by Sarra Cannon
She stiffened and pushed him away. “Please, don’t make this any harder than it already is.”
“Is it wrong of me to want to marry the woman I love?”
“People like us have no right to talk about love. You have your duty to the empire, and I will never be free of my past.” Her features became pinched, pained, as though someone had stabbed her in the chest. “Let’s not waste what little time we have together arguing or trying to force the issue. I will share your bed until you take a wife.”
A defiant streak flared deep within him, and his hands balled into fists. Why couldn’t he convince the one stubborn woman standing in front of him that he was right? “And if that day never comes?”
“Then you would condemn the empire to years of bloody war while your relatives fight over who gets your crown.” She tipped his chin and held his gaze. “You know as well as I do how ambitious some of them are. Until you have an heir, no one is safe. They are gathering around, waiting to pounce on your moment of weakness and destroy you.”
“Why are you telling me this? Is there something you know that I don’t?”
Her eyes widened, and she lowered her head before he could read more into her reaction. “You would do well to heed the warnings you’ve been given.”
“And I refuse to live in fear.” He spun on his heel and began pacing the small area of the floor that was free of debris. “I will not let them intimidate me.”
“I’m glad to hear that, but don’t be fooled into believing you are untouchable. You may be emperor, but you are also mortal, and I have no desire to hold your corpse in my arms.”
Her voice cracked at the end of her reply, stopping him dead in his tracks. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, letting her words sink into his mind. All this time, he’d been trying to bend her to his will when he should have been asking her why she was refusing him. “Do you love me?”
“Yes, Titus, I love you. Enough to let you go when I must.” She threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer until their lips met. Her tongue traced the seam of his mouth, and when he allowed her access, a moan rose from deep within her throat. She coaxed him deeper into the kiss, holding nothing back. He tasted her desire, her passion, her love, and his body warmed in response.
Then it was his turn to lead the tangled dance. He swept into her mouth, each sweet second of their kiss reminding him how much he’d come to love the woman in his arms. He clung to her like a dying man would his last breath, fearing what waited for him once he let go. But she seemed to sense his distress and pulled his hand to her left breast. Her strong heart beat in time with his, letting him know he wasn’t the only one affected this way, and he finally ended the kiss to gulp in a breath.
Azurha shivered in his arms. “I love you enough to let go when I must, but that doesn’t mean I have to let go anytime soon.”
“Thank the gods for that.” He pulled her dress down, exposing her bare shoulder, and kissed the smooth brown flesh. “Because I have no desire to let you go.”
She released him long enough to pull her dress over her head. He followed her lead, shedding his tunic as fast as he could without ripping it, eager to have her skin against his. Her jasmine perfume filled his nose when he pressed his lips against the hollows of her neck. His cock ached for her, throbbing in time with each playful nip, each stroke of her fingers on his body. They tumbled to the floor, and he wasted no time burying himself inside the warm, tight walls of her sex.
Her moan of pleasure nearly made him come right there. He watched her face while he moved inside her, seeing the joy play out in her expression from every stroke. There was no pretention, no guile in their joining. Just pure, honest bliss, and when he came inside her, the edges of consciousness blurred. His body pulsed with pleasure. He might never know what it felt like to be a god, but he could only imagine that it was like lying in her arms.
Chapter 21
Stupid, stubborn man, Azurha thought as she brushed a stray lock of golden hair away from Titus’s forehead. Why couldn’t he take no for an answer?
He dozed in her arms, a smile playing on his face, his head pressed against her heart. If he only knew its true nature, he wouldn’t be so comfortable with her.
She sighed and turned her attention to the clouds that raced by outside the stateroom window. She needed to have a solid plan in place before they returned to Emona. Pontus wanted Titus dead by tomorrow. That meant she either needed to reveal his plan to Titus before then and risk the punishment that would follow for her part in it, or find a way to sneak out of the palace and deal with Pontus herself. Regardless of her choice, she doubted she’d be able to spend another night in Titus’s bed, so she planned to savor the precious seconds she had with him on the flight back.
“What has you frowning, Azurha?” Titus stared up at her with concern etching lines across his face. “Do I need to make sure you’re smiling again before we land?”
She didn’t fight him when he pulled her lips to his, capturing them in a sweet kiss. Despite the lustful insinuation in his words, there was nothing heated about his actions. They were gentle, pleading, as if he could convince her to open her thoughts to him as easily as she opened her lips to his kiss. And by the gods, she wanted to open up to him, to confess all her sins. But still she held back, so terrified that one wrong word would hasten his death.
A crash sounded from the deck, and the ship jerked to a halt. Azurha broke the kiss, waited for the sinking sensation she’d had in her stomach when the ship fell from the sky earlier, but it never came. Although the ship still hovered in the air, the shouts and frantic footsteps told her they were not out of danger. “Titus, get dressed,” she said as she reached for her clothes.
Titus pulled his tunic on with the speed of a slave who realized he’d overslept and feared his master’s whip. “Stay here while I find out what’s going on.”
“If anyone should be staying put, it’s you, Your Imperial Majesty.” She shoved past him and tugged at the doors. As usual, they remained locked to her. “Unlock them so I can go out there and report back to you.”
His nostrils flared, and his hands balled into fists. “If you think I’m going to let you put yourself in harm’s way, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“We can argue about this for hours, but we both know which one of us is expendable.”
His jaw dropped. “Do you really think so little of me as to accuse me of abandoning the woman I love the moment danger arises?”
His reply stung and she cursed her sharp tongue for hurting his feelings. The longer she stayed with him, the more entangled her heart became, and guilt had chosen the worst time to cloud her mind.
She forced it down, focusing on the present danger. Another crash sounded above them, followed by an explosion. Titus dove for her and shielded her from the shower of splintered wood with his own body. Acidic smoke filled the air, burning her nostrils and filling her mouth with the taste of sulfur. Her heart pounded. This was more than just a ship malfunction. They were being attacked.
Very few men would have the audacity to attack an Imperial ship, and only one still used the ancient black powder to fuel his cannons. Rulf. The stench that filled the room bore the pirate’s signature as boldly as if he were standing there in front of them. And based on the damage the ship had suffered so far, he would be joining them in a matter of minutes.
At least Titus could recognize the impending danger, too, even if he didn’t know the culprit. Pieces of the sky appeared through the holes in the stateroom roof. He raced across the room for the sword that hung from his toppled throne. “Find a place to shield yourself. I’ll hold them off.”
His attempt to be the hero warmed the worry from her heart enough to choke her laughter. If anyone needed to hide, it was him. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. Rather than insult him, she searched the upturned room for possible weapons.
Outside, the sounds of the battle raged. The sharp chirp of the laser cannons contrasted
with the dull clang of metal swords. Rulf’s crew had already boarded the ship, which meant their time spent safely behind the locked doors was limited. For once, she thanked the gods for those annoying metal plates outside the door. No one would be able to enter unless Titus had already given them access to his private chambers.
Another explosion rocked the ship. Rulf wouldn’t let a set of locked doors keep him from getting what he wanted and she knew it. The few times he’d hired her to do his dirty work, he required an airtight alibi for when a rival or a troublesome government official needed to be taken out of the picture. The pirate had the nerve to try and pass himself off as a respectable merchant, and thanks to his reputation, very few men challenged him. This attack, though, would destroy his façade as a law-abiding citizen of the empire. Whatever prompted it must have been large enough for him to risk becoming a man with a death sentence if he succeeded.
Unless he thought he would be pardoned…
Anger churned in her gut. This game of thrones was growing out of hand. If they survived this, she was going to tell Titus everything she knew.
More of the stateroom’s ceiling had been blown away, leaving several holes large enough for a man’s leg to fit through. The cracked beams creaked under the weight of the men fighting above them. Sweat beaded on her brow as she watched the battle dance. It was just a matter of seconds before the roof gave way and allowed their attackers access to Titus.
A few feet away from her, Titus clutched his sword. It may have been metal, but his weapon was more ceremonial than practical. The soft gold edge was dull and wouldn’t last long against a battle-seasoned weapon.
His gaze never wavered from the action occurring on the deck. “I thought I told you to find someplace safe.”
“And let you have all the fun?” She tried to keep her grin from showing, but it was useless. After spending three days at the palace by the sea, she longed for a different sort of action. She had been trained for violence, and now her muscles reflexively tightened to spring on first pirate that dared enter the stateroom.
She didn’t have to wait long. A sword hacked away at the weakened roof, creating a wider hole.
Then Rulf made his grand entrance.
He jumped through the hole with his sword drawn and a dagger clenched between his teeth. The floor groaned under the weight of his impact. It had been three years since she last saw him, but little had changed other than his girth. He still wore his signature lyger skin sash across his chest, which he claimed he earned by strangling a fully grown lyger with his bare hands, a story she doubted bore any truth.
She couched behind an overturned chair and prayed he hadn’t seen her. For once, the gods didn’t mock her. Rulf’s attention remained fixed on Titus.
“Ah, Your Imperial Majesty,” he said with a sarcasm tainting his flourish. “What a great pleasure to meet you at last. I hope you’ll forgive the abrupt nature of this visit, but once you’re dead, I’m sure it won’t matter much.”
Azurha half expected Titus to show some flicker of fear, but much to his credit, he tightened his jaw and stared down the pirate. “Attacking an Imperial ship carries a death sentence, one I’ll be more than happy to see carried out.”
Rulf laughed as though a puppy had growled at him. “So, the philosopher has teeth?”
Titus shifted his stance and tightened his grip on his sword. He didn’t need to say anything else. His body testified that he was more than ready to defend himself.
With Rulf’s attention focused on Titus, Azurha rolled forward on the balls of her feet, preparing to pounce on the unsuspecting pirate from behind. Normally, her weight would have been enough to knock an average man to the ground, but Rulf was built more solidly than the mountains to the north. She may not be able to bring him to his knees, but she could at least rob him of a weapon and give Titus the upper hand.
Azurha launched herself at Rulf, reaching for the dagger in his teeth. Her hand wrapped around the hilt as she collided with him. He merely stumbled forward before tossing her to the side. Her grip held, though, and the tip of the blade sliced through the pirate’s cheek when she pried the dagger loose. She had the brief moment of satisfaction at hearing him howl out in pain before she crashed against the wall.
Stars bloomed on the edges of her vision, but she didn’t miss the scowl that darkened Rulf’s already roughened features. Blood flowed over his jaw, staining his prized lyger pelt. Then recognition flashed his eyes, and his uninjured cheek rose in a twisted grin. “Well, well, what do we have here?”
He took a step toward her, and panic choked her throat. Her head still swam from the impact. Of all the times to let her guard down and fall the wrong way. Normally, she knew her surroundings well enough to tuck and roll so she’d land relatively unscathed. She tried to make her body obey her commands, but it seemed sluggish and obstinate. Her feet refused to move under her as Rulf took another step toward her with his sword raised.
A loud crack came from behind the giant pirate, and his brown eyes rolled inward, crossing over the bridge of his nose. His sword- arm fell limp at his side, and he stumbled like a drunkard leaving a tavern at dawn. Another thwack followed, bringing Rulf to his knees and giving Azurhaa glimpse of her savior.
Titus raised the sword one more time to deliver another blow with the flat of the blade. Fury burned from his blue eyes, and the Alpirion legends of the first Deizians flashed through her mind. Gods, her people had called them. Beings that had fallen from the sun and burned bright with their magic. She’d never believed it until that moment. Titus glowed with rage, his magic creating an aura around him that both frightened her and filled her with pride. Her heart hammered.
Her lover was every inch a warrior.
But as he swung the makeshift club at Rulf, the ship rolled to the side, sending all three of them skidding across the floor, followed by an avalanche of furniture. Titus reached for her hand. Their fingers grazed each other before a heavy wooden chest slid between them, pinning Azurha against the opposite wall. The air whooshed from her lungs, and the dagger clattered to the ground. She gulped in a breath and tried to push the chest away, already painfully aware of the bruises and possible cracked ribs it had inflicted. At least now her mind seemed capable of controlling her body.
Unfortunately, the shift in the ship had given Rulf enough time to shake the cobwebs from his head. The dazed expression vanished, leaving a growling bear of a man in its wake. He wiped the blood from his cheek and pointed his sword. “So the little emperor wants to play rough, eh?”
Titus scrambled to his feet, looking ready to wrestle Rulf to the ground if needed. His eyes darted around the room, locking with hers for only a second. He was weaponless, and the best he could hope for was to dodge the pirate’s blade until he retrieved his sword.
Rulf glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t worry, little one. I’ll deal with you next. Before the day is finished, I’ll be a very rich man from the bounties you two will fetch.”
Azurha doubled her efforts to push the chest off her, ignoring the sharp pain in her ribs that made her eyes water. She refused to watch Titus die. As long as she still breathed, she’d continue to fight.
The familiar click of the locks came from the door, and relief washed over her aching muscles like a healing balm. Help had arrived. Then a sickening thud made her gut wrench. A barricade of furniture prevented the door from opening more than a few inches.
“Your Imperial Majesty,” the captain called from the other side, “are you safe?”
“Galerius, get in here now!” Titus ordered.
Panic flashed in Rulf’s eyes. The captain of the Legion was moments away from coming to the emperor’s aid. The pirate dove for Titus like a starving animal determined to kill its prey before it escaped. He rammed into Titus, and they both fell to the floor.
The metallic taste of fear filled Azurha’s mouth. Rulf’s broad chest blocked her view of his sword. She had no idea if it lay buried in her lover or not.
A scream formed in her throat, but it remained lodged there, blocking the air to her lungs. Everything around her—the Legion’s grunts as they tried to pry open the door, the twitches of movement from the two men on the floor, even the beating of her heart—seemed three times slower than normal.
Something stirred inside her. She would have called it terror, but it seemed more powerful than that. Instead of paralyzing her, it flowed through her limbs in ripples, renewing the vigor that had been drained from them. The only thing that mattered to her was Titus, and the gods have mercy on Rulf if he harmed one golden hair on her lover’s head. The strange emotion inside her intensified, rivaling the storm she felt welling up inside her whenever Titus made her come. It churned deep within her core, threatening to reach the breaking point and shatter her weak shell of a body if she didn’t release it soon.
When she pressed her weight against the chest again, she channeled that strange power into her action. The chest flew across the room as though a giant had hurled it, cracking the timbers and leaving a dent in the wall.
Rulf whipped around as she charged at him. The last thing she remembered before she tackled him was his cocky grin. The world around her turned red, as though she were looking at everything througha piece of ruby-colored glass. They tumbled across the floor, away from Titus. The strange power still pulsed through her, never losing momentum. She’d killed more times than she cared to remembered, but there was only one time that came close to this. The day she had murdered her master.
Raw hatred flowed through her fingers as they curled around Rulf’s jaw, digging in the soft fat of his jowls until they hooked the bone. Her muscles tensed. She’d performed this maneuver before, but this time, she wanted to make sure she succeeded on the first try. She gritted her teeth and jerked his head, using the momentum of their tumbling bodies to aid her. His neck snapped like a twig in her hands. The sickening crack of bone filled her ears. Rulf’s eyes bulged, and his body went limp under her.