Page 17 of Kingdom of Darkness and Dragons (Empire of Vengeance #4)
" T hey're alive."
The words hung in the air like a blessing from the gods, and I felt something tight in my chest finally loosen. My hands trembled as I held the letter, reading the precious words again to make sure I hadn't imagined them.
A soft knock at the door interrupted my tears of relief.
"Livia? Are you ready for evenmeal?"
Jalend. I quickly wiped my eyes, though I couldn't stop smiling. "Come in!"
He entered cautiously, his scholar's robes neat and perfectly arranged as always.
His dark eyes immediately found mine, then flicked nervously to Marcus and Antonius.
I could see him taking in their size—both men were imposing even when relaxed, their gladiator builds obvious despite their casual clothes.
"Good evening," Jalend said politely, inclining his head to them both.
"Evening," Marcus replied easily, but I caught the way he was studying Jalend with curious eyes. Antonius simply nodded, though I noticed him straightening slightly, as if presenting himself for inspection.
Jalend's gaze returned to me, concern creasing his brow. "You've been crying. What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," I said, unable to keep the joy from my voice. "Everything's wonderful. They're alive, Jalend. Tarshi and Septimus—they're alive."
His face immediately softened with relief. "That's incredible news. I know how worried you've been."
I looked down at the letter again, my heart swelling as I read Mira's careful script aloud.
"She says they were badly hurt in the bombing, but she managed to get them out of the city that night.
They've been hidden in a Talfen settlement somewhere—she won't say where, in case this letter goes astray—but once they've healed properly, she's sure they'll make their way back to me. "
"That's amazing," Jalend said, and the genuine warmth in his voice made my heart flutter. He understood what this meant to me, how these men weren't just fellow resistance members but family in every way that mattered.
The relief and happiness bubbling up inside me was too much to contain. Before I could think about it, I launched myself at Jalend, throwing my arms around his neck in pure jubilation. He caught me with a startled laugh, his arms coming around my waist to steady us both.
"They're alive," I whispered against his ear, and felt him squeeze me tighter.
But my joy demanded more expression. I pulled back from Jalend and spun toward Antonius, who was watching with that soft smile he got when he thought I wasn't looking. Without hesitation, I flung myself at him next, and his massive arms encircled me like I was something precious and fragile.
"Did you hear?" I asked breathlessly, tilting my head back to look up at him. "They're safe. They're alive and safe."
"I heard," he said quietly, his deep voice rough with emotion. His dark eyes were so warm, so full of affection, and something else I'd been too afraid to name. "I'm so happy for you, Livia."
In that moment, overwhelmed by relief and joy and the way he was looking at me like I hung the moon, I did something I'd been wanting to do for months. I rose up on my toes and kissed him.
It was meant to be a quick press of lips, a celebration between friends.
But the moment our mouths met, everything changed.
Antonius went rigid with shock, his breath catching audibly, his hands tightening on my waist with enough force that I could feel the tremor in his fingers.
For a heartbeat, I thought I'd made a terrible mistake—that I'd misread everything and destroyed our friendship in one impulsive moment.
Then he pulled back just enough to look down at me, his dark eyes searching my face with an intensity that made my breath catch.
I could see the war playing out in his expression—surprise, longing, and something that looked almost like disbelief.
Whatever he found in my face must have been the permission he was looking for, because his pupils dilated and he drew me back into his arms with a reverence that made my knees weak.
This kiss was nothing like the gentle peck I'd initiated.
This was deep and thorough and desperate, months of suppressed longing poured into the connection between us.
His lips were warm and sure against mine, moving with a hunger that sent heat spiralling through my entire body.
One large hand tangled in my hair, his fingers threading through the strands like he was memorizing their texture, while the other pressed against the small of my back, holding me against the solid wall of his chest like he was afraid I might disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly.
I melted into him, my hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt as I kissed him back with equal fervour.
He tasted like wine and something uniquely him, and when his tongue traced the seam of my lips, I opened for him without hesitation.
The sound he made—somewhere between a groan and a sigh—sent shivers down my spine, and I felt him press closer, eliminating even the whisper of space between our bodies.
Time seemed to stop. There was nothing but the warmth of his mouth, the strength of his arms around me, the way my heart was hammering against my ribs so hard I was sure he could feel it through our clothes.
When his thumb traced along my jaw with infinite gentleness, contrasting beautifully with the intensity of his kiss, I made a soft sound that seemed to undo him completely.
When we finally broke apart, both of us breathing hard, I was breathless and dizzy, my heart racing for entirely different reasons than it had been moments before.
His forehead rested against mine, and I could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, could see the wonder in his eyes as he looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time.
"About bloody time," Marcus said grinning, and I heard Jalend let out a quiet laugh.
I felt heat flood my cheeks as I looked up at Antonius, who was grinning with an expression I'd never seen before—shy and pleased and almost boyish despite his intimidating size.
"I..." I started, then realized I had no idea what to say. How did you explain that a moment of celebration had just shifted everything you thought you knew about your own heart?
"Good?" he asked quietly, and the uncertainty in his voice made my chest tight.
"Very good," I managed, which made his grin widen.
Marcus cleared his throat, and I turned to find him looking between the three men with obvious amusement. "So," he said casually, "are we going down to evenmeal, or would you all prefer to stay here and... sate your hunger another way?"
My mouth dropped open and I stared at him. My hand flew to my mouth, a useless gesture to hide the blush that was scorching my entire face. Marcus’s grin was positively wicked, his eyes dancing with a mirth that told me he was enjoying my discomfort far too much.
“Marcus!” I hissed, my face burning. I was still trying to catch my breath, my lips tingling from the force of Antonius’s kiss.
I looked from his laughing face to Jalend, expecting to see a flicker of jealousy, of the possessive anger I’d witnessed before.
Instead, he was watching us with a quiet, knowing smile, his head tilted in contemplation.
His dark eyes met mine, and in their depths, I saw no anger, only a deep, abiding affection that seemed to encompass not just me, but the entire room.
It was an acceptance so profound it stole the air from my lungs.
“I think,” Jalend said, his voice a low, smooth counterpoint to Marcus’s boisterous teasing, “that evenmeal can wait.” He pushed off from where he'd been leaning against the doorframe, his gaze never leaving mine. “We have much to celebrate. And,” he added, his smile turning wry, “much to discuss.”
He stopped beside Antonius, his hand coming to rest on my free arm, his touch a familiar, grounding warmth.
The two men flanked me, a scholar and a gladiator, their combined presence an overwhelming force.
Three men. My men. All here, all looking at me with a mixture of love and want and a startling lack of rivalry.
The air crackled with it, a tangible thing that made the hairs on my arms stand up.
Antonius’s thumb stroked my back, a slow, possessive circle, while Jalend’s fingers tightened gently on my arm.
The world had shifted on its axis, and I was at the very centre of its new gravity.
Marcus let out a low whistle. “Well,” he said, his teasing tone softening into something more genuine. “This should be interesting.”
Antonius, who had been silent beside me, cleared his throat. He looked from Jalend to Marcus, then down at me, his hand still resting possessively on the small of my back. “I could eat,” he murmured, his thumb stroking my skin through the fabric of my dress. The simple touch was electric.
The double meaning in his words hung in the air, thick and heavy with want. A shiver traced its way down my spine, and I had to fight the urge to lean back into the solid warmth of him. His touch was a brand, claiming me in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
Jalend’s hand slid from my arm to the nape of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair as he gently tilted my head back. “I believe,” he said, his voice a low purr that vibrated through me, “that Antonius is not the only one with an appetite.”
His eyes held mine, dark and intense. There was no jealousy there, only a shared, possessive hunger that mirrored the look in Antonius’s eyes. I was standing between them, a willing captive, my body thrumming with a desire so overwhelming it was dizzying.