Not all Ghuls are evil.
His own words washed over him like a wave cresting the shore, sending foreboding trickling down his spine. As the female’s shallow breaths across the room gave way to longer, deeper ones, his memories drifted back to those last few moments he’d spent with Talah. Standing on the cliffs behind her house, overlooking the sea. The salty air blowing her long, dark hair back from her face.
“You worry too much, Nasir.”
“This is my father’s war, not mine. If it were up to me—”
“If it were up to you, there’d be a treaty. But your father is right. The Ghuls don’t want peace. War is the only solution.”
“Not all Ghuls are evil, Talah. Like us, like humans even, some are good and some are bad. War is not the way to solve our differences.”
Her expression said she didn’t agree. But she smiled up at him in that placating way he’d come to dread and lifted her fingers to his cheek. “Forever the pacifist. You have a gentle spirit, Nasir. If anyone can see the good at the heart of a person, it’s you.”
He wasn’t sure of that. But he closed his eyes, leaned into her touch, wanting to be comforted by her words. He’d preached about tolerance and acceptance, and now he was doing the very thing he’d argued against. He still believed peace was possible, even if his father disagreed, but because he was second in line to the throne and a general in the king’s army, he had no choice. That didn’t mean he was naïve enough to think that there wouldn’t be consequences, though, or that he’d escape unscathed.
His eyes popped open. “Come with me to the castle. Until I can convince the king to stop this asinine war, you’ll be safer there.”
“Nasir—”
He ground his teeth together. “Don’t feed me arguments about not wanting to live with me before we wed or your work at the infirmary, Talah. Just humor me in this.”
She sighed, stared at his breastplate marked with the golden flame of the Marid tribe. Bit her lip as she debated what he hoped was a losing argument. Just this once, he needed her to acquiesce and not be so damn stubborn.
Finally, she sighed. “You’re impossible, Marid.”
“You’re not the first to tell me that.”
“All right,” she said, looking up. “But not today. I have to let the others know I’m leaving so they have time to find a replacement at the infirmary. At least, temporarily.” Her gray eyes sparked. “This doesn’t mean we’ve agreed to anything, though, or that I’ve decided.”
Relief washed through him as he dragged her into his arms. He could live with that. So long as she was safe, he’d have time to find a way to convince her she couldn’t live without him. “I’ll send castle guards to escort you tomorrow.”
He kissed her, slowly, gently, with every bit of passion he had in him, and when he eased back, he saw the doubt in her eyes. Doubt he planned to alleviate the moment he returned from this useless battle his father was sending him to.
He skimmed a finger down her soft cheek. “I’ll always keep you safe.”
Her brow furrowed. “I know you think you will, Nasir, but you can’t. And I don’t need anyone to keep me safe. Death comes to us all at one point. You can’t stop it any more than I can. And I wouldn’t want you to.”
Regret burned hot behind Nasir’s closed eyelids, but he fought back the emotions struggling to shatter the shell he’d built around himself. So many times he’d thought about dropping his sword in the arena, of giving up and letting the Ghuls win so he could join Talah in the afterlife, but something always held him back. Though it went against everything he’d once been, he wouldn’t rest until every last Ghul was destroyed. And not until he found a way to kill the sorceress who’d commanded the Ghuls to pillage Talah’s village in the first place.
The female on his bed sighed. Opening his eyes, Nasir looked her way, fighting back the resentment at her presence. Thankfully, she was still asleep. He watched a wayward curl brushed her cheek and fall over her mouth, her slow breaths fluttering the lock of hair against her lips, reminding him of Talah’s hair blowing in the breeze that last day.
What would Talah have done if she were in this female’s place? If she’d been thrown in here with him, would she have stood her ground or backed down? He’d been drawn to Talah’s gentle spirit, her willingness to help those less fortunate, but she’d never been a fighter. In fact, the biggest regret he had was that he’d never taught her how to protect herself so she would’ve known what to do when those Ghuls attacked.
The female shivered, and Nasir looked down at the blanket he was sitting on with a frown. He already wasn’t getting any love from Malik. If the highborn died from exposure in this freezing cell, not only would his mu’allim be after him, the Ghuls would flat-out execute him, no questions asked. And while death didn’t scare him in the least, it wouldn’t help him achieve his goal of revenge.
Pushing to his feet, he gripped the blanket and stood upright. His head spun, and the room tilted. Bracing a hand against the wall to steady himself, he told himself it was lack of food. He eyed the tray across the room, the metal picking up the light from under the door, and thought about eating. Then his stomach rolled, stopping that thought dead in its tracks.
Sleep was a better idea. He shuffled across the floor, tossed the blanket over the highborn, and swiftly tugged it up to her shoulders. But before he could get a step away, she sighed, snuggled deeper into the cotton, and licked her plump, pink, perfect lips.
His gaze drifted over her features. So different from Talah’s. Freckles across the bridge of her nose, a mole near the corner of her right eye, high cheekbones, and just the slightest dimple in her chin. With her pale skin and those startling eyes, there was no denying that she was…exotic.
The word revolved in his mind the longer he stared at her, unable to look away. He’d seen hundreds of Ghuls since he’d been here, but none of the females, slaves or free, had been as enticing as her.
She sighed again, the sound jolting him out of his trance. Enticing? Shit. He smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead and turned back for his corner.
“Not exotic,” he mumbled. “Stupid.” It was more than possible the highborns were setting some kind of trap for him with her, and he was even more determined now not to fall into it.
He lowered himself back to the cold floor, shifted against the stones, and cringed at the sharp shot of pain in his side. Glancing down, he realized the bandage he’d wrapped around his torso was soaked with blood.
Fucking fabulous. Just what he needed. But there was nothing he could do about it now except wait until morning. Closing his eyes, he tried to rest.
Sleep came fitfully. His side burned, his legs ached, and he felt as if he’d been through a meat grinder, thanks to Malik’s workout. He shivered, wrapped his arms around himself, shifted deeper into the corner and tried to find warmth as the hours ticked by. But even as he drifted between sleep and consciousness, images wafted behind his eyes. Talah’s dark hair blowing in the breeze, her olive skin, her gentle smile. Images that slowly morphed until her eyes were no longer gray but sharp, green gems, her hair a drape of wavy red, her lips not curved in sweet compassion but plump, erotic…tempting.