Page 16 of Firebird (The Fire That Binds #1)

XV

JULIAN

When we landed, the first light of dawn lined the mountains in the distance. The encampment was just stirring, so I lowered onto the meadow on the far side of the trees that encircled our camp. I didn’t want to take the chance of anyone seeing that Malina rode on my back and not in my claws.

I was honest when I told her I’d kill anyone who threatened to report me if they discovered it, but I didn’t want to bring any attention to myself now.

Caesar trusted me wholly and completely. I didn’t need to give his paranoid mind any reason to doubt me. I’d managed to turn the incident with Silvanus to my advantage, proving to my uncle that it was simply my brutal nature to punish the disobedient with death that had caused me to shift into dragon form and kill my own soldier. He understood that. Thankfully, he had accepted my story and not the rumor Ciprian had relayed that I was bewitched by a slave girl.

However, if Caesar heard a second rumor that she was riding on my back—a sign that he believed meant a dragon was being submissive to a human, which can never be done—he wouldn’t believe another excuse so easily. I had to tread carefully.

Malina walked quietly beside me as I led us through the copse of trees toward the waking camp. I noticed how she purposefully avoided looking at me.

Fortunately, the chilly air during the flight had helped me manage to get my body under control. Even so, I couldn’t help but be amused how her gaze would flick to me, then quickly away. She was trying so hard not to look at my naked form.

“You can look at me if you like.”

“ What? I don’t want to look at you,” she spluttered quickly.

“You’ve been trying so hard to not look at me, you’ve probably got a stiff neck.”

“I do not!” She stopped and turned to face me. “ See. I’m looking at you.”

I stopped as well, knowing the sun was coming up behind her, giving her a good view of my body. Stubbornly, she stared only at my face, her jaw clenched tight. At first.

Straightening my shoulders, I held very still. “Look all you want, firebird.”

Then she did. She finally gave in, taking a leisurely stroll down my chest, abdomen, lower. I regretted my boldness, because her slow perusal stirred my cock to life again .

While her cheeks flamed pink, it was my shoulder that caught her interest and held it. The tattoo there in black ink. “SDCR?”

“Senatus Dracones Romanus,” I told her, turning back toward the camp. I wanted to get her inside soon, before the legions began to arrive.

“The senate and dragons of Rome,” she mused, walking at my side. “Do all Romans wear this uniting mark?”

She couldn’t filter out her disdain, and I didn’t blame her. “All military, actually.”

“I suppose it adds to your superiority.”

“It is a rite of a Roman soldier, a badge of pride, yes.”

“Pride. That’s one way to look at it.”

I nudged her toward the largest tent we were approaching from behind. The door had been constructed to face the interior of the camp.

“Romans weren’t always what we are now.”

“As long as I’ve drawn breath and at least in my parents’ time, your kind have always been the same.”

That was not a compliment. Not that I expected one.

I moved ahead of her to enter the tent first, as I heard and smelled a familiar scent inside. It was Koska, a stout Macedonian who usually tended to my tent and needs on campaigns.

He immediately stood at attention near the war table, where he’d been spreading out maps of the territory as I’d requested.

“Legatus.” He lowered his gaze. “I have made all of the accommodations you commanded.”

There was one in particular that had given Koska a moment’s pause, but only a short one, then he’d gone about to do as I asked. I’d left him late last night in order to make the journey back to Rome, knowing I’d be making the trek a third time.

I’d never arrived early to tend to my tent arrangements. It had never been important to me. But this time was different. And though Koska certainly recognized my behavior as odd, he never said a word or looked anything but conciliatory and professional.

Remembering what Malina had said, that dragons had always been the same, cut me deeper than she might know. I wanted a different Rome, a different legacy for my kind. But could I trust to tell her?

“That will be all, Koska.”

He kept his head bowed, his gaze on the ground, and hurried past without even looking at Malina. She let out a low whistle.

“Is that how I’m supposed to behave?”

“Koska is accustomed to working around temperamental military men. He is efficient and brief.”

She snorted and wandered around the room like she owned it, reminding me of the first time I caught her snooping through my books in my bedchamber. Then, she’d been afraid of me. Watching her curious nature take hold, without fear of me now, opened a bloom of warmth in my chest.

“You can put some clothes on, Legatus,” she said, staring down at a map on the table. “Am I supposed to assist you?” She swallowed hard, still observing the map, or simply avoiding looking at me.

“That won’t be necessary. Today.”

Smiling, I ducked behind the curtain that would serve as our bedchamber. Koska had done well, constructing two low beds within the chamber. Between them there was a small space with a low table and a rug beneath. The rug wasn’t of a fine weave like I had back in Rome. But I didn’t expect it. I only wanted a private space where I could keep watch over Malina at night, where we might share time together over dinner when the war talks were over. Where I might listen to her voice telling me stories of her past.

Opening my trunk, I pulled out my uniform and began to dress, needing to costume myself in all the trappings of the conqueror. Especially since I’d brought a female on a war campaign, and I’d never done that before .

I’d contemplated the risks of bringing Malina, but the thought of leaving her behind in Rome where anything could happen to her was beyond my forbearance. I needed her near me, no matter what others might think of my behavior. It wasn’t as if women weren’t often brought on campaigns to satisfy men’s urges. But it was highly uncommon for a Roman legatus, specifically me, to bring a female to war.

And still, I didn’t fucking care. Malina was mine to protect and keep safe. The only problem was how this changed my other plans with Gaius and Trajan and the others. It put a shrinking timeline on how long I could keep my new attachment a secret from my uncle. For once he caught on—and he would—he’d begin to doubt me and he’d use Malina as leverage against me. The thought sent a cold chill through my blood. Not to mention that my advantage in our plans would vanish like vapor.

“The doors are overly tall and wide,” she called, having wandered a circuit of the tent twice. I was constantly attuned to her movements. “Does that mean that soldiers wander around in half-skin often in the camp?”

There was a nervous trill to her voice that I didn’t like. I fastened my paludamentum, my red cloak signifying my rank as general, to the clasps on both shoulders, then I stepped from behind the curtain.

She turned from where she stood near the opening of the tent, her eyes widening at my appearance. A Roman in military uniform should instill fear, or at the very least disgust, in her. However, there was the hint of admiration in her gaze.

“Did you hear what I asked?” She was using bravado to hide her concern. And perhaps her surprised attraction.

“No. The men do not walk about in half-skin. But the officers will return from battle in that form, of course.”

“Why just the officers?”

“Because only Roman patricians can be officers. Only dragons. And they’ll be hot-blooded when they return from battle. You’re to always stay in this tent unless I’m accompanying you. ”

She nodded. “So what happens now?”

“I need to walk the encampment and see my soldiers. They’ll all be arriving within the hour.”

“Is that normal for a Roman general? Seems rather tedious.”

“It’s necessary since I inherited my army from an undisciplined general who had no control over his men. And since the last time most of them saw me, I’d ripped one of their own in half following a victory.” I stepped closer, forcing myself to stop within a foot of her, curling my hands into loose fists to keep from touching her. “That is not normal behavior for a general.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“I couldn’t stop my dragon from what he wanted,” I answered too easily.

Her feline green eyes never wavered from me, letting my words sink in just as she pretended to ignore them. “So you’re saying that your soldiers are undisciplined and the dregs of the Roman military?”

“I’ve culled most of the waste. The men following and assisting Silvanus at the Celtic camp have been demoted and transferred to the farthest and most remote army from Rome.”

Her mouth parted in wonder. “Truly?”

“And others who did nothing but stand by and watch or who abused the prisoners after we’d won the field in Gaul have also been replaced.”

“Won’t that bring unnecessary attention to that… incident?”

“It will remind them that I am the Coldhearted Conqueror and that my commands will be obeyed or they’ll suffer the consequences. I require discipline and order. That is something they understand.”

Her breath quickened, pupils dilating as she seemed to be considering me and my actions. What she thought of them, she didn’t say. She glanced away when I would not.

“What do I do while you’re wandering the camp?”

“Whatever you like. As long as you don’t leave this tent.”

I gestured to the low shelf behind the war table. I always had Koska supply me with a small library on campaign. The nights could be long and lonely. She seemed curious about my books back home.

“There’s plenty to read if you’re interested.” I angled my head lower, entranced by the ring of palest green around her pupils. “Can you read Latin as well as speak it?”

“Of course I can,” she snapped back, her brow furrowing. “My grandmother taught me well.” She looked over at the library of books and scrolls. “Though I’m not the devotee to philosophy that you are.”

Dipping my chin, I added, “There are plays and books of poetry as well. Koska will bring meals twice a day. We eat more sparingly on campaign.”

She shrugged. “Two Roman meals is a feast compared to what I was used to.”

My gut clenched, reminding me that she’d lived a hard life with the Celts on the run from the Romans.

“Besides,” she added, “someone recently told me to cherish what may make me stronger in difficult times.”

Her expression wasn’t mocking, almost as if she believed it. I hoped she did.

“I’ll be back before the afternoon.” I turned for the exit but stopped. “Don’t leave this tent, Malina.”

“I’m not a fool, Julian,” she said before turning to the shelves.

I pushed open the tent flap, the air chilly, and even so a hot rush flooded my veins. I couldn’t pinpoint what had caused the jarring sensation until it dawned on me how easily, how casually she’d used my name. Like we were familiar, like we were intimates.

Perhaps, that’s because we were. I knew she felt attraction for me as well as disdain. If I wanted her to understand, I’d have to be the braver one.

That meant risking my life. And I would. For her, it was a risk worth taking.