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Authors: Elisabeth Naughton
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that hadn’t happened. He’d destroyed every opponent they’d tossed at him.
Another image of him arcing out again and again with his swords in the arena flashed in front of her eyes, the stone as much a part of him as he fought as his hair or eyes or teeth. Was that how he stayed alive? Did the gemstone give him some kind of power?
“Who are you?” she whispered.
He didn’t answer. She didn’t expect him to. He was lost in some fever-induced haze, but that was okay. Probably better, actually. Because, based on the way she was now feeling toward him, if he turned that dark and dangerous gaze on her again so soon, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.
Hinges creaked, and metal groaned. Kavin looked up sharply just as the door was pulled open and a guard stepped in, a square box in his hand. “This will have to do.” He dropped it at his feet, then moved back. “See to it he does not die.”
He was gone before she could answer, the lock clanking loudly in his wake. Slowly, Kavin moved away from the sahad and crossed the floor, then lifted the box and opened the lid.
Bandages, medicine, ointment for the wound. Relief was a welcome yet disturbing feeling.
He wasn’t going to die. Not tonight, anyway.
Chapter Six
Someone was humming.
Nasir wrestled from a deep and clouded sleep and slowly opened his eyes to blink up at a stone ceiling.
Awareness seeped in. Candlelight illuminated the ceiling above, the rock walls around him, and the dirt floor below. A shiver ran down his back as realization came crashing in. He was in his cell in the pits of Jahannam, lying on the uncomfortable mattress with a blanket pulled up to his chest, darkness surrounding him as always. Except…
Somewhere close, the sweet, gentle notes of a song he didn’t recognize met his ears. The melody pushed the darkness to the wayside, dragged his thoughts from despair and pulled them toward the light. Tipping his head, he looked toward the candle’s flickering flame…and the redheaded female sitting in his corner, wrapping what looked like strips of fabric into a ball.
Something warm rolled through his chest. Something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Something that nearly stopped his breath.
Her head came up. The humming stopped. She stared at him a long beat but didn’t speak. And in her hypnotizing eyes, he couldn’t read her expression.
“You’re awake,” she finally said.
Weird images passed before him. Her arms around his torso. Her lush, tempting body pressing into his. Her leaning over him, the soft curtain of her hair tickling his cheeks. And concern across her mesmerizing face when she’d swiped a cool cloth over his forehead and whispered, “The worst is over. Rest now.”
She pushed to her feet, smoothed out the black skirt of her dress, looking nervous and unsure and way too damn gorgeous as she took a hesitant step his way. “How do you feel?”
Nasir’s pulse picked up speed, and his skin tingled. How did he feel? Hot. Achy. And oddly…aroused. Especially with the way she was looking at him. But why was she asking? Why would she care?
She moved to the foot of the bed, the candlelight flickering over her cleavage, drawing his gaze, making his skin that much tighter. “You’ve been asleep almost a full day. Your mu’allim was here. He brought herbs to break the fever. It looks like they helped.”
He’d been out a full day? And Malik had been to see him? Confusion swept through Nasir’s hazy mind as he tried to look away from her tantalizing breasts.
He pushed up on his hands, worked to sit upright. The female rushed over. “Here, let me help.”
His adrenaline surged, and he sucked in a breath, knowing he should say no, yet not able to get the words out of his mouth. She set the ball of fabric—no, bandages—on the foot of the bed and gripped his arm in her dainty hands, her skin silky soft against his, her heat and floral scent making him light-headed. Sweat beaded his brow as
Another image of him arcing out again and again with his swords in the arena flashed in front of her eyes, the stone as much a part of him as he fought as his hair or eyes or teeth. Was that how he stayed alive? Did the gemstone give him some kind of power?
“Who are you?” she whispered.
He didn’t answer. She didn’t expect him to. He was lost in some fever-induced haze, but that was okay. Probably better, actually. Because, based on the way she was now feeling toward him, if he turned that dark and dangerous gaze on her again so soon, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.
Hinges creaked, and metal groaned. Kavin looked up sharply just as the door was pulled open and a guard stepped in, a square box in his hand. “This will have to do.” He dropped it at his feet, then moved back. “See to it he does not die.”
He was gone before she could answer, the lock clanking loudly in his wake. Slowly, Kavin moved away from the sahad and crossed the floor, then lifted the box and opened the lid.
Bandages, medicine, ointment for the wound. Relief was a welcome yet disturbing feeling.
He wasn’t going to die. Not tonight, anyway.
Chapter Six
Someone was humming.
Nasir wrestled from a deep and clouded sleep and slowly opened his eyes to blink up at a stone ceiling.
Awareness seeped in. Candlelight illuminated the ceiling above, the rock walls around him, and the dirt floor below. A shiver ran down his back as realization came crashing in. He was in his cell in the pits of Jahannam, lying on the uncomfortable mattress with a blanket pulled up to his chest, darkness surrounding him as always. Except…
Somewhere close, the sweet, gentle notes of a song he didn’t recognize met his ears. The melody pushed the darkness to the wayside, dragged his thoughts from despair and pulled them toward the light. Tipping his head, he looked toward the candle’s flickering flame…and the redheaded female sitting in his corner, wrapping what looked like strips of fabric into a ball.
Something warm rolled through his chest. Something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Something that nearly stopped his breath.
Her head came up. The humming stopped. She stared at him a long beat but didn’t speak. And in her hypnotizing eyes, he couldn’t read her expression.
“You’re awake,” she finally said.
Weird images passed before him. Her arms around his torso. Her lush, tempting body pressing into his. Her leaning over him, the soft curtain of her hair tickling his cheeks. And concern across her mesmerizing face when she’d swiped a cool cloth over his forehead and whispered, “The worst is over. Rest now.”
She pushed to her feet, smoothed out the black skirt of her dress, looking nervous and unsure and way too damn gorgeous as she took a hesitant step his way. “How do you feel?”
Nasir’s pulse picked up speed, and his skin tingled. How did he feel? Hot. Achy. And oddly…aroused. Especially with the way she was looking at him. But why was she asking? Why would she care?
She moved to the foot of the bed, the candlelight flickering over her cleavage, drawing his gaze, making his skin that much tighter. “You’ve been asleep almost a full day. Your mu’allim was here. He brought herbs to break the fever. It looks like they helped.”
He’d been out a full day? And Malik had been to see him? Confusion swept through Nasir’s hazy mind as he tried to look away from her tantalizing breasts.
He pushed up on his hands, worked to sit upright. The female rushed over. “Here, let me help.”
His adrenaline surged, and he sucked in a breath, knowing he should say no, yet not able to get the words out of his mouth. She set the ball of fabric—no, bandages—on the foot of the bed and gripped his arm in her dainty hands, her skin silky soft against his, her heat and floral scent making him light-headed. Sweat beaded his brow as
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