Page 72 of Firebird
I was still here, and I’d risk my life to make her prophecy come true. I’d do it all by myself if I had to. Yet, I knew I wouldn’t have to. I wasn’t alone anymore. I had Julian, and the allies he trusted. For the first time in so many years, hope stirred like a fluttering bird trying to finally take flight.
“I promise, Bunica,” I swore up to the sky and to any gods who might be listening.
XX
MALINA
Those Roman soldiers who’d been injured by the smoke and fire—and had not died trapped beneath nets—were mostly recovered, according to Trajan. Julian had been the only Roman physically attacked by one of the barbarians face-to-face besides the standard bearer, who hadn’t survived his injuries.
Trajan informed me that their scouts had found no trace at all of any of them camping nearby. They’d truly vanished this time. And while the remaining soldiers had begun to pack, they still awaited their general’s recovery. None would leave without him.
Julian had slept most of the day, the color returning to his face. It was near sunset, and yet he slept on. But there’d been no more fever and last I changed his bandages, the wound seemed to be healing well. Trajan said that was due to his dragon blood and my good nursing skills.
I lit a second oil lamp as the tent darkened with the setting sun outside and sat beside Julian on his bed. He was no longer feverish, but I liked wiping his brow with a cool cloth.
Over the past week, I’d had many opportunities to observe him closely. As he lay quietly, his eyes closed and not bewitching me, I could look all I liked.
Right now, for example, I observed that his harsh features—his blade-like jaw, his sharp cheekbones, his long slash of a nose—appeared more beguiling on close observation. And his mouth. Soft lips that made me wonder and imagine, that made me reach out and touch them.
I trailed my fingertip along his lower lip, then leaned in closer, easing my weight onto my other elbow and stretching my legs down the bed. Settled closer, I went back to my inspection, drawing a line with my fingertip along that sharp jaw and over his brow.
He wasn’t scary at all. Not to me. He was utterly beautiful. I was in the process of grazing my fingertip along his cheek when those golden eyes slid open.
I froze, holding his gaze as I continued my tactile exploration, reaching his mouth yet again. His lips parted when I went back to tracing his lips, his breath hot on my fingertips, my gaze fixated on his mouth.
He said not a word, nor did I, both of us afraid to break the spell we were under.
I wish I could say I hated him from the start, from that moment he snatched me off the battlefield from my Celtic clan. I should’ve loathed him. But I never had.
The Romans, his dragonkind, yes. I’d always hated them. But Julian, he’d been set apart. Ever since that night he wandered into ourtraveling troupe as a centurion, since he watched me dance and gave me a coin for good fortune.
I grazed my fingertips along his jaw to his throat, where his pulse beat furiously.
“I’m your treasure, the gods have said?” I whispered, wondering, if I spoke it too loudly, if the gods might hear and refute my declaration. But I wasn’t listening to the gods now.
I trailed my fingers lightly across his prominent brow and back along his jaw.
“I care not what they say, for what I feel is all my own. Not forced or given to me by the fates or anyone else. It comes from my own soul.”
The witch inside me may have luxuriated in the maddening desire Julian sparked, but this feeling went deeper than my magic. It was my own will guiding me now, speaking a truth I could no longer hold inside myself.
“I can finally confess to you,” I murmured, stilling my hand where it cupped his jaw, my thumb settling at the corner of his wide mouth, “that you are my treasure too.”
Julian lay perfectly still, not speaking a word, watching me with that otherworldly gaze burning bright hot like the summer sun.
Gripping his shoulder, I shifted my weight up, leaning across his chest, then lowered my head carefully. He waited, still as stone. Until I brushed my lips against his.
His giant hand cupped the back of my skull as he groaned and swept his tongue into my mouth. This kiss morphed quickly from slow and tentative to hot need. He nipped and licked and ate my mouth hungrily. When I made a soft sound of pleasure, he rolled me beneath him and pressed my body into the mattress.
It was divine. He made sure not to crush me but wedged his glorious weight between my open legs. His free hand slid underneath my tunic, bending my leg and gripping my thigh to make room for his body to settle more deliciously.
“Malina,” he groaned, nipping along my jaw and down my throat.
I speared my hands into his short hair, scraping my blunt nails along his scalp, arching my neck so he could lick and kiss me to his heart’s content.
Desire sizzled through my blood. I rocked my hips up, feeling his hard cock press sweetly at my core. Only a tangled sheet and my thin tunic separated us.
His mouth was back on mine, delving, sucking, biting, bruising my lips as I moaned, “More.”
