Praetorian Rising, стр. 69
Pressing her palms into the cavity of her eye sockets, she ground any image lingering in the black depths of her eyelids away. Seeing the swirl and mix of random color was preferable to everything she'd seen that day. Her head bent as she ducked into the shower, the spray of water a blissful balm. She moaned a sigh of relief as the heated pellets of water struck her tender flesh. Every fiber of her being hummed and yet her body began to tremble in the aftermath.
Methodically, she scrubbed at the blood and dirt until her skin was bright pink and raw, her fingers moving in quick motions to keep the shaking at bay. The kaleidoscope of gore from the past couple days melted off her body before slipping down the drain at her feet. She had no clue what to do, no desire to run or flee, and no understanding of what she was about to walk into. There was no clear sense of her emotional status concerning Vesyon or Theo, and to top it off, she had no damn soap.
Camille sighed, comforted in the small luxury of being alone as tears slipped down her reddened cheeks in a river of heat. Despite the chaotic wail of voices zooming past her door, the ever-approaching army just beyond the village gates, and the looming knowledge that she should be rushing to flee the compound, she didn't move. Or rather, Camille couldn't move. There was no purpose to her stationary reaction, but she couldn't, for the life of her, find the energy to leave the fiery hot spray of water. Instead of forcing herself back into the rush of the compound, she gave into the emotions bubbling up inside her, allowing the salty streams of water to flow freely down her cheeks.
***
Theo skidded to a halt at the end of the hall leading to Camille's room. The tiled floor was a mess of strewn items left behind by those rushing to evacuate, but Camille was nowhere to be seen in the mix of bodies racing out of their quarters. She had to be in her room, but he was uncertain he would be welcome.
The scorching expression of longing Vesyon had given her hadn't gone under Theo's radar; something had happened between the two of them. He couldn't be sure of what or when that exchange had occurred, but the current of suppressed emotion had surged between them with Theo being nothing but a bystander. He would never admit it aloud, but Camille's heated anger toward Vesyon made him feel slightly better about his own standing with her.
The previous night hadn't precisely ended in the way he had hoped. He'd curtly dismissed her, not wanting to open the door to the emotions he'd shoved away so long ago. He'd had no right to push her though, to force their past on her assuming they'd jump back to where they'd left off. It had been eight years since he last saw her, but it didn't matter, not to him. It made no difference. She couldn't remember him or what they'd once been.
His mind flashed with the memories of their last night together in Whiskey Wharf before the massacre of Charlie Town. She had been in his arms, her wild copper hair draped over his forearm like fire upon his skin. He watched the crackle and burn of the tendrils glowing with a life of their own in the firelight of her room. It hadn't been the first night they'd found themselves in each other's arms into the early hours of the morning, but it had been the first time he'd ever voiced aloud his full desire for her.
"Cam, I love you," he'd said. It was so simple, almost effortless, the words forming on his lips most naturally.
She had smiled—the wide-open smile that made his heart ache with the need to press his lips to hers. "I know you do," she responded before burying her head back into the crook of his neck.
It was dangerous, what they were doing, not just physically but also emotionally. Camille and Theo had never made love but had come close, always stepping right up to the forbidden line between being Asperian and being an honorable Praetorian. It was against Praetorian law to give one's body over to another unless by order of the High King. The idea of procreation wasn't the problem; Praetorians were created sterile. It was the devotion, adoration, and physical desire for anything or anyone outside of the High King himself. Praetorians were designed to love, protect, and serve the kingdom. To do any of those things with another was considered treason.
The High King had his pick when it came to physical interaction with Praetorians. He could take as he pleased without any consequences. The control didn't stop there, however. Theo had been asked not just to kill innocent Asperians, but he had also been forced to lay with them, using his station and skills to extract information from them. It sickened Theo to the core, made worse in the moments he was alone with Camille. It was in her arms and wrapped in the emotional bonds of their love that he felt a deep surge of resentment for what the High King forced him to do.
Kissing her, holding her, even just touching Camille would be considered treason, but the realization of this didn't stop them. It was the only time they willingly gave affection to one another, the only time they denied the High King a say in their lives. Neither of them admitted it, but Theo felt the spark of their love ignite his own desperate need for freedom. He didn't just want to be free of the Crown, he needed to be open to love Camille in every way.
"It's not enough to just love you though," Theo had whispered in her ear. She hummed in response but kept