These Infinite Threads (This Woven Kingdom, #2)

by Tahereh Mafi

Zaal had been false. Hazan had been false. Alizeh— Alizeh had ruined him.

Alizeh felt as if her lips were numb. “I will not.” “You will not speak?” “I will not marry you.” Cyrus sighed.

“Fling yourself into the sky as many times as you like. There will be no escape. I will not allow you to die.”

“Is it terribly thrilling to imagine yourself the sole object of my thoughts and desires? Do you purposely deny me ownership of basic dignities, excluding from your memories the essential fact that I was forced into this situation just as you were—all in the pursuit of feeling sorry for yourself?” He shook his head. “My, but it must be exhausting to be a narcissist.”

She didn’t think she could return to a life of obscurity until she’d felled her enemies—and hers were formidable indeed.

Oh, she had never feared death. No, it was life that scared her, life that scarred her. It was the slow torture of consciousness that had done its utmost to crush her.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he said, his smile vanishing. “Even when you lie to me.”

MELT THE ICE IN SALT BRAID THE THRONES AT SEA IN THIS WOVEN KINGDOM CLAY AND FIRE SHALL BE

“I hate you,” he whispered. Alizeh blinked, her heart pounding too hard in her chest. “I know.” He leaned in then, his throat working, his gaze fixed entirely on her mouth. “I hate everything about you. Your eyes. Your lips. Your smile.” His words grazed her skin when he said, softly, “I find your presence insufferable.”

“Marry me,” Cyrus said, a spark of heat in his eyes. “Become my queen just long enough to sate the devil’s demands. Once he’s satisfied, he’ll discharge me of a tremendous debt, and I’ll be that much closer to my freedom. When I’m finally free, I give you leave to kill me at your leisure and take Tulan for yourself.” Alizeh stiffened, disbelief roaring through her, even as the nosta burned hot against her chest. “You can’t be serious,” she breathed. “My kingdom,” he said softly. “For your hand.”

If only Cyrus hadn’t turned out to be so very, very human. Slowly, Alizeh fell to her knees. She took Cyrus’s limp hand in hers, and, like a fool, she cried for him.

She’d begged him to wake. He did not stir.

“I didn’t know your name for so long, angel. I love the way it feels in my mouth.”

“Don’t be afraid of me, angel. I won’t hurt you. I’ll never hurt you.”

“I would marry you,” he said, stepping closer again, coming dangerously within reach. “I’d marry you tomorrow. And then I’d take you to bed. For weeks.”

“You don’t understand,” he said, tortured. “I’ve been dreaming about you for months.”

“You act as if I’m intentionally cruel. As if I’m indifferent to you.” “Aren’t you?” “No,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “Of course not.” Cyrus stared at her from where he stood, his chest heaving with barely leashed intensity. He devastated her with that look, even as he seemed planted in the ground, immovable. “Then be with me,” he said softly. “Let me worship you.”

“You have no idea what I want. I have been in agony for eight months, Alizeh. Do you know how hard it’s been to pretend I don’t know you? To pretend I don’t want you? To act as if I haven’t known every inch of your body in my dreams? To learn that your heart has been entangled elsewhere? I look at you and I can’t breathe. In my mind, you are already mine.”