Page 39 of Realms of Swords and Storms (Empire of Vengeance #3)

T he night air was cool against my flushed skin as Tarshi and I made our way back toward the academy.

My body still hummed with pleasure, the memory of our encounter in the olive grove sending delicious aftershocks through me with each step.

I could still feel the impression of Tarshi's teeth where he had marked my shoulder, claiming me as his mate in the Talfen way — a mark of possession that sent a thrill through me each time I thought of it. The bite had broken my skin, and would scar just as Sirrax’s bite had, though Tarshi had soothed the wound with his tongue, I would definitely need some kind of dressing before training tomorrow.

Beside me, Tarshi walked in silence, his face thoughtful in the moonlight. We had left Sirrax back at the dragon stables, both of us reluctant to part from him but aware of the necessity. If he were discovered missing, questions would be asked that none of us were prepared to answer.

"I hate leaving him there," Tarshi said suddenly, his voice low and fierce. "Caged like an animal when he's more than most humans could ever hope to be."

I squeezed his hand. "I know. I hate it too. But we don't have another option right now."

"We could free him. Take him far from here, somewhere the Empire couldn't find him."

"And go where?" I asked gently. "The Empire's reach is vast, and Sirrax is... distinctive. They would hunt us to the ends of the earth."

Tarshi's jaw tightened. "Then we fight. Now that I know what I am, what I can do—"

"One newly-awakened Talfen and one ancient one against the entire Imperial army?" I shook my head. "That's not a fight, it's suicide. And Sirrax understands that. He's playing the long game, Tarshi. Waiting for the right moment."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I know. You're right. It's just..." He glanced back toward the academy, toward the stables where Sirrax was once again wearing the collar that prevented his transformation. "I understand now what that collar means. What it takes from him. It's torture."

"It is," I agreed, the familiar guilt washing over me. "But he endures it because he believes in what we're trying to accomplish. He has faith that things will change."

Tarshi fell silent again as we continued walking. Something was troubling him beyond concern for Sirrax. I could see it in the tension of his shoulders, the slight furrow between his brows, the way his eyes wouldn't quite meet mine.

"What is it?" I asked finally, as we reached the small garden behind the sleeping quarters. "You've been quiet since we left the grove. Do you... regret what happened?"

His head snapped up, eyes widening. "No! Gods, no. How could I regret that? It was..." He trailed off, searching for words.

"Transcendent?" I offered with a small smile, remembering the intensity of our connection.

"Yes." His expression softened momentarily before the worry crept back in. "But there's something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you before, but I was afraid."

My heart stuttered in my chest. "Afraid of what?"

He guided me to a stone bench beneath a flowering arbour, the sweet scent of night blooms surrounding us. Taking both my hands in his, he finally met my gaze directly.

"Now that we're bonded—truly bonded as mates—I can't keep secrets from you. It wouldn't be right."

I steeled myself for whatever revelation was coming. "There's nothing you could tell me that would change how I feel about you, Tarshi. Nothing."

He drew a deep breath. "I've been sleeping with Septimus."

For a moment, the words didn't register. When they did, I blinked, surprise rather than anger being my first reaction. "Septimus?" I repeated. "Our Septimus?"

Tarshi nodded, watching my face carefully, clearly braced for rejection.

"How long?" I asked, my mind racing to fit this new information into what I knew of both men.

"Since before you and I... before we became intimate." He swallowed hard. "It started about three months ago. After Varin… after I… Something just... ignited between us."

I processed this, turning it over in my mind. Septimus and Tarshi. It made a strange kind of sense, though I would never have guessed it. Their personalities were so different, their backgrounds worlds apart. Yet they were both warriors, both men of deep passion and conviction.

"And it's continued? Even though Septimus hates Talfen?”

He nodded, shame flashing across his features. "I should have told you. I know that. But I was afraid of how you'd react, and then things between us became so intense, so important to me, and I was terrified of losing you."

I squeezed his hands, surprised to find I wasn't angry. A bit hurt that he hadn't trusted me with the truth, perhaps, but not angry. After all, hadn't I asked both men to accept my relationship with the other? And with Marcus before them? And now with Sirrax?

"I'm not upset that you're with Septimus," I said carefully. "It would be deeply hypocritical of me to demand exclusivity when I've asked you to accept my other relationships."

Relief flooded his face, followed quickly by a more complex emotion. "It's not just physical between us," he admitted, his voice dropping lower. "At least, not for me. I've developed... feelings for him that I've been struggling to hide."

Now that was unexpected. I studied Tarshi's face, seeing the vulnerability there, the pain. This wasn't just about sex—he genuinely cared for Septimus. Perhaps even loved him.

"Does he know how you feel?"

Tarshi's bitter laugh was answer enough. "No. And he never will. To Septimus, what we do together is something shameful, something that disgusts him even as he craves it."

"Disgusts him?" I frowned. "Why would it disgust him?"

"Because it's me." The raw hurt in Tarshi's voice made my chest ache. "He hates what I am—or what he thinks I am. A mongrel. Half-breed. Demon-touched. When we're together, it's like he's punishing himself for wanting me. And afterward, he can barely look at me."

Understanding dawned, bringing with it a surge of protective anger. "That's why he's been avoiding me? Because he's been with you and thinks you'll somehow... what? Contaminate me?"

Tarshi nodded miserably. "He said as much, once. That he was staying away from you to keep you pure, unsullied by his... transgression."

"That bastard," I muttered, anger flaring bright before I tamped it down. Getting angry at Septimus wouldn't help Tarshi right now. "Why didn't you tell him we were already together? That I clearly don't share his prejudices?"

Tarshi's gaze dropped to our joined hands.

"Several reasons. At first, I wasn't sure how he'd react.

I was worried he might hurt you with his rejection if he knew.

And later..." He hesitated, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

"I was afraid he might make you choose between us.

And I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, even if it meant sharing your affection in secret. "

My heart broke a little at the vulnerability in his confession.

I reached up, cupping his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me.

"Listen to me, Tarshi. I have loved you from the beginning—from that first day in the practice arena when you refused to be intimidated by me.

Nothing will pull us apart. Not Septimus, not the Empire, nothing.

" I stroked my thumb across his cheekbone.

"If Septimus can't handle the reality of who and what you are, and who and what I love, then as much as it would break my heart to let him go, I won't let his prejudices ruin our happiness. "

Tarshi leaned into my touch, his eyes closing briefly. When they opened again, they shimmered with unshed tears. "I don't want you to have to choose. I know you care for him deeply."

"I do," I admitted. "But love isn't about possession or exclusivity for me.

It never has been. And anyone who truly loves me has to accept that about me.

" I smiled gently. "Besides, you've accepted Sirrax in my life—in our lives—without hesitation.

You've embraced a part of yourself that terrified you because you trusted me.

That kind of courage, that kind of love, deserves the same in return. "

He kissed me then, a desperate, grateful kiss that spoke volumes about his relief. When we parted, I could still see the sadness lingering in his eyes—not for us, but for what he believed he could never have with Septimus.

"We should tell him," I said decisively. "About us.”

Tarshi recoiled as if I’d struck him. “Tell him? Livia, no. He’ll be disgusted. He’ll hate me even more for… for tainting you.”

“He doesn’t get to decide who I am or who I love,” I countered, my voice hardening.

“And he certainly doesn’t get to make you feel like you’re some kind of disease.

Secrets are poison, Tarshi. They’re what’s allowing him to treat you this way, to keep you in the shadows while he tortures himself with guilt. I won’t have it.”

“But what if he leaves?” Tarshi asked, his voice barely a whisper. “What if he can’t accept it and walks away from you? I couldn’t bear to be the reason for that.”

I sighed, my anger at Septimus softening into sorrow for them both.

“Then he leaves,” I said gently. “His prejudice is a cage, Tarshi. One he’s locked himself in.

But I will not let him lock you in there with him.

You are Talfen. You are my mate. You are magnificent.

And you will not hide one single part of who you are, not for him, not for anyone. ”

I stood, pulling him to his feet. The wound on my shoulder throbbed, a dull ache that anchored me to the reality of the night, to the bonds that had been forged.