Chapter 3

Annie poured water into a copper tub, the scent of floral bath oils heavy in the air. A fire flickered low in the hearth, the weak glow of the embers casting most of the small bathhouse in shadows. Her heart pounded in her chest as she refused to look at the pile of blankets and furs on the floor.

She dropped a pitcher with a dull thud, the sound making her jump despite her gratitude that it hadn’t broken. Maybe if she told Julius she was a virgin, he’d go easy on her.

She folded and rearranged a pile of linen towels for the hundredth time, praying to any gods who might be listening for protection. Annie blinked away tears as footsteps echoed outside the door. Maybe he did really just want help washing his hair. Maybe he would leave her unmolested. Maybe four of the best men she had ever known hadn’t been brutally killed only hours before.

A knock on the door made her tremble. She smoothed her robes over her slender figure, running her fingers through her hair and pulling it over her shoulders like Ilena told her to. Hopefully Carmina would protect her priestess that night.

Annie took a deep breath. “Enter.”

She hoped she sounded braver than she felt. The door creaked open and panic seized her. She stood, slowly backing toward the hearth as Julius stepped inside the bathhouse.

He was a tall man, broad-shouldered and hard with muscle, wearing a loose blue tunic of fine linen. Dark chest hair poked out from the collar and he wore no breeches, the hem of his tunic brushing his knees as he closed the door behind him.

Annie swallowed hard and forced herself to look up. Short dark hair fell to his brows, a strong jawline visible beneath a thick dark beard. He studied her through heavy-lidded amber eyes. A small smile played on his lips as he took a step toward her.

Her hair stood on end as she backed away, her mouth suddenly dry. “It’s an honor, Your Majesty.”

To her surprise, he threw his head back and laughed, the deep sound reverberating in her chest.

Annie blushed scarlet. It wasn’t right that a wicked man should have such a nice laugh.

“Call me Julius, though you do flatter a nameless old soldier.” His gaze lingered over her face a moment before something hungry, something predatory crept into his expression.

She turned away, at a loss for words. The flickering firelight reflected off the copper tub, the metal shiny as she grabbed a milky soap from a table by the bath and poured it into the water, praying the cloudy liquid would be able to obscure his nakedness.

Annie couldn’t meet his eyes. “Your ... the bath is ready, Your Majesty.”

When he began to shrug off his tunic, she turned away, sick with shame and self-loathing at the desire blooming between her legs. It wasn’t fair that Julius was so insanely attractive. Linen crumpled behind her and Annie held her breath, the sound of his bare feet on the stone floor making her tense.

“Come now, little priestess. You have nothing to fear from me.” He rested a hand on her shoulder, the weight sending a rush of heat to her core. “Tell me your name.”

“Annie.”

“Short for Annika.”

She scowled. Naomi better have a good reason for doing this to her. “Yes.”

He gathered her long hair in his hands, caressing it and twirling it around his fingers. “What god do you serve here, Annie?”

She struggled to gather her thoughts enough to reply, her mind reeling at his touch. It was terrifying and exciting all at the same time and Annie didn’t know how to deal with it. “Jocasta.”

He pulled her back against him, nuzzling her head as he bent down to whisper in her ear. “Protector of innocence and dreams.” His fingers brushed the nape of her neck as he ran his fingers along the collar of her robes.

With a gasp, she twisted away from him, mouth hanging open at the dark hair that covered the expanse of his chest and trailed down his stomach to a nest of thick black pubic hair. She flushed hot, her arousal slick on the insides of her thighs.

“Tell me, priestess.” He smiled. “Are prophecies worth a life of celibacy?”

She wrung her hands to keep them from shaking. She’d never seen a grown man naked before. He was such a pig. She took a deep breath, anger making her bold. How dare he try to push her around?

Annie forced herself to look him in the eye, a polite smile plastered on her face. “Better get in, Your Highness. You don’t want the water to get cold.”

He chuckled as he sank into the tub, the water sloshing around him concealing his nakedness. Despite everything, Julius was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

She offered him the pitcher from the table, eyes averted from his perfect form. “For your hair.”

He grasped her wrist, squeezing hard when she recoiled. The cold amusement in his smirk sent a wave of fury through her.

“You never answered my question.” He took the pitcher from her and released her wrist.

She fell away, pulse pounding in her ears as she massaged her mangled joint. “Other than motherhood, the life of a chaste priestess is the most noble thing a woman can do with her life.”

Julius threw his head back, roaring with laughter.

Annie pushed herself to her feet, furious. If he asked her to shave his face, she’d cut his throat.

He watched her as he filled the pitcher, water trickling from his arm when he held it out. “Your father taught you well. Did Titus choose this life for you or did you choose it for yourself?”

Annie took it, ignoring the way his fingers brushed her wrist. “Do you know my father?”

Julius sighed as she poured warm water over him. He sat up when she was finished, shaking his head as he ran his fingers through his wet hair. Annie moved back around to the table. She couldn’t help but notice how cute he looked with his hair plastered to his skull in a dark smear as water dripped from his beard.

She cursed herself, sick with self-loathing. How could she want such a vile man?

He cleared his throat. “I hate your father with every fiber of my being, odious hypocrite that he is. The greatest day of my life will be when I mount his head on a spike next to my father’s on the gates of Civitas Riparia.”

Annie flinched, pausing as she reached for a bar of soap. Fear burned at the back of her throat.

He nodded at the hearth. “Pour me a drink.”

She hurried over to a flagon of wine and two cups, grateful for the chance to be away from him, even if it was only a few moments across the room.

“Pour one for yourself.”

Annie ignored him, carrying his wine with a scowl on her face. “The gods will curse you for this. This was donated to the Temple by a vintner to be poured out in offering to them. It’s a sin to drink it.”

He accepted the cup, downing it in a single swallow. “The gods could never curse me more than they already have. But I’m sure you know what it is to be a powerful man’s bastard.”

His words cut into the wound that had never healed properly. Even after coming to such a remote Temple all those years ago, Annie couldn’t escape the circumstances of her birth. Naomi’s presence had made it impossible. It didn’t make sense - why had Annie been sent to live there if Naomi didn’t want her? Was her father torturing both of them?

She dipped the bar of soap into the water, pulling away when he tried to trap her in between his smooth, hard back and the side of the tub. Fear dominated her thoughts as she worked a lather in between her hands, setting the soap down on the floor beside her and massaging the suds into his hair.

He leaned into her touch with a sigh, and, for a moment, she allowed herself to appreciate the soft thickness of his hair as she worked up the nerve to speak.

“My father cares very little for me. I have not seen or heard from him in six years. Please do not think that you can hurt him through me,” she said.

“Is that truly what you think?” He twisted around to stare up at her, brow furrowed. “I’m very surprised by this.”

She moved around the tub for the pitcher, frustrated. He was toying with her and she couldn’t keep up.

“You have a nice life here as a Temple priestess. You are fed, clothed, and housed. You get to serve the people and enjoy their respect. You are safe here hidden away from the world. Your father did you a great kindness in sending you here. Unless you don’t like it. I admit there’s nothing about a life of celibacy that appeals to me. Jocasta can keep her visions and blessings.” Julius leaned his head back as he rinsed soap from his hair.

Annie struggled to collect herself as water streamed down his perfect body. Whatever cruel game he was playing was just as upsetting as the threat of violence.

He wiped water from his eyes and handed her the pitcher. “And your father is a very pious man. I’m sure he’s very proud to have a daughter in service to the gods. Even bastards can earn glory for their families in the Temple.”

Annie swelled with fury, his mocking tone stoking her emotions. “I am here to serve the gods and any and all people who come to me in need. My father’s honor is the last thing on my mind.”

He leaned back, flexing his arms as he laced his fingers behind his head, dark eyes upon her as she beheld his masculine beauty. “A kindred spirit. I used to think my greatest revenge against my father would be to kill him and his legitimate sons and steal his throne. But as I ride through the land, shaming him as I make a great name for myself, I realize that I can become even more glorious and legendary than he’ll ever hope to be because I live outside of the miserable moralistic society that he loves so well. I don’t have to play by his rules and he can’t stand it.”

“If you live your life the way you do out of spite for him, then he still has control over you,” said Annie.

He lurched forward, water sloshing everywhere as he grabbed her, yanking her against the side of the tub. When she tried to twist away, he caught a fistful of her hair and pulled her close. His beard was wet against her cheek and his breath in her ear made her shiver.

“I live for myself. I am slave to no gods or masters, especially not bloated pigs like my father or bleating hypocrites like yours,” he whispered. “Now, bring me another cup of wine and help me wash up. I am very tired, but I could still muster up the strength to turn you over my knee and spank your ass raw.”

He released her and she fell to the floor, whimpering as she scrambled to get up and hurry over to the hearth. Annie threw a few more sticks on the fire, wanting the light but resenting the added heat on such a hot summer night.

She flushed, aware of her stark nakedness beneath her robes.

Ilena had told her not to wear any undergarments. Annie’s pulsed quickened as she poured more wine into the cup. It was safe to assume that Ilena expected her to sleep with Julius, but did Naomi? What was the old woman playing at?

Annie brought Julius the cup, ignoring the heat in his gaze as she knelt by the tub. He cupped her cheek, lifting her face toward his and studying her.

She held her breath, panic rooting her to the spot.

His gaze lingered on her mouth and he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “I expect a priestess to Jocasta will be familiar with the strawberry midsummer prophecy.”

Goosebumps spread over her skin as her vision came to mind. She shook her head, reminding herself that prophecy was very subjective and that she couldn’t jump to conclusions without a grounded interpretation. For all she knew, Jocasta had blessed her other priestesses with the exact same vision world over. But for all her rationalizing, she couldn’t help but wonder if the Bastard Prince had ended up at her particular Terrestrial Temple for a very specific reason.

In an effort to appear nonchalant, Annie rolled her eyes, grateful he couldn’t hear her heart thudding against her ribs. “Every randy fool in the area comes around here every midsummer and jokes about fathering a line of kings. Every priestess to Jocasta is familiar with that nonsense.”

“I’m surprised you’d call it nonsense. A priestess to Jocasta herself made the original prophecy all those years ago.” His hand fell away from her and he took the cup, resting his arm on the edge of the tub as he nodded at the bar of soap on the table.

Annie’s hand trembled as she picked it up, dipping it in the water before lathering up his arm. Veins rolled under his smooth skin, his muscles hard beneath her touch. “My father says it’s nothing more than the fever dream of a frustrated virgin.”

Julius chuckled. “And Jocasta, fair and pure, appeared before Gladius in the meadow, midsummer sun burning overhead.”

Annie twisted to grab a small brush from the table to scrub what could only be blood from beneath his fingernails. She struggled to keep her fear under control, trying to convince herself he was only teasing her.

“‘My lord,’ says she, ‘I will offer my innocence to you in exchange for a child, a son, a prince. I will keep him close to me and when the time comes, I will send him to Earth, and he will bring lasting peace.’” He kept his eyes on her as he lifted the cup to his lips, taking a sip.

She lowered his arm into the water, ignoring his hot gaze as her clit pulsed to life beneath her slick folds.

“Captivated by her flawless beauty, Gladius lay with Jocasta, spilling his seed into her womb and planting a great warrior, bringing lasting peace to the land,” continued Julius, downing the remaining contents of his cup.

She kept her eyes down, concentrating on the task at hand. It was impossible to ignore his solid chest beneath her touch as she washed him. Gladius was always depicted as handsome. He would have to be to tempt a goddess as pure as Jocasta. Her mental image of the war god morphed into Julius and she could understand why the moon goddess would offer herself to him.

Julius let the cup fall to the floor and reached for the tie keeping her robes in place. She swatted his hand away with a cry, reeling backward. He grabbed the collar of her garments and yanked them open, her breasts spilling out, exposed.

When she tried to cover them, he wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close, his body warm from the heat of the water. Her nipples twisted into peaks against his damp skin. Some strange, primitive instinct compelled her to arch into his embrace and a low moan rumbled from his chest.

Her clit throbbed. She twisted away from his hold and fixed her robes, horrified by her body’s betrayal. The hungry look returned to Julius’ eyes as he leaned back, muscles tensing like a wolf ready to pounce on a frightened fawn.

Annie caught her breath, fumbling with the tie to her robe.

He shook his head. “Take that off. You’re going to get your sleeves all wet and I can’t stand the feel of wet fabric on my skin.”

Anger surged through her as her fear faded. “I’ll roll them up.”

He slid down into the water as she tied up her sleeves, failing to ignore the way his eyes lingered on her chest. She grabbed the soap and scooted back over to the tub, praying he would allow her to scrub him down and be done with it without issue.

But her resolve weakened as she worked lather over his neck and back. The throbbing heat between her legs grew stronger as she rinsed grit, grime, and suds from his hard body. It was so confusing. She was terrified of Julius, but she couldn’t deny her dark attraction to him.

She’d seen the bloodlust on his face when he’d cut Helion’s throat, blood splattered all over his shiny steel armor. Annie was well aware of the violence the Bastard Prince was capable of. He’d earned his reputation. Such a man could never father a child capable of growing into a leader who would forge lasting peace.

He leaned forward so she could wash his lower back, sighing when she slid the bar of soap over his tight muscles. Annie made a silent prayer of penance for her body’s reaction to the man in the tub and beseeched Jocasta to help her resist.

She scrubbed him all the way down to the edge of the water, refusing to put her hands where she couldn’t see what she was touching.

As if he could feel her reasoning through her hesitation, Jullius spoke. “Keep going, priestess. You must wash all of me.”

Blushing furiously, Annie closed her eyes and submerged her hands, silently praying for deliverance as she washed his firm, round backside. He pulled himself into a squat, reaching behind to grab her hand and guide the soap in between his cheeks. When Annie tried to pull away, he squeezed so tightly, she winced.

Julius released her with a sigh, leaning back as the water sloshed around him. “Come on. Get the front before the water gets too cold.”

She clutched the bar of soap, soft material oozing through her fingers. She’d been ordered to bathe him; and, while unsettling, it wasn’t unbearable. All she had to do was finish the task at hand, and then be done. She could flee to her quarters and have a breakdown.

Annie swallowed hard, scooting alongside the tub so she could wash his abdomen. Wetness seeped from her slit at the hard ridges of muscle and coarse body hair beneath her touch. A curtain of hair fell over her shoulder, shielding her from his intense gaze. Dark curls floated on top of the water. Julius gathered them in his hands, brushing her cheek as he tucked her hair behind her ear.

Annie shivered, her eyes flickering up to his. The hunger and want she saw there thrilled and terrified her.

He traced the outline of her cheekbone with his thumb. “You must’ve had a pretty mama. If I didn’t know for a fact that you’re Titus’ daughter, I never would’ve believed it. You’re much too beautiful.”

The firelight brought out the amber in his eyes. She couldn’t tear herself away as desire threatened to drive her insane.

Beneath the water, he grabbed her wrist, pinning it against him.

The spell of his beauty broke and she gasped, struggling to pull free. She fell to her backside. “Let go of me.”

He reached out with his other hand, grabbing her by the collar and pulling her upright. The fabric slid over her skin, the tie loosening. His eyes lit up when they fell to her exposed breasts, bouncing and swaying with her exertion.

“Finish my legs and I’ll show you how to do the rest,” he said, the tone in his voice making her weak.

Here was a man who was used to having his orders followed immediately and without question.

“I can’t if you don’t let go of me, Your Highness. Julius,” she said, voice trembling.

He smiled, his expression softening as he released her.

She worked her way down his lower limbs, suppressing a smile at the way he hissed and curled his toes when she washed in between them.

As she scrubbed his left leg, he sat up and reached out to cup her swaying breast. When she cried out, he caught her hand under the water and slid it to his groin. Her fingers brushed his soft member as he grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her close.

“Take off those robes and join me.” His commanding tone compelled her to obey.

Annie managed to resist. She dropped the soap and slipped from his grasp, struggling against his hold as her hair threatened to tear away from her scalp.

His laugh infuriated her. “The moon goddess went to the god of war willingly, but I admit the fight in you is driving me wild.”

Anger, fear, and lust overwhelmed her, tears stinging her eyes as she lost control. Annie curled her hand into a fist and swung at him as hard as she could. Pain exploded in her knuckles and spread up her arm when she connected with his cheek.

With a shout, he shoved her away, water sloshing everywhere as her head connected with the stone floor, stunning her. The room spun as she tried to crawl away, vaguely aware of the wet heat spreading over her.