All This Twisted Glory (This Woven Kingdom, #3)

by Tahereh Mafi

With a sharp thwack the last arrow found its mark between her shoulder blades. Alizeh flinched under the force of impact, and her small, startled gasp rendered Cyrus absolutely, inhumanly still.

Every one of Cyrus’s dragons was precious to him, but there were three in particular he loved as if they were his own family.

“I just—I just remembered,” she said. “I can’t swim.”

happy birthday raven!

He only closed his eyes against her hair and fought the desperate crush of his chest, the violence of his affection for her. How she managed to disarm him even now, on the brink of death, he could not understand. She’d wept for his pain, wiped the blood from his eyes, taken an arrow in the back for him. She’d shown him more loyalty and tenderness in two days than he’d ever felt in his life, and he knew then, with a force that drove the air from his lungs, that he would never survive her.

“Kaveh,” he said. “She needs to be delivered to the Diviners.”

oh gawd

“A great deal has changed since we last spoke,” said the king, wincing as his leg spasmed. “I was wrong about her. She’s not allied with Iblees—and she was injured just now trying to save my life.”

for the more he grew to care for her, the more unbearable it became to look at her.

“Be certain of one thing,” Hazan said with quiet menace. “If she doesn’t survive this, you will know the full breadth of my rage. I’ll rip out every bone in your body before I take off your fucking head.”

“Cyrus?” He felt delirious. He was staring at her with the awe of an idiot perceiving the sun for the first time. He nearly drew his hand down her cheek. Nearly kissed the side of her neck. Nearly slumped against her and fell asleep. “Yes, angel?”

“We died and we’re together—and we’re not in hell,” she murmured. She nearly tipped over, but the magic yanked her upright. “And you got a dragon. Maybe I’ll get a dragon.”

“A terrible accident!” “And where is your remorse?” Hazan demanded. “Why do you express no concern for her well-being—why do you remain preoccupied only with your own disappointments, when we came here with the express purpose of saving her—”

“Come along, Omid,” she said tightly, taking the boy by the hand. “I’m beginning to realize that princes aren’t nearly as charming as I’d been led to believe.” Then, more quietly: “This one, in particular, has fallen well beneath my expectations—which I fear were great, indeed.”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care!” sang Miss Huda. “I’m no longer interested in the lives, deaths, and bloated heads of royalty. I’ve put up with enough snobbery in my life, I think, and I’ve just decided I’m quite done with it. Besides, I didn’t come all this way to manage the tantrums of an overgrown child, I came here to help Alizeh—who, despite her apparent crown, never once spoke to me in such an insulting manner.”

“The more I learn about this young woman,” Sarra was saying, “the more I look forward to welcoming her into my family.”

By the angels, this cannot be undone. The consequences—”

“You must prepare yourself, ma’am. By now, word of her appearance has likely spread halfway around the globe. They’ll come for her from every corner of the earth—they’ve likely begun their pilgrimages already—”

No one had ever cared for him as she did.

Here, he was safe. With her, he was safe.

“When you’re here,” he said, “nothing is wrong.”

But Cyrus was shaken, watching her with a hunger he couldn’t fathom into words. “You could probably kill me and I’d thank you for it.”

“I want it all, angel. Not just your joy but your sorrow. Not just your hope but your fear. I want your anger and disdain, your frustration and contempt—”

“I love you,” she whispered. Always, this rendered him speechless.

He loved all of her: the shape of her lips, her hips, her slender hands and the freckle at the base of her throat. He’d kissed that freckle a thousand times, had spent countless hours learning her, loving her, discovering the desires of her body. It didn’t matter how many nights he’d spent in her arms. Always, in her presence, he felt himself coming apart with a need that felt a great deal like madness.

“NO,” he cried, jolting away from her. “No—no—” “Cyrus—” She reached for him, alarmed, but he tore away, his limbs tangling in the bedclothes. “Don’t— Please—” He dropped his head in his hands. “Oh God—not again—I can’t—I won’t survive it—” “What’s happening?” she said, panicking. “What’s wrong—?” “No—no—NO,” he shouted, falling off the bed. “This isn’t real, this isn’t real—wake up, you fucking idiot—wake up, wake up, WAKE UP—”

Like intermittent electrocutions, he was experiencing flashes of sensation from his nightmare: the sound of her crying out; the sight of her washing his body; the taste of her, God, the taste of her—

“I once heard of a king who tried to catch a dagger between his teeth! He never said a word after that—”

“Are you such a coward,” interrupted the prince, “that you would leave my death to another? Are you so afraid to fight me yourself?”

LET ME AT HIMM

“No, you’re right,” said Cyrus, reaching for the scabbard still slung at his waist. “Best if I kill you now, isn’t it? Best to do what I should’ve done the other night, and spare this world the heft of your useless, pathetic weight.”

HEHEHEHE

“I speak of your actions toward Alizeh!” Cyrus cried. “I refer to your unmitigated arrogance! You expect to be king of the largest empire on earth, responsible for the countless needs and protections of innumerable citizens, and yet over and over you exercise that imperious, self-satisfied speck of a brain only in the service of yourself, putting the lives of your dependents—innocents—at risk, in order to slake the thirst of your revenge, meanwhile you needed only to ask if I would face you in a duel, for I would have readily accepted—”

“And who are you,” Kamran thundered, “murderous, barbaric king that you are, to educate me on caring for the lives of innocents?” Cyrus stilled, the familiar burn of fury scorching him from within. “King Zaal was no innocent.”

Omid was sitting stock-still in his seat, his big eyes wide with manifest fear.

get the popcorn

It wasn’t until he realized Kamran had won Alizeh’s affections—that they’d known each other with some intimacy, that she’d cared for him enough to protect him— Only then had he grown to hate the prince.

Somehow it didn’t matter that Alizeh had been but a conjuring of his imagination. It didn’t matter that they’d never known each other outside of the delusions of his mind. It didn’t matter that she owed him nothing. He’d loved her.

Fiction or not, she’d embedded inside him, replaced the air in his lungs. That she’d proven to be real—more exquisite than he’d dreamed—and entirely ignorant of him, had been more than he could bear. To then discover that she’d given her heart to another—that he’d known her in ways Cyrus never would—had been nearly unsurvivable. And yet, it was the only reason he hadn’t killed Kamran that night.

“Insult me again,” he said, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper, “and I will not be merciful.”

“Enough,” he shouted. “I’ve had enough of you two idiots!” Then, turning, he focused his wrath on Cyrus:

hehehe

And then he heard her again, her voice breathless with desire— Do you know what I love most about you?

“An insightful question,” Cyrus mused. “I hadn’t realized you were capable of intelligent thought.”

“She doesn’t have to do what the devil wants,” Cyrus said irritably. “I do.”

“Good God.” Cyrus sighed angrily. He stared the lot of them in the eye. “Enough of this. Show of hands, who here wants me dead?” “Is this some kind of joke to you—” Kamran began angrily, cutting himself off as the boy, the girl, and the older one began slowly raising their hands.

“Alizeh did not wish for you to die” was his cold response.

“What?” Sarra nearly screamed. “What?” echoed the prince, who couldn’t hide his shock. “Oh my goodness,” breathed Huda, blinking fast.

“By the angels,” Hazan said softly, shock and awe burning in his eyes. “You’re willing to die for this.” “Once my debt to the devil has been fulfilled,” Cyrus said flatly, “Alizeh would be free to kill me at her leisure. My empire would become hers, to rule over as she wishes.”

“For as long as he remains in debt to her,” Hazan explained, his eyes on Cyrus, “he will be physically bound to her. He’ll have almost no free will. Blood oaths were responsible for long stretches of darkness throughout our history.” He hesitated. “They’re everlasting oaths. They cannot be broken.”

“You would hand over your birthright for a single night as her husband?”

“I would never,” Cyrus cut in viciously. “Think what you will of me in all other aspects, but even I am not so unworthy as that. She is entirely safe from me.”

“Yes. I’ll make it clear I won’t touch her unless she wants me to.”

“Miss,” whispered the boy. “What does consummate mean?”

IM CRYING

“I disagree,” said the prince with immaculate calm. “In fact, I think it will do nicely for revenge.” He met Cyrus’s eyes. “You will die, she will inherit your empire, and then— I shall marry her.”

“If this is about my queen,” said the Jinn, “I’m coming with you.”