“I leave for a couple of days, and not only has the human I left in your care been assaulted, but she also escaped!” he scolded. His magic still pinned us all to the gravel, leaving us unable to move.
“What! When? How?” They looked at me in utter disbelief. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would not have believed it. She escaped on Zephyros in a storm with no saddle. She made it halfway to Tercia before I found her. I was on my way back when Draxxinar heard Zephyros’s cries for help.”
“That’s impossible. She doesn’t have any magic,” Cercies said in disbelief.
“What of Zephyros? Is she all right?” Aurelius asked, full of concern.
Titus nodded. “Zephyros was able to fly in Draxxinar’s tailwind. She made it back and is currently in the keep.”
Silence fell among the three males. They looked at one another as if holding a conversation in their minds. Questions flickered across their faces.
Then Titus released us from his magical hold. I groaned in pain and inhaled deeply, relieved to finally fill my lungs fully for the first time since his magic had pinned me to the ground.
Thunder cracked. The storm must have been moving toward Embris because the rain had begun to fall violently.
I rolled onto my back, and Titus walked over to where Draxxinar had dropped me. His amber eyes glowed in the dim glow of twilight. Rain soaked us both, drenching us to the bone within seconds.
His gaze was intense, but for the first time, he did not look at me like an object, a tool, or a servant. No. The look in his eyes was one of respect and awe, and perhaps the slightest hint of apprehension.
He held out his hand. The gesture completely caught me off guard. Was he really helping me up? I stared at his hand for a moment, then looked at him in confusion. Was this a trick? Hesitantly, I placed my hand in his, and the contact sent a shiver through both of us, quick and undeniable.
His hand felt unnaturally warm, and somewhat intimate. He pulled me to my feet, my boot slid on the gravel and I stumbled into him, colliding with his solid chest. His arms caught me; it was quick and instinctive like a reflex. I had to tilt my chin all the way up to meet his gaze.
His hold was warm and steady, and my heart fluttered far faster than it should have. His thumped hard but steady. For several moments, we simply stared at each other in the pouring rain. His expression was unreadable.
Was he feeling what I was feeling? Then again... What was I feeling?
"Would you like some privacy with your mortal pet, Titus?” Cercies taunted, breaking the moment.
Titus released me and turned his back coldly. Then he spoke to his second and third in command.
“It seems we have greatly underestimated our mortal companion. Let
us go inside. We have much to discuss, and I need a fucking drink.”
CHAPTER 15
The Terms
DELILAH
It was an odd morning, the sun rising slowly while rain trickled steadily. The spatter against the stone roof gave the private lounge an ominous edge. It sat just off the High Lord’s main-floor private quarters, chosen for discretion instead of the grand hall. It was furnished with lush, comfortable couches, granite tables, a roaring fireplace, and a fully stocked bar.
I sat on the stone ledge beside the fire with a towel draped over my shoulders, catching the drips from my wet hair. A fire sprite brought us coffee, but the three males opted for something stronger. I held the mug with both hands, desperately trying to warm up, but my shivering made it impossible to keep the cup steady enough to drink.
Titus lounged on a couch across the room. Aurelius and Cercies sat in plush, armed chairs flanking me, with a coffee table between us. I shivered violently and tried again to take a sip. Titus watched me closely. No one spoke.
He leaned forward, uncorked the bottle of liquor, and poured himself a glass of amber liquid. He tossed it back casually and set the glass down.
Then he leaned into the couch, stretching one arm along the top of the cushions, his heated gaze assessing me with intent.
I was sure he was angry with me for trying to escape, but that did not seem to be what this was. The fire in his eyes burned for an entirely different reason, one I did not yet understand.
The damp towel magically lifted from my shoulders, floated into the air, and dropped to the floor.
“Delilah, why are you wearing a sex worker outfit? I had your wardrobe stocked with hundreds of gowns,” Titus asked mockingly, though his tone almost seemed playful.
“Have you ever tried to exercise in a gown, Titus? It was my only other option,” I replied crudely.
