Kismet's Kiss: A Fantasy Romance (Alaia Chronicles) (38 page)

Fury swarmed up her throat and propelled her toward him. “How could you allow your people to believe that magic is evil? I was nearly
murdered
for it, and yet here’s their sultan, using magic in his very palace. Hypocrite!”

His green eyes narrowed and his words emerged in clipped bites. “My intention was not to anger you. I showed you this as an apology. An admission, of sorts.”

She folded her arms over the hurt coiled in her chest. “An apology.”

“For some of the…difficulties you have faced here.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Varene, magic’s been spurned in Kad since long before I took the throne.”

“But
you
have allowed that to continue.”

“My forefathers made a choice—to rule!” He took a deep breath, then clasped his hands behind his back and stared out the window. “My people’s prejudice against magic is far older than even the dagger of Ayaaz you’ve held. Ayaaz himself had several wives, and the mother of his youngest child came from a tribe in the hills where power still flowed in the blood. She kept her magic secret, and her son Sefar’s as well. If the truth had been known, Ayaaz would never have chosen Sefar.”

He gave her such a candid glance she felt like she was delving into his soul. “Sefar’s descendants have likewise hidden our power, our
kyrra
as you call it, to keep the throne. My realm is complex—held together by the sultan’s force of will and by the belief and fealty of those he rules. Here, machinations and treacheries grow in the thinnest of soil. I’ve not been willing to risk my rule and the fate of my people on their willingness to change beliefs they’ve held for millennia.”

She stared at him for long seconds as his words sank in. “How much do you have?”

“Of what?”

“Kyrra. Power to do magic. How much do you have?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. No one’s ever tested me.”

“Then give me your hand.”

She watched the play of emotions across his face—refusal, unease, yearning. Her anger cooled as he shared himself, let her see behind his own mask.

His hand fisted, then relaxed. “I was jealous, you know,” he said gravely.

Amusement curled her lips. “I’ve noticed that. But of which occasion do you speak?”

“When you held Sohad’s hand. You were teaching him.”

She inhaled a soft breath as a new layer of him clicked into place. The sultan had picked a fight with her not just for touching Sohad, but about her magical powers. Because all the while, he was hiding his own, concealing them for fear others would shun him.

The Great Sultan, always alone.

She stepped toward him, her voice lower now. “I’m not a tester by training, nor a kyrra tutor. But my power can call to yours, and perhaps we can discover how much you have.” She held her hand out and waited.

At last he raised his own and let her cup it in hers. Warmth flowed between them, and with it came the now-familiar hum she felt when they touched. “Close your eyes and think of your kyrra. Call to it. Feel it inside you.”

His brow furrowed in concentration above his closed lids.

A harmony of sound exploded into Varene’s mind. The intensity of it, the richness, rocked her onto her heels. She stared up at the sultan.

When his dusky eyelashes parted and he observed her reaction, a thoroughly pleased grin lit his lips. “That good, eh?”

“That
much
.” She let her hand fall to her side. “You could have been a mage, Kuramos.”

His smile lessened and he clasped his hands behind his back again. “I am a sultan.”

She turned away, laughing at herself in disbelief. “Such an idiot I’ve been, not to notice it before. I just…didn’t expect this depth of power. Not in Kad. Not from the Great Sultan.” She whirled back to him. “What do you feel, when you do that? I hear, in my mind, wonderful music. I want to sing along, dance with it…”
Make love with it resounding in my ears.
The erotic nature of kyrra was well known in Teganne, but here?

The green of his eyes glittered into emeralds, and his voice became a lion’s lustful purr. “As Sohad said…it feels
good
.”

Her body quivered in response, and her mind called out a wordless warning. “How unfortunate, how
sad
it is that your culture, one so deeply sensual, would eschew magic! This heightening of feeling, of the senses—your people are suppressing their inborn gifts.”

“Perhaps.” He shrugged. “But they still live their lives under the sun and stars. They still grow up and fall in love, raise families and celebrate the gods. They still enjoy their world.”

“You can have a tutor. I’ll find someone to come teach you.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I chose long ago. I have my realm. That’s what I want.”

“But you don’t have to settle for one or the other,” she pleaded. “Alvarr is both, and the stronger for it—”

“Is he?” Kuramos stepped closer. “Highly paid armies are a reliable strength. I may know little about the kyrra I have, but I know magic can create weakness, too. The mystical domain has its own vulnerabilities. Keep in mind that Teganne’s thrones were nearly usurped by a magic-wielder, yet my armies have kept Kad’s borders sacrosanct.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “I’m well aware of how Alvarr and Jilian met. But there can be a middle ground. If not for you,” she added quietly, “then what about for Mishka?”

His gaze grew hooded, and he waited a moment before speaking. “How did you know?”

She wasn’t sure what to divulge about her interaction with Maitri, so she stuck to the simplest truth. “I watched her. She seems to find it easy to use her kyrra, as untrained as she is.”

He sank onto a pillow by the table as if the weight of the skies had been heaved onto his broad shoulders. “No one was to know of it but us,” he said. “Mishka, Maitri, and myself.”

“Your daughter’s still a child, with a power others don’t have, one that hungers to be used.” Worried, she lowered herself onto a pillow beside him and tucked her feet beneath her. “Are you ashamed of her?”

His gaze whipped up to hers. “Never! But if she isn’t careful around others, she’ll be in danger. You remember what they tried to do to you.”

Her hands clenched on the pillow. “Too well, thank you. And such atrocities will continue—if the beliefs encouraging them aren’t changed. As the sultan, you have the power to begin that change.”

A glower gripped his features. “Are we talking about sacrificing my daughter again?”

“Not at all. Go as slowly as you like. But you lead Kad by example. Your words, your beliefs, your
choices
have an impact. Consider the options. That’s all I ask.”

He went silent and turned his eyes to the vista outside. When he spoke again, his voice was thoughtful, almost musing. “What I said before, about no one but myself and my servants entering these rooms, wasn’t quite true. My mentor, Dabir, taught me the secret of this window. He’d done that for my father and grandfather, as well. He wielded magic, but not in the same way as your mages. And he taught me what I know. A hidden bond between us.”

Kuramos watched the other side of the table as if seeing his mentor there. “We’d sit here for hours and talk about what was happening within Kad, and what should be done. How to keep the peace, maintain rule, hold my realm together. Dabir loved to think about the future, to imagine what paths would bring the right results.” He glanced down at the rug and smiled. “He even foretold your arrival.”

“Mine?” She tilted her head, intrigued. “What did he say?”

“
Call for her. She will come.
” Kuramos turned to her, a turbulent ocean in his eyes. “
Will you bend, or will she? Perhaps neither.
”

Varene shivered and slid her gaze away.
Perhaps neither…

“And now Dabir is gone.” His voice was a low rumble. “No one alive knows of the special nature of this window but me. And you, Varene. Now you know.”

Another frisson slid down her spine as she darted her eyes back to him. “Why have you shared this with me?”

He rose to his knees in front of her, so close that he bracketed her thighs between his own and his warm breath cascaded over her cheeks. He took her face in his calloused, warrior palms and stared into her eyes as if she were the only thing in his world that would ever matter.

“Because, Varene na Seryn of Teganne, I love you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

S
tunned, Varene stared up at Kuramos. His words tumbled over and over in her head. Miniature earthquakes quivered along her limbs, and she reached up, sliding her fingers around his wrists. “
You love me?
”

“I do. More deeply than I’d ever thought possible.” He lowered his forehead to rest against hers. Her pulse thumped like the rhythm Kuramos had beat on his garden drum—sensual, seductive…dangerous.

He loved her. He
loved
her!

And yet…

Kuramos raised his head and gazed into her eyes, searching, newly wary. His fingers lightened on her cheeks. “Do you not…feel the same for me?”

Thud
, went her heart. Wouldn’t it be easier to lie?

Thud.
Better to tell him she didn’t love him. She’d walk away with her heart broken now, rather than later, when the pain of leaving would be so much worse.

Thud.
But she was so tired of pretending…

He stiffened and withdrew his hands. Hurt chiseled his face an instant before a blank facade erased any trace of emotion.

Thud.
She touched her fingers to his lips, then cupped his cheeks in her hands, mirroring how he’d held her.

Traces of guarded hope flecked the sea of his eyes.

“Kuramos,” she whispered. “Yes, I love you.” A tear slid down her cheek.

Perplexity drew his brows together, and a gentle finger wiped the moisture away. “You are sad? Unhappy that you love me?”

She closed her lashes and another tear slipped out. “What is between us…cannot succeed.”

His clothing rustled as he moved toward her. When her eyes popped open in alarm, he’d braced his hands on her pillow, trapping her body between his arms. His gaze slid to her mouth. Suddenly she was no longer sure there was oxygen in the room.

“Varene, shouldn’t you let your heart lead you?”

Her lips heated under his gaze. His mouth moved toward hers, relentless, delicious.

“I…I’m not sure my heart is the best guide.” Her chest tightened, seeking air.

He gave a slow, devastating smile. “How can you know, unless you give it the chance?”

“It’s not…”
a simple matter
, she wanted to say, the phrase Sohad had used when she’d encouraged him to tell Priya of his love. But when Kuramos’s warm breath glided over her parted mouth, she forgot about words and saw only his eyes, looking down at her as if she were the only woman he loved, that he could ever love, in eons of time under the sun of Kad. His lips grazed hers and pleasure cascaded through her.

“Is this what your heart wants, Varene?”

Every nerve in her body pulsed. She lost herself in the heat, in the liquid sensation of his lips gliding over her own. His hand cupped her nape, lowering her toward the pillows, and he leaned over her and pressed his hot, hard body to hers. His tongue teased her mouth open, drew the breath from her lungs until she melted against him like warmed honey.

Warning bells tolled a klaxon in her mind.
You’ll be lost…

Groaning beneath his kiss, she grabbed his shoulders and rolled him onto his back, moving with him. Then she raised herself up a fraction and stared into his eyes.
Keep kissing
, shouted her heart.
Walk away
, screamed her head.

She released him and sat up.

His gaze punched to the ceiling and his hands gripped the azure pillows at his sides. “
Why
do you do that? Why do you pull back from me?”

She shook her head, feeling miserable. “So many reasons.”

Despite his desire, which made itself remarkably evident through his thin churidar, he slowly raised his torso and seated himself cross-legged. “Tell me of them.” He reached out and touched her ring. “Start with why you wear this.”

She jerked her hand back, staring at the scuffed silver. “To remind me of a mistake I once made. A long time ago.” Her heart beat sideways and she closed her eyes, panicked by the images that would flood her, afraid of reliving it all again.

His hand slid over hers, gentle and warm, and tethered her safely to the present. After a deep breath, she began. “I was born in Fallorm, not Teganne. My father was a minor moneylender, and when I was old enough to itch for adventure but still young enough to be a terrible judge of what qualifies, a nobleman came for a loan.”

Beneath his palm, her thumb twisted the ring around her finger. “Tharkin was charming, handsome, mysterious…all the things I thought I wanted. He was also remarkably talented at flirtation. And seduction. His attention was exhilarating. Before I knew it, I was madly in love. And then…I became pregnant.” Opening her eyes to his, she caught a flash of anguish, of jealousy, before he schooled his face.