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“What if I say something wrong?”
“You could never say anything wrong, Poppy. And if someone tells you that you did, they’re the one who is wrong.”
“But what if I get asked something I don’t know?”
“I’ve taught you everything I know. There’s nothing you can’t answer. But if you get stuck, I’ll be right by your side to help you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
It was Poppy’s first Grievance Day, the one day a year where a number of Atlantian subjects could have an audience with the King and Queen to air out any issues that occurred in the past year, and open a discussion for proposals or requests. It was an exhausting day usually, and coupled with her level of nerves, Casteel could only imagine the event seemed insurmountable.
Casteel knew without a doubt, however, that Poppy could handle it.
The past few weeks had included many firsts, including Poppy claiming the title of Queen, Casteel as her King, and them living at the palace together. Casteel was enjoying every moment of it by Poppy’s side, but he could appreciate that for her, it was all just overwhelming.
Casteel always did his best to ease that tension from her, using methods he first practiced on her in the Blood Forest. There was no time for that today, however.
Poppy took in a shaky breath, and her expression steeled. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Casteel felt a wave of warmth run through his body as he watched the woman he loved--the light of his life--swallow her fears and project confidence instead. She looked commanding and regal when she slipped into this mentality, like a true Queen. One he gladly bowed down to, time and time again.
Casteel held out a hand to Poppy, which she grabbed and held onto tightly as they made their way to the throne room.
Kieran was waiting outside the doors to the throne room when they arrived. He had a surly expression that said ‘you’re late’. Casteel hadn’t even looked at the time; he didn’t want to make Poppy feel rushed.
“Fashionably late, just like any typical member of royalty.” Kieran commented drily. “I sure hope you don’t mess up in there. They might overthrow you if you say the wrong thing. I’ve seen it happen before.”
Casteel’s eyes slitted at the comment, knowing Kieran was only joking but not wanting Poppy to feel any more nervous than she already did.
To his surprise, Poppy let out a sparkling laugh.
“You know, I thought I saw your sister’s name on the list of approved speakers. Would, I don’t know, banishing your entire family from Atlantia be something worthy of being overthrown?” Poppy replied, sarcasm bleeding into every word.
Kieran rolled his eyes and led them through the doors. “You’re all talk, Poppy.”
“Are you willing to place bets on that?” Poppy raised a brow to that. “To bet against me?”
Something flashed in Kieran’s eyes, something Casteel deigned as respect. A small smile quirked on Kieran’s lips. “Never.”
The throne room was massive, and Casteel watched as Poppy’s eyes took in the elaborate stone pillars and floor-length windows that filtered light onto the red-carpeted ground. She had only been in here once before so far, for her coronation ceremony the previous week. As they approached the throne, Poppy smoothed a hand over her thighs and the fabric of her dark blue dress to steady herself. Casteel squeezed her hand in reassurance.
Advisors flanked either side of the throne, Casteel’s parents among them. Despite the sudden loss of their royal titles, they still demanded to be active and present at all royal processions. Casteel wondered if this was out of support for their son, or a desire to remain in a position of influence.
The throne itself was a work of art; several gold-adorned steps leading up to Poppy’s seat of power, which was swathed in red velvet and had intricate designs whittled into the deep mahogany back. Next to it on the right, several steps down, sat a significantly less detailed throne that was intended for Casteel. Upon first seeing this, Poppy shot a look that said ‘that’s going to change’. Casteel had no qualms with the arrangement, however.
Speaking pleasantries to the advisors and guards, Poppy steadily climbed the few steps to the throne. Casteel pressed a kiss to her hand before she lowered herself to sit, and took his seat next to her.
Kieran stood to their left, and sighed deeply. “Let’s get started. Bring in the first on the list, please.”
Irene Caine. Chosen to speak first today because her request was simple and would help warm Poppy up to the more complicated of cases. Irene sought permission to move her bakery to another sector after having several irreconcilable disputes with her neighbors, and had all the documents to outline her request and plan for moving.
Irene bowed and spoke her request, then passed along her documents to Kieran, who in turn gave them to Poppy. Casteel could see the wheels turning in Poppy’s head, running through a mental checklist he had educated her on just days earlier.
After several minutes of reading, Poppy glanced up from the papers. “Approved.”
Pleased, Irene bowed once more and swiftly left the room.
Casteel glanced over at Poppy, a smile teasing his lips. “See? I told you that you could do this.”
“That wasn’t so bad...” Poppy muttered and bit her lip. “I expect they get more complicated than that?”
“Just a touch.”
Poppy breathed in deeply and cut a look to Kieran. “I’m ready for the next.”
And ready she was.
The day flew by from there, Poppy’s confidence growing with each case she was able to handle on her own. Only once did she look to Casteel for guidance, when a speaker complained about someone who was sneaking into her yard and drinking her horse’s blood every night. Poppy was baffled, and rightfully so.
The room thinned out gradually once the advisors saw that Poppy knew how to handle herself. Casteel’s parents were among the last to leave, citing that they had other business to attend to.
Hours later, there was only one speaker left to be heard. Alistair had requested this speaker be fit in at the very end of the day, and Poppy allowed it, much to Casteel’s dismay. Something about the last minute request felt off, and Alastir hadn’t fully gained Casteel’s trust back just yet.
The speaker turned out to be two men, one who was eerily clothed in a dark cloak that obscured his whole face. The other was a clean-shaven young man with an unremarkable face.
“Welcome,” Poppy greeted, exhaustion lining her tone. “I’m--”
“We know who you are.” The voice came from the hooded man, and Casteel immediately tensed up.
Poppy didn’t let her tiredness dull her senses--her shoulders tightened as well as she took in the dark undertone of the man’s voice.
“What brings you before us today?” Poppy questioned.
The hood shifted, and Casteel caught a glimpse of the face underneath. Gnarled, uneven skin flashed into view, almost like scars--
“We have a message for you.” The young man finally spoke. His tone was flat and lifeless.
Suddenly, the hooded figure jumped into motion. A flash of silver was all Casteel needed to see before lunging from his seat. Casteel was squarely in front of Poppy before Kieran had even budged.
And thank the gods that he was--or else the dagger now plunged in Casteel’s abdomen would have been seated deep in Poppy’s throat.
Searing pain flashed through Casteel, and he felt Poppy’s arms around him, catching him as he fell backwards into her. Her voice was full of concern and Casteel had to take a moment to comprehend what was going on.
The two men standing before them were no longer alone. All around the room, figures were emerging from the shadows. Ugly, scarred men with a variety of weapons strapped to them. It was easy to tell what they were: mercenaries.
Who would be stupid enough to hire mercaneries to kill the Queen of Atlantia in her own palace? Casteel mused as he tore the dagger from his chest.
Poppy was still behind him--well, underneath him, really--his blood inevitably soaking her gown. He turned to ensure she was unharmed, meeting her eyes briefly.
“Are you okay?” Casteel said with urgency.
“Me?” Poppy choked. “You’re the one who just got stabbed.”
Casteel scoffed. “A minor inconvenience. But I will make him pay for ruining my shirt.”
With that, Casteel spun around and latched his eyes onto the once-hooded man. He was now uncloaked and his scars, undoubtedly accumulated from years as a killer-for-hire, were on display. He had already unsheathed another weapon and was lunged, ready to pounce on Casteel.
Casteel spared a brief glance to where Kieran was, now in Wolven form, chomping down on several of the assassins. Good.
“You made a mistake, mercenary. Do you know what that mistake was?” Casteel drawled and circled the man.
“My only fault was not coating that dagger with poison. But I won’t make it twice.” The man replied, and flung out what appeared to be several shuriken blades.
Poison. Casteel had to assume these were coated with something, and moved deftly to avoid their sting.
In Casteel’s periphery, he could see Poppy locked in her own battle. He knew she could handle herself, but his instincts told him to finish up quickly so he could be by her side and protect her.
Casteel lunged and caught the assassin’s hands in a hold behind his back, twisted them in a way that would surely break something.
A short shout from Poppy grabbed Casteel’s attention, but by the time he looked her way, she was already slashing the throat of her opponent. Her wild eyes met Casteel’s. She was covered in blood, her expression feral. A small cut marred her forehead, and blood leaked from the wound.
“Your mistake,” Casteel growled. “Was attacking my wife.”
Casteel maintained eye contact with Poppy as he plunged the knife into the mercenary’s heart. Poppy was short of breath and filthy, but Casteel swore he had never seen someone so striking, so unmatched in breadth of beauty.
Tossing the mercenary’s corpse on the ground, Casteel was immediately at Poppy’s side, taking her in his arms. While he felt a wave of relief at feeling her strong pulse against his chest, his eyes still darted around the room to assess the situation. From the looks of it, most of the mercenaries had already been taken care of by the surrounding wolven.
A wet choke caught Casteels attention. Casteel’s ears narrowed in on the sound and, with Poppy in tow, found the young man who had pretended to be an innocent citizen only moments ago propped up against the wall. A deep slash painted his gut, and blood poured from the corners of his mouth.
Casteel bent down to meet his eyes. “Who sent you?”
A sputter of noise came from the young man’s throat as he attempted to speak. “We were--”
But the blood filled his airway before he could finish his sentence. Casteel watched grimly as the life quickly drained from his eyes.
Sighing, Casteel drew away from the ground where he lay. Kieran was tearing apart the last of the mercenaries, and many of the wolven had shifted back to their human form and were looking to Poppy to ensure she was safe.
Casteel smelt, rather than saw, the embarrassment rolling off of her. Bloodshed and pain didn’t make Poppy bat an eye, but throw some naked men in her line of view?
As silence fell over the throne room, Casteel turned to meet Poppy’s bewildered gaze. Her face was flushed, making her scars more prominent. Casteel wanted nothing more than to press his lips to those scars, leaving love in a place where there was once such pain.
“Are you alright?” Casteel murmured, his body seeking to feel the heat of her own against him. He advanced, and Poppy retreated until her back met the wall.
“Yes,” She breathed. “I’m fine.”
As always when he was near Poppy, indecent thoughts flashed through his mind. He needed her, he always needed her. An attack on her life was an attack on his own, on his heart. But it had failed and she was standing before him, breathing hard and beautiful.
“Kieran?” Casteel called out, eyes remaining trained on Poppy.
“Present.” Kieran replied in a light tone that suggested he was on a pleasant evening stroll, rather than having just torn several limbs from their host.
“Please clear the bodies from the room. I need a moment alone with Poppy.”
Kieran knew Casteel well enough to understand the unspoken meaning in those words. Rolling his eyes, Kieran barked orders to the other wolven, and within seconds the corpses were being taken out of the room.
Casteel cut a look at Kieran. “Look through their pockets before you burn the bodies. We still don’t know who sent them. Also, go find out where the hell Alastir is. He’s the reason those two were in the palace in the first place. I’ll rip his throat out if I find he’s the one who paid for that attack.”
“I’ll sort it out. Try not to take too long… talking in here. Your father will want to speak with you later, I’m sure.”
“Noted.” Casteel mused, but his focus was no longer on Kieran. He was far too distracted by the shape of Poppy’s lips and where they parted as she tried to control her breathing. “Lock the door before you leave.” he added with half a thought.
Soon, they were alone.
Casteel brought his head down close to her own, and Poppy’s head tilted upward as if expecting a kiss. Instead, Casteel’s tongue met her forehead, tracing a slow line to capture the blood coming from her sole wound. Her blood tasted rich, and ignited a fire within him. Poppy’s eyes closed as his mouth lapped at the wound, sapping out any remaining blood.
“Cas, I told you that I’m fine--” Poppy began, but her words were cut short as Casteel gripped her throat with surprising force.
A low gasp escaped her lips at the intimate gesture, but Poppy made no attempt to move. She was watching Casteel with wide eyes, holding her breath to see what he would do next.
While his grip was firm on her neck, his other hand caressed her face, feeling for any other sign of injuries. Casteel slowly moved on to assessing the rest of her body. First, it was her scalp. One hand pushing gently through her hair, searching for irregularities. The hand at Poppy’s throat loosened, travelling down to her shoulders, her back, her hips, her stomach… on and on they went.
While Casteel’s hands moved almost clinically, his eyes contained all the emotions he was feeling. Terror at the realization of how close he had been to losing her, utter relief that she was whole and safe. The emotions barreled through him without mercy.
“I need to see that you were fine for myself. I lost sight of you for one too many seconds, and not knowing how you were doing… it terrified me.”
Poppy let out a breathy laugh. “‘See’ for yourself?”
Casteel blinked. “What?”
“You said you needed to ‘see’ for yourself that I was okay. But all you did was touch me. How can you see that I’m alright,” Poppy’s eyes glinted with mischief. “With all these clothes on?”
Gods, Casteel thought. I will never, even if I live a thousand more years, deserve this woman.
Casteel’s lips crashing onto hers was an inevitability. As was the joining of their bodies, clothes still slick with Casteel’s blood. Poppy met every advance Casteel made with equal fervor.
It was not long before they were both gasping for air, foreheads pressed together intimately. Poppy leaned back against the wall suggestively, pushing down one of the too-thin straps of her dress.
Casteel placed his hand on hers to stop her from undressing further. Confusion lit Poppy’s expression.
“Is it wrong that I find you covered in my blood,” Casteel touched his thumb to the soaked front of her dress before bringing it up to trace her bottom lip. “... incredibly sexy?”
Casteel leaned down to press his lips to Poppy’s, tongue tracing the edge of her lips to lick the blood smeared there.
Poppy smiled deviantly. “Fine, I’ll keep the dress on. But I don’t want to do this against the wall.”
“Where else, then? The floor?” Casteel snorted.
Poppy didn’t reply, but her eyes trailed off to a spot over casteels shoulder. Following her gaze, Casteel immediately understood what she had in mind.
The throne.
Casteel could hardly comprehend how this woman, whom he had once assumed to be pure and innocent with her title as the Maiden, could be so damn filthy. And he loved every impossible inch of her.
“As you wish.” Casteel grinned, sweeping Poppy up in his arms and carrying her over to the throne.
Poppy’s laughter was enough to forget about the attack on her life only mere moments ago. He would do anything to make her laugh like that for the rest of his days.
Casteel placed her back on her feet in front of the throne, and then turned to take a seat in the throne. “I want to look at you. Come here.”
Casteel intended for her to sit sideways in his lap, but Poppy had other ideas. Hiking up the light material of her gown, she placed her knees on either side of his legs and sank against his body with a force that elicited a groan from Casteels lips.
“You feel so fucking good, Poppy. You have no idea.” He squeezed her hips.
A giggle passed her lips. “I think I have an idea.” She reached a hand between them and squeezed the hardness that laid there.
Casteel brought his lips close to hers and murmured against them. “Take it out. Look at what touching you for mere seconds does to me.”
Poppy complied, and he savored the moment of obedience. There was nothing more Casteel loved more than Poppy’s fire, defiance, and fight. But when she made the choice to listen to him ask something of her… well, that was an entirely different game. Casteel could outright explode in his pants when Poppy chose to be submissive.
When Poppy’s hand touched his sensitive skin, he could not stifle his moan. It reverberated off the throne room walls.
Her hand moved up and down his hard shaft, picking up the slickness leaking from his tip and spreading it about her hand. Poppy’s grip flipped between hard and softer, and within minutes Casteel felt like he was close to the edge.
With great effort, Casteel forced thoughts into his head to detract from the building pleasure Poppy was creating. He focused on Poppy now, slipping a strap of her dress down to expose her bare breast. The sight of her naked--even partially--never failed to make him short of breath, and this moment was no exception.
Casteel brought his mouth down to her nipple and began softly lapping at the soft skin there. The feeling distracted Poppy enough that she released him and gripped his shoulder instead.
Mouth still latched onto her, Casteel brushed his hand gently over her other nipple over the fabric of her dress, and then squeezed hard. Poppy moaned just like he knew she would. She always enjoyed a little bit of pain mixed with her pleasure.
Casteel kept this pace for several minutes, bouncing between hard squeezes and long, loving licks on either breast. He could all but feel Poppy’s wetness through his breeches as she ground herself onto his thigh, hips rocking back and forth to hit her most sensitive spots.
“That’s it, Poppy,” Casteel murmured against her chest. “Use me to make yourself feel good. Come all over my thigh like I know you want to.”
His words lit the fire in her anew, her hips driving harder, faster, and with more purpose than before. Casteel didn’t dare to stop sucking hard on her nipples, to stop running his hands over her body.
It wasn’t long before Poppy reached her tipping point, falling over the ledge with a collection of breathy moans that rang again and again in Casteel’s ears. He held her tightly as the last spasms of pleasure rang through her.
Casteel needed to taste her, needed to be inside her, simply…. needed her. But when he tried to pick her up to switch their positions, Poppy pushed his shoulders back down into the seat.
“Sit.” She ordered and Casteel, to his surprise, obeyed.
Poppy slid off his lap, and Casteel immediately missed her warmth. But any objections died at his lips as he followed her movements as she slid onto the floor in front of him, situating herself on her knees and between his legs.
Her mouth was on him before he could utter a word. Warm, wet lips sucking hard on his tip. Poppy had only done this once before and she had used that experience to become a quick expert.
Bolts of pleasure wracked through Casteel’s body not only at the feeling of her tongue moving back and forth on the underside of his tip, but also the sight of her before him. She was half-dressed in her blood stained gown, and her still-wet breasts were left exposed to the air. She was intoxicating. Her head moved up and down with increased speed, humming deeply as she struggled to keep her breath steady.
Poppy then did something that nearly caused Casteel to explode inside her mouth instantly; she looked up into his eyes. The vision of her looking directly at him, lips wrapped tightly around his cock, was too much.
“Poppy,” Casteel begged and pulled on her hair to end her movement. He didn’t want to finish yet, not while Poppy needed so much more than one orgasm from his thigh.
While he fought to catch his breath and regain control of his body, Poppy moved back on top of him, sliding her gown up even higher than before to expose her wetness to him. The smell of her was sinful, and Casteel wanted nothing more than to devour every drop that came from her.
“Get up. I want you to sit down on the throne so I can take care of you.” Casteel whispered.
“I AM sitting on my throne.” Poppy replied, and without another word, seated herself deeply on his cock.
They moaned in unison. Casteel gripped her ass under the gown, holding her down where she lay, memorizing the feeling of her tightness wrapped around him.
“Gods, I love your ass.” Casteel dug his nails into the soft skin there, slowly lifting and dropping her body onto his hard length. Poppy’s moans became raspy.
Casteel continued, knowing the words did things to her that his physical touch couldn’t quite reach. “And I love your breasts.” Casteel latched his mouth onto her nipple, swirling his tongue on the hard peak until Poppy let out another moan.
Sliding a hand down, Casteel deftly found the small bundle of nerves that would undoubtedly finish her. He applied a combination of pressure and circular motion he knew she loved. Casteel could feel the telltale signs of her orgasm nearing. He knew she only needed one more line to get her there.
“But most of all, I love the way you tighten around me while you come on my c--”
Mid-way through his sentence, Poppy was there. Spasms pulsated through her body, and she buried her face into the crook of Casteel’s neck to stifle her moans.
But something had cut him off from finishing his thought--and that was a harsh pounding at the door.
“Cas? We need to talk about the mercenary attack. Are you in there?” Called Casteel’s father, voice muffled by the door.
Startled and in a mid-orgasm haze, Poppy weakly tried to push her dress straps back on her shoulders and move off Casteel’s lap. But Casteel kept a firm grip on her hips, and nuzzled his mouth on her throat. He felt the hot pulse of blood beneath her skin.
“I’m not done with you yet.” Casteel whispered hoarsely. “Don’t make a fucking sound.”
And then Casteel sank his teeth into Poppy’s soft skin, and folded a hand over her mouth. Casteel could feel her sharp intake of breath in his palm at the sudden pain, but her body slacked into his arms just like Casteel knew it would. Sucking gently at the site, Casteel continued to pump into her and lose himself in the slickness.
“Cas? Is everything okay--” An unintelligible voice cut off his father’s.
“Oh, Kieran. There you are. Do you know where Cas is?” Casteel could only vaguely make out the words outside the door at this point.
“Ah, yes. You see, he and Poppy had to step out for a moment…” The voices faded as they retreated from the door.
No longer constrained with needing to be silent, Casteel took one last sip of Poppy’s blood before running his tongue over the wounds to cease the bleeding. His thrusting did not slow in all this time, and he knew he could explode at any moment.
He removed his hand from Poppy’s mouth and immediately she began gasping “Cas, Cas, Cas” as if his name was a fishing line connecting her to reality. His name on her lips while she rode him was beyond sexy; it was erotic to the point where Casteel lost all bodily autonomy.
Pushing deep inside one last time, Casteel found his release. He clung to Poppy tightly as the waves of pleasure washed over him. Poppy and Casteel stayed in that very position, unwilling to put even an inch of distance between their bodies, for several more minutes.
It was Poppy who found her voice first. “You have blood on your mouth.”
Casteel gently pressed their lips together and then pulled away to gaze at her. “Now so do you.”
A grin snuck onto Poppy’s face. Her tongue languidly ran over her bottom lip to clean the blood that was stained there.
“I love you, Poppy.” Casteel sighed with satisfaction.
“I love you, Cas.”
“And I love myself.” A cheery voice outside the door cut in. “C’mon, you two. Back to reality. We have work to do, and I can only entertain your father for so long before I lose my mind, Cas.”
Casteel met Poppy’s eyes and they sighed. Back to reality indeed...