Page 72 of Captive of the Stolen Empire

“You’re impossible.” Ilya stomped to the small chest of clothes that had been carted into the room at some point. Her things, packed for this short trip.

I took advantage of Ilya’s disappearance behind the screen to shed my clothes. The stiff jacket landed on a chair, followed by the shirt. Boots found a home on the floor. I jerked free the belt and turned for my things.

Fuck.I grimaced toward the door.

I’d forgotten a change of nightclothes when I’d come over here after dinner. They’d be in my trunk, stored in the room across the hall where my double now rested. I could fetch them, but knowing Ilya, she’d slide the dresser in front of the door and lock me out the moment I stepped into the hall.

I could leave her. Give her peace. Part of me wanted her to feel safe, comforted. Another part couldn’t pass up this opportunity. I needed to get back in her good graces, and only time with her would grant that. Not to mention seeing Ilya in her nightdress again.Gods.The slide of material teased my ears, tempting me with the fulfillment of that wish.

Soft furs caressed my skin as I settled atop the bed in only my pants. At home, I’d have removed those too, but not here. Not yet.

A creamy nightdress hugged Ilya’s curves as she stepped from behind the dressing screen, her hair loosely braided down her back.By The Four. The pale garment fit her body more divinely than those long, sleeveless dresses she preferred. She crossed her arms and scowled, but I hardly minded when her stance pulled the material tight against her chest.

“We discussed this.” She snapped and pointed to the floor as if beckoning a dog.

I smirked and patted the bed. “I won’t even touch you.”

It would be the hardest thing I’d ever done, but I would—for her.

Chapter32

Lucien

Ilya seethed anger, burning brighter than the dim lanterns she snuffed out one by one. Eventually, she settled on the edge of the bed, as far from me as possible. “To have a dagger,” she mumbled.

I bit my cheek to hold in a laugh. To see her wield a dagger, or any weapon for that matter, would be a delight. My cock twitched at the thought.

For long moments we lay in silent darkness. I stirred in my thoughts despite my attempts to avoid thinking about the events of the day and the mysteries that plagued me. Ilya tossed and turned, small grumbles filling the silence.

Despite the softness of the sheets and the comfortable mattress underneath me, I couldn’t find peace. If I thought of the woman lying on the bed with me, my desire for her rushed to the forefront, tempting me to act on it. Doing so wouldn’t earn me any favors. For long minutes I focused on my breathing to tame down the ache I couldn’t ease. But as I did so, other thoughts slipped in one by one, the events of the evening and Ilya’s thoughts on my origin replaying themselves over and over like a strong current I couldn’t escape.

No matter how hard I tried to block out those thoughts and rest, one possibility kept slicing through my thoughts like a cold night wind. “You think they could be my parents?”

I’d been so lost in my head I thought she might have finally drifted into sleep, but then Ilya turned toward me, her face a delicate form of shadow. “I do,” she whispered. “I can see the resemblance, even if you refuse to.”

I shuffled onto my side under the coverings. My body stiffened as I took in the shape of her face on the pillow next to mine. “I do see it.” Admitting it pained me more than exhausting my magic on the battlefield. “But I remember vague flashes of my parents. Similar, but different too. Not regal, nor confident. They were fearful, starving. They had a hint of wildness in their eyes like spooked horses. It’s only one memory, but it’s all I have of them.”

A deep ache settled in my chest, as painful as the time I cracked several ribs falling from a horse. I’d never told anyone about them—at least, not in a very long time.

“You miss them.” Her words jumped the space between us, seeping into the cracks in my defenses.

“Yes. It was so long ago, but I can never forget it.” It was all I had of them. However painful, however faded at the edges, I clutched that memory near. Truly, the memory was more a feeling now than anything, the details of their faces worn away by time, but it was painful and precious nonetheless.

A soft sigh slipped across the pillow. “We can’t change the past, not a one of us, but if these people might be yours too, it could be a second chance.”

“At what? They loathe me, Ilya.” I scooted closer. Cool blankets chilled my skin as I moved into new territory. “Even if by some chance I am related to them, I’m dead to them now. What do you think of me as? A killer? A monster?”

Heavy breaths filled the silence.Say something. Anything.

“Yes.”

The word punched the wind from my chest.

Then, so quiet I almost missed it, “But you’re more than that too.”

Those whispered words healed my aches better than any balm, any magic.

“Ilya.” I reached out, cupping her face, and for once, she didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry about what happened with your friends. That it was me who delivered their punishment. I’ve only been one thing for as long as I can remember, but you make me want to be something else, something more.”

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