“I disagree.”
“What do I have to do to convince you otherwise? Do I need to tell you every sordid detail of my past?”
He took her hands in his and closed the space between them. His gaze never wavered, his expression solemn but determined. “That would be a start, but only because I want to know you better.”
Her eyes stung. He was being calm, so tender, that it made her want to forget her past and make a new future with him, as delusional as that sounded. If she had to make him hate her, she would. “Perhaps it would be better if I show you.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed a few times from the coldness of her words. “If you think you need to.”
“You’re not scared, are you?”
A few more bobs. He licked his lips. “Should I be?”
Indecision paralyzed her. She could hurt him. She could even kill him and end her misery. But could she really do that to him?
Tears burned her eyes as she remembered the sting of a whip across her own back years ago, of the humiliation from being left bound for days. Her body rebelled against her, and a sob rose in her throat. No, she couldn’t. Nor was she able to tell him about the day
she gained her freedom by spilling her master’s blood, about the blood she had continued to spill in the years that followed. She was trapped by her deeds and saw no chance at ever becoming free of them.
…
Titus waited patiently for her to open up to him, to tell him about the memories that so painfully played out across her face.
She turned away from him, her breath coming quick, unable to meet his eyes. “I can’t, Titus.”
“I can be patient.” He carried her into the bedroom, holding her in his arms until her breathing slowed.
Ever since Lucia’s death, he’d buried himself in his books, in his plans for the empire. He cut himself off from other women, afraid he’d drive them to their deaths like he had her. But when it came to Azurha, he’d found a partner who completed him, who filled the voids and made him stronger in the process. Her wounds went deeper than he first imagined, deeper than his own, and it would take more than magic to heal them. It would take love.
He no longer feared those words. “I love you, Azurha.”
She shivered against him and dug her fingers into his shoulders. Several minutes passed before she lifted her head from his chest. “You shouldn’t have said that,” she said in a quiet voice.
Titus cupped her cheeks in his hands. “I meant it, Azurha. I’ve been needing to tell you for days.”
She pushed him away and curled up into a ball beside him. “You shouldn’t love someone like me.”
A chill drifted across his skin, and he pulled the sheet over them, despite the warm ocean breeze. He cradled her body against his, savoring the heat that radiated from her skin. “Why not? You’re strong. You’re compassionate. You have more fire burning inside your soul than any person I’ve ever met. You humble me, amaze me, inspire me. I’ve never felt anything this strong for anyone before.”
She rolled further away from him, keeping her back to him. “But you know nothing about me.”
“What are you hiding that you feel you can’t share with me? Don’t you know by now that you can’t shake my love for you?”
“You’re wrong.” She sat up and released the clasp on one of the thick, gold cuffs that circled her wrists. The metal fell away, revealing the twisted scars underneath.
Titus drew in a deep breath and traced the gnarled ridge of flesh. “Tell me what happened.”
“One morning after I’d been bound for three days, another slave helped me cut the ropes. I was almost free when my master awoke.” Her voice caught, and another shiver rolled through her body. She lowered her eyes, refusing to look at him. “I couldn’t take it anymore—the cruelty, the humiliation, the torture. I slit his throat and ran away.”
Her confession hit him like a punch to his gut, forcing the air from his lungs. Marcus and Varro had been right. The woman he loved was a murderer.
And yet, as his gaze travelled from her scarred wrist to the unshed tears that glistened in the corners of her eyes, his shock faded. A protective urge flowed through his veins, and he pulled her into his arms as if he could somehow shield her from the pain of her past, even though he knew it was far too late to change it. Not even the healing powers of his magic could erase her scars. “I’m so sorry you had to experience that.”
She writhed against him, trying to break his embrace, but he held on to her. “Didn’t you hear me? I killed my master. Murdered him in cold blood and watched the life fade from his eyes.”
“And he deserved it.”
“Don’t be a fool, Titus.” She balled her hands into fists and began beating his chest. “I know the law. Slaves who murder their masters are executed immediately.”
He caught her arms and pressed her scarred wrist to his lips. “If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him myself.” He tilted her face up to his. “This doesn’t change my feelings for you.”
“You shouldn’t throw away your crown for someone used and broken like me.”
“But you’re the only woman I want.” He kissed her gently, holding back until he felt her resistance crumble. Then he deepened the kiss. He wished there was some way to convey the intensity of his emotions through something so simple, to convince her there was nothing that could shake his love for her. At last, she yielded and returned his ardor.
The embers of desire revived with each flick of her tongue, each caress. He lowered her to the mattress. “Let me make love to you, and don’t close your eyes while I do it.”
She nodded and pulled him back into her arms. Her hips rose to accept him, her sex so warm, so slick, so inviting. He slid his cock into her, sighing in pleasure. This was the meaning of bliss. Together, they moved as one, their gazes locked. The intimacy of their joining left no room for lies and deception. They were stripped bare on every level. He watched the storm of emotions swirl in her bright teal eyes—passion, pleasure, fear. The same emotions that warred deep within him.
Finally, her lips curled up into a shy smile, and he found what he sought. He saw the love shining from her eyes seconds before her body tensed under his. He allowed himself to tumble into the pleasure of his climax with her, never breaking eye contact. This time, the orgasm surpassed bodily pleasure. His soul hummed with knowing he’d found the one person he could love beyond this life, the one person who completed him in every possible way.
Azurha stroked his cheek, a smile still adorning her full lips. A trickle of her wild magic danced across his skin. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Promise you’ll stay with me?”
Her smile faded, and she closed her eyes. “You’re a dreamer, Titus.”
“And I intend to make this dream a reality.”
20
Azurha untangled her body from Titus’s arms, taking care not to wake him. The low hum of an airship outside cruelly reminded her that everything was coming to an end. For three days, they had enjoyed the seclusion the seaside palace offered them. Here, they were no longer an emperor and a former slave. They were just a man and a woman free to indulge in their every desire.
And indulge they did. He had surprised her by agreeing to play the role of her personal slave. She discovered that she liked telling him what she wanted, what she needed from him as a lover, as much as he did. It had severed the last ties that bound her to her past. She was no longer a slave, and she no longer had to submit to the will of others.
Now if only she could find the courage to tell him the rest of her secrets. So many times, the words sat poised on the tip of her tongue, ready to rush free in a tearful confession, but she still feared his reaction. He deserved to know that she’d been sent to kill him. He needed to know that Pontus wanted to usurp his crown if he wished to stop the rebellion brewing beneath him. And yet, if she told him, she wouldn’t be there to protect him when the next assassin moved in to take her place. She’d give her life to defend his, but it meant keeping her secrets with her until she’d destroyed the threat.
No wonder Cassius had always warned her not to get too close to her targets. She was becoming further ensnared in this tangled web of deceit with every touch, every kiss, every lover’s caress.
She pulled her dress over her head and peered out of a window. The airship that would take them back to Emona shimmied into place at the dock, and her chest tightened. Everything had been perfect here, but now perfect had to come to an end.
A yowl pulled her from her moping, and the lyger cub wound its way through her legs. She picked it up, cradling it in her arms like a small child. “I bet you don’t want to go back either,” she said as she tickled his stomach. “As soon as we board the ship, it’s back in the cage for you.”
“You treat him like you would a child.”
Azurha jumped at the sound and turned to find Titus lounging in the bed, watching her with a sleepy smile on his face. “He’s the closest thing to a child that I’ll ever have. People like me aren’t meant to mother babes—just beasts.”
“Nonsense. I think you would make an excellent mother. You can be very strict when needed, but underneath it all, you have a soft heart.”
The dreamy glaze in his eyes as he spoke made her pulse quicken. The last thing she needed was him wanting to sire children through her, and she silently cursed her moment of weakness the other night. If she’d never let her tears fall, he’d probably believe she was a cold-hearted killer, which wasn’t too far from the truth. “I only have a soft heart when it comes to you, Titus.”
“I don’t believe you.” He rose from the bed, not bothering to cover his naked body, and approached her. “I’ve seen the way you coddle this creature.”
He reached out to pet the lyger’s head, but the cub growled at him. Obviously, she wasn’t the only one feeling prickly at the thought of returning to the Imperial City this morning. She released the lyger cub and went out on the balcony, hoping the distance from Titus would prevent him from infecting her with his delusions of starting a family. A cool breeze stirred the salty air, sprinkling her face with mist.
He donned a robe and followed her. “What’s troubling you, Azurha?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips against her temple. “Even after your confession the other night, I have the feeling there’s still something you’re not telling me, but I will try to be patient.”
Her deadline to kill him was less than a day away, and she knew from the moment she opened the box with the rabbit’s head in it that Pontus already suspected she’d fail to complete her job. Who else would be trying to kill them? And when? They were safe here, but the moment they returned to Emona, her mind would be seeing blades around every corner. “I’m worried about you,” she said at last, never settling comfortably into his arms like she normally would.
“Why?”
“Your coronation is in two days.”
“Ah yes, accompanied by the endless stream of parties held in my honor to celebrate it. Thankfully, I’ll have you by my side to make them bearable.” He kissed her cheek and tightened his arms around her waist.
“You should be careful at these events. You never know who’s hiding in the shadows.”
“Yes, the murder at Rutilius’s party was a bit concerning. Captain Galerius has promised to make sure we have members of the Legion patrolling the events to make sure we’re safe.”
And what if the danger is standing right in front of you?
She turned to face him. “You place quite a bit of confidence in your bodyguards.”
“As I should. They have a long history of protecting the emperor and his family.”
“But I’m not part of your family, Titus. I’m not even a Deizian.”
“You have blue eyes, Azurha.”
“Which only means I’m cursed among my people.”
“And what if they mean you have Deizian blood?”
Her heart hammered. Was it just wishful thinking to believe it could be true? “There’s no way for you to prove it.”
Titus laughed. “So you think.”
“That still doesn’t change the fact that I’m a slave who murdered her master. You should be ordering my execution, not discussing my protection.”
That finally erased his mirth. The corners of his mouth tugged down. “If you ask, I can have you pardoned. No one would blame you for acting the way you did, especially if they knew what that bastard did to you.”
“Wrong. That is the way masters have treated their slaves for centuries. It started when your people enslaved the Elymanians, and they followed the same behavior when they became the masters.”
The click of the locks prevented Titus from replying, and Modius entered the room. “Your Imperial Majesty, your ship awaits.”
Azurha kept her chin held high and focused at the churning waves that crashed onto the shore below, pretending not hear when Titus whispered, “We’re not finished with this discussion.”
She eased the lyger cub into his cage, knowing it wouldn’t allow anyone else to do it, and followed Titus out to the ship. Her jaw dropped when they reach the gangplank. Her glimpse from the window didn’t do it justice. This was truly an Imperial ship, one that dwarfed any ship she’d ever seen. Rich mahogany wood encased the sides of the vessel, adorned by a gilded mix of gold and veins of bronze ore. The sail of the tall center mast flapped above them, ready to capture the wind above the clouds and augment the Deizian magic that powered the engines.
More than a score of the Legion stood guard on the top deck of the vessel, their armor gleaming in the sunlight. Their captain approached Titus and bowed. “Welcome aboard, Your Imperial Majesty.”
A line creased Titus’s brow as he surveyed his heavily-armed bodyguards. “Has something changed, Galerius?”
“I just thought I’d be prepared since we are escorting both you and,” he paused, his eyes flickering over her as though he were trying to decide what to call her, “your consort.”
What she wouldn’t give for a weapon of her own right now. Galerius didn’t need to tell her that the threats of assassination had grown more serious.
She scanned the ship’s deck as they crossed it, no longer admiring its beauty. She needed to know every flaw, every weakness that could potentially be exploited by someone in her trade. Laser cannons lined both sides, along with a trio of larger ones at the bow. Men with unmistakable Deizian blue eyes stood beside them, ready to channel their magic through the cannons at their enemies. They would work on a ship at a distance, but wouldn’t be effective if there were already enemies on board.
Titus headed straight for the cabin at the stern of the ship, Galerius firmly planted at his side. The captain pressed his hand against the familiar brass plate by the door, and the locks clicked open. Inside stood a miniature throne room filled with over a dozen men dressed in fine linen tunics and togas draped over their shoulders. She studied their faces, looking for any sign of malice, but found none.
“You had to bring them along, didn’t you?” Titus muttered to Galerius.
“They insisted,” the captain replied with a shrug.
The thick doors closed behind them with solid thud, and the engine hummed to life. She moved to the side of the room as Titus took his seat on the small throne and began listening to the requests of the men in the room. Outside the windows, the clouds danced as the ship rose high into the sky, leaving the magic of Madrena behind them.
…
By the gods, you’d think they’d at least wait until we arrived in Emona before bombarding me with business
. Titus cast a glance at Azurha, who sat in the far corner of his ship’s stateroom, pretending to play with the lyger cub. He didn’t miss the way she hung on every word his advisors spoke, her keen mind probably already processing their concerns and thinking of solutions. He’d seen his mother wear the same expression numerous times when his father discussed Imperial matters with her.
At this point, he was only half listening to his advisors. He’d lost interest when he’d learned that no advances had been made in finding the people behind his assassination order. Instead, his advisors wanted to discuss what food should be served for state dinners and if he was available to attend the launch of a new airship. All trivial things when he considered what was at stake within the empire. Annoyance coiled in his muscles as they continued to prattle on. He caught Azurha’s attention, and she raised a dark brow as if to challenge him.
“Please, enough.” The words broke free from him a bit more forcefully than intended, and his advisors jumped back. “This can wait until we land in Emona. Leave me alone until then.”
The men’s expressionless faces didn’t waver as they backed out of the stateroom with Galerius closing the door behind them as he followed them out. The firm set of the captain’s jaw told Titus he’d make sure they wouldn’t disturb him further.
“Is that what you have to deal with every morning?” Azurha asked.
“Yes, although they seem to be more anxious than usual since they haven’t had a chance to pester me in two days.” He crossed the room and offered her his hand. “Would you like to see how to fly an airship?”
She took his hand with a slight smile. “I think I have a good idea how it’s done.”
“Do you, now? Care to give me a lesson from the helm?” He opened the doors and led her outside to the empty deck.
“Testing my knowledge?”
“Possibly.” He’d been dying to test her wild magic and see if it could power the ship. All she would need to do was take the controls in her hands and channel her magic through the ore. If it worked, then he would have all the proof he needed of her Deizian blood.
He led her to the small room at the bow and pointed to the brass wheel, explaining how to make the ship move up, down, and side to side in the air. “It’s simple. Come try it.”
Her forehead furrowed. “But I’m not a Deizian. I can’t use your magic to power the ship.”
He circled behind her and urged her forward, ignoring the curious glances from the captain and the three crewmembers in the helm. He was so close to finding out what he needed to know. If he had to lie a little, he would. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. We don’t have any magic. We just focus our thoughts through the metal, and the ship responds.”
“And how is that different from magic?”
“Because there’s nothing magical about it. We just harness our mental energy through a conduit, and that fuels our ships and chariots. Even the barrier is nothing more than an energy field designed to keep the Barbarians from invading.” She didn’t seem fully convinced, so he added, “Unless you think your mind isn’t strong enough to try it.”
“Are you suggesting I’m weak-willed?” She approached the wheel and studied the half-blood Deizian captain. “Is it truly as he says?”
“Would you imply that the emperor is lying?”
Titus cleared his throat with a cough. The woman knew him too well.
She turned to Titus, and the corner of her mouth quirked up. “No, but I know when he sets his mind to something, very little will sway him.”
“If you’re scared, I can help you.” He guided her hands to the wheel, letting his linger just below hers. He focused his mind on the outside of the ship, watching it cut through the clouds like the wooden Elymanian ships did through the sea. “Just keep your thoughts fixed on flying the ship in the air.”
“Flying the ship,” she repeated. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she tightened her grip on the wheel.
When his fingers grazed her hands, he could feel the wild magic swirling inside her, gathering strength, ready to be unleashed. He had no doubt in his mind that she could do this, and he slowly let go of the wheel.
The ship glided smoothly through the air for a moment, and a victorious smile formed on his lips. He’d been right.
Then the ship lurched forward, and his stomach dropped. For a moment, he felt like he was hanging in the sky, completely weightless. Then the bow tipped down and plowed through the clouds toward the ground below. Titus smashed against Azurha, pinning her against the wheel. Shouts rang out from the deck. Sweat beaded along his forehead as they fell faster and faster from the sky.
“Focus,” he said through gritted teeth.
“I am focusing.” The high note to her voice revealed her terror.
He grabbed the wheel from her and poured his mental energy into the metal, offering a quick prayer to the gods he could right the ship before they crashed. Azurha dug her fingers into his arms, and the rush of wild magic he’d felt inside her earlier slammed into him. The ship surged up with enough force to make his knees buckle and didn’t weaken until they were safely above the clouds once again.
Seconds crept by stunned silence. Outside on the deck, the crew still clung to railings with white knuckles, but nothing matched the ashen hue of Azurha’s face. She released him and backed away, her hands trembling in front of her. “I hope you’re satisfied,” she whispered, and ran across the deck toward the stateroom.