Page 140 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
He presses his lips to her forehead, whispering as she drifts off to sleep, “Tu sei il mio tutto.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
MARCUS
Ilove you. I love you. I love you.
He wanted to say it a hundred times last night, the confession haunting his thoughts since the moment Dru walked inside the tabernae in Nusquam with Ovi. Even with her hood obscuring her features, he recognized her—recognized the gentle curves of her lips, the heart shape of her face, the gilded rings in her eyes. He’d know her anywhere, and yet his memory of her was like a painting poorly drawn from memory.
He wakes up in the middle of the night with those words in his thoughts and on his tongue.
The three simple words can’t begin to describe the truer depths of his feelings for Dru. He would burn Phaedra to the ground and slaughter every senator in the Imperium if it meant that she’d be safe, that he could hold her in his arms for the rest of their lives.
Yet, as much as it pains him, he can’t say those words to her. Not yet.
Despite his best efforts to restrain himself, a variation of them managed to slip out in the Durevolian tongue before he could stop them. Thankfully, sleep had already taken her.
If everything goes according to the plan he and Cato came up with should the worst happen, she’ll be out of his reach. Saying it to her—admitting it aloud—might make him change his mind. Not as if what happened didn’t changeeverything, but he might be tempted to take her and run, leaving Cato to fend for himself in the final trial.
And he can’t allow that.
Remembering her confessions, how her body felt against his, how she responded to his touch… He’d imagined it thousands of times before, but nothing he conjured in his own mind lived up to the reality. Last night was, without a single doubt, the best night of his life.
He pulls Dru to him, missing her body against his despite the warmer night?—
A loud banging at his door causes him to flinch. Dru stirs, pressing the top of her head into his chin and curling into him. Want and lust cloud his judgment as her nipples brush against his chest. His hand flattens on the small of her back, his cock hardening again at the softness of her body against his.
Another knock comes, louder and harder. He groans.
“Tell them to go away,” she murmurs, voice pleasantly rough with sleep as she arches into him.
Stellae.Clenching his hands to stop from touching her, he moves to get up, planning to do just that as quickly as possible. But she places her arm over him, barely opening her eyes in the near-darkness of his room.
“No, from here. They don’t need to see you for you to tell them to fuck off.”
He chuckles, brushing her wild hair back from her face. “I would, but I might be needed.”
Her eyes flutter closed again and she removes her arm. “Go on, then.”
Quickly pressing his lips to hers, she responds in kind, softening.
He crawls out of bed, throws on the tunic he shucked off earlier, and opens the door barely enough to see who it is.
One of his younger guards, Gio, holds a bloody shirt in his hand, eyes wide in fear.
Marcus’s pulse rises instantly, and he opens the door wider, still blocking any possible view of the bed. Ice slices down his back, fear and duty replacing all thoughts of going back to Dru.
“Gio, what is it? What’s happened?”
The young man gulps in air, and Marcus fights not to lose his patience.
“The king,” he wheezes. “Someone tried to assassinate the king.”
Panic seizes Marcus, but he tempers his reaction. Gio saidtried, which means Cato is still alive.
“What’s been done about the attacker?”
Gio tightens his grip on the shirt in his hand. “Dead. He’s dead.” Likely by Gio’s own hand.Good.
