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Smiling, Kieran shook his head as Casteel urged Setti to the side of the road, slowing him so that Emil and Vonetta rode past us. The wolven following at our side did the same as Casteel drew up to where Reaver remained in the back of the wagon. Malik and Naill rode on the other side.

“What?” Reaver asked.

“I have no idea,” I said.

“Got a question for you,” Casteel started, letting go of my wrist.

“Great,” Reaver muttered.

Casteel was unfazed by the less-than-eager response. “Do Primals have fangs?”

My eyes went wide.

Reaver scowled. “To answer that random-as-hell question, yes. How do you think they feed?”

The other dimple graced us with an appearance as Casteel tilted his chin down. “That’s why I think your jaw’s been hurting.”

I couldn’t say anything for a full minute. “You…you think I’m getting fangs?” I asked.

Casteel nodded. “We don’t get ours until we’re about to complete the Culling. Our mouths will hurt on and off and bleed. It’s like teething.”

“Why am I not surprised you haven’t realized that yet?” Reaver muttered, giving us his back.

I was going to have…fangs?

Holy shit.

Immediately, I lifted my hand, and Casteel caught my wrist once more with a chuckle. “Don’t mess with your mouth, Poppy.”

How could I not? I was growing fangs! I ran my tongue over my gums, feeling nothing strange there. Sugary amusement filtered through from Casteel, but that wasn’t the only thing I felt as he rejoined Kieran. A spicy, smoky flavor gathered in my throat, too.

My neck craned back as my eyes snapped to his. “You’re excited about this, aren’t you?”

“Hell, yes, I am.” He lowered his head to mine, his voice low when he said, “I cannot wait to feel your fangs on my skin.”

Warmth crept into my face. “Cas—”

“On lots of places,” he added.

“Fucking gods,” Kieran muttered.

Casteel laughed as he brushed his lips over mine. He then explained what he thought I could expect, changing the subject to something a bit more appropriate. The fangs would come in, pushing out the other teeth, which was really gross to think about. But he said they descended once they broke through. None of that sounded like fun.

“It really isn’t,” Kieran said when I voiced exactly that. “Cas was a fucking whiny baby that day.”

“Yeah, well, when you have two teeth being pushed out, let me know how that feels,” Casteel shot back.

Thoughts of my teeth occupied my mind for the remainder of the journey, and there was a good chance those thoughts would also haunt my dreams. It wasn’t that I was disturbed by the idea of having fangs. They would actually make feeding easier, but it would be different.

Further proof of how much I’d changed.

And was still changing.

Chapter 43

Upon returning to Padonia, Malec was placed in the stables, which was, well, it seemed wrong somehow, but where else would we be able to place him? No one would want a casket containing a god in the Great Hall.

I’d placed Isbeth’s ring back in the pouch, along with the wooden horse. I really needed to give that back to Casteel, but as I sat on the edge of the bed after bathing, wearing nothing more than a gauzy, knee-length chemise I’d found in the wardrobe, I wasn’t thinking about Malec, the ring or the horse. I’d decided there was no point in dressing any further since… Well, since I would only have to undress.

My stomach tumbled a bit. The faint ache had returned to my jaw and temple while I spent time with Tawny, but it had mostly disappeared while bathing. I didn’t know if the headache had to do with the Culling and me getting fangs as Reaver had said or what was to come.

The Joining.

I couldn’t let my mind wander too far down that path. Not because I was uncertain or afraid. But because I knew if I did think too much about it, I would only work myself into an anxious mess.

No one needed that.

I’d managed to doze off while Casteel bathed, and it had been strange to wake without Kieran there, curled against my hip.

Casteel came out of the bathing chamber, dressed in his breeches. “You and those silly straps again,” he said, a dimple appearing as he tugged on one of the thin straps. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

He arched a brow.

I laughed softly. “I’m feeling okay. Only because I’m trying not to think about the fact that we have an entombed god in our stables.”

“Yeah, I think everyone is trying not to think about that.” He sat beside me.

The breath I took was shallow. “Where is Kieran?”

A slight grin reappeared. “He’s waiting for us.”

My stomach took another tumble. “Okay.”

Thick lashes lifted, and golden eyes met mine. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “I do. You?”

“Of course.” He drew the strap up my shoulder.