Page 15 of Firebird
“No,”I practically shouted, needing to get away from him. “I’m fine. I can find my way back.”
Then I was gone, rushing down the dimly lit corridor, wishing he hadn’t dismissed Ruskus so the old man could direct me. I took a left,remembering Ruskus had taken a right at this turn. Or was it the last one? I came to the end of the corridor and had the option to go left or right, but I couldn’t remember, panting now in the quiet hallway.
“It’s right,” rumbled Julian directly behind me.
I gasped and jerked my head over my shoulder, mesmerized by his eyes glowing like a predator’s in the dark.
“Follow me, Malina.”
He stepped around and in front of me, seeming to ensure he didn’t touch me. I blew out a breath, fixating on the sound of his deep voice saying my name. I shouldn’t like it. I shouldn’t want to hear it again. Something was wrong with me.
I followed him through the maze that was his palatial home, taking in his expansive size and knowing I’d have to escape this place by stealth and with a good head start when I did. After winding back around the atrium and trickling fountain and down yet another corridor, we finally ended up at a familiar doorway.
An oil lamp now burned inside my bedchamber. I sighed with relief, thinking the gruff Ruskus wasn’t so bad.
Julian turned to me at the door. Ducking my head to avoid his piercing gaze, I swept past him. But he caught me by the arm and firmly but gently turned me to face him.
I flinched when his hand came up toward my face. He slowed his movement, but rather than touch me, he tugged the leather thong around my neck. The backs of his fingers grazed my collarbone as he pulled the coin from beneath my tunic and then held it.
“The aureus,” he whispered, seemingly to himself.
I couldn’t look at him, my breaths coming quicker at what he was seeing, what he now knew. That long ago, a foolish girl was fascinated with a centurion who gave her a coin for good luck.
“Lady Fortuna smiles on you, Malina.”
Instant rage burned inside my chest as I met his gaze. “How can you possiblysaythat?” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat,blinking back the stinging of tears. I often cried when I was angry, and I was currently fuming. “My family is dead by the hands ofyourpeople. My adopted clansmen are dead or enslaved, and now I’m to be the body slave to a general of the Roman army. Lady Fortunahatesme,” I seethed.
I didn’t even care if he decided to punish me for my insolence. I might’ve even welcomed a good beating after all that I’d lost today. How could my life possibly get any worse?
But he didn’t react with anger or a hard hand. He stared at the coin he held carefully in his long fingers, then finally let it go, setting it on the outside of my tunic. He met my gaze, completely unfazed by my fury.
“You would have died tonight,” he stated indifferently, “had I not intervened. And now you are safe here in my home.”
Huffing out a breath, I asked, “Am I safe?”
Golden eyes trailed over my face—cheeks, brow, lips—then he stared down with unwavering confidence. Dominance. “Good night, Malina.”
He turned and disappeared down the darkened hall. I shut the door—there was no lock to bolt it—then blew out the oil lamp and climbed into bed. Surprised at the comfortable pillow and the soft blanket, I tried to calm my whirling thoughts and erratically beating heart.
My hand found the aureus, clutching it tight as I had so many nights before, hoping and wishing. Somehow, my sad little heart never stopped doing both of those things, no matter how much trouble entered my life. I sniffed, slipping into a dream.
No, a memory …
“What if you’re wrong about my gift, and it never comes?”
“Patience, little Mina. I have seen it. You are an empath. Time will tell the truth of it.”
She brushed my hair as I sat cross-legged on the floor of her hut in front of the fire.
“It doesn’t matter. What good is knowing people’s emotions? I can tell you that without any gift. Papo is grouchy every minute of the day. There, see? I’m an empath.”
Bunica chuckled in that low, husky way of hers, still brushing my hair with infinite patience.
“Your grandfather isn’t grouchy all the time.”
“Pfft. When is he not?”
“When he’s in bed with me.”
