Bearing her no ill will, Imogene had forgiven her, and in the next breath she’d accepted her position as Aurora’s newest acolyte. Aurora had been pleased, even as she’d been torn, knowing Imogene would one day learn the position Aurora had been in when she’d left her behind to suffer. The girl would one day face the decisions Aurora had faced, and she wondered if Imogene would truly understand how difficult it had been for Aurora to do what she’d done, even as it had been unavoidable.
One day
, Aurora reasoned, but not that day, and not for many days she acknowledged as she returned her thoughts to her more immediate matter of settling into Antium—which given all that had transpired, Aurora was taking the many changes within her life relatively good-naturedly—
well
, at least the branch within Antium was proceeding smoothly.
She could not say she had taken the news of her condition quite as well.
Her mind still rebelled against it, and it would seem her body still protested against the presence of another being inside of her as well.
Aurora’s stomach roiled with the meager contents of her supper. She was four full moons along now—the midwife had assured her that her sour stomach and retching would be at an end by this time.
Aurora glowered at the ceiling of her chambers as she lay across her bed trying to find a position comfortable enough so that her stomach could settle. Maybe this night would be the one she found rest, she hoped, but she did not spare a prayer to the gods, lest it be wasted.
She silently cursed Cyrus’ name then, as she seemed apt to do every night since she’d learned of her condition—a condition she’d been told long ago she’d never face. After a childhood illness she’d been assured she’d never bear a child, which was why she’d been well-suited to her duties
within The Order. And after so many years she never would have imagined such a thing was even possible.
She glanced down at her swollen belly.
Not possible.
A sardonic snort burst forth.
There are times when the body heals itself
, the midwife had shared with Aurora.
We cannot explain the miracle, we can only accept it as a gift from the gods.
A gift or a curse, Aurora had thought at the time. She’d not been prepared for such a fate, had long ago accepted she’d never have a child. Once the shock had passed, however, Aurora had welcomed the news, though she was still given to cursing Cyrus’ name, for it appeased the ache in her heart—at least for awhile.
And then she would feel
nothing
but the anger, until it waned, and then the pain would set in, threatening to bring tears to her eyes. Yet, before the moisture could spill over her lids, the babe within her would stir, reminding her of the love she’d once shared with its father, the love he’d once bore her. Tender feelings for Cyrus and the child growing inside her would fill her then until the pain inside her heart simply eased.
It had been this way every night since she’d left Capena, and Aurora worried it would be this way every night for the rest of her life. Longing for Cyrus, aching for him until her body quieted the stirrings of her mind and the pain within her heart, by coaxing itself to sleep.
Aurora prayed to the gods this would not be so because neither her heart, nor her mind, could endure for much longer.
With the babe now quiet and her stomach settled, Aurora’s eyes slipped closed and she began to drift off, only to awaken with a start at the sound of her name thundering against the walls of the temple.
She shot up from her bed, imagining she was dreaming. She’d cursed his name so many times, she’d seen his face within the shadows of her dreams so many more, she considered she’d finally conjured him out of her imagination.
But she soon realized the deep baritone bellowing her name was definitely
not
an imagining. She hurriedly dressed and stepped from her chambers, but drew up short when several pairs of wide eyes stared curiously at her.
“Return to your quarters,” she instructed Imogene, along with the six young acolytes who’d been awakened.
Obeying her command, they returned to their rooms, although, one lone figure remained in the hall.
“He is here.”
She scowled at Artemisia. “It would appear so.”
“What shall you do?”
Aurora wanted to tell her that she would turn him away, of course, but she would not lie to her friend. “I do not know.
“But I will deal with him,” she said, brushing past Artemisia to climb the winding steps and pass through the three levels of securely locked chambers before she opened the final door by completing the sequence to step into the main temple area.
The raised altar stood between them and she glared at him from her position on the other side.
“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, crossing the space that separated them to stand before him. “You break into the sacred temple of Minerva at this late hour, bellowing my name. Are you mad?”
Cyrus smiled, his face radiating with happiness. “Aurora,” he exclaimed, moving to close the last of the distance between them. “I have spent so many days imagining this moment—”
Aurora reared away from him before he could cup her cheek, her eyes flashing hotly, unable to believe he stood there expecting her to embrace him warmly.
“And what did you imagine of this moment? That I would welcome you into my arms? That I would throw myself into yours?”
The look upon his face said that was exactly what he’d imagined. She glared at him.
In turn, his gaze strayed to her belly, his eyes filling with surprise. “You’re—”
“So what if I am? How did you find me anyway?”
“It was certainly not easy.” He paused at the wicked ember that flared in her eyes.
Good
, she thought. She was glad something had not been easy for him, because nothing of these past months had been easy for her.
“I returned to Capena to pay Cornelia a visit, but that was probably the most arduous task of all. I could not simply return as a free man calling upon her, because in order to get me safely from there on the night of Claudius’ death she had to fake my own. Whatever was in that vial fooled Lycurgus well enough for him to believe the stab wound was enough to kill me and he rolled me from there in a cart to be cremated. Cornelia joined me just as I was coming to some hours later, but needless to say everyone thought me dead so I had to wait several days for her to leave the villa alone and unguarded so that I could speak with her.”
She nodded at him, her arms folded across her chest, appearing impatient for him to finish, yet, her actions belied her own heart. She was not impatient for him to finish, or for him to leave. She was overjoyed to find him there, to know he had sought her out. Still, she remembered he’d sought her out
after
he’d returned home, and she grew angry all over again.
“Cornelia told me of Olympia,” he continued, either oblivious to her mounting fury, or pretending to ignore it. “So I traveled to Ostia, and did as I just did here. She was not happy to see me either, and she questioned me mercilessly before she would tell me a thing. She wanted to know if my intentions were honorable, if I loved you truly.” Cyrus’ eyes were wide, his expression incredulous. “I felt as if I was asking for the blessing from your father. It was strange, but she finally told me your whereabouts, and I set out for Antium at once.”
“At once?” Her eyes nailed him where he stood. “You did not set out for Antium
at once
, for it would have taken you only a few weeks to arrive here instead of nearly two months.” Her glower was dark. “You went to Thrace first, you went home to Sorina, long before you
ever
decided to come here to me.”
“As I said I would,” he said quietly. “But I only stayed a week before I set out to find you.”
“And how does Sorina fare?”
“Aurora—”
She heard the warning in his voice, but she did not heed it. He had no cause to be angry with her, he had no cause to deny her anything, not when all she desired was the truth.
“How does she fare, Cyrus?” she repeated, her voice sharper.
“She is well,” he bit out. “She is wed again, with one son and one babe soon to arrive. She is happy.” His eyes narrowed. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
She did not answer him. “And your brother? What of him?”
“He is dead.”
Aurora had not been expecting such news, and her expression gentled. “I am sorry,” she said quietly until she remembered what his brother had done and her eyes rounded, her voice shaking as she asked, “D—did you kil—”
“Kill him?” Cyrus frowned. “Of course not, Aurora. He was betrayed by whomever he sold me to. He’s been dead for as long as I was gone.”
Aurora fell silent, not knowing what else to say. So many days and as many nights she’d imagined this moment, but she had not prepared herself for the anger she would feel, the hurt at knowing he’d chosen another over his love for her.
“Why are you here, Cyrus?”
He reared back as if she’d struck him, staring at her from eyes wide with disbelief.
“Why do you think? I’m here because I love you, Aurora, because you are my life—”
“Your life?” She raked him over hot coals with her eyes. “Your honor is your life, not me. If I were your life, Cyrus,
nothing
would have stopped you from finding your way to me—”
“I
have
found my way to you, Aurora, but what sort of man would I have been had I not returned home just once? Tell me, truly, could you have looked me in the eye knowing I’d abandoned my tribe and duties to my family so easily, without regard or remorse?”
He was right, she
would
have thought less of him, but that did not change how she felt, that did not change the pain still clinging inside her breast.
When he reached for her again, she shook her head. She still was not ready to accept his touch, she was not ready to offer him her forgiveness.
“You have no idea what it was like, living these past months with doubts of the depth of your love for me. I would tell myself you loved me, but then I would wonder if that was a lie, if when you returned home you would discover you loved Sorina after all. Even now I am left to wonder, did you come to me because you love me, or because you simply had no choice. I am still wondering if genuine feelings drove you or if seeing Sorina and knowing she’d moved on made you realize you had to do the same—”
“Aurora—”
She ignored him. “You come here expecting me to fall into your arms because all this time you
knew
of your feelings for me, you
knew
you loved me. When you went to Capena, then Ostia, searching for me, you were happy because all this time you were secure in your love for me as you made your way here. But what of me, Cyrus? I knew no such thing. I was not quite as happy as you seemed to be these past months because I did not believe you would
ever
come for me. So forgive me if I appear less than enthused, because until this very moment I was miserable thinking I was never to see you ever again.”
Aurora knew that comprehension had dawned inside him because his eyes shimmered with the weight of his guilt, but she did not have it within her to take his guilt away with sweet words, not this time.
She had spoken truth. Aurora had been miserable every night as she imagined this was to be the night he made love to the woman he’d left behind, this was the night his wife felt the touch of her husband’s skin to hers, while Aurora’s bed was cold and empty.
“Tell me, Aurora, whatever it is, whatever I must do, so that you will know how deeply you are within my heart. I risked my life for you, I would have died for you. You are my very heart beating inside of me and that you could ever doubt my love kills me, so please tell me what I must do so that I can make this right, and I shall do it.”
Her heart nearly broke at the anguish on his face, the sorrow in his eyes, and this time when he reached out to cup her face, she let him.
“I love you,” he whispered brokenly. “Whatever I must do to earn your forgiveness, I shall. Whatever you need so that you will know you are my heart, my entire soul, tell me Aurora, and you shall have it.”
She’d once betrayed him, her actions had nearly killed him, and still he’d forgiven her. Were his sins so grave she could not do the same, was her love for him so fragile that she could not open her heart to him as he’d opened his to her?
Aurora did not wish for Cyrus’ suffering, she wanted only to know she was first in his heart. That he was there, begging her forgiveness, was more than she needed, more than she wanted, and it told her everything she needed to know of his love for her.
She did not respond to Cyrus with words, instead she curled her hand in his hair and brought his lips to hers. With the first brush of his mouth, her toes curled with pleasure, and a bone melting fire inflamed her blood, igniting ever part of her.
As she kissed him, she poured her heart into him, her entire soul, until every piece of them was bonded, every part of them forever entwined.
Aurora did not know what the future held for them, what the future held for The Order.
With a wry thought, she did not even know where Cyrus would live just yet, because she did not imagine a man had any place within Minerva’s temple, but maybe that would change.