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His mother used to say that a person without hope was a body without a soul.
“There are things a person knows. I know he’s out there, that someone. Probably as grumpy as you. He’ll look into those icy eyes of yours and make you blush and wish you could begin all over again. I just know it.
Was it beyond them? Who decides what’s out of reach, if not we ourselves?
“Be as victorious as the name I have given you, and bring the desert to its knees.
‘He’s not always this grumpy. Then again, he’s one of those people who talks less and murders more.
The living can’t survive with promises to the dead.”
There once was a boy with a future. Until all he had left was his past.
There were words inside it: “for you, a thousand times.
Everything about her was harsh, from her cheekbones and the cut of her lips to the point of her nose and the starkness of the dark hair crowned in a hurried plait around her head. A profile of angles, a study of ice. Even her gaze was hard to hold, pale blue shards, cold and unfeeling, fringed with lashes that feathered her pale cheeks.
There was nothing more respectable and dangerous than a woman of confidence.
“If I told you my name, would you bow?” His voice was soft. A melancholy caress. He lifted his chin when understanding dawned on her face. “Or would you flee?”
“Congratulations, Huntress. You’re officially a murderer. Welcome to the club.”
“You’re likely among the privileged who tumble a different woman every night, only to kill her by sunrise.” Nasir donned a wolfish smile. “Fancy yourself Shahrazad, then?”
“Together, we will raise dunes from the earth and rain death from the sky. Together, we are capable of anything.
If a poet were to describe them, he would say to look into her eyes was to see the sea’s first glimpse of the sun, drinking its reflection with endless ripples. Or something like that. Nasir was no poet.
His gaze drifted to Kifah before it settled on the Huntress, roving across her form. Nasir wanted to cut him down where he stood.
Because a life without purpose is no life at all.”
A life without purpose may be no life, but a life without love is nothing but an existence.”
Delicious heat spread through her limbs, up her neck, across her nose and cheeks. She was grateful for the dim light, for the shadows obscuring her skin’s betrayal.
