Protector of the Flame (39 page)

“It hurt not to merge with you. I’m sorry,” she said into his chest. “I tried.”

“I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean it.”

She gazed up at him. “Yes you did. You were right. I have been draining you. I don’t know why and I can’t make it stop.”

“That doesn’t excuse the way I spoke to you or the things I said.” He held her by the shoulders. “You told me once that what came before us is dust and ash. Do you remember?”

Tears filled her eyes and she nodded.

“You’re my love, my life. If I could change my past to ease your mind, I would. Tell me again that what came before us means nothing, not Evan and not Lysandra.”

She bit back her tears. “What came before us is dust and ash.” Her gaze fell from his face to the sand. The discontentment between them wasn’t about Lysandra. And although she would never bring it up again, it didn’t solve their current problem.

“I’m proud of the way you handled yourself earlier with the warrior who had blood rage. I only feared for your safety. Let’s go back to our room.”

She pulled away. “You should go back.”

“Not without you.”

“It’s the only way you’ll rest and wake refreshed.”

He raised her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “And where will you sleep?”

“I don’t sleep anymore.”

Concern flooded his face.

“I lie awake watching you sleep, feeding off you. When I get restless, I sketch.” She often wanted to go to the library to read, but had been too cautious to tempt fate by leaving their bedroom in the middle of the night without him knowing. Surely, the night he awakened early to discover her gone would be the same night Adriel wouldn’t be able to sleep and would wander up to do some reading of his own. Although he’d catch them laughing over something inconsequential in an open space, rather than the private confines of Adriel’s boudoir, it would be misinterpreted as it had been that one day a few weeks ago. She couldn’t risk Adriel’s life over a little light reading.

“You don’t sleep at all?”

She shook her head.

“For how long?”

“I don’t know, weeks. It’s gotten progressively worse.”

“You should speak to Carin first thing in the morning.”

“There’s nothing she can do.”

“She tried to heal you?”

Not Carin. Adriel. “I can’t be healed.”

Silence. He understood what she meant in her poorly phrased answer. “Why didn’t you go to Carin?” A flash of anger punched through the words.

“Adriel’s more powerful, if he can’t heal me, I can’t be healed.” If the most powerful healer of their kind couldn’t help her, she was doomed.

He rubbed her arms and shoulders. “I can’t leave you out here alone.”

“There are sentinels all over keeping watch. I won’t be in any danger.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t feel right. I won’t be able to sleep if you’re not in the room.”

She smiled bleakly. “Unfortunately, I think you’ll sleep too well without me.”

No dispute from him on that point. “I’d rather have you upstairs with me.”

“Please. Let’s try it tonight.” She caressed his cheek. “You have bags under your eyes and you’re pale.”

He stared at her for a long time, searching her face, deliberating. There could only be one thing keeping him from agreeing.

“You don’t trust me.” She didn’t know if she meant it as a question or a statement.

“I trust you with my life and my heart. My only concern is for your safety. Besides, the boy knows you’re mine.”

She laughed. He gave her a queer look, not seeing the humor in his words.

“Well if that’s the case, can you dispense with the hickeys?”

He stroked her neck. “I’m sorry about that. Your scent has shifted. You smell earthier, sweeter, more luscious. It’s been driving me nuts…” He stopped talking as if he thought of something important.

“What is it?”

“You smelled that way in Morocco…when you were pregnant.”

She stared at him, not quite sure what he was getting at.

“I noticed your scent changing after you’d been shot back in Valhalla, but I wasn’t really focused on it. By the time we got to Morocco, I couldn’t get enough of your smell.”

Her thoughts collided as her gaze drifted to the ocean. “Wouldn’t I know?” Her cycles had never conformed to a human schedule. Quite frankly, she had no idea how she would know, outside of pure female instinct, which she clearly lacked, for a second time.

“You haven’t been in heat since I worked the laundry detail.”

“So soon?” They’d just gotten pregnant and lost the child. After everything, their fortune couldn’t suddenly be this good.

“Our females usually take quite some time to get pregnant once, much less twice, but you must be.”

All the dots connected. Why the siphoning has been beyond her control. What Adriel must have seen the night he tried to heal her. But why didn’t he tell her she was pregnant when he realized there was nothing wrong with her?

“I’d say you’re about ten weeks along.” He lifted her into his arms, squeezing until she couldn’t breathe. “It’s the only logical explanation for so much.” He set her down.

“Such as?” she asked flatly, uncertain what to feel.

“Your cravings and mood swings.”

Hiking both brows in disbelief, she gawked at him. “My mood swings?”

“And why I want to rip Adriel’s head off every time I see him.” His tone, both serious and jovial, concerned her. Stroking her face, he said, “Don’t worry, I won’t kill your puppy.”

“I don’t understand. I wasn’t in
esuratus
that day in the library when you sent him flying into a wall.”

“It wasn’t a wall, it was bookcase,” he clarified as if it sounded better. “If I had seen his hands on you while you were in heat, he wouldn’t have gotten up from the floor.”

“Then why did you hurt him?”

“Males still get very protective when their females are pregnant. Besides, all puppies have to learn the rules. He needed to understand what’s permissible and what’s not allowed.” Cyrus shrugged. “And he caught me on a bad day.” He wrapped his arm around her and began walking to the main building. “I think I’ve been quite tolerant where he’s concerned, considering the circumstances.”

His forbearance regarding Adriel was one of the kindest acts of love she’d ever known. Rubbing his sleek torso, she put her head against his chest. “You have and I’m grateful.”

“But the minute he forgets his place and dares to piss where he shouldn’t, I’ll have to roll up a newspaper and teach him another lesson.”

“I don’t think the A.S.P.C.A. would agree with your training methods.”

“All dogs respect dominance.”

Crossing through the field of plumeria, she glanced at him. “This doesn’t change our problem.” She stopped walking. “I’m still draining you.”

They couldn’t ignore the effect it was having on her mate.

“I’m happy to nourish you and my unborn child.” His eyes sparkled, but it was too dark to see a shimmer of blue.

“Well, I’m not happy with what I’m doing to you.”

“I won’t let you stay out here alone. Let’s go back to the room, let me get some sleep and we’ll discuss it in the morning.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

There was no arguing with the possessive urge driving Cyrus. Serenity stayed tucked under his arm as they walked quietly back to the room, ignoring the stares from the sentinels. She climbed into bed beside him and waited for him to drift asleep. It didn’t take long.

Putting her running clothes on, she scribbled a note explaining he needed to rest and assured him she would let the sentinels know she was traipsing about so that they could keep an eye out for her.

Meandering through the garden, she came across Argyle who was on nightshift and explained her inability to sleep and desire to walk.

“You’re safe to roam wherever you please. I’ll alert the others to your presence, if you believe it will put your mate at ease,” he replied.

She went down to the long strip of beach on the far side of the olive grove and watched the waves break on the shore.

The night was endless. The longest she had ever experienced, each minute taking doubly long to pass, the darkness stretching on as if it were eternity.

With no one to talk to, her thoughts for her only companion, she considered returning to their room, but Cyrus needed to sleep and replenish his stream. He couldn’t do that if she was within two hundred feet of him.

Pregnant. She still couldn’t believe it.

No wonder her stream acted as if it had a life of its own. Now it did. She rubbed her belly. “I know your daddy is irresistible, but we’ve got to give him a break.” Her stream stirred. She wondered if it could hear her. “We’re not leaving him enough.” Her pool gurgled in response.

We’ll see if that works
, she thought and laughed. Somehow she knew parenthood wouldn’t be so simple.

Getting pregnant had been a feat. There was no amulet around her neck to sabotage this pregnancy, but Aten and Sekhem still worked against them.

Abbadon hadn’t sent any messages. If he failed, she might not live long enough to bring the child into the world. They wouldn’t be safe until this baby was born.

How could she risk loving it when it might not survive? The last thing she needed to do was start talking to it. She’d talk to it and scold it for sucking Cyrus dry when she could hold it in her arms, and not before then.

The sky steadily brightened. A silvery shade of dusky cerulean hung over everything, washing it in one peaceful color.

Chanting drifted on the wind. Slowly, it drew closer.

“Ooh, ah.” Repeated over and over like a chorus in song.

A female voice cried out above it. “In order to be better, in order to be stronger, you must push through.” It was Sothis.

“Ooh, ah.”

“You feel no pain. Your body doesn’t know fatigue.”

“Ooh, ah.”

“Your warm-up is over. Move faster!”

A formation, sprinting at lightning speed, jetted past Serenity along the beach. Sothis flew above it, shifted and shouting. The chorus died as their pace increased.

The urge to run compelled her to follow. Knowing she had no hope of keeping their pace, the challenge was enough to excite her. She needed to burn off some energy and now she had the greatest rabbit of all to chase.

“The day will come when you’ll face your greatest adversary. What will you tell Asar if you fail? That you were too weak to prevail or too slow to conquer the beast?” her mother shouted.

Asar, the god of the underworld and Aset’s husband, weighed the souls of the dead to see who was worthy of heaven and who would be destroyed forever. Reading about the Egyptian myths was a pleasant diversion from some of the heftier subjects Neith had her go through.

Serenity sprinted just to stay within earshot. Once the beach ended and turned into a strip of slick rocks, she stopped, watching them fade in the distance. A jagged wall of rock loomed behind her. It was the cliff where she’d learned how to play chess. Adriel’s cliff.

Climbing over rocks, she took her time and made her way around to the other side to the steps. She hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be without Adriel’s assistance. Maneuvering to the edge closest to the wall, she moved faster up the smaller stones.

She ran up the rocky steps, taking them one at a time. Loose gravel shifted under her foot the wrong way. She slipped and slid down the steep, rough slope. Earth and rock slid beneath her. She reached out for the side, groping for anything and caught hold of a thick, exposed root.

Dangling with sharp rocks below, she wished she’d gone slower.

Argyle appeared and descended beside her. She hadn’t noticed anyone watching her. He grasped her under her armpits and lifted her to the top, where Adriel sat waiting for sunrise.

“Thank you,” she said as she was set on the ground and waved as Argyle flew off.

“What are you doing up here?” Adriel stood. “You shouldn’t climb up on your own,” he said sharply.

“You told me I could come here to find you.”

“That was before.” He went to the edge where he sat, legs hanging off the side.

“Before you knew I was pregnant?”

He lowered his head, shoulders bunched. “I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

“Actually, Cyrus figured it out last night.”

He laughed under his breath.

“Glad you find it so amusing. It would’ve been nice to know weeks ago.” She peered over the side of the cliff.

A whoosh of vertigo made her stumble backwards. He jumped up, moving her away from the edge and sat her down.

“How far along am I?”

“Seventy-six days.”

The exact number without hesitation stole her breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was ashamed.” He sat cross-legged in front of her, knees pressed against hers, eyes lowered. “That night in your room when you asked me to heal you, I thought I’d come to your rescue, curing you of your ills and restoring your balance. And then I sensed the fetus. I was envious of Cyrus and angry you carried his child. I felt such shame over those feelings.”