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Kieran locked up, then took an unsteady step back, his mouth going slack. “Cas…”
There was nothing else for me to say. I turned from him, taking off. She is mine repeated itself as I leapt over the second-floor banister. I hit the ground hard, sending another wave of pain through me. Rising among the falling snow, I scanned the covered courtyard, dragging a hand over my chest. The wound was already closing.
“The woods.” Elijah stood at the keep’s entrance. “She ran into the woods.”
Where did she think she was going, unprotected from the elements and without a weapon? My chin dipped, lips curving into a snarl. Whatever humor I’d found in the situation vanished. Stabbing me was one thing. Risking her life like this was something entirely different.
Poppy was bound and determined to get herself killed.
And perhaps I was, too.
The pain and blood loss sharpened my senses, leaving little room for anything beyond anger. That was dangerous for anyone, but especially an elemental Atlantian.
Crossing the courtyard in the blowing snow, I hit the woods and picked up speed. The snow-dusted branches were a blur as I caught her scent. Veering to the left, I rushed beneath a half-fallen pine.
I noticed a flash of dark red among the world of white and green, and a savage smile split my lips. There she was.
Warning bells rang in a distant part of my head. I’d felt this kind of madness before. I’d lived it. Regretted it. Accepted it. Only once. Decades ago, when I locked eyes with Shea and realized that she’d betrayed my brother. That madness was like standing on the precipice of a cliff, staring down at the fall.
And here I was, on that edge once more.
Like a predator, I made no sound. I gave no warning as I hunted Poppy and caught her with an arm around her waist.
She shrieked as her feet left the ground. I hauled her back against my chest, and the anguish I felt had nothing to do with the pain of the still-healing wound. It was for her. Me. This situation. Us. And the madness I was teetering on the verge of—the kind that erased all that mattered and left no winners. I gripped her chin, forcing her head back with the very hand that had killed so many. Those who had it coming. Those who didn’t. My fingers pressed into Poppy’s jaw just as they had hers.
“An Atlantian, unlike a wolven or an Ascended, can’t be killed by a stab to the heart,” I snarled into her ear. My anger at her reckless flight faded. The disbelief that she’d actually stabbed me vanished. All that was an agony that ran deeper than the physical. “If you wanted to kill me, you should’ve aimed for the head, Princess.” My jaw throbbed. “But worse yet, you forgot.”
“Forgot what?” she gasped.
“That it was real,” I growled.
I began to fall into that madness.
I struck, sinking my fangs into the side of her throat. I felt her entire body jerk against mine as my arm clamped down on her. Hot blood hit my tongue. I didn’t even taste it. I was falling, my mouth sealed to her throat, my fangs still buried deep in her flesh. I knew exactly what it felt like when the fangs remained in. The bite would feel like being burned alive, creating a firestorm of pain. Fragile skin would eventually tear. Her neck wouldn’t be broken by my hands, but Poppy would—
No.
This wasn’t Shea.
This was the Maiden.
The Chosen.
Penellaphe Balfour.
Poppy.
Mine.
Heart thundering, I withdrew as her warm blood splashed over my tongue, coating the inside of my mouth. I started to let her go, but then…
The taste of her hit me in a stunning, unexpected burst of sensation. Sweet. Fresh. Power. My mouth was still fused to her throat, and her blood flowed freely. The pain I’d caused had retreated the moment my fangs left her flesh. Now, my bite would create a wholly different kind of storm within her. In me.
Her taste was lush and rich, utter decadence. Her rapidly building arousal was pure sin. The heat of mine burned as I drank greedily. I groaned, lost in it all as I held her to me, but the taste of her…
Her blood, it was an awakening. There was something about it. Something in it. The inside of my mouth tingled. My skin hummed. There was something in her blood that shouldn’t be there. That couldn’t be. It was a charge of energy. Power. The pain of the wound was nowhere near as fierce.
Good gods.
That could only mean one thing.
She was—
Shock ripped through me. I tore myself away from her in disbelief.
Poppy stumbled, catching herself. She turned to me. I stood there, trembling as I watched blood seeping from my bite.
My chest rose and fell rapidly as she lifted a hand to her throat. She took a step back, and the shock of what I’d discovered faded.
