An open book? Unlikely. “What plans does your father have?”
Casteel leaned into the cream-hued settee, looking impossibly at ease. “My father has many plans, Poppy.” His gaze drifted over my face. In the back of my mind, I realized that he hadn’t once called me Poppy while in front of Alastir. “But if they include you, those plans will swiftly become nothing but figments of the imagination.”
“It sounded like I was what made your activities fruitful.”
“Don’t worry about my father,” Casteel said, lifting his hand from my hip. He drew his thumb across my lower lip, causing an unwanted flutter in my chest. “He has bigger concerns right now than you.”
My eyes narrowed as I caught his wrist. “Like the lack of land issue?” I pulled his hand away.
His eyes deepened to a warm amber. “I’m sure that is taking up much of his time, but he won’t risk damaging his relationship with me to take any action against you.”
I wanted to believe that. Getting back to Ian depended on me staying alive and in one piece. Being a part of the King’s plan probably wouldn’t bode well for me remaining whole and hearty.
Especially given that the scheme probably included sending me back to the capital of Solis in pieces.
“I think you forgot to tell me something,” I told him.
His brows rose. “I’m going to need more detail than that.”
“Why? Because there’s a lot of things you haven’t told me?”
“A man must have his secrets. Isn’t that part of the allure?”
Struggling for patience, I tried to count to ten. I made it to three. “Your secrets are the exact opposite of alluring. If there was an anti-allure potion, it would be exactly that.”
“Damn,” he murmured, eyes gleaming.
“Are you expected to become King upon your return?” I demanded. “Is that what’s expected of you?”
The amusement faded from his eyes. “One of them. A King and Queen can only rule Atlantia for four hundred years. It’s designed that way so change can occur. If a child of theirs doesn’t assume the throne, then anyone can come forward and challenge for it. My parents’ reign has extended beyond the timeframe. And because they don’t believe Malik will return, they feel it is time for me to take on the role.”
“Has anyone challenged the throne?”
“As far as I know, no.”
But how would he know since he hadn’t been home in years? “Did you not think it would be a good idea to tell me?”
“Not particularly.”
“Oh, my gods,” I started.
“Mainly because I knew it would freak you out,” he added.
“Like right now,” Kieran murmured.
“No one asked for your two cents,” I snapped, and the wolven chuckled. I turned my glare back on Casteel. “Whether or not it would freak me out, I needed to know that—”
“It changes nothing,” he cut in. “Just because my parents believe it is time for me to take the throne doesn’t mean I have to or will. They cannot force me. My brother is the true heir to the Atlantian throne. Not me. And he will take his seat once I free him.”
Pressing my lips together, I glanced at Kieran to gauge his reaction to what Casteel had said, but he stared straight ahead, his expression unreadable. I doubted my senses would tell me anything more, but I knew that Casteel fully intended to save his brother. He didn’t want to be King, even if it was past the time for a new one to be crowned. With that said, becoming Queen was not something I had to worry about. I started to stand.
Casteel’s arm tightened. “Where are you going? I was so very comfortable with you in my lap.”
“I’m sure you were, but there’s no audience.”
“What about me?” Kieran asked. “I’m still here.”
“You don’t count.”
“Ouch,” he murmured.
“But we’re not in private, Princess. Wasn’t that the deal you made? In public, you wouldn’t fight me?”
My eyes narrowed. “There is no one else in this room. The doors are closed, and the deal we made didn’t include sitting in your lap.”
“I know.” He sucked his plump lower lip between his teeth, exposing the edges of his fangs. “But I really enjoy it.”
Muscles curled low in my stomach, and I really didn’t care for how my body responded to his heated stare, and the glimpse of those fangs. It answered with a heady flush that I could only hope wasn’t as visible as it felt. It also called forth a sharp, intense throbbing that settled in an area that made me want to squeeze my legs together. And I really hated the knowledge that he knew exactly how I responded to him. I let go of his wrist. “I don’t care if you enjoy it.”