Cercies had saved me from the three soldiers and then, in his own way, comforted me—even though it was something he’d probably never done before.
He was lost in thought, his eyes open but not seeing. “I’ll talk to her,” I said, trying to ease his pain. “Thanks,” he replied shortly, his voice empty.
“Can you help me? … Will you teach me how to be a proper mate? How to be someone Calpurnia could… love?” he asked.
My heart broke for him. Just as he had done at Dragon’s Maw for me, it was my turn to return the favor. I comforted the General.
“Of course,” I replied softly as I sat beside him on the bed. “You teach me how to be a badass and fight, and I’ll teach
you how to be romantic and win Cal over.” “Deal,” he replied with a half grin.
“Shall I start by teaching you how to use a door?” I said playfully, gesturing to the scraps of wood on the floor. Hoping it would make him laugh.
Finally, he cracked a full grin.
“Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me. I followed her scent all through the castle, and when I finally found her… I had to have her. I don’t even remember seeing a door.” He paused. “... I’ll
make sure your room is restored to its original state in a timely manner.”
“It’s okay. I think Titus did the bulk of the damage… what was that anyway?” I asked.
The General furrowed his brows and blew out a breath. “He lost his temper,” he replied shortly with and unreadable expression. The Fae could hide their emotions with iron will. I called it theirFae face.
A typical non-answer. The Fae were experts at withholding information.
“He almost killed you, Cercies!” I scolded.
He stood and began to walk out, then turned to say, “Let’s just say that ever since you arrived here, my brother hasn’t been the same.”
Then he left.
What the hell did that mean?
I didn’t allow myself to believe the notion that Titus had feelings for me. Cercies must have meant something else by his last words. It could mean he’d been overly stressed since I arrived, or for some completely unrelated reason that only happened to coincide with my arrival—literally anything. Any other probable reason was more believable than the High Lord of Flame holding anything for me in his heart of ice and hate.
But I didn’t have the energy to ponder it further. I’d been awake for over fifty hours with nothing more than a few catnaps. I grabbed an extra pillow and blanket from my closet and headed for the loveseat in the nearby sitting room. I curled up, and finally, slumber took hold.
I didn’t recognize the room I woke up in. Its size and layout were similar to mine, but the color scheme was a blend of blues, greens, and whites. I lay in navy-blue silk sheets on an opulent four-post bed made of hand-carved black wood.
The designs engraved in the bulky posts were delicate and detailed dragons, all sizes, and species, etched in a swirling pattern.
Heavy footsteps clanked like metal on tile. A door in the unfamiliar room swung open.
I almost didn’t recognize him at first. It was Aurelius.
He wasn’t in his normal dragon-riding brown leathers. He wore a much more decorative version, complete with gold-tipped boots. On his head sat a full golden helmet that continued over his nose, with a large headpiece of dragon horns and feathers that cascaded down to the floor. Gold buckles with intricate gems replaced the usual bronze, and a long crimson cape gathered on the floor.
I’d never seen him look so… regal—radiating a power that was both terrifying and beautiful.
“You’re awake,” the Master of Dragons greeted.
“Aurelius… why am I in your bed?” I asked, my tone direct and full of concern. My heart started to race.
“I heard about the incident in your room and went to check on you. I found you asleep, half falling off the sitting-room chair,” he explained innocently.
“Oh. How did you move me without waking me up? Did you use some secret Fae levitation power or something?” I asked.
“Uh, no. I carried you. You were out cold. You even drooled on me.” He said it with impeccable posture, hands held behind his back, with a taunting smile on his face.
