Bride of the Emperor (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 4) by Hayley Faiman (urban books to read .TXT) 📕

With a snort, I take another step toward her. “She is definitely not from here, Cassia. She does not speak our language and the way that she was dressed…” My words trail off.

Only then does Cassia stop and turn to look back at me. Her eyes are wide as she licks her lips. “She does not speak our language? Surely you iocus?”

Shaking my head slowly, I take a step back. “She is your charge. The wedding will take place in two weeks’ time. Ensure that she is prepared please.”

“Tiberius,” she breathes.

Jerking my chin, I take another step back in retreat. “She is in my quarters, and that is where she will stay unless she is under guard. I have not assigned a guard to her yet, so where will she remain Cassia?”

Cassia’s eyes narrow as she watches me. “I am not a child,” she snaps.

I chuckle. “Yes, but you are full of mischief. This is a serious matter, we do not know anything about her or the prophecy, past what the beast informed me of. We must be diligent.”

Cassia nods her head, her gaze never leaving my own. “Yes, I suppose we must. I will do my best to help, in any way. Please remove your mask, she must see you, Tiberius.”

“I am a monster, Cassia.”

“You are not. You are the kindest man I know. You give yourself to any who is in need. You love your people and your heart is beautiful.”

“My face, Cassia,” I grumble.

“Your face is that of a true warrior and you should always endeavor to be proud of all you have accomplished, cousin.”

I hum, closing the distance between us, then and only then, do I remove my helmet. Dipping my chin, my lips brush against her cheek. “You are far too good and pure for this world, dearest cousin of mine.”

“You are of the same, my sweet Tiberius. Now go and do your duties. I will care for your sweet new bride.”

Chapter Two

DRUCILLA

I sit on the edge of an oddly comfortable bed and I shiver. It’s not like it’s extremely cold or anything, but I’m in a bikini. I was also carried into a strange castle-type house, by a strange man. And when I say strange, I mean freaking strange.

This is like a palace of some kind, it’s gorgeous and beautiful, but it looks like something out of one of those old historical romance movies.

Not quite knights and Vikings, but more like a Roman empire-type vibe, maybe that’s because of the stranger’s helmet and naked chest, along with his sword, his shield, and his tiny man-skirt.

A man-skirt that I didn’t think could be attractive. I was wrong. The man-skirt is hot. He is fucking hot, at least his body is, I didn’t see his face. I can’t imagine he would have a butter face though. I have a feeling all of him matches in equal hotness.

I bounce on the bed a little to test out the mattress. I don’t know what the filling is, but it’s softer than I imagined it would be in a place like this. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I swallow my tears and fears.

There is no reason to be scared.

Not because there is nothing to fear, but there is nothing that I can do about this situation. So, wherever I am, whoever has me, I can only hope that I’ll survive this. Then something slides through me.

My sisters.

Could they be here or somewhere near?

My mom had those dreams and was convinced they’re in another time or dimension or something. Maybe they’re here. I don’t know, but now instead of scared out of my brain, the way that I probably should be, I’m a little excited for what could be coming my way.

The door swings open and I lift my head, expecting to see the hottie with the helmet, but that isn’t who meets my gaze. Instead, there is a small woman standing in front of me. She’s gorgeous.

Absolutely stunning.

She has dark glossy hair and dark brown eyes that are kind as she assesses me. Sliding my gaze down her body, I can’t believe how stunning she is. Her floor-length drapey gown is deep burgundy, and she has intricate golden rope twisting and knotted all around to enhance her small waist and highlight her breasts.

She looks exactly like a Roman goddess, even her dark hair is twisted and knotted into an updo enhanced by the same golden ropes. She’s even wearing makeup.

My breath hitches when she takes another step inside, another woman is next to her, she’s taller with dark hair and dark eyes as well, but she always stays a few steps behind this petite goddess.

She smiles, then lifts her arm and places her hand on her chest. “Cassia,” she states as she pats her chest. Then she repeats herself. “Cassia.”

Then, she lifts her hand and places her palm on the center of my chest before she tilts her head to the side in a silent question.

“Drucilla,” I say with a smile.

“Dru-cilla,” she says slowly, my name on her accented lips is absolutely gorgeous.

Nodding, I lift my hand and place my palm against her chest. “Cassia,” I say with a small smile.

She returns my smile, then lifts her hand. “Petronia,” she says, introducing the girl standing behind her.

Then she says some other words and I shake my head, because I do not understand a single thing that she’s just said to me. When she realizes that I understand nothing, she giggles. She looks back at the taller woman, who mutters something before she points to my feet.

Cassia’s head tips down and she lets out a short gasp. I don’t know what is so horrifying, that is, until I follow their gaze and look down to my feet as well.

They’re hideous.

My feet are completely caked with mud and grass, they are a mess, all the way up to my