The Jackal Prince

by Rebecca Goings

  Siraj’s servants made their way in and out of his carav, either setting a tray of food before her, or a new robe. Or more desserts. Or perhaps more water? What about jewelry? Siraj himself had disappeared after calling his servants to attend her. It was evening before he returned.

  Yasmin felt awkward dressing in his carav, but his servants had insisted, and soon, she had been cleansed, clothed, fed, and her hair brushed until it shone.

  Sometime later, Siraj entered once more, but not before knocking to tell his servants he’d returned. They nodded at him and left one by one, without him having to command them.

  Behind him, another man chuckled as he, too, stepped in to the carriage. Both of them stopped and stared at their first look at Yasmin.

  She fidgeted before them, biting her lip and playing with her hair. She’d never been dressed in such finery. It embarrassed her. She shouldn’t have let Siraj’s servants fawn over her so. The gold of his people shimmered on her, as if the garment itself had been spun from the precious metal.

  “She is beautiful,” the strange man said. Glancing at him, Yasmin gasped. Aside from a few differences here and there, he looked almost like Siraj, as if he was his…

  “Yasmin,” Siraj said, interrupting her thoughts. “This is my brother, Yasir Pramtash. You shall be staying as a guest in his carav, along with his wife Barika.”

  She furrowed her brow. The Jackal must have anticipated the question she wanted to ask.

  “Yasir is not born of my mother, the Jackal Princess. Therefore, he is not in line for the throne. However, as the son of my father, he has been given the honorary title of prince. He is well-respected in my caravan.”

  “You have…given me too much, Highness,” she said. “My stomach is full beyond imagining—I’ve eaten enough food to fill myself for an entire week! And these robes, they are too lovely. I never asked to stay with your brother. A tent will do.”

  Siraj scoffed. “Nonsense. You deserve it all. Saving the life of a mere prince is worthy of high praise. Saving the life of a reigning prince, well, there is nothing I could give you that could ever repay what you have done.”

  Yasmin turned away. She had to. It was almost too much to bear, having two handsome men gaze at her so. She’d always known her eyes were unique, but she’d done her best to hide herself most of her life. When people found out she could wield powerful magic, she was ostracized. Being so openly admired was not only foreign, but painfully uncomfortable.

  “Give me a moment?” Apparently, Siraj had been talking to his brother. The door of the carav shut quietly behind Yasir.

  “Are you all right?” Siraj’s voice was closer. She shivered at its deep timbre. She remembered how he’d sounded as a boy. Now, however, the Jackal Prince was very much a man.

  “I am not used to such attention, Highness,” she murmured over her shoulder.

  “Surely a woman as beautiful as you has had her fair share of attention.”

  “Not in the way you suggest,” she told him. “I used to rub mud on my face to hide myself. I keep my eyes downcast so no one can see me. My looks have gotten a few rocks thrown at me.”

  Siraj’s hands were on her shoulders in an instant. He spun her to face him, and his features were hard. “People threw rocks at you?”

  Yasmin nodded, gazing at his chest. “When I was younger, I would cast my magic without a care. I thought everyone could…do what I do.”

  “Go on,” he said when she’d stopped.

  “But I soon learned the depth of people’s hatred for things they do not understand. My eyes are so recognizable, I soon became known by them. Before I came to you, I had to hide behind the water barrels near a goat merchant’s tent. And unfortunately, changing my eye color or my looks is not something I can do. I can shift into a bird. But I cannot change the way I look, no matter how much I wish it.”

  The Jackal hooked his finger under her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. Yasmin flinched and tried to look away, but he stopped her. “I do not wish you to change the way you look. You are a beautiful woman, Yasmin.”

  She bit her lip. “Please don’t tell your caravan what I can do,” she whispered. “I saved your life, can you leave it at that?”

  Her entire body trembled and she couldn’t help the moisture in her eyes. If Siraj’s people knew what she was capable of, they might not be so welcoming of her. They might even throw a few rocks of their own.

  As if mirroring her thoughts, Siraj said, “If any one of my people dare to harm you, they will feel my wrath, make no mistake.”

  “I just want to be normal.”

  Siraj’s eyes softened. “As long as you ride my caravan, you shall be safe. I will treat you no differently than I do already. I am your friend, Yasmin, and I will always respect you.”

  Her chin wavered, but she managed not to sob in front of him. “Thank you, Jackal.”

  “You can thank me by calling me Siraj.”

  He cocked his head when she remained silent. Yasmin closed her eyes and sighed. “Thank you, Siraj.”

  “There now,” he said, his tone teasing her. “Was that so hard?”

  ~ * ~

  Yasmin was an enigma. Siraj glanced around his now-empty carav and sighed deeply. Her scent surrounded him. He tried to keep thoughts of her cleansing and dressing where he slept out of his mind, but he wasn’t too successful.

  She’d left with his brother, on her way to Yasir’s carriage as a guest of the Jackal. But it was possible Yasmin would be in his caravan for much longer than either of them anticipated. Would she need her own carav? Would she decide to stay and live with his people?

  The idea appealed to him. As he undressed himself for sleep, he glanced down at the scar he bore on his belly. The Cobra Prince had run him through with his sword on the dunes in a pitiful attempt to regain the favor of his god. But in so doing, the Cobra only managed to anger every god in the desert, and they had exacted their revenge. Now, the Cobra Prince’s line had died out, his oasis dried up, and his caravan disbursed.

  Where once there were six, now only five princes remained in the Golden Desert.

  Siraj closed his eyes and remembered that day so long ago, when he’d lain in the sand and prayed to his god for deliverance. He’d heard a voice in his head to look for the falcon. Of course, he’d assumed the voice meant the Falcon Prince, but no. The voice had meant Yasmin, and the falcon she could become.

  She’d found him alone and bleeding, and healed him with her gentle magic. He’d clutched onto her hand for dear life, clinging to her as if he would fall off a precipice if he let go. Even now he remembered the tears he’d shed, not just for his pain or how he’d been healed, but for the fact Yasmin had left him. She’d left him and he’d had no idea if or when he’d ever see her again.

  Now she was here, in his caravan, desperate enough to join him in the desert to escape the ghosts haunting her.

  Siraj leaned back on his pillows and doused his lamps with his magic. In the dark, his thoughts ran away with him. It would seem they were connected, he and Yasmin. At least, that’s what he believed.

  He’d once heard a voice on the dunes telling him to look for her. She’d heard a voice just today telling her to run to him. Perhaps it hadn’t been coincidence that she’d heard Khalil’s call to his falcons as a child. Perhaps it hadn’t been coincidence Siraj had felt a strong urge to deliver water to Neviann just a few weeks ago.

  No, this was definitely the work of the god of Jackals, bringing them together for a purpose. But what purpose would that be?

  Siraj groaned. He knew what purpose he wanted her to serve. Over the years, he’d been hard-pressed to think on any other woman. His thoughts, his memories, his dreams, had revolved around Yasmin, and what she might be like if he found her as a woman. He’d had a few lovers here and there, some even provided by his fellow princes—to learn how to better serve his future princess, they’d said.

  Siraj had to smile. His friends were only looking out for him. He knew
good and well they each regarded him as a younger brother, someone to protect and mentor. But he was a grown man now, plenty capable of finding his own women.

  And it was no secret among the princes that he often wondered if his god had set aside Yasmin for his princess. A theory that Qadir, the Scarab, had frequently scoffed at. Siraj had only met this girl once, randomly in the desert when he was delirious and in pain. There had been no heavenly match-making. It was a chance encounter, nothing more.

  But Qadir didn’t understand. None of them did. Siraj wasn’t merely attracted to her because of her beauty or obsessed with her because she’d healed him. He felt a connection, a pulling, a driving force that almost demanded them together.

  What else was he to conclude but that his god wanted her with him?

  Siraj whispered in the dark. “Is Yasmin the woman you have chosen for my princess?” There was no answer. Not even the moons were out tonight to comfort him.

  All Siraj could do was wonder to himself as he tossed and turned.

  Three

  A loud banging woke Siraj from a sound sleep. Had he been dreaming? He lay there for a moment and listened. No, there it was again, harder this time, coming from his door.

  “Jackal!” That was Yasmin’s muffled voice. “Siraj, please, open the door!”

  The banging continued as he sprang from his pillows.

  “Help me!”

  He didn’t bother donning his robes before striding to the door and opening it wide.

  “Yasmin, what in the name of the gods—?”

  Before he’d finished his sentence, she was up the steps and in his arms. “Close the door. Close it, now!”

  He obeyed her and locked it for good measure. His heart pounded in his chest and his breath came in short, sharp pants. Yasmin’s own fear seemed to leak into him.

  Without warning, his entire carav rocked from side to side as something shrieked outside. A harsh wind blew sand against the walls, sending shards of dust into the air, seeping through the slats on the wall. Thankfully, the golden silks draping his carav kept them from inhaling it.

  “What was that?” Siraj yelled. He glanced all around his carav. Holding Yasmin behind him, he strode to his sword, propped in the corner, and unsheathed it. The glow of steel lit the room, even in the absence of the moons. The rearing jackal of his caravan was etched into the blade.

  With one more shriek, whatever had been outside retreated, howling into the distance.

  Siraj didn’t move. He didn’t dare breathe. By the ancestors, what had been outside his door? He held his sword aloft, still unconvinced that whatever had been chasing Yasmin had vanished. No screams lifted from his people. Perhaps they were safe. But he needed to make sure.

  “Stay here,” he commanded before walking the length of his carav.

  “No!” Yasmin ran ahead of him and plastered herself against his door. “Do not go out there.”

  “Whatever was chasing you is a threat to my caravan. I must find it and kill it.”

  “No,” she said again, this time shaking her head. Yasmin’s chest rose and fell while her hair was wild in disarray. Gods, but she was beautiful. “You cannot fight what is out there, Jackal,” she told him, her voice finally finding some semblance of calm.

  “Do you know what it is?” he asked.

  “That is…” She stopped when her breathing hitched. “That is what has been chasing me, Highness. It’s never been so close before.”

  “I thought you were safe. Once I gave you my protection!”

  “I am safe,” she countered. “In…in here. It couldn’t follow me into your carav. It couldn’t touch me.”

  Siraj leveled his gaze at her and took her in from head to toe. She was in a thin robe, probably bedclothes his sister-in-law had given her. Her feet were bare and her eyes tired.

  “What happened?” he asked, turning to grab his sword’s sheath from the floor.

  “I had a dream.”

  “You had a dream?” He faced her once again.

  Yasmin nodded and looked away. “I was running and the voices in my head were chasing me. I had nowhere to go. The voices, they began shouting. They woke me. My entire body was trembling and I couldn’t stop. Even in Yasir’s carav I was terrified. That’s when I heard the shriek from my dreams over Neviann and I did the only thing I could think to do. I ran to you.”

  Siraj was too shocked to do anything more than stand there, dumbfounded. Yasmin continued.

  “I didn’t think it could find me in your caravan. But it has. Gods, I am so scared!”

  Yasmin covered her mouth a second before she released a sob, falling back against the wall and sliding down to the floor. Siraj tossed his sword and knelt next to her.

  “It’s going to kill me,” she moaned, hiding her face in her hands.

  With his fingers, he tucked her unruly hair behind her left ear. She lifted her tearstained face, her breathing still ragged.

  “Whatever is out there, Yasmin, I give you my word as the Jackal Prince it will have to come through me to get to you.”

  She sobbed once more, again throwing herself into his arms.

  ~ * ~

  Yasmin tried hard to quell her tears. It took a few minutes to compose herself, but she finally managed to control her breathing, clutching onto Siraj for dear life.

  She hadn’t thought she’d be able to make it to his carav before that thing caught her. Thankfully he’d opened his door in time, and the spirit hadn’t been able to enter. She shuddered. If Siraj hadn’t let her in…

  She wasn’t going to think about it. Right now, she concentrated on the warmth of the Jackal’s arms around her. The clean scent of his skin. The way his head tilted against hers, as if to keep her close.

  Yasmin’s arms tightened around his neck. Her fear slowly melted away. In its place now was something new, something different. She didn’t want to leave the shelter of Siraj’s embrace. She shouldn’t have touched him without his permission, but her terror had overridden her common sense.

  Now that she held him close, she didn’t want to let him go.

  “Are you all right?” His voice, so low and soft, sent a shiver down her spine.

  “I am now,” she whispered, tucking her face into his neck. She would have pulled away the instant his arms loosened, but he seemed inclined to hold her just as she held him.

  Siraj stroked her hair. It felt so good. The way his fingers made trails through it and brushed at her tangles had her own fingers threading through the hair at his nape.

  “You are cold,” he said, his hot breath scorching her ear.

  “You are warm,” she countered. As much as he claimed he’d thought of her over the years, she’d thought of him as well. Of what kind of leader he’d become, of where he was—and if he’d found his princess.

  Thank the gods he hadn’t. A swift wave of possessiveness crashed through her. Yasmin silently scoffed at herself. Just because she’d healed him so long ago did not mean she had a claim on him.

  But he’d vowed to protect her and keep her safe. Yasmin had to wonder how she’d managed to live the past ten cycles without him.

  “Yasmin,” he said.

  She finally pulled away. “I am sorry,” she replied, keeping her gaze averted. “I did not mean to pounce on you.”

  “You were scared.” After a moment of silence, he didn’t move away. “Why do you hide your eyes from me?”

  Her face flushed with shame. She was thankful for the darkness. “Habit, I suppose,” she answered.

  Siraj brought her face level with his. “Don’t. I love your eyes. I wish to look into them often.”

  Her small gasp had him smiling. Yasmin was mesmerized. Never had she seen a man more beautiful.

  “You…you…” She swallowed hard. “You are not properly dressed, Highness.”

  He glanced down at his bare chest. “I suppose I’m not,” he said, making no move to cover himself. “Does it bother you?”

  She shook her head vigorously then l
ooked away. Once again, he cupped her cheek, forcing her eye contact.

  “Don’t,” he whispered.

  “It is hard, looking at you.”

  “Why?”

  Yasmin bit her lip. “I have spent my life trying not to bring attention to myself.”

  Siraj shook his head. “There is nothing you could do that would make me look the other way.”

  Her heart slammed to life. His palm was still on her cheek, and she was acutely aware of it when he swiped his thumb across her lower lip.

  “You barely know anything about me,” she answered.

  “Then tell me.”

  She stared at him for a few silent moments. “I should go back to Yasir’s carav.”

  Siraj’s countenance hardened. “You’re not leaving.”

  “But—”

  “I will not send you out there with that…that thing.”

  “Your entire caravan is at risk, Jackal. I should leave you. I shouldn’t have come to you at all.”

  Siraj growled an instant before his face hovered right before hers. If she leaned forward just a bit, she’d be able to kiss him. His soft, warm breath flitted across her cheek.

  “Yasmin, you are not leaving,” he said again, this time with more force. “It seems I am the only one who can protect you from whatever it is that’s chasing you. I will not send you on your way. You were obviously not safe in Yasir’s carav. And that…spirit couldn’t enter my carriage. I am the steward of the god of Jackals, and with my position comes the favor of my deity. You are safe with me. More so than you have ever been. Therefore, you will stay with me. In my carav.”

  “But—”

  He put his finger on her lips. “It is decided, woman,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin. “Unless you wish to argue with the Jackal Prince?”

  When Siraj looked at her like that, all predatory and sensual, he took her breath away. She couldn’t do much more than shake her head. The thought of staying with him, in his private quarters, both thrilled and frightened her.