I ignored my hardening body, the instinct to press harder and go deeper. That wasn’t the way for Lela. She needed tenderness, and I would give it. Sliding my tongue along the seam of her mouth, I explored her softly, swallowing her sounds of pleasure, sucking gently on her tongue.
When I broke the kiss, my own heart racing hard as it did after battle, I tried to catch my breath, pressing my forehead to hers. When she opened her eyes, she pressed a hand to my chest. Her nails curled into the cloth of my tunic, then she flattened her palm and pushed gently to ease me back.
I stood and stepped away, still cupping her face, not wanting thismoment to end. It was soul-stirring, enchanting. Unlike anything I’d ever known.
And yet, a flicker of regret crossed her expression. She lowered her gaze and pushed me another step back, shaking her head. I instantly retreated and let her go. Then she walked away, back into the bedchamber. A sharp pang squeezed my heart at the rejection.
But I already knew this. She might not ever trust any man again. If she did, it would not be a Roman. It would not be me. A groan from the depths where my beast mourned echoed to my soul.
The fates must want to punish me. They’d chosen the most beautiful woman I’d ever met as my mate. Yet, she would never consent to be mine. As long as I could keep her safe and protected, I would be happy. I must be content enough with that.
Or at least, that’s what I told myself.
I didn’t cross through the bedchamber. I had another errand that awaited. Grandfather and the others would be expecting me. That was what I must focus on. Not the bewitching woman I could never call mine.
XVIITRAJAN
“But are you sure he can be trusted?” asked Grandfather.
“Well, no,” I answered frankly. “But what choice have we got? We must take this chance.”
“Have you heard from your son Marcellus?” I asked Appius.
“Not in a while. But I know his general keeps him busy on the front. They are aggressively attacking the uprising in Macedonia.”
“This is a good alliance,” I told all those standing around my grandfather’s foyer.
The heads of families of our alliance had greeted me when I entered—twenty total—from every house of dragon. Even the Griseo line was represented by Horatius, who was a former gladiator champion.
They’d been anxious that I hadn’t met at the planned time. I hadn’t told them I’d intended to visit the Visigoth king in Mamertine Prison, nor did I tell them how I’d gotten in without detection or killing a guard either. Though I did trust these men with my own life, I wasn’t willing to gamble Lela’s. I would keep her secrets, lest someone get the bright idea of extorting her talents for our own gain.
No one wouldeveruse Lela again. Not as long as I lived.
“So when will we break him free?” asked Horatius in his deep-barreled timbre.
I liked Horatius. As a Griseo, he was one of the lowest caste of dragons, and yet he was more honorable than the most noble patricians of Rome. He was also a man of action. As a former gladiator, he’d gained the favor of the people and was appointed to the senate as a tribune for the people.
“During Lupercalia. As we all know, Caesar will wait to execute him after the festival. That will be the most prime time to set him free.”
“Then so be it,” said Agrippa. “It’s time we moved forward. Legatus Julian’s antics set us back and got two of us killed. No offense to your friend, Trajan, but it’s true.”
I couldn’t deny it, and yet it angered me to hear anyone say it aloud.
“Even if Julian were here, he’d agree with me that we need our own legion of warriors. This is the best solution.”
“Agreed,” said Grandfather. “So we sit quiet and wait until Lupercalia. I suppose you have a plan to break him free of prison without getting your head on a pike, my boy?”
“I’m working on it. Don’t worry. I’ll have it by the time Lupercalia comes around.”
We murmured our farewells as we exited my grandfather’s house out onto the front steps of Palatine Hill. There were many moving through the torchlit street, from one house to another. A triumph encouraged many to host parties in celebration.
Eight brawny litter-bearers in black tunics carried a fine gold-painted litter with shimmering black silk drapes over the doors as we walked out onto the street. They stopped in front of Grandfather’s steps and the curtain was drawn back.
Fausta smiled from within the dark interior, the torches on Grandfather’s front walk catching her pretty face.
“Good evening, gentlemen. Enjoying the festivities of Caesar’s great triumph?”
“Indeed, my lady,” said Grandfather. “I hope you are having a fine evening as well.”
