Page 98 of The Shrouded Queen
Without thinking, I threw my arms around him.
He hissed in pain.
Instantly, I released him. “Oh, fuck, sorr—”
His arms went around my waist and crushed me to him, and he buried his face in my neck. I curled my fingers into his tattered shirt, relief nearly sending me to my knees. A wave of hysterical laughter rocked me. “I thought you were dead,” I breathed.
He smiled against my cheek. “I already told you, I will never leave you.”
I squeezed Jasim tighter as another amazed laugh bubbled out of me. Over his shoulder, the wave and sparkling dust were gone. As if they had never been there at all.
Shaya had saved me. He hadn’t abandoned me. He still chose me. And he’d blessed me with Jasim’s life.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, beginning to pull back. “Did Anwar—”
I held on tighter. “I’m fine.” He smelled of sweat and blood—and familiar river reeds.
Jasim was okay. We were both free. A pressure lifted from my chest and relieved tears pricked my eyes.Thank you, Baba.
Jasim tensed. “Amunet.”
Something about his voice made me lift my head. His eyes were trained gravely on something behind me.
The sandy earth stretched out in front of us, leading to a chain of mountains that were split down the middle, forming an entrance. On either side of the entrance was an enormous statue, identical and towering as high as the mountains themselves. A man with feathered wings curling over his shoulders, their tips nearly touching his crowned head. I knew exactly who was depicted there.
Athar. Shaya and Ketet’s son, God of Mischief and Dreams.
And through the entrance, beyond the mountains was a sea of thin, tall trees. The forest stretched out as far as the eye could see. Despite the blazing sun, fog drifted along the forest bed.
My sweat dried cold on my back. I’d seen drawings of this place, had been warned against venturing this far south by every tutor, every nursemaid, by the king himself.
I was facing the Border Mountains. And past that, Dead Man’s Forest.
“Shit,” Jasim muttered.
My curse was much more colorful.
THIRTY-NINESAMIRA
Velka was posted outside my door instead of Keir, her braid a frazzled mess around her face, and her eyes glittered with residual wildness from last night. She greeted me with a hoarse voice.
“Where’s Keir?” I asked.
“He, uh, he got a bit out of hand last night,” she replied. “Shifter stuff. Rade sent him to cool off.” She waved her hand like there was nothing to worry about.
A blush found its way to my cheeks as I recalled Keir’s fingers digging into my hip, his haggard breath in my ear. He’d been near snapping. I couldn’t deny that the possibility had, for a thoughtless moment, excited me. But along with the deep desire I’d glimpsed in his eyes burned wrath. If he actually had snapped last night, but not on me… gods knew what he’d done to get put in a time-out.
“And Bain?” I asked, tone consciously casual.
Velka paused. “What about Bain?”
Keir hadn’t told her. After what had nearly happened, I definitely wasn’t going to be the one to do it. “Never mind.”
The wild glint in her eyes faded for a moment as her gaze lowered to my bandaged shoulders. “I heard Siv came to see you. Did Bain…?”
“I’m fine, Velka. Just got caught up in the Lunar Feast.” Whichwasn’t a lie, since the phantom hardness of Keir’s body still tingled against my spine.
Oblivious to my rapidly heating blood, Velka nodded and waved for me to follow her.
