Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 118699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 593(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 593(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
“We’ve not often spoken of your mother,” he said, sorrow in his heart for the absence of his own memories of Citrine.
Xander lit up as he talked of his mother. “She was clever, but gentle and calm with it, while Papa was a fighter to the bone—he wasn’t hotheaded, but he was . . . big. In his emotions, in how he spoke, in what he wanted out of life.”
“Yes, Rohan was always a child bold.”
“It wasn’t until I was well past a hundred that I saw that Mama had her own power—and it came from being at peace. True peace, Grandfather, I’ve come to realize, is a rare commodity. Not many, mortal or immortal, ever achieve it. But my mother had it all my life. As if . . . as if she could hear the breath of the universe and was attuned to it.”
“I think,” Alexander said roughly when he could speak again, “you have more than a little of your mother in you, Xander. I see Citrine clearly now.”
A deepening of Xander’s smile. “She liked you, did you know that?” When Alexander shook his head, Xander said, “She used to tell me stories about my legendary grandfather, and she taught me that my father was such a good papa because you’d been a good papa to him.”
Alexander swallowed the lump in his throat. “You’ve given me much joy today, Xander.”
The two of them walked a touch farther before Xander spoke again. “May I ask how you met Lady Zanaya?” Adoration in his tone. “I’ve never known anyone like her.”
“Will you challenge me for her then?”
Streaks of color on Xander’s cheekbones. “Grandfather, I would never—”
Alexander laughed and hugged an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, child. I couldn’t help myself.”
A sharp look. “See? You’re younger with her, because of her. Not so . . . weighed down by power and life.”
* * *
* * *
Alexander found himself mulling over his grandson’s words long after Xander was back in bed, fast asleep due to his exertions. Alexander had since washed before joining his Zani in bed. Warm and bare to the skin, she welcomed him with her kiss and her heart and he, a man who had always wanted more, still more, was happy to just be.
When he stroked the curve of her hip, his lips on the back of her neck, she smiled a smile soft and lazy, and reached up to curl her hand around his nape. They kissed again, her skin so warm, his yet cool. But it heated up with each kiss, each caress, each question asked and answered as they danced the slow dance of lovers who didn’t need to rush.
* * *
* * *
“Do you think we stopped living at some point?” he said to Zanaya as they lay tangled in the aftermath, all liquid limbs and honeyed pleasure. “We did more than exist. We did our duties. We took care of our people. But . . . did we stop living as we once did?”
Zanaya’s answer was simple. “Yes.”
Staggered by the blow of it, he fought to find his voice again. “You say that with such ease, Zani.”
She drew a delicate pattern on the skin of his chest as she lay on his shoulder, his wing below her body and one of hers arching over him. Her hair was a softness of silk against his arm, the weight of her too slight for the power in her frame.
“It wasn’t easy at all when I first realized it,” she said. “I struggled against the truth of it for years—but I had to face it. Where once my life was fire and color akin to a sunset over my Nile, it had become a muted palette. You remained the brightest spark in my existence, and even you had begun to fade. I couldn’t bear it, lover.”
Alexander took a painful breath, asked, “Is your world sunsets and fire again, Zani?”
Rising on her elbow beside him, she ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s wild and beautiful and bright.” Her gaze searched his. “Is it the same for you?”
“Yes. Because of you.” She was the fire in his blood.
A long silence full of memories spoken and unspoken.
“I wanted to ask a gift of you,” he said at last.
Lips tugging up in a curious half-smile, she waited.
“I would like to alter my sigil to include your Nile. So that my raven flies over your river.”
She sucked in a breath, her pupils expanding to overwhelm her irises. “Alexander.”
Fisting his hand gently in her hair, he said, “I love you, my Zani. I will love you till the end of time, whether that is tomorrow or eons from now.”
Eyes shimmering, she ran trembling fingers over his cheek. “I’ll give you my Nile,” she said, her tone husky, “if your raven perches in my ankh.”