Taming the Eagle: A Pict-Roman Ancient Historical Romance by Jayne Castel

Author:Jayne Castel [Castel, Jayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Winter Mist Press
Published: 2022-06-22T23:00:00+00:00

Fenella sat upon the couch, as stiff as a poker. The seat was comfortable—carved out of wood with a curved back and soft cushions—yet she couldn’t relax.

Not with the Eagle in the same room.

The general was facing away from her, pouring them cups of wine. She watched him, taking in his broad shoulders and long back; the black tunic he wore clung to his strong body.

Pursing her lips, Fenella looked down at where her hands were clasped upon her lap.

She was far too aware of the bastard. That kiss had unleashed something between them, something she couldn’t seem to control.

Raising her gaze once more, she found Aquila before her, calix outstretched.

She took it, careful not to let their fingers touch.

Moving back, he lowered himself onto the couch opposite. This was his lounging space, where he often chatted with Marcus in the evenings. Small tables flanked the couches, and a soft sheepskin covered the cold tiles between them. The doors to the tablinium were closed as it was a chill, windy night outdoors.

“You look unhappy this eve, Fenella,” Aquila observed after a pause. “Why?”

Inhaling slowly, she eyed him. “You know the reason.”

His gaze grew intense. “No, I don’t … tell me.”

Silence fell between them, and Fenella raised the calix to her lips, taking a sip. The wine warmed her belly, emboldening her. “I don’t understand you,” she growled finally. “At all.”

His head inclined. “We can remedy that … ask me anything you wish.”

Fenella’s grip tightened upon the stem of her calix. Gods, he was vexing.

“I feel toyed with,” she bit out, ignoring his request. “We seem to be playing a game of cat and mouse, you and I, and I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I.”

“Really? Then why persist?”

His gaze seared hers. “Do you not know?”

Fenella drew in a deep breath. The Mother give her patience, she hated it when he answered her with a question. “From the moment we met, you’ve had an obsession with me,” she ground out, even as her pulse quickened. “You seem intent on bending me to your will … yet at the same time, you want it to be my choice. What kind of man thinks this way?”

“One who has found his other half,” he replied softly.

Fenella started, as if someone had just jabbed her with a pin. “What?”

“You were made for me, Fenella.” His gaze never left her face. “I wish you’d let me know you.”

Fenella stared back at him, horrified.

Aquila’s mouth quirked. “I’m not like other men you’ve known, am I?”

Still reeling from his admission, Fenella shook her head.

“Toutorix is a brute. I can see how he’d destroy your trust.”

Fenella’s heart started to pound like a drum against her ribs. This conversation was getting out of control; it was making her feel light-headed. “Every man close to me has let me down,” she admitted shakily. “My father, my lover … and my husband. My father gave me to Toutorix to pay an old debt.”

“The Wolf wasn’t worthy of you.” The words were spoken quietly, yet they fell like axe blows in the quiet of the tablinum.

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