She cut his words off with a searing kiss.
Stunned, he growled at the unexpected taste of her as she filled his arms with warm, lush curves, and his head with the scent of sweet roses.
Ushara pulled back to stare up at him with a sheepish smile. "Sorry."
"Why? For that greeting, I'd light my ass on fire ... Or you could."
She laughed, then sobered. "Are you all right?"
Cringing, he scratched at his ear in the most adorable fashion. "My ego will never be the same. I hope I didn't offend your sisters overmuch. It was kind what they attempted to do. I didn't mean to spoil it."
"So what happened?"
He tucked his chin to his chest. "I seem to have developed an aversion for soap. Took one look at a bar and it--"
She cut his words off with another kiss. "The truth."
"Why? I definitely prefer the rewards a lie brings me."
Snorting, she dropped her hands to his waist.
He sucked his breath in sharply as she lightly touched him.
"Because the truth will bring you much better ones."
His body turned molten as his throat went dry. "Don't, Shara." He tried to pull away, but she wouldn't let him.
She captured his coat and held him in front of her. "Not tonight. I know all the arguments why this is stupid and why I should jettison you out the nearest airlock. I hear everything as loudly as if I'm Trajen. But..." She placed her hand on his cheek and forced him to meet her gaze. "Then I look at you and I see those soulful eyes that burn me." She brushed her thumb against his lips. "This cute little smirk..." She pressed her lips together. "I've never felt like this about anyone else. And I don't understand it. I loved my husband. I did, but it was very different. It was comfortable and comforting. What I feel for you is scary and unnerving."
"Great. I terrorize you. Just the emotion I wanted to inspire." He tried again to get loose.
But she was ever relentless as she held him in place. "It is great in a terrifying way. It's like a part of me awakens whenever you come near me. And I know you don't feel the same, and that's okay."
She interrupted him when he started to speak. "I don't want to take anything from you, Jullien. You've had enough taken away. I just want to give you the one thing I don't think you've ever had."
"And that is?"
"Safe harbor. Come home with me. One night. And let me show you what it's like to lay your head down in peace ... in a place where you're wanted."
Jullien couldn't breathe as his throat tightened. Don't be stupid. It's a fucking trick.
It had to be.
Suddenly suspicious, he stepped back and looked around. "Who's here?"
"What?"
"Is it The League? You're surrendering me, aren't you?"
She gaped at his assumption. "No one's here. Dear gods, Jullien. Really? You honestly think I'm lying about this? That I'm setting you up to hand you over to your enemies? What have they done to you that you can't trust anyone? For anything?"
Jullien let out a bitter laugh as her question triggered several memories he hated most. "You really don't want me to answer that."
She caught his arm as he started to leave. "Talk to me."
Where could he even begin? Seriously. There was so much pain. So much inside him that hurt and was broken. He'd been alone for so long, he didn't even know how to be with someone else.
But as he stared into her eyes, there was one memory that always stood out above the others. One nightmare that he could never banish no matter how hard he tried. And before he knew it, he told her the one thing he'd never told another soul.
"When we met you, you asked whose murder I was wanted for. Do you remember?"
Ushara nodded slowly as a bad feeling went over her. By his somber mood, she could tell this was going to be terrible. So she braced herself as best she could.
"It was the first life I took. You know how old I was?"
"Twenty?"
His laugh was even more bitter than the darkness in his eyes. "Seven."
Horrified, she choked at the last number she'd have ever expected to come out of his mouth.
Was he serious?
"What?" she gasped.
His gaze haunted and tormented, he nodded. "I killed him in cold blood. He never saw it coming."
A chill went down her spine as she struggled to understand what he was telling her, and the age he'd been when he'd done the most unspeakable crime. "Why would you do such a thing?"
Stepping away from her, he wiped his hand over his face as if he was trying to rid himself of the nightmare and couldn't. "I just wanted to make sure my mother was okay. She'd been crying all day for my brother--like she would often do. Then all of a sudden, she was quiet for no reason."
He turned to face her. "It made my blood run cold."
"Why?"
"I knew my grandmother was growing impatient with her. I'd been savagely beaten the year before for crying myself so I knew better than to shed another tear for Nykyrian. I wasn't about to risk my grandmother's wrath again. Ever. Trust me. One of Eriadne's beatings is more than enough to live long in anyone's memory. But my mother had been spared it, so far. Yet I knew it was only a matter of time until my grandmother turned her wrath on her, too. And something about the way she'd stopped crying that night told me it wasn't right. That this was the night my grandmother had had enough of it. It was a feeling deep in my gut. So I went to check on her. And when I pushed open the heavy door to her room, I saw my grandmother's personal guard smothering her in her bed."
Ushara gasped in horror.
Jullien swallowed, but still showed no emotion as he continued speaking in a whispered monotone. "I was so scared when I saw them, I didn't know what to do. He was huge and I was so small in comparison. One blow and he could have killed me. Just like they were always threatening to do. But I couldn't let him kill my mother. She was all I had left in the universe."
He raked his hand through his hair. "Terrified. Freaking out. In a total panic, I saw my mother's military Warsword on the wall, next to the door where I stood. Just a few inches from my hand. I was never to touch it because it was so sharp and dangerous. All my life, I'd been told that it could cut through flesh and bone like they were made of butter, and all I could think was that it would help me. So I grabbed it and cut his head off before I knew what I was doing. Before he even knew I was in the room. I had no idea anyone could bleed so much. And it was so hard to pull his body from my mother's. He was so heavy. I kept thinking his weight would crush her before I could get him off her and check to see if she still lived."
Ushara couldn't breathe at the tragic horror he described. "You didn't call for help?"
"Who, Ushara?" His voice finally held his anger, guilt, and turmoil. "It was my own grandmother, the tadara, who'd sent that male to murder her while she lay in a drugged stupor. The same insidious creature who'd just ordered the death of my twin brother. The very one who'd cut the throat of my own grandfather and everyone else in my family. Who was going to help me, I ask you? Who was I supposed to call that night for help? Who? My father wouldn't even take my calls. He was in mourning for my brother, and I was told that the sound of my voice was too mentally disturbing for him to deal with, at that time."
In that moment, the full horror of his childhood and situation hit her. He'd truly had no one in his life to turn to. Not for anything. "Your father really wouldn't take you in?"
"No. He refused to go to war for me. He told me as much. Repeatedly. His people mean more to him than a worthless, lying bastard son he can't trust. That's all I am to him. It's all I've ever been. He never once even thought of me as his heir. Not really. Nyk was the only one of us he ever loved. He never cared for me."
Ushara wanted to deny it, but he was right and she knew it. A contradiction would only sting him more. "So what did you do?"
"Once I made sure she was alive, I cleaned the blood from her as best I could and I sat there in shock for hours, holding the bloody
Ushara could imagine the elder tadara waking to find the young prince in her room in such a grisly state. "And?"
"I placed his head at her feet and stared at her without flinching. Then with all the courage I could muster, I confronted her and said that tonight is the last night you will threaten my mother. Ever. Because there is one truth as tahrs that I know about you, mu Tadara. You are as vain as you are cruel. And while you hate me and are ashamed of me, you would die before you ever allowed a lesser Anatole lineage to occupy your beloved throne. Since you have killed my brother, I am the sole heir of your direct bloodline. The very last of it. Therefore you are forced to endure me. But I am not forced to tolerate you. With one cut of this sword, I could take your throne as easily as I took your guard's head. If you ever come at my mother again, I won't hesitate to take my place as the Andarion tadar. My mother is all that keeps you alive. Guard her well and know that your life is dependent upon hers."
Jullien sighed. "In retrospect, I should have speared her in that bed while I had the chance. That was my biggest mistake in life.... And my greatest regret."
"Does your mother know about this?"
He shook his head. "She was passed out from her drugs and remembers none of it. Only my grandmother and I know about that night. Eriadne had it all cleansed and erased. I didn't know any part of it had been kept as evidence until the warrants for my execution had been issued."
"How so?"
"Bitch kept the clothes I was wearing that night that had the guard's blood on them. Her version of the story omits his attack on my mother. With no corroborating witnesses..."
"You're a murderer."
"Wanted dead for it."
"But if you went to your family and told them--"
He laughed bitterly. "They don't care. My aunt Tylie's partner was the one who shot me when I escaped Andaria the last time four years ago ... on Tylie's orders."
"But your mother--"
"Would stand beside Tylie against me. She believes I'm as guilty as they do. If she thought me innocent, she'd have rescinded the contract. But notice, it stands and so I'm hunted without quarter. I can't even get it reduced to a simple Bill-Kill. At least that would be a quick, painless death, instead of being tortured first."
Ushara felt sick to her stomach for him. She couldn't imagine how horrible he must have felt when his aunt ordered him shot.
How betrayed.
Jullien let out a tired breath. "Look, don't judge my mother. It's not her fault. I'm not going to lie and say I was this perfect, pristine angel. I wasn't. I cut the bastard's head off with a single stroke while he had his back to me. I spent my entire childhood in a fit of bitter rage. And you didn't want to be caught in my path when it exploded. Sometimes my actions were justified. Many times they weren't. Whether they were or not, I still have to live with them all. That's what's hard."
"And knowing all this about you, I still want to take you home." She held her hand out to him.
Jullien hesitated. "Why?"
"Is it that hard to believe that I might like you?"
"You'd be the first."
"Then let me be your first."
Still aghast, Jullien stared at her. But in the end, he couldn't deny what she made him feel. She was offering him the one thing he wanted most. The one thing he'd never had.
A kind touch. Someone who didn't look at him like he was utter shit.
Knowing this was probably as big a mistake as not taking his grandmother's head, he placed his hand in hers and let the warmth of her skin soothe him.
Without another word of protest, he followed her back through the station to a small grocery store. She glanced about nervously. "I need to get a few things before we go to my place."
"Okay." He trailed along behind her as she grabbed a small basket.
"Do you have a meat preference?"
He shrugged. "I've learned not to be picky these last few years." He took the basket from her so that he could carry it while she quickly filled it with dinner items.
"Wine?" she asked.
"Again, no preference."
Ushara hesitated in the aisle. "Suggestions, then? I don't usually drink it."
"I don't need it, if you don't want it."
She grinned up at him. "I normally eat with a certain young one who isn't old enough to imbibe. Since we're adults, I would really like some. My husband was a male of simple tastes who didn't care for it, but I have a feeling you are one who knows a really good vintage from a total waste of credits."
"Ah ... that I do. However, do you want a robust bargain or something decadently obscene that will leave your panties on the floor, your head in the clouds, and your bank account screaming in agony?"
She laughed at his description. "Is there a happy compromise between those two options?"
Screwing his face up, he perused the shelves for a few minutes before he finally reached for a bottle. "This should meet your needs quite nicely with the flavors you've chosen for dinner." He added it to the basket. "Is there anything else you require?"
She bit her lip as she glanced about and tried not to be completely mortified. "Um ... there is one thing. Wait right here." She tried to be subtle and fast.
Unfortunately and to her utter humiliation, Jullien followed after her. Damn it!
She really, really hated the amused cock of his brow as she placed the small box into the basket underneath the food.
When she started out of the aisle, toward the register, he didn't move. Rather he cleared his throat to get her attention.
"Those won't fit, you know."
"Excuse me?"
"They're sized for human males. They'll be too small and will probably break."
Heat erupted over her face. "Are you serious?"
He nodded. "I would tell you to look on the box. But given the degree of redness on your face already, I'm rather sure you'd die on the spot of embarrassment."
Grinding her teeth, she groaned under her breath. "I think you're too late. I already have."
He grinned at her. Then, in the most debonnaire manner befitting a prince, he kissed her hand. "Go back to your place and I'll finish this and meet you there."
"I have to pay for it."
"I'm not a whore, Ushara. I can buy your dinner for you."
"I wasn't implying that you were."
"Then go and I'll meet you there. Unless you really want to shop for condoms with me."
She let out an adorable squeak. "Fine, I'm out! I'll see you in a few minutes."
Jullien laughed at her hasty retreat. He found it precious and refreshing that a female so worldly and jaded could be embarrassed by something so ridiculously innocuous. It also told him a lot about her that she knew so very little about what she was buying, and how to pick them out.
Though why she'd waste time with him defied his imagination and humbled him.
In all his life, no matter how many times he'd tried, he'd never been able to convince a female to go with him on a date, of any kind. Not even a paid companion. They would accompany him to prearranged functions he'd contracted for, and he could visit the condos he provided for them for specified visitations hours or they would come to his palace rooms, but that was it.
Human women had always been terrified of his Andarion size, and fangs. So much so, that they'd cross the street at his approach or run from the room, even vacate an elevator. It'd given him a complex in his younger years.
Andarion females were far more cruel and unforgiving. His human eyes had caused them to view him as a deformed freak. That had been bad enough. Once he'd started gaining weight ...
His Andarion social life had come to a screeching halt.
No female had ever looked at him the way Ushara did. They had never made him feel the things he felt whenever she met his gaze.
Like he was desirable.
He couldn't fathom it. Why would a female so beautiful and kind waste her time on him? It made no sense. But one thing was sure. Unlike other males, he wouldn't squander this chance. He knew how rare and precious these moments were.
How fleeting.
They might only have tonight. And all he had left to give her was his heart and respect.
His life.
But they were hers if she'd take them. And if she ultimately refused him and threw him aside like everyone else had, then he hoped she had the decency to kill him.
*
Ushara had just begun to worry that Jullien had lost his way to her condo when she heard the light knock on her door. She opened it to find him there with a huge bouquet of red and gold flowers in his arms.
And coiled in the center of them was a pair of thick purple socks. The exceptionally soft kind that she adored.
"What did you do?"
He dipped his head down sheepishly to peer at her from behind the bouquet. "I called your herd of giggling sisters for a consultation. They said these were your favorite. The socks more than the flowers."
Laughing, she pulled him inside to kiss his cheek. "They're correct, but right now, the male holding them outranks them all in my affections."
"I find that hard to believe.... The socks are much cuter."
She bit her lip as she took the flowers from him and carried them to the kitchen. He followed her with the groceries and set them on the counter for her.
As Ushara turned, she caught the hungry look in his eyes. It was absolutely searing and it riveted her to the spot. No one had ever looked at her like that. As if she was the air he needed to breathe.
And yet he stood away from her, rigid and aloof. With all the regal dignity of a prince.
"You know I give you permission to touch me, Jullien."
Still, he made no move to do so. It was so ingrained in Ixurian Andarion culture to respect each other's personal space that they never reached out to lightly touch one another. Only the closest of family would do such.
Even then, seldom in public.
Fyrebloods were different. They'd never been like his kind. It had been one of many reasons they'd been persecuted and hated throughout the centuries on Andaria. They were far more open and free. And, with no understanding of why they were like that, the darkhearts had been suspicious of them.
-->
