Melos: House Trajan Book 3

Chapter One

Chapter One

Sierra

“But I love my cottage,” I said, titling my head as Lucius kissed my neck.

“And I love having you in my bed.”

I was standing between his long legs, my hands on his shoulders, as he sat in his chair behind his desk in the study. Trying to talk to him when he was like this was futile, but it had been the only opportunity I’d had over the past few days, what with his running Ordelpho, me learning customs, not to mention a wedding ceremony to arrange and attend, and a Longest Night celebration to be had, both of which were happening tonight.

When his warm hands slipped underneath my skirts and found the back of my thighs, I tried to push them away, but he bit my lip. Gods, his hands on my naked skin had the power to arrest every thought in my head—except the desire to invite him for more, which I tamped down with the greatest effort.

“But I need my own space,” I mumbled against his teeth, losing the battle.

“Then redecorate my bedroom. Our bedroom.” His hands slid up, squeezing my bottom, which was now exposed to the cool room. I shivered.

“Lucius,” I breathed. Wetness began to pool between my thighs, and his scent became potent with lust. How in Titus had we managed to get anything done lately?

“Chieftain?”

Lucius snarled at the interruption, and as quick as lightning, my skirts were back in place and I was being tucked behind his chair, held back by an arm made of iron.

Obviously, the rut haze hadn’t fully left Lucius. He could never not touch me when we were near each other. And unless everyone disappeared from Ordelpho, he was bound to snarl at someone, anyone, several times a day. But it was gradually lowering.

“Chieftain, my apologies.” The Ongahri alpha lowered his eyes, and from here I could smell a trace of fear emanating from him.

“What is it, Tiberius?” Lucius bit out.

“Acheron is requesting you visit the eastern watchtower as soon as possible.”

I frowned. That watchtower was the one that monitored the harbor, the only public access from the Iris Sea to Ordelpho.

Lucius thanked him, briefly dismissing him. Tiberius promptly left the room, his eyes still on the floor as he shut the door to the study.

“Duty calls, my dove. First, come sit. I need to say a proper goodbye.” He patted his lap. The smile he gave me was downright feral, and I rolled my eyes in humor.

Looping my arms around his neck, I perched on his lap. “Hope everything is—” I didn’t get to finish. Lucius captured my mouth and set his tongue to work, exploring all of me. Through the bond I could feel his pleasure, feel his reaction to my pleasure. It was heady, this new ability to feel my mate.

Our kiss deepened, taking my breath away, until, finally, he pulled away with a groan. His silver eyes were a dark metal-gray as they took me in.

“The next time I see you, you will be my bride.” His voice was rough with desire, that husky tone of his even deeper, even raspier. He threaded his fingers into my hair, then gently touched the bite mark above my collarbone. I shivered. “I’ll see you then, little dove.”

“Okay,” I whispered, feeling shy.

“What is it?” His finger traced the heat I felt building on my cheeks. He grinned, but it was a tender look, a lifting of his lips that he only reserved for me. “After everything we’ve done with each other, you’re shy. Why?”

My whole face heated now. Lucius still had the power to make me feel virginal. But the idea of marrying him brought a different emotion, something vulnerable. Perhaps it was because I could still see the man in him that I’d first met. Someone so confident with who he was, who knew what he wanted so effortlessly. Someone who could cut to the quick. He was intimidating, and a part of me, regardless of what we had become to one another, was afraid he’d reject me, see me as less than. Would change his mind. Without the fog of estrus, doubt was able to resurface in me, even though it was unfounded.

It was irrational, but there it was.

“It’s—it’s just that I think you may be disappointed,” I said weakly, deciding to be honest and naked, baring myself to him.

“In you? Never.” His hands tightened on me. “Do you trust me?”

Did I? Fully? Just because we were mates now, it didn’t mean that I knew more about him. I didn’t. Barely anything. But there was time. Plenty of time, seeing that both of our lifespans were three times that of a normal human.

I looked deep into those exotic eyes of his. There was a whole world in there, a wildness, a powerful control. But through the bond there was an unwavering assurance. There were no tricks there, no ambivalence. His essence was hot, a tangible strength that spoke of caged power but also conviction, one that told me unequivocally he was fully committed to me. That was all I needed to know.

“Yes,” I said with my own conviction. “I trust you, Lucius.”

Something like relief shone in his eyes, which amazed me. Did he have those doubts, too? It was hard to imagine.

“Good.” He kissed my nose then set me down. “Then you have nothing to worry about. You are mine and I am yours and we chose each other. And tonight, I’ll make you my wife in the eyes of the world.”

With a final kiss goodbye and a smack on the bottom, Lucius left the study.

I sat down where he’d been sitting and considered the time. It was a few more hours until lunch, which I would be having in the parlor with Farah, my maid, and three seamstresses from the main clothier shop in Ordelpho. A wedding gown fitting, both a first and final, had been arranged. After that, Ander and I would be going into the main town to pick up my last-minute gifts for the Longest Night and, hopefully, the gift I’d be giving Lucius for the ceremony.

In Providence, it was customary for the bride to give the groom a gift. With the Ongahri, I was told, it was the other way around. So, Lucius would have no idea that I’d be getting him something, and the idea of that was exciting to me. I loved giving people gifts—not that I ever had the means to do so on my own. The only thing now, though, was I had no clue what to get him.

What did you give a man that had everything?

My eyes went to the mural of the map of Titus on the wall. It had only been a few days since Lucius had expressed the fear that war was coming, something I just couldn’t see happening. The people of Titus hadn’t seen war in decades, and the last battle had only been a skirmish about boundary lines. But flat-out war? Not in over a century.

For a few seconds, the map of Titus was blotted in red as my mind’s eye conjured scenes of death. I blinked, feeling my breakfast weighing on my stomach like a stone.

I missed my father with a sudden ache. Father’s calm and steady nature, a nature that soothed me whenever we spoke of things like war and possible futures. But Father wasn’t here, and I had no idea when I’d see him again. Lucius was my compass now, and I trusted his wisdom. If he said war was coming, I believed him.

My gaze rested on the center of the map, then traveled southwest, past the orange deserts, past the mighty River Styx, where once crossed, the landscape the artist had painted turned a dark green. Lucius had mentioned settling Odessia, that lush rain forest land, uncultivated, with a dozen mini-islands. Virgin territory. This time next year, or next month, would we be living there?

“And what are you doing, Sierra? I must admit, you are far prettier than Lucius.” Neil walked in, his hands in his pockets, Fear perched on his shoulder.

I laughed, then stood up with a stretch. “Just thinking of all I have to do today.”

“Ah. Yes, a big night for you.” Neil smiled, then paused as he stared at me. “Are you… sure about this?”

“About Lucius?”

“Yes.”

My hand automatically went to my claiming bite, the mark Lucius never failed to open again and again like it was his first time claiming me. Every morning it would heal, but the bond ribbon’s root pulsed under the skin there, where it branched out like a glorious tree, spreading throughout my body and soul.

Neil laughed. “No need to answer. I can see it on your face that you are.”

I grinned sheepishly. “I am.”

“I’m glad. I think it’s more than a perfect match. And that’s not bias talking, either.”

So far, everyone had said much of the same thing. But it was Fadon and Demos whose opinion I was mostly curious about, what their thoughts were on me marrying and being claimed by the House Dega leader. Obviously, Fadon would have a problem with it. Thankfully, he wasn’t here to stop what was coming tonight, no matter how much I wished he was. I knew without a doubt he’d try to stop me from going through with it.

“Thank you, Neil. You and Ander’s opinion matter a lot to me.” Indeed, their friendship meant the world to me. “Anyway, were you looking for Lucius?”

“I was. Any idea where I could find him? We had an appointment.”

“He was called away to the watchtower.”

Neil straightened, his eyebrows rising. “Any idea which one?”

“The eastern one. Seemed pretty important.”

“Huh. Guess I’ll go over there myself and see what the issue is.”

I frowned. “I hope it’s nothing bad.” Remembering what Lucius had said about war coming had me worried now. Surely it hadn’t started already?

He shook his head, and Fear, on his shoulder, pecked Neil on the neck. “I’m sure it’s not. Probably something to do with a delayed ship that’s come in. Or this dastardly weather. Worst winter I’ve ever seen.”

“Probably. Well, I’ll see you tonight.”

He kissed my cheek, and Fear trilled. Fear was starting to grow on me. In fact, his name just wasn’t ringing true to me anymore. Now he was more like a Mischief.

“Nervous?” he asked, studying me.

“More than you know.”

He offered me his arm. “Nothing to be nervous about. You’ve already done the hard part.”

I smirked, and he caught my look and snorted.

“For shame, Sierra!” Laughing, he walked me out of the room. “I see Lucius has infiltrated your innocence.”

“More like Ander,” I said dryly.

Neil hooted with laughter, leaving me at the stairs to go in search of his chieftain. I, however, wanted to look at the rooms next to Lucius’ bedroom—our bedroom—and get some ideas on what I’d like to change, if anything. Maybe even moving rooms if I liked what I saw.

On this wing of the manor, there were three bedrooms, including ours. The one directly across from his was dark as I entered, and straight away I went to the windows to open the drapes. Winter light filled the room as each velvet panel was pulled back. I turned and looked around, noticing that the room was an exact replica of Lucius’ but in green.

I made a face and crossed my arms, disappointed. So I left that room and went to the one at the end of the short hall. The door was locked. Curious, I leaned forward and looked at the doorknob. There wasn’t a keyhole, so it wasn’t locked at all, just really hard to open.

“That’s strange,” I said out loud. I jiggled it one more time, thinking maybe it was just stuck. It was. With a shove, I pushed as hard as I could until it creaked open on what sounded like broken hinges.

Stepping inside, I realized the room was much smaller than the other two, and it was filled with a faint scent of something floral. As before, I pulled the drapes back, letting in the light. I noted the scent had grown stronger. It smelled sweet, something familiar, a bit cloying but pleasant.

My eyes swept the room, looking for the source of the fragrance. There were no flowers or potpourri stored in jars. No herb-infused candles. Instead, all I saw were wardrobes and crates, all of which sat stacked against the walls, leaving the center of the space clear. This must be where Lucius kept his things, I thought.

A hint of guilt touched me and I almost left the room, feeling like it wasn’t my place to be here. But then something caught my eye. A fall of lace was peeking out between two wardrobes on the left. I walked closer and saw that it was a dress in a shade of pale pink, held up by a padded hanger. I pulled it out, and that scent filled my nose. The dress was for a young woman and far older in its design than today’s fashions.

It must have belonged to his mother, I mused. Actually, I was more than confident that it did. Something about it had a bittersweetness to it, something nostalgic and gentle. Something loved very much. I gently put it back, and when I did, a scrap of paper fell, landing with a whisper onto the floor. I picked it up. It was a drawing of tuberoses in ink, reminding me of the prints I used to study in my schooling days.

All at once, the scent I couldn’t identify had a name: tuberose. A white flower that looked like little trumpets. A distinctive buttery floral scent from my childhood. I remembered Mother used to receive a bundle when Constant Royellius from Florence would come visit Father. That was why it smelled so familiar.

I pocketed the paper, an idea forming. With one more longing look around, I left the room and pulled the door shut. I didn’t have it in me to snoop anymore. Whatever Lucius had stored here I could either learn it from him directly or wait for a day when he’d invite me to do so.

“I’ll have it delivered as soon as it’s done, my lady,” the Ongahri craftsman said with a bow.

Smiling, I tapped the counter between us. “That would be lovely. Thank you so much…?”

“Alex,” he offered.

“Alex. You do beautiful work. Again, I’m sorry to have to rush you. If you can’t finish—”

He raised a brown hand, the fingers blackened from his metalworking. “Please, my lady. I will have it ready in time, it is no trouble at all. Besides, I am honored to serve the Chieftain’s mate!”

“Thank you so much, Alex.” I was about to say more but Ander nudged my elbow, and I looked over at him as the craftsman helped the people beside us.

I gave Ander a questioning look and followed his eyes. At the front of the shop was Farah, her hands on her hips, foot tapping.

“Oh,” I said, realizing the hour was getting late. “Guess I need to go. Can you finish the rest of this list, Ander? Pretty please?” I looked up and gave him my best pout, sad eyes and all.

He pulled a face but then grinned. “For you, I guess so. And don’t give me that face ever again. It’s brutal,” he teased, placing his hand over his heart.

Laughing, I quickly pulled out my list of last-minute gifts and handed it to him. “Just leave them in your room, and I’ll get them before dinner. But we’re still on for this afternoon.” Then I reached up to kiss his cheek before hurrying to an impatient Farah.

The little spitfire maid tsked at me, then marched out the door without waiting to see if I’d catch up. I followed with a grin on my face. Farah had definitely grown on me.

Our relationship had changed, starting when Lucius became my mate, of course, but more so since I’d performed that Delphos rite with Farah’s sisters, the women of Ordelpho. I could barely remember what it was I had experienced—still didn’t know what the purpose of the thing was, honestly—but I did remember seeing my mother and Lucinda, and kind of recalled seeing Auria and Demos. The rest was a blurry undertone of something I never wanted to reflect on—a malevolent feeling that made my stomach feel hollow, made the hairs on the back of my neck rise every time I thought of that day.

When I had come to, on the floor of that small stone building, with the Sapera standing over me, I only had Lucius on my mind. There had been no room for anything else, because through the bond, I had felt his need, his desperation to find me. All other thoughts were secondary until I could touch him, assure him that I was whole and safe and had returned to him.

So I had run out of the building without so much as a wave. And it couldn’t have been soon enough when I finally saw him outside the gates. Like his scent, the storm that had been building while I was lost to the Delphos rite had threatened to unleash had I not gotten to him in time. Ander and Neil had told me later how dangerous things could have gotten had I not appeared when I had.

Since then, Lucius had calmed. Somewhat. But he still didn’t want me out of his sight for too long, and only if I were accompanied by people he knew, like the guard I was with now as Farah and I made our way back to the manor, where lunch was waiting.

“My apologies for being so late,” I told the seamstresses as I breezed into the room. The two women and the lone male bowed at my entrance. The room had transformed into a dress shop.

Farah clapped her hands. “All right. Let’s get this done.”

I tried not to make a face as I took in all the fabrics and ribbons. Fashion had never been my thing, so I was trusting Farah in this fully.

“So,” she said, staring at me from head to toe, “as you can see, she needs a lot of work.”

I sighed. It was going to be a long day.