by Sarra Cannon
“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 your 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’d 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.
“Azurha, answer me!”
Laughter bubbled forth from her mouth. He was here. He hadn’t been killed. She bolted up and threw her arms around him.
He barely managed to absorb the impact of her embrace and not end up sprawling on the floor next to her. A look of shock crossed his features, and few seconds passed before his arms tightened around her. “Thank the gods you’re safe. I walked in and saw you down and not moving—”
She silenced him with a kiss. All the wine in the empire couldn’t cause the head-rush his lips did. Fire spread through her limbs. She didn’t want to talk. She just wanted to feel his body next to hers, to watch the delight in his face as he made love to her.
Titus broke off the kiss and stroked her cheek. “Eager to see me?”
The arrogant tone of his voice irked her, and she released him. “I should be furious. Why did you knock me out and send me here?”
“First off, I didn’t mean to knock you out. It was an accident. My magic… slipped.”
“Slipped?” She jumped to her feet and towered over him. “Is that what you call it? You were trying to manipulate my mind.”
He wasted no time using his few extra inches of height to his advantage. “I was trying to calm you down.”
“No, you were looking for an easy way to silence me.”
Titus opened his mouth to say something, but Modius spoke before he did. “PerhapsI should return later to see if you need anything else.”
“Thank you,” they both replied.
For a moment, neither one of them spoke. Their chests rose and fell in unison, and Azurha was pretty certain her face appeared as flushed as Titus’s. By the gods, he was stubborn, perhaps more than her. But did that excuse his actions?
He was the first one to back away. The anger visibly evaporated from his face, and his hands unclenched. “I understand that you’re upset because I used my magic on you and sent you away without telling you what I was doing, but please believe me when I say it was for your own good.”
“Perhaps it’s your overly noble Deizian brain thinking for you, but I don’t need your protection, Titus. I managed just fine on my own before I met you.” She picked up the goddess figurine and placed it back in its shrine.
“So let’s talk about what you did from the time you were freed until you met me.”
She froze. She wasn’t ready to have this conversation with him. She doubted she ever could. Was there a way to casually inform him that she spent seven years killing people for money?
“More silence.” He sighed and crossed the room. “What are you hiding from me?”
“Does it matter?”
“Obviously it does, or you wouldn’t be keeping it from me.” He sank onto the sofa and rubbed his face. “I understand you’ve had a painful past—”
“Don’t begin to think you have any idea what I’ve suffered, Emperor Sergius. You’ve never so much suffered a scratch. You barely know how to handle a blade. Instead of learning to be a warrior, you buried your nose in a book.”
“Damn it, Azurha,I will not be insulted like this.”
“I know, I know, you’re the emperor.” She rolled her eyes and strolled to the balcony. “Why don’t you just punish me and order my head on a platter?”
He cursed under his breath and followed her outside. The sky still glowed turquoise from the last of the day’s light, and the distant supernova that danced across the sky each night peeked over the horizon. A stiff sea breeze ruffled his hair. He leaned on the railing and stared toward the horizon. His voice barely rose above the crashing of the waves when he said at last, “Let’s start over and see if we can have a conversation without yelling at each other.”
“Fine.” She tucked her hair behind her ear to keep it from whipping her face further. “Where do you want to begin?”
“Where we left off?”
She nodded and watched him out of the corner of her eye, waiting for him to speak first. He looked like he’d aged a decade in the last few days. Dark circles lined his eyes. New creases marred his forehead. Her heart ached for him, and she wondered how much his transformation was due to her. “I’m sorry if I made you worry about me. You shouldn’t have.”
He jerked in surprise and turned to her. “Why do you say that?”
“Because someone like you shouldn’t worry so much about someone like me, Titus. I’m just an—”
“Quit with the pitiful ‘I’m just an Alpirion’ routine. The well- being of every citizen of the empire is my concern. But you’re more than just an Alpirion to me, Azurha. I…”
The words seemed to strangle him, much to her relief. She didn’t need to hear that he loved her. Somewhere deep inside, she already knew it, and the idea was more painful than a thousand burning splinters studding her flesh.
She stared at her bracelets, seeing the scars left by her past even though the metal cuffs concealed them. “Why did you come tonight?”
“The truth?”
“I can handle it. You do not have to spare my feelings.”
He gently brushed her hair back from her face and let his fingers trail down her jaw and neck until they rested on her collarbone. “I missed you.”
She studied his face, looking for any signs of a lie, but saw only loneliness and an emotion she feared more than death. How did things end up this way? This was supposed to be her last job, the ultimate kill. The one assignment that would load her coffers so she could retire and try to live a normal life while ensuring her legendary status as an assassin. Instead, she hesitated in a moment of weakness.
She shrugged his hand away. “You’d be better off without me.”
“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 bobbeda 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.”