And I Darken (The Conquerors Saga #1)(79)

“By all means, kill me.” His smile was anything but concerned as he reached for her. It had been days since they had stolen a private moment.

Not here, she thought. Anywhere but here. “Skanderberg?” she asked, changing the direction of their interaction. Iskander Bey had been one of Murad’s favorite Janissaries, and now he was one of Lada’s favorites. He had been a thorn in the empire’s side for years, using what he had learned from them to keep them at bay.

Lada had studied every account of his fights with the same devotion Mehmed gave to Islam.

Mehmed’s expression closed off. “Yes, my father has declared a new campaign. I will ride with him and command a flank in the siege.”

Lada’s chest welled with excitement. She could prove herself, her men, and…she could go, finally see somewhere else, even if it was not home. “When do we leave?”

Mehmed did not meet her eyes. He leaned down and picked up several of the flowers, carefully avoiding the sharp edges of the broken vase. “I leave this afternoon.”

Lada hurried to the door. “We can be ready within the hour, I—”

Mehmed grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “You are not coming.”

“I— What? We are ready. My men are ready. My force is small in number, but we can scout, and I will—”

“You are staying here!”

Lada peeled off his hand and took a step back. “Why?”

He was suddenly fascinated by the bruised flowers in his hand. “I need to leave someone I trust in charge of the city.”

“Anyone can do that! Nothing of value will be left here!”

Mehmed’s gaze was heavy when it finally found her. “Nothing of value?”

Understanding hit Lada. She ripped the flowers from his hand and threw them to the ground. “I will not stay behind to watch your brat! I am no nursemaid!”

Mehmed blinked rapidly, then shook his head. “Lada, I was not talking about my son. Do you think he is the only thing here I value?”

“Then what?”

“You! I will not take you into battle! You have no idea what the conditions are like, no idea how many ways there are to die.”

“I can handle myself.”

“But what about me? What would I do if something happened to you? I have to keep you safe!”

She pushed his chest, sending him stumbling, vase shards crunching beneath his boots. “I am not something to be kept! Next you will tell me you want to keep me behind walls, keep me in padded, perfumed rooms, keep me here. I am not your concubine, Mehmed!”

“That is not what I am asking!” He threw his hands up, pacing in a circle. “You are precious to me. What is so wrong with wanting to take care of you?”

“If I needed or wanted to be taken care of, I would be no better than the women in here! I am nothing like them.”

“No, you are not! I love you, Lada.” He closed his eyes and lowered his voice, trying to regain control. “Please allow me to love you. You are the most important person in my life. You and your brother are the only people who truly know me.”

Lada flinched, and Mehmed’s eyebrows raised as he noticed her reaction. He did not understand why, though. Lada had not told him about her last fight with Radu, nor that she had heard nothing from him since they parted. Mehmed remained blind to the true depths of Radu’s love—and to how much Lada missed her brother.

“Please,” Mehmed said. “I have already lost Radu to my father. He rarely writes, and when he does it is as though he addresses a stranger. I cannot afford to lose you, too.”

“You cannot lose something you do not own. Take me with you.”

With a frustrated growl, he tore the veil from her hair and threw it to the ground. “You look ridiculous. Armor suits you far more than silk.”

Lada put a hand to his cheek. His skin was soft and hot, always hot, as though he burned brighter than a normal person. Her voice came out a low purr, so like Huma’s she startled herself. “Take me with you, and I will wear armor the whole time.” She pulled his face down, kissing him, letting the fire he burned with ignite something inside her.

He grabbed her waist, pressing against her, matching her fierceness. She pushed her hip against his groin, where she could feel a hardness already formed. It terrified her, and also thrilled her that she had the power to make that happen. He groaned into her mouth, the kiss becoming deeper and more frantic.

“Lada,” he said, kissing her throat, her ear, her hair. “Lada, Lada.”

“Take me with you,” she whispered in his ear.

He buried his face in her hair, arms holding her so tightly she knew she had won. Then he shook his head. “No.”

With a scream, she pushed him away. He fell, his shoes soaked from the vase’s water. She pulled out a dagger, leaned down, and cut off his sash. Crumpling the silk in her fist, she stared down at him. “You need me safe? Who will keep you safe? I have killed you again under your guard’s very noses.”

He had the audacity to lie back on the floor and laugh. “Lada, no one in the world would ever be as devoted or ingenious in the pursuit of killing me as you are time and again.” He held out his arms, black eyes imploring. “Come, spend these few hours with me. I miss you.”

She leaned forward, just out of his reach. “You should become accustomed to that sensation.”