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“They would not kill you unless you had already refused their offer to join. Have you spoken to anyone unfamiliar?” “Only the Nizahl Heir and four of his unfriendliest guardsmen.” Arin tipped his head back, gazing at the ceiling. Reminding himself of all the reasons he needed to keep me alive?
The corner of his mouth twitched. A small victory. I wondered if I might someday see the Nizahl Heir smile without acting as though he’d be fined for it.
A soft laugh escaped Arin. The sound reverberated beneath the palm I’d placed on his chest. It was the first time I’d heard him really laugh.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose. “Drop the sword, Sylvia,” Arin said, low and soothing. I had not heard him enter, but it didn’t matter. I would sense him from miles away.
“The way most men love is so boring. It is frequent and fickle and altogether unextraordinary. Arin would love to obsession. To madness. But do you want to know the real reason he would never allow himself to love another?” Vaida stepped close, her floral scent tickling my nose. “Arin is consumed by what he loves. If asked, he would get on his knees and let it kill him. He withholds his heart out of self-preservation.”
me and WHO
At this, Arin broke out into a grin. My heart, which had done an excellent job of beating for my nearly twenty-one years of life, stuttered at the sight.
He was the most achingly beautiful threat I’d ever seen. Arin glanced up and froze. A myriad of emotions flashed over his features, too many and too complicated to name. He straightened, gaze roaming over my gown. “Sefa did wonderful work on your dress.” He sounded dazed. I had watched him bleed half to death without sounding anything but composed.
“Although you are certainly not endearing yourself to Vaida.” “Oh?” I managed. “It’s customary for the hostess to outshine her guests.” Arin’s eyes swirled with humor and something quieter, more intimate. Just for me. “You’ve made that impossible.”
Arin and Vaida shared a bench, heads bent together. A clearly private conversation, and the way Vaida leaned toward him signaled intimacy. I knew Vaida wanted to destroy his kingdom, as surely as I knew Arin would snap her neck without a thought. And yet, a lump formed in my throat.
Arin gifted me one of his rare smiles. My stomach clenched, and it took an inordinate amount of time to tear my gaze from his mouth. He should know better than to share his smiles with me. I should know better than to crave them.
Birds had practiced their sweet songs for generations, but even their music did not compare to the sound of Arin’s laugh.
“I am glad to hear you speak my name outside of imminent danger,” Arin said softly, and the battle was lost.
It didn’t feel like betrayal. It felt like wandering through the woods for an endless night and finally stumbling into the dawn.
After a lifetime of running, he was my homecoming.
“Save me a dance at the Victor’s Ball, Your Highness.” His smile was small and fleeting. “I would have to learn first.” I gasped, clutching my heart. “Have I stumbled across a fault? In the magnificent Commander, the lofty Nizahl Heir? Impossible. I cannot believe it.” Arin sighed. “That’s quite enough.”
“I bought this for you,” I said in a shower of syllables. “You don’t have to wear it, of course, I just thought. If you wanted. The violet color reminded me of the ravens on your coat.” I didn’t say that figs reminded me of safety and comfort. Two things that—in a painfully ironic twist of fate—I had come to associate with Arin.
Stem the epiphany that I wanted more of Arin, more of his life, his time, his rare smiles? I wanted to be known by him. To lay my shame and regret in his confidence and trust he would hold them firm.
Cursed knowledge, Raya would say. How could I walk away after knowing how he felt in my arms? My name whispered in his wrecked voice—how could I allow anyone else to say my name after him?
“Do you have the faintest clue how you frustrate me?” His mouth found the pulse jumping at my throat. The solid contours of his body pressed me to the wardrobe, pinning me in place. “How you fascinate me?”
The way he looks you at sometimes. Like you are a cliff with a fatal fall, and each day you move him closer to its edge.
“My demented Suraira, we have much to discuss about seduction.”
