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“Get up,” he said quietly. Her chest heaved. “Get up, Shahrzad al-Khayzuran. You kneel before no one. Least of all me.” “Khalid—” “Do what you came to do. You owe me no explanation. I deserve none.” Shahrzad released a choked sob, and Khalid grabbed her by the arms.
“I can’t.” “You can. For Shiva. You are boundless. There is nothing you can’t do.” “I can’t do this!” “You can.”
You owe me nothing. I am nothing.” How can you say that? You are . . .
“You are not weak. You are not indecisive. You are strong. Fierce. Capable beyond measure.”
If there has to be a choice between us, there isn’t one to make, joonam. Not for me.” My everything. Shahrzad rose to her knees and braced her palm against his chest. “And you expect me to make this choice?” she demanded. He nodded once, his eyes ablaze. She curled her fingers into the front of his qamis. “You honestly expect me to breathe in a world without air?”
“But . . . there is nothing stronger than this.” Her hold on the dagger was gone. It clattered to the floor. Shahrzad brought her palms to his chest. “Hate. Judgment. Retribution. As you said, revenge will never replace what I have lost. What you have lost. All we have is now. And our promise to make it better.” She wound her fingers into his hair. “There is no one I would rather see the sunrise with than you.”
They knelt facing each other in silence. Studying each other. Truly seeing each other—without any pretense, without any masks, without any agenda. For the first time, Shahrzad allowed her eyes to linger on every facet of him without the fear of his sharp mind tearing through veils of gossamer and gold— And seeing the truth.
“Be with me tonight,” she breathed. “In all ways. Be mine.” His eyes turned to fire. “I’ve always been yours.” He cupped her chin in his palm. “As you’ve always been mine.”
Khalid leaned his brow against her stomach. “I won’t ask for forgiveness, but I am so very sorry,” he said, with the simple brevity she was learning to expect.
“I don’t care. Don’t let him cut you again.”
She stared at him, surprised to see a flicker of vulnerability on his face. The mighty Caliph of Khorasan. The King of Kings. Her beautiful monster.
“I love you,” she said. Khalid lifted his head to hers. She placed a hand against his cheek. “Beyond words.”
“My soul sees its equal in you.”
For the boy who was an impossible, improbable study in contrasts. The boy who burned her life to cinder, only to remake of it a world unlike any she had ever known. Tomorrow, she could worry about such a thing as loyalty. Tomorrow, she could worry about the price of such betrayal. Tonight, all that mattered was this. Their hands threaded above her head. His low whisper in her ear. Just one boy and one girl. This. Oblivion.
Shahrzad awoke to the scent of roses. To the scent of home.
For nothing, not the sun, not the rain, not even the brightest star in the darkest sky, could begin to compare to the wonder of you.
He looked menacing and unapproachable—a thousand years, a thousand lives, a thousand tales away. But Shahrzad knew better. She met him in the center of the chamber. His eyes were warm. Her heart soared at the sight.
She held out her right hand, and he slid a band of muted gold onto its third finger. It was the mate to his.
And he smiled a smile to shame the sun.
“Khalid?” He pivoted to face her. She ran to him and grabbed the front of his rida’ to pull him down for a kiss. He froze for a moment, then reached a hand behind her waist to pull her closer.
Shahrzad did not care. For this was a kiss of definition. A kiss of understanding. For a marriage absent pretense. And a love without design.
I believe you know what happened to the last soldier who touched me against my will. But, by all means, you are welcome to try. I’m certain my husband will be thrilled to learn of this encounter.
“Murderer, monster, madman . . . Khalid may very well be all of those things. But he’s also loved. By me and by my father. But, most of all, by Shazi. With her, he is as fiercely loved as he loves.”
“But,” she whispered, “I am home.”
“No. I can’t leave.” She fought to set her quaking jaw. “I won’t leave. I’m not . . . afraid.”
When I think of you, I can’t find the air to breathe. And now, though you are gone, there is no pain or fear. All I am left with is gratitude.
I love you, a thousand times over. And I will never apologize for it.
