20. Marcus #2
“What happened to me?” she asks as she holds up her hands, voice clear and devoid of sleep.
The ashes remain, making it impossible to tell if the skin has healed or not. But at least the color has returned to her face, and she no longer appears to be in pain.
“You got too close to the dragon’s fire.”
“The Viverna.” The realization dawns on her swiftly. Staring sightlessly, she shakes her head. “I should be in the infirmary right now.”
“If not for the Tredici, you would be.” He swallows. “Or worse. ”
She stares down at her hands and arms, flexing her fingers back and forth.
“What is this?”
“A salve made of plumeria ashes.”
“And why were you…” She trails off.
Why was I sleeping next to you? Holding you? But he can’t finish the question for her because he doesn’t want to answer it.
She clears her throat. “What happened to the burns?”
“The plumeria ashes. You were brought here with them covering your hands and forearms. That’s all I know.”
Her voice trembles with her next words. “How could you not tell me the Durevolians have a Viverna?”
He would laugh at her presumption, but anger overtakes him: anger at her for going off on her own last night, anger at himself being the reason she got into this situation in the first place.
“And how could you let yourself be ensnared by the Tredici magic?”
Dru’s gaze snaps to his, the gold in her eyes sparking.
“I didn’t let myself be ensnared.” Venom spikes her words. “I had no choice in it. So, I ask again: Why did you not tell me the Durevolians had a dragon?”
Breathing out through his nostrils, he nearly lies to her again. I’m already keeping so much from her . And this secret has already been spoiled.
“As far as I’m aware, the Viverna you met in the cave is the last one in existence. He’s so sacred to the Durevolians, only the Tredici keep him now, protecting his very existence with their magic.”
She leans against the alcove of his balcony, listening in silence.
“At one time, all Viverna came from Anziano,” he continues.
“But many sought to use them as weapons, to chain them rather than allow them to roam free. And when the Viverna fought back, they were slaughtered. The Viverna you met last night was the last dragon egg found in the last female’s clutch. ”
Confusion mars her expression, like she’s trying to gather the bits she remembers from her studies. “Why didn’t it kill me?”
Emotion constricts his throat, and he swallows. “I don’t know. Dragons’ fire is poisonous; it would’ve killed you if they hadn’t healed you right away.”
She barks out a humorless laugh. “But dragons aren’t real, Marcus—they’re monsters of legend meant to scare Phaedran children at night. No.” She shakes her head. “I must’ve dreamt it.”
Stubborn woman. “What other explanation could there be?”
“I don’t know.” She presses an ashen hand to her forehead. “I was inebriated and upset, and I can’t trust my own mind.”
Upset because of me.
He gestures to her arms. “Then how do you explain the ashes?”
She glances up at the lightening sky. “I can’t.”
The silence grows between them. He watches her, hair tucked behind her ears, the skin beneath her eyes puffy.
“What price did I pay?” Dru whispers.
“Why do you think there’s a price?”
“Because this world doesn’t give something without taking anything in return.”
Acceptance of whatever fate she believes the healing ashes bestowed upon her flashes across her face. She’s stronger than he would be in this moment.
“None that I know of.”
Her shoulders loosen a fraction. “And you? What did all this take from you?”
My strength. And my sense of safety for you on this island slipping away with each passing day.
“The high priestess claimed the ashes are merely a conduit, that the magic needs a life force to pull from.”
Shock widens her gaze. “And you agreed?”
He would’ve agreed to so much more—even taken on the dragons’ fire himself— if it meant Dru lived.
“I’m a praetor and one of the Faithless,” he decides to say. “There’s not much they could do to me that I haven’t already endured.”
“No.” She straightens, fire sparking in her gaze. “You don’t get to do that, Marcus. You don’t get to pretend like you would’ve slept beside just anyone, or… held them all night so they could siphon your life force.”
He glances away, gathering his bearings. Dru is and will always be the only person he’d make that kind of sacrifice for. Stellae, he would’ve let the magic kill him if that’s what it took. The unsaid words stick in his throat, choking him.
Taking a shallow breath, he tells her a modicum of the truth. “I wouldn’t do it for just anyone. There are few people in this world I would do it for.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “Then why me?”
Why her? He couldn’t begin to choose a reason, much less voice them.
He looks away and laughs sardonically, pressing his fingers into the stubble at his throat. “I can’t do this.”
“Why?” she insists.
Because, no matter how much it pains me, I can’t apologize for the awful things I said last night, or for the lie I told you six years ago. Because I can’t tell you how I feel about you, even as it’s tearing me apart from the inside.
But, once again, he offers her only crumbs: “Because I can’t tell you what you want to hear. Because…” Fuck . “I can’t be selfish—I can’t risk Cato’s life for feelings I tried to purge from myself long ago.”
Her lips part, arms falling to her sides. “Feelings? What feelings?”
Stomach in knots, his pulse thunders in his ears.
The more he’s tried to forget her all these years, the deeper she’s sunk her claws into his every thought.
His very soul. Her hold on him is the reason why he brought her here in the first place and why she’s involved in the trials at all—because he couldn’t forget her no matter how hard he tried or how often he threw himself into his work.
He thought she’d be safer here, away from the Imperium, where he could keep an eye on her. After abandoning her without giving a reason or saying goodbye, it was the least he could do.
But it’s only served to dredge up those feelings he fought tooth and nail to erase from memory. And, after last night, he can’t pretend any longer.
I’m going to regret this.
Taking a step toward her, he reaches for her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers. She looks up at him, her open gaze searching his. His heart pounds inside his chest when she doesn’t pull away.
“Dru, I?—”
The door to his room swings open.
Dru leaps back from him as Sabina hurries inside. His old friends regret and relief gut him at the loss of her in that moment, allowing the exhaustion to creep back in.
The servant pauses in the doorway upon seeing the two of them on the balcony. Her eyes widen, and heat splashes across her cheeks.
“Apologies, Drusilla, Praetor Marcus. I came to wake you, but I see you’re already awake.”
She turns to leave, but Dru steps away from the balcony. From him.
“No apology necessary, Sabina.” He could swear her voice trembles slightly. “Marcus and I were having an early-morning strategy session before the first trial today.”
The first trial. After all that happened, he completely forgot. Stellae, what was I thinking?
He grabs his dagger beside his bed and sheathes it in his belt. “I was just leaving.”
Dru’s attention snaps to him, confusion and hurt warring in her expression.
Sabina narrows her gaze. “It didn’t look like?— ”
Marcus doesn’t hear the rest of what Sabina says. He’s already out the door and on his way to find Cato. To remind himself what all of this has been about, and why he can’t allow himself to get close to Dru again.