foul tang in her mouth and the haunted citrine eyes of her husband staring intently at her. He chased the servants from the room and returned to her side.
“Meri?” she croaked.
“You must be thirsty,” he said, proffering a glass in an instant.
He helped her sit up and drink. The liquid was bliss on her throat, washing away the taste on her tongue. Her mind muddled, she simply leaned against him, head cushioned by his chest. In that moment she simply breathed him in, existed, warm and safe in his arms. She placed a hand over his heart, surprised to find it hammering. He wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed. As sleep faded and the waking world came into sharper focus, she noticed the distinct feel of bare skin grazing her bare nipple. Finding herself nude, Taisiya froze. She might have blushed, but for the memory of a blade sinking into her.
“What happened?”
Mereruka tensed, releasing a shaky breath.
“We were cursed the moment we fell asleep in this bed. We sleepwalked into the desert, where the former nomarch’s heir planned to kill us. You woke first and he stabbed you. Bas and Vasilisa found and saved us. We removed the blade and you fainted. But when we returned, we discovered that the blade had also been cursed. Corruption is foul magic, illegal even for a royal to use, and incurable by normal fae magic. Only dragon blood or healing light can cure it. We were able to procure some.”
Taisiya took a moment to absorb it all. The shock must be numbing her. She couldn’t find it in her to feel fear or anger.
“I guess we’re not dragons after all,” she quipped.
Mereruka was on her in the blink of an eye, looming over her, her wrists captured in his hands. He pressed her down with the weight of his body as his violet hair curtained their faces. It was as if the whole world outside had disappeared and she was alone with a man coming undone.
“Don’t… don’t joke,” he said, his voice tight.
He released her wrists without a fuss. Her thumbs stroking his high cheekbones, he leaned into her palm, seeking her comfort. She ran fingers through his silky violet strands, careful of his ears.
“You almost died,” he whispered, tortured.
“I know,” Taisiya replied.
She would never forget it. It took an effort of will to banish the thoughts from her mind.
“I forbid you from dying!” he growled.
Heart skipping a beat, she searched his desperate eyes. Warmth blossomed in her chest, unbidden. This was not the reaction one had for a mere co-conspirator. Could he truly care for her? She felt ashamed to admit that she wanted more than just his respect and the crown their combined efforts would bestow. She wanted his tender feelings, his love, his passion. Gods below, she was well and truly sunk now.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
He hesitated, eyes locked on her lips.
“I don’t think I can be gentle right now.” He swallowed.
“Then don’t be gentle.”
As soon as the words left her, his lips crushed hers. His tongue swept along hers, possessing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, a hand gripping a fistful of his hair, as much a lifeline as a leash. But her husband seemed to have no intention of escape. His violet strands wrapped around her wrist, a silken shackle. When he pulled her close, not even a whisper of air separated them, their bodies melded so that she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. Only his kilt separated them as their legs tangled. Hand shaking as he gripped her, one slid down her waist. She moaned as he slanted his lips across hers, deepening his furious kiss.
This was what she’d always craved, this mindless passion.
“Gods, get a fucking room,” Vasilisa taunted.
Vasilisa’s voice was like a bucket of freezing water, dousing the flame building between them. It appeared she needed a word with her friend about timely entrances and the lack thereof.
Mereruka reluctantly pulled his lips from hers, his tongue sweeping across her bottom lip. Taisiya shivered as his eyes, darkened by lust, continued to stare at her lips, as if he were staring at some great prize. When he turned his face to speak, Taisiya ducked her head against his neck, the better to hide her blush.
“We’re in a room, Vasilisa. Our room,” he grated between ragged breaths.
“Then get a different one. She needs to recover,” Vasilisa retorted.
Mereruka sighed and muttered a prayer. Taisiya’s lips curled up at the corners. His hair unravelled from her wrist and she grudgingly released her hold on it. Gone were his haunted eyes. Glamour? Or had he truly recovered? As he pulled away, he took his solid warmth with him. She missed it already. It must have been obvious. When he went to stand, he pulled the thin sheet up over her and winked.
“Cock-block,” he grouched at Vasilisa.
“Go bitch to someone who cares.”
Mereruka chuckled.
“And go take a bath. You reek.”
Mereruka waved with a rude gesture before he disappeared into the adjacent bathing room. Vasilisa returned the gesture with a grin before she turned to Taisiya. The moment Mereruka was gone, Vasilisa launched herself at Taisiya.
“You scared me half to death,” Vasilisa whispered.
Taisiya petted Vasilisa’s wild blonde curls as the darkness mage shook in her arms. Her grip tightened as memories assailed her. Breathe, she reminded herself. The blade was no longer in her gut. The agony was a memory. She was whole. She was safe.
“You saved me. I’m still here. Thank you, Vasilisa,” Taisiya murmured.
Vasilisa pulled away, turning her head to hide the evidence of a traitorous tear. She would not—could not—die, not like that, leaving her friend behind. Not knowing what she knew, aware of where her friend would go, never to return. She’d sworn long ago to drag her back into the light and keep her there, and Taisiya would be damned before she broke that vow.
“Don’t cry, or I’ll be forced to stuff you full of sweets and call you Va-va.”
Vasilisa scowled.
“Gods forbid. You’re not cute enough for that to work anymore.”
Taisiya chuckled. Vasilisa managed a small grin. Voices drifted from the bathroom. Mereruka and Bas. She recognised the sound, but couldn’t make out the words.
“It was a joint effort,” Vasilisa sighed. “Even the kitty. If he hadn’t found the body, we might not have…”
Taisiya took Vasilisa’s hand and squeezed. Their eyes spoke the words they dared not utter. Taisiya was alive, and she wasn’t going anywhere Vasilisa could not follow. Vasilisa released a shaky breath and nodded, squeezing her hand before she chased away the shadows in her grey eyes.
“Anyway, I’ll help you get dressed and fed.”
Taisiya nodded.
“What’s become of the nomarch’s family?” she asked.
Vasilisa flinched, a flicker of darkness creeping up her spine, there one moment and gone in a blink. She was quiet for a moment as she pulled a simple dress from a nearby wardrobe.
“We all agreed that mercy wasn’t an option. Not for the adults. They’re dead now. The children have been exiled.”
“Good.” Taisiya fisted her hands as she looked down at her belly. There was no evidence of the violence, save for the fear trickling down her spine. A new horror for her to revisit in the dead of night when her defences were down. She released her breath slowly. She would overcome it. A Dragonsblood could overcome anything, save death itself. “Any dissent as a result?”
Vasilisa helped her into the dress and began brushing her hair. The gentle tug on her scalp soothed her. This assassination attempt would no doubt be one of many. She had to have her wits about her.
“Not after Mereruka put your bloody dress and the cursed blade on display at the execution. The lesser nobles complained that they didn’t want the bodies to be buried anywhere near the traditional burial grounds.”
Taisiya raised her brow.
“The curse is that terrible?”
“The kitty explained that in Maat, it’s on the same level as using iron, if not worse. They take a dim view of things they’re incapable of curing with their own magic. In better news, that famous architect heard about what happened and demanded to be the one to build your palace. He swore to make it curse-proof. Naturally, we accepted.”
“Naturally,” Taisiya replied. “I suppose we return to Rhacotis soon?”
At the very least, her suffering had not been in vain. A curse-proof palace was quite the boon, especially when she didn’t have glamour to hide all manner of protections inked into her skin. Perhaps she should start having them stitched into all of her clothing?
“I’m afraid not,” Mereruka said as he re-entered the bedroom, still dripping from his bath. She followed one such droplet with her eyes. A tendril of dark violet lay plastered against his chest, outlining his pectorals, his taught abdomen. The strand ended at his hip bone, and there the droplet rolled down his muscular thigh. She hadn’t seen him fully nude in broad daylight, and hadn’t had the moxie to stare overlong. Now that she did, she noticed the distinct lack of hair anywhere but on his head. It made certain things appear…prominent. Oblivious to her heated gaze, he dried his hair with a towel. It was the only part of him covered by one. Taisiya reluctantly tore her gaze away from the alluring sight.
“Ew,” Vasilisa said flatly, turning away. “At least put on your weird damn skirt.”
“I swear I told him to,” Bas grumbled.
Taisiya blushed, realizing she hadn’t even noticed the shifter as he’d exited the bathroom.
Mereruka chuckled.
Vasilisa flicked her ear when Taisiya tried to turn her head to get another peek at her husband.
“S-so, we won’t be returning to Rhacotis?” Taisiya asked.
“No. Bas just informed me that the inundation has officially begun. Khety will commence the journey to the Court of the Inundation, the northernmost palace, and we’ve been invited…” He said the word with disdain. “To join the court for the season, along with the rest of my siblings, so that he might celebrate our union.”
Taisiya’s nails bit into her palm. No doubt the season would end with either them dead, or Khety. By the look in Meri’s eyes, he thought so too.
Vasilisa snorted.
“So that he might take our measurements for our coffins, more like,” Bas said.
“Precisely,” Mereruka added with a grim smile.
“No rest for the wicked, I suppose,” Taisiya sighed.
Her first weeks in Maat were shaping up to be hectic indeed.