I was currently being highly inappropriate as my gaze drifted down their hips, to where both were…well, no less scandalous than I.
I knew that Casteel was pleased with every inch of my body—the hips that some might find too full, the thighs that might be too thick, the belly too soft, and the scars that marked me. But it was clear that neither found what they saw displeasing. Or maybe it had nothing to do with what they saw or how I looked. Perhaps it only had to do with what they felt. What we shared. Either way, they were…
Good gods.
“Always so curious,” Casteel murmured.
My gaze flew up, my face heating.
One side of Casteel’s lips curled upward, and I saw the hint of a dimple appearing in his right cheek.
“Shut up,” I rasped.
He chuckled, but when his eyes touched mine again, they asked an unspoken question.
I swallowed, hoping it would calm my heart as a breeze rippled through the glen. It didn’t, but my voice was there. “I’m ready.”
Both seemed to draw in the same breath and then, together, they came to me.
Chapter 44
My legs felt a little loose as a cyclone of sensations whipped through me, so fast and so ever-changing I could only make sense of a few of them. Nervousness crashed into curiosity and gave way to uncertainty, which a sharp wave of anticipation that had nothing and everything to do with what might or might not happen then swept aside. It was the entire ritual. The whole act of joining our essences together. Would we feel different afterwards? Would things change, no matter if we ended at blood being exchanged or went beyond that?
With blade in hand, Casteel stopped a hairsbreadth in front of me as Kieran came to stand behind me. Neither of them touched me, but their proximity already warmed my night-kissed skin.
As I stood there, I was reminded of Spessa's End, when Kieran had been there when Casteel needed to feed. This was a lot like then.
Except we were all naked as the day we were born.
If I had thought it would be easier to ignore our nudity when I wasn’t able to see all the naughty bits, I’d been wrong. I seemed all the more aware of it now.
Casteel’s gaze flicked up and behind me. He nodded, and then Kieran’s chest touched mine. My breath caught at the feel of him, the skin that always ran hot—of the sudden feel of him against my lower back as he adjusted his stance.
“Sorry,” Kieran said in a voice rough and thick that tickled the back of my shoulder. “It’s just that you’re beautiful, and I’m, well…” He trailed off, and I’d never heard him so thoroughly rattled. “I’m trying to behave…appropriately.”
“It’s okay,” I told him, swallowing to ease the dryness in my throat as I made sure my senses were locked down. The last thing I needed was to connect with whatever Kieran may be feeling. That wouldn’t aid in anyone behaving. “Your…er, physical response is only natural,” I added, my face flaming.
Just as the shivery awareness of Kieran that centered on every part of our bodies that touched was just a natural reaction.
Casteel’s grin spread until that infuriating dimple in his left cheek became visible, and his stare turned downright wicked.
Kieran and I were attempting to behave appropriately. Apparently, Casteel wasn’t. He bit his lower lip, revealing a hint of fang.
His lack of behaving appropriately didn’t come as a shock.
At all.
Kieran sighed heavily. “No help whatsoever, man.”
Laughing under his breath, Casteel’s stare found and held mine. “You’ll drink first,” he reminded me in a soft voice. His stare held mine. “From my chest first, and then from Kieran’s throat. We’ll each drink from each other after you. Then, we will both drink from your throat. We will need to be in constant contact with each other once you start drinking and then through the whole thing.”
Feeling my cheeks heat even more, I nodded as I stopped my imagination from running wild. He’d explained all of this. Because a wolven could not take in blood like an Atlantian, a blade was used to draw the essence from the Atlantian, and the mark was made near the heart at the center of the chest, roughly where I felt the eather throbbing restlessly in mine. Blood was taken from the wolven’s throat because they were a conduit of sorts, the bridge designed to link the lifespan of the Atlantian to their mate. But in our case, to link his with ours—theirs with mine. Blood was then drawn at the same time from the strongest one—the one who would hold both life forces.
Me.
Casteel’s gaze still fastened on to mine, he brushed his fingers over the curve of my cheek. “You need to speak the words I told you,” he instructed softly.