From Blood & Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,210
brass tub in the bathing chamber with steaming hot water, and another placed a fresh pair of black breeches and a tunic on the bed.
A part of me was surprised that he’d brought me back here and not to the cells. I wasn’t sure what that meant or if it should matter if it did mean something.
My thoughts still reeling from everything, I didn’t know anything at the moment, and he hadn’t answered any of the questions I’d asked on the way back. Say, for example, was Atlantia still an actual place?
Because as far as I knew, it had been all but leveled during the war.
Then again, everything I thought I knew was turning out to be false.
I rubbed my hand over my cheek as I glanced at Kieran. “Does Atlantia still exist?”
If my random question caught him off guard, he didn’t show it. “Why would it not?”
“I was told that the Wastelands—”
“Were once Atlantia?” he cut in. “They were once an outpost, but that land was never the entirety of the kingdom.”
“So, Atlantia still exists?”
“Have you ever been beyond the Skotos Mountains?”
The corners of my lips turned down. “Do you always answer a question with a question?”
“Do I?”
I shot him a droll look.
A faint grin appeared and then slipped away.
“No one has been beyond the Skotos Mountains,” I told him. “It’s just more mountains.”
“Mountains that stretch so far and wide that the very tops are lost to the deepest mist? That part is true, but the mountains don’t go on forever, Penellaphe, and the mist there may not contain Craven, but it’s also not natural,” he said, and a shiver danced over my shoulders. “The mist is a protection.”
“How?”
“It’s so thick, you just don’t see anything. You think you see everything.” A strange light filled his pale blue eyes. “The mist that blankets the Skotos Mountains is there so anyone who dares pass through will want to turn back.”
“And those who don’t turn back?”
“They don’t make it through.”
“Because...because Atlantia is beyond the Skotos?” I asked.
“What do you think?”
What I thought was that talking to Kieran was an exercise in patience and energy, two things I was running low on.
“Are you going to bathe yourself?” he asked.
I wanted to. My skin was not just dirty, it was also chilled, and I was still wearing his bloodied shirt.
But I also wanted to be difficult because I was so freaking confused by everything, and as he had warned, I was tired. “What if I don’t?”
“That’s your choice,” he replied. “But you smell of Casteel.”
I jolted at the sound of his name. His real name. “I am wearing his shirt.”
“That’s not the kind of smell I’m talking about.”
It took a minute for me to get what he was referencing. When I did, my mouth dropped open. “You can smell…?”
Kieran’s smile could only be described as wolfish.
“I’m going to bathe.”
He chuckled.
“Shut up,” I snapped, gathering up the new clothing and hurrying into the bathing room. I closed the door behind me, annoyed when I saw there was no lock.
Cursing under my breath, I looked around and found several hooks on the wall. I hung the tunic and breeches there. I quickly stripped and stepped into the bath, ignoring the twinge of pain in a very private area as I sank into the lavender-scented water. I didn’t allow myself to think about anything as I got down to scrubbing off my blood and…and his. My stomach turned over as I used the bar of soap to wash my hair. When suds ran down the back of my neck, I dipped under the water and held myself there.
I stayed until my lungs and throat burned, and white spots sparked behind my closed eyes. Only then did I break the surface, gasping for air.
What was I going to do about him? About everything?
A strangled, hoarse-sounding laugh escaped me. I didn’t know where to even begin to start figuring out this mess. I’d just learned that the kingdom of Atlantia still existed, and that seemed like the least crazy thing to have discovered. Gods, I still didn’t even understand how I’d gone from learning who he truly was, stabbing him in the heart, to then willingly falling into his arms.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I dragged my hands down my face. I couldn’t blame the bite, even though it had some kind of arousing effect, just like his blood had. And who, by the way, would’ve ever thought that would feel good?