“Shut up.”
“She wants you to be comfortable when you return home, her blooded granddaughter—” Her eyes widened as she caught sight of my hand. “What is that?” The Duchess scrambled forward, clasping my left wrist. “The imprint.” She stared at the golden swirl across my palm. “You’re married.”
I pulled my hand free as she rocked backward, laughing.
“You’re married? To the Prince of Atlantia?” Pitch-black eyes lifted to mine as a wide smile broke out across her face, revealing the fangs of both her upper and lower jaw. “If I’d known, none of this would’ve been necessary. You. Born of flesh and fire. The Queen will be so thrilled to learn you’ve done what she could never accomplish. Seized Atlantia right out from under them, under her. Our Queen will be so proud of—”
“Shut up,” I snarled, thrusting the bloodstone blade deep into her chest.
Duchess Teerman’s eyes widened only a fraction in surprise. I met her stare, holding the dagger there until the cracks formed in her skin, until the light went out of her eyes and her body caved in around the blade of the wolven bone and bloodstone dagger.
And just like an Ascended, I felt nothing but a sudden iciness as I watched Duchess Teerman turn to ash.
I turned.
Casteel stood outside the door, the lines and angles of his features sharp in the moonlight. “You beat me to her.”
“I did.”
A long moment passed. “Did she say anything to you?”
“No.” I swallowed thickly. “She said nothing.”
“Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Are you?”
He said nothing as the sounds of battle grew fainter, and I tentatively opened my senses. His emotions ran the gambit, a swirling storm that was hard for even me to make sense of.
“No one comes near this carriage,” he said, speaking to whoever was beyond the opening. He hoisted himself up into the conveyance. The ceiling was just high enough for him to stand. “I’m very conflicted right now.”
“You are?”
He nodded as the door swung closed behind him. “I’m furious with you for threatening your own life. For even thinking that was a suitable option.”
“What else could I do?” I demanded, lowering the dagger. “They were—”
“I’m not done yet, Princess.”
My brows flew up. “Do I look like I care if you’re done?”
A shadow of a smile appeared in the dim glow. “I’m livid that you would do something like that.”
“Well, I’m annoyed that you don’t seem to realize that, at that moment, we were out of options,” I snapped.
“Still not done,” he said.
“Guess what? I don’t care.”
His eyes deepened to a heated honey. “I’m furious, and yet, at the same time, I’m in awe. Because I know you would’ve done it. You would’ve killed yourself to save the lives of those who still stood. You would’ve done it to save me.”
Backing up as he came forward, I stepped on the cloak and whatever else the Duchess had been wearing. “You don’t sound like you’re in awe.”
“That’s because I don’t want to be awed by something so incredibly reckless.” His chin dipped, and his voice deepened. “And that’s because I need you.”
A sudden hot flush chased away the coldness stirring inside me.
“I need to feel your lips on mine.” He planted his hands on the carriage wall, caging me in. “I need to feel your breath in my lungs. I need to feel your life inside me. I just need you. It’s an ache. This need. Can I have you? All of you?”
I didn’t know who moved first. If it was him or me or both of us. It didn’t matter. We came together, the kiss just as wild as the one under the catapult, and it said everything that words couldn’t communicate at the moment. We kissed as if we hadn’t expected to have the luxury to do it again. And for far too many minutes, I knew we both believed that.
We’d been on the cusp of either being separated or killed, and that kiss…and what came next in that shadowy carriage was proof of how rattled we both were by the knowledge that we could’ve lost each other just as we’d truly found one another.
And it was more than that which allowed me not to care where we were, what I’d done in here and what was happening outside these thin walls, when he slipped the dagger from my hand, sheathing it on my thigh. Or when he turned and lifted me, placing me on my knees on the cushioned bench as he tugged the leggings and undergarments to my knees. What allowed me not to care was what the Duchess had said before I killed her, the utter coldness and emptiness I’d felt as I watched her die, and the haunting intuition that there had been some truth to her words.