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He had to smile at that, at least. “That is true.”
She touched that smile with soothing fingers which he wanted to nibble. “Thank you. For sharing me. I know it’s going to take some getting used to but…” She let out a breath, feeling the weight of this new development. “We’ll work it out.”
He nodded. “I know.” He looked at her for a moment, his feelings all over the place. “So you really do forgive me?”
“I love you. And that love is strong enough to forgive you for lying to me. But like I said,” she swallowed, considering her words, “never lie to me again, Lucius. I may not come back to you next time.”
“There will never be a next time,” he said, desperation and fear coloring his words. “I swear to it.”
“Okay.”
He let out a breath. Standing, he held out his hand and she took it, getting to her feet. “I’ll let you get dressed. I wish we had more time but…”
“I know.” She smiled sweetly, still a bit unsure, it seemed. But he’d content himself with what she was giving him so far: a chance.
“I’ll see you at lunch.” He touched her cheek. “After that we’ll be heading north.”
“To?”
“To the Basilica.” He resisted looking at her beautiful body as the towel slipped to the floor. “But first, I have something of yours to return.” He walked over to where his saddle bag was and rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for. He walked back over to her and stood behind her. With his fingers, he lifted the heavy mass of her knotted hair, moving it aside, and secured the osnat around her neck where it belonged, then spun her around gently. “Better.”
She touched it. “How?”
“I found it in one of the fucker’s robes after I killed him.” He watched her face pale, her throat swallow. “I killed them all, Sierra. And I will kill every one of them if they continue to take what’s mine.”
It was mid-afternoon when a few of the tribes’ messengers returned with news that more men would be joining the effort. Whether they’d meet up on the way or by the time they’d arrived at the rendezvous point, it didn’t matter: he wanted all the men he could get.
Lucius felt a deep calm settle over him as he took in the Ongahri leaders around him. At the meeting two days ago back in Ghypsom City, he’d won them over to his cause: join him in recovering and destroying that gods-damned weapon hidden in the northern mountains and deal with the Owl. But when Sierra had been ransomed, the energy of the men had taken on a life of its own. Their cause now had a face: hers. She was the symbol, and Lucius couldn’t think of anyone more worthy of bolstering this war than his little dove.
His eyes sought her out and found her sitting at the foot of a tree talking with Ander. Demos, shadowing her in a defensive stance, stood next to her. Poor bastard, Lucius thought with a reluctant grin. Even though the Servant wasn’t Alpha, Lucius knew that fact meant nothing when it came to a mating. Indeed, the blue-eyed man today wasn’t anything like the man Lucius had seen back in Ordelpho. All day, Demos had worn a threatening expression, daring anyone to fuck with him, and when not giving death glares to every single man who looked at him or Sierra, his eyes were like a puppy’s, trained on his mate.
“How is that working out, Lucius?”
He turned and met Phobius’ eyes. His old friend wore a grin that spoke of understanding as he nodded in the direction where the new lovers were.
“I’ll get used to it.”
“Could be worse.” Phobius waved a lazy hand to where Fadon Trajan stood speaking to Pateus, both men in a heated discussion about winter-time roads and routes.
Fadon.
An influx of too many things, too many conflicting emotions came to mind when Lucius thought of his half-brother. But if he were honest with himself, the thought of Sierra taking on another mate with even a third of Fadon’s strength and character… well, he could see himself being resigned, even relieved with the choice.
Sierra being taken—again—had brought the crux of the matter home to Lucius. That things were only here when they were here, that they could be taken at a moment’s notice, out of his control. An omega with three of the strongest men as mates just plain made sense. Lucius despised the fact that it made sense. But if it meant never having to go through losing her again, well, he’d welcome it, albeit grudgingly.
“Is that so?” Phobius asked, surprise in his voice.
Lucius didn’t bother wondering how the man had read his mind.
He shrugged, turning back to watch as Sierra laughed at something Ander had said. “Things change, as well as priorities. Whatever it takes to see my mate safe and happy, that’s what I’ll do.
“I’m glad to hear that, Lucius.”
Something in his friend’s words had Lucius facing him once more. “Is there something other than my personal life you wish to discuss?”
His dark blue eyes turned serious. “If Fadon joins your little tribe, it will be two Houses merging, with one woman at the center. I foresee… complications there. The captain of Trajan’s armies, the second Heir to a throne, whose wife happens to be chieftain to a mighty clan like Ordelpho?”
“What’s your point, Phobius?” Lucius asked with a warning.
