She turned toward the door and knocked over something on the counter. Picking it up, she felt a small bottle of spice that reminded her of the serums M'Adoc had given her.
A large enough dose of Lotus serum would keep Zarek unconscious for a few days...
But then he would be trapped in his nightmares with no way to wake up.
Such a thing could cause him to go insane.
Or she could direct his dreams like a Skoti might.
Dare she try it?
Before she could reconsider, she went to her room to get the bottle she had hidden in her nightstand.
Now she just had to find some way to get the serum into Zarek.
Zarek was headed out into the storm. He lifted the hood of his coat and started down the hallway.
Astrid met him halfway to the door. He paused at the sight of her waiting there for him. Desire rushed through him, making him hard and aching. Her face looked sad and the novelty of that stunned him most of all.
Gods, she was so beautiful. For a moment, he actually wished he could stay here with her. That he could be as lucky as the wolf she had dragged in from the wild and tamed.
He wished he dared to reach out for a star.
Do it!
Zarek balled his hands into fists before he could yield to that burning desire. Slaves didn't have wishes or dreams.
They didn't lust after women who were too good for them.
He shouldn't even be looking at her, let alone be hard from wanting to touch her.
No matter how much he fought against it, no matter how many times he railed against Acheron and Artemis, he knew the truth. Two thousand years later, he was still a slave. One owned by a Greek goddess who wanted him dead.
He could deny his destiny all he wanted to, but in the end, he knew his place in this world.
Women like Astrid weren't meant for men like him. They were meant for decent, civilized men. Men who knew the meaning of such simple words as "kindness," "warmth," "compassion," "friendship."
Love.
He started past her.
"Here," she said, holding out a cup of hot tea.
The aroma was sweet, pleasant, but it didn't heat him half as much as the sight of the slight blush in her cheeks. "What's this?"
"I would say arsenic and vomit, but you trust me so little anyway, I don't dare. It's hot rosemary tea with a bit of honey. I want you to drink it before you leave. It'll help keep you warm on your journey."
Somewhat amused by her reiteration of his rudeness, Zarek at first wanted to toss it. But he couldn't quite do it. It was too thoughtful a gift and thoughtful gifts were an extreme rarity in his experience.
He hated to admit just how deeply this simple act touched him.
He hardened even more with the thought.
Thanking her, he drank it down, staring at her the whole time over the rim of the cup. Gods, how he was going to miss her; but that made even less sense than anything else.
As he drank the tea, his eyes drank in the sight of her.
Her jeans hugged long, shapely legs that a man couldn't help but dream of having wrapped around his waist.