Page 81 of Firebird
It took everything in me to keep from growling my displeasure. I downed the rest of my wine and stood. “It seems I have preparations to take care of, uncle.”
“Indeed you do. Until then.” He began loosening the belt of his tunic. “Send Jana in on your way out.”
Cringing, I gave his parting order to one of the praetorians at the parlor door. I in no way wanted to see the expression on Jana’s face when she was summoned to my uncle.
Yet again, I left the palace with haste, needing to cleanse myself of all that I still endured. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could pretend,how much longer I could keep from killing him. But I had to be sure I could survive his assassination. I had someone to protect now.
Malina. My bright firebird.
As I hefted myself into Volkan’s saddle and trotted down the drive, the realization sank in that my uncle, Ciprian, and more of their ilk would be filling my home soon, where Malina was. If I hid her away, Ciprian would make a show to point out my affections for my slave to my uncle. Only a dragon who cared too much would hide a treasure from others. My uncle knew that. So she’d have to be present, serving them.
“Son of Dis, save me,” I muttered, hurrying home.
I needed her sweet company, her soothing voice to quiet my soul, to wash away the horror of this place. And all that was yet to come.
XXIII
MALINA
Since the night Julian returned from Caesar’s palace and the news that he’d be hosting a feast under his uncle’s orders, he’d been tense and the house had been thrown into chaos. Kara had sent me, Ivo, and Stefanos to the market and the butcher multiple times a day, to fetch the freshest peaches, berries, and figs or the choicest bits of pork or the plumpest pheasants. We’d return with what she requested only for her to continue barking orders, sending us back out for fresh herbs and honey and cheese.
Under Julian’s orders, Kara had also hired two free women from alocal taberna in the plebeian neighborhood, the Aventine, to help with the cooking preparations. They’d arrived every day the last three days shortly after dawn and stayed all day, busily washing and chopping vegetables and salting meat and marinating everything in between. They’d begun cooking the meats and vegetables early this morning, the day of the feast.
When I wasn’t running an errand for Kara with Ivo and Stefanos, I was cleaning the great hall, where the atrium and fountain stood. Julian had only been home once during the day the past several days. He’d stopped when he saw me cleaning the tiles around the atrium, frowning and seemingly displeased. When he stepped forward to tell me something, one of the newly hired had walked into the room and he continued on to his bedchamber without saying a word.
He was nervous. I could feel it through the tether, tapping anxiously like a frightened heartbeat. The only time I could soothe him was at night, when the free women had gone and the house was quiet and still.
Julian was always distant and anxious. Especially after his visit with the emperor. Each night, he demanded that I sleep beside him in his bed. I’d ask what bothered him. He’d lie and say, “Nothing,” then he would hold me close until we were both asleep.
He hadn’t tried to be intimate with me, nor had I tried to kiss him. I didn’t want to reopen his wound yet again. It was finally healing properly, even while he was gone from the house all day, every day.
When I mentioned that the others in the house would know that I hadn’t slept in my bed and was sleeping in his, he’d merely said, “They should know.”
I suppose it didn’t matter. I knew what was in my heart, the fire of a red dragon’s love. I felt it kindling, burning sweetly every night that I climbed into his bed and laid my head upon his chest. He may not have said the words, but I could feel it all the same.
Last night, something remarkable happened. While Julian was asleep,he made a familiar low, purring growl deep in his chest. I knew that sound came from his dragon.
Bunica had once told me that I could use my magic for defense and for revenge, but I could also use it for love. I understood that in the way I could calm an upset sister or help my mama sleep when she was anxious, but lately, as the binding between Julian and me became tighter, more intimate, I thought maybe Bunica meant something more.
So as Julian slept on, I snuggled closer and shut my eyes, then sought the beast that lived inside him. I wound the tether that tied me to Julian around the slumbering dragon as well. His essence was immensely powerful and terribly magnificent, my magic flinching for a moment before coiling tenderly around him. Then I poured my affection and loyalty through the line.
Julian’s growl deepened, a steady thrum of pleasure. I felt a definite nuzzle along the line, and my entire body melted at the sensation. Then suddenly, the line between us rippled in a way that made me gasp. I felt a jolt, then electric power vibrating back into me.
I clenched my arm, which I had wrapped around Julian’s waist, breathing deep gulps of air as the sensation hummed through my body, speeding my pulse, until finally the sensation leveled and I could breathe evenly again. Julian never awoke, but the dragon purred like before, reveling in our connection, burning his powerful force directly through the tether into me.
No one had ever reverberated their essence back through my tether. I didn’t think anyone else could, unless I let them. But what Julian and I had was special, beyond a simple connection. It was a deeper bond.
When I fell asleep, I felt as if I were in both Julian’s arms and his dragon’s protective claws, and I didn’t want to be anywhere else.
We hadn’t spoken of anything that mattered since we’d returned—not the strange barbarian he’d encountered, not his confession that he and others were plotting to assassinate the emperor, and not our new and fragile relationship.
Nor had I even spoken of the incident when I connected with his dragon while he was sleeping. We’d never had time, and he seemed so tense readying for this feast that would host the emperor along with many other unsavory people he didn’t want in his house.
“The three of you hurry to the butcher. I want the biggest ducks he’s got,” Kara shouted to us.
The other women were chopping endives and parsnips as I asked Kara, “How many do you need?”
“Five,” she told me. “Six, if he has them. And fill at least one of those baskets to the brim with pomegranates. Fill the others with whatever is ripest.”
