These Infinite Threads (This Woven Kingdom, #2)

by Tahereh Mafi

If I renege on our agreement at any point, in any way, my life will be his to control forevermore.

I hated you for being real, for coming to life only to personify torture, to be another trial to endure. In fact I wanted to hate you. I wanted to discover your faults, your flaws. I thought you’d never match up to the figment of my dreams, and I was wrong. You are far more enchanting in real life. Far more exquisite.” His voice shook just a little when he said, softly, “It is excruciating to be in your presence.”

“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.”

Don’t speak of things you cannot give me.” “You have no idea what I could give you,” he said, his own eyes blazing. “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.”

“No, I could never be with you,” she said. “Not because I am indifferent, but because you could never be faithful to me—you could never choose me first—and you should not blame me for my fears.”

You might break me just to please him.” When he did not deny this—when he only looked at her, looked at her like he wanted to drive a dagger through his chest—she had her answer.

“After all this—after everything I’ve shared with you tonight—you would become my wife,” he said, his voice ragged, “in title only?” “Yes,” she said quietly. “You wouldn’t touch me. Or laugh with me. You wouldn’t share my bed.” Her heart was beating in her throat. “No.” “Alizeh, you would make me the most wretched man alive.”

“I am well aware,” he said, lowering his eyes, “of how I did this to myself. You need not bury the blade any deeper.”

“But will you promise me something, angel? When you do decide to kill me, will you tell me how you intend to do it?”

Alizeh was still staring at his mouth, wishing the world beyond these walls would drop dead just long enough for her to know his answer,