He turned his attention to Cercies and Calpurnia.
“The handmaid? What is going on, Cercies?” Titus demanded.
Cercies, still out of breath, could not form words. Calpurnia shook in his arms from fear and shock. I could tell she was not in any state to answer Titus’s question. So, I took it upon myself to clear up the mess.
“They are fated mates,” I shouted, anger souring into disgust as the words tore themselves from my throat.
Titus spun around to look at me again. The rage in his eyes evaporated as the truth settled in and he realized what he had almost done. His eyes widened in shock, then shut. The corners of his mouth turned down, and he looked away, hiding his face. He was ashamed of his outburst.
Titus turned back to his General for confirmation.
Cercies struggled to breathe but managed to nod in response.
Titus quickly retreated. I stepped out of his path as he stormed out of my room. I didn’t chase him. I cared about him more than I wanted to admit, but that didn’t excuse what he’d done. He could wrestle with his guilt on his own. Cal came first.
I rushed to Calpurnia’s aid. She assured me she was unharmed, just shaken. Cercies caught his breath, and I brought him a glass of water, a cool towel, and his pants. I dabbed the towel against his head, and thanks to the Fae’s fast self-healing, it did not take long for him to recover. They sat together, cuddled in my blanket, as I began to assess the damage to my room.
The walls were stained with black smoke. My desk looked more like a pile of half-burned firewood, but Big Red was okay. I just wanted to make sure. There were holes in the window coverings where wandering flames had burned through the fabric. In the spot where Cercies had knelt while taking the brunt of Titus’s force remained a perfect black circle of melted stone that had already begun to reharden. I was aware of the High Lord’s power, but witnessing it firsthand confirmed its reality. The possibility of being reduced to a pile of ash at any moment during one of his unpredictable moods left me unsettled and disturbed.
A fragile, high-pitched voice questioned her mate. “What did Titus mean when he said you will never touch her...again?”
I spun around to meet Cercies’ pain-filled eyes. I had only ever spoken telepathically to dragons, and I knew I could not do the same with the Fae, but I did not need mind powers to understand what Cercies was asking of me. I never thought I would see such a mountain of a male crumble. I took a deep breath, and nodded, giving him permission to tell her the truth. I did not want her to know, but she deserved it. She deserved the truth, and as much as it was going to kill me, I could not keep this from her.Because if it were me, I would want to know I mattered enoughfor thetruth.
The General began to explain, “Calpurnia, before I even knew you existed, I was in Titus’s lounge with Delilah and Aurelius earlier this morning. We were discussing her escape. Titus wanted to share a bottle, and things got heated between the High Lord and his future mate… and it turned out that wasn’t all he wanted to share. One thing led to another, and it became clear that I had been part of something I never should have been. I feel disgusted. I feel awful for every female I ever touched before you. Now that I know what it is like to be with my fated mate, I wish I had saved myself for you. I’m sorry. I do not deserve you.”
“Cal, it was mostly Titus and Aurelius that were involved; Cercies mostly watched and maybe touched my boob a little, that’s it, I swear. Please don’t hate me, I’m so sorry, I had no idea he was your mate, I didn’t even know fated mates existed!” I pleaded.
The sparkles in her eyes shattered, like a snuffed-out candle. The twin flame that had burned so brightly only moments before flickered, then dimmed, one half left reaching for a fire that no longer answered.
“Oh,” She replied in a soft, broken voice, looking at the floor. She stood up and wrapped her naked body in the blanket.
“Calpurnia, please.” Cercies grabbed her hand to stop her from leaving, but she pulled her hand away.
“Just let me go, Cercies.” She commanded meekly, refusing to look at him.
He released her hand, and I could tell his soul had just shattered into a million little pieces. The mountain of a male reduced to dust on a crying wind. And for the first time, he looked painfully, terrifyingly mortal. There was nothing I could do but stand there and watch him collapse beneath his own avalanche.
CHAPTER 19
Prisca
TITUS
Ifled Delilah’s chambers, hiding my shaking hands in my pockets. What had I done? I nearly killed my best friend, the General of my army. I thought he was with Delilah. I saw the door broken down and assumed the worst. I thought he was forcing himself on her. I saw red. My sanity snapped, and I had never felt such fury before. My power had never felt so unchecked and limitless. My fire had never been so vicious, and the way she looked at me tore me apart, because it was how I had looked at my father, how I looked at myself, a monster.
The attack, the livestock, Folliade and his idiotic search, and Caddver had all gotten under my skin. Then I thought my best friend had gone behind my back to betray me and my future mate. It was too much. My sanity was pushed too far, my stress too high.
I paced quickly to the opposite side of the floor, toward my private quarters, seeking a retreat from the stress of the day and from what I had done. I opened my bedroom door and went straight to my private balcony for fresh air. The castle’s air still carried the weight of my outburst.
I breathed deeply and tried to calm my flaming temper, and whatever was going on with my heart. I rubbed my throbbing temples when I heard the balcony door click. The Guardians must have wanted to punish me, because my sister decided to pay me a visit. I groaned in exasperation. “What do you want?”
“Titus, we need to talk,” Prisca demanded with her usual sharp attitude, but to my surprise, she handed me a glass of whisky.
I examined the liquid carefully. “Have you come to poison me?” I asked wryly.
“Fuck off, Titus,” she snarled, then took a drink of the whisky from my reserves she had helped herself to.
I had to hand it to her; nobody had the balls to talk to me the way my older sister did. Had she actually been born with balls, she might have made a decent High Lord.
