“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” I said and straightened my shoulders. I would push on. For Varr. For the Emperor. And for the men I loved.
“Good,” the Emperor said crisply but he also patted my hand. “Now, General Rontor, we must discuss the next plan.”
I closed my eyes and let my head fall against the hard chair back. It was all I could do to hold back my groan.
Chapter Forty-Eight
After we returned to the citadel, I went upstairs to our suite with Rath and Xae. Kel went to his bedroom to change but also to pack. He had decided to move into one of the open suites on the seventh floor. He said being closer to us gave him an excuse to claim a better room.
I showered with Xae and Rath, spending a lot of time washing them, showing them how sorry I was and how much I treasured them. Once we were clean, I got to my knees and worshiped them until they were propped against the tile wall, shuddering. When they tried to reciprocate, I smiled and left them to rinse off.
They knew where I was headed, so they stayed in the bathroom long enough for me to get dressed and leave. I passed Keltyr in the hall and paused to kiss him, but he was still dirty from the battle. He said he didn't want to wash up only to get sweaty again when he carted all his things upstairs. I reminded him that he could fade since he knew the room with empty. That perked him up.
Then I went down to the fourth floor.
Standing before Taroc's door, I smoothed my blue tunic. As blue as Taroc's eyes. My eyes were a pallid blue, but the color of the tunic helped to brighten them. Huh, maybe that was why I liked blue eyes so much. I was attracted to shades of blue that I wished my eyes were.
Suddenly, the door jerked open.
I flinched.
“How long are you going to just stand there?” Taroc demanded.
“How did you know I was here?” I gaped at him.
“I heard you walk up.”
“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “May I come in?”
He grunted and left me there to head over to a small table near the window. The curtains were open, but that was the only light in the room and it was fading fast. A bottle of liquor and a half-full glass were the only things on the table. Taroc sat before them.
I closed the door behind me and went to stand at his side. “Taroc, I've been . . .”
“Sit down, Ember,” Taroc growled.
I sat down. Then I blurted, “The nightmares have been tearing me apart.”
He looked up.
“I'm terrified. Constantly.”
“Of the war?”
“No,” I made a scoffing sound. “I wish it were that.”
“Of me?”
I gave him the look that deserved.
“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “You're scared of taking more lovers.”
“Yes. That's why I said what I did. It had nothing to do with you.”
“Nothing, eh?”
“Come on,” I huffed. “You know I want you.”
Taroc, whose chair was angled out, grabbed the sides of my seat and dragged it to him. So close that my knees hit his chair and his legs bracketed mine. His breathing was deep and slow, taking in my scent as he lowered his head to mine. His eyes shone like the sea—translucent and dark. Mysterious. His scent thickened. Musky. Spicy. Male.
