This mattered little.
He went to her in a few strides, removed his coat without a word, and laid it gently over her shoulders. All this he did so quickly she looked up at him just as he turned to walk away, and she caught his arm before he could go. He felt the press of her hand through his sleeve like a branding iron, his heart picking up as he halted, then watched as she gestured to Huda and Kamran to go on ahead. Only when they were alone did she release him, and he felt almost as if he’d been tricked.
“Cyrus,” she said.
He was afraid to look at her face. He would not look into her eyes. “Yes?” he said to the dark.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “Your coat is so warm I fear I could fall asleep inside it.”
He swallowed, hating the way this gratified him. “You’re welcome.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“No.”
She laughed, and he wanted to dissolve.
“Here is my question,” she said. “If you cannot bear to be near me now, how will you survive what’s yet to come?”
Now he did look at her, his breath catching as he stared into her eyes, soft and gleaming in the reflected moonlight. He seemed to sink into the grass as he gazed at her, the world blurring beyond the space she occupied. There was something so gentle about her presence, something that reminded him of magic: all curves, no edges. He wanted to press his face against her neck, wanted to breathe in the fragrance of her skin, the perfume of the flowers he’d grown himself. He wanted to make her laugh. He wanted to hold her hand. He wanted to bring her tea and walk with her through the seasons. He wanted to watch her conquer the earth. He wanted to glide his hand down her naked back, wanted to taste the salt of her, wanted to bite her bottom lip and lose himself inside her.
God, the things he wanted.
The longer he looked at her, the worse he felt, and the more unsteady she appeared. Her breaths had grown shallow, her eyes deeper; darker.
“Cyrus,” she whispered.
He shook his head, inhaling sharply as he finally tore himself away. “I won’t survive it,” he said. “It’s your job to make sure I don’t.”
THIRTY-ONE
IT WASN’T LONG AFTER HEleft her that a neat cottage came into view. Nestled between two towering trees in a private corner of the palace grounds, the stone edifice was all but buried under overgrown moonflower vines, whose circular white blooms released a soft, sweet smell that beckoned as they approached. Warm light shone in the warped windows, a curl of smoke escaping from the chimney stack. It appeared Cyrus had prepared for their arrival.
The five of them had fallen into a tense silence these past few minutes. Even Huda, who’d returned to Alizeh’s side, was exercising a rare discretion by not demanding to know the details of her conversation with Cyrus. Instead, the young woman sent her sly, questioning looks that Alizeh acknowledged only once, with a wary smile. There was so much to say, and nothing to discuss.
What Alizeh was feeling for Cyrus had begun to frighten her, and she needed to accept that her affection for him was both dangerous and pointless. She was making a choice, with every step she took this very moment, to perform an irreversible oath that would change both their lives forever; they’d be bound to a morbid ending that could never be undone. What was the point of continuing on in this vein, torturing herself for glimpses into his heart, for pieces of him he’d never be free to give?In order to trust him she’d need answers he could never provide – for the devil had forbade him from speaking the truth.
It didn’t matter that she wanted to trust him anyway.
It didn’t matter that he’d given her the coat off his back, that she was warmed even then by the heat of him, her head dizzy with the lingering scent of his skin. It didn’t matter that she watched him now with a longing that was as painful to her as it was confusing.
Alizeh had made a decision, and she would not diverge from the path before her. She’d been born to lead her people to freedom, to protect them from the cruelty of a world that sought to misunderstand and destroy them. Nothing else could matter. She had to accept as fact that sometimes revolution demanded darkness in exchange for light.
Here, tonight, was proof.
Cyrus came to a stop in front of the cottage door, reaching for the handle when he suddenly hesitated, then turned back to look upon their small party. “Have any of you experienced magic before?”
“Magic?” said Huda drily. “You mean like that nasty trick you pulled that made me lose my voice?”
“Or when you left the prince paralyzed,” Hazan added, “and half-dead in his own home?”
“Bastard,” Kamran muttered.
“I’m referring to organic magic,” Cyrus said impassively. “Have you ever felt it in its pure, unprocessed form?”
“No,” said Alizeh, who felt a prickle of unease. “Why?”
He shook his head, turning back to the cottage. “It can be a little unsettling if you’re not expecting it.Do not be alarmed.”
