“My eyes…they feel the same,” I offered up, truly having no idea what to say.

One side of his lips quirked. “And they’re still the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”

I turned to him, looking up. “None of this bothers you? My heritage? Whatever it is that I am?”

His half-grin faded. “We had this conversation when we talked about Malec.”

“Yes, we did, but…but when you met me, I was the Maiden. You thought I was mortal, and then you learned I was half-Atlantian. But now you know I’m descended from a god, and you don’t even really know what I am,” I pointed out. “My gifts aren’t even the same. I’m changing.”

“So?”

“So?”

“When you met me, you thought I was a mortal guard who’d sworn an oath to protect you. But then you learned I was an Atlantian and that I was the Prince,” he countered. “Did any of that change how you saw me?”

At first it had, but… “No. It didn’t.”

“Then why is it so hard for you to believe that it changes nothing for me? You are still Poppy.” He touched my cheek. “No matter how much more you change, you are still her in your heart.”

I glanced back at the mirror, seeing a familiar face that was also unfamiliar in the smallest ways. I felt like myself in my heart…and I hoped that didn’t change.

Chapter 16

“Come,” Casteel repeated, taking my hand. “Let me look at you.”

“I told you, I’m okay.”

He led me away from the mirror and back into the bedchamber. “And I told you to stop saying that when I know you aren’t.”

“I don’t even feel those bruises you mentioned,” I said as he placed me by the side of the bed.

His ocher gaze flicked to mine. “I know there are wounds that aren’t visible to the eye, and I wish you would stop trying to hide them from me.”

I snapped my mouth shut.

“I think there is a lot we need to talk about. He reached for the hem of my tunic, lifting it. “But there’s something really important we need to talk about before we discuss anything else.” He motioned for me to lift my arms, and I did so. Air flowed over my bare arms as I watched him toss the top aside. The plain slip I wore was so much thinner and better suited for the climate, but its tiny straps and the near-sheer, cinched bodice hid very little.

He drew a finger along the strap as he eyed it, slipping it under the flimsy material. “These silly, tiny straps…” The tips of his fangs dragged across his lower lip.

“Is that what you want to talk about?” My skin tingled as he ran his finger along the bodice of the slip, over the swell of my flesh. The peaks of my breasts tightened and hardened as his gaze returned to mine.