Had he? Truly? “I am fine,” I said, surprised by how level my voice sounded. “But you? You’re not.”

His head cocked to the side. “I am more than well, Poppy. It is not I who has been taken by the Dark One and held hostage—”

“I am not a hostage,” I interrupted as a red-hot arrow of anger pierced me. I latched on to it, as it was far better than the rising grief. “I am here with my husband, Prince Casteel.”

“Husband?” Ian’s voice roughened, but the inflection was forced. It had to be. The Ascended may be prone to extreme emotion like anger or lust, but concern? Sympathy? No. He stepped forward. “If this is a farce, I—”

A rumble of warning came from my right as Kieran inched forward. Ian halted, his eyes widening on the fawn-colored wolven. “Good gods,” he exclaimed, and he really did sound surprised…maybe even awed. “They really are huge.”

Kieran’s lips peeled back in a snarl as his body tensed. I focused on him, opening that cord—our connection. It’s okay.

I feared Kieran couldn’t hear me and would launch himself at Ian, but the growling faded.

“My wife is here of her own free will,” Casteel spoke then, his tone losing its hint of boredom. “And while I entertained this meeting, I will not tolerate insinuations regarding the legitimacy of our marriage.”

“Of course, not.” Ian’s dark stare slid its way to the Prince. There was a hardness to his features that had never been there before. “What does Atlantia truly hope to gain by taking my sister?”

A wave of awareness curled down my spine as the knight to Ian’s left turned his head toward him. I was surprised that he didn’t refer to me as all the Ascended did. As the Maiden. A tiny spark of hope returned.

“Atlantia has many things to gain from it,” Casteel responded. “But I have gained everything from the union.”

Ian stared at him, his brows knitted. He then looked at me, tentatively taking several steps forward. The wolven allowed it. “Am I supposed to believe you willingly married the monster responsible for our parents’ deaths?”

“I happily married the Prince, who you and I both know had nothing to do with our parents’ deaths.”

Ian shook his head, his brows raised. “I can only imagine what you have been told that led you to stand beside the enemy—those responsible for such terror and pain. I will not hold it against you,” he said. “Neither will the Crown. The Queen and King are so very worried about you, and we had so much hope that we would free you in the Wastelands.”

“I do not need to be freed.” Wrapping myself around the anger I felt, I smirked. “I’m sure they’re very concerned to have lost their blood bag.”

“Poppy, that’s not—”

“Don’t,” I interrupted him, sliding my hand free from Casteel’s. “I know the truth about the Ascended. I know how the Craven are made, and I know why they are holding Prince Malik and what they planned to use me for. So, let’s not pretend that I don’t know the truth. That you don’t. The Blood Crown is the root of the evil plaguing the people of Solis. They are the oppressors, not the heroes.”