Blade's Destiny (Ishtar's Legacy Book 3)

by Lisa Blackwood

  He didn’t want that.

  He just didn’t want to be her Blade. She didn’t need to know that, though.

  “Here, I’ll scrub your back if you scrub mine,” Asharru offered as she waded closer, a jar of soap in one hand and a soft cloth in the other.

  “The future queen of New Sumer shouldn’t be scrubbing backs.”

  She snorted. “Oh, just turn around. No one need know.”

  Shrugging, he turned, presenting his back.

  Asharru worked the rag along his back for several moments before she continued, “You seem very disturbed by the thought of being a Blade. I would never take advantage of that sacred bond.”

  “I know. That’s not what I was mulling over.” He grinned as he looked over his shoulder, turning on the charm. It was a defensive tactic, but it usually worked wonders to distract his target from something he didn’t want them knowing. “I was actually thinking what we’d do if I am a Blade and have been crippled. Your blood might not even be able to penetrate the scar tissue. The mark is completely gone if it was ever there in the first place.”

  “It’s a possibility. But we must still try.” She looked up from her scrubbing to meet his eyes. “Later tonight after I’ve seen to the body of Diimeritia, we will see what happens when a bit of blood is applied to your skin. I’d do it now, but I don’t think there would be time before the servants return to help me dress.”

  He nodded his agreement and then took the soapy cloth from her and motioned for her to turn around. Scrubbing her back, he mused how much his life had changed in a few days.

  What would it be like in a moon cycle, three, ten, a year from now?

  He didn’t know, couldn’t even imagine it.

  His hand came to a halt, and Asharru stepped away from him.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she nodded at him. “Thank you for hearing me out. And for trusting me. If you are a Blade, I will treat you with the utmost respect.”

  “Thank you.”

  She nodded and then started up the stairs cut into the side of the bathing pool. His gaze tracked her every small move, unable to look away even if he’d wanted to.

  Goddess, she was lovely. Body, mind, and soul.

  As he followed her from the pool, he couldn’t help but think that if he’d never been a slave, he’d likely have traded his freedom away to the gods without a second thought. Especially if Asharru was the reward he’d get in return.

  But he’d been a slave.

  If given a choice, he wouldn’t become one again.

  Chapter 17

  The feeling that Tirigan was dreading what they’d find still haunted Asharru even after the long night spent preparing Diimeritia’s body for the funeral and praying for her soul’s safe journey into the afterlife.

  At last, the first rituals were complete and she, Tirigan, Bashaa, and Laliya—the three had offered to join her in chanting and prayers—made their weary way back to her chambers as the moon sank lower in the night sky.

  Kuri had doubled the guard, and Asharru now felt hemmed in and trapped by the press of bodies but understood the need. That didn’t mean she had to like it.

  Though Tirigan was different. While he stayed close, she didn’t find his presence smothering or irritating.

  If she’d had a choice, she would have made straight toward her bed—lack of sleep was becoming a chronic condition—but the need to know if Tirigan was her Blade wouldn’t let her rest until she had her answer.

  Great Goddess Ishtar, please let him be a Blade. I don’t even care if he isn’t my Blade. And if you’d intended him for my brother, surely you won’t mind if he becomes mine instead?

  The goddess did not respond. Though in the past Asharru had heard the whisper of her goddess’ wisdom while deep in prayer at the temple back on Uruk.

  She hoped the goddess’ silence was only because Asharru was restless and conflicted.

  “I can almost taste your exhaustion, Crown Princess.”

  Tirigan’s soft words drew her gaze toward him. Seeing the worry in his eyes, she dredged up a smile for him. “It’s nothing a bit of rest won’t cure.”

  He still looked unhappy. “Perhaps we should wait until after you’ve rested before we try what we talked of earlier.”

  His words were very tempting.

  But if he were an unanointed Blade, then he’d be vulnerable until his mark regenerated and he underwent the first three Blooding Ceremonies. Every moment they waited to find out, increased the likelihood another attack would come.

  “No. We’ll do that as soon as we get back. My schedule had been cleared because of the funeral. I won’t have to attend court today. I can sleep for a few hours before I’m needed again.”

  “As you wish.” He returned to scanning the hallway ahead and behind for dangers.

  None presented themselves, and Asharru reached her chambers without incident.

  The servants were already there with a warm meal for everyone and another bath and fresh changes of clothing for herself, Tirigan, Bashaa, and Laliya.

  Since she hadn’t informed her servants who the three newcomers were, the servants had started their own rumors and speculation. The latest Asharru had heard was that Tirigan, Bashaa, and Laliya were some of her temple brethren from Uruk.

  Asharru didn’t correct the rumor. After all, that’s what she wanted everyone to think.

  When the servants came forward to tell her the bath was ready, she waved them off and told Bashaa and Laliya to go share it if they wished. They nodded their thanks and then vanished into her inner chambers.

  “There are a couple smaller rooms branching off my bedchamber that the servants have used in the past. And even longer ago, they have housed other Blades. They are yours, Bashaa’s and Laliya’s if you wish to remain close.”

  When Tirigan merely nodded, his expression revealing nothing, she clarified, “At least until things calm down and we have time to find you better quarters elsewhere if you don’t wish to share my chambers.” Her gryphon stirred awake, and Asharru got the distinct impression that her gryphon didn’t care for the idea of Tirigan sleeping elsewhere.

  Well, you great tyrant, you’ll just have to learn that you don’t always get your way.

  There was an accompanying visual of the gryphon lazily stretching before coming to all fours and presenting her ass to Asharru and stalking away, lion’s tail twitching in disdain.

  Well, the damn stubborn beast! Never in all her twenty-five years had she felt such a divide between her duel human and gryphon natures. But Asharru was the one who had to deal with the running of New Sumer, so the big beast could just go sulk in a corner of her mind somewhere.

  “Thank you,” Tirigan said, his beautifully deep voice playing across her senses and drawing her back to their conversation. “My friends and I appreciate your great generosity.”

  “Well, we’re all new here and still learning. I thought it would be best if we stayed together for the time being.”

  He stroked his neatly trimmed beard thoughtfully. “A wise idea, my Lady.”

  Again, Asharru chased off the servants, saying she wouldn’t need them for several hours. Once the servants were gone, she turned back to Tirigan.

  “We might as well start.” She circled around until she was standing behind him. Though she couldn’t yet see his back, covered in the garb of a Ninevian guard, she placed her hands on either shoulder blade.

  She pressed her thumbs into the skin, massaging in small circles through the fabric to test how pliable his skin was.

  Not very, she found.

  By the feel, the scar tissue was varying depths in different regions of his back.

  “Strip and then lay belly down on my bed.”

  During her training as a priestess, she’d often studied the art of healing a broken body. Like many of her sisters, she believed that the body, mind, and soul all needed to be healed together to fully restore a person.

  Tirigan needed more healing than just his back. But she�
�d begin with his body tonight, and hopefully one day he’d be able to forget some of the horrors from his past.

  “Relax, I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder as she went to retrieve her healer’s supplies.

  Chapter 18

  Strip and then lay belly down on my bed. The words continued to echo in his head even after Asharru had momentarily exited the bedchamber. Goddess, she wasn’t even aware how those simple words affected him, putting him into a state of battle readiness.

  While he waited, Tirigan reminded himself Asharru wasn’t the enemy. She hadn’t even realized how her simple words, said in innocence with only the thought of the bed being the most practical place for him to recline while she worked on his back, would affect him.

  Oh, but they triggered a part of his personality he hadn’t had to call upon in close to two moon cycles, not since he’d escaped Governor Ugurnaszir.

  Sharp-edged and lethal, this was the darker version of the flirtatious charm he could produce. It was the side of his personality that could turn sex into a weapon; dominance and aggression into submission. In the past, he’d taken his master’s idea, took control and shaped it into something else, and at some point in the night, he was in command, orchestrating everything.

  It was a defense mechanism; a cruel, harsh side of his nature he didn’t know how to turn off now that he didn’t need it.

  He never wanted Asharru to witness that side of him.

  But as he approached her bed, unclasping the brooch at his shoulder, he didn’t just shove the robe to his waist, he allowed it to fall to the floor. Then he lay on his side, facing the door Asharru had vanished through.

  She would return the same way, and he would be ready. After a moment’s thought, he braced one arm against the bed, so he was partially upright, and allowed one leg to shift forward to hide his manhood from her view.

  Last night, while they’d shared a bath, he’d watched to see if she’d steal a look. She hadn’t, but he sensed she’d battled with herself. He’d seen it before. An otherwise good person falling prey to their baser instincts. He’d even drawn the eye of mated full-blood gryphons, though that was supposed to be impossible.

  If he wasn’t a Blade, then he’d inherited some other strange power from one of his parents.

  Whatever his heritage, it was a curse that drew both women and men to him like bees to honey. Asharru wouldn’t be any different, he saw that now.

  It would start innocently enough. She’d be happy if he were her Blade. He’d aid her in protecting the people of New Sumer. She’d come to rely upon him.

  It would be only natural that she’d start to think about bringing the next generation of royal offspring into the world. If she didn’t find a gryphon mate on her own, she might pray to the gods.

  And if she did, then the gods might answer her prayers and demand Tirigan and Asharru perform the Sacred Marriage, thus ensuring the next generation of gryphon kings.

  Asharru’s reasons might be more noble than most, but she would still use him, even if it were innocently done.

  And there was no way he’d be a slave again. He wouldn’t.

  His eyes narrowed, fists clenching.

  And what if he was mistaken and she wasn’t as innocent as he believed?

  Well, then. If she came for him like every other unscrupulous person he’d had the misfortune to bed, he’d be ready to turn the tables on her.

  If there was going to be a slave in their relationship, it wouldn’t be him.

  His gift rose within him, warm and strong and confident. It seemed to say she was different.

  Then this will be a test of sorts, won’t it, he challenged his magic.

  Soft footfalls approached and Asharru walked into the room, her head down as she sorted through a satchel she carried. Halfway across the floor she looked up, saw him, and halted so suddenly her robe’s hem slapped against her bare legs.

  She stared.

  Ah, he had her now.

  If she wanted a better view, she’d have to come closer, and he’d be ready with more honey to lure her in.

  He waited, a seductive smile on his face.

  She didn’t move.

  Why did that both please him and infuriate him?

  At last, she gave him a look over like he’d expected.

  Good, she’s mine, Tirigan thought. I’m in control of the situation again.

  At least that’s what he thought until her gaze reached his and he saw her wisdom and compassion shining through her eyes. She saw deep inside him. Straight to his soul.

  Suddenly he was far more naked than just being unclothed.

  But he’d started this path. He was trapped in the role now.

  “I thought you might like this better than belly down.” His grin still in place, he glanced down taking in the curves her robe didn’t completely hide.

  “Poor Tirigan, I’m not like the others you’ve known.” Asharru began to move then, walking slowly toward him, her expression filled with a sympathy that completely disarmed him.

  He froze, still half expecting some trick but at the same time unable to move or summon any kind of defense against her. She just kept on coming until she sat down on the bed next to him, so close their thighs touched. Then she reached out for his hand and entwined their fingers.

  “Tirigan, I know your experience and instincts are telling you the opposite, but I will never use you.”

  He glanced down at their fingers. She gave them a gentle squeeze, and then her other hand cupped the side of his face, so he’d look back up at her.

  “Yes. I’m a hybrid, but my gryphon is firmly in command. I don’t take multiple lovers.” She paused and chuckled. “Or any lover yet. The first man I take to my bed will be my mate.”

  He arched a brow.

  She suddenly looked at him and then her bed and started to laugh. “Ah. I’ve said the wrong thing again. What I mean to say is I’m like a pure-blooded gryphon in my desires. The first male I bring to my bed with the intent to make love to him will be my mate.”

  Tirigan looked again at their clasped hands. He no longer knew what to think or how to act. That was a first. He always knew how to handle a situation.

  Asharru was different than anyone he’d met. When he was with her, he felt…at ease. Complete. Needed, but not in the hot sultry way of desire.

  “Tirigan, you’re safe with me. I swear it. I’ll never steal your free will or force you into a situation you haven’t first agreed to. If you are a Blade…my Blade, I will give you as much autonomy as the gods allow. If we are Blade and Monarch, I can’t promise that the gods won’t require us to perform the Sacred Marriage, but afterward, if you don’t want to be lovers for the rest of the year, I will accept that and leave it to the gods to provide us with children while they have use of our bodies.”

  What Asharru was offering wasn’t so far off what he dreaded, but when she said it, it just sounded less horrific, less like slavery and more like a partnership. Her offer was…fair. And more importantly, her words lacked even a hint of deception.

  He wanted to believe her, but he’d seen other honest, well-meaning masters start out with the same good intentions.

  Dark instincts reared up once more, and he shifted, stretching, showcasing all that he had to offer.

  As he’d expected, Asharru took the bait. She took her time studying him, but his gift for seeing into a person’s heart and mind didn’t detect any of the telltale warm, musky essences that frequently accompanied desire.

  “Behave.” She grinned at him. “I said you were safe with me, not that I’m cold and dead inside. I have a pulse, and you are a beautiful specimen, but alas, my gryphon isn’t ready to let me play, even with one as lovely as you.”

  She tugged her hand free, and he was surprised to find he didn’t want to let it go. To be touched without desire, even if it was such a small touch, was lovely and he wanted more. He studied her with some calculation, wondering how he could prolong such an innocent touch without
it turning into something else.

  Laughing, she slapped him on the flank, surprising a grunt from him.

  “You, stop flirting and let me work.” She pushed at his shoulder, urging him down on his belly. “Let’s find out if you’re a Blade and put that one question to rest.”

  Chapter 19

  Asharru kept an eye on him as she set out her supplies on the bed. He was still on edge from when her thoughtless words had triggered his traumatic memories, though he seemed to have come down a little, willing to trust her again.

  “Lay still. I’m going to work a tonic into your skin. It will feel cold at first and then gradually warm. It will help open the pores of the skin. After that, I’ll work in some creams and potions to hopefully make your skin supple enough to absorb my blood if you’re a Blade.” Asharru poured a little of the liquid in her palm. “Even with the mark burned away, the skin should retain the necessary properties needed to absorb royal blood.”

  “If I am a Blade, how will we know? I didn’t encounter anything in the temple records about a Blade who had their mark burned away. I doubt it will regenerate swiftly. It might even take days for the flesh to heal enough for the mark to show. If I am a Blade at all,” he said, his words muffled as he rested his head on his folded arms, “and this isn’t a fool’s errand.”

  “I suppose we’ll find out.” Asharru kept the liquid in her palm until it had warmed. Once she’d taken the chill out of it, she smoothed her hands along his warm skin, starting high up at his shoulders and working her way slowly inward, to his spine.

  The skin had a strange, waxy texture to it. She’d seen similar injuries before.

  Tirigan was tense under her hands, but she continued her task as if he wasn’t. Slowly sliding her hands lower, she kneaded the muscles along his back and taking extra time over his spine.

  Midway through her task, Tirigan relaxed, a sigh of pleasure escaping him.