Page 35

T heron watched as Aurora fell asleep in his arms. The gentle cadence of her breaths and the warmth of the late afternoon sun lulled him into deep relaxation. He’d never imagined Passion would dye his thread. Never could have conceived of a life like the one he now lived. He’d thought he would marry for politics, for his bloodline—for power.

His aunt and his parents had long been at odds over his eventual marriage. His aunt had instilled in him a need to find, if not a passionate love match, then at least a companionable one where emotional and sexual compatibility was given as much weight as political considerations. His parents had predictably told him that a match with a partner was about politics first and foremost, and finding someone he could respect or tolerate was a distant second. Theron hadn’t had the chance to even contemplate marriage until his rebellious kingdom’s nobles had been whipped into shape after his parents’ passings. None could be trusted but Batea and Myrina back then. Once he had the nobles eating from the palm of his hand, he’d turned his mind to marrying one of King Enalos’ daughters and refused to seek out any other. At the time it had felt like Fate was punishing him to make him wait until late in his third decade to take a wife, but it seemed She’d had other plans.

When Myrina had said Aurora was meant for him and he for her, his mind had gone numb as his whole world was turned on its head. Good kings didn’t marry for anything approaching love. Not that what he felt could be called love, surely, but it was there—a whisper of a promise, a seed of what could grow between them. Theron wanted to protect that little seed with a ferocity that surprised him. He wanted to bask in her light, her soft touch, her demanding kisses, her sighs and her smiles. He liked her, craved the way she made his blood heat, wanted more of her mischief, her laughter. Theron wanted all of her.

His wife.

His fated.

She’d gifted him with her eager surrender and fiery defiance in equal measure. He didn’t know which he craved more, but he was looking forward to finding out. Theron hadn’t expected the pleasure they’d shared. In truth, he was shocked she’d managed to take him at all. He’d thought it would be days, maybe weeks, before she could comfortably seat him. To find a woman who shared his inclinations was already rare enough—to find one he could trust was rarer still. He pet her head, her blonde hair like silk in his rough hands. He trailed a knuckle down her forehead, her nose, lips, stubborn chin, enjoying the softness of her skin. She was soft sweetness in one moment, fiery in the next, all teeth and talons. Maybe next time she would gift him another glimpse of the fierce queen, demanding and indomitable. He did so enjoy it when her claws came out.

Theron pressed a hand to the red welts she’d left on his chest. The sting was a medal of honour, the memory of her disobedience, her goading, heating his blood. How had she known that he craved her violence? He’d never before wished for scars, but he hoped she left more of her marks on him.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his rest. Theron sat up and slipped from the bed, getting back into his kilt to answer the door. When he opened it, Myrina was there. He sighed.

“Aunty, if this can wait…”

Her lips twitched as she took in the sight of him.

“Don’t be angry, I’m just playing messenger. None of your soldiers dared come up to disturb you, even though they had business with you.”

Theron ran a hand down his face.

“Now?”

Myrina shrugged. He was about to leave the room when he stopped himself. He’d promised to stay by her side while she slept.

“Tell them they can come here if they must, but that if they wake her, they’ll pay in blood.”

Myrina’s amber eyes sparkled. She kissed him on the cheek.

“I’m so happy for you, my little lion.”

Unease stole through him. Nothing this good ever lasted. He wanted to be the man Aurora seemed to see when she looked at him, but in his heart of hearts, he knew he fell far short. What if he wasn’t capable of being what she expected? Before Myrina left, he grabbed her wrist. He was a young man once again, lost and alone in a world that no longer made sense.

“Aunty, I don’t know how to be a good man.”

He didn’t know anything about being a good husband. About nurturing something worth having between a man and a woman. He’d never expected to feel more than simple respect for his future wife, provided she proved herself to be an equally good queen. Those plans had gone up in smoke the moment Aurora had been named his fated. Now he felt adrift, new responsibilities he’d never prepared for suddenly thrust upon him, just as they had been when Tisander had died. What if he failed her the same way he’d failed his brother?

Her brows knit with concern.

“My sweet boy, you’ve always been a good man.”

He shook his head. He wasn’t. He was greedy and prideful, manipulative and petty, guarded and cruel. If Aurora had had anyone in all of Trisia to look after her wellbeing, they would have warned her off him. Myrina always wanted to see him in the best light, no matter what he did. But Myrina knew of his flaws. She knew something of the horrible, cruel, calculating things he’d done as king. How could she call him a good man with a straight face?

“You know that’s not true.”

She smiled and took his hand in hers.

“Do you want to be a good man, a good husband, for her?”

Theron snuck a glance at Aurora, peaceful and trusting in sleep. His heart warmed unexpectedly. It alarmed him at the same time as it brought an ache in his chest. Love was a dangerous weakness for a king. She would be the target of all his enemies looking to destroy him. Could he really afford this feeling? If he loved, he would put a target on her back. If he loved, he could be hurt in ways he’d guarded against his whole adult life. But was it even possible to ignore it, now that they were bound? News of their union would soon be known throughout all of Trisia. If this was to work between them, to become something they treasured rather than regretted, he had to at least try—right?

“Yes,” he answered.

“Then let yourself love her. Allow her to know you, so that she can love you in turn. Be brave, my little lion. I promise the rewards are worth the risks.”

Was he even capable of the depth of trust and feeling his aunt spoke of? It always seemed like something only those less burdened with responsibility and power could indulge in. Even his parents, who had cared for each other after a fashion, had only truly loved Tisander. Just as he had. And look what good that had done them—their heartbreak had weakened their reign. Theron’s own heartbreak had been a black cloud that he carried every day, locked in a box in his heart that he tried never to open. What if something happened to Aurora?

His throat tightened at the thought. He pushed it away.

“Thank you. It’s not the answer I wanted but…thank you,” Theron sighed.

She squeezed his hand.

“I’ll let them know to attend you.”

Theron found a red tunic in the room’s wardrobe and stripped out of his kilt. Much as he loved her little marks, they were for his eyes only. No one else deserved to see the gifts she’d given him. Once he was newly attired, he sat beside Aurora on the bed, a hand on her shoulder. She shifted position, snaking her hand over his thigh, her little nails digging into him possessively. He smiled. Theron pulled the cover up to tuck it below her chin. She wouldn’t like it if strangers saw her in this state.

The moment was interrupted by Nireus, commander of his soldiers, tip-toeing into the room when he saw Theron’s scowl.

The commander bowed.

“Glory to the sun of Aureum.”

Theron cleared his throat and tipped his head at Aurora. Nireus’ dark eyes widened.

“And glory to the star of Aureum,” he added.

Theron nodded.

“What news?”

“We are ready to depart to Aureum on your command, Your Majesty.”

Aurora would need at least the rest of the day to recover from everything. And now that his people were here, he would have the funds on hand to outfit her as his queen. It was a shame that he would need to do business with the grasping merchants of Boreas, but some things couldn’t be avoided.

“Then we leave tomorrow morning. And have someone acquire the appropriate trousseau for a queen of Aureum, or at least as close to one as can be had in this cursed queendom. The gown she wore today is in the bathroom. Use it to get her measurements.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I’ve also brought correspondence from home.” Nireus presented him with several scrolls, as well as blank parchment, ink and sealing wax. “Is there anything I can do for you, Your Majesty?”

“Guard the temple. Ensure none of Flora’s minions enter. And bring food and drink to the room. Return an hour after that for the letters being sent home.”

“It will be done. Triad preserve the sun and star of Aureum.”

As he read through the letters, all more of the same, pleading for his swift return, his mind wandered. His Aunt had counselled him to reveal himself to Aurora. Was it really wise to let Aurora know him fully? To see all his flaws? Wouldn’t that just make her regret her choice? He was already playing with fire, given the existence of Batea’s serpents. As far as Aurora knew, he’d never seen her Drakon or it’s like. If she found out he’d kept them from her, she would be angry. Perhaps even angry enough not to forgive him.

A sense of disquiet settled on him. He knew it had taken the person she loved most from her. Had devastated her homeland. Had driven her to chase it across the world, no matter the danger. What chance did their nascent relationship have against the weight of her past? He didn’t like his odds.

Maybe in this case, a small lie would save her from the greater hurt. Theron dipped the quill in the ink and scratched off the most important letter of the day. One to Batea, ordering her to slay her serpents. None of them were even close in size to the beast from Aurora’s memory, or could fly, or even had the awesome destructive capabilities of the one that had nearly killed her. But it was better to be safe than sorry. He wanted to risk their relationship as much as he wanted to risk her life. If he presented their heads to Aurora when they returned to Altanus, she might be upset for a time, but by then the beasts would have been destroyed for good, and they could get on with their lives as king and queen. If he were exceptionally lucky, she might buy that he’d ordered their death the moment he’d seen Drakon through her eyes. She never needed to know how close he and his cousin had gotten to creating a beast just like it.

As for Drakon itself, he would question Batea in private about it. If it had escaped her kennels to cause trouble abroad, he needed to know how best to neutralize it, and putting that request to paper was simply too dangerous. The temples could accuse both he and Batea of being agents of chaos, and Aurora would truly never forgive him if they’d made Drakon in truth.

When the commander returned with food, drink, and another dress, this one in red and gold, as well as a sleeping gown made of silk, Theron nodded in pleasure. As Nireus retrieved the letters Theron wanted sent and saw himself out, Aurora roused.

“What time is it?” she asked, her words slurred by sleep.

“Late afternoon.”

She groaned, pulling the covers over her head. Theron pulled them back.

“Here, have something to eat, refresh yourself and then rest.”

She probably hadn’t eaten much at all, and the day had already been long and strenuous.

“Mmm,” Aurora replied, groggily sitting up.

He fed her bite-sized pieces of delicacies as she leaned on his chest, his arm around her. Skin to skin, he once again revelled in the softness of her. This felt warm, sweet, almost domestic. Was it safe to allow himself to sink into this? He’d never allowed such coziness with his past lovers. Suddenly, he was glad that this was something he and Aurora alone shared. Maybe the path towards love need not be fraught. Maybe it was filled with more tenderness than risk. As he was trying to decide if he should allow himself to like it or not, her eyes began to droop.

“Go wash up,” he urged her.

“Tyrant,” she grouched.

“But you love my tyranny.”

She growled, leaving the comfort of the bed to waddle over to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. When she came out some time later, she leaned against the doorframe. Exhaustion had left her pale. She’d been through an ordeal today, and that was before he’d bedded her senseless. It was a wonder she could stand at all. She looked down at herself, blinking owlishly.

“Where did my clothes go?”

Theron held back a snort, getting her sleeping gown and helping her into it. Dressed in gold, she looked right. His.

“Oh, there they are,” she said, plucking at the shimmery material. Aurora looked from him to the bed, to her shaking legs. “The bed is really far.”

“Then I suppose it can’t be helped,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

He picked her up in his arms. She snuggled into him.

“This is nice,” she mumbled.

As he settled her at his side, and she drifted back to sleep, he had to admit that holding her, caring for her, and luxuriating in her presence was very nice indeed. He hoped that they could have this together for many years to come.