of white caught her eyes, drew her gaze. In a snowstorm she would see Aerax first. Now he was merely climbing the stairs toward the temple. Ahead of him walked Caeb and a Parsathean.
Pivoting too quickly, she stumbled back into the temple. “You must give to me a new quest.”
“You are not on a quest,” the priestess said mildly.
Had the woman already forgotten her? “I was set upon a path—”
“That you were.”
“Now I need a new one.”
“That I cannot give.” The priestess cocked her head. “Did you expect your path would be easy?”
Lizzan had known it would not be. But she had not expected anything as difficult as this. Breathing deep, she tried to control her turmoiling emotions, to see beyond them. The path ahead was clear. She had asked Vela for victory in a glorious battle that would remove the stain on her name. Now she must protect a Kothan prince.
That must be what would lift her shame. She would save a Kothan’s life—and it was a path no different from the one she would have chosen, had she never been exiled.
So a soldier she would be again.
But not a soldier for Koth. Instead she served another. “What of Vela’s cloak?”
“Vela’s cloak?” the priestess echoed.
“All those who quest for her wear red.”
The priestess only sighed again.
No matter. Lizzan would find her own cloak and dye it as red as blood. With trembling fingers, she smoothed her hair back. Then hastily she dragged the long strands down, hiding her scars. Then defiantly she drew her hair back one more time.
Never again would she hide from him. Never again would she run away.
Oh, but it was not easy. To stand, exposed, as light spilled through the opening doors. To wipe her cheeks again, removing all traces of tears. To turn and face Aerax without stumbling, though she swayed as if the floor were uneven.
So quickly he moved, catching her arms, steadying her. With the sunlight behind him and stabbing into her eyes, she could not see his expression. But his disbelief and laughter she heard well enough.
“You are drunk?”
“Only a little,” she said, for her senses were painfully clear. Everywhere Aerax touched seemed to burn, his words a delicious rumble across her skin. And she could smell the river upon him. Oh, and now this was clear, too—why he must be here. She had shoved him into the water, so a kiss must follow. “But I would have to be very drunk to let you kiss me.”
His handsome features she could see better now, the sudden and sharp intensity of his gaze on her mouth. “Do you wish me to?”
“I should not.”
His lips quirked. “What should you do instead?”
“Shove my boot up your ass.”
“Would your foot be in it? Perhaps I would not mind so much.”
Always he made her laugh. But she should not do that either. So although the laughter bubbled up, she pressed her lips tight to stop it.
“Shall I kiss you, then?” His thumbs caressed the curves of her shoulders. “I would give anything you wish, Lizzan. And a kiss would be the finest of all things.”
So it would. But she shook her head. “I have already gotten what I wished for. That is why I am here. Now I only need my cloak.”
Aerax went still, hands tightening on her arms. “You asked for a quest?” At her nod, he turned to the priestess and snarled, “You took her vow while she was drunk?”
From behind him, another snarl echoed his. Caeb.
Instantly the priestess bristled. Her body snapped taut, and she replied with her own snarling, “Do not forget where you are, feral princeling. I do not answer to you, and never would I—” With an audible click of her teeth, she fell silent. A breath passed. Lizzan could all but see the razor-sharp smile in her voice when she spoke again. “I will find that cloak for you.”
With a sweep of her robes, she strode toward a back chamber. Caeb prowled past Lizzan and Aerax, slinking his body against their sides before continuing on toward the altar, where he sniffed at the offering bowl.
“Do not eat the finger,” Lizzan warned him.
A disdainful glance Caeb sent in her direction, as if of course he knew better than to steal from a goddess. Lizzan’s gaze fell upon the offering bowl again, and though moving her head made the world spin, she looked up at Aerax with a grin.
“If you toss a coin into that bowl, the priestess shines like the