The wordsshe’s betrothedechoed relentlessly in my mind, a mantra I clung to in a futile attempt to temper the emotions stirring within me.
“Be discreet with these.” Zara gestured toward the supplies. “Lee can vouch that he had them.”
Her implicit trust in me did nothing to alleviate the weight of responsibility now resting on my shoulders.
“Reyna will be cared for,” I said, securing the satchel in a hidden compartment of my saddle. Reyna needed protection, and whether fate or poor luck had led me to her, I wouldn’t let her down. Nor would I abandon Marcellious. Both had suffered greatly.
Zara climbed onto a flat-topped boulder, her stature above our makeshift litter. She leaned close to Reyna, her fragile form shrouded in a cloak that did little to disguise the tremors that occasionally coursed through her. I could not hear Zara’s tenderly spoken words, but I saw their impact; Reyna’s eyes glistened with a sheen of tears, the kind born from whispered encouragements or shared secrets.
“Even the strongest warriors face setbacks. Everything will be alright, my dear,” was all that drifted on the wind to my ears.
A solitary tear tracked down Reyna’s cheek, carving a clean path through the dust of her trials. She nodded subtly—whether in agreement or determination, I couldn’t be sure.
Zara turned her keen gaze upon me, her eyes flashing an unspoken warning mingled with an ironclad resolve.
“Remember your duty and stick to the plan,” Zara continued as she stepped forward, her movements fluid as she closed the distance between us.
“Don’t come back here. Stay the course. It will get harder, Malik, but don’t let it break you. Don’t lose control.”
Her commands were etched into my mind, each a beacon to guide me through the coming storm. I touched her shoulder, a gesture of parting between warriors faced with separate battles. And, in a moment brimming with the unspoken fears and hopes that clung to our mission, I leaned forward and brushed my lips against her cheek—a silent vow to fight, to protect, to survive.
“Now,” I murmured, letting my breath ghost over the loose strands of her hair, “it’s time to fight the ultimate battle.”
“Be well, my friend.” She nodded before leaping off the stone on which she had been standing.
With those words lingering between us like a sacred oath, I straightened and looked over my shoulder at Reyna, offering a reassuring smile.
Gripping the reins with a white-knuckled grip, I dug my spurs into Swiftwind’s flanks, urging the powerful steed onward. The path ahead was uncertain, and responsibility weighed heavily on me. How many lives would be lost in the treacherous months ahead?
CHAPTER NINE
MALIK
The rhythmic cadence of our horse’s hooves against the hard-packed earth provided a steady undertone to my racing thoughts as we made our way toward the caves. A sliver of the moon provided the barest illumination.
Reyna’s touch scorched me from the inside out. Her fingers grazed my shoulders with an inadvertent intimacy as she adjusted her position, and my gut clenched with a desire that was becoming painfully hard to ignore.
“Are you alright?” Reyna asked, her voice soft and laced with concern, stoking the fire within me.
“Fine,” I managed to grunt.
As much as I tried to focus on the path ahead, my mind couldn’t help but wade through the murky waters of self-reflection. It seemed to be my curse, falling for women whose hearts were promised to others, eternally reaching for what was beyond my grasp.
Reyna shifted closer, perhaps seeking solace from the jarring motion of our journey, or maybe it was something else, a need that mirrored my own. She nestled her head against my shoulder, a gesture so innocent yet fraught with meaning. She wrapped her arms around me, holding on as if I were the anchor in this vast, unpredictable world. My body responded to her nearness with a ferocity that left little room for denial.
Osman doesn’t deserve her,I thought with a bitter edge.She needs passion, someone who can match her fire and make her feel alive. Someone like me.
I’d always prided myself on being the kind of man who could sweep a woman off her feet—bringing danger, excitement, and seduction together in an irresistible whirlwind. Yet here was Reyna, fierce and breathtaking, tethered to Osman—the embodiment of predictability and safety.
Osman, the scholar, the bookworm,I scoffed inwardly, my grip tightening on the reins to keep my hands from straying to where they longed to be—entwined in the silky strands of Reyna’s hair, tracing the curves of her body pressed so intimately against mine.She deserves a man who lives on the edge and embraces the thrill of the unknown. Not him.
My jealousy flared, hot and sharp, as we continued our trek. I had to remind myself to breathe and maintain the facade of stoic calm, even as every fiber of my being screamed to claim what I so desperately wanted. But duty called, and with a heavy heart, I focused on the path before us, leading us back to the realities of Roman, Osman, and the fate that awaited us at Mathias’ wretched estate.
“So... how long have you been betrothed to Osman?” My voice seemed too loud in the stillness of our journey, grating against the quiet.
She shifted slightly, her head still resting on my shoulder, but she remained ensconced in her world, her arms loosely around me, a touch that was both torture and ecstasy. The silence stretched, and I was left with only the sound of our horse hooves and Marcellious’ pained groans punctuating the air.
“Marcellious,” I murmured, glancing back at him with concern and impatience, “hang in there.”
