The Rose & the Dagger (The Wrath and the Dawn #2) - Renee Ahdieh Page 0,87
in sinister suggestion.
The wind bowed around Khalid, covering him in an eddy of dust and smoke. With the blooming gusts, the symbols the sorceress had worked into the blade began to shimmer as if in response to a threat.
Khalid lifted the dagger high.
But the smoke stayed his hand. It gathered a life force of its own and wrapped itself around his wrists in an icy vise.
What Khalid felt in that moment was like nothing he’d ever experienced in his life. It was not a vision, nor was it a memory. It was not a dream, nor was it a nightmare.
It was simply a feeling. A naked, exposed sort of feeling. The kind that ebbed from his center, drawing itself to the surface for all the world to see. The kind he’d spent so much of his life trying to deny, for fear it would make him appear weak. Would make those around him see past his skin into his very soul.
It was every moment he’d ever felt alone. Every moment he’d ever felt powerless. Every moment he’d ever wanted to disappear.
Every ugly thought and every empty feeling coursing through him, as though the book had reached within him and grasped every doubt—every insecurity—and brought it to the surface.
Brought it there to tell Khalid he was not worthy.
Of anything.
Not worthy to be a king. Not worthy of his uncle’s faith. Not worthy of Jalal’s loyalty. Not worthy of Vikram’s friendship.
Not worthy of Shahrzad’s love.
After all, what had he done to deserve any of it? He was the unwanted second son of an unwanted second wife. Everything to one person, then nothing to no one.
Nothing.
He’d been nothing but an angry boy in the shadows for so long. A boy who’d envied his brother from the shadows. A boy who’d watched his mother die from the shadows.
A boy who’d thrived in the shadows.
Now he had to live in the light.
To live . . . fiercely.
To fight for every breath.
Khalid grasped the dagger with both hands. But the smoke fought back. The jade talisman coiled about his neck. The screams rang louder around him. The sand swirled in a raging vortex, pressing in, tighter and tighter, trying to swallow him. Trying to make him disappear.
All he’d wanted for so long was to disappear. To take all the ugliness with him—all the vicious memories of his mother’s blood spilling across blue-veined agate and silken cords at sunrise—
And vanish without a trace.
“No.”
He squeezed the dagger tighter.
“No!”
Every letter Khalid had ever written, he’d written for a purpose. Every apology he’d ever made, he’d made for a reason. Every journey he’d taken into Rey, he’d taken with hope.
Because he wanted to be better.
Here was his chance to be better. Finally.
A chance to live—to love—in the light.
Blood dripping from his hands, Khalid slammed the dagger into the book.
As the book let out a final, gut-wrenching scream, the sand closed in around him. Pressed in on him, biting into his skin.
Khalid couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. The wind and the sand strove to choke him. To steal away his last bit of purpose.
To fight for the book’s last bit of strength.
His chest heaving, Khalid tore a scrap of coarse brown linen for tinder, then struck the flint to catch a flame. The wind snuffed out the tinder in the same instant.
It took five tries to light. Five tries to fight against the billowing silt. Five tries to cup the fire close and let the pages catch flame.
The book burned blue and foul for hours.
Until the sand finally swirled back to the ground. Until Khalid finally fell with it, exhausted. He stared up at the sky, his body broken. Every wound across his skin ached, the scars reopened in the struggle. Khalid’s blood seeped into the sand. His eyelids began to droop.
He was losing consciousness. Losing blood. He would die here in the desert.
But it did not matter. If he took the curse with him. If he kept his people safe.
If he kept Shahrzad safe.
Nothing else mattered.
A strangely peaceful breeze ruffled his hair. It brought a sense of calm Khalid had only experienced around Shahrzad. That small measure of peace he always fought to keep. Like water cupped in his hand.
If Shahrzad was safe, he could be at peace.
His eyes drifted closed. Then Khalid slept.
With the jade talisman in pieces beside him.
THE SANDSTONE PALACE
WHEN SHAHRZAD WOKE, IT WAS TO THE SOUND of birds and the feel of silk.
Even the faintly scented breeze around her conveyed nothing but light and beauty.