POSSESSED BY DESIRE

by Elisabeth Naughton

  “Run!”

  Ashur’s word barely hit before she dove behind the boulder, but it was too late. Something grasped her ankle, spun her around, and let go. Her body flew through the air. Rain slapped her face. Though she couldn’t see where she was going, she knew she was going down. Into the crater. Toward a death she couldn’t stop. Fear gripped her, but she focused again. Her body came to a screeching halt just before she hit. She tore her eyes open and looked down. The ground was two feet below her.

  She gasped and broke focus. Her body dropped to the hard surface with a grunt.

  “You dare to challenge me?”

  The enraged voice made Claire whip around. Sweat slid down her brow as she looked up into fury-filled eyes. Scrambling backward, somehow she found her feet.

  “You are no threat to me,” Zoraida growled. The sorceress lifted her hands, and an electrical force arced from her fingertips. Claire leapt out of the way just before the ground she’d been sitting on burst into flames.

  “Claire, run!” Nasir hollered.

  Zoraida thrust a beam of energy from her hand. It hit Nasir in the chest. His body shook. He groaned, then went limp against his bonds.

  “Nasir!” Claire darted behind one side of the massive structure. Tried like hell to figure out what to do next. She didn’t know if he was alive or dead, but she couldn’t give up yet. She focused on drawing a bolt of lightning toward Zoraida, but with a flick of her wrist, the sorceress batted it away as if it were nothing but an inflatable beach ball.

  “Did you think you could beat me?” Zoraida roared, advancing on Claire. “You’re a fool to follow the djinni. He’s nothing. Useless. But soon your soul will be mine. And your powers.”

  Ashur. Maybe if she could free Ashur, they stood a chance. Claire ran behind one of the many support beams holding the structure up, closed her eyes, and imagined Ashur’s chains breaking free. Metal jangled above. Flames erupted at her right, and she tore her eyes open and jumped out of the way and avoid being charbroiled.

  “Come back here, angel,” Zoraida growled. “Give me what is mine.” Her arms lifted. Energy arced. Flames ignited near Claire’s feet again.

  Claire yelped, darted around the other side of the structure.

  From above, rattling chains echoed and Ashur yelled, “Claire! Use your light!”

  Her light? Claire didn’t know what the hell her light would do. Light wasn’t a weapon. Her pulse raced. Her mind scrambled for something that would save them.

  Zoraida stepped out from behind the stairs. Claire jerked back, scanned the area. She’d worked her way clear around the structure. To her right was the pit. To her left, nothing but sheer rock walls rising up to form the edge of the crater. And at her back, Nasir hanging from that pole. She’d never make it all the way around the pit before Zoraida zapped her.

  “Did you come back here to save him?” Zoraida asked with a menacing glint in her eye as she stepped forward. “Did you think you two could live happily ever after?” She chuckled, an evil, sickening sound. “He’s a pleasure slave. He’s trained to make you think he cares. He’d fuck anything I told him to. It’s all he’s good for.” She looked up at Ashur above, struggling with one arm still chained to the cable. “He’s mine. Alive or dead, he belongs to me.” She turned her dark gaze back toward Claire. “As will you be when I’m done with you.”

  “Claire!”

  The panic in Ashur’s voice hit Claire in the sternum. He wasn’t breaking free, and she couldn’t focus on two things at once.

  Her breaths quickened as she shuffled backward. Zoraida lifted her hands. Claire’s heart rate sped up. Energy arced from the sorceress’s fingertips.

  Claire gathered what was left of her strength. Closed her eyes. Focused on light. On purity. On goodness.

  “Goodness always triumphs over evil. Always.”

  “The sorceress does not hold sway over you, not unless you let her.”

  “Claire!”

  Energy snapped. The force hit Claire so hard it stole her breath. And then, as if she were a reflective surface, it bounced off and shot away from her.

  A scream rose up in the air. Claire tore her eyes open and gasped when she caught sight of the sorceress’s body erupting in flames.

  Fire consumed everything—Zoraida’s red dress, her blonde hair, her flawless skin. Her screams echoed through the darkness, the flames illuminated from a blinding white light pulsing from Claire’s body.

  Claire watched in shock, unable to move. The light pulsed from her skin, keeping her immobile, highlighting the horrific scene. The sorceress’s screams turned to gasps then groans, then finally ceased altogether. Her blackened body slumped to the ground, and the fire ate up what was left until all that remained was a pile of ash.

  The light went out, and, dazed, Claire dropped to her knees.

  Chains echoed somewhere above, followed by the pounding of footsteps, but Claire was too exhausted to move.

  “Claire! Holy Allah…”

  She recognized hands against her shoulders, the softness of skin against her own, of the heat of another next to her as she was pulled close.

  “Claire, Claire… Please, talk to me.”

  Fingertips brushed the hair away from her face. Water droplets hit her cheek. She turned her head and blinked several times to look up into Ashur’s worried face. Rain ran in rivulets down his cheeks, and his dark hair dripped across his bare shoulders. He held her in his lap as if she were precious. As if she were his. Her heart—the heart he had awoken—warmed to him all over again. “It’s…still raining.”

  Relief rushed over his features. He closed his eyes. “It never stopped. Allah, I thought that was it.” He opened his eyes, but instead of soft and concerned, this time they were hard and focused. “How did you get here? What the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed.”

  The anger she heard in his voice with the last statement jolted her out of the haze she’d slid into. She tried to sit up but he held her too tightly. “Nasir and Tariq… They helped me. They said I was the only one who could find you.”

  “Nasir?” He looked up to where his brother was still restrained to that pole. “Shit.”

  Gently, he set her on the ground, then scrambled for Nasir, unhooking his arms and lowering him to the ground. The two exchanged quiet words, but Nasir seemed dazed. A little of Claire’s anxiety eased. Nasir was okay. He was alive. He—

  Sand crunched, and feet stopped next to her. Ashur’s hand closed over her arm and drew her up. “Allah, I want answers. Why are you here?”

  She couldn’t read his expression. Was he angry? Frustrated? Relieved? She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she suddenly needed space. Pushing out of his arms, she stepped back. Around them, smoke and steam rose from the fires Zoraida had started. From the one Claire had ignited. “Would you rather I hadn’t come? You’d be dead now.”

  He raked a hand through his dripping hair. “I’d rather you were safe. How did you get here?”

  “Nasir gave me his powers.”

  “He gave them to you? Just like that?” His gaze flicked to the opal around her neck. The one she’d used to find him.

  And suddenly, the frustration in his voice made sense. He thought she’d stolen Nasir’s powers. That she’d been the reason Zoraida had called Nasir back. Unease turned to a gut-wrenching disappointment she felt everywhere. Had she thought there might be some kind of happily ever after with him as Zoraida had mocked? Yeah, she had. Even though she hadn’t admitted it out loud, she was a fool to think he might want her. One incredible night did not mean there was any kind of future for them. She was still celestial, and he was still djinn.

  She had to look away from Ashur. Couldn’t face the disappointment in his eyes. Her gaze flicked toward Zoraida’s remains. And the fire opal that now sparkled amongst the ashes.

  It was there. Just like the one around her neck. Power pulsed from both. Called to her. Begging her to move forward. To reach out. To take. Ashur’s anger su
ddenly seemed unimportant. With Nasir’s powers, her own and the opals, she’d be stronger than anyone. Stronger than Ashur. Stronger than the sorceress. Stronger even than the High Seven.

  Power had never been her goal. But now, faced with it, her pulse hummed and her fingers ached to reach out, to take what was being offered. To claim. She could make Ashur hers without his consent. It didn’t matter if he loved her or not. She could still have exactly what she wanted. That and so much more.

  “Claire?”

  Ashur looked from the opal on the ground, then back to her. His voice held a note of concern, but all she could focus on was the opal. Two distinct choices spun out in front of Claire. Two very different paths. One toward her celestial life, enlightening but not her own, the other toward power and every pleasure her heart had ever desired.

  Her feet moved forward.

  “Claire,” he said again in a wary voice. “Claire, what are you doing?”

  “What I was meant to do,” she answered. Her eyes widened and glowed as she looked down at the firebrand opal in the ashes at her feet. “Everything I was born to do.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Light pulsed all around Claire. Her body swirled. She gasped. Felt like she was being tossed on an angry sea. And then everything stilled.

  She pried her eyes open, then held up a hand to block the bright glare blinding her tired eyes.

  “We’ve been waiting for you, Claire.”

  She blinked twice. Recognized the voice. Realized she was home, not back in the human realm, where she’d intended to go when she’d walked away from Ashur and the opal. “S—Sura?”

  Her friend chuckled and sat on a bench in front of her. She was in some kind of park. Everything—the grass, the trees, the bushes and flowers—were bathed in white, giving the entire space a calm, peaceful, content feeling. “You passed.”

  “Passed?” Claire repeated, still trying to adjust to brightness. She’s forgotten how consuming the light could be. How warm. How perfect. She’d been away from it so long.

  “I lied to you, Claire.” Sura pushed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Our emotions aren’t stored in the firebrand opals.”

  Claire’s brow wrinkled. “I don’t understand.”

  Sura smiled. “It’s easy if you think about it. You see, you’d been in the human realm long enough, but you hadn’t made a conscious decision for good or evil. The High Seven decided it was time to tempt you.”

  Claire’s mind spun. Tempt her? They couldn’t. Not one of their own. Could they?

  Her gaze snapped to Sura’s peaceful face. “So you lied to me? On purpose?”

  “I had to. It was your test. And you passed. You gave up power and pleasure for love. You chose the harder path. You did what Zoraida couldn’t. And for that, the High Seven have decided to offer you a choice.”

  Claire was still having trouble comprehending what Sura was telling her. “What kind of choice?”

  “One a thousand times tougher than the one you just made.” Sura smiled and held out her hand. And though she couldn’t explain why, Claire eyed her friend’s palm, unsure if she should take it. Afraid if she did, she’d never see Ashur again.

  “Come, Claire. And I promise everything will be explained to you. In a moment, you’ll no longer worry about what you just gave up.”

  * * *

  Ashur’s head was in a fog.

  He stood in the grand ballroom in the castle in Gannah, greeting senators, thanking lords and ladies for their well-wishes and congratulations, doing everything that was expected of him as second in line to the throne, but his mind was elsewhere. His heart…his heart a hard ball beneath his ribs.

  “Yes, yes,” his father boasted at his side to a senator whose name Ashur couldn’t even remember. “We’re all so thankful to have him home.”

  “It’s a miracle,” the senator said.

  “No miracle,” his father answered. “I always knew Ashur was destined for greatness.” He turned his bright gaze in Ashur’s direction. “Savior of not only our kingdom, but our realm as well. The sorceress’s armies have scattered to the wind. Thanks to Ashur, this war will soon be over.”

  Ashur’s stomach turned as it did every time his father praised him for defeating Zoraida. The djinni refused to believe what Ashur had told him. That an angel had saved their race, not him. An angel who’d disappeared before he could tell her how thankful he was that she’d come after him. How relieved he was that she hadn’t been hurt. How confused he was over her actions.

  He caught Nasir’s gaze across the room. Dressed in his formal military uniform, standing proud above the masses as he shook hands of those who’d been at the celebration welcoming the brothers home and with Kavin in a pale pink gown at his side, Nasir looked every bit the king he would one day become. Ashur’s stomach churned again, and he swallowed hard.

  He needed air. Needed a break from the festivities and people. He needed quiet. Needed…light.

  He excused himself from the receiving line, and though his mother called out to him in a worried voice, he ignored her and headed for the doors on the far side of the room.

  Warmth washed over his face. He closed his eyes while the doors clapped shut at his back. Breathed in the salty sea air. Behind closed eyelids, he could see the light. Feel it beating down on him. Heating his skin. Easing the ache inside. Allah, how he’d missed the light all those months locked in Zoraida’s prison. He’d had a taste of it with Claire. Just enough to make him crave more.

  “Stifling, isn’t it?”

  His eyes popped open at the sound of Tariq’s voice to his right. He looked that way, surprised that of all people, it was his eldest brother who’d followed him out.

  Since he’d abdicated the throne and chosen to live in the human realm with Mira, he wasn’t dressed in a military uniform like Ashur and Nasir. His black slacks and jacket were nice, but amongst the elite in the castle, they signified him as nothing more than a commoner.

  Ashur leaned against the railing and looked out at the hazy city below and the sea that disappeared in the horizon. “You could say that.”

  They’d barely spoken since Ashur’s return. So much had happened between them that Ashur didn’t know where to start. And because this celebration was the first time Tariq had visited from the human realm since Ashur had been back, they hadn’t had the opportunity.

  Tariq leaned next to him. “Nasir will make a good king. The people love him. And did you see the way they’ve taken to Kavin? Even Father’s enraptured by her.”

  Ashur watched a gull swoop over the city. That had been the biggest shock of all for him since he’d been home. Their father, who claimed no race was equal to the Marid, was Kavin’s biggest fan. “It’s because she’s gorgeous. He’s always had a soft spot for the pretty ones.”

  Tariq smiled. “Who would have ever thought it? A Ghul will soon be queen.”

  Not Ashur. Never Ashur. But then, if someone had told him an angel would save their kingdom from the horrors of war, he’d have laughed in their face.

  That hard ball beneath his ribs seemed to grow in size, but he ignored it. “Will you miss it?”

  “The ceremonies and duties and never having a moment to myself? Not a bit.”

  Ashur glanced toward his brother. Tariq meant it. “But you love this kingdom. You always have.”

  Tariq rested his foot against the bottom railing, his gaze scanning the city. “I still do. But my heart isn’t here. And to be a just king, you have to rule with everything. Including your heart. Mine lies in the human world. It always will. I think part of me knew that before. It was why I was so restless. Why I couldn’t commit to my duties when Father wanted. I’m not meant to be here, Ashur.”

  Slowly, Ashur looked back toward the spires of the city, but his pulse sped up. And that hard ball beneath his ribs warmed. Was he meant to be here? He wasn’t sure. He felt lost. Nothing gave him pleasure—not seeing his home or being with his family and friends. He felt like a part of himself
was missing. And every time he thought of Claire, he couldn’t help but wonder if her light was what he was missing.

  “You’re losing it, aren’t you?” he asked, more to distract himself from his thoughts than to hear Tariq’s answer. “Your powers? You won’t be able to cross here much longer, will you? And even that doesn’t change your mind?”

  “To love another is to see the face of Allah. Once you’ve seen that, how can you go back to the way things were before?” Tariq shook his head. “Father might not agree with my decision, but Mother knows I’d never make a good king now. Not without my heart. And without that, Ashur, we’re nothing. Without that, we’re as cold and dark as Zoraida. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to end up like her. Power, fame, glory… They mean nothing to me. Not anymore.”

  Ashur’s heart beat hard, so hard he was surprised Tariq couldn’t hear it. He’d wanted those things before. Power, fame, to be recognized as not just equal but better than his brothers. It was why he’d gone after them both when they’d disappeared. Not simply to rescue them but so that he could be the one hailed hero. So he could have the glory. So a day like this—when the entire kingdom was singing his praises—could happen, and everyone would finally realize his worth.

  Only now that it was here, it was meaningless. What did those things matter? He wasn’t the savior everyone thought him to be. He was a fraud. He had needed saving. Not just physically from Zoraida’s hell but emotionally from his own. By an angel who’d poofed out of his life before he could stop her. Before he could tell her what she meant to him. Before he’d realized it himself. And now she was gone for good.

  “She went back.”

  Ashur and Tariq both looked toward the end of the veranda where Nasir stood, the medals on his uniform glinting under the afternoon sun.

  “Who?” Ashur asked.

  “Claire,” Tariq said at his side, turning back to Ashur.

  Ashur’s gaze jumped to Tariq, and his brow lowered. “What do you mean?”

  Nasir moved up on Ashur’s other side. “When she left us at the mountain, the High Seven drew her back to the celestial realm. But they gave her a choice. To return to her life before the banishment or to go back to the human realm.”