The glowing gold orb hovered, as if waiting. Ezra arched an eyebrow. “Well? What’s all this about?”

  The Eye shot forward, forcing Ezra to dive out of the way. Damnation. Where did it think it was going? He scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over his own cloak. Darting into the hall, he spotted the Eye floating nearby as if waiting for him.

  “I’m not in the mood for one of your games,” Ezra scolded. “I have a book waiting to be read.”

  The orb took off once again, and Ezra gave chase. This was not how he wanted to spend his afternoon. Bloody overgrown marble! A kit foxling holding a tray of silverware bigger than him headed straight toward Ezra, forcing him to spin out of the way, where he bumped into something hard and bounced off. Strong hands caught his arms and steadied him.

  “Easy there, cub.”

  Ezra bristled at the name. He lifted his narrowed gaze to the mountain of an Orso blocking his path. Honestly, the man’s stature alone was enough to block out the sun. Why was he so blasted tall? And wide. And… smiling. Why did he smile at Ezra? Not that anything was wrong with smiling, but Ezra had done nothing to warrant such a reaction.

  “I’m not a cub,” Ezra replied with a huff. “Why do you keep calling me that?” He tried to peer around General Segreti to no avail. Perhaps if he stood on his toes? Well, that certainly didn’t help. He couldn’t even see over Segreti’s shoulders. As a former general for the Orso, Segreti was huge and imposing. His chiseled jaw was covered in dark stubble, his mane of pitch-black hair reached just below his shoulders, and his thick black brows had several tiny nicks. In fact, his tanned skin was covered in faint nicks and scars, though the most prominent crossed his left eyebrow, disappeared beneath the brown leather patch, and continued to his cheek. It saddened Ezra. Had he been present when Segreti was injured, he might have healed him and saved his sight. While Ezra didn’t know the extent of the damage, he would hazard a guess that Segreti could no longer see from that eye. He was never without the eye patch.

  “Because you remind me of a cub. All young, soft, and innocent. What are you doing?”

  “I may be young,” Ezra said, lifting his chin proudly, “but I’m a Soldati warrior and hardly innocent.” Where the hell did it go? With a frustrated grunt, he planted his fists on his hips. “General Segreti, if you wouldn’t mind stepping aside. I fear I’ve lost my quarry.”

  “There’s no need for such formalities. Segreti will do.” He turned to look behind him. “There’s nothing there.”

  “Now there isn’t, but there was before you blocked my path.”

  “What exactly did you lose?”

  “The Eye.”

  Segreti peered at him. “The Eye? As in the Soldati Eye? Are you saying you lost the Soldati Eye?”

  Ezra let out an exasperated sigh. Perhaps if he exerted some physical effort, he might get Segreti to move. He prodded Segreti, but the Orso didn’t seem to even notice. Goodness, it was as if he were made of stone. “Of course not. I didn’t lose it. It’s merely hiding from me.”

  “Hiding…” Segreti arched an eyebrow at him. “You speak of the Eye as if it has a mind of its own.”

  Ezra blinked at him. “That’s because it does, General. Sort of.”

  Segreti opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. He shook his head, as if attempting to understand. “Why is it hiding from you?”

  “Because it’s bored.” Ezra threw up his arms. “I’ve no bloody notion as to why it does anything. Now, would you please step aside so I might find the damnable thing?” Who knew where it was by now? Thankfully, with the exception of a select few, the Eye didn’t allow anyone to touch it. Unpleasantness would come to anyone unworthy who attempted to lay hands on it.

  “Easy there—”

  “So help me, if you call me cub, I’ll—”

  “Calm yourself,” Segreti said gently, placing his large hands on Ezra’s shoulders. It should have irritated Ezra. He did not like to be touched—though Segreti was incredibly tender for an Orso, despite his very large frame. “Come, I’ll help you find it.”

  Ezra frowned. “You will?”

  “Of course.” He winked at Ezra. “I can hardly leave such a charming Soldati in distress.”

  Charming? Him? Ezra let out an indelicate snort. What nonsense. If Rayner were here, he’d have laughed himself to tears. Why Segreti would think such a thing was beyond Ezra. Regardless, if Segreti wished to be of assistance, Ezra would not deny him, even if he was perfectly capable of finding the Eye on his own.

  Both Khalon and Rayner were quite fond of General Segreti. The Orso was renowned across the realms for his fearlessness and loyal heart. He’d served Queen Verity’s father before his mysterious death, then her bastard brother who’d inherited the crown and almost single-handedly destroyed the Orso realm. He’d certainly tarnished its great name.

  With Pavoni’s death at the hands of the Soldati, Pavoni’s sister, Verity, had been chosen to be the next monarch. Despite Khalon having the right by law to claim the Orso realm as his own, he merely requested that Queen Verity allow Segreti to pass on his helm to the next worthy Orso. After a lifetime of war and battle, of serving the Orso as their general, Segreti had finally been granted his freedom.

  “How do you know where it went?” Segreti asked, snapping Ezra out of his thoughts. Just as he’d said the words, a shrill squeak pierced the air, followed by the clatter of silverware and loud gekkering. “It would seem your quarry has been found.”

  “Oh dear.” Ezra tsked. “It has an awful habit of scaring the poor foxlings.”

  They hurried down the busy corridor—where Ezra offered an apology to the frazzled foxling who hissed, fur bristling as he bounced anxiously—before rushing out of the open doors to the garden. Ahead of him, the orb lay settled in a bird’s nest among the tree’s thick branches and lush leaves. What in the name of the Goddess was it doing up there?

  “It would seem your great and powerful orb believes itself to be a bird. Or perhaps an egg that needs hatching?” Segreti chuckled in amusement, a deep rumbling sound that could easily be mistaken for distant thunder.

  Forcing his attention away from Segreti, Ezra considered his choices. If he shifted into his tiger form, he could easily climb up into the tree and reach it. However, his big furry paws wouldn’t be able to hold on to the orb to bring it down, and he didn’t want to chance the blasted thing taking off again. Its smooth, hard surface would prevent him from sinking his fangs into it, and he certainly couldn’t fit the whole thing in his jaws. Wait a moment…

  Ezra snapped his fingers and smiled brightly at Segreti. “I can sit on you!”

  Segreti appeared startled, and Ezra could have sworn his cheeks had gone pink. Perhaps Segreti was feeling a little under the weather? Ezra would offer to help with any healing once he’d completed his task.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Ezra studied the orb in the branches, then with a decisive nod turned back to Segreti. “How tall are you in your bear form, General?”

  His plan seemed to have dawned on Segreti, and he grinned wide. “Oh. Right. At least ten feet tall.”

  “Well, if you shift and I sit on your shoulders, when you stand, I should be able to reach it.”

  Segreti nodded. “How do you know it won’t take off again?”

  Ezra glared at the orb. “It better not, if it knows what’s good for it.”

  Segreti chuckled, and Ezra arched an eyebrow at him. Why was the general amused?

  “Very well. Let’s fetch your orb.”

  Ezra took several steps back, observing Segreti as he prepared to shift. He had heard many a tale regarding General Segreti. He was a warrior of legend, his heroic feats captured in song. As the fiercest of Orso warriors, he was even greater in stature than Khalon, certainly wider and more muscular. His biceps were so thick Ezra couldn’t wrap his hands around one if he tried. His shoulders were impossibly broad, his chest expansive. His whole body appeared as if chiseled from the great Orso mountain his realm was known for, from his square jaw down to his tapered waist and strong legs. The strength that radiated from Segreti was impressive. Each thigh was almost the size of both of Ezra’s combined. As a masculine specimen, he appeared perfectly proportionate.

  Segreti clapped his hands together, drawing Ezra’s gaze to their size. His fingers were long and calloused. Segreti was a man who forged swords, who’d spent centuries pushing himself to his limits. Ezra was grateful the Orso queen, Verity, had released Segreti from his pledge. The general deserved to live out the rest of his immortal life in peace, without fear of being called out to battle. He’d already served far longer than any general, thanks to the previous bastard of an Orso king.

  It was the swiftest change he’d ever seen in an Orso. Their bulk and mass impeded how quickly they could shift, especially compared to Soldati, but General Segreti was an Orso warrior of great experience and power. He shifted, the ground trembling beneath Ezra’s feet when Segreti landed on all four paws. He was the largest Orso that Ezra had ever laid eyes on, with golden-brown fur that looked wonderfully soft despite the various nicks and scars around his body. His left eye was open, the pupil and iris a foggy white with a sliver of amber around the iris. The scar remained, running from his brow over his eyelid, and down to his cheek.

  Ezra stepped before Segreti, his frame all but eclipsed by the Orso, and Segreti hadn’t even stood on his hind legs yet. Segreti lowered his head in a show of respect, and what Ezra sensed to be… uncertainty. As if fearing Ezra would reject him in his bear form. Why would he think such a thing?

  “My, but you’re magnificent,” Ezra said with a broad smile. He slowly placed a hand to Segreti’s head, in awe of how thick and soft his fur was. “General, I’ve never been awestruck by an Orso until this moment.”

  Segreti let out a huff and nuzzled Ezra’s side, making him chuckle. He then lowered himself to the ground, and Ezra climbed up, mindful not to tug too hard at Segreti’s fur as he did. Once he sat across his wide shoulders, he patted Segreti’s head.

  “I’m ready.” Ezra surprised himself by laughing when Segreti stood, the sudden movement forcing Ezra to throw his arms around Segreti’s head so he wouldn’t fall. “That was quite thrilling! Now, please, as close to the Eye as you can get.” He held on as Segreti turned and stepped up to the tree. “Steady, General.” Slowly, Ezra reached out and grabbed the orb. “Aha! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I do hope it’s out of your system. I have the orb,” Ezra informed Segreti, clutching the temperamental orb under one arm while holding on to Segreti with the other.

  As soon as Segreti lowered himself to the ground, Ezra carefully climbed off. The orb pulled at his arm, and Ezra stepped back quickly, snagging his cloak with his bootheel. He flailed an arm and gasped as he fell back. Instead of hitting the hard ground, he landed in Segreti’s strong human arms. Ezra blinked up at Segreti, who stared down at him.

  “Good catch, General,” Ezra said cheerfully. “I’m pleased to see retirement has done little to impact your agility and vigor.”

  Segreti’s eye widened. There was that flush again. “Oh, um, thank you.” He straightened, and Ezra ended up a little closer to Segreti than was proper, but for some strange reason he couldn’t fathom, he didn’t mind. Segreti’s scent was pleasant—a woodsy mix with many layers, one of them Segreti’s own Orso scent. He stood unmoving; his cheeks rosy in color.

  Ezra lifted his arm and laid the back of his hand to Segreti’s brow. “Are you unwell, General?”

  Segreti looked puzzled. “Unwell?”

  “Your face is flushed.”

  “Oh, uh…” Segreti cleared his throat, and Ezra smiled warmly.

  “I know! I’ll make you some herbal tea. It’ll work wonders. You’ll see.” He started for the south gardens but realized Segreti hadn’t moved. He turned and arched an eyebrow. “Come along, General.”

  Segreti chuckled, and in two long strides was beside Ezra. “I’ve spent many a century following orders, but I daresay yours have been the most pleasing.”

  Ezra lifted his gaze to Segreti’s. “Forgive me. I meant no disrespect.” He’d been told many a time he could come across as brash. It wasn’t his intent. He simply had no time for pretenses.

  “There is nothing to forgive, sweet Ezra.” Segreti took hold of Ezra’s hand and kissed it. “It’s certainly no hardship to follow you. Dare I say, I find myself eager to see where you might lead me.”

  Ezra nodded, though he was somewhat perplexed by Segreti’s behavior. As they walked together, Ezra discovered he rather enjoyed Segreti’s presence. Despite his stature and Orso nature, he exuded a pleasing sense of peace. Odd, since Ezra had always cherished the time spent on his own. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, or of the quiet, smiling general at his side.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Fascinating.

  Segreti found himself enraptured by the Soldati healer. Truth be told, he’d been beguiled by Ezra for centuries. The Soldati had fought alongside the Orso in many a war against the putrid demons that threatened the human world. It was where Segreti had met the gentle healer and voice of the Soldati Eye. His beauty had struck Segreti first, from his soft features and chestnut-colored hair to his eyes—bluer than the brightest cloudless sky. From the moment he’d heard Ezra’s first quiet words, Segreti had been charmed, and he often wondered whether the healer had bewitched him in some manner. No other had stirred emotions in Segreti the way Ezra had.

  The Soldati warrior also confounded him. Segreti had never known a more puzzling creature. Ezra went about collecting herbs from his many tiny pots, absorbed in his task to the point Segreti wondered if Ezra remembered he was there. He’d accompanied Ezra to a sizable cottage-like structure behind the castle, one whose walls were covered in winding vines of ivy and beautiful flowers.

  Inside, it was bright, the sun coming in through the large open window on each wall. Several levels of wooden shelves ran along the walls, all heaped with little pots, glass vials, small boxes, and trinkets. Beneath the shelves, several oak tables were covered with stacks of books, parchments, paper, stationary, more pots and vials, and an array of knickknacks. In front of the stone fireplace sat a comfortable-looking love seat with scattered throw pillows and a warm blanket, and beside it was a stool with a square pillow, where Ezra placed the orb. He scolded the magical artifact and wagged a finger at it in the most adorable fashion.

  It was clear Ezra spent a good amount of time in here. He mumbled to himself as he worked. On what, Segreti had no idea. As far as Soldati went, Ezra was somewhat smaller than his brethren, but not by much. Segreti was under no illusion Ezra wasn’t as fierce. All Soldati were fearless warriors.

  Not one hair was out of place on his head, not one wrinkle on his clothes. Ezra smoothed down the front of his tunic, its blue leather bringing out the brilliant hue of his eyes. Despite being covered from neck to toe—except for his hands—the regal attire left no question a sensuous and delectable figure lay beneath the soft cotton and leather. The black leather trousers fit snug and had a habit of drawing Segreti’s gaze. Thankfully, the weather in the Soldati realm was always perfection. Segreti couldn’t imagine wearing so much leather in the heat, or the long sleeves Ezra wore beneath the finely detailed jerkin.

  A kettle whistled from the fireplace, and Ezra hurried over. He turned and cocked his head to one side. “Please, do sit.”

  Segreti took a seat at the end of the love seat, though his great frame took up a good portion of it. Ezra turned to carry on, and Segreti inhaled deeply. The scent of Ezra mixed with the aroma of flowers and herbs stirred him deep inside. Perhaps accepting Khalon’s invitation for an early arrival had been a mistake. In truth, he’d accepted in the hopes of catching a glimpse or two of the lovely healer. He hadn’t expected the pleasure of spending time with him, much less being alone with him.

  “Here you go.”

  The sweet sound of Ezra’s smiling voice startled Segreti out of his thoughts, and he gave Ezra a rueful smile as he reached for the teacup held out to him. Like Ezra, it was delicate and beautiful. He feared causing it harm.

  “It’s all right, General. The porcelain is the finest the Soldati realm has to offer. It can withstand far more than one would expect.”

  Segreti arched a questioning eyebrow at him, and Ezra smiled knowingly.

  “Your concern was written all over your face.”

  “For a moment I wondered if you’d read my thoughts.” He frowned down at the golden liquid in his cup. “What is it?”

  “A recipe of mine.”

  “It smells… flowery.”

  Ezra chuckled. “It tastes like honey. You’ll enjoy it.” He winked at Segreti, who almost choked on his first sip. The healer was going to be the end of him. Segreti coughed, and Ezra reached over to pat his back.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Went down the wrong way.”

  “Do be careful, General.” Ezra turned and headed for a round wooden table strewn with all manner of herbs, some of which Segreti had never seen before. He proceeded to clean the mortar and pestle he’d used for the herbs in Segreti’s tea.

  “Well, if I choke, at least I’ll have a healer close by.”

  Ezra shook his head at him. Once he’d finished cleaning, he went about tidying a stack of already tidy books. How very intriguing. “How long will you be staying in our realm?”

  “How long would you like me to stay?”

  Ezra’s head shot up, and Segreti hid his smile by taking a sip of tea—more carefully this time.

  “It’s not my place to say,” Ezra replied, matter-of-fact.

  Segreti hummed. “I won’t take offense if you wish me to leave once the festival is over.”

  Ezra wrinkled his nose. “You’re free to come and go as you please, General. However…” He paused, seeming to take great interest in the leaves of a small herb plant. “Should you wish to extend your stay, I would not be opposed.”