“They’re not glowing that brightly,” I denied.

“Yeah, they kind of are,” Kieran murmured, and Emil nodded when I looked up.

“Okay. Whatever,” I muttered. My hands were glowing brightly now. “I’ll freak out over that later.”

Beckett’s breathing steadied, and the whites of his eyes became less visible.

“Sweet gods of mercy,” someone murmured.

“Princess?”

“Hmm?” I focused on Beckett. Emotional pain was harder to cut through and whatever release I brought was incredibly short-lived, but physical pain took longer to ease. I believed it had to do with all the important nerves and veins, and physical pain almost always carried an emotional anguish with it, especially if it was as intense as it was for Beckett. Easing his pain was two-fold, but the throbbing was dulling, becoming little more than an ache. He only needed a few more moments.

“Poppy,” Casteel called, and this time, I looked over at him. Sunlight glinted off the curve of his cheek as his gaze swept over me, around me. “You’re glowing. Not just your hands. You.”

Chapter 29

Good gods, I was.

A silvery glow radiated out from under the sleeves of my tunic.

“You look like moonlight,” Casteel whispered, and it wasn’t the sunlight reflecting over his cheek. It was me.

The fur thinned under my fingers, replaced by clammy skin as Beckett shifted into his mortal form. I lifted my hands, rocking back on my rear as Vonetta swept forward, draping a blanket she must’ve grabbed over the boy’s waist. His legs…they were a mottled, angry shade of red and violet, but they were straight and no longer twisted.

Aided by Alastir, Beckett sat up, his pale, sweat-slick face quickly gaining color. Someone was talking. Maybe Casteel asking if he were in pain? Beckett didn’t answer as he stared at me, eyes as wide as saucers.

“Am I still glowing?” My hands weren’t, but maybe my face was? Because it felt like everyone was staring at me.

Casteel shook his head and then looked down at Beckett. “I think…I think you healed his legs.”

“No.” I glanced down at my hands—at my normal, flesh-toned palms. “I can’t do that.”

“But you did,” Casteel insisted.

Beckett still stared at me. So did Alastir. And Emil. And everyone else.

“I can’t,” I repeated.

“Can you move your legs?” Kieran asked, and when Beckett continued to do nothing but stare, the wolven leaned over me and snapped his fingers. “Beckett. Focus. Can you move your legs?”

The young wolven blinked as if he were waking up from a spell. He drew his left leg up, wincing, but then extended it with little trouble. Then he repeated it with the right. “I… I can move them. There’s pain but nothing like before. Thank you.” Astounded eyes met mine. “I don’t know how to repay you. Thank you.” Before I could tell him there was no need for repayment, he twisted at the waist toward the Prince. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s not anyone’s fault. I wasn’t paying attention—”

“It’s all right.” Casteel placed his hand on the boy’s slim shoulder. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re okay, and that’s all that matters.”

“I know.” His eyes glistened as he fought back emotion. “I should’ve—”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Casteel repeated.

Beckett exhaled roughly as he fisted the blanket lying over him. He bent his left leg once more, sucking his lip between his teeth. Maybe his legs hadn’t been as injured as we thought they were.

Casteel rocked back as his gaze flicked from me to Alastir. “You think you can get him to the training fields? You can take one of our horses. I want Talia to look at him.”

Alastir blinked, dragging his gaze from me. “Of course.”

Sliding an arm under Beckett’s shoulders, Emil helped him stand. He took a tentative step while holding the cloak to his midsection, smiling in relief when his legs held his weight.

“Thank you,” Alastir said to me.

I could only nod. “I don’t think he was as badly hurt as we thought.”

“Yes,” Alastir said, but he didn’t sound like he believed me.

Rising then, Casteel turned to the others. “Beckett will be fine. The Healer will take a look at him.”

The people, a mixture of wolven, Atlantian, and mortal nodded, but there was a thickness to the air, and it settled over my skin like a coarse blanket. I didn’t dare look up as Casteel ushered the group away. It was palpable. The crowd’s emotions. Raw and unfettered. I closed my eyes, trembling with the effort it took to keep my senses locked down, but it was no use. I split open, and the whirl of spinning emotions poured into me. Shock. Confusion. Awe. More shock. Something extremely bitter. Fear. Why would anyone fear me?

“Poppy.” Casteel touched my shoulder, jolting me. “Are you all right?”

I opened my eyes, letting out a ragged breath of relief when I noticed that it was just him—him and Kieran and Vonetta. I didn’t dare look too far. If I did, I would never be able to close myself down.

“You really left some pretty big details out when you told me about her,” Vonetta said, and I almost laughed at how annoyed she sounded.

“I…I don’t know how that happened—how I healed him or started glowing.” I craned my neck to look back at Vonetta. “I can relieve people’s pain with my touch, but only temporarily.”

“And you can read emotions,” she said, obviously knowing enough about my bloodline. “You’re an empath.”

I nodded and looked to where Casteel knelt beside me. He was looking over his shoulder to where the others had gone back to the house. “But I’ve never done that before,” I said, and Casteel faced me. “I honestly don’t think he was as badly hurt

as we feared.”

“His legs were completely broken,” Vonetta said. “They were smashed and twisted.”

“I…” I shook my head. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s really not. The empaths could heal.”

“Did they glow?”

“Not that I know of,” Vonetta said. “But they were all gone before I was born.”

“It could be the Culling.” Casteel’s brows knitted as he placed a hand on the grass. “And you’re on land that has been reclaimed as Atlantia. You’re on Atlantian soil. That could impact your abilities.” His eyes met mine. “And it could be my blood. What I’ve given you stays in you.”

I leaned forward, keeping my voice low. “Your blood is making me glow?”

His lips twitched. “I don’t think my blood is the sole reason why you glowed like moonlight.”

“It’s not funny,” I snapped.

“I’m not laughing.”

“You’re trying not to laugh,” I accused. “Don’t even deny it.”

Casteel laughed then, holding up his hands. “It’s just you look…adorably confused, and now you look adorably violent.”

I shook my head at him. “There is something so wrong with you.”

He arched a brow and then looked to where Kieran and Vonetta stood. “Can one of you check on Beckett? See how he’s doing?”

“Of course,” Kieran answered as I pushed to my feet.

“I’ll go with you,” his sister said, giving me a little wave. “I’m going to have so many questions for you later.”

I had many for myself.

I watched them start down the road and then turned to Casteel. Beyond him, I saw that the others had return to repairing the section of the roof that had fallen. “They were scared of me. Not all of them but some. I could feel it.”

Casteel’s lashes were lowered, shielding his eyes as he looked down at me.

“Remember Alastir being concerned about what some of the older Atlantians would think if they realized what bloodline I descended from?”

“I do.” He took my hand, leading me to where his horse remained.

“Do they think I’m—what did he say some called the empaths?”

“Soul Eaters.”

I shuddered at the name, pulling my hand free from his. “Is that what they think I am? That I’m feeding off pain?” Or their fear could’ve stemmed from the fact that I’d literally glowed. I would also be concerned if I saw that. “Did you ever think that when you learned that I could ease the pain of others? That I was this—this Soul Eater thing?”

“Not once.” He turned to me again. “Soul Eaters are practically on par with a lamaea at this point. I didn’t even think you were half-Atlantian then, remember?”

I searched his face, but there was nothing hidden in his expression or his unflinching gaze. “I don’t know how any of that happened,” I admitted as I turned to Teddy, stroking the horse’s side. “Normally, I have to think about something happy to channel that feeling into others. But this time, all it took was for me to place my hands on Beckett. My skin tingled more than normal, and my hands heated, but that was all that was different.”

“When was the last time you used your gift in that way?” He caught a piece of my hair, tucking it back.

“It was…when I healed the people in New Haven. That was the last time.”

“And now you’re technically on Atlantian soil.” He stood beside me, resting his arms on the saddle. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and the dusting of dark hair along his tan forearms seemed scandalous. “I don’t know if it’s that or the Culling, but there could be more changes.”

I really hoped those changes didn’t involve glowing any other colors. “Maybe his legs weren’t even broken—”

“His legs were most definitely broken. You saw them.”