The Pleasure Slave

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Your Greatest Satisfaction Is Knowing You Pleased Your Master

"Julia," Faith said on a sigh. She sat beside Julia's bed, concerned. "Tristan left you. You can't mope here forever, neglecting your life and your business, praying for him to return. You have to move on. No man is worth this amount of suffering."

"You don't understand, Faithie," she replied softly. She'd known saying goodbye to him would be hard. Brutal, even. She'd thought she would be prepared. But this… this was the crudest torture, loving Tristan and living without him. He was everything to her; without him she had nothing.

She'd always thought of herself as content. But she'd never known true contentment before Tristan. Murky darkness filled her bedroom because the curtains were drawn and the lights were switched off.

She liked it this way. Here, she could remember; she could picture Tristan in her mind and could catch a hint of his lingering scent on the sheets and pretend that he really was here.

"Just go, Faith," she said.

She wanted to be alone with her memories. Maybe if she concentrated hard enough, he would appear. Don't cry, she commanded herself. Whatever you do, don't cry. Once you start, you'll never stop.

"I saw Peter yesterday," Faith said.

"I don't care."

"I don't know what happened to him, but he was glowing."

"I don't care," she said again.

Her sister remained undeterred.

"Refusing to leave your bed isn't going to help you. Thousands of women have been dumped all over the world. You have to pick yourself back up and prove you can live without him."

"He didn't dump me." She'd heard every word. Heard Tristan tell her to live her dreams, heard his unspoken vow of love. He'd left with Zirra to save her. Oh, how she ached for him, how she longed to tell him again of her own love. "He was forced."

Faith snorted. "That man was a mountain. No one could force him to do anything he didn't want to do."

"Yes, they could." Her voice almost imperceptible, she told Faith the entire story. Her sister didn't believe her, and she didn't have the strength to convince her.

She'd closed her shop this past week. She simply hadn't had the time or the energy to work. She needed Tristan, and her every waking moment was spent here at the house, in bed or on the computer, searching for information about magic and spells, something, anything to lead her to Imperia.

To Tristan.

So far, she'd found only emptiness and despair.

Remember me, he'd said, his voice sad.

"I miss him so much," she told her sister, and one lone tear slid down her cheek. That was all it took for the damn to break. She sobbed and shook with the force of her grief, all of her tears cascading down her cheeks, wetting her pillow.

Faith gentled a hand down her hair, held her tightly and cooed soft words of comfort.

But there was no comfort to be found.

Imperia

On the last day of his required season without Julia, the fine hairs on the back of Tristan's neck rose, warning him of a coming adversary. He sat atop his horned stag, darkness surrounding him and his men. They had already fought many battles, and he knew many more were to come. It was as if he had never left this place, his battle instincts were so sharp and attuned. Mayhap that was because he only wanted Julia in his arms, and was willing to do anything to get her here.

He knew his men wondered why he fought so hard, harder than ever before. He had told only his friend, Roake, who had agreed to fight at his side, giving his aid.

In a low, quiet tone, he cautioned his army to guard their flanks. Danger lurked nearby. The talon at his side hummed with anticipation. Tristan clutched the hilt, ready. Oh, aye. A battle brewed.

A war cry sounded—and it was not his.

Rebel attackers jumped from the trees, blades hoisted in the air, the only thing visible in the night. Combat began seconds later. Tristan's talon sliced through the air, vibrating when it made contact with flesh.

Energy flowed through his veins. Battle always had that effect on him, always gave him added strength. Yet this time, his energy stemmed from his desire to be with Julia. This was his last day without her—if she wanted to come to him. He had to believe she did. Otherwise, his life was not worth living.

He fought like a man possessed. He heard men scream in pain. The blood of the rebels ran like crimson rivers along the grassy field. The muscles in his arms and back burned, not completely healed from the many battles he had already endured these many cycles, but he kept fighting, wielding his weapon with deadly intent. There was too much at stake to give up now.

When he finished off one man, two others attacked him. He stepped backward, blocking a blow to his mid-section. Then he lunged out, taking down one assailant in a single fluid spin. As he straightened, something stabbed at his back.

On instinct, he dove to the right, a movement that prevented a talon from sinking past bone and muscle and saved his life. Wincing as the new wound throbbed in protest, he whipped around. His combatant grinned, sensing victory, and raised his arms. The silver metal glinted in the moonlight as it arced downward.

Without pause, Tristan unsheathed the blades Julia had given him as he spun and stabbed upward. Instant contact. With a painful scream, the man collapsed.

More men attacked from the trees, and he and his men continued to fight. Not long after, Roake sounded the victory shout. Loud, buoyant cheers covered the lingering sounds of battle, the moans of the hundreds of men lying wounded and bleeding in the grass.

Tristan rubbed a weary hand down his equally weary face, then gazed up at the heavens. He had had enough. It was time.

"Percen," he shouted, praying the High Priest heard him. "I fight no more until our bargain is complete."

Julia lay in bed. She wore the same T-shirt and sweatpants she'd worn every day since Tristan left. They were his, and she welcomed the small bit of comfort they brought her. Another week had passed without him. Another awful, lonely week.

She was no longer sleeping. She only tossed and turned and imagined.

When would this terrible ache subside? She just didn't know. As she clutched her pillow to her chest, she heard a voice boom through her home. She jolted upright, startled.

"Do you wish to go to him, lass?"

It was the same Scottish burr she'd heard at the flea market when she'd bought Tristan's box. She didn't question her sanity. She simply shouted, "Yes!"

As soon as she uttered the word, her world began to spin. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed. Colors swirled behind her lids, and something whizzed in her ears. How many minutes passed, she didn't know. Please let this be real, she thought, trying to kindle her growing hope.

An eternity later, the spinning ceased. When she opened her eyes, she had to blink until they adjusted to the bright sunlight. She stood on a bed of white grass. Half-clothed men strode all around her, some sweaty and bloody. Some freshly washed. They gave her confused looks but did not approach her.

A large lake of perfectly clear water consumed half the land. Tristan leaned against a gleaming silver boulder, his eyes closed as water cascaded down his naked torso and pant-clad legs.

With a joyous cry, she shouted his name, "Tristan!"

His eyelids snapped open. He shook his head, as if he didn't quite believe his eyes. Then he leapt into motion. He ran to her and swept her into his arms. "Are you here? Are you truly here?"

"I'm here, I'm here."

Tears burned her eyes, such happy tears. He squeezed her so tightly she almost lost her breath. "Welcome to Imperia, little dragon," he breathed into her neck.

Cool droplets of water soaked her clothing, but she didn't care. She wound her arms around his neck and held him closer. "I've missed you so much. My house is empty without you."

He pulled back from her ever so slightly. "I cannot go back with you, Julia. Not ever." Julia thought of Faith. She would miss her, but she knew her sister would be all right without her and would hopefully one day understand. "I would like to stay with you. If you'll have me."

"If I will have you?" With another shout of delight, he smothered her face with kisses and nips. "I would die without you. I love you so much I ache." The men around them cheered loud and long. And Julia caught one man's smile. He was tall, as tall as Tristan, with a scar that slashed down the left side of his face. She couldn't help but grin back.

"I want to make you my life-mate," he said. "I want to give you my children. You can open a shop at the market and all of Imperia will come to purchase your wares."

"There is only one thing I need, Tristan, and that's you." Her contented smile grew as she stared into his eyes. She had never felt so whole and complete. "You're a part of me I don't want to live without. With you, I'm content."

"We were always meant to find one another, I think." Tristan cupped her chin in his hands. "You are willing to give up everything for me," he said, awed by that fact.

"No, I was simply willing to take what mattered most."

"What matters most, Julia? Like you, I need the words. What matters most to you?"

"My final lesson, of course."

He stilled. Not what he had expected, but then, she had always done the unexpected. He grinned back at her.

"Best you tell me what you would have this last lesson be."

She gazed up at him through half-lowered lids. "Why, happily ever after."

"I will do better than that." His gaze never strayed from hers. "I will give you forever, my beauty, my dragon. I give you my love, all my heart and my soul. I give you my name and my children."

"I love you, Tristan."

"By Elliea, I could live on those words alone. I love you, too."

Julia strengthened him, completed him in a way unknown to him until he'd first seen her. He could not breathe without her, could not function without her at his side.

"Will you life-join with me, and have my children?" he asked raining soft butterfly kisses upon her face.

"Oh, that will be my pleasure."

Happy tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and her chin wobbled slightly.

"And my pleasure, as well. I will always be your pleasure slave. Always."

"Hmm…" She pulled his lips to hers. "That's all a girl can ask for."