Page 22 of Firebird (The Fire That Binds #1)

XXI

JULIAN

I thought I was dreaming. Her slight weight was molded against my chest and my side, her drugging scent filling my nostrils. The strangest thought came to me as I stirred awake: this was how I wanted to die. With her in my arms, many years distant from now after a full life together.

Immediately afterward, reality and true fear set in. How was I going to keep her safe in Rome? There had been an ominous cloud hovering over me ever since I’d taken her from that battlefield in Gaul. The danger of losing her had become a constant obsessive thought .

That was why my dragon had been so wakeful as of late. He didn’t want to slumber beneath the man’s machinations. He wanted to strike and kill anyone who threatened her or us. Seeing as I needed to continue my charade as the compliant Conqueror for my uncle, that suddenly became a problem. The dragon didn’t want to pretend anymore. He wanted to drag her far away, where she’d be safe, and fuck the rest of the world. Let them fend for themselves.

As if divining my worries, Trajan stepped into the tent. I could see his scowl through the sheer curtain between the living quarters and the rest of the tent. He stopped right on the other side.

“Julian.”

“Enter.”

He stepped through the curtain holding a scroll, not even bothering to make a face about the woman sleeping in my arms. Since we’d known each other, I’d never had a woman sleep in my bed.

“From Rome.” He held up the scroll. “From Caesar.”

Malina instantly sat up. I had wanted to linger awhile together, but it seemed Rome would not wait. I pushed myself into a sitting position, noting my uncle’s seal, then broke it and unrolled the scroll.

My gut tightened as I read the brief missive and rolled it back up.

“What does he say?” asked Trajan, while Malina watched me with concern.

“To return to Rome at once and report on our enemy here.”

“He’s heard news from our camp.” Trajan scowled deeper.

“Of course he has. We know he has spies everywhere.”

“But you’re still injured,” objected Malina. “You shouldn’t move just yet.”

My annoyance instantly vanished. That she cared was enough to quell the anxiety about my uncle. For the moment.

“Nevertheless, we must break camp and return. Caesar wants me to return with my army.”

“What of the burn victims still too wounded?” asked Trajan .

“Have others carry them.”

Trajan clenched his jaw. Returning to Rome wounded by our enemy was a sign of defeat. Though we weren’t defeated here, we’d lost our one battle with the marauders. We’d been hit harder than expected. And by an enemy who simply vanished into thin air.

“We leave this afternoon, Trajan.”

He nodded and left to put my orders into motion, though there was also a look of concern on his face when he glanced at Malina. He didn’t have to voice it. I knew his worries already. They lived inside my flesh, my bones.

“You shouldn’t fly yet,” she protested. “What if you rip all of the sutures when you shift?”

“It’s mostly sealed. Except for that one tender place.”

She shook her head, scowling at me prettily. “That one tender place.”

She pushed out of bed and hurried to her small table, where her few tunics and linens were folded neatly. Then she started shoving the garments into the small bag she’d carried them here in.

I sat up and swiveled my legs around to plant my feet on the floor. My side stung but I didn’t feel the sutures pull. She was right though. While my wound would only be a mere scratch in dragon form, I’d break the sutures and it would need healing yet again once I transformed back.

“So strange.” I watched her busy herself, my elbows on my knees, hands clasped.

“What is?” she snapped, walking to my other bedside to pack away the medicinal salve and supplies.

“That the woman I… treasure so much can pack herself into a bag so small.”

She snorted and glared at me, then continued shoving things into the sack.

She didn’t understand the depth of my affection, how long I’d dreamed of having her. And though last night was only a kiss—a little more—it was enough to buoy hope in my heart .

“You don’t regret what you said before.”

She settled on her knees to fold the blankets that had made up her bed while we’d been here. “Before what?”

I smiled at the thought those linens had gone unused last night, my own body and bed keeping her warm instead.

“Before you kissed and ravaged me in my sickbed.”

She stopped her hurried movements and gaped at me. “I believe you were the one doing the ravaging.”

“You kissed me first,” I teased.

She shook her head as she went back to folding, her loose hair brushing along her back, refusing to answer my question.

I stood, my muscles stretching for the first time in days. A flight in dragon form would do me good. But right now, I had to set Malina straight. “Come here.”

She frowned up at me. “What? I’m packing.”

“I see what you’re doing. Stand up so I’m not talking to the back of your head. Though it is a lovely view.”

She huffed in frustration and stood before me, chin lifted, jaw clamped. I was aware that I was smiling, which only made her frown deepen.

“Do you know how often I’ve thought of you since that night I first saw you dance?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “I haven’t thought of you at all. What of it?”

I reached toward her throat and tugged the chain holding the coin I’d given her, the one my father minted to celebrate their wedding. Gripping the coin in my fist gently, I murmured, “Not at all, firebird? Not once?”

She tried to tug back but I had her fixed in place with her necklace. Those captivating eyes softened, even while I could see she wanted to deny me.

“No, I do not regret what I said or what we did,” she admitted softly .

“Then why are you so angry?”

“I’m not angry, I’m concerned.”

“About?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she snapped sarcastically, “trying to kill Caesar, being killed by Caesar.”

“We will win,” I stated emphatically, willing it to be true.

“And then what?” she asked. “There will be years, if not decades, where your new Rome is set to order. I can’t—” She bit her lip and looked away.

“Can’t what? Tell me, Malina.”

She exhaled in frustration and turned back to me. “Julian”—she gusted a breath—“you own me. I am your slave. My heart cannot want more with you while I am.”

A sickening sensation tightened low in my belly. “Then you are free. I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

She laughed. “Right now?”

“Yes. We can find some faraway place in the wilderness. Far from any Roman province.”

Her smile dimmed. “You’d leave your position as a Roman general, as next in line to the throne? You’d leave your allies floundering, your mission to—” She glanced to the side, though there was no one else in this tent, nor did I hear anyone nearby outside. “To do away with this regime. To create a new, freer Rome.”

My spirit faltered at the thought of leaving the work unfinished, at leaving my uncle in power. Of leaving the people in pain and bondage.

“If that’s what you want. I’ll take you anywhere. But I can’t leave you there alone and return here.” I couldn’t yet explain to her that it was my dragon who would forbid me abandoning her in some wilderness, leaving her without protection. I could never do that. Not now. Not even if I tried.

Her expression tightened with both frustration and anger. “No,” she added roughly. “I could never ask that. I do not want that. It would mean that all of those beneath the clawed feet of your uncle and those like him would continue to suffer. I could never be that selfish.”

I released the coin of her necklace and cupped her face, pressing my mouth to her forehead. “Then know that you are free. At any time that you would will it, I’ll fly you anywhere in the world. Any place your heart desires.”

Suddenly, she wrapped her arms firmly around my waist, pressing her cheek to my lower chest, and hugged me tightly. I wrapped her close. As a human woman, she felt so delicate and small in my arms, reminding me yet again how vulnerable she was among dragons. I clenched my jaw and held her tighter.

“Oh, Julian. I don’t want to be anywhere else.” She squeezed me around my waist. “This is where I’m meant to be.”

Cradling the back of her head with one hand and banding her waist with the other, I rocked her in my arms and pressed my lips to the crown of her dark glossy hair.

“Then we are bound together, as you said before.”

“I suppose we are,” she admitted in a whisper, her mouth muffled against my chest.

After a moment of indulging in her affection, I pulled back, sliding my palm around her nape beneath her hair and tipping her chin up with my thumb.

“I am sorry, Malina. For the plight of your people, for the death of your family, for all those who suffer beneath the yoke of Rome.” I coasted my thumb up the silken line of her jaw. “But know this. We are not all the same. There are many dragons who do not agree with my uncle and how he rules. How so many before him have ruled.”

She wrapped her small fingers around my wrist. “Then they’d better come out of hiding and stand beside you.”

“They will. They all will. When it’s time to strike.” I coasted my free hand up and down her back soothingly, keeping her body close to mine .

She smiled.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This soft Julian. I don’t recognize him. Or see him often.”

“It’s dangerous for me to be anything but the Conqueror outside this tent. Outside my home. Only for you can I be this Julian,” I whispered, bending and lowering my mouth to hers.

She tilted her mouth up, lifted onto her toes, and met me partway, our lips brushing in a soft exploration, different than our first kiss. I wanted her to know that I could be tender for her—soft. I touched my tongue lightly to hers, brushing with slow, exploring strokes. While my heart hammered in my chest, my desire yearning for more, I kept my hold gentle. I kissed her with the reverence and deep affection that I felt, wanting her to know she could trust me.

I wasn’t the brute she thought all dragons were. There were many others like me. And she was right. There would be a time—soon—when we’d all need to come out of hiding.

For now, we simply had to return to Rome, and I had to face my uncle.

After a moment, I went back to simply holding her. She pressed her cheek to my sternum, panting softly.

“Before you came, all of this was easier,” I admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“I never cared about losing my life.”

“But now you do?”

“No.” I hugged her close. “I care about losing yours.”