My chest squeezed as my gaze lifted to his, my mind flipping to the promise I’d made him swear to. “And what if neither he nor I stay level?”
“Then I guess I’ll have my hands full.”
“Kieran.” I sighed. “You’re not our…”
“Nanny?” he suggested.
My lips flattened.
“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I’ve always thought that.” His steady gaze held mine. “But he won’t do anything to jeopardize you, and him losing control would do just that.”
“I’m not worried about him losing control,” I argued.
Kieran raised a brow as he leaned back again and took a drink.
“Okay. Maybe just a little,” I admitted, thinking about what the Fates had said. “But only because I know how hard it can be to control the essence.”
Kieran nodded, falling quiet for several moments before shaking his head. “Of all the birds,” he muttered, unease filling his voice. “It had to beravens.” He dragged a hand over hischest. “My people see them as an omen—well, not so much any longer. But the eldest of the wolven? They did. It’s because of what they represent to the gods.” His gaze lowered to his glass. “Ravens serve as a warning,” he said. “Of death and destruction.”
About an hour or so later, awareness throbbed in my chest, alerting me to Casteel’s presence before he returned.
I hopped up from the settee. Ignoring Kieran’s raised brow, I placed my glass on the table and darted into the main chamber.
Casteel strode into the room, flipping a switch on the wall. Warm, buttery light spilled through the space as I skidded to a halt. The sight of him never failed to make my breath catch.
“There you are,” he said, the light of the chandelier glinting off his cheekbone, as he made his way toward me. His steps slowed, and his eyes heated to a warm honey as he swept his gaze over me. He drew his lower lip in, flashing a hint of a fang. “Poppy,” he spoke, his voice dropping low.
Sharp swirls of tight, hot tingles twisted through me at how he purred my name. “What?”
His gaze slowly moved up to mine. “You know what.”
“I…” I looked down as he came forward.
“The shirt.” He stopped in front of me, dipping his head so his lips brushed my ear. “There’s only one thing more arousing than seeing you wearing my clothing.” He pressed a kiss to my pulse, then whispered, “And that’s you naked and spread open for me.”
My breath stalled for the second time in a matter of seconds.
His deep, smoky laugh sent a thrill dancing down my spine.
“I didn’t mean to be gone so long,” he said, stepping back as he ran his fingers over his baldric, finding the hook.
“It’s okay. Kieran was keeping me company.” I looked up at him, immediately seeing that his features weren’t as stark, and the hue of his lips had deepened. The hair at his temples and nape was also slightly damp. “You fed.”
Unstrapping the sword, he turned and stepped onto the dais. “I did.”
“On Emil?”
“Unfortunately,” he drawled, laying the still-harnessed sword over the back of a chair. “I’m beginning to think he actually likes it.”
I snorted. “How long before you can feed from me?”
“At least a couple of weeks,” he said. “Possibly longer.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Someone sounds jealous,” Casteel murmured, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he faced me. “But I likely won’t need to feed more than once between now and then.”
I groaned, hating that I couldn’t give him what he needed.
