Born of Legend (49 page)

 

C
HAPTER
17

“You have to go out on Davel's crew. We've been over this a thousand times. You can't gain citizenship without training time on an active ship.”

“Then screw it. I'd rather not have it than risk you or Vas.”

Standing in her bedroom while she finished painting his face, Ushara held Jullien close as she savored those stubborn words and fought the urge to choke him for them. “I know,
mi kiri
. But we're fine. Trajen has told you as much. It was just a threat to rattle you.”

“It succeeded. I'm rattled. More than rattled, I'm pissed.”

She rolled her eyes at his obsessive paranoia. “It's been two months and nothing else has happened. We're fine.”

He growled at her.

She growled back and bared her fangs at him.

That succeeded in making him smile, especially as she straightened his jacket. “How do you always manage to put your jacket on crooked?”

Jullien shrugged adorably. “I don't know. It's part of the CAS I developed in school.”

“CAS?”

“Contentious Asshole Syndrome. It made my grandmother and instructors insane, which delighted me to no uncertain end.”

Laughing, she kissed him. “Well, I find it charming and it gives me a reason to malehandle you.”

He sucked his breath in sharply as she brushed her hand against his abdomen. “Then I'm glad I developed it so early that it's now an ingrained habit.”

“Mum? Paka? Are you ready?”

“We're ready, Veelee,” Ushara called, stepping past Jullien to open the bedroom door. “Are you?”

Vasili was on the other side in full face paint for his Confirmation—something the two of them had requested Unira delay to the next cycle of candidates when Jullien had gone missing, since Vasili had wanted Jullien here for the ceremony.

Jullien's breath caught as he saw that it wasn't Altaan and Davers painted on Vasili's face.

It was Altaan and Samari.

Vas hesitated as he saw Jullien's stunned expression. “Is it all right that I did this, Paka?”

Recovering from the initial shock, Jullien pulled him in for a hug. “Absolutely. I'm more honored than you'll ever know. It just caught me off-guard. You are more than welcome to everything I have. Especially my name.”

Ushara swallowed back her tears at the sight of them. She was grateful how much the two of them loved one another. Her greatest regret had always been not having a father for Vasili.

What amazed her was that Jullien had never tried to replace Chaz in either of their lives. Yet he couldn't love Vas any more had he been his real father. He doted on him constantly, in ways that continually floored her. She'd never seen any male love a child who wasn't his so thoroughly.

Her gaze went to Vas's door where Jullien had even painted the Gorturnum screaming skull logo against a solid black background with the words
Vasili the Brave and Terrible
circling it—that had been the one change to the house he'd wanted to make that he'd asked about on his return.

Jullien had done the same thing inside his ship and hers for Vas to counteract the “overwhelming” feminine influences that she'd unwittingly subjected her poor son to—something she hadn't even been aware of until Jullien had moved in and she'd seen them together. Even though she'd grown up sandwiched between her unruly brothers, she'd never been so keenly aware of the male code of conduct until now, and it amused her how they playfully teamed up against her to tease her until she smiled and laughed about it.

A knock sounded on their door.

Vasili went to answer it while Ushara turned toward Jullien. “We'll resume our fight later. And I will win it. So prepare yourself mentally for your eventual defeat.”

With an irritable mumbling under his breath, he followed her to the front where her family was fussing about running late. Little Nadya ran straight to Jullien for her ritual ride to temple in his arms.

While they walked on ahead, Mary grabbed her. “Have you told him?”

“Not yet. Shh! He'll hear you.”

Her sister scoffed at her. “You have to tell him.” She mouthed the words at her.

“No!” she mouthed back. If she told Jullien she was pregnant, he'd never leave to finish his citizenship training. He was too afraid of his cousin harming them. Since the school incident, he hadn't slept through a single night.

He'd hardwired their house with the most frightening security system she'd ever seen in her life. Both she and Vasili wore rings that transmitted their vital signs to his link at all times.

And he checked it constantly anytime they were out of his sight.

She could barely go to the bathroom alone now. In fact, Jullien walked only slightly ahead and continually stepped back to check where both she and Vasili were peripherally to ensure they were with the group. She was amazed he didn't insist on a tether line for them.

He really was
that
ridiculous.

But at least most of her family was slowly acclimating to him as her husband.

Kirill, Gavin, and Klavdii, and their branch, notwithstanding. In fact, they wouldn't even walk with them to temple anymore. And they sat away from them during service. Which was probably for the best, given Jullien's hostile, unforgiving temperament where they were concerned.

And hers.

Unira greeted them as they approached the temple. “There's my beautiful boy.” She winked at Jullien. “Has he behaved this week,
m'tina
?”

“Not too much bloodshed, High Mother. No arrests. He's getting better.”

The priestess touched Jullien's cheek where Ushara had painted the Samari symbols on his face. “Are you still heading out in the morning with Davel's crew?”

He glanced to Ushara. “Depends on who wins our fight tonight.”

Unira laughed. “In that case, after the ceremony, I should like to exord him before we send him out.”

Ushara smiled at them. “I think that's a great idea.”

“You say that now,” Jullien said churlishly. “Until the holy water touches my flesh, starts to boil, and we burn down the temple. For that matter, we're all lucky I don't burst into flames whenever I walk beneath the arches.”

With a gentle push, Ushara urged him forward. “We're holding up the line. Go, you silly
žumi
.”

He obeyed without another comment.

When Jullien started to sit off with her parents, Vasili stopped him.

“I wanted both my parents with me. If that's all right, Paka?”

Jullien brushed his hand through Vasili's hair and nodded. “Absolutely.” He offered his arm to Ushara and allowed them to lead him to the candidate section.

It was still strange to him that Vasili accepted him as his father without hesitation. More used to being rebuked, Jullien continued to have a hard time being part of their family. Every time, he automatically expected Ushara or Vasili to hurt him.

They never did.

He wondered if his stomach would ever stop habitually shrinking in expectation of being rejected. If he'd ever grow accustomed to this new existence where they didn't kick or hurt him. He was trying, but it was so difficult when he'd lived defensively for his whole life.

His gaze went to Ushara's family.

No.
His
family now. Why did he have such a hard time accepting that? Over the last few weeks, they'd gone out of their way to prove to him that he really was a member of their
nyth
.

And yet …

He kept waiting for the betrayal to come. For them to throw him into a hole or sell him off again.

Davel inclined his head at him and smiled as he held his infant son in his arms. Maksim. Their other son was named after the cousin who currently wasn't speaking to him because of Jullien. Davel's daughter, Yasha, lay curled against her mother. Fara was a beautiful blonde, but she paled in comparison to Ushara.

Jullien had mixed emotions about Fara since she was essentially the reason he was here. For that, he owed her his entire life and existence. But for Fara and her insistence that Ushara loosen her hold on Vasili, he'd be dead now.

Yet that insistence had put the boy in danger, and like his wife, that angered him at the female. So Jullien treated Fara with polite deference.

And she was utterly terrified of him. Anytime he neared her, she ran like the Koriłon himself was after her.

He had yet to formally meet Ushara's brother Dimitri who had been with her at Steradore. The one they'd all warned him would hate him most.

Perhaps it was a blessing they'd been kept apart.

Ushara reached over and took his hand. Jullien's heart sped up at the contact. Glancing over, he smiled at her.

“You all right?” she whispered.

He nodded. But it was a lie. He wasn't used to this sense of normal. Like wearing a pair of oversized shoes that had been stretched to someone else's feet. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se.

Just didn't feel quite right.

Not to mention, he still had that feeling he was being watched. That someone had eyes on him. No matter what he did or where he went, he couldn't shake it. He never could find them. But the sensation wouldn't let up, either. It was so unnerving.

There were times, when he swore he could feel Nyran or his grandmother standing over him.

Even now.

By the time the solemn religious ceremony was done and the young candidates who'd been confirmed were free to mingle with friends and family, he was having a hard time breathing and focusing as Ushara led him toward the open area that was decorated for the public temple party and celebration. The crowd was thick with extended family and celebrants.

And still his paranoia persisted. Even though he knew there couldn't be any other Ixurianir here. In this sea of pale blond Fyrebloods, they'd stand out as much as he did.

Ushara called out to him. “Jules?”

He drew a deep breath and mentally shook himself as he tried to keep her from knowing his state of unrest and shoved his panic attack down. “Yes,
mu taru
?” he answered, using the Andarion term that meant
lady of my heart
.

“Do you dance?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Of course I do.”

With an impish grin that made him so hard it was extremely uncomfortable, she crooked her finger for him. Worse? She started dancing in a small crowd with her sisters before he reached her. In a circle, they joined hands and swayed their hips in perfect synchronization. Then broke apart to move their hands and shoulders in a provocative swaying beat that thrummed through every fiber of his being.

Damn … she was the most seductive female to ever breathe. No tara should be that limber or sensual. Then again, he was glad that if one had to exist, that she belonged to him and that he had the privilege of tasting those moves all night long when she wasn't in her clothes.

And when she took his hand and began to dance with him, he was grateful for every long, frustrating, and tedious afternoon his grandmother had insisted he endure lessons in spite of his endless whining against them.

Ushara's laughter filled his ears as she danced with him. “You've been holding out on me,
mi tiri
.”

He wrapped his arms around her as they swayed toward the ground. “You never asked me about
this
.”

“True, but now that I know what you
can
do … you're going to be doing a lot more of it.”

He grinned down at her. “
Trevisa, Ger Tarra. Bauertui hæfre.
”
Yes, my lady. I am forever your servant.

But as the song finished, Jullien realized that they had attracted a
lot
of attention from the Fyrebloods who didn't normally attend temple with them. Or if they did, they hadn't noticed him among their congregation as he usually sat in the back and stayed seated throughout the liturgy.

Instinctively, he put himself in front of Ushara and kept one hand on her waist as whispers echoed, and malevolent stares focused on them.

To his shock, it was her grandfather who came forward to stand with them against the gathering angry crowd that was starting to demand Jullien's scalp be mounted on the wall.

“What's going on?” Vidarri asked.

One of the more hostile members Jullien didn't know neared them. “What is this darkheart doing here, desecrating our holy place?”

Vidarri lifted his chin. “He's a Samari.”

The male curled his lip in repugnance. “You dishonor their nobility and memory by painting him as one. But it doesn't make it so.”

“He's a Samari by blood and DNA.” Still dressed in her full high priestess's robes, Unira came to stand beside Jullien. “He's also my son—fully Vested and acknowledged as such by me. He's a Fyreblood with as much right to be here as anyone.”

“Prove it.” That cry was taken up by the entire crowd.

“He doesn't need to prove himself.”

Jullien gaped at Vidarri. That stunned him. But when Petran, Katira, and the elder Nadya took positions beside him and agreed, he was absolutely floored. Never before had
any
family stood at his side to defend him.

Ever.

Nadya glared at the crowd around them. “Dagger is a member of the great house of Altaan. If you take issue with him, you have issue with us.
All
of us.”

Ushara took his arm and placed it around her waist so that she could splay his hand over her stomach and hold it there. In Andarion culture, it was a matriarchal declaration of family and a powerful statement for a female to make since they didn't normally touch each other in public, especially so intimately. It was the same as saying she would kill or die to protect him. That he, alone, was hers.

Likewise, her grandmother and mother each placed their hands on his shoulders.