The Wrath and the Dawn(99)

She was a dangerous, dangerous girl. A plague. A Mountain of Adamant who tore the iron from ships, sinking them to their watery graves without a second thought. With a mere smile and a wrinkle of her nose.

But even knowing this, he surrendered to her pull. Succumbed to the simple need to be by her side. With a slow exhalation of breath, Khalid placed his shamshir on the floor and eased his body next to hers. He stared up at the ceiling, at the single flame in the golden lamp above his head. Even the dim light shining from its depths pained his eyes. He shuttered his gaze, trying to push past the weariness and the ever-present torment of the chained beast roaring inside his head.

Shahrzad shifted in her sleep and turned toward Khalid, as though drawn by her own inexplicable compulsion. Her hand fell to his chest, and she settled her brow beside his shoulder with a muted sigh.

Against his better judgment, Khalid opened his burning eyes to look at her one more time.

This dangerous girl. This captivating beauty.

This destroyer of worlds and creator of wonder.

The urge to touch her now past logic, Khalid’s arm moved to encircle her in an embrace. He buried his nose in her hair, in the same scent of lilacs that taunted him from outside his window. The small, graceful hand on his chest drifted higher, beside his heart.

Whatever torment he had to endure. Whatever evil he had to face.

There was nothing that mattered more.

Then he heard a noise in the far corner of the room.

He blinked hard, trying to refocus. His muscles tensed with heightened awareness when a flash of movement blurred across his vision. Khalid squeezed his eyes shut, fighting to clear the lines, fighting to see through the layers of fog and shadow. The pain between his brows grew as his pulse rose to meet the unforeseen challenge.

Another blur of motion flitted across the room, this time in the opposite corner.

Khalid removed his arm from around Shahrzad and reached for the pitcher of water by the platform.

When a new flash of movement caught his attention beside his desk, Khalid heaved the pitcher in its direction and shot to his feet, his shamshir in hand.

The sound of the pitcher shattering against the ebony woke Shahrzad, and she sat up with a startled cry.

“Khalid? What’s wrong?”

Khalid said nothing as he regarded the stillness around his desk. He blinked again. Hard. His eyes blazed with the fire of a thousand suns. He pressed a palm between his brows and gritted his teeth.

Shahrzad rose from the bed and strode to his side. “Are you—hurt?”

“No. Go back to sleep.” It sounded needlessly cruel, even to him.

“You’re lying to me.” She reached up and wrapped soft fingers around his wrist. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Again, his pain lanced through the word, making his response more abrupt than he intended.

She tugged on his arm. “Liar.”

“Shahrzad—”

“No. Tell me the truth, or I’m leaving your chamber.”

Khalid remained silent, the beast in his head roaring with untold vigor.

Shahrzad choked back a sob. “Again. And again.” She spun on her heel and glided toward the ebony doors.

“Stop!” Khalid tried to go after her, but his head throbbed and his sight distorted to such a degree that following her was impossible. With an incoherent slur, Khalid dropped his shamshir and sank to his knees, his palms clutching either side of his head.

“Khalid!” Shahrzad gasped. She ran back and crouched beside him. “What is it?”

He could not respond.

Khalid heard her race to the doors and yank one open.

“My lady?” a guard inquired.

“Find Captain—no, General al-Khoury,” Shahrzad insisted. “Right away.”

She waited by the door until a soft knock struck a short while later.

“My lady Shahrzad,” his uncle began. “Is everything—”

“His head. Please. He’s—in a lot of pain.” The sound of fear in her voice unnerved Khalid. More than he cared to admit.

“Stay with him. I’ll return shortly.”

The door closed.

Shahrzad returned to his side. Khalid leaned back against the edge of his bed and braced his elbows on his knees, pressing both palms to his forehead with enough force to paint stars across his vision.

When the door opened once more, Shahrzad stiffened. He felt her draw closer in wary protectiveness.

“Sayyidi.” The voice of the faqir echoed from above him.