Something had happened to Poppy.
The inexplicable knowing only increased with each passing minute and hour. Had she escaped? Had she fallen ill despite me cleaning her wound? Had someone harmed her?
If anyone had touched an inch of her skin, they would die. No matter who they were. Their life was already over.
When the pines began to thin, I knew I was close. Slowing Setti and the other horse, I leapt from the saddle and hit the ground running. I darted through the trees, flying over rocks and thick branches littering the slick, snow-covered ground. My boots slipped several times, but I didn’t slow. Some sort of primal instinct warned me there was no time to waste.
The faded gray stone of Haven Keep appeared through the pines, and I dug in, pulling on every bit of elemental strength I had in me. I burst from the tree line, racing across the courtyard—past the anxious, pacing wolven, past blurred faces. I only slowed when I spotted Naill running out of the keep’s doors.
“Where is she?” I demanded.
His eyes were wide—wider than I’d ever seen them, the whites stark against his skin. “Kieran took her upstairs, to your chambers.”
I spun, heading for the entrance to the stairs. “How bad?”
Naill was just a step behind me. “It’s…it’s bad.”
My chest hollowed as I wrenched open the door, and the scent of her blood hit me. “Those responsible?”
“The ones that still live are in the cells,” Naill answered as I rushed the steps. “We tried to stop them, but we were fucking outnumbered. She fought back, and she…fuck, she saved Delano’s life down there. I swear to the gods she did. And I don’t even know why.”
Neither did I. I shoved open the door and hit the outdoor hall of the second floor. The scent of her blood was even stronger. “I want them kept alive. They are mine to deal with.”
“Understood.”
“I left Setti and Kieran’s horse in the woods,” I told him. “There are Craven—”
“I’ll get them.” Naill turned, grasping the railing as he leapt onto it. He crouched. “Cas, I’m…I’m sorry. We failed you.”
“No, you didn’t,” I growled as the chamber door swung open, and Elijah appeared. “It was I who failed.”
Hands clenching, I stalked past the noticeably subdued Elijah and came to a complete stop.
Kieran was by the crackling fire, cradling Poppy in his lap. He had a hand pressed against her stomach. Red seeped through his fingers and splattered the floor. And Poppy…her eyes were closed, her skin far too pale. For a moment, I thought she—oh, fuck, I thought she was already gone. But then I saw the dagger clenched in her hand.
Kieran’s head lifted, his features somber. “Cas…”
I knew that look.
I heard the finality in his voice.
I refused to acknowledge either as I strode forward, unclasping my cloak and letting it fall to the floor. Aware of Elijah closing the door, I tugged off my gloves, tossing them aside. I reached for her as Kieran rose and took her in my arms.
She made no sound. Did nothing as I turned, my heart thundering. I could feel how chilled her skin had grown beneath her clothing. I inhaled sharply at the fresh, jagged tears across her arm and beneath her shoulder. A wolven had clawed her.
Sickened, I brought her to the floor beside the fire, shifting her so she rested on her side. Kieran followed silently, once more placing his hand on the wound—one far too close to her heart.
“Open your eyes, Poppy. Come on.” I pried the dagger loose from her grip, letting it fall to the floor. The fact that she clung to it like that fucking cut me up. My hand shook as I took hold of her chin. “I need you to open your eyes.”
I dragged in a ragged breath as her blood continued pumping between Kieran’s fingers. It was bad. The wound was deep, and no one here could fix it with some balm and a bandage. She was… Fucking gods, she was going to—no, I would not allow it.
“Please,” I demanded—begged, really.
The skin around her eyes pinched. Those thick lashes fluttered, then lifted.
“There you are.” I forced a smile because I didn’t want her to be scared. I didn’t want her to see what I knew. I didn’t want her to have this memory to add to her other terrible ones because she would survive this. I knew that the moment I heard the wolven howling.
“It hurts,” she rasped.
“I know.” Shuddering, I held her gaze. “I’m going to fix it. I’ll make the pain go away. I’ll make it all go away. You won’t carry one more scar.”
Her chest moved with a shallow breath. “I’m… I’m dying.”
“No, you’re not,” I snarled, terror crashing into fear. “You cannot die. I will not allow it.”
There was no hesitation. No second thoughts as I lifted my wrist to my mouth and bit down deep. Poppy cried out, and Kieran jerked his hand away from her wound, stumbling back a step as my blood touched my tongue. I tore my flesh open.
I saw a brief look of concern flash across her face.
“I’m going to die an imbecile,” Poppy whispered.
Lifting my wrist, I frowned. “You’re not going to die, and I’m fine. I just need you to drink.”
Kieran had gone rigid. “Casteel, do you—?”
“I know exactly what I’m doing, and I don’t want your opinion or your advice.” Blood trailed down my arm. “And I don’t require either.”
He got the message and stayed silent.
Poppy did not, however. She tried to pull away. “No,” she rasped. “No.”
I held her against me. “You have to. You’ll die if you don’t.”
“I’d rather…die than turn into a monster,” she swore.
“A monster?” I laughed at the absurdity. “Poppy, I already told you the truth about the Craven. This will only make you better.”
She turned her head from me.
The hollowness in my chest spread. “You will do this. You will drink. You will live. Make that choice, Princess.” My voice thickened. “Do not force me to make it for you.”
She shook her head weakly, still struggling to free herself.
Fuck, there was no time to argue with her, to try to convince her of what she didn’t believe. I’d given her a choice. She’d given me none.
“Penellaphe.” I spoke her name as I summoned the eather from deep within. It flowed through my veins and filled my voice with the power of the gods. “Look at me.”
Slowly, her gaze met mine. Her lips parted.
“Drink,” I commanded, pushing hard with the compulsion as I brought my wrist to her mouth. “Drink from me.”
A drop of blood fell from my arm to her lips. It slipped between them, and she jerked slightly. I pressed my wrist to her mouth. My blood seeped in, coating her tongue, coursing down her throat, but I held my breath and waited.
Poppy swallowed.
“That’s it,” I rasped. “Drink.”
Those green eyes locked onto mine as she drank, drawing my blood into her. She didn’t look away as she swallowed again and again, even after I eased up on the compulsion, letting her go. She drank from me on her own, the repulsion of doing so passing the moment she tasted my blood. It wouldn’t be like she expected.