Page 165 of Sands of Atonement

I narrowed my eyes as they dropped to the bottom of the mountain.

It was a person. The person I wished I could call mine. My heart ached in an unfamiliar way that wanted him to be my person. I could hardly recognize myself and who I had become.

Ezra’s face was hard, his jaw tight. “I thought you left,” he bit out.

My mouth dried, and it wasn’t because of the heat.

“I told you I wasn’t going to.”

“I know…” his words trailed off.

“But you didn’t believe me?” I shifted in my seated position. He plopped nearby, and I felt like it wasn’t nearly close enough. I thought he had died, and my heart almost shattered itself. What did that mean for me?

“No, that’s not it.” He shook his head, his hair falling onto his forehead as he stared into the sands beneath him. “I had hope that you would have stayed. For me.”

My cheeks flushed, and it wasn’t from how warm it was outside. I licked my lips but didn’t know what else to say, so I nodded. My mind flashed back to the last moment we were alone together. Doing things a woman like me, who wasn’t part of his harem, shouldn’t be doing. But I would have done it again, a thousand times over.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked. “What will you do?”

“I need to find Norrah,” I muttered. “And I need answers from Kavid.”

Ezra picked a short straw nearby and twisted it in his fingers. He wore black robes. I had been wearing one of the dresses Targon gave to Norrah and me, beige with threads of dark blue. I laid out an Atrovian robe for me to sit on the sands. The dress was light and permitted air to travel through easily against the harsh sun.

Neither of my fathers were alive now. My life was technically my brother’s to do with as he pleased. To sell me off to a man to benefit his own purposes, like Casimir. Or anyone else. Not that I would let him. But regardless, it was dangerous to go back to Kavid. I could potentially get wrapped up in obligation, shame… loyalty.

I slid my eyes toward Ezra. I had a feeling Ezra wasn’t going to let that pass, though. In fact, I bet the thought had crossed his mind.

“I think it’s wise to have a plan,” Ezra rumbled. “Norrah most likely is already in Brestan, surrounded by Gabriel’s warriors. And showing up at Crahst’s doorsteps, demanding answers, isn’t going to go well with Kavid. You’ve been gone for eight years. Even though he’s your brother, a lot has changed. And not to mention the small fact that he has tried to kill you once before. We can’t trust what his actions will be.”

I scoffed. I didn’t care about much anymore. I had avenged my family, and now I felt empty. It didn’t feel as I thought it would.

In fact, I felt worse.

Ending Targon’s life wasn’t it—it was something more. Something I couldn’t place my finger on. Perhaps the anticipation of avenging my family was greater than the act itself. Maybe in the end, nothing mattered because they were already dead. They were gone. Killing Targon didn’t change any of that.

“You should stay here, at the Atrove. It’s where you belong,” I said as softly as I could and continued to stare at the vast openness. I had business to finish, and they weren’t Ezra’s problems.

He scowled. “I’m not letting you see Kavid by yourself.”

God, more than anything, I hate when someone tells me what to do. “If I want to, then I will.” Feeling suddenly very defensive of my own well-being. “Nothing you can say or do will stop me.”

The air between us was a lot different from at the Oasis or the Atrove. When he held me after I killed Targon. That sweet, calm moment showed me that he cared.

It was much different now.

It was taut.

A dark and methodical laugh escaped Ezra’s lips, causing a shiver to run down my spine. He was staring at me, and it was unnerving.

My heart raced. “I’m not one of your women that you can control their actions or what they say or what they do. You’ll have to trust me, and if you don’t, then that’s not my problem.”

“I don’t do that to women, and stop acting like I do,” he said. “The harem is and was always a facade, a shelter for women in need of it. And as far as you go, you know that’s not true.”

“What?”

“That you’re not my woman.”

His eyes locked on mine. I straightened and said to him, “I don’t belong to you or Kavid or Casimir or my dead fathers. Haven’t you learned by now? I belong to no one but myself.”