Thankfully, he saw no censure on his friend’s face. “Out long enough to get her there?”
“At least until dawn, maybe longer.”
Marcus rubbed his beard. “If we take your airship, we can make it there in less than eight hours.”
“Take it with my blessing. Just get her there safely.”
“Woo-hoo!” Marcus jumped and pumped his fist in delight. “I’ve been dying to get behind the helm of that thing.”
“You’ll bring it back, right?”
“Maybe. Depends on how much I like it.”
“Go get it ready. I’ll stay here with her until you come back.”
Marcus ran out of the chambers like an eager child given a new toy, but Varro lingered with restrained dignity. “If it pleases your Imperial Majesty, I will send a message to my son to prepare the palace for Lady Azurha’s arrival.”
“Please be quiet about it. I don’t want anyone else to know where she is.”
“Of course, Emperor Sergius.” He reached the door and paused. “You shouldn’t worry too much about Lady Azurha. She seems to be a very resourceful woman.”
“What do you mean?”
“Did it ever occur to you that she has spent nearly a decade on her own? She’s an unmarried woman, a freed slave, and she’s managed to survive just fine without your protection.”
“She also came to me as a concubine.” The words stung as soon as he said them. Maybe he’d ask her why she agreed to join his harem when all this died down. Did she have any choice in the matter? Or was she just accepting any offer that came her way in order to keep food in her stomach and roof over her head?
“Perhaps, but she is every bit of a lady and deserves to be treated as such.” Varro bowed his head and slipped out of the room in his usual noiseless fashion.
Titus ran his fingers through his hair. He’d just arranged to send the one person who grounded him away. How would he deal with the stress of being emperor when he didn’t have her arms to retreat into at the end of the day? Memories of his first frustrating two weeks pulled at him. When she had arrived, she gave him the confidence he’d been lacking. What would happen when she was gone?
He returned to the bedroom and stood next to the bed, drinking in her features and committing them to his memory. Had he ever noticed the dark shadows her lashes cast on her cheeks before? Or the way the hollows just above her collarbone practically begged him to kiss her there? He grew hard just thinking about it and cursed the fact he’d somehow managed to knock her unconscious with his spell. Coming once more deep inside of her would help ease some of the impending loneliness.
She sighed in her sleep, and a new sensation twisted in his chest. Marcus was right. He’d fallen in love with her, as much as it frightened him to admit it. He needed her like he needed air. For a second, he contemplated cancelling his plan just so he could keep her here next to him. Would the palace walls be enough to keep her safe? Would he be enough?
“I’m wasting precious time debating this,” he muttered and crawled into the bed, curling his body around her. The scent of her jasmine perfume filled his nostrils and soothed him. He lay there and watched the pulse gently throb along her neck, wondering if she felt a fraction of the love he had for her.
“Please don’t hate me for doing this, Azurha. It’s for your own good.”
Her hand gripped his arm, blanching the skin, but her eyelids remained firmly closed.
“What? You don’t want to go?”
A small moan rose from her throat, followed by a whimper. Her fingers dug deeper into his flesh before her entire body surrendered and relaxed. Her hand fell to the mattress, and her breathing became slow and even. Even while sleeping, she challenged him but ultimately bent to his will.
“It won’t be for long. As soon as I take care of the person who threatened you, I’ll bring you back here, and I promise we won’t leave the bed for three days.”
The corners of her mouth twitched, and some of the heaviness eased off of his chest. She’d forgive him for this.
The locks clicked, and he lifted his head. Was it time for her to leave already?
Marcus strode into the room and halted when he saw them. “Do you two need a moment together?”
He shook his head. “Is my ship ready?”
“Ready and waiting. We’re in luck. We should be able to make the entire journey under the cover of night.”
He pulled himself away from her body, already missing her warm curves. “If anything happens to her…”
“I know, I know—you’ll have my head for it.” Marcus scooped her up into his arms. “And I promise I won’t take a peek under her skirts, either.”
“Glad to hear that.” Titus held his gaze for a moment, trying to find a way to put his gratitude into words without appearing like a simpering woman. “Thank you for going along with this crazy plan.”
“I know a lovesick man when I see him, and I know there’ll be no reasoning with you until it wears off.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then the empire’s doomed.” A grin tempered his dry words, and he carried Azurha out of the room.
The second he lost sight of her, emptiness hollowed out his chest and consumed his strength. Doubt crept into the fringes of his mind. By the gods, have I just made a huge mistake?
…
The smell of salt tickled Azurha’s nose when the blackness receded. She licked her lips, but tasted neither brine nor sweat. She tried to lift her head, frustrated by how heavy it felt. Bit by bit, her senses grew sharper, and the sound of crashing waves rolled in time with her pulse.
Something felt very wrong about this place.
Bright light assaulted her when she finally opened her eyes. “Where am I?” she croaked.
“At the emperor’s palace in Madrena,” a male voice answered. “He sent you here to keep you safe.”
Her surroundings came into focus much slower than the rage building up inside of her. “He sent me away? The fool!”
A pair of arms caught her as she tumbled from the bed. “Please be calm, Lady Azurha. I was told it would only be for a few days until he found the person threatening you.”
She batted his hands away and tried to stand, but her knees betrayed her. “I need to go back to the palace. My life is not the one that’s in danger. His is.”
“Lady Azurha, please stop fighting me. You’re in no condition to be going anywhere right now.”
A vaguely familiar face loomed in front of her, growing less hazy by the second. It was as if someone had taken twenty years off Varro. “He sent you, Varro?”
The man’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. “You must be referring to my father.” He sat her on the edge of the bed and rested a steadying hand on her back. “He spoke very highly of you. I’m Modius, Varro’s eldest son.”
The room swam in circles around her, and her stomach recoiled. “Who drugged me?”
“No one, as far as I know.”
“Then why do I feel like I drank too much wine?”
Two deep wrinkles furrowed Modius’s brows. “Should I send for a healer?”
“No!” The last thing she needed was some half-blood Deizian trying to manipulate her body. Enough damage had been done already. Memories of Titus’s magic infiltrating her mind stung worse than a whip. “He did this to me.”
“He?”
“Titus.” His betrayal filled her with bitterness, but she supposed she deserved it. After all, she was the one who set out to betray him first.
She managed to rise without wobbling and took a hesitant step toward the open balcony. “Is this my new cage?”
“I’ve heard the palace referred to by many different names, but never as a cage.” He hovered behind her, looking like he was preparing to keep her from jumping over the edge. “Are you sure you don’t want me to send for a healer?”
She stared down at the ocean pounding against the jagged cliff walls. The palace sat on an insulated peninsula that jutted out into th
e churning water. The setting matched her mood—isolated and in constant turmoil. Despite her warnings, he’d sent her to this remote part of the empire. Had he even listened to her?
A sizzle of magic streaked up her arm when she reached past the balcony rails. She jerked her hand back with a gasp.
“That’s one of the reasons he sent you here.” Modius beckoned her away from the edge. “Madrena has its own barrier. No one can enter here without the emperor’s blessing.”
“And no one can leave.” She turned around and approached him. “In other words, a cage. A prison.”
“A sanctuary, Lady Azurha.”
She snorted and went back into the bedroom. Despite the younger Varro’s reassurances, she knew what this place was and why Titus had sent her here. He didn’t trust her. “So, he left me here to rot?”
His lips thinned. “I may not be the soldier my father and brother are, but I will not have you speaking ill of the emperor. Whatever your interpretation of this is, I know he had your safety in mind. Why else would he send you here in the middle of the night on his fastest airship? He wants to keep your location secret until he knows it’s safe for you to return.”
If he lives long enough to claim me. Fear plagued the back of her mind, turning her blood cold. She wrapped her hand around the pendant he’d given her, offering a silent prayer the Legion wouldn’t fail to protect him while she was exiled here.
“It should only be a few days. A week at the most.” He crossed the room and threw back a sheet, revealing a small wooden cage. The lyger cub inside growled at him. “In the meantime, he sent you a companion.”
19
“This is the latest one.” Marcus nodded toward the man being dragged into the prison by three members of the Legion. “He was bragging about what he was going to do with the reward once he killed you.”
“So in other words, he was a stupid assassin.” Titus ran his fingers through his sweat-damp hair and retreated further into the shadows with his friend and the Legion’s captain. Over the last four days, the Legion had arrested seven men who had taken up the challenge of killing the emperor. All of them had criminal records based on the scars branded onto their bodies. But upon questioning, none of them knew anything about the threat on Azurha.
“We’ll see if he knows anything about the person who wants to see you dead.” Captain Galerius tightened his jaw and curled his hand into a fist.
“I appreciate your dedication.” Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Marcus rock back and forth on his feet, a sign he wanted to tell him something in private. “Keep me informed on your progress, Captain.”
The soldier nodded. The cracking of his knuckles echoed off the walls as he crossed the grounds to the prison. Whatever means he used for questioning, they wouldn’t be gentle.
Marcus followed him back to his private chambers, bypassing the throne room completely. The air seemed cooler there. Maybe it was the lack of people. Ever since he sent Azurha away, he’d been surrounded by soldiers, nobles, and advisors—all clamoring for his attention. It made him miss her calming influence even more.
“How did you know I wanted to speak to you in private?” Marcus poured two glasses of chilled wine and offered one to him.
“You had that look.” Titus accepted the glass and took a long sip. The sweet, icy wine trickled down his throat and cooled his flushed body. “What have you learned?”
“Nothing specific about Azurha, but an interesting thing about the Alpirions themselves. They have these legends about cursed ones, Alpirions with light colored eyes.”
“And how did you learn about this?”
“There are a few slaves that clung to their old ways, despite your grandfather’s ban. In this case, I found an old woman who calls herself a lore keeper. Blind as a bat, so it was easy enough to convince her I was an Alpirion curious to learn more about ‘my culture.’”
“So let me guess—these cursed ones are supposed to bring about the end of the world?” If there was a legend associated with a name like that, he knew there had to be some doom and gloom tale.
“Nope. What I gathered from her ramblings was that the ‘golden ones’ appeared and bred with some Alpirions. The resulting children had light colored eyes and the ability to control the elements.”
Titus rubbed his chin and tried to remember what little he’d learned about the Alpirions. “Didn’t they refer to the Deizians as the golden ones?”
Marcus nodded and grinned. “So, if you believe the lore keeper, Azurha probably has some Deizian blood, whether she knows it or not.”
“Why did you share this with me?” Just talking about her made him crave Azurha even more. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face. Sometimes, she was looking up at him in the throes of passion, her brilliant teal eyes sparkling with lust and satisfaction. Other times, he saw the hurt in the downward curve of her mouth and the tight clenching of her jaw.
“Perhaps knowing she has Deizian blood may ease things for you if you ever decide to make her more than your consort.” He winked and started to leave.
“A few drops of Deizian blood won’t stop the nobles from protesting the match.”
Marcus stopped at the door and heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m at a loss why you sent her away when she made you so happy.”
“It’s for her safety.”
“And by sending her away, you’ve basically told Galerius and the rest of the Legion that they’re not capable of protecting her. What’s the real reason? Was it because you don’t trust her? Or was it because you were falling in love with her, and that terrified you more than you admit?”
He’d hit the nail right on the head, and that irritated Titus more than salt in a fresh wound. Ire licked at his already raw heart. “It’s none of you business what I feel for her.”
“Fine. All I was trying to do is give you something to ease your nagging conscience. You can be happy and still provide a suitable heir. Deizian blood is Deizian blood, and there’s nothing the nobility can say about it.”
“So now you’ve gone from saying she’s a part of the conspiracy to kill me to saying she’ll make a suitable empress. Which is it?”
“I admit that I may have been wrong about her. You were right in that she had plenty of opportunities to hurt you and she didn’t. But more importantly, I’ve seen what a pissy mood you’ve been in since she left. You’re no good without her, and that’s saying a lot.” He slipped out the door before Titus could argue further.
His friend’s comments swirled around his mind like a cyclone. Was he really so disagreeable without her?
He crawled into bed and wrapped his arms around her pillow. He’d forbidden the slaves from changing the sheets since the day she left. Her scent still clung to the bedding, an intoxicating perfume of jasmine and sex and something that was uniquely her.
Could Marcus be on to something? Could some remote Deizian ancestor turn Azurha into a legitimate empress? Did that explain the wild magic she seemed to pass on to him? The same wild magic that churned inside of him and exploded from his mind like a charging bull whenever he used it? He didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse, but despite its violent force, the barriers appeared stronger than ever.
Magic be damned! He just wanted to hold her in his arms again. He missed her laughter, her smile. Marcus was right in that he wasn’t good without her. Nothing was.
Titus rose from the bed and crossed his chambers, his mind becoming more resolute with each step. It was time to face his fears. He needed to embrace his feelings for Azurha as much as he needed to embrace her body. She would be safe here with him, even if it meant he protected her with his dying breath. Death would be better than the empty ache that consumed him now.
He ran into Varro halfway down the hall leading to the throne room. “Have someone prepare my ship immediately.”
“And where should I have them set a course for?”
“Madrena”
The steward nodded, trying to keep his grin hidden. �
��Very good, Emperor Sergius.”
In a few hours, he would have her in his arms, and everything would be right in his world again.
…
The now familiar hum of the barrier wavered, and Azurha tightened her grip on the marble figurine of a goddess. She lay on the floor, completely still, waiting to ambush Modius when he came to check on her. He’d probably kneel beside her prone body and check to see if she was still alive. Then she’d knock him out and escape.
The door closed, and footsteps hammered in time with the beating of her heart. She almost didn’t want to hurt Modius. He seemed to be an honorable man like his father, but she needed his handprint to get past the locks and barrier. It was either knock him out and drag him through the palace until she got her freedom or kill him and cut off his hand. The latter would have been more convenient, but she’d already spilled too much blood in her life.
She flashed back to the time Cassius had sent her to kill her first victim. A man who’d been cheating on his wife, and they’d been hired to punish him for his faithlessness. Cassius must have sensed her unease over killing a person for money and had stood beside her in the shadows as they waited to ambush him. “Harden your heart, Little Rabbit,” he whispered. “Do not think too much about him. Just kill him, add your token, and then push him out of your mind. That’s the only way to survive in this business.”
I’m getting soft, she realized as she replayed Cassius’s warning. Once I get out of here and kill Pontus, I need to seriously think about retiring.
But no matter where she ended up, she’d still be haunted with what might have been with Titus.
Fool!
The footsteps stopped right behind her, and the shadow on the floor showed a man reaching for her. It was now or never. She tensed her muscles and prepared to spring on Modius.
But instead of the steward’s voice, it was Titus who asked, “Azurha, are you hurt?”
The panic in his words made her wonder if this was a dream. The figurine fell from her fingers as he rolled her over. His sun-kissed face hovered over hers, and the tension eased out of her muscles. Her body grew warm from the touch of his hands, even though he appeared to be checking her for injuries instead of caressing her like a lover.
Tangled Web Page 17
