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Speaking of gifts, I looked back at Lucius. “Do you like my betrothal gift?” I hoped he did. I wasn’t sure if I’d been too bold in assuming the tuberoses meant something joyful to him or not.
Gods, what if they reminded him of something he’d rather forget and that was why he’d locked all those things away in that room?
But he captured my chin and held it gently. “I absolutely love it. Thank you.” His silver eyes were sincere, burning like a cerei we’d be lighting any minute now. “And your osnat? Is it to your liking?”
I licked my bottom lip, and he traced the action with a heated glance. Now I was being the impatient one, wanting to run off with him right this second. “It is. It’s beautiful.”
“There you two are,” Ander crowed, coming up to us. “Been searching everywhere.”
“I told you they’d want to hurry up and get this part over with, Ander.” Neil stood by his side and winked at me, a drink of ale in his hands. His cheeks were red from either the warmth of the room he’d just left or from the drink.
A hush went around, and as one, we faced the cerei.
Edifah lit the long stick and held it high, then with a wide smile at us all, began to sing.
Just like the bells that rang during our wedding ceremony, the melody, one I’d heard once a year my entire life, became its own entity. The words heralded in the wakening of spring, months from now; but sung in this woman’s voice, I could hear the goodbye of Lady Winter, her sadness at finally leaving Titus. Yet underneath the melody, there was joy in Winter’s returning some day in the future.
As I listened, an image came to mind, of another woman. A woman made of ice and cold and crystal. Of tears that fell in the snow, freezing mid-fall. Her pain had been so great, her heart broken irrevocably. And not too far away, an evil far greater than anything on Titus watched her fall apart.
With a gasp, I blinked, and the present moment bled back into focus. Gods, the image had seemed so real. Was it something I’d seen in a dream?
Lucius looked down at me, his expression turning alarmed. “What is it?” he demanded.
But I shook my head slowly. “Nothing. I’m—I’m fine.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes. Just tired, I think.”
He didn’t believe me, but he let it go, eyeing me with concern.
It was time for the last line of the song, when everyone would join in. Once I started singing, the image and the visceral effect it had on me left.
“May the light shine upon the lands while Time turns its hands. Titus bright, may the Mother’s light be long,” we sang as one.
Edifah raised the still-lit stick, touching the wick high above her until it caught the flame. With a cheer, everyone clapped—slowly at first, then building to a crescendo, right as Lucius grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of home.
Chapter Three
Lucius
He could barely hold on as they entered his manor. Because of the festivities, all the servants had been dismissed for the night until late dawn, which meant he and his bride had the place to themselves. So as soon as the front door closed, Lucius was on her, pressing her up against the door.
The knot on her wedding dress was in his hands as fast as his fingers could undo it, and the satin fell to the floor. Already she was squirming with want, and her scent was driving him to ultimate madness.
Standing their naked, her tits begging to be touched, he obliged, cupping them in both hands as he took her mouth, consuming her. Their breaths filled the foyer, echoing all around them. With a growl, he undid the belt at his waist, slipped off the tunic, and threw both onto the floor with a thump. He pinched her nipples hard, pulling them, tugging them with a twist that had her gasping.
“Lucius, oh gods.”
His name on her airy moan went straight to his cock, and he quickly undid his breeches, freeing his harder-than steel length. He placed his hands under her knees, lifting her legs off the floor, and rammed himself home into her wet, tight heat.
“Fuck!” His eyes rolled back at the pleasure his taking her brought him. Never had a woman felt so good. Never had a woman strangled his control, tossing it aside like a careless thought. She was owning him, flaying him open. He reveled in it.
Her legs wrapped around him, her moans growing. He took her wrists and pinned them above her head with his hands, thrusting into her silken goodness like a starved man. A mad man. Which he was. Mad with lust, with want for her. Always wanting her.
He feared—and hoped—it would never stop.
“Lucius… Yes. Yes, right… there… ah!” She tightened around his cock and tossed her head side to side, riding out the wave of pleasure he’d given her.
