here forever, enjoying all the little bubbles tickling my bare skin as the white-tipped foamy water rinsed away more than the dust from the road. It swept aside the fear of the magic in the mountains and washed away the lingering questions I had about myself, about what had happened when I touched Beckett, about my future, and about him.

I turned, stirring the gently churning water.

Casteel stood at the edge. He’d moved there quietly, so I had no idea how long he’d stood there, or what he saw. There was a hardness to the line of his jaw as he stared at me, and when he spoke, there was a roughness in his voice that hadn’t been there before. I saw hunger I’d mistaken for anger when we stood outside Vonetta’s house. “Do you find the springs to your liking?”

“I do.” I dragged my arms through the water, watching it fizz and bubble in response. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” Lifting my gaze back to him, I reached for the edge of my soaked braid. I began unknotting the plait as he tugged off one boot. “There are springs in Masadonia that Tawny and I snuck off to a time or two, but the water was cold, and we couldn’t stay in long. She would…” I sighed as a twinge of melancholy threatened my peace. “She would love this place.”

“You’re sad. I can hear it in your voice. I’m sorry that you miss her,” he expressed, removing his other boot. The socks followed. “I know how hard it is to be apart from those you care about.”

“You do.” And he did, far more than I did. Hair unbound, I let it lay over my shoulder. “But she is safe for now.”

“For now,” he agreed, reaching behind his head. He gripped the collar of his tunic and pulled it over his head and then down his arms, revealing the broad width of his shoulders first and then the delineated lines of his chest and the trim hardness of his stomach.