Chapter Twenty-Six
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Julia woke alone a few hours later. There was food in the guesthouse—a loaf of bread warm from the oven, honey, and sweet wine—and she devoured everything.
Outside the guest hut, the sun was high. She’d slept until afternoon.
She stepped outside and breathed in the air. It still tasted of fire. She felt Alaric approach before she saw him; the earth shook and Hannibal loomed before her, his hooves splitting the ground, Alaric astride in his battle-torn cloak. He halted before her, a slow, wild grin playing across his mouth, beautiful enough to wreck her world.
“Come with me.” He held out a hand. “I owe you an apology, Julia.”
* * *
Golden light sliced through the trees as they galloped into a field of flowers. Alaric let Hannibal run and then slowed to an easy amble.
It was so large up here, Julia thought as her gaze followed a bird circling high among a rise of black spires. She had lived all her life in cities and palaces, hemmed in and carefully constrained. She felt both exhilarated and unsettled under such a huge sky.
“That’s an ibex.” Alaric pointed far up a mountain slope. “They’re rare here.”
Julia squinted. “How can you tell it’s not a rock?”
“Because of the giant horns.” The man had eyes like a hawk. “That bird above it is a vulture. No doubt it found a meal up on that slope.”
He knew the names of all the wildlife in these hills, and could tell a kite from a merlin on sight. The heat of Alaric’s body surrounded her, one arm slung around her waist as he guided the horse one-handed through meadows of waving grass lit to gold by the blazing sun. It felt so good—the drugging heat of his body pressed close to hers, the strength of his arms around her, and the fluid power of the horse.
This was a seduction, as masterful as any she’d seen.
The path dropped and ran along a cliff. Alaric whispered in her ear. “Feel like a gallop?”
“A gallop ?” Julia eyed the cliff edge. “Are you mad?”
But Hannibal was already leaping forward, Alaric’s arm closing around her like steel as the speed threw her back against his chest. Julia gripped the pommel as Hannibal’s great body stretched out beneath them, the gulf dropping beside her. Ahead she saw eagles rising, circling up to a world far above. For a moment Julia believed they too were flying. Fast in the wake of the eagles.
* * *
The meadow was breathtaking. The sun flung its light across the grass, making each blade glitter. Not ten paces before her a cliff dropped off, the whole of the wild, shining campagna below.
Julia wrapped Alaric’s cloak around herself as she walked closer to the edge of the cliff. The gulf was irresistible, and for an instant she stared at the shreds of cloud drifting far below. She’d never been so high in her life. A frightened thrill shot through her.
“Don’t get so close, Julia.”
Alaric was sitting in the grass behind her, long legs stretched in front of him, while Hannibal grazed peacefully nearby. He was watching her intently, as if she was the most precious thing in the world. A terrifying mix of longing and fear. Julia felt suddenly shy.
“Why did you bring me here?”
“I owe you an apology.”
He was so serious . Julia gave him a light, teasing smile. “I suppose you do,” she mused. “If only for your outrageous behavior at parties. At the first one we attended together, you put a knife to my neck. And at the second, you threw axes at my head—”
He roared with laughter. “You asked me to kidnap you. You handed me the knife.” She wanted to sink into that laugh, wrap herself in it forever.
“You certainly seem capable of civil behavior when it comes to Brisca .” But her lips curved in a teasing smile. “But your seat was above hers at the party. I rather think that’s outrageous, considering this is her territory. Will you ever set a woman above you, Alaric of the Goths?”
“Only time will tell about that.” He rose to his feet and closed the distance between them. “But you are right. I have treated you badly,” he said. “I would make up for it now.”
Julia stared up at him, struck utterly silent by the raw tenderness in his voice. “Do you know what my problem with you is?” she asked quietly. “I honestly can’t tell whether you are the most earnest person I have ever met, or the most manipulative.” For an instant his eyes held hers. Sun-warmed sea. Endless blue summer. A wide, inviting path to ruin and rending death, and Julia saw herself skipping right down it like a fool. “Well? Are you going to apologize?”
His gaze lifted to a spot behind her. “This is my apology.”
Julia glanced behind to see an eagle spiraling down toward the cliff, the sun glinting off each individual feather. It descended in an effortless spiral. “What on earth—”
“They nest in the cliffs below. They return to the same place every year, so I’m told.”
This close, she could see how the wind buffeted its wings. What courage it must take, that first time, to spread their wings wide and believe that the air itself would catch them.
Julia glanced up at Alaric, and for a moment the stark, sunlit beauty of his profile made her catch her breath. He was of this place, just as harsh and spectacular.
He glanced down at her. “I had another reason for bringing you here. We must speak of your future.”
Julia tensed. Suddenly she knew what he was going to say—that he’d changed his mind about sending her back. He must send her back—despite his promises, someday it would come down to her or his homeland. She was under no illusions about which he would choose.
Her heart was already broken. It didn’t need to break more. “I don’t want to talk.”
“Don’t be stubborn, Julia.” He turned her to face him. “There are things between us that must be understood.”
“Alaric.” She laid her fingers on the side of his cheek. “I mean it. Stop talking.”
And then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.
For a moment he tensed and she thought he might resist her. But then he hauled her to him and kissed her back with a fierce desperation that swept away every thought she’d had. Julia lost herself in a fury of hungry, open-mouthed kisses, their tongues tangling, her hands sinking into his hair as she pulled him closer.
At some point, they sank to their knees. Then he rolled her beneath him on top of the rough-spun cloak, his broad body blocking the wind. Julia pulled at his tunic and he drew back just long enough to pull it off. She barely had time to run her hands over the scarred glory of his torso—mindful of his bruises—before hers was gone as well and his naked chest was pressed full-length against hers and his hands were on her, calloused and strong, his mouth trailing a fiery path down to her breasts, making her gasp with the lightning that shot down her spine every time he sucked a nipple into his mouth.
She couldn’t say when she lost her leggings, or he his trousers. All she knew was that she was naked now, and so was he, and she wasn’t cold at all. In fact she was on fire as he bent his head to her, kissing and tasting and sucking her into a frenzy. Only when she was sweat-soaked and writhing beneath him did he back off, stretching his long, hard body over hers, bracing himself on a forearm. Julia wound her arms around his neck. “Please, Alaric,” she whispered, not even sure what she was asking for. “Please.”
“Patience, woman.” His voice all banked thunder against her throat. “Be still.”
And then he brushed his thumb against her. Soft and slow.
Julia gasped. A brilliant heat arced through her, hot as ealu down her throat. Alaric drew back, watching her with terrifying focus as he moved his hand again, stroking another bright, hot shock straight through her. He stroked her again and again, with devastating gentleness.
And when he slid a finger into her, slow and careful, exploring her tightness, Julia arched her back and pressed up into his hand. He knew all her secrets now, and he could have them. He could have whatever he wanted.
But in the next moment, his hand was gone. Cool air pebbled her skin. Julia opened her eyes to see him rearing up between her thighs, distant as some pagan god, looking down at her as if seeing her for the first time. “You’ve never done this before.”
Was it that obvious? Suddenly she was crushingly aware that he had been with other women—countless others. Women who had known what they were doing. She forced herself to hold his gaze, to raise her chin defiantly. “Why? Do I displease you?”
“Ah, Julia.” His legs at her thighs, parting them. “You fucking ruin me.”
And when his mouth closed on her, in her most secret place, she almost screamed with the pleasure of it. Soft, warm. Liquid sin. He pressed her down with both hands on her hips and moved his mouth on her, his tongue, in an utterly wicked, delicious dance that undid her entirely. Moving on instinct, she wrapped her legs around his neck and pulled him closer, grinding her hips up into his mouth, gasping nonsensical things into the great blue dome of the sky. Another bright, fierce arc of pleasure shot through her, making her back arch and her fingers curl in the grass, her teeth clenching around his name.
When he kissed her mouth again, it was a new taste, a whole new country. Indescribably intimate. She felt his lean hips shift forward through the haze of her desire and suddenly the hard, naked length of him was pressed up against the slick heat between her thighs. Slowly he eased himself into her, pinning her hard to the ground.
Julia trembled. The fog lifted, and for a moment she was just on the edge of pain. She felt herself expanding deliciously to accommodate him and held still, unsure of these new sensations.
“Are you all right?” A low whisper against her neck.
She could have wept. “Yes.”
He began to move in slow, sure strokes. Expanding his territory. She could feel the tension in his back and shoulders, the fierce control he was exerting just to hold himself in check.
“Alaric—” She locked her legs around his hips and tried to pull him closer, her nails scraping down his back, hoping he would not make her beg. “Just do it all at once.”
The muscles in his back tightened convulsively. “I’m trying to be gentle.”
It came out urgent, agonized . “Don’t be.”
“If this is how you want it, Julia.” He braced himself over her and buried a hand in her hair, arched her head back and covered her mouth with his. Kissed her long and deep.
Then he thrust into her in one powerful stroke. Julia gasped against his mouth, white-hot stars exploding in the dark behind her eyelids, her nails digging into his shoulder blades.
After the first shock, it didn’t hurt. Not like she’d been led to expect.
Alaric held himself utterly still, cradling her in his arms, enormous and pulsing inside her. His heartbeat was everywhere under her skin. “Julia. My Julia.” His lips brushed her forehead, her eyelids. The line of her cheekbone. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” Nothing could hurt her when he was holding her like this. Kissing her like this. Saying her name like she was the only good thing in the world. Julia pressed her mouth to his skin and tasted his sweat. “Finish what you started.”
He made a sound deep in his throat, a choked-out groan that nearly undid her. Then he started to move again, cords of muscle standing out in his neck, flexing into her with ferocious discipline. It began to feel—not good, exactly. Complicated.
Then he shifted his hips. Just slightly, but it made all the difference. “There,” Julia whispered. “Just— there .” He was killing her with it now, his hips grinding up against the white-hot pinpoint of her desire. Erasing the discomfort entirely, moving in slow circles that were absolutely exquisite. Julia wrapped her legs tighter around him and held on for dear life.
“Ah. Gods , you feel good.” His voice sending shocks down her spine to her toes. “Marry me.”
Her head spun. The words did not make sense. “What?”
“Marry me. Be my wife. Stay with me until the world crumbles into ash.”
Julia let out a wordless gasp. He cannot mean this. Something was building. Like the pleasure she had felt before but bigger, an ocean current next to a river. It made her wild. Made her want to claw his back to ribbons and then climb out of her own skin.
“Anything,” she moaned. “Please.”
He kissed her, tongue plunging deep, an act of raw possession. “Say the words.”
Julia moaned, her breasts scouring the rough skin of his chest. Her nipples screamingly sensitive. “ Yes. I swear. Only please—” She was writhing beneath him now, her legs tightening around him, her nails digging into his biceps.
He was so deep in her now. As deep as he could go.
“ Gods , Julia. You feel so—” He hissed between his teeth. Flexed inside her in a way that made the world go black. “I’ll be your shield and fight your battles. I’ll lay the wealth of cities at your feet.”
“What?” What sorcery was this? Nobody meant what they said to lovers; she knew that well enough. What diabolical game was he playing? Outrage built in her as she realized he might not give her what she wanted, not until she did what he said. She arched her back; a moan built deep in her throat. “Just—just please —”
His mouth at her neck. Desperate. “Say yes.”
Anything. She’d have agreed to anything. “Yes.”
His movements became more urgent, hard and merciless; giving her no quarter. Julia was beyond hearing now. She was beyond understanding. She could do nothing but dig her heels into his thighs and hang on. His hands clenched hard on her ass, hard enough to bruise as he took her ruthlessly, growling a litany of curses and love words into the curve of her throat. Heated praise and filthy encouragements and promises no one should make, not ever.
The pleasure this time tore her open, shattered her. She came apart in his arms, a raw, trembling mess, great arcs of pleasure ripping through her over and over. Only when she could take no more did he chase his own, wringing one more impossible cataclysm from her spent body with his deep, brutal thrusts, his own pleasure coming hard on the heels of hers.