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

Laurentia shakes her head. “It isn’t for me,” she whispers.

I snort. “Did you forget?” I ask.

Her eyes widen and she stares at me, though she doesn’t answer me, not that I give her the chance. Wrapping my hands around hers, I tug her closer to me, tipping my head down and almost touch hers.

“I’m in charge of you now, if you want to join, you can sit beside me.”

She shakes her head. “I couldn’t,” she whispers.

“You can and you will. Do you want to wear one of my gowns? Maybe the dressmaker can make you some prettier ones, all of yours are plain,” I say, wrinkling my nose.

Laurentia doesn’t say anything right away, instead, she clears her throat. “I will go, in my own dress.”

“I’m having the dressmaker bring some things for you next week,” I announce.

She doesn’t jump up and down, but I do see her eyes light up at the idea of the new dresses, as any girl would. I know I am all about new clothes, even if these aren’t as daring as some of the little bandage dresses that I’ve worn in the past, they’re still sexy as shit, especially the one I’m wearing right now with a slit all the way up to my hip.

A knock sounds at the door and I expect Tiberius to be on the other side, but it’s Cassia. She smiles and looks me up and down, her lips curving up into an even bigger grin.

“Tiberius waits,” she announces.

“Laurentia is going to join us,” I say.

Cassia’s gaze flicks from me to Laurentia, then back to me. I can see the question in her eyes, but she is polite enough not to voice it. She shrugs a shoulder, then stands to the side.

“It will be great fun, this is always my favorite part of a big celebration,” Cassia announces.

I am a little worried about what it could be, but I don’t ask. Instead, I dip my chin and begin to walk toward her. Together, the three of us make our way toward the common room. I see him standing with his back to me, his gaze out at the gardens just beyond the door.

Tiberius must sense my presence. When he turns around, his eyes dip to my feet and slowly glide up my body. I feel as though his hands have skimmed my entire body. A shiver slides up my spine and I bite the corner of my lip, almost wishing that we could skip this whole thing.

I have been miserable for days, being in his presence and him not being inside of me. I didn’t realize that I needed his touch, his kiss, him inside of me as much as I did—but I do, I need it, desperately.

He closes the distance between us, his feet moving faster than I can even track. Reaching out, he wraps his arm around my waist and hauls me close to him, slamming my chest against his. He dips his chin, but he does kiss me, his lips are almost touching and my breath hitches.

“Tonight, I take my mulier,” he growls.

I hold back the whimper. “Yes, my emperor.”

He grunts. “Yes, your emperor, indeed.”

Tiberius releases me, but does not completely let me go. Instead, he keeps his arm tight around my waist as he begins to walk. I don’t pay attention to anything as we make our way through the door and then the thick crowd.

The crowd parts as we walk by, slowly they step to the side, but I am not paying attention to anything. I am practically floating next to my emperor. The warm sun beats down on me, but even that does nothing to dampen the moment.

I am euphoric.

The crowd becomes heavier, the farther away from the mansion we walk. They also become louder. I’m trying to smile as I look around, then I hear some people shout obscenities toward me.

Cassia gasps behind me, but it is Tiberius’ whose body tenses. He doesn’t release me the way that I think he would, instead, he stops, turning to face the direction of the men who made such noise.

Then, without me even realizing what’s happening, he unsheathes his sword, his fingers still gripping me tightly and lifts it above the crowd, pointing it in the direction of four men who are standing in a semicircle, their eyes wide as they watch.

“Do you dare to speak lewdly of my empress?” Tiberius booms.

I’m halfway tempted to tug on his arm and tell him it’s not a big deal, let’s just do our emperor/empress duties and get on with the show, but the way that his muscles tremble from being coiled so tightly, I decide to let him do his thing.

Before I take in what’s happening, two men step forward, their chests puffed out and acting cocky as all get out. The crowd dies down to complete silence, like so silent that I could hear a pin drop.

“We did,” the cockiest of the two states. “She is uptight, she is foreign, she is putidus. She is not Savonaian.”

These are all the wrong things to say to the emperor about his empress. I could have told anyone, especially since these dudes have no clue that the gods created me for him, as heard from those gods’ mouths when they popped onto the island of Curia and saved my bacon.

Tiberius doesn’t say anything immediately, he inhales a deep breath, then his voice comes out and it’s deep and sexy as shit, but I don’t understand what he’s just said, for whatever reason, the words don’t translate.

“Pedicabo ego vos et irrumabo.”

Several people gasp in the audience, making me think that Tiberius just dealt a low blow to these two manly dudes.

“What?” I ask, turning my head.

Nobody is looking at me to give me a hint, so I decide to go back to watching this scene play out. I don’t have to watch for long or wonder. Because without a single warning,