Page 82
Surprise shuttled through me. “But he had numerous affairs, right? And didn’t you say it was rumored that he and Isbeth were heartmates?”
Casteel nodded as he twisted a strand of my hair between his fingers. “I think Malec was in love with being in love, and he was constantly chasing that feeling instead of nourishing what he already had.” He dragged his thumb over the hair he held. “If the rumor of Malec and Isbeth being heartmates is true, it could’ve been the first time he stopped searching and paid attention to what was in front of him.”
My brows knitted. “All of that sounds incredibly sad and also hopeful. I mean, that if your mother did love Malec, she was still able to find love again. To open herself like that once more. I don’t know…” I held the journal close to my chest. “I don’t know if I could do that.”
“I would never give you a reason to, Poppy.”
My heart melted in my chest and then froze. But what if I was immortal? It seemed utterly incomprehensible to think that I would outlive Casteel, but we really had no idea what I had Ascended into. And while it would take several lifetimes for Casteel to begin even showing signs of aging, he would. And I…I didn’t want to think about spending my future without him, no matter how much of one we shared together. There were the heartmate trials, but the gods slept. There was also the Joining, but I had no idea if that worked in the opposite direction, linking his lifespan to mine.
And I didn’t even know why I was thinking about any of this when we had no idea what I was or what kind of lifespan I would even have. What had Casteel told me once before?
Don’t borrow from tomorrow’s problems?
I needed to start living that way.
“But when Malik and I went to the caverns,” he continued, thankfully unaware of where my thoughts had gone, “we were able to pretend as if none of the conversations happened. The heaviness and sadness didn’t follow us there. Nothing outside of that place existed.”
“But you were young boys then.”
“That doesn’t matter. The feeling still remains, some hundred years later,” he said, and my stomach dipped at the reminder of how old he was—how old I would one day become. “This bed—this room—can become our version of the caverns. When we’re in here, nothing outside it matters. This will be our peace. We deserve that, don’t we?”
My breath caught, and I nodded. “We do.”
His gaze softened as he slid his thumb across my bottom lip. “I wish we could stay in here forever.”
I smiled faintly. “I do, too.”
But we wouldn’t—we couldn’t. Because a moment later, a knock sounded on the door. I rolled off him, standing.
Casteel sighed as he rose, too. He stopped to drop a kiss on my cheek. “Be right back.”
A moment later, I heard Kieran’s voice. Placing the journal on the nightstand, I roamed into the bathing chamber, quickly taking care of my personal needs but not bothering to do much with my hair. I checked my eyes in the mirror before I left, finding that they still had the silvery-white sheen behind the pupils. My stomach took a small tumble at the sight, but I reminded myself that I was still the same.
Mostly.
Casteel was entering the bedchamber when I returned, carrying a fresh platter of food and a new bottle of what appeared to be some sort of sweet wine. One look at the hard line of his jaw, and I immediately knew that whatever news Kieran had brought wasn’t good. I sat on the bed. “What happened?”
“Nothing major.”
“Really?” I watched him come to me.
“Yeah. It’s just my father. He apparently decided to change his mind when it came to waiting for us to come to him. He wants to talk with me.”
I relaxed as he popped the cork and poured a glass of wine. “Then you should talk to him. He’s probably just concerned.”
“Does it make me a bad son if I say I don’t care?” He handed the glass to me.
A wry grin formed as I pulled my legs up, crossing them. I took a sip. The wine tasted of sugared berries. “A little.”
“Oh well.”
I tipped toward him. “I know that you do care, though. You love your parents. You haven’t seen them in the gods know how long, and you haven’t had a chance to talk to either of them under any normal circumstances. Go talk to your father, Cas. I’m fine.”
“Cas.” He bit down on his bottom lip as he planted his fists on the bed and bent over. “I’ve changed my mind about you calling me that.”
“You have?” I lowered my glass.
He nodded as he leaned in, brushing his lips across mine. “Because hearing you say it makes me want to get my mouth between your thighs again, and that need is quite distracting.”
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