The cloth fell away, revealing Callum towering over me. Surprised, I took a step back, bumping into Millicent. The mustiness of the underground tunnels must’ve been strong to hide the sweet scent of decay. He was so close now, I saw a mole beneath the golden face paint, just below his right eye.
Callum smiled as his pale gaze tracked over my features—over the scars. “It must have hurt something terrible.”
“Do you want to find out?” I offered, and that closed-lip smile of his went up a notch. “You will if you continue standing so close to me.”
“Callum.” The Blood Queen spoke from behind us.
The Revenant retreated, bowing slightly. His smile remained, as did his unblinking stare. Holding his gaze for a moment longer, I quickly looked around. I saw nothing but damp stone walls lit by torches.
“Where is he?” I demanded.
“At the end of the hall to your left,” Callum answered.
I started forward.
“Penellaphe,” Isbeth called out, the sound of my name dripping from her lips hitting my nerves like Craven claws against stone. “I promised the safety of your men. How you behave next will determine whether or not that promise is kept.”
Her words…
A chill went down my spine as I slowly turned to her. Guards and Handmaidens surrounded her. Only Millicent stood off to the side, across from Callum. Isbeth’s words were a warning, not just for what she’d do, but what I would soon find.
The Primal essence thrummed just beneath the surface of my skin. A hundred different retorts burned the tip of my tongue, filling my mouth with the smoke of promised violence. But once more, I pulled on all those years of silence—no matter what was said or done. I swallowed the smoke.
“Casteel has never been a…pleasant guest,” she added, her dark eyes glimmering in the firelight. Guest? A guest? “And, unlike his brother, he has never learned how to make a situation easier for himself.”
A burst of acidic anger hit the back of my throat, coming in a sharp, quick punch from Millicent. Not for one second did I believe the emotion stemmed from talk of Casteel. It was the mention of Malik. Her reaction was curious, as was his when we’d been at Oak Ambler. I filed that all away as I turned from the Blood Queen. And I didn’t say anything as I walked forward. If I did, it would end badly.
Each step felt like twenty, and I lost any semblance of calm I might have had as I grew closer and saw the shadow-filled opening curved into the cell wall. My hands repeatedly opened and closed as fear for what I would see—what I would do—crashed into the anticipation and rage within me. This place wasn’t even fit for a Craven, and she had Casteel here?
A sound came from the recesses of the cell. It was rough and low, a snarl that didn’t sound mortal as I hurried through the opening into the dim, candlelit space.
I spotted him then.
And my heart cracked under the weight of what I saw.
Chapter 25
Limp, dark waves fell forward, shielding most of Casteel’s face. All I could see was his mouth—lips peeled back, and fangs bared.
His growl vibrated from a chest that shouldn’t have been so slender. The bones of his shoulders stood out as starkly as the twisted ones chaining him to the wall. Bonds I knew were made of the bones of long-dead deities. They hadn’t been used to keep him chained. They did nothing to him.
The intent was to stop someone like me from breaking them.
Shadowstone shackles encircled his ankles, wrists…and his throat. His throat. His actual, fucking throat. And his skin—good gods, not an inch wasn’t covered in thin, angry, red lines. Nowhere, from his collarbone to his breeches. The cloth along the calf of his right leg had been torn, revealing a jagged wound that looked too much like a Craven bite. The dirtied bandage on his left hand…
Gods.
I’d thought I had prepared myself, but I truly wasn’t ready. Seeing what had been done to him was a horrifying shock.
“Casteel,” I whispered, starting forward.
He launched to his feet, swiping out with curled fingers. I jerked to a stop, narrowly avoiding his reach as the chain at his neck snapped him back. His bare feet, dirty with dried blood, slipped over the damp stone. Somehow, he kept his balance. Fighting the bindings, the chains creaked as he threw his head back.
Oh, gods. His eyes…
I could only see a thin strip of gold.
My gift came alive, spilling out from me in a way that hadn’t happened in a long time. I connected to him, flinching as his emotions swamped me, coming in a dark, gnawing wave of painful hunger.