“Men. My little one. All men.”
His kiss swept across my mouth. Alien lips, brushing and caressing. I breathed sharply, caught between fight or flight. One rough hand landed on my shoulder, pulling me in tighter, pressing me against the firm chest that had carried me the final couple of miles to this place of roses and rest.
“Let me make you feel better,” his whisper was low and rasped. His lips found mine again, swift and firm. His hand slid around my back, trailing a path across the thin fabric of my dress. And for one single moment I did feel better.
A flaming desire warmed in my belly. I forced it away. My traitorous body couldn’t even mourn Tristram. What sort of woman was I?
My thoughts didn’t matter. My knees softened, anchoring me against his chest as his arms wound around me, holding me tight.
Tristram… the name taunted me.
He’s dead.
Tristan….
I don’t know where he is.
“No!” I pushed against Augustus’ chest. “No. Please.”
His eyes were heavy lidded as he gazed at me from under long lashes. “Your power is intoxicating.”
My breath caught. “What do you mean?”
“I can taste it. And don’t think for one moment that woodsman couldn’t.”
“Stop it.” I forced myself out of his grasp. For the first time in weeks I felt the tingle of my power in the earth beneath my feet.
“You can feel it too.”
My eyes flew wide. “What do you mean?”
“You. Your power. It comes from nature, but it’s awakened by your emotions. The more you feel, the stronger it is.” He laughed loudly, any dreaminess of our kiss evaporating. “Oh, little one. You have so much to learn, and now you’ve been reawakened, it’s time to take you to the one who wants you the most.”
My blood chilled to ice in my veins. I’d been tricked.
So much of Augustus’ words made sense. My power had evaporated as my heart grieved for Tristram.
That’s why Augustus had been kind to me towards the end of the walk.
It wasn’t for me. It was for him. So he could deliver me to his boss the way I was wanted.
And my body and fickle heart had allowed it to happen.
But why?
Nothing was any clearer. All I was learning were more riddles and I was feeling more and more heartbreak with every moment that passed.
Chapter Nine
Rome. Everything the history books back home in Queens had promised, everything but the smell. No one mentioned the smell.
As we marched into Rome, Augustus preening like a fool over his successful capture of whatever he thought I was, the smell was awful. More than awful. And didn’t the girl from Queens know it. Right then I was only the girl from Queens. Anger and disgust kept the me from the present firmly in situ. Chastised and tricked, I was in my place.
The carriage carrying me, the prize, rocked as it bumped over the uneven ground. In front of me an enormous arena curved into the sky. Wide pillars of stone towers high above, far beyond the concept of the settlement I’d been taken from back in Scotland. What must the Roman conquerors have thought as they travelled the lands, finding only sporadic nomad clans with almost mud huts for homes. The brickwork was exquisite, bright mosaics decorated the front of the large houses.
I stared wide-eyed at the sheer volume of people. They were everywhere, bustling and busy. Market traders called their wares as we marched through. Our procession caused many to stare as we squeezed through the packed roads. It reminded me of New York City, packed and teeming, but everyone having time to stop and stare when something of interest caught the populous’ attention.
I sat back in my chair, trying not to catch anyone’s eyes.
I hadn’t spoken to Augustus since our moment in the healer’s garden. I hoped he could sense my displeasure. My power, now reawakened, had attempted to pull some trees down on him as we marched the final stages, but all I managed to do was make him laugh and tell his ‘Little Witch’ to try harder.
The Mage said nothing. She literally had said nothing, but her secret smile as we left the healing house told me she had been well aware of what Augustus’ plan had involved. Whether he had told her or not, she still knew.
I hated myself.
I hated him more.
But his words lingered in my mind.
Had Tristram just been attracted to me/Mae, because of her power? Had her power awakened because of her feelings? And what about me at Fire Stone? Tristan and I had hated each other on sight until my tingle of magic had slowly unfurled.
Who could I trust?
Hell, could I even trust myself?
As our troop of soldiers and me in the carriage made our way towards it, Palatine Hill loomed in the distance. For a moment I set aside my regrets and concerns and sat mesmerised by the sight.
This was Palatine Hill, the seat of power in Ancient Rome. And I was there, little ‘ol me from Queens.
The villas and buildings got bigger, more elaborate. When we halted outside the grandest villa, palatial and perfect, I knew we had arrived at where my long journey had been leading me.
I clung onto the chariot while The Mage swept forward. Away from the healing house, she was garbed once again in her black cloak, her silver hair hidden under the folds of the hood.
My own white dress was adorned by gold stitching, my hair woven with gem ornaments. The fact I was being delivered to the Emperor of Rome, the most powerful man in existence, like a stuffed overfed turkey was impossible to ignore.
I was a prize.
The Mage looked relaxed as she motioned me down. She was delivering me. I’d imagine her prize would be significant. My palms tingled with sweat, and my legs shook. There was no thrum of energy beneath my feet. The buildings were so compact there weren’t many trees to be
