Slave to Passion (6 page)

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Authors: Elisabeth Naughton

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy

BOOK: Slave to Passion
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She took another slight step forward, lifted a hand, and slowly rested it against his rock-hard chest. He didn’t move a muscle, only stared at her with hard, onyx eyes she knew she’d remember forever. But heat and life pulsed beneath her palm, warming her from the outside in, amping that courage from the ground up.

Gathering every ounce of strength, she whispered, “The easiest way to get rid of me,
sahad
, is to take the gift now.”

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

Nasir’s heart raced beneath the highborn’s hand.

He was male, and she was as close as any female had been in months, so it made sense he’d react to her. But even with his djinn powers bound, he could tell something was off.

Gone was the scared and timid female he’d spent a long and miserable night locked with in this cell. Gone was the one who’d cowered from him when the Ghul had brought her to view him that first day. Unlike before, now she stood proud and confident, her head held high, her chin jutted out in challenge. But there was something in her eyes…a spark of unease, a hint of worry…and the slightest tremble to her lower lip that told him she wasn’t quite as sure as she wanted him to believe.

The contrast sent questions swirling through his mind. Was his humiliation some new perverse form of amusement to the Ghuls? Had she been sent here to break him mentally since they couldn’t break him physically in the arena? Disgust rolled through his stomach. They could beat him. They could make him fight. But he wasn’t going to willingly be manipulated. Whoever she was and for whatever reason she was here, he didn’t care.

He closed his hand over her wrist, then whipped her around so her back was plastered to his front and his arms were closed around her, locking her against him.


Sahad
—”

“Listen to me very carefully, female,” he said into her ear, ignoring the soft curves of her ass pressing into his groin, the heat from her body radiating into his, and the silky smooth feel of her bare skin against his. “I don’t care what you or your highborn friends have planned. I’m not a pawn in your fucking game. And I won’t be told what—or who—to do.”

He released her, flinging her around to face him once more, then stepped back. Surprise—and yes, a new shot of fear—widened her eyes. Her balance went out from under her, and she dropped onto the mattress with a grunt. “But you can’t—”

Definitely not as confident as she wanted him to believe.

“I’m also not in the mood to talk.” Nodding toward the food he’d dropped when he’d walked in and seen her sound asleep on his bed, he said, “If you’re hungry, eat. You’ve already ruined my appetite. But stay the hell on your side of the cell. And when they come for you tomorrow, make sure you don’t return.”

He blew out the candle on the table beside the bed, then moved into his corner and lowered himself to the blanket on the floor. Pain radiated up his side, and he was so exhausted all he wanted was sleep. But he knew he’d get neither relief nor rest with the female in his cell. Not tonight, anyway.

For several long moments, silence echoed through the room, then the springs on the bed creaked, and very quietly, whispered words echoed through the room. “It’s not my game.”

He wasn’t sure if she’d said them or if he’d imagined them, but he didn’t care. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Only a sliver of light splayed under the cell door, illuminating a mere few feet, but he could see that the female had ignored the food he’d offered and lain back down. Except this time—though she was once again on her side with her hands tucked up near her face—her black dress completely covered her legs, and her eyes were wide and, very definitely, not the least bit sleepy.

He closed his eyes to block her out, leaned his head back against the stones, and saw her determined eyes in his mind. Green eyes, he’d noticed in the candlelight, like shimmering emeralds. Followed by the drape of curly red hair around her shoulders, the neckline of her black dress dipping low into seductive cleavage, and the strap on her shoulder falling to her upper arm, all but begging to be tugged off. With his teeth.

Fuck, this was going to be a long-ass night.

He swiped a hand down his face, brushing away sweat that had gathered on his brow. If they’d handpicked her to mess with his head, they’d done one hell of a good job in the selection. It wasn’t just that she was hotter than sin—smooth features, a slightly upturned nose, mesmerizing eyes, and a body he already knew was made to be touched—or that he’d been without female companionship for ages. It was the fact she vacillated between confident and afraid, that she stood her ground even when she wasn’t sure of his reaction. That she’d come back at all after what he’d done to her yesterday.

She had to be stupid, brainwashed, or simply fucked in the head.

It’s not my game
.

An odd sensation rolled through his belly, stopping his train of thought. Had she come by choice? Or had she been forced? His mind spiraled back to that first day, when the Ghul had pushed her forward. The amusement the male had exuded; the fear radiating from her. Was she as much a chess piece in all of this as he was?

Except…that didn’t make sense. She was Ghul. Not only that, she was a
highborn
Ghul.

Not all Ghuls are evil
.

His own words washed over him like a wave cresting the shore, sending foreboding trickling down his spine. As the female’s shallow breaths across the room gave way to longer, deeper ones, his memories drifted back to those last few moments he’d spent with Talah. Standing on the cliffs behind her house, overlooking the sea. The salty air blowing her long, dark hair back from her face.


You worry too much, Nasir
.”


This is my father’s war, not mine. If it were up to me
—”


If it were up to you, there’d be a treaty. But your father is right. The Ghuls don’t want peace. War is the only solution
.”


Not all Ghuls are evil, Talah. Like us, like humans even, some are good and some are bad. War is not the way to solve our differences
.”

Her expression said she didn’t agree. But she smiled up at him in that placating way he’d come to dread and lifted her fingers to his cheek
. “
Forever the pacifist. You have a gentle spirit, Nasir. If anyone can see the good at the heart of a person, it’s you
.”

He wasn’t sure of that. But he closed his eyes, leaned into her touch, wanting to be comforted by her words. He’d preached about tolerance and acceptance, and now he was doing the very thing he’d argued against. He still believed peace was possible, even if his father disagreed, but because he was second in line to the throne and a general in the king’s army, he had no choice. That didn’t mean he was naïve enough to think that there wouldn’t be consequences, though, or that he’d escape unscathed.

His eyes popped open
. “
Come with me to the castle. Until I can convince the king to stop this asinine war, you’ll be safer there
.”


Nasir
—”

He ground his teeth together
. “
Don’t feed me arguments about not wanting to live with me before we wed or your work at the infirmary, Talah. Just humor me in this
.”

She sighed, stared at his breastplate marked with the golden flame of the Marid tribe. Bit her lip as she debated what he hoped was a losing argument. Just this once, he needed her to acquiesce and not be so damn stubborn
.

Finally
,
she sighed
. “
You’re impossible, Marid
.”


You’re not the first to tell me that
.”


All right
,”
she said, looking up
. “
But not today. I have to let the others know I’m leaving so they have time to find a replacement at the infirmary. At least, temporarily
.”
Her gray eyes sparked. “This doesn’t mean we’ve agreed to anything, though, or that I’ve decided
.”

Relief washed through him as he dragged her into his arms. He could live with that. So long as she was safe, he’d have time to find a way to convince her she couldn’t live without him. “I’ll send castle guards to escort you tomorrow
.”

He kissed her, slowly, gently, with every bit of passion he had in him, and when he eased back, he saw the doubt in her eyes. Doubt he planned to alleviate the moment he returned from this useless battle his father was sending him to
.

He skimmed a finger down her soft cheek
. “
I’ll always keep you safe
.”

Her brow furrowed
. “
I know you think you will, Nasir, but you can’t. And I don’t need anyone to keep me safe. Death comes to us all at one point. You can’t stop it any more than I can. And I wouldn’t want you to
.”

Regret burned hot behind Nasir’s closed eyelids, but he fought back the emotions struggling to shatter the shell he’d built around himself. So many times he’d thought about dropping his sword in the arena, of giving up and letting the Ghuls win so he could join Talah in the afterlife, but something always held him back. Though it went against everything he’d once been, he wouldn’t rest until every last Ghul was destroyed. And not until he found a way to kill the sorceress who’d commanded the Ghuls to pillage Talah’s village in the first place.

The female on his bed sighed. Opening his eyes, Nasir looked her way, fighting back the resentment at her presence. Thankfully, she was still asleep. He watched a wayward curl brushed her cheek and fall over her mouth, her slow breaths fluttering the lock of hair against her lips, reminding him of Talah’s hair blowing in the breeze that last day.

What would Talah have done if she were in this female’s place? If she’d been thrown in here with him, would she have stood her ground or backed down? He’d been drawn to Talah’s gentle spirit, her willingness to help those less fortunate, but she’d never been a fighter. In fact, the biggest regret he had was that he’d never taught her how to protect herself so she would’ve known what to do when those Ghuls attacked.

The female shivered, and Nasir looked down at the blanket he was sitting on with a frown. He already wasn’t getting any love from Malik. If the highborn died from exposure in this freezing cell, not only would his
mu’allim
be after him, the Ghuls would flat-out execute him, no questions asked. And while death didn’t scare him in the least, it wouldn’t help him achieve his goal of revenge.

Pushing to his feet, he gripped the blanket and stood upright. His head spun, and the room tilted. Bracing a hand against the wall to steady himself, he told himself it was lack of food. He eyed the tray across the room, the metal picking up the light from under the door, and thought about eating. Then his stomach rolled, stopping that thought dead in its tracks.

Sleep was a better idea. He shuffled across the floor, tossed the blanket over the highborn, and swiftly tugged it up to her shoulders. But before he could get a step away, she sighed, snuggled deeper into the cotton, and licked her plump, pink, perfect lips.

His gaze drifted over her features. So different from Talah’s. Freckles across the bridge of her nose, a mole near the corner of her right eye, high cheekbones, and just the slightest dimple in her chin. With her pale skin and those startling eyes, there was no denying that she was…exotic.

The word revolved in his mind the longer he stared at her, unable to look away. He’d seen hundreds of Ghuls since he’d been here, but none of the females, slaves or free, had been as enticing as her.

She sighed again, the sound jolting him out of his trance. Enticing? Shit. He smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead and turned back for his corner.

“Not exotic,” he mumbled. “Stupid.” It was more than possible the highborns were setting some kind of trap for him with her, and he was even more determined now not to fall into it.

He lowered himself back to the cold floor, shifted against the stones, and cringed at the sharp shot of pain in his side. Glancing down, he realized the bandage he’d wrapped around his torso was soaked with blood.

Fucking fabulous. Just what he needed. But there was nothing he could do about it now except wait until morning. Closing his eyes, he tried to rest.

Sleep came fitfully. His side burned, his legs ached, and he felt as if he’d been through a meat grinder, thanks to Malik’s workout. He shivered, wrapped his arms around himself, shifted deeper into the corner and tried to find warmth as the hours ticked by. But even as he drifted between sleep and consciousness, images wafted behind his eyes. Talah’s dark hair blowing in the breeze, her olive skin, her gentle smile. Images that slowly morphed until her eyes were no longer gray but sharp, green gems, her hair a drape of wavy red, her lips not curved in sweet compassion but plump, erotic…tempting.

Lips that moved, speaking to him in a voice not from the past but from the present.

 

* * *

 

Crouching in the corner of the cell with the lone candle she’d lit flickering light over the stone walls, Kavin cringed. Sound asleep, the
sahad
was like dead weight, and just lifting his elbow made her muscles strain.

His eyes were still closed, his head resting against the wall, but his skin was burning hot to the touch. She’d tried to ignore his murmurs, hoping he was simply dreaming, but the longer they’d gone on, making zero sense, the less she could. Especially when she realized he must have given her his blanket sometime in the night.

She didn’t owe him anything. He’d made it perfectly clear he didn’t want her around. But she couldn’t ignore him either. So she’d lit a candle, climbed out of bed, and crossed the floor. And now her stomach was tossing on a sea of unease at the bright red blood staining the bandage against his ribs.

“You’re impossible to fight with, Marid,” she whispered.

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