Chapter 28

I n the end, my return to the First House is far less complicated than I expect it to be. A fast horse’s gallop takes us to the ragged edge of Trilion. From there it only takes a quick exchange of money to get me aboard a bread cart destined for the First House before dawn breaks. For enough money, the driver has no problem hauling along a servant girl whose master’s entourage had stranded her in the city. For even more money, he said, he’d agree to keep his hands off me.

Given that he was negotiating with a member of the Savasci, he’ll likely never know how close he came to dying for his idle joke. Instead, more money crossed his palm. There are battles and then there are wars, as Syril said.

True to his word, the baker keeps silent about my presence all the way through the gates of the First House and up the long and twisting road into the castle itself. I slip away before he even stops his cart, though it’s all I can do not to steal a few loaves of his fragrant wares.

Moving quickly, I dash away from the carts and enter the pedestrian courtyard. At the far edge of the courtyard rises a buzz of voices at the well, servants all. I give them wide berth, angling along the shadowed outer wall until I step into one of the enormous archways that leads the-Light-only-knows-where. Still, there’s no one around, so as my eyes adjust to the gloom, I pull back my hood and pat at my hair, amazed at Nazar’s handiwork. I never would’ve believed his wig would have lasted through all the indignities of this night, but it has.

But now I need to sneak back into the barracks as Merritt. If I can just ball up my wig and robe together, shove both of them under my tunic, no one will pay me any mind. Besides, I can’t leave this servant’s robe laying around. I can’t risk it being found and linked to?—

“Hello, Talia.”

I freeze in place, not moving a muscle as Fortiss steps out of the shadows. He strolls up to me, his golden eyes intense, his face alight with interest in the half-shadows of the archway. He says nothing, but stares at me with a heat that makes my heart skitter like rocks thrown down the mountain.

“My…lord,” I manage, sweeping into a curtsey, if only to give my racing mind some precious few seconds to think, to think! I could run, I could faint, I could cry out, I could?—

I straighten and glance up, and Fortiss takes the choice from me.

“It is you,” he hisses. Without another word, he moves closer and reaches for me, cradling my face in both his hands. His mouth comes down over mine, our lips connecting in a kiss so fierce I’m surprised it doesn’t light my skin on fire. My heart leaps, my blood races, and for one long, glorious, dizzying moment, I give myself over to that kiss, to everything it means and cannot mean, to everything I want and cannot have. With some belated sense of self preservation, I curl my left shoulder towards him, arch my neck, giving him ready access to my right shoulder and arm but not my left. Not my left!

Only I would be swept into a kiss by the most beautiful, dangerous man I’ve ever met, and be more worried about my disguise than in reveling in the moment.

He follows my lead eagerly enough, using a free hand to hold me close, all the while deepening the kiss, drifting his mouth across my face, along my jaw. With each new area plundered, a piece of my control falls away and is burned up into cinders.

And why— why am I so dazed by him? I may be unused to the touch of a man, but I questioned Adriana endlessly. She told me everything she thought I’d need to know…and a fair amount I never wanted to know, if I’m being honest.

But I never expected to be kissed like this, by a man of nobility and strength. I never imagined what it might feel like to be held in the arms of someone whose touch is so fierce and passionate at once. I never truly believed a warrior’s fire might burn for me.

And Fortiss is a warrior, Divh or no Divh. A warrior I would do well to tear myself away from…if only I could force myself to do so.

“I knew you were here, knew you were close. I couldn’t believe you ran away as Merritt said you did. I felt you everywhere. I couldn’t think but imagine you, I couldn’t sleep but dream of you. I couldn’t breathe but sense you there, just out of reach.”

“What?” I manage, sounding stupid to my own ears, but my mind slips and shimmies along the current of his words. Each new admission is punctuated by lick, a nip, a shuddering sigh, until at last, Fortiss wrenches himself away from me to stare at me, wild-eyed.

“ Talia ,” he gasps, as if he’s only now seeing me clearly. “What in the blighted path are you wearing?”

“Oh.” I’d much rather him continue kissing me, but words tumble out of my mouth too fast for my brain to catch up. “Fortiss, you can’t tell anyone. You can’t. I know that Merritt believes and so do you that all is well, that he is safe. But I saw the arrow that brought him down, I felt the agony of him in my arms when I thought he was murdered. I couldn’t leave him here, alone, and dance my way back to the Tenth House to wait for his return.”

“Again, I knew it.” Fortiss grins, his hands pinning my elbows to my sides. “I knew you wouldn’t flee, no matter what your people said. There’s nothing about you that would make me believe you’d run back to your father or to your child husband. You’re stronger than that, Talia. Fiercer. And you couldn’t stay away.”

“I couldn’t,” I agree breathlessly. His hands tighten on my elbows—my elbows , thank the Light, but it’s still too close! I have to distract him. No matter how my blush stains my cheeks, I part my lips and stare at him with what I hope are wide and needy eyes. “I couldn’t stay away from you either. I had to see you again, I just thought it would be from a distance.”

“I felt you watching me,” he says, his words losing their urgency, drifting into teasing, even tempting. “I have felt you all around me. Is that your ploy Talia? Do they teach you witchcraft up in the mountains, that you’ve preyed so on my mind?”

“No…I…” I swallow, desperately trying to remember that this is all an act. “You’ve thought of me?”

My voice sounds so tremulous, I’d be proud of myself if I was doing any of it on purpose. But Fortiss’s eyes fire with interest.

“I’ve burned for you,” he breathes out, and when his hands slide higher on my arms, I do the only thing a warrior can when faced with certain ruin.

I misdirect him.

I shift and take his hands in mine, bringing them both to my mouth. Kissing first one palm than the other, then brushing my lips along the fingertips. I lay my cheek into his left palm, while his right I guide unerringly to the swell of my breast beneath my servant’s cloak.

I don’t expect my groan of absolute pleasure when his hand cups the curve of that breast, kneads it, but there’s no mistaking the catch in Fortiss’s breath as well, the urgency of his hold as the moment snaps between us.

“Where are you staying?” he hisses. “You’re dressed as a servant. Are you in the barracks? No woman is allowed there.”

“I’m hiding in the servants’ quarters. There are so many brought in for the banquets, it’s easy to lose myself among them.” I glance up, acting as if I hear far-off conversations. “But the others…They’re heading back to their chambers. I have to move with them, stay in the crowd. I need to leave, Fortiss—to blend in.”

“You could never blend in so well if I were looking for you,” he counters, but he straightens, looking down at me. At least he seems to realize that dragging me off into the shadows isn’t a viable option, not with so many people around. “And I will be looking for you Talia. When I find you next, you won’t escape so easily.”

“I won’t want to escape,” I assure him, but at this moment, I would say literally anything to get away. And besides all that, it’s true. “Don’t say anything to Nazar, I beg you! He’ll tie me up himself and send me packing if he finds out. He couldn’t bear for me to be in danger.”

Fortiss’s lips twitch. “But you are in danger, Talia,” her murmurs. “Everything about you is danger. So beautiful, so fierce.”

He bends to me again, capturing my lips, and I feel the skitter of power that leaps from him to me, igniting my warrior blood. Because like it or not, I am a warrior, and he was born to be one. How fierce those who fight with the Divh would be if unions such as these were common? How powerful?

The sacrilege of the thought takes my breath away, or at least I tell myself that’s why I swoon in Fortiss’s arms, praying that my cloak will serve to hide my band from his questing touch as I lean into his kiss. Need opens up deep within me, a wet and licking fire, and for half a second I forget about my plans, my worries, my strategy.

The way of the warrior may be death. But right now I just wish it could lead to Fortiss’s bed—my precious virginity be damned.

“Go,” he manages finally, pushing me away mere seconds before I’m reduced to begging for his body. I rock back on my heels, dazed. “Go. But make no mistake, Talia—this isn’t done between us.”

A cry goes up among the servants around the well.

I wheel away from Fortiss and flee back into the light.