“We’ll need at least three witnesses,” he said, lowering his head. “Though I’m sure you’ll have no trouble convincing your friends to watch me suffer.”
Alizeh frowned, then moved to the door in a daze, her skirts whispering along the floor. She came to a halt in front of him, their bodies only a hand apart – and she studied his chest, then his throat, his jaw, the curve of his lips. Her voice was a little breathless when she said, “You can’t just ignore the things I say and hope they go away.”
“I’ll meet you in the library downstairs,” he said.
It was unconscious, what she did next; she didn’t mean to touch him, not exactly. In fact, she couldn’t even remember lifting her hand to his body. She only remembered the softness of his sweater, the heat and hardness of his torso beneath – and thenrelief, intoxicating relief when he finally touched her, when he dragged his hands down her body with a tortured sound, his palms branding her through the thin tissue of her dress before he gripped her hips, hard, and she bit back a cry, startling as the door slammed shut only to discover, with a shock, that she was pressed against it, held in place by the hot length of him, his chest heaving so hard it seemed to mirror the chaos inside hers. He looked wild and barely leashed, as if the effort to keep himself still was actively killing him.
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he said, his voice so rough it was unrecognizable. “You don’t know what I want from you, angel. You can’t even imagine.”
“What do you mean?” She stared up at him, her heart hammering in her chest. “What is it you want?”
His eyes seemed to glaze over at that, the blue of his irises blown out by black, and he dipped his head, nearly touching her lips as he exhaled, his body shaking. “Everything,” he whispered, releasing her suddenly, backing away as if she’d run him through with a blade. “I wanteverything.”
Alizeh felt liquefied. For all the frost in her veins, she’d never known this kind of fever, never felt such desperation. And he’d never even kissed her.
She made a breathless, anguished sound.
“I’ll see you downstairs,” he said, staring at the floor. “Twenty minutes.”
This time, she fled without a word.
TWENTY-EIGHT
“SO?” HUDA WAS WAITING FORher at the bottom of the staircase. “How’d it go?”
Alizeh kept walking, her eyes averted even as Huda chased after her. She felt shaken. Unwell. She wasn’t quite ready to speak, and she didn’t know what to do with her heart, which was battering her ribs so hard she thought they might bruise.
“Fine,” she said. “It went fine.”
“Fine?What do you – Heavens, look at your face,” Huda gasped. She stopped Alizeh in place, holding her at arm’s length for an inspection. “What did he do to you?”
“What?” Alizeh, who felt unreasonably vexed by this question, looked into Huda’s steady brown eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Did he try to hurt you?” Again, she gasped. “Was he horrible? Oh, I knew you shouldn’t have gone in there alone – I tried to tell you –”
“No, he didn’t try tohurtme,” she said, delivering the words with more heat than she intended, and regretting it the moment she saw the astonishment on Huda’s face.
“Forgive me,” she said. “I didn’t mean to direct that anger at you. It’s been a difficult day.”
Huda softened at once, her eyes heavy with sympathy. “Of course, dear. I understand.”
Alizeh had never been in such a bad mood.
She drew away from Huda, wrapping her arms around herself. She felt frustrated and confused; she wanted the world around her to make sense, and it didn’t. Cyrus was supposed to be evil. She wanted him to act evil. He wasn’t supposed to be kind and deferential and considerate. He was the character she was meant to kill without a crisis of conscience. She wasn’t supposed to lose her head. She wasn’t supposed to feel likethis, like there was an open wound inside her, like she wanted to sit down and cry.
The feeling came dangerously close to grief.
She moved blindly down the hall, not knowing where she was headed. She didn’t want him to die. She didn’t want to perform a blood oath. She didn’t want to kill him.The library.Where was the library? Was it necessary for her to kill him?Yes, she considered, for if she didn’t kill him, she’d be married to a man bonded with Iblees, which meant she could never fully trust him; he might one day hurt her if only to please the devil – Cyrus himself had not denied such a possibility. Then again – Kamran had offered to marry her, hadn’t he? That was an interesting alternative, but then she’d have to be married, forever, to Kamran – which, while not so terrible a prospect, did make her feel a bit claustrophobic. Yet, if she married Kamran, perhaps Cyrus might not die. Exceptno, that wasn’t right, because the devil would kill him anyway, wouldn’t he? And would Kamran still want to marry her without the jewel of Tulan in her possession?
She made a pitiful sound.
Where on earth was the library? She’d only seen it once,in passing, on her first day at the palace. She supposed she could ask a servant, but she didn’t want to draw attention to their evening plans. If only she could remember –
“Did you set a date, then?”
“A date?” Alizeh echoed, distracted. Huda was keeping up with her, the look of concern in her eyes growing only stronger.
“For the wedding.” Huda frowned. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
