Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Sierra
Our days on the Freedom started with lazy mornings of slow love making and warm touches, where Lucius would gaze into my eyes as he eased himself inside me. The morning sunlight, faint and silver, would paint his sable hair like the pelt of a panther, its silken strands framing my face in a dark curtain when he kissed me with languor.
In those moments, we barely spoke, letting our bodies communicate instead. Dawn was his most vulnerable, as if in sleep, he was made anew and spent the rest of the day rebuilding himself into the controlled man the world knew. He was soft and gentle, raw and tender. He was the Lucius others never saw, and his allowing me to witness this part of him filled me with a sense of honor.
I understood now what Demos had meant when he’d said my giving myself to him had been an honor. I had given Demos my heart, my body, my soul, not hiding a thing. And Lucius was trusting me with the same.
It was heady stuff, this trust.
Afterward, Lucius would dress and see to his daily chores, while I got ready for my day. We’d then meet in the dining room for breakfast, him returning back to his duties and me strolling the deck, either with Ander as company, or just by myself, the quiet and sea all around me. Even though the icy air cut like a knife, I couldn’t resist taking in the magnificence of sky and ocean.
When the lunch hour came, either Lucius and I would eat in the cabin, or we’d have it with the others, but usually it was just the two of us for the rest of the day until dinner. Those hours in the cabin with him were the day’s highlight, and I cherished each moment. Our conversations were rich and thorough. I told him about growing up in Providence, about my parents, especially my father, who had nurtured my love of learning, never thwarting my curiosity.
We discussed our favorite books, favorite poems, favorite stories of old. At first, I had initially been surprised how well-read Lucius was, but then I realized it made sense: Lucius was a self-made man, and knowledge was power to him. In that aspect we were alike, but for different reasons—he for ambition, me for my insatiable curiosity.
I was sitting across from him in the sitting area of his cabin, my legs tucked underneath me on the wide, cozy chair. It was an hour until dinner. We had been at sea for five days now, and the daily routine was as natural to me as putting on a favorite pair of slippers.
Lucius had a drink in one hand, the other resting on his knee. “Tell me how you discovered you were Omega.” His words were said with empathy, as if he knew how startling the discovery had been for me.
I smiled ruefully. “I was told by a stranger. After my heat was over.”
I briefly started at the beginning, about Demos’ visit in the drawing room back in my father’s house, about the flask he’d given me during the Autumn Festival, the tainted tonic that proved what I was. I told him about meeting the Ongahri for the first time, about the envoy, about the cave and the winter storm that ended with Lucinda’s death.
When I got to the part about Auria, Lucius’ face paled.
“An elemental?” he breathed.
I hesitated in adding more. Auria had never told me not to share my knowledge about her existence, but for some reason it felt like I was exposing her and her world. At the same time, Lucius was my mate, and what difference would it matter, honestly? Nevertheless, the feeling of guilt was there. Of caution. But it was quickly replaced with a touch of anger, anger at the role of pawn I had been forced to play in a game where I didn’t know the rules, nor the players, only that it existed.
Still I felt like a pawn. It had only been days ago when the Sapera had said all those things to me. And Gods, I was tired of prophecies and cryptic words and seers. I wanted to move on, live this new life. Finally, I had a mate, had a future and was just getting started. I still wanted Fadon and Demos, but those desires were part and parcel of simply living. Talk of White Queens and rites, of visions and messages from the fates, were muddling my enjoyment of today.
I wanted no more of it.
“Yes. Of spring, I believe,” I finally answered. “Because of the enormity of what had happened, I never got the chance to ask her questions about what she was and all that. I wish that I had.”
“And Demos,” he said his name with a slight bite, “asked for her aid in getting you away from the envoy?” At my nod, he continued. “So he knew her. Friends with an elemental, for Ongar’s sake.” He shook his head and tossed back his drink before setting it down. “Sounds like Demos is more than what he portrays himself to be, even more so than what he’d already admitted to. I don’t like it.”
I wanted to defend him, explain to Lucius that Demos was more than all that. Defend my love from Lucius’ implication that Demos was suspect, which I could tell was where his thoughts had landed him. “He is a good man, Lucius. I—I don’t know what his involvement is in all of that; honestly, I never really cared. But I know his heart.”
Lucius looked at me sharply, considering. “You still love him.”
Gods help me, I didn’t want to hurt him, but I nodded. “I will not lie to you. I do love him. And I want him in my life, Lucius. My heart is big enough to love you both.”
He blinked, his lips parting. He wasn’t expecting my declaration of love, I could tell. Neither one of us had said the word “love” when we were together, not once, and never out loud, only implied.
A wash of tenderness and need to touch him had me getting out of my chair and walking over to him. He uncrossed his legs and watched me silently with a look that held a warning. But I knew my mate. I knew he was vulnerable right now. That he disliked the fact that I had the power to destroy him if I chose, and he knew that I knew that. He knew I held his weakness. Me.
I crawled into his lap as he looked at me, his expression blank. But his eyes said he was only a pounce away from lashing out if need be. Carefully, I cupped his jaw. “I love you, Lucius. With all that I am. Never, ever doubt that.”
He swallowed, breathing deeply. “But I’m not enough for you,” he said, as if the words had been forced out of him without his volition.
“Oh, Lucius. You are more than enough.”
“I know I have no say in who you claim. That is an Omega’s right. But I…” He shut his eyes, not willing to show me his pain. “I admit, Demos is the better man. I—I don’t deserve—”
“Shh. My love for you will never be diminished. My heart is big enough for all three of you. I love you—”
He grabbed my wrist, stilling my hand that was touching his face, the tender moment fading out and becoming something more vigilant. “Three.” I heard the growl building inside him. “Who—Oh.” Underneath me, his body tensed like a bow readying an arrow. “Fadon,” he spat.
I pursed my lips. I had put off this conversation for long enough, and I was angry at myself for not bringing it up long before, which I should have done. “You know that Fadon was courting me. You know about the Fealty Agreement, how it changed because of Ander.”
His arms went around me now, his hold a tight band. “The Fealty means shit.”
Lucius rarely used profanity unless it was under the guise of passion—whether in anger or lust—so I knew the thought of sharing me with Fadon more than needled him.
His words were gruff as he said, “House Trajan is the reason why you are in this fuckery to begin with. How you can’t see that, I don’t know. They don’t deserve you, Sierra.”
“Why do you have so much animosity toward them? Why does it seem personal?”
His gaze blanked out, like a fire had been dowsed, but just as suddenly a new one burned, slowly rising into a pyre. “Because they are everything I despise. For centuries, they have modeled their reign after the kings and queens of Titus, all because of envy. Flaunting their wealth, their precious bloodline. Their titles more important than the bodies that wield them. What they’ve built has no room for change, Sierra. It’s stifling, and one day it will be their downfall. They keep one foot in the world of men and one foot in the old ways, never courageous enough to choose one or the other. The Ongahri have lost their edge because of their complacency, and when war comes, House Trajan will not be able to hold the center, not unless they swallow that Trajan pride that I want nothing more than to be snuffed out.”
The passion in his words, the abject conviction—and animosity—was shocking to me. This was Lucius the Chieftain, who had spent decades building his own empire of misfits, outlaws, and unwanteds. A title-less man with no name, no connections.
“Personal?” he continued, that fire stoking. “It is more than just personal. Do you think I’d be a leader if I joined House Trajan? Of course not. Only those born to it are. It’s disgusting how arrogant that is. Once upon a time, leaders were chosen for their merit, their strength and wisdom. Not their bloodlines. Look at Ander, Sierra. A prince, the Heir. Think he wants that title, wants to wear that mantle upon his shoulders one day if his sister meets an early death? He resents the fuck out of that role, something he knows he didn’t earn, something he didn’t ask for.”
Sadness touched my heart. “I had no idea Ander felt that way.” His life had been hard enough, and I never stopped long enough—nor had seen it play out, what his duty in House politics looked like—to consider that he resented the crown. Knowing him as I did now, though, it made perfect sense for him to feel that way.
Lucius lost some of his heat. “He does. He fucking hates it. Aside from us being friends, it was one of the reasons why I helped him when I’d heard he had to marry. That his sister made him agree to. That whole House burns me, Sierra.”
Lucius lifted me so that I had to straddle his lap. His forehead touched mine, his breathing harsh and quick. Our words had opened a door to a room that most times was kept shut with lock and key, or least with me, it was.
“I have no problem with the Servant, but… Fadon,” he growled. His hands went between us to undo his breeches. I rose up, caught in his desperation that was coming through the bond. Once his cock was freed, he bunched up my skirts, tore at the thin barrier that covered my sex, and pushed me down onto his hardness, holding me by the waist in a tight grip.
He was brutal with his thrusts, his eyes darker than midnight, his expression fierce, as if the threat of me being taken away from him was a living, breathing possibility at any moment. “You are mine. Forever, Sierra. No one is going to take you away from me, understand? No king, no queen, no prince. No one.”
Shuddering, I was lost to the tight, deep pleasure he was giving me, lost to his passion, his anger, his fear of losing everything that held him together. “I understand.”
“Say you”re mine, Sierra. Say it.”
“I’m yours, Lucius,” I moaned. “Always.”
“That’s fucking right. And I don’t care what that fucking piece of shit parchment says. You. Are. Mine!” He captured my mouth, owning it, destroying it, as if he could swallow me whole and keep me inside him, where I’d never be lost to him.
A pulling at my shoulders, followed by a ripping sound as he tore open the bodice of my gown had me quivering. The collar and shoulders of the fabric bit into my skin as he pulled it wide open so he could bare my neck. He released my mouth and with his tongue, he lifted the osnat chain out of the way, exposing the claiming mark that pulsed only for him. When he sank his teeth into it, the climax to rival all climaxes hit me with a force that had me reeling.
When Lucius came apart, it was with a tormented sound against my neck, both a groan and a whimper. I held him tightly, feeling through our bond that surrender that made him vulnerable, a feeling he tried so hard to hide from me, himself especially. I sent him all the love and reassurance through that ribbon that merged us, and when our breathing and heartbeats returned to normal, only then did he release his mouth on my mark.
His neck was sweaty when I combed his hair back from his shoulders and face. He looked lost, and I kissed that look away.
“Did I hurt you?” he whispered, touching my arms, my shoulders, my face.
“Not at all.”
“I’m sorry. I—I just…”
“Shh. It’s okay, Lucius. It’s okay.”
“It’s not, but I promise to get a better grasp on these feelings I have for you. You deserve to be adored, not mauled all the time.”
I raised an eyebrow, wondering where all this was coming from. Was it because he was comparing himself to Demos, who he knew would be a part of my life? Was it all the talk about his issues with House Trajan that had nothing, really, to do with me? Or was it because he was preparing himself for when Fadon returned?
A slight lifting at the corner of his mouth assured me he had recovered from his pique. “All that talk reminds me sometimes of where I came from. I lost my mother at a young age, had no siblings, barely any family. Times were hard, and the land was brutal. You fought or you died. And money was like wishes. Compared with what I have now? You are my most treasured gift, Sierra. Something I never thought I’d have and something I never thought I wanted.”
He shook his head in wonderment. “I lead several hundred Ongahri, have enough wealth to live comfortably for the rest of my long life. And now I have this. You and me. It’s… I’m not used to having good things happen. Still to this day, I have to fight for everything, little dove. And you, who give your love so freely, wanting nothing in return… it’s both humbling and terrifying. I get lost in it sometimes. Either scared out of my fucking mind or all dreamy and wishing my mother could meet you.”
His smile was so sweet as he stared ahead to some image in his head, as if he were imagining his mother standing before us.
“What about your father? You’ve never mentioned him. Did you know him?” I wanted to tread carefully but I wanted to know Lucius, know everything there was he could share with me, because he so rarely shared a thing about himself to others. I was so grateful he had shared so much with me these past few days.
His eyes came back to mine and his jaw tensed. “I did not, no.”
“Oh, Lucius.” I couldn’t imagine not ever knowing my father. “Did you ever look for him, try to find out his whereabouts?”
“I have no idea who or where he is.”
His mother was an omega and had obviously died young. “You poor mother. I take it they were not mates.
“They were not.” That deep voice of his signaled the moment was over, and he sighed as if he were tired. He patted my thigh. “Let’s get you changed. My cum is dripping out of that sweet cunt.”
My cheeks heated at his language, still, after all this time.
He chuckled. “Oh, look at that. I’ve made my little dove blush.”
I swatted him on the shoulder. “Which you enjoy, don’t you?”
“Corrupting you?” He pawed my breast, pinching my peaked nipple. “I do. But I love making a mess out of you more.” His grin was back and it warmed my heart to see it, but it also made me miss that dreamy, vulnerable man I’d come to love as much as every other side he’d shown me so far.
I was determined more than ever to see it return.