The Rose & the Dagger (The Wrath and the Dawn #2) - Renee Ahdieh Page 0,50
him to look her in the eye. “I want a life with those I love around me, safe and happy. What do you want?”
“To live . . . fiercely.”
“What else?”
“To taste every breath.” Khalid skimmed a hand down her leg. A frisson of heat shot up her spine.
“What else?” Her voice shook.
“To fall asleep each night with you by my side.”
Shahrzad took his face between her palms.
“Then fight for it.”
His careful control shattered. Khalid stood suddenly, catching her to him.
“Will you go with me?” she gasped as his hands moved higher.
He nodded.
Then Khalid pulled her close and crushed his mouth to hers. His tongue edged past her lips, and she breathed his name while he strode toward the bed, pouring their bodies onto the dull silk.
She would never cease to be astounded by this—
The flawless awareness behind every look, every whisper, every sigh.
His words were a spark cast in oil. His touch was a fire against her skin.
Shahrzad tugged the length of linen over her head, and Khalid rose to his knees and removed his qamis. He glanced down at her—
Then everything stilled with an awful precipitousness.
His jaw flexed. His knuckles turned white.
He was furious.
Beyond furious.
His face was a lesson in rage. The quiet, all-consuming sort. It was at its worst when he was this quiet.
As Khalid stared down at her body, she realized why.
The bruises. The burn.
“Khalid—”
“Who did this to you?” His voice was soft. Deathly soft.
Its brutal assurance sent a shiver down her back.
Never forget: Khalid is not a forgiving man.
To him, violence begets violence. And likely always will.
“Don’t,” Shahrzad said gently. “Don’t ruin our time together with anger. I am not hurt. And these injuries are my own fault. Ones I would gladly take again and again, because they’ve made me stronger. They’ve led me to you.”
“Shahrzad—”
She reached up to trace the mark on his collarbone. The faint bruise along his jaw. Then she shifted her fingers to the newest cuts on his hands. To the gash across his palm that had not yet healed.
“I hate your scars, too,” Shahrzad murmured. “But skin is skin, be it a man’s or a woman’s. And pain is pain. Don’t lament mine more than I do yours. And trust that—if ever there comes a time when an injustice is done to me—you will be the first to know.” She pressed a kiss to his injured palm. “And I will stand by your side as we right it.”
Shahrzad took his hand and placed it on the wound on her stomach. “I promise it doesn’t hurt.” She grinned almost teasingly.
He frowned. “Liar.”
At that, Shahrzad pushed him onto his back.
Her hair scarving about her throat, she moved over Khalid. “I may be partial to roses, but I am not a fragile flower.”
“No.” Khalid’s mouth arced upward ever so slightly. “You are not.”
“Do you know why I adore roses?” Shahrzad untied the knot of his tikka sash with deliberate slowness. “I’ve always loved them for their beauty and their scent, but—”
“It’s because of their thorns.” His muscles tensed at her touch. “Because there’s more to them than first meets the eye.”
She smiled down at Khalid, tracing her fingers along the curved hollows at his hips. “Do you know how much I missed you?”
Khalid inhaled sharply. “I do.” He grazed a thumb across her lower lip. “And do you know you make my life a thousand times worth living?”
“Yes.” Her throat went dry. “I do.”
Khalid’s eyes fell upon the stretch of twine hanging from her neck. His fingers shifted to coil around the ring.
“I couldn’t wear it on my hand anymore,” Shahrzad explained. “But I didn’t want to—”
He pulled her toward him by the necklace, kissing her silent.
Their lips soon found a rhythm. And their bodies met, seeking the same.
Seeking a moment of perfect balance.
A moment that held everything.
And in that moment, they lost all consideration for anything beyond themselves. For in that moment, there was no pain. There were no scars. And a curse was a worry of a bygone era.
Here, the only thing that mattered was before each of them. Here and now.
“I love you,” Shahrzad breathed. “You are all that I am.”
“And you are all that I will be.”
For here, they existed beyond time.
Here, they could no longer feel the place where she ended and he began.
“It’s late,” Khalid said. “You should sleep.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not doing anything.”
“Stop smiling and go to sleep.”
“How do you know I’m smiling? You’re not even looking at me.”