Lucien stood beside the open window, gazing at the purple sky. The silver orb of a moon peeked through the sullen clouds, drenching the marble floor in its pale luminance.
Ayana shifted on her bed, drawing his attention. Her dark hair was spread around her delicate face, a few strands of red standing out from the rest. Her countenance was serene and calm, free of worries.
If only he could run away with her to a place afar, a place without fear…
Lucien tensed, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. A growl emanated from his lungs.
His gaze flicked to the sky as a dark shadow zipped beyond the clouds, too big and too fast for a bird. His hand instinctively flew to his weaponless belt, but the strange presence vanished as soon as it had appeared.
Had he imagined it?
"Lucien?"
His eyes flew back to his wife.
Ayana sat against the headboard of her bed, sheets pulled up to her chest and eyes groping in the semi-darkness. His exclamation must have roused her.
He let the moon bathe him in its light. "It's me."
Her eyes lit up when they found him, her lovely smile jerking his wild heart. An icy pang of remorse pierced through the warmth as he beheld the innocent glow on her face. He hated to bring back her past, not when it gave her nothing but pain. But he had no choice. She had to know the truth.
Her smile wavered. "You seem troubled. What is it?"
"There is something I need to tell you, Ayana." He watched her carefully. "I cannot keep it from you any longer."
She raised her eyebrows.
He walked over and perched on her bed. "You are in danger," he said. "That which we feared most has come to pass."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Emperor Vorigan," Lucien replied. "He has ordered the Imperial Guard to track down the last survivors of Ilirion's bloodline."
A shallow breath escaped her lungs. "He knows?"
Lucien nodded. "He received a forewarning from Valenta, maybe a ploy to waver his advance into the east. However, his paranoia won't let him stop until every one of Ilirion's descendants are dead."
Ayana's hand darted to her abdomen as realization of his words crashed upon her. Her wide amber eyes snapped up to his. "Even our child?"
His heart ached at the anguish in her eyes. He lowered his head. "The child carries your blood."
"What have I done…" Ayana mumbled, her face crumpling in pain as moisture gathered in her eyes. Her arms folded protectively around her stomach.
"It is not your fault," Lucien said, almost sharply. "We still have time." His voice softened as he cupped her face and brushed away a sliding tear. "They are not aware of your whereabouts."
"But they will find me, Lucien," she said. "They always do."
Lucien took her hands and stroked her fingers. "We will take precautions. I will make certain they do not lay a finger on you or our child," he said. "Do you trust me?"
A cool breeze washed into the chamber, carrying with it, a scent of crushed pine and mild honey. She lifted his palm and placed it on her cheek. "With my life." A hint of a smile returned to her face.
"Then there is nothing for you to be afraid of," Lucien said. He pulled her into a hug, cradling her head on his shoulder. "I love you," he whispered, caressing her crimson streaked hair. He had to protect her, no matter what the price. She was not meant for this harsh world. "I will keep you safe. I promise."