Without taking her eyes off me, Clariza lowered herself to one knee. She placed one hand over her heart and the other, which held the dagger, she pressed to the floor. Her husband followed suit.
“From blood and ash,” she said, bowing her head.
“We will rise,” Blaz finished.
I shuddered. Those words echoed through me, the meaning so very different from when I’d first heard them.
“That’s not necessary. I’m not your Queen,” I said, glancing at Casteel’s shrouded form. “We’re just in need of space. A private place where I can help my husband.”
Malik’s head cut sharply in my direction but he said nothing.
“You may not be our Queen now,” Clariza said, her head lifting, “but you are a god.”
“I am.” I swallowed thickly, worry pressing down on me. “But you still do not need to bow before me.”
“Not what I expected to hear from an actual god,” Blaz mumbled. “But I’m not going to complain.” He reached over, taking his wife’s hand so they rose together. “Whatever you need.”
“A chamber?” Malik suggested. “With a sturdy door.” He paused. “And walls. Just in case.”
Clariza frowned.
“We have a bedchamber that Riza’s mother once used.” Blaz pivoted and started walking. “Not sure about how sturdy the walls or door are, but they’re standing.”
We followed, passing what appeared to be an entryway to a sitting chamber and then another closed door. Blaz opened the rounded door to the left on the opposite side of the hall.
“He’s been starved, hasn’t he?” Clariza asked as her husband hurried into the chamber, lighting a gas lamp on a small end table.
My gaze snapped to her as Malik carried Casteel to the narrow bed. The chains clanged together as he laid him down, drawing Blaz’s attention.
“My great-great-grandmother was Atlantian,” Clariza explained. “My grandmother used to tell me what happened when her mother couldn’t easily find another Atlantian to feed from. From what I remember, it didn’t sound like many walls or doors are strong enough.”
I had a lot of questions about why her family had chosen to remain and not head for Atlantia, but those questions would have to wait as I went to the other side of the bed. Malik pulled the cloak off.
“Fucking gods.” Blaz’s gasp turned into a wheeze. “Sorry. That was probably offensive. I am deeply regretful.”
“It’s okay.” My heart ached anew as I took in Casteel’s too-pale skin and the grisly wound.
“Shit,” Malik cursed, and my gaze flew to Casteel’s face. The dark slash of brows had furrowed. I saw tension creeping into the stark lines of his features.
“You should all leave,” Kieran advised, coming forward as Malik took hold of the chains. He lifted them from Casteel’s chest. “He’s about to wake.”
Chapter 31
Clariza grasped her husband’s arm and had already begun backing toward the door. “I’ll get some food ready and heat up some fresh water. He’ll need both.”
“Thank you.” I forced a smile, flicking a glance at Reaver.
The draken sensed my will. He turned to the mortals. “I’ll help.”
In other words, he would keep an eye on them. They may be Descenters and currently planning to launch some sort of attack on Wayfair, but that didn’t mean I trusted them with Casteel’s life.
“Sure. You can tell us where you’re from while helping,” I heard Clariza say as she stepped into the hall. “Like exactly how far east you come from.”
That would’ve normally been an odd thing to say, except for the fact that Reaver hailed from the farthest-east place one could get.
“You’ve got a lot of things you need to be sharing after you’re done in here.” Blaz pointed at Malik as he paused at the doorway. “A lot of things.”
The door closed on that. I looked over at Malik. “Do they know who you are?”
“No,” he said. “They don’t.”
Casteel’s eyes opened then, the irises pitch-black. I wasn’t prepared to see that again. My heart splintered even more, but there was no time to dwell on it.
He came off the bed, lashing out like a cornered pit viper. I jumped back, hitting the wall. His fingers grazed the front of my shirt as Malik curled the chains around his forearm, grunting as he hauled Casteel back. Cursing, Malik tried to get his brother back onto the bed, but Casteel was incredibly strong in this state.
“Malik can feed him,” Kieran bit out as Casteel let out a low howl. “I’ll take the chains.”
“No.” I pushed off the wall. Kieran’s gaze shot to me. “I have a whole lot more eather in me. Wouldn’t my blood bring him out of bloodlust much faster?”
Kieran didn’t answer.
Malik did. “It’s unlikely that my blood will do much for him at this point,” he said, his jaw clenching as he dug in his heels. “We both know that. She’s a god. Her blood is the best choice.”
Kieran’s worry filled my throat like too-thick cream—his concern for me and for Casteel. “I can heal him first. I just need to touch him. That should calm him.”