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When at last he’d found his release, we rested only a moment before he took me again.
Now, lying in his strong arms, cuddled in warmth and the lazy languor that making love produced, I fell blissfully asleep with him by my side, where my dreams were of blue skies and white feathers whispering in a summer wind.
Morning came. Demos was gone when I finally opened my eyes. It was cold, and I could hear the hush of snowflakes fall on the tent and the ground outside. I pulled on my thick gown, laced up my boots, and put on my cloak, ready to bear the brunt of winter. When I opened the tent flap to step outside, I was greeted by a very morose and mournful face.
Lucius.
Chapter Nineteen
Lucius
Her scent was the first thing he noticed. Like a living thing, it punched him right in the gut. He’d told her that he’d accept Demos as her mate should she choose to claim the Servant, but reality was a far cry from hypotheticals. Now that she’d chosen Demos officially, Lucius was at least comforted by the fact that it hadn’t been done in retaliation; that would have been a slap in the face.
Resigned to the undeniable proof that Demos loved her and she loved him… Well, because Lucius loved her the same—if not more—then he’d accept their bond in full.
But by Ongar, it hurt regardless.
He pushed aside the commingled scent of their joining and drank in her own scent instead. Her cheeks were rosy from sleep and from the cold air around them, and her eyes were a haunting color of both lavender and teal, a stunning combination. A mouth like a rose, lips slightly parted. Hair mussed and curling to frame the delicate structure of her heart-shaped face.
She stole his very breath. Her, the only living being who could bring him to his knees with a word, with a look.
His wife.
Had she really forgiven him? Or was she about to tell him she was done with him, right here and now, with a “I love you but I can’t” statement?
They both remained silent, however, content to just look upon the other. Or was she waiting to say goodbye and he was memorizing what she looked like before his soul’s death?
He had to break the ice. “How did you sleep?”
She let out a long sigh. “Well. Thank you.”
“Sierra—”
“Lucius, I—”
They both chuckled, but it was an uneasy sound full of wariness, nothing comfortable, nothing intimate. A laugh between strangers, which was exactly what they felt like now. Lucius wanted to take whatever it was that had brought them to this point and skewer it with a sword, but since he was the one who’d brought them here, it was his chest the sword was embedded in. His own fault.
He gestured for her to go first. “Please.”
The corners of her mouth rose just a bit. “Want to come with me to find a place to wash up?”
He blinked. That was not what he was expecting at all, and it took him a minute to gather his wits. “My tent has steaming water already waiting for your use.” Gods, that sounded like something Demos would say, something pompous and formal. Just proved how nervous Lucius really was.
“Oh, that’s perfect.” Her smile was genuine.
He felt so stupidly foolish. “Do… Can I escort you?”
She smiled, and it was like the sun rising on his darkened heart. “Please.” With her hand outstretched, Lucius swallowed. He felt like a virgin again.
He took her proffered hand as if it were a raft being thrown at him in a raging river.
When his skin made contact with hers, the touch was everything. He knew how precarious the moment was and knew he had to reel himself in so as not to overwhelm her. So he stuffed the instinct to claim her right here on the ground and howl in release as he filled her, marked her for every fucking male in this camp.
Instead, hand in hand, they walked to his tent.
Pateus was inside, gathering something from the table he had set up for council meetings, and he turned when he saw Lucius and Sierra enter. Seeing them brought a smile to his face. “Good morning. I’ll be out of your hair in just a moment. Good to see you, Lady Dega.”
“And you, Pateus.”
