She smiled at the small sign he was coming to trust her. Though he might not know it yet himself. She soon moved on to the next cream, working that over the entire area. As she continued to work, Tirigan continued to let his guard down, turning his face to the side so she could see a hint of his emotions as they flickered across his features.
He shuddered under her hands, and that’s when she knew her innocent tending was triggering a less than innocent response in him.
Mindful of his history and what might trigger some of his more traumatic memories, she paused. “We can stop for now if you need a break.”
He snorted with laughter. “Do not concern yourself.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course, I am. Your wellbeing is important to me.”
He lifted his head from his folded arms and turned to look at her, his earlier defensive humor gone. “Asharru, you can continue. Your touch isn’t going to traumatize me. I promise.”
Feeling foolish for making it into something bigger than it was, she continued her work. When she’d done all she could think of to prepare the site and make the skin more supple, she reached into her satchel and pulled out a sharp little knife.
After dipping it into strong spirits, she brought its blade to her right palm, not wanting to impair her dominant hand. Making a small cut, she waited for the hot wash of blood to pour across her hand.
Slowly, a little at a time, she anointed the twisted and melted flesh, making sure the greatest quantity was concentrated along his spine. She hadn’t told him she’d begun to apply her blood, and the herbal smell of the other creams and tonics likely covered up the coppery scent.
She wanted to see if she could spot any change in him, but almost as soon as her blood touched his skin, her gryphon woke and her magic flared. Oh. Her magic was responding to him.
Surely that must mean something.
Tirigan gasped. “This isn’t a good idea.”
Tensing, he made to get up, the muscles in his arms flexing.
“Shh… It’s alright. I won’t use any more blood, but we need to discover if you’re a Blade.”
“It tingles.” Tirigan’s voice was still sounding strained, but he allowed her to gently push him back down.
“That’s normal.”
For a Blade, she added in her head.
He relaxed somewhat. Not entirely, but at least he hadn’t bolted from the bed and run.
“Tell me if it changes,” she said soothingly.
“It’s growing hotter now, almost like a burning power, but it’s not painful. It’s…” He turned his face away from her then.
It was said when Ishtar blessed her Blades, the power was like a deep penetrating heat or a fiery passion depending on what gifts she bestowed upon them. It sounded a lot like Tirigan was getting both.
Soft bluish magic surrounded her fingers where they rested on his back. The magic soon spread to sink into his skin. That was unexpected. But she sensed it was healing him, not harming him, so she kept her hands firmly pressed against his flesh.
“Goddess…,” he slurred, sounding drunk. He shuddered under her hands again.
Slowly, she massaged the scar tissue in small circles, trying to soothe him.
While there was no evidence of a mark yet, he was having a strong reaction to her gryphon blood, more so than even a normal Blade would on the first blooding. It was possible the potions and creams she’d worked into his skin had made him more susceptible.
“Please stop.”
‘Oh, Tirigan, I would if the power was mine to control.’
“It’s too much. It…it feels… Ah…goddess! I…I don’t want this.”
There was a frantic note to his voice. She was sure he was revealing far more than he wanted with those simple words. He didn’t want to embrace the fact he was a Blade or enjoyed her touch, but he couldn’t deny either.
“Shh, my Blade. It will be over soon, and all will be well. I will never use the bond against you or steal your free will.” She tried to project that in her gentle healing touch.
Her gryphon responded to his tone, wanting to offer comfort and protection. Asharru directed a mental frown at her gryphon.
You, not now, she growled at it. This isn’t the time to purr and rub yourself all over him. The poor man has had to deal with a lot, he doesn’t want what you’re offering. Not yet. We’re lucky he’s chosen to stay and serve us and not taken his freedom and run far away.
“Nah,” he grunted, the one sound a full representation of his grogginess, confusion, and arousal. “Almost over?”
“Yes. I think so.”
He heaved himself up enough he could turn his head toward her and level a glower at her.
Feeling defensive, she decided she needed to say something more.
“You responded very strongly to my blood. It might have had something to do with the creams and tonic I used to open the pores of your skin, allowing more of the blood to penetrate than during a normal Blooding Ceremony.” As she explained, the magic ringing her fingers slowly ebbed, the last of it vanishing into his body. “There. It’s over.”
He muttered something unintelligible as his body relaxed back into the bed.
“Sleep if you’re tired. I’ll watch over you.”
It was a silly thing to say. He didn’t need her to watch over him. But she’d needed to say it to satisfy her gryphon, who was still probing at her defenses.
“Is there a mark?” he asked after some moments.
“No. Not yet.” But I’m now sure you are a Blade, and if Ishtar is merciful, you will be my Blade.
Tirigan’s eye’s narrowed, studying her but then he nodded and rested his head on his folded arms again.
A short time later he let out a long sigh, and soon after his breathing deepened in sleep.
Her gryphon was anything but sleepy, pacing and prowling in the confines of Asharru’s mind.
“Fine, you win,” she muttered under her breath as she started to undress. “But no frightening the man when he wakes up.”
She released her hold on her magic and the last bit of willpower holding the beast in check. The shift took her as an intense glow surrounded her body. Wings burst from her back, and she dropped to all fours.
Moments later, when she was entirely gryphon, she gapped her beak to better taste Tirigan’s scent. Purring, she jumped up and planted her two front paws on either side of his hips and then lowered her beak to nuzzle his body.
Her new Blade made a sleepy sound of protest as her cheek feathers brushed against his side. Humans were often ticklish there, and she was tempted to continue to rub just so he would wake, but another part of her conscience reminded her gryphon nature that the man needed his rest after his first Blooding Ceremony.
Purring agreement, she climbed up the rest of the way and carefully stepped over his still form to lay on his other side. Once she found the perfect position, she flopped down next to him and curled her tail across his hips, urging him closer.
He responded by muttering sleepily at the disturbance, but he soon rolled tight against her side. Purring louder, she mantled a wing around him.
It wouldn’t do for her Blade and future mate to catch a chill, her gryphon reasoned as she lowered her head to the pillow.
Feeling happier than she had in months, she joined her Blade in rejuvenating sleep.
Chapter 20
A warm silky blanket chased off the night’s chill. Night? There was an awful lot of light filtering in between his lashes for it to be nighttime. Groaning, he cracked open an eye. It was day, not night.
For some reason that was important, but just then his stomach growled again, complaining bitterly about its empty state. Shut up, he told it, not wanting to get up just yet. He grunted and rolled closer to the fur pelt pressed against his side.
His fingers worked their way into the warm fur even as his mind drifted. The warm silkiness brushed against the entire length of his body. This was…nice.
But then his stomach snarl
ed at him again, and he blinked open his eyes and sighed dejectedly.
Fine, I’m up.
Opening his eyes, he blinked in confusion.
What?
By Ishtar’s tits, how had he gotten here?
Yes, that was a gryphon sleeping next to him. A gryphon he was wrapped around like a baby monkey clinging to its mother.
Damn. In all the beds he’d woken up in over the years, this was the first time he’d shared one with someone shifted to their gryphon form.
Then he remembered the night before. Asharru’s gentle touch that had aroused him faster than anyone alive. The tingle of magic, a great burning sensation where he’d thought he’d die, followed by a mellower warmth that had his toes nearly curling in pleasure.
Then there had been Asharru’s kindness, compassion, and sympathy.
She’d wanted him to feel safe and cherished.
At the time it hadn’t been alarming. It felt right.
Afterward, he’d drifted to sleep feeling safe and, yes, loved for the first time in his existence.
But now he felt so much more. It was like Asharru had somehow lodged herself in his soul.
Then he remembered the purpose of it all.
A Blooding Ceremony to find out if he was a Blade.
Goddess. If his response earlier and the strong presence of Asharru now in his mind was anything to go by, he was sure the answer was yes.
He was a Blade.
Her Blade.
The one thing he didn’t want.
But he still needed to see the proof with his own eyes. Searching the bedchamber, he soon spotted a round polished copper mirror standing in the north corner of the room near a painted papyrus screen.
Glancing back at the sleeping gryphon, he slowly unwound her tail from where it was curled around his lower legs. Next, he shifted the massive paw from around his waist. Almost as soon as he’d moved it, she curled it back around him and dragged him close again.
He kept his body relaxed and his breathing calm and tried again after several moments. His second attempt met with success, and he was soon wiggling his way free of the big gryphon.
Foolishly he instantly felt bereft without the earlier contact.
Only after he was up and away from her warmth did it occur to him that he’d been sleeping next to a creature with a beak large enough to decapitate him with one bite or disembowel him with the swipe of a paw if she so chose.
Not that he thought she would, but he hadn’t survived this long by being foolish or acting before he’d thought out a plan. What was wrong with him? Why had he allowed himself to fall asleep in her bed?
He hadn’t been so exhausted that he couldn’t have moved. Then it occurred to him that he’d wanted to stay, to sleep in her bed, to wake with her close. Though her shifting to gryphon form wasn’t what his power-drugged mind had been hoping for, he was certain.
“You’ve gone soft in the head, Tirigan,” he chided himself. Or maybe there was something about the link that just rendered a Blade defenseless against their monarch.
With that unhappy thought, he stalked naked toward the bright glow of the mirror where it had caught a ray of light coming in through the rippled glass of the doors leading out to the garden balcony.
Drawing in a fortifying breath, he presented his back to the mirror. The familiar twisted scar tissue was still in evidence, though to a lesser degree than it had been. But what caught and held his attention was the gold and indigo mark running down the entire length of his spine like someone had tattooed it there in the night.
Yes, that was the mark of Ishtar bisecting his back, shouting for all who looked upon it that he was a Blade, slave to both monarch and goddess.
Fists clenching and nostrils flaring, he slowly walked away from the mirror and over to the wardrobe where some helpful servant had laid out clean clothing for him. He snatched up a loincloth and tied it on. He was just reaching for a clean robe when he changed his mind.
Asharru would wish to see the mark when she woke, which would be soon, his new ability to sense her told him.
His stomach growled again, urging him to go out and find something to eat. He started for the door leading to the outer chambers, but stopped and doubled back, selecting a long cloak generally reserved for the rainy season, but it would do for now.
He slung it around his shoulders and was still tying it on as he left for the outer chambers.
As he’d hoped, he found food laid out on the table. Upon closer inspection, it proved to be fresh, the tea and cooked grains still hot and steaming.
“Would you like me to pour you some tea, My Lord?”
Tirigan nearly jumped out of his skin. Whirling toward the voice, he found himself facing one of the familiar serving girls.
“Lord Tirigan, forgive me. I did not mean to startle you.”
“You didn’t.” That was clearly a lie, but neither of them paid it any mind.
But he was more concerned with how she’d been able to sneak up on him. Why hadn’t he sensed her while he was still inside the bedchamber? For that matter, why couldn’t he feel the guards?
Looking around, he spotted other servants standing against the walls. Hunzuu was present, eyeing Tirigan with interest. So were the rest of the servants.
Belatedly, he realized it was because he’d just exited Asharru’s bedchamber wearing a loincloth, a cloak, and nothing else. Every last gryphon shifter in the room would be able to smell Asharru’s scent upon him. That was sure to raise some questions.
The servant cleared her throat and hesitated before glancing back at the table.
Tea. Right.
“Thank you,” he said stiffly.
After she’d poured him a cup, she glanced back in his direction. “Would the Crown Princess like her meal brought into her bedchamber?”
“She is still sleeping. Let her rest.” The servant nodded and then retreated to the wall. Then he realized his appearance might have somehow tarnished Asharru’s reputation, not that the princess couldn’t have ten lovers if she wished, but for some reason he didn’t even know, it was important that others still see her as the virtuous role model she was.
And palace rumor was probably even more vicious than what circulated around the other city-states.
“Though she is in gryphon form, so she might prefer something less….” He paused. “Cooked?”
See, she’s gryphon, I’m human. Absolutely nothing could have happened last night. Don’t start spreading rumors.
Three of the servants left their positions along the wall, bowed to him, and then hurried from the room to see to his orders.
He scowled after them. Why were they still bowing to him?
Hunzuu walked up and joined him at the table. The male propped his hip against the stone and stared at Tirigan.
“What?” he said sounding snappish. But he was worried about why he suddenly couldn’t feel or read anyone other than Asharru.
“Blunt or tactful?” Hunzuu asked with a grin.
“Blunt,” he said, scowling at the guardsman.
“Are you now our future King? The guard will need to be notified not to allow you to go anywhere by yourself. You will need the same protections as Asharru.”
Hunzuu’s blunt question startled Tirigan so much that he choked on the tea he’d been sipping.
“What, by Ereshkigal’s frigid tits, makes you think that?”
The other male arched an eyebrow. “Well, you were making some very impassioned sounding pleas to stop and then later just making very impassioned sounds. Then there was gryphon purring. We all heard it. And after all was quiet again, Kuri went to check on you both to find Asharru in her gryphon form and you naked tucked against her side. The gryphon warned her off.”
“That wasn’t…” Just what could he tell the other male with all remaining servants looking on?
There was no sex? It was just a blooding ceremony? Carry on as you were?
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. He might not
be happy about the fact he was a Blade, and he might still be feeling slow and foggy in the head, and one of his abilities seemed to have vanished, but that didn’t mean he was power drunk enough to blurt out that he was a Blade to any enemies who might be listening through the ears of the servants.
Hunzuu cleared his throat. “It isn’t unheard of for a gryphon female to lose control and shift during moments of passion. But you’re human and wouldn’t have been able to shift with her…”
“That didn’t happen.”
“And now you’re wearing a cloak. If you’ve been clawed up and need healing, I can have one of the priests come.”
Goddess. Did he have to shout it from the roof? “What you’re thinking did not happen.”
Hunzuu’s one eyebrow nearly lodged in his hair. “Maybe not yet.”
Before the guard could go into more detail, the outer most chamber’s door opened and closed. The low murmur of conversation preceded the footsteps into the room.
Tirigan narrowed his focus, trying to sense who was coming, but his strange ability was still absent.
Kuri entered leading a stranger. The man was nobleman if Tirigan was to judge by his garb.
Then again, the newcomer could have walked in naked, and Tirigan would have recognized him as a noble by the arrogant way he carried himself as if all the guards and servants were an inconvenience hindering his way.
The male was younger than Tirigan if he was to guess. Perhaps Asharru’s age?
“My father sent me to see how Crown Princess Asharru is holding up and to let her know we are here to aid her if she needs anything.” The man glanced around the chamber, apparently hoping to get a glimpse of her.
Tirigan didn’t know who this male was, but he wasn’t getting within spitting distance of Asharru until his gift to read others returned.
“The Crown Princess was still asleep in gryphon form when I left her. Though I am happy to carry a message to her once she’s awake.”
Taken aback by Tirigan’s words, the other male looked at him as if seeing him for the first time.
His gaze took in Tirigan’s messy hair, nakedness except for a loincloth under the cloak and down to his bare feet before returning to meet Tirigan’s eyes with an unhappy look. His gaze actually turned more intense when it settled on his cloak.
Blade's Destiny (Ishtar's Legacy Book 3) Page 12
