Protector of the Flame (24 page)

“I know,” she said and kissed him. She folded their soiled linen and put it at the foot of the bed where the laundry detail would collect it. “But we’re leaving.” She slung her backpack over her shoulder and grabbed his hand.

“Where are we going?”

Her only response was a smile. She led him down sector five, opposite Adriel’s section, and to the last room on the left.

“Lights, low,” she said as they entered and closed the door behind him. “While you were out getting us much needed sustenance, I was procuring a larger room.”

He whisked her into his arms, still holding the sack of fruit, and carried her to the full-sized bed. Compared to their beds at Valhalla, it was woefully inadequate, but compared to the twin mattress they had to contend with over the past twelve hours, it was a glorious upgrade.

He collapsed on the bed with her and pulled out an orange from the sack. She pushed him onto his back, straddling him. “Thank me properly first, and then we can eat,” she crooned, caressing his energy stream in electric waves.

“With pleasure,” he purred, shoving the fruit from the bed.

The next morning, with her arm curled around the crook of Cyrus’s elbow, she led him to the showers.

Bliss stitched a tapestry of pleasure and happiness around them as they walked by the railing under the bright light of day. She reached up, running her fingers through his hair and kissed him, still in shock he was there at her side in paradise.

“I haven’t used the open bay showers, but we have to pass them to get to the outdoor ones that offer the illusion of more privacy.” At the entrance of the showers, she no longer averted her eyes. Although the sight of so many naked bodies continued to make her uneasy. “It’s like something I’d expect to find in a prison or Army barracks, but all of them seem fine with it.”

In a corner, Talus showered beside Micah, chattering nonstop, so unlike her to ramble.

Cyrus must’ve noticed them as well. He turned his head away from the sight of his ward that he’d raised since she was a little girl. Talus spotted them and her eyes grew wide. She rinsed quickly, grabbed her towel and scampered off.

From the corner of Serenity’s eye, a golden surprise emerged. She pivoted, grinning with unadulterated happiness.

Adriel strutted toward them, fresh as morning dew and dripping wet.

“You’re back.” Her voice was too high from the excitement she could barely contain.

He stood beside her, his moist bare arm an inch from brushing hers. “We got back last night.” He dried his hair with a towel, leaving his lower body comfortably exposed. “We fueled your mother’s plane and took it.” No hint of an accent. “We would’ve been back sooner, but Neith sent me on a wild goose chase for a spice that didn’t exist. Can you believe she even had the gall to tell me not to come back without it?”

Serenity laughed. Adriel stared at Cyrus, who stood a couple of inches taller, his body wider and thicker with muscle.

“Cyrus, this is Adriel,” she said, wishing she had introduced him sooner. “He’s been a great friend to me.” Her heart hammered in her chest. “As well as to Nakia, Caelius’s
kabashem
.”

“Caelius is here?” Cyrus asked, cutting his eyes from Adriel.

“You didn’t see him? He helped me get through the blockade of warriors.”

“It’s good you’ve finally arrived.” Adriel gave a breezy smile, equal parts confident and playful. “Perhaps our Serenity will stop moping.”

Cyrus flinched. His energy stream, melded with hers, jostled. She didn’t detect nervousness, rather sensed an undercurrent of brittle emotion radiating from her
kabashem
.

“I didn’t mope,” she said to Cyrus.

“Ah, yes you did. Your eyes were lackluster. Now they sparkle. I’m certain your
kabashem
wants to know how much you missed him.” His gaze shifted to Cyrus. “She barely ate dinner most evenings, racked with sadness.” Adriel looked up as if thinking of something. “Then again, perhaps it had more to do with the difficulty she’s had with her mother.”

Cyrus’s gaze swung to her, but he said nothing.

The sensation of his feelings diminished, as if a breeze had stopped blowing and the distinct emotional wall had been raised.

“Things haven’t been easy with Sothis. We’ll discuss it later. Let’s go shower.” She tugged at his arm, wanting to get him away from Adriel.

Cyrus didn’t budge.

Her heart lurched into her throat. The sound of blood rushing in her head filled her ears.

With a smug expression, Adriel looked him up and down slowly, deliberately. “I’ll see to it fresh clothes in your mate’s size are sent to your room.”

“Thanks,” she said as he wrapped the towel around his neck and strolled away with his head held high, brazen in his natural glory. “Oh Adriel, I’m in different room now.”

“I know. I was going to your room last night to bring your art supplies and saw you moving. I didn’t want to intrude. I’ll have things for him sent to your new room.” He turned and strutted away.

Cyrus grasped her shoulder, wrenching her around. “He’s been to your room? He goes to your room at any hour of the night?”

“No,” she uttered, shaking her head. He stared at her, Black Dragon eyes on fire while she kept blinking, damn uncontrollable flutters. “Let’s shower.”

“You seem very familiar with one another.” He followed her to the outdoor showers, not quite at her side.

She shrugged. “Nope. He’s my friend like Nakia. Now, she’s been to my room.” Her voice cracked and she coughed.

“You didn’t blink once when he stood in front of you with his manhood in plain view.”

Her chest ached as though a boulder pressed down on her, making it difficult to breathe, pulse quickening. Maybe she was having a heart attack.

“You get used to that sort of thing after a while.” She stripped and turned on the outside shower. “See?” She stood under the running water with her eyes bulging out of her head in an effort not to blink.

He held her gaze as if he saw right through everything she’d said. A fierce look twisted his face, reminding her just how powerful and lethal her mate was. “Trust me. I see.”

When he turned to remove his clothes, she closed her eyes and focused on breathing. Slow, controlled, deep breaths from her diaphragm. Adriel might twinkle bright as a star in the sky, set in the bosom of her soul by his unnatural gift, but Cyrus was the sun, eclipsing all other heavenly bodies.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“I thought I’d find you here,” a man said, standing in front of their outside shower stall, holding a pile of folded clothes and sandals.

Cyrus maneuvered to block the view of his
kabashem’s
body under the running water with his own. Did no one here have any sense of decorum? At Herut, the body was admired, but there were always rules of etiquette, which were sorely lacking on Neith’s island.

First, the boy. Now this!

“Adriel caught me in the hall and said Cyrus needed some things.”

“Thank you, Soren,” Serenity said, peeking around.

Cyrus took the bundle from the male. “That was kind of him, and you for bringing them.”

“Once you’ve showered and changed,” Soren continued, “Neith wants you to report to the kitchen for your work detail.”

A haughty laugh rolled from Cyrus. “Work detail?”

“Yes,” Soren said flatly. “Everyone here is assigned to a work detail.”

Serenity touched his back in between his shoulder blades. “She’ll probably make you a team leader.”

“No,” Soren replied with a single shake of his head as if the idea were out of the question. “Lazarus is the team leader. Cyrus is to be a worker.”

“I’ll work,” Cyrus said, “but you have others better suited for menial labor. I’ll discuss this with Neith.”

“She anticipated as much and awaits you in the kitchen.” Without further discussion, Soren left them.

“Is Neith difficult?”

Serenity pulled him under the water, lathered a sponge with soap that smelled of honey and began washing his body. “She’s a dictator who rules with an iron fist.”

That would be a yes. He’d never been subjected to a lowly task in his entire life and it wouldn’t start here. He had no desire to offend his hostess, not only the oldest of their kind, but one who had reunited him with his mate.

Indebted or not, he’d be treated with the deference his position and bloodline deserved.

On the way to the first floor, Cyrus tossed his arm around Serenity’s shoulder, relishing the feel of her tucked close where she belonged.

“The kitchen is through there.” She pointed to double doors at the far side of the room.

Without a glance toward the kitchen, he proceeded to the breakfast buffet. Inquisitive gazes swung in their direction. Jaw tight, he took a tray and handed her one. The set-up was something better left in cafeterias, certainly beneath the Great Library, which had been shrouded in mystery and myth all these years.

They sat at an empty table, his back to a wall, where he could eye the doors to the kitchen.

“The boy, Adriel, mentioned you were having difficulty with your mother.” He bit into a speckled orange fruit. His mouth puckered at the bitter, tart taste, but he swallowed. He chugged the water in his cup to cleanse his palate.

“Even though she saved me and brought me here,” she confided in a low voice, pushing the food around her plate with her spork, “she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. It’s the first time she’s seen you in twenty-five years. Maybe she needs time.” He stroked her warm cheek. “Did she tell you what happened to your father? Why she never came back?”

She shook her head. Wisps of curly, damp hair brushed her face. “Adriel is a powerful healer. He restored my memories.” She looked at the gray glop on her plate. “My grandfather had my father killed in some sick game to manipulate my mother to serve the Paladins.” Pain welled in her eyes as she glanced at him. “I come from a twisted family full of psychopaths.”

Bad blood.
She already thought she came from a corrupted gene pool. Knowing the truth without reconciliation with her mother could push his mate further into that dark place where she saw herself as unworthy of love and incapable of motherhood. Wrapping his arm around her, he brought her close into his chest. Her sadness raked through their energy stream, but he sensed there was more she held back. He shouldn’t have raised such a delicate topic in a public setting.

His trusted friend, Elianus, approached their table. The warrior with a shaved head, imposing stature and skin the color of raw sienna knelt. “Lady Serenity, Wife of Cyrus, I am Elianus, son of Evander. May the almighty Creator have you in his keeping.”

“Please rise,” she said in a surprised voice.

“Join us, Elianus,” Cyrus said.

“I’ve already finished breakfast and must find Soren for my work detail, but I wanted to meet your
kabashem
.”

Serenity extended her hand, but Elianus looked to Cyrus. He nodded in approval, then Elianus took her hand gently.

“Cyrus has spoken of you with great affection,” she said brightly. “I hope we have a chance to know each other while we’re here.”

Her energy stream bubbled and thrashed.

“I trust we will.” Elianus shifted his gaze to Cyrus. “I have your belongings. Shall I deliver them to your room?”

“There’s no hurry. Good luck with your work detail. It has to be better than the kitchen.”

Elianus’s brow creased. “They plan to put you to work in the kitchen?” His friend’s repulsion of the idea rivaled his own.

“We shall see,” Cyrus said, jaw tensing again.

“May the almighty Creator hasten Abbadon’s efforts so you may be restored to your rightful status.”

“Thank you, old friend.”

Elianus wandered off, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath.

Cyrus glared at the kitchen doors, scooping a helping of the gray glop into his mouth. How did they manage to create sludge that tasted of bile and why would they serve it? If all of the food was this disgusting, he understood why his mate barely ate.

“What is this crap?”

She laughed, caressing the back of his neck. “Yaki. High in protein and quite filling.”

“Maybe I should be in the kitchen. They could use the help.”

“What good would you be in the kitchen? You don’t know how to cook.”

“True, but I know what tastes good. We won’t dine on such slop tonight.” He stood up and kissed her. “They’ll prepare us a proper dinner.”

Cyrus marched past the double doors into the kitchen.

As the doors swung shut, Neith pivoted to face him, breaking her conversation with a man dressed in light blue. “Cyrus.” She beckoned. “This is Lazarus. He’s in charge of the kitchen and your work detail for the week.”

“I appreciate your hospitality, Neith, and have nothing but the utmost respect for your—”

“The best way to show your gratitude is through compliance. The rank of Council or nobility holds no weight here. The only authority that counts is mine. You are talented beyond measure in many things, but I wish to see you grow in the areas you are lacking. Lazarus will give you instructions. I’m sure you will treat him and every other inhabitant of my island with due respect. Have a good day.”