Chapter II Trajan #2
She winced. I wasn’t sure if it was the question that made her flinch or something else. She reached out and gripped my wrist, staring where she held on to me, her thumb brushing along my skin. I realized she was rubbing the blood from her fingers onto the skin of my inner wrist.
My pulse quickened, my breath becoming labored. I wasn’t sure why until I felt the distinct presence of mystical power. The gods’ power.
I thought Valerius may have fabricated his little story about her, only to make himself seem more daring and brave to keep a witch in his house.
But it appeared I was wrong. It felt similar to the god-touched magic pouring through my veins when I shifted into the dragon.
Only this felt slightly different. More … feminine.
There wasn’t the roar of a beast surging through my body and consciousness to break free, but the rush of scintillating, hypnotic power encircling me where I still knelt on the stone floor.
“It is true,” I said softly. “You are touched by the gods.”
She stared dazedly where she continued to brush her thumb and rub her blood in a circle over my pulse throbbing in my wrist. I didn’t understand what she was doing, but I couldn’t seem to stop her.
“By a goddess. Not a god,” she stated clearly, even though her voice remained dreamlike. “I see you, Trajan.”
I gulped at the sound of my name on her lips, having no idea why it affected me so deeply.
It was as if by saying my name, she had ensnared me somehow, able to cut me open and see all my secrets.
Even so, my heart pumped harder, not because she might actually know the darkest depths of me, but because I suddenly wanted her to.
She lifted her gaze to mine, her pupils slowly shrinking, her irises a deep blue like the Tyrrhenian Sea far away from shore. I was caught in their midnight depths and the stunning beauty of her face. She was the most striking woman I had ever seen.
“You are going to protect me,” she whispered softly, her magic compressing the room—a command, not an observation. “I can see it so clearly.”
I could say nothing at first, bewildered by this strange sensation winding tighter around me.
“So you are a witch,” I confirmed.
Then she smiled and caught my very soul. It wasn’t a smile meant to be beguiling or sweetly alluring. Still, I felt trapped and slain all at the same time.
“Yes, Trajan,” she assured me, sorrow creeping into her eyes again. “A witch with no power.” She finally let me go and sat back on her heels, looking around the small temple. “Not in this depth of hell.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
Her head snapped back to me, features sharp and focused.
“I believe,” I told her gently, “that you have a great deal of power. Even in this hell you live in.”
“As if you could possibly know anything about my world,” she bit out furiously.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming up the hallway behind us. I launched to my feet, quickly thinking of an excuse as to why I’d be in this part of the house.
Lela didn’t even bother to move or hide her bridle and the knife on the ground. When the male slave who’d been serving us wine stepped into the temple, he quickly surveyed Lela then swung his attention to me.
“I heard someone in distress, so I came to find out who it was,” I explained pathetically.
“Lie,” said Lela, her gaze on the other man while she still knelt.
He ignored me, scooped the bridle and the knife in one hand, then knelt and gathered Lela into his arms.
“There now, darling. I’ve got you.”
Lela wrapped her arms around his neck and let her head fall to his shoulders, eyes slipping closed.
“She injured herself,” I told him.
He’d turned to leave but stopped and looked at me, anger tightening his face into a scowl.
“No, dominus,” he said, though the moniker used to show respect to noble-born dragons was laced with loathing. “She has given herself some relief. That is all. I’ll take care of her. You should return to the party now.”
Then he gave me a swift bow of the head, dismissing me with as much reverence he could while holding the limp Lela in his arms.
I followed slowly down the central hallway that led back to the main part of the house. He pressed a kiss to her temple, and my gut tightened.
“You can rest now tonight,” he told her tenderly.
“He may call for me,” she murmured with aching sorrow in her voice.
“No, sweetheart. If he needs someone, I’ll be sure it’s me. Sleep now.”
Then they turned the corner and were out of sight.
With a heaviness I’d not felt since I’d sent my sisters away from Rome for their own safety, I wandered back to the triclinium.
I made a quick excuse to leave, saying my stomach was unsettled, not caring that Quintus smirked at me and said, “I didn’t upset you by mentioning General Drussus’s victory where you had failed, did I? ”
I didn’t give a fuck what Quintus thought. I needed to get out of that house. My blood burned as it pumped hotly through my veins, the dragon needing to burst free, to fly.
When I stepped outside and looked up, there were a half dozen deathriders circling the skies over Rome.
The newest edict whispered into the ear of Valerius by Caesar, put forth to the senate, and ratified into law.
No one could leave Rome without direct permission from the emperor, not plebeians or patricians.
The deathriders circled, not to keep enemies out, but to keep citizens in.
I waved to the stable boy to bring my horse. He fetched him quickly. I mounted and spurred him into a gallop, needing the wind on my face.
It wasn’t the tyrant Igniculus, the foul sycophant Valerius, or his lackey Quintus who churned the acid in my belly at the moment.
It was the mystifying beauty who found solace in cutting herself, who was muzzled like a fucking dog, and who likely had to hide her feelings for her lover, the male slave who’d carried her away to tuck her into bed. They were both undoubtedly used most foully by Valerius.
As I wound higher up Palatine Hill to my home, I realized that wasn’t the only reason anger had pierced me so hard tonight. It was the slave man’s gentle kiss and soft words to Lela that stirred my dragon awake. His growl vibrated in my chest, my beast disliking it.
It was fucking ludicrous.
I should be happy that the poor woman found some loving affection in that prison. But even as I trotted into my courtyard, dismounted, and then retreated into the familiar comfort of my home, I felt wholly disturbed. Completely distraught. And it was all because of Lela.