Read Online The Winged Serpent (The Order of the Oath) by Nadia Aidan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nadia Aidan
Tags: Romance
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but in a place where she’d sworn no one could touch her ever again, a place lodged so deep inside of her that she’d not even known it still existed until she’d returned to this life. With that one strike, as deserved as it had been, Cyrus had dredged up painful memories she’d long buried, but would never forget.
His sigh crackled through the silence between them. “Maybe one day you shall trust me enough to share these pieces of your past.”
Aurora did not know why that upset her—that this man desired an intimate knowledge of her that he himself would not give. So she said the only thing that came to mind, the one thing that had burned in her thoughts from the moment she’d met him, and glimpsed the arrogance in his eyes.
“How is it you came to be a slave of Rome when you were once a free man of Thrace?”
She startled him with her question, and his eyes rounded then narrowed, his face suddenly devoid of any of the emotion she’d witnessed just moments before.
“That is none of your business.”
“Just as my past is none of your business.” She turned to leave. “You are my doctoris, and I am your gladiator.”
He looked at her crossly. “And that precludes us from a friendship as well?”
“I do not wish to be your friend.” That was both truth and lie. She feared the passion steadily growing between them with each passing hour. Cyrus was a distraction from her duty. She could ill afford his constant presence in her life because when she closed her eyes, she saw him, his naked body pressed to hers. No, she did not wish to be his friend, she wished for something more. Something she could never have with him. And that she wished it was the very problem.
“I know what you are about,” he said when she began to walk away. He thought she was still angry. He thought she was hurling cruel words at him for what he’d done—words she did not mean.
He was wrong.
Aurora stopped to regard him from over her shoulder, her hair brushing against her back. As she looked at him, the whip still clenched in his grasp, she was reminded that she could not afford to get close to anyone, that she could trust no one. She was not there to befriend a single person, she was there to fulfill a single purpose.
This time when she spoke, her tone was flat. “Trust me when I say you do not.”
He had no idea what she was about at all.
Chapter Four
Cyrus stared after Aurora, his gaze slipping to her rounded hips, which swayed gently, rustling her tunica with every step she took. He bit back a groan as she sauntered away.
It was a groan of frustration— mostly physical, but not entirely.
For the briefest of moments, his mind conjured another woman.
Beautiful, sweet, innocent Sorina with eyes as crystal blue as the Aegean, hair as golden as warm honey. The vision was fleeting. For it had not been Sorina’s face he’d imagined last eve as he’d held his flesh within his palm, stroking himself until he’d spurted his seed against his woolen pallet.
Wild topaz eyes.
Silken copper skin.
A mass of untamed, unruly, russet locks.
He’d thought of Aurora, only Aurora as he’d found release yestereve, alone in his quarters, and it shamed him. He did not want to want her, but neither could he seem to cease the desires of his body. He had never wanted a woman so fiercely, not even Sorina, especially not Sorina. That revelation shamed him as well.
Aurora was not a simple, uncomplicated woman. She was haunted by demons, by a bitter pain that threatened her soul. She carried secrets, many of them, her eyes were shadowed by nothing but secrets. What he’d witnessed earlier had been a purging, a violent, unrestrained purging of the soul. And still those same demons of the past would haunt her. He imagined she would never escape them.
Cyrus’ heart stuttered, his gut fisting into knots as he trailed Aurora with his gaze—her head, her back, even her gate. Stiff and proud.
Whatever Primus had said to
His sigh crackled through the silence between them. “Maybe one day you shall trust me enough to share these pieces of your past.”
Aurora did not know why that upset her—that this man desired an intimate knowledge of her that he himself would not give. So she said the only thing that came to mind, the one thing that had burned in her thoughts from the moment she’d met him, and glimpsed the arrogance in his eyes.
“How is it you came to be a slave of Rome when you were once a free man of Thrace?”
She startled him with her question, and his eyes rounded then narrowed, his face suddenly devoid of any of the emotion she’d witnessed just moments before.
“That is none of your business.”
“Just as my past is none of your business.” She turned to leave. “You are my doctoris, and I am your gladiator.”
He looked at her crossly. “And that precludes us from a friendship as well?”
“I do not wish to be your friend.” That was both truth and lie. She feared the passion steadily growing between them with each passing hour. Cyrus was a distraction from her duty. She could ill afford his constant presence in her life because when she closed her eyes, she saw him, his naked body pressed to hers. No, she did not wish to be his friend, she wished for something more. Something she could never have with him. And that she wished it was the very problem.
“I know what you are about,” he said when she began to walk away. He thought she was still angry. He thought she was hurling cruel words at him for what he’d done—words she did not mean.
He was wrong.
Aurora stopped to regard him from over her shoulder, her hair brushing against her back. As she looked at him, the whip still clenched in his grasp, she was reminded that she could not afford to get close to anyone, that she could trust no one. She was not there to befriend a single person, she was there to fulfill a single purpose.
This time when she spoke, her tone was flat. “Trust me when I say you do not.”
He had no idea what she was about at all.
Chapter Four
Cyrus stared after Aurora, his gaze slipping to her rounded hips, which swayed gently, rustling her tunica with every step she took. He bit back a groan as she sauntered away.
It was a groan of frustration— mostly physical, but not entirely.
For the briefest of moments, his mind conjured another woman.
Beautiful, sweet, innocent Sorina with eyes as crystal blue as the Aegean, hair as golden as warm honey. The vision was fleeting. For it had not been Sorina’s face he’d imagined last eve as he’d held his flesh within his palm, stroking himself until he’d spurted his seed against his woolen pallet.
Wild topaz eyes.
Silken copper skin.
A mass of untamed, unruly, russet locks.
He’d thought of Aurora, only Aurora as he’d found release yestereve, alone in his quarters, and it shamed him. He did not want to want her, but neither could he seem to cease the desires of his body. He had never wanted a woman so fiercely, not even Sorina, especially not Sorina. That revelation shamed him as well.
Aurora was not a simple, uncomplicated woman. She was haunted by demons, by a bitter pain that threatened her soul. She carried secrets, many of them, her eyes were shadowed by nothing but secrets. What he’d witnessed earlier had been a purging, a violent, unrestrained purging of the soul. And still those same demons of the past would haunt her. He imagined she would never escape them.
Cyrus’ heart stuttered, his gut fisting into knots as he trailed Aurora with his gaze—her head, her back, even her gate. Stiff and proud.
Whatever Primus had said to
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