by Emma Hamm
The doors to his chambers opened. The telltale swish of fabric heralded the arrival of his advisor and wife.
Nadir tried to hide the reaction that shook his shoulders. “Saafiya, has the second wife arrived from her travels?”
“Is that all you have to say to me, husband? I remember a time when we were much closer. Now you spend your time worrying about another woman.”
He sent a silent prayer for assistance to the gods, then turned.
Red fabric hung from her shoulders, sliding across her curves and parting to reveal caramel skin with each movement. She was stunning no matter how much she aged. Golden chains arched from her nose to ear, capped her shoulders, and slid between her breasts to anchor at her navel.
Not even a few months ago, he would have fallen to his knees to worship her. She was goddess made flesh, a creature that even the most ancient of beings would wish to sample.
Now, he couldn’t tell if he wanted to savor her or identify her most poisonous part.
“Leave,” he said firmly. “I have no need of you tonight.”
“You always have need of me. You just don’t know it yet.”
She sauntered towards him, all hips and flashing skin, and he could remember the time when he had fallen completely and utterly in love with her. She had been his entire childhood fantasy, given to him on a golden platter.
Saafiya walked her fingers across his shoulders. “You’ve been lost, Sultan. I’ve seen you wandering the halls at night. You aren’t yourself.”
He shrugged her off. “My mind has been busy. And rightfully so. A kingdom is difficult to run.”
“You have your advisors. We’re here to lessen this burden.”
“And yet, the ultimate responsibility falls upon my shoulders. I’m the Sultan of Bymere.”
He wanted her to remember that. He wanted all of them to remember since it was clear they thought the kingdom was at their feet simply because they had his ear.
She smiled. “Of course it does, my husband.”
Gods, how he hated that tone. She’d used it when he was just a child as well, and only when she wanted something from him. If only Raheem were here to scare the witch way.
“I have much to think about tonight,” he advised. “I don’t have time to entertain you.”
“Rest easy, Sultan. I’m not here to distract you.” She laid herself across the red silk pillows of his bed and dragged one of the gauzy curtains over her legs. “You may continue thinking.”
“You shouldn’t be here, Saafiya.”
“And why not? You’re my husband, too. Or have you forgotten that?”
“I have not forgotten.” How could he? She was everywhere he looked, regardless of her physical presence. Saafiya had made a mark on the Red Palace that would last for years.
The carvings on every column, the flowers laid out in the halls, even the stained-glass windows were her doing. She’d taken a male’s kingdom and made it better. For all that he didn’t like her meddling, he would admit that this place had become a home.
Saafiya rolled onto her side, framing her hip with her hand. “I don’t mean to alarm you, husband, but your new wife isn’t fitting in all that well.”
“I thought you weren’t going to distract me.”
“Don’t you want to think about your wives as well? She is a dangerous new addition to our home, and I would hate for her to catch you unaware.”
“Unaware?” he scoffed. “She’s not particularly hard to track. The woman doesn’t lie. I’ve asked her many an uncomfortable question, and she has always answered without hesitation.”
“And yet, she is already sowing seeds of disgust among your people. They aren’t comfortable with an animal ruling them. And they never will be.”
He turned on his heel and stalked to his desk. His hands curled into fists, and he reminded himself that she was only telling the truth. Saafiya meant no harm from the words. She said what she believed, what the entirety of his kingdom believed, and he had to live with that.
Still, it stung more than it would have months ago.
Nadir sat down at his desk and cradled his head in his hands. “What would you have me do, Saafiya?”
“Teach her our ways. Show her that there is more than just remaining rigid as a board. Women are supposed to be like the rivers our home lacks. We are supple, we react to change, and we remind all others that there is beauty left in the world.”
“Does she not do that?” He certainly thought she did. It wasn’t the flowing beauty of Bymerian women, although he’d always appreciated them for their fluidity. Sigrid was like a mountain. She could not be moved, but there was a beauty that made others flock to her.
Saafiya snorted. “No, husband. She does exactly the opposite of that. It’s making the concubines uncomfortable.”
“Everything makes the concubines uncomfortable.”
“Nadir,” she scolded, leveling him with a look. “They’re just as important to you as your wives.”
“I never said they weren’t. However, even you can admit that they’ve been less than welcoming to our newest addition. I’d suggest that they may be following in your footsteps.”
He lifted his head and had the satisfying victory of seeing her stiffen. Saafiya never gave him enough credit. For all that Nadir had fallen under her spell, he’d seen it the entire time. She didn’t have him on puppet strings as firmly as she thought.
“I see no reason to reach out a friendly hand to someone who hasn’t done the same for me,” she replied with a sniff.
“I don’t think Sigrid is the kind of person to reach out to anyone.”
“She has to you.”
She had. It was something Nadir was infinitely proud of. Sigrid was a strange anomaly and she had somehow chosen him to confide in, to trust, to show the most hidden part of herself that he could have used to his own advantage.
But why? He didn’t have an answer, although he fully intended to ask her. She’d suddenly trusted him because he had proven to be the same as her. He hoped she wasn’t so foolish that she would trust any person simply because they were Beastkin as well.
Saafiya lifted an arm. Gold bangles jangled down her wrist, and she pushed them up again, only to let them fall. She repeated it, allowing the strange music to fill the room. “Why is that, you think?” she asked.
“Why is what, Saafiya?”
“She’s opened up to you, of all people, and won’t even speak to the other women.”
“Of all people?” he repeated, slightly insulted. “Why is it surprising that she should wish to speak with her husband?”
“Because she was an unwilling wife.” Saafiya’s gaze met his, and he saw something he’d never seen in her gaze before. Understanding. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that she might be playing you?”
“She isn’t capable of that kind of deceit,” he scoffed. A worm of doubt wiggled in his chest. Could she? Sigrid didn’t seem like the kind of creature who could look at a man and lie outright to his face. But she had professed to being willing to do anything for her people, had even asked him to reveal that he too was a Beastkin.
Could she have been playing him this entire time? Did she have it in her?
Saafiya slithered off the edge of the bed and strode towards him on long legs. “My dear, every woman is capable of deceit. We are poisonous creatures at heart, and lies come naturally to us. Find me a woman who doesn’t lie, and I shall proclaim her an angel.”
She walked around his desk. The filmy material hanging off her shoulders trailed along the wooden edge as she reached for him. Her fingers toyed with the curls of his hair, then dragged him closer to her.
“Haven’t you given it thought, husband? Your new wife is alone here. No other Earthen folk grace these halls other than her silent maidservant. It stands to reason that she might try to grasp at whatever power we allow her.”
Nadir took a deep, calming breath. “She has power, Saafiya. She is the Sultana of Bymere.”
“S
he is an animal.” Saafiya’s voice burned with acidic hatred. “She’s sultana by name only, but that does not make her a ruler, nor will it make our people follow her. It hurts my heart to even think that you cannot see the darkness she is breeding here in Bymere.”
“What darkness?” He pulled away from her hand and stood abruptly. “What has she done that is so terrifying to you? She’s kept to herself, she rarely speaks with our people, how could she possibly be doing anything dangerous?”
“Mark my words, boy king, she intends to incite an uprising and we must stop her.”
“I don’t worry about any darkness she might spread,” he quietly replied. “I worry about what is already festering inside of you.”
He felt immense pleasure when she gasped and stepped away from him. Saafiya narrowed her eyes. “You know I always have the kingdom’s best interests at heart.”
“I know you always have your own interests at the forefront.”
“Every decision I make is for the betterment of our kingdom. How dare you suggest anything other than that,” she hissed. Saafiya lifted a hand as if she might strike him, then lowered it when she saw his answering frown. “I should have known you weren’t man enough to make the right choices.”
“The right choice is to leave her be, Saafiya.”
She glared. “You know nothing. You are a child seated on a throne that was never meant for you and have become spoiled. Count yourself lucky that an entire panel of advisors helps you make decisions that have allowed this country prosper.”
Anger burned hot in his chest. How dare she? She waltzed into his private quarters, uninvited, then insulted him like this? Certainly, he hadn’t been an entirely active sultan, but he’d made good suggestions that they continually shot down. His entire sultanate was afraid of change. That ended now.
“Tread carefully, wife,” he growled. “You might walk into quicksand.”
“Am I supposed to be frightened of you, husband? Shall you strike me down where I stand? Then do it.” She stood before him proud with her chin lifted. “Show Bymere what the sultan does with people who follow the ancient traditions, who know the value of old Bymere. Let them see what their sultan does with his revered first wife when she tries to protect them from a monster in their midst.”
His hands shook with the desire to do just that. Saafiya had overstepped so many bounds that he didn’t know where to begin in her punishment. What would his brother have suggested he do? Likely, hang her by the toes. But that would also suggest to his people that he was siding with the Beastkin. If he didn’t punish her, then Sigrid’s life might get infinitely worse.
Nadir didn’t know what to do or how to react. Instead of making a choice, he hesitated.
She laughed. “That’s what I thought. It’s a good thing I’ve made the decision for you, dear husband. Otherwise, nothing would get done in this kingdom.”
He froze at her words. “What have you done?”
She sashayed away from him, her hips swinging in tune to the trickling sounds of water. “What you have been afraid to do since she arrived here.”
“Any harm upon her is an act of war,” he reminded her.
“War with Wildewyn is imminent. It’s just a matter of who starts it.”
It took a moment for the words to hit him.
“What did you do?” he growled.
“She said she was a warrior. Let her try and fight her way back into the city then. If she makes it, then she can stay. I won’t bother her any further, husband. If she doesn’t—” Saafiya lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug “—then she was lying about more than just her abilities.”
Every thought disappeared from his head. His body moved without thought or reason, even as anger flowed through his veins until he feared the dragon would burst free. He’d never been this close to losing control, even when Hakim died. The poison had been an unknown assailant, until later when they discovered what had killed him.
Saafiya knew what she had done. She had willingly attacked another sultana, his own wife, and then acted as though it hadn’t happened? Or that it didn’t matter?
Nadir only awoke from his anger-hazed madness for a moment when he walked his first wife back against the wall. He was so much larger than her, but he’d never realized it, because she overpowered a room with her personality. Looming over her, his nostrils flared in anger, he realized that even now she didn’t think he would hurt her.
She stared back at him with just as much rage in her eyes, her fists balled. “Your people will never trust an animal seated on the throne, and they will not suffer a weak sultan.”
“If she dies, then so do you.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
He slipped away from her and out the doors of his private chambers. Once in the public halls, he shouted, “A sultan has no need for a wife, Saafiya. It’s by choice that I keep you!”
And then he was running. Every footstep thudded against the sandstone floors, and he prayed to every god that he wouldn’t be too late. She was a warrior. He’d seen her fight before. Surely, she could keep back a few assassins.
He didn’t know how many Saafiya had sent. She wasn’t a foolish woman by any means.
Racing by a group of his guards, he shouted for them to get his horse. He took the long way to the courtyard only to stop by the armory where he snatched a scimitar that had recently been sharpened. The blade gleamed in the afternoon sunlight.
“Sultan!” Raheem ran toward him from the back of the palace. “Are we under attack?”
“Of a sort.” He searched for a chestplate in the piles of armor laying around. Why weren’t they prepared for war? If Wildewyn attacked now, not a single man would be ready. A chestplate lay underneath a blanket on a bench, and he yanked it free. “Saafiya has sent assassins to attack Sigrid upon her return.”
“The girl can handle them.”
He looked up and met Raheem’s gaze. “She intends to kill her.”
The big man swallowed. Raheem knew how dire this situation was. He’d seen Sigrid fight, but he also knew how devious Saafiya could be. She wouldn’t have sent anyone but the best.
He might lose his wife.
“I’ll come with you,” Raheem replied.
“In anything else, I would ask to go alone, but today… Bring armor, Raheem. We may need it.”
“You wish to fight against your own assassins?” Raheem asked, but didn’t pause in his movements. His own armor, too large to be worn by anyone else, set on a stand where it waited. Well-oiled and supple, he pulled it on with ease.
“I won’t hesitate if that’s what it takes.”
He grew restless waiting. Every second was one that he wasted in catching up with the men. There was a chance that he might stop them, order them to return on penalty of death, and then he could meet Sigrid himself.
Why had the blasted woman chosen today to go into the deserts? He should never have agreed to let her go.
“Let’s go,” he growled, spinning on his heel and running to the courtyard where two horses waited. His faithful companion must have known Nadir would need a second man.
“What did Saafiya tell you?” Raheem asked, swinging a leg over his horse.
“Only that an animal should not sit on a throne, and if she could battle her way into the city then she could stay here.”
The words had struck home. What would any of them do if they realized that Nadir was also Beastkin? They’d take the throne, that was for certain, but he didn’t know what his own people would do. Some would likely feel the same disgust as Saafiya. Others might not. No one had ever asked the people of Bymere how they felt about the Beastkin. The royals had simply made the decision for them.
“Then we go this way.” Raheem wheeled his horse in the opposite direction from the front gates.
“If we hurry, we might catch them!”
“We’ll never catch up with them. But we can come up from behind and stop her from murdering them all. Think ahead, Nadir. I’m not worri
ed about her safety. The girl has a dragon heart.” Raheem paused at an alleyway entrance, staring at Nadir as if he’d lost his mind. “She’ll kill them all.”
How easy it was to forget his second wife wasn’t a damsel in distress. She could take care of herself. It was his own men he had to worry about. They waited for her at the front of the city, where everyone would watch as she was attacked.
So that was Saafiya’s plan all along. Kill his second wife if possible, or turn the entire populace of Bymere against her.
Cursing, he dug his heels into his horse’s side and fled down the alley towards the back entrance to the Red Palace. Their horses needed to be swift and agile to make it in time. He prayed they remained steady and true.
Every breath seemed as though he had already lost her. They didn’t hesitate for any of the people in the streets. Some jumped out of the way long before they were in danger. Others shouted at them and were knocked to the side.
Let his people think whatever they wanted. It was Nadir’s job to keep them safe, then that included his wayward wife who insisted upon her own freedom. He should have known better than to allow her that. Freedom was the root of all issues. Those who had it were careless with it. Those who didn’t, desired it above all else and would do anything to get it.
They burst through the back entrance to his home and hooves struck sand. His heart thundered in his chest in time with the roar of his dragon who wanted to break free. Let them see what happened when they threatened a dragon’s mate.
And she was his mate.
She was the only remaining female dragon in the world. His animal side had already claimed her as his, and they’d only met twice. It was cruel to take away that which he had only just found.
Breathing hard, he rounded the mountain they’d built the palace on and bent low over his horse’s neck when he saw the gates were already open and that Sigrid had arrived.
Raheem shouted, “tread carefully, boy,” from behind him.
He intended to tread as carelessly as he wanted to. His own men were attacking his wife.
The blurred smudge of bodies moved. Swords lifted into the air, sun reflecting off the blades until they were nearly blinding. A few of the assassins were lying on the ground, staining the golden sands red with blood. Were they dead? He didn’t care, but knew that he should. The peasants wouldn’t like seeing one of their own lying on the sands.
