Casteel stared at me for so long, I started to grow concerned. But then he said, “You’re not going to ask if you’ll turn into a Craven now? You’re not angry that I gave you my blood?”
“I know I’m not going to turn into a Craven.” I sat up easily and leaned against the headboard. “Did you use compulsion?”
“Not to make you drink. You were surprisingly amicable to that, which caused me to worry all the more,” he told me, and I was suddenly grateful that I had no recollection of that. “Once you started to feel the…effects of my blood, I did use compulsion to help you sleep. I assumed you would appreciate that.”
Considering how I’d reacted the last time, I did appreciate that. I drew a leg up under the blanket. “I’m not mad. I don’t hurt, and I would’ve been in a lot of pain.” I looked at my arm again, still shocked to see nothing more than faint marks. “How often can you give me your blood? I mean, would something happen if you continued to do it?”
“I hope that I don’t have to continue doing so, but nothing would happen if I did.” His lips pursed. “Or at least, I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean by ‘at least’ you think that?”
“Atlantians don’t often share their blood with mortals, not even half-Atlantians.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “In fact, it’s forbidden.”
“Is it because of your bloodline?”
“Our blood doesn’t have much impact beyond its healing and aphrodisiac qualities to mortals. But you’re not completely mortal. I imagine it may strengthen the part of you that is Atlantian, at least temporarily.” He faced me again. “But there is a worry that sharing one’s blood with those who have mortal blood could eventually lead to an Ascension.”
“Oh.” I could see why that would be a concern. “Would you get in trouble if it was discovered?”
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
“But I do,” I blurted out.
An eyebrow raised. “Then you’re worried about me, Princess?”
My skin flushed. “If something happens to you, then that would jeopardize what I want.”
His head tilted as he studied me. A too-long stretch of silence passed. “No one who saw how injured you were either time will ever share that I gave my blood to you.”
That was good to know. “But what would happen?”
He sighed. “Kieran was right. You do ask a lot of questions.”
My eyes narrowed. “Curiosity is a sign of intelligence.”
Casteel smiled at that. “That is what I hear.” The dimple disappeared. “The King and Queen would be unhappy, but since I’m their son, they would probably yell at me, and that’s about it.”
I wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or not.
“I figured you’d be mad,” he admitted.
“How can I be mad when you made sure that I’m not in pain?” I asked, and I truly wasn’t. “It didn’t hurt me. It doesn’t hurt you, right? I’m just glad I don’t have a throbbing headache and…” I looked at the faint marks. “I won’t have yet another scar.”
Two fingers pressed under my chin and lifted my gaze to his. “Your scars are beautiful,” he said, and there was a swift, swelling motion in my chest that couldn’t be deflated no matter what my brain yelled at it. “But I refuse to allow your body to be scarred again.”
My heart started thumping once more. “You say that like you mean it.”
“Because I do.”
I wanted that to be true, and that was enough of a warning. I leaned away from his grasp. “When…when do we leave?”
“Naill is out scouting, making sure there is no unexpected traffic on the western roads. I can’t leave until I am sure that there are no immediate threats to the keep,” he explained, and that made sense. “I hope we will be able to leave by morning or the following day at the latest.”
Nodding, I closed my eyes. When I started to see Lord Chaney’s face, I shifted my thoughts beyond that to what I’d learned before the Ascended arrived. I’d likely discovered what bloodline I descended from—a line of warriors.
The need to get up, to move—to do something—hit me again, but this time, I had a purpose. “Are the injured ones in pain?”
Casteel’s brows knitted. “They’ve been given what we have on hand to ease their pain. Magda left to retrieve more.”