“Khalid—”
“Do what you came to do. You owe me no explanation. I deserve none.”
Shahrzad released a choked sob, and Khalid grabbed her by the arms.
“Get up.” His tone was gentle but firm.
“I can’t.”
“You can. For Shiva. You are boundless. There is nothing you can’t do.”
“I can’t do this!”
“You can.”
“No.” She shook her head, staving off the tears.
“Do it. You owe me nothing. I am nothing.”
How can you say that? You are . . .
Shahrzad shook her head harder. Her grip on the dagger loosened.
“Shahrzad al-Khayzuran!” The muscles in his jaw constricted. “You are not weak. You are not indecisive. You are strong. Fierce. Capable beyond measure.”
She swallowed, steeling herself, searching for a thread of hate, for a dram of rage, for . . . anything.
Shiva.
Khalid stayed resolute in his course. “I took her from you. Nothing I do, nothing I say will ever fix what I’ve done. If there has to be a choice between us, there isn’t one to make, joonam. Not for me.”
My everything.
Shahrzad rose to her knees and braced her palm against his chest.
“And you expect me to make this choice?” she demanded.
He nodded once, his eyes ablaze.
She curled her fingers into the front of his qamis. “You honestly expect me to breathe in a world without air?”
Khalid inhaled sharply as his hands tightened around her arms. “I expect you to be stronger than that.”
Shahrzad’s features softened. “But . . . there is nothing stronger than this.”
Her hold on the dagger was gone. It clattered to the floor. Shahrzad brought her palms to his chest. “Hate. Judgment. Retribution. As you said, revenge will never replace what I have lost. What you have lost. All we have is now. And our promise to make it better.”
She wound her fingers into his hair. “There is no one I would rather see the sunrise with than you.”
Khalid closed his eyes. She could feel his heart racing. When he was able to meet her gaze again, he slid his hands to her face, brushing his thumb across her cheek with the warm caress of a summer breeze.
They knelt facing each other in silence. Studying each other. Truly seeing each other—without any pretense, without any masks, without any agenda. For the first time, Shahrzad allowed her eyes to linger on every facet of him without the fear of his sharp mind tearing through veils of gossamer and gold—
And seeing the truth.
The small, barely noticeable scar by his left eye. The darkly hostile set to his brows. The pools of liquid amber beneath. The perfect furrow in the center of his lip.
When he caught her staring at his mouth, Khalid exhaled slowly. “Shazi—”
“Be with me tonight,” she breathed. “In all ways. Be mine.”
His eyes turned to fire. “I’ve always been yours.” He cupped her chin in his palm. “As you’ve always been mine.”
She bristled and started to protest.
“Don’t.” He returned her biting glare.
“Your possessiveness . . . may present a problem.” She knotted her brows together.
The corners of his lips curled upward, ever so slightly.
Shahrzad took Khalid’s hand and led him to the bed. Though every part of her body remained acutely aware of the tall, solid presence behind her, she did not feel nervous. She felt calm. A remarkable sense of rightness.
He sat on the edge of the bed, and she stood before him.
Khalid leaned his brow against her stomach. “I won’t ask for forgiveness, but I am so very sorry,” he said, with the simple brevity she was learning to expect.
She pressed her lips into his soft, dark hair. “I know.”
He looked up, and she eased onto his lap, with a knee at either side of his waist. Khalid pulled the hem of his qamis over his head, and Shahrzad skimmed her palms across the lean planes of his chest. She paused at a faint line of white along the length of his collarbone.
“Vikram,” he explained.
Her eyes narrowed. “The Rajput? He cut you?”
“Why?” It was almost teasing in tone. “Does it bother you?”
She wrinkled her nose.
Khalid drew her closer. “It happens, from time to time. He’s better than I am.”
“I don’t care. Don’t let him cut you again.”
“I’ll do my best.” He tilted her chin upward. “What about this?” His thumb ran along an old mark at the underside of her jaw, sending a shiver down her back.
“I fell off a wall when I was thirteen.”
“Why were you on a wall?”
“I was trying to prove I could climb it.”
“To whom?”
When she did not reply, Khalid tensed. “I see,” he muttered. “And the fool just watched you fall?”
“I didn’t give him a choice.”
A smile ghosted across his lips. “Against all odds, I feel a drop of sympathy . . . amidst a sea of hatred.”
“Khalid.” She shoved his chest.
“Shahrzad.” He caught her hand, his features abrupt in their intensity. “Is this really what you want?”
She stared at him, surprised to see a flicker of vulnerability on his face.
The mighty Caliph of Khorasan. The King of Kings.
Her beautiful monster.
Shahrzad leaned forward and took his lower lip between hers. She trapped his jaw between her palms and swept her tongue into sun-laved honey.