His large hands squeeze mine. “I can and I will. I’ll have your brothers found, and I’ll make sure Evren is healed myself.”
Behind him, the sun is low in the sky, and for the first time in days, hope shimmers through me. My vow with Bran stipulates that I have to kill the emperor after I win my third challenge—the ultimus conquestus.
But if I never complete that challenge …
Perhaps I never have to kill the emperor.
Tiernon is still looking at me. “I don’t think you understand how dangerous Rorrik is. The fact that you can mindpath is a curiosity at the very least, a potential death sentence at worst. The moment he learned what you can do, he became a threat to your very existence.”
I chew on my lower lip, the full weight of this new power hitting me. “It’s that rare?”
He gives a sharp nod. “And the last thing you need is more of the emperor’s attention.”
Wiggling my hands free, I get to my feet. “We can’t risk Elva learning I’ve left the ludus while she still has my brothers. They need to escape as soon as they can. I’ll take my mirror with me and warn them in the morning.”
My brothers are smart, and I know they’ll have been looking for a way out. By now, Elva has likely been lulled into a false sense of security. It’s dangerous, but it’s also our best option.
Tiernon watches me, his eyes dark. When I nod my agreement, some of the tension drains from his face.
Being with him like this—away from the others—it’s stirring up all kinds of old memories. Memories of the gentle way he touched me. The way he would help me down from the branches of our oak, his handstightening for a long moment before he released me. The way he scowled at Carrick, and any other boys who stole my attention for too long.
As we grew older, my once-casual touches made his cheeks flush. And when he stroked my hair back from my face, my heart would skip a beat. Without fail, his gaze would drop to my mouth, where it lingered.
The tension soaked into all our interactions, even as I told myself that thing we wanted to happen—that thing we were both craving—could never happen.
Until the day it did.
Tiernon pulls me close. Do those memories haunt him the way they haunt me? Is he thinking about our past right now?
His nose nuzzles mine, and I breathe in his masculine scent. Slowly, gently, his thumb strokes my cheekbone, and he brushes his lips against mine in a silent request.
I sigh, my limbs turning languid. Tiernon doesn’t hesitate, deepening our kiss until our mouths fit perfectly together, the way they always have. My heart tumbles, and I bury my hands in his tunic, yanking him closer. It’s been so, so long.
I flick my tongue between his fangs, which have descended enough to make this kiss dangerous. The sting across my tongue makes me gasp, the pain sharp and fleeting. Kissing a vampire takes a certain level of skill, and I’m out of practice. Tiernon’s tongue strokes mine, closing the tiny wound instantly, and I shiver with purewant.
He lets out a rough sound, his hands pulling me even closer.
My core clenches. Gods, I’ve missed this. I’ve missedhim.
His kiss becomes tender, his sigh filled with longing. When he lifts his head, his eyes are filled with such a deep, raw sadness, I cup his cheek. He attempts a smile, his hand taking mine.
“We need to go.”
I can’t reply around the lump in my throat. So I nod, allowing him to lead me back to my room, where I grab my satchel, weapons, coin purse, and mirror.
Trailing after Tiernon, I watch avidly as he strides to one of the other bedrooms within his quarters, where he leans his body against a crack in the wall. The wall slowly swings open, and I raise my eyebrow.
“Do you know Jorah?”
Releasing my hand, he gestures for me to enter the dark corridor. “Who is Jorah?”
I study his expression, but he has tucked away any hint of the man who just touched me with so much care. “Never mind.”
Awkward silence descends as we walk down the long corridor. At least it’s awkward for me. I don’t know how he feels about everything I just told him. I don’t want to know.
Liar.
I push that little voice away and move faster. It’s eerily silent, with few aether lamps to guide the way. This corridor is unerringly narrow, forcing us to turn sideways in places to squeeze through. The walls are lined with old, dry stone that’s cracked in places, and I swear I can hear the faint sound of whispering voices.
