Bloodlust.
He’d fallen into bloodlust. I knew in that moment that he had no idea who I was. All he sensed was my blood. Possibly even the Primal essence in that blood. I wasn’t his Queen. His friend or wife. I wasn’t his heartmate. I was nothing but food. But what cut deep and to the quick was that I knew he had no idea who he was.
My chest rose and fell rapidly as I tried to catch my breath. I wanted to scream. To cry.
Most of all, I wanted to burn the realm.
Those nearly black eyes darted to the opening, his growl growing louder, deeper.
“I wouldn’t stand too close to him,” Callum advised. “He’s like a rabid animal.”
My head jerked to the Revenant. Millicent stood behind him. “I will make sure you die,” I promised. “And it will hurt.”
“You know,” he drawled, leaning against the stone as he crossed his arms and jerked his chin toward Casteel, “he said the same thing.”
“Then I’ll make sure he has the pleasure of witnessing it.”
Callum chuckled. “So giving of you.”
“You have no idea.” I turned from him before I discovered how a Revenant survived decapitation.
Casteel was still staring at the Revenant. His focus had zeroed in on Callum, even though I was much closer to him. The way he fixated on the Revenant gave me hope that he wasn’t completely lost.
That he was still in there, and I could reach him—remind him of who he was. Stop him before he became a thing instead of a person.
I sprang forward, clasping his arm. He swung his head to me, hissing. His skin was hot—too hot. And dry. Feverish. I stepped into him.
“Shit,” Millicent exclaimed from the hall.
Casteel was like a viper. He went straight for my throat. But I’d expected the move and caught him by the chin, holding his head back. The rough, short hairs on his jaw felt strange against my palm. He had lost some of his body mass, and I was strong, but his hunger gave him the strength of ten gods. My arm shook as I tapped into the essence, letting my gift roar to the surface.
Silvery-white light sparked across my vision and from my hands, washing over skin that shouldn’t be so dull and hot. I channeled every happy memory I could into the touch—memories of us in the cavern. When we stopped pretending. Us on our knees before Jasper, our rings clasped in our hands. The way he’d looked at me in that blue gown in Saion’s Cove. How he’d taken me in that garden, up against the wall. I funneled the energy into him, praying that healing his physical wounds would ease some of the pain of hunger, calming him enough for him to remember who he was. It would hopefully be a temporary fix, at least. Easing the knife’s edge of hunger so he could feed without doing real and painful damage. Because he would now if I let him. And that would hurt him. It would kill a part of him.
A spasm ran through Casteel’s body. He went painfully rigid for a heartbeat, no longer pushing against my touch. Then he jerked away so fast, he completely broke free of my hold. I stumbled, nearly falling as he pressed back against the wall. The silvery glow faded from my hands, from him as he stood there, head bowed and chest heaving. The numerous, impossible-to-count cuts down his arms, across his chest, and on his stomach had faded to faint, pink marks. The candlelight didn’t reach his lower body, and I couldn’t see the wound on his leg now, but I imagined that it too had begun to heal. His hand, though… My abilities couldn’t fix that.
Seconds stretched with the only sounds his ragged breathing and a muted, steady thump from above. Carriage wheels?
“Cas?”
He shuddered—his entire body and the chains moving. He lifted his head, and I saw that his face…it, too, was thinner. Like it had been in that first dream. The shadow of hair along his jaw and chin had darkened. Deeper hollows had formed under his cheeks and eyes.
But his eyes…they opened, and they were still that stunning shade of gold. “Poppy.”
Casteel
She stood before me, a bright flame that had beaten back the red haze of bloodlust. She was here. Real.
My Queen.
My soul.
My savior.
Poppy.
This was no dream. Not a hallucination like the ones that had plagued me in the last hours and days. Poppy had said that she would come for me, and now she was here.
I pushed off the wall. The bone chains rattled, pulling tautly. The band tightened around my throat, but Poppy was already moving. Before I could take my next breath, she was in my arms. Somehow, I ended up on my ass, but she was still in my arms. Warm. Solid. Soft. Holding me tightly. Pressing her cheek against mine. I was filthy. I must stink. The floor of the cell was rank. None of that stopped her from pressing a quick kiss to my cheek, brow, and the bridge of my nose.