“Yeah,” I breathed.
“Good.” Casteel went to the credenza and picked up a slender decanter. “You’re nervous.”
“Is it that obvious?” I asked as he poured.
Replacing the decanter, he picked up the chalice. “You’re about to twist the ends of your hair off.”
Frowning, I glanced down and realized I was twisting the end of my braid. A wry grin tugged at my lips. “Holland told me Seraphena does things with her hands when she’s nervous, too.”
He handed me the chalice. “Did he tell you anything else you have in common?”
I thought about it. “Well, I apparently reminded him of her when I got angry.” My lips pursed. “Not sure that’s a good thing.”
He chuckled and returned to pick up his glass. “Perhaps you get your…feistiness from her.”
“If so, it’s better than getting it from Isbeth.”
“Nothing about you is from Isbeth.”
Except for the shape of my face, my nose, and my lips. How I’d never seen how much I looked like her was beyond me, but I appreciated the sentiment in his partial truth. Beyond shared physical similarities, I was nothing like her.
Casteel eyed me over the rim of his glass. “Want to tell me why you’re so nervous?”
I started to say that I didn’t know but then shook my head. That wasn’t entirely true. “I guess I’m worried she won’t look at me the same.”
He didn’t respond immediately. “Do you feel different?”
“I…” I poked at my fang with my tongue. “Yes, and no.”
His brows rose.
“I mean, I feel like myself, but…I don’t know. Idofeel different, though I can’t explain how.” I let out a self-conscious laugh. “I’m not making sense.”
“You are.”
“Really?” I took a sip from the chalice. “Then can you tell me what I’m feeling?”
“I can’t tell you what you’re feeling,” he said, running a hand over the back of a chair, “but I can tell you that after I completed the Culling, I was myself but wasn’t. My senses were heightened—smell, taste, and sight—and I was stronger and faster. At first,all of that made it seem like the realm had changed in all these little ways. But in reality, what changed was how I interacted with everything. And that made me feel different.”
I nodded slowly. That made sense.
“You have changed,” he continued. “On a cellular level. Just as I did after my Culling and when you Ascended me.”
“I didn’t Ascend you. Not technically.”
“Well, it sounds better than saying you created me.” He walked forward.
I laughed. “True.”
His smile faded when he stopped in front of me. “I don’t want to argue with you. Not like that,” he said, clasping my neck.
There was a difference between what had just happened and our ordinary nitpicking at each other. “Me, neither.”
“Gods, Poppy. I…” He closed his eyes and fell quiet. “I love you. I fucking love you, Poppy.”
“I know.” His words reached right inside my chest, relieving some of the heaviness there—powerful words that meant everything to me. “I love you, Cas.”
Tilting his head, he pressed his lips to mine in a slow, sweet kiss. “That’s all that matters.”
