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"Thank you," I wheezed to his shoulder as he held me. "Thank you for giving me this."
"I would give you everything you desire, Zira. If it were within my power to give."
Surprised by his reply, I pulled back. Meeting my eyes emotionlessly, Luther hugged me tightly. My eyes fell on the back of an Elite guard at the far end of the pool. His shoulders were tighter than those of the men around him. Hartwin. Luther was referring to Hartwin. The one thing I wanted, the one thing I couldn't have.
I meant to bite my lip, but my teeth found Luther's shoulder instead as tears cascaded down my cheeks. Groaning, Luther held me tighter. Then, realizing what I'd done, I turned my face to the arch of his thick neck. "I'm sorry, Luther. You deserve better."
Luther's thumb found my cheek wiping the tears away. "You dare not pity me, Zira. I wanted you, I desired you, I fell in love with you knowing you did not feel the same. And when the power was mine to do so, I took you and gave you no choice in the matter. It is the alignment of the stars that your will would belong to another. I will never give up trying to change that alignment until it is me who shines in the light of your soul. I know I can be the dark end of a wormhole at times; last night was a perfect example, but I have my duty, and you have your place." Lifting my face, he met my eyes with a smile. "Would it be terribly bad to admit that I really enjoyed our fight last night?"
Not surprised, I huffed. "I should have known you'd think it foreplay."
"Well, I would not go that far, but it was definitely exciting to have my ass handed to me by a woman."
"I'm pretty sure you won, Luther," I answered with a roll of my eyes.
"But, it was a victory hard sought, Zira. That makes winning much more delicious. A Cyran woman may have got a good punch in, but it would have been over within a few seconds. I also held the advantage of you being unwell and not at your peak game, which makes me curious about how last night would have gone if you were at full health?"
Unimpressed as Luther turned my loss of temper and fight for freedom into a lover's spat, I glared at him. Ignoring me, Luther ran his fingers through my wet hair as he talked, then started massaging my scalp. Moaning, I leaned into him, closing my eyes, tired all of a sudden.
"You have been a constant amazement, Zira, from the moment we met, but I have a few tricks of my own, you know." The world became dark. In the darkness, I was only vaguely aware of being lifted from the water. "Hart, get a blanket."
ChapterNineteen
"Princess," Jervaise's voice dragged me from the darkness. "Princess, you need to wake up and eat something."
Blinking my eyes open, I expected to find daylight, but other than the light from the sitting room, it was dark. "What time is it?" I moaned, sitting slowly. Outside the world was a dark grey indicating the sun had set maybe an hour ago.
"You slept through the afternoon, but I kept dinner for you. You need to wake up and eat now. Medic Nyla came to see you and told me to wake you if you slept longer than six hours."
Nodding absently, I put out my arm. Jumping his eyebrows in surprise, Jervaise studied me with a nervous look as he helped me from the bed. "He knocked me out?"
Jervaise blinked slowly. "We are taught pressure points when we become elite."
"Great," I growled. "So, every time I complain about being cooped up in the future, I can look forward to a long period of unconsciousness?"
"Princess," Jervaise sighed, leading me to the sitting room, "he knows you need to rest. He was just trying to give you what you need."
"And get me out of his hair at the same time."
Jervaise argued no more. I guess I now had a reputation of looking for a fight when I was upset about my current house arrest. All the Elite knew Luther was busy planning a war. People thought this war was about me. Frankly, if the Barbarian didn't bother about our joining and let us be, I doubt Luther would have embarked on this course of action. So, it wasn't really me he was going to war for. It was the personal insult of the assassination attempts.
"I'm just the trophy for whoever wins," my voice was quiet solemnity as we entered the sitting room. I hadn't meant to voice that last thought, but it slipped through my brain-to-mouth filter too quickly to catch.
On the opposite side of the room, Commander Stark turned his eyes to me from where he addressed his son quietly. Recognizing my mood, Hartwin sighed. "But at least someone who wants me is willing to fight for me."
It was said just as quietly, but I knew they'd both heard by the furrowed brows that creased both father and son's foreheads. Taking my arm back from Jervaise, I moved to the meals table, giving the other men in the room no more attention than they deserved. Slumping in the chair, I leaned my elbow on the table to hold my head up as I started eating.
Jervaise's eyebrows did that little jump thing again. "Are you ill, Princess? Should I call the Medic?"
Shaking my head, I took another bite reluctantly and forced myself to sit up properly. "No, I'm fine. Shouldn't the night shift be here by now?"
"They are being addressed by Prince Saboa regarding plans. Probably another half hour or so until the shift changes tonight, Princess."
"Fine. Commander Stark, Elite Hartwin."
"Princess?" Stark and Hartwin both turned to face me at my authoritative tone.
"Unless you are willing to speak so the rest of us can hear, you can go whisper in the outer quarters until shift change."
