The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

hedge around hundreds and hundreds of delicate whitepetaled
flowers.
“This garden is beautiful,” I said, starting toward one of
the fragile white blossoms.
“I really don’t give a fuck about the garden.” Casteel
stopped me, pulling me into a shadow-heavy alcove.
My eyes widened, but before I could respond, he turned,
pressing me back against the stone wall. In the dim lights,
his eyes were a luminous, churning honey color. “You know,
don’t you?” Casteel folded his hand behind my head as he
leaned into me. Against my stomach, I could feel the hard,
thick length of him as he brushed his lips across my temple.
“What you did back there?”
Soaking up his lush, piney scent and his warmth, I let
my eyes drift shut as I clutched his sides, swords and all. “I
healed her.”
He kissed my cheek, right along the scar, and then drew
back. His eyes met mine, and I swore a fine tremor coursed
through his body. “You know that’s not what you did,” he
said. “You brought that girl back to life.”
The breath I took seized in my throat as I opened my
eyes. “That’s not possible.”
“It shouldn’t be,” he agreed, sliding a hand over my
bare arm and then across my chest. A curl low in my
stomach made itself known as his palm grazed my breast.
“Not for a mortal. Not for an Atlantian, or even a deity.” His
hand slipped over my hip and then my thigh. I could feel the
heat of his palm through the dress as he skimmed past the
wolven dagger. “Only a god can do that—only one god.”
“Nyktos.” I bit down on my lip as his fingers gathered
the material of the gown in a fist. “I’m not Nyktos.”
“No shit,” he said against my mouth.
“Your language is inappropriate,” I told him.
He laughed darkly. “You going to deny what you did?”
“No,” I whispered, my heart skipping. “I don’t
understand how, and I don’t know if her soul had truly