by Emma Hamm
Tahira didn’t move, crossing her arms firmly over her chest and glowering at Nadir. “I don’t trust him, Matriarch. Excuse me if I insist upon staying.”
“This is a conversation best left to me and my son. Leave us.”
He thought for a moment that Tahira wouldn’t listen to her matriarch. Such an action was expected from a woman so clearly upset that he was even there. He didn’t know what he’d done to garner her hatred. Most people hated him already in the kingdom for all the things he hadn’t done, but this felt a little more personal.
After a few heartbeats, she turned on her heel and left the home.
The moment the flap closed behind her, Nahla reached out and covered her hand with his own. Nadir marveled at the texture of her skin. Had he ever touched someone who was so old? Most elderly people were kept away from him. There was still a superstition in Bymere that they could pass on bad luck to those they touched.
She clearly didn’t believe in these old religions. Instead, Nahla laced her fingers with his and let out a happy sigh. “It’s been too long since I’ve held you in my arms, boy.”
“Why did you let me go?” he asked again. “I heard the story from Abdul. That he came to take me away, that you seduced my father in hopes that one of your own lineage would take the throne.”
“That’s only part of the story.”
“Then it’s true?” he asked, searching her gaze for something more than a woman who had used a child to her advantage. He didn’t want to be the son who was created for a purpose. Just once in his life he wanted to be… wanted.
She smiled at him, squeezed his fingers, then nodded. “There’s so much more I want to tell you. That’s why I brought you here. Of course I wanted to have someone on the throne whom I could trust. Darkness brewed in the line of your father. I thought, perhaps, Beastkin blood could burn that away.”
“Darkness?” Nadir couldn’t imagine what she was talking about. His line had always been known as good kings. They took care of the kingdom, even through hardships, and made decisions others didn’t want to make.
“The Beastkin have suffered under the rule of your father’s line. They suffered before as well. I thought, perhaps, a child of both bloods might be able to bring them together.” She coughed slightly, leaning to the side and catching her breath. “I was right. That’s exactly what you’ve done.”
He didn’t want to agree. It somehow felt wrong, as though he was going against the memory of his family by saying he’d done all that this woman wanted, without having her guidance in his life.
Was it so wrong to agree though? She wanted the Beastkin to be part of the Bymerian empire. He couldn’t disagree that it was a good idea. He wanted the same thing. So why was there a part of him that wanted to renounce the idea immediately because he’d followed in the footsteps she wanted him to traverse in?
He blew out a breath. “So this was your plan all along?”
“One cannot have a plan if the person involved doesn’t know you exist.” She pulled her hand from his and ghosted a velvet soft touch over his cheekbone. “You are more than I ever could have imagined. My handsome boy. Do you know what they call you on the streets now?”
“The boy king?”
“No,” she said and shook her head. “They call you the God King. The boy who was, and the man who became a monster just to save them from the worst of the worst.”
“I’m not a god.”
“You could be, if you tried hard enough.” Nahla struggled to sit up, lifting a hand and refusing his help when he leaned forward. “There is a difference between a man and a god. Do you know what it is?”
“Power.”
Her gaze met his, and he was silenced by the sheer force of it. Suddenly, he understood why she was the leader of the Alqatara and no one else would suit. There was a spine of steel in this woman.
“No, my son. The difference between a man and a god is belief. Your people are already rumbling with the prayers to a god who is also a sultan. That is power you can wield, but only if they continue to believe it.”
“Then how do I coax them to entertain the idea?”
“You give them a reason to believe it. Show them who you are and what you can do. In the moments after the battle, you sat with your people. Lowered yourself to their level and helped them understand that you were a man beneath all the scales. They needed that in that moment, so they would no longer be afraid. Now, there is no fear in their hearts about you. Only curiosity.”
Nadir took a deep breath and held it. Slowly releasing the tension, he nodded. “I don’t know how to make them continue to think in such a way. I don’t know if I really want them to.”
“You do.” Nahla reached out, tucked a finger under his chin, and forced him to meet her gaze. “You want your people to look at you and see a god. They will not question the verdict of a God King. They will question the thoughts of a man.”
“My advisors—”
“Are but pawns in this great game of chess,” she interrupted. “You worry about their opinions far too much, my son. Soon, you will have no need of them. The country will look to the skies for the answers to their questions. They will pray to you and your wives in hopes that someone will hear their prayers. And you? You will answer them.”
He’d never wanted to be a god. Not to his people, not to his family, and certainly not to the world. But the way she said it…. It did seem easier.
There would be no more advisors or people who tried to tell him what to do. There would be no one judging him for being just a man who made poor decisions. The world would have to agree that he was trying, or that they couldn’t understand his methods, but that they must agree with them.
What would Sigrid say?
Nadir wracked his mind, but could only come up with a disapproving expression. She hadn’t wanted him to be anything more than himself. She was the one who said his people needed to see a man before they saw a sultan.
And here he was, choosing to become a god.
His blood mother tapped her thumb on his jaw. “My son. I know this isn’t the path you would have chosen for yourself. It’s not the path I would have chosen for you either. But you must understand, Bymere is at a turning point. There will be a war. There will be so much violence neither of us can see through the blood. And the only thing that can stop that is a god who protects his people from certain death. Can’t you understand that?”
He understood that people wanted to control him his entire life. Everyone he’d ever met wanted something from him, or him to be someone else.
This was his mother. The woman who had given him life. Who was he to deny her anything when she had gone through so much just to ensure he had breath in his lungs?
Or perhaps, he was merely weak. The small voice in his head which had been beaten back by the strength and determination within Sigrid awakened once more. It whispered he couldn’t do this on his own. His decisions were always bad. He was nothing more than a child in a game that would devour him whole if he didn’t listen to his betters.
He didn’t know this woman, or why she wanted him to help her. But he did know she ruled the most important community of deadly assassin in the entire empire. She had to be trustworthy.
And so, the Sultan of Bymere lowered his head and placed it on her lap. “Teach me,” he whispered.
“I will, my son. Before my soul joins the ancestors, I will teach you how to be a god.”
15
Camilla
She kept her eyes focused on the forest beyond the keep, waiting for Jabbar and his men to return. They’d left early in the morning, saying they were going to hunt for the rest of their people. There was plenty of meat in their home. Camilla knew they were lying.
She just didn’t have any idea what they were doing.
Now, the sun set on the horizon, and they still hadn’t returned. A sinking feeling in her belly warned that something terrible was going to happen. Something she couldn’t control.
Cam
illa had led these people well in the wake of her sister’s disappearance. She refused to think of it as a death, although every day that Sigrid was gone stretched longer and longer. She couldn’t believe her sister was dead. The mere thought sent her heart into a thundering beat that threatened to bury her under the sound.
Instead, she believed that Sigrid had found the legendary city. That she would return with new knowledge and purpose for their people. She had to believe. Otherwise, all she could think of was Sigrid’s body on a mountain somewhere, and her soul wandering for all eternity because the ceremony hadn’t been performed.
Warm arms slid around her waist, startling her out of her thoughts.
She glanced down at the honey-colored forearms, their strength easily visible as they flexed beneath her fingers. She’d seen these hands so many times, she knew them better than her own.
There was a scar on his palm if he turned it around. She’d asked about it once, and he’d claimed it was a right for young boys in Bymere to prove their bravery. Hold the bare blade of a sword as tightly as possible for long enough, and one was marked to be a warrior later on.
Najib had held the blade longer than any other boy in his camp.
“You’re worried,” he murmured, pressing his lips against the back of her neck and holding her close to his chest.
“I am.”
“About what?”
Camilla felt a pang of guilt. She hadn’t been able to tell him a single thing about her sister’s crazed plan. As far as he knew, Sigrid was dead. She was the one leading her people, even though she knew she was only here by proxy.
Keeping secrets from him felt as though she were lying every day. She tried not to draw back from their new relationship. Something in his eyes had lured her to him from the first moment she’d seen him, emaciated in the Bymerian Beastkin camp.
He turned into a leopard at will. A great, beastly creature with scars all over its hide and eyes that nearly glowed with the hunger within them. That had died down now that he had her, she’d realized. He wasn’t quite so angry all the time. Not quite so ready to destroy things that he didn’t understand.
Instead, Najib watched her. He made certain she was comfortable, that she had everything she needed. In truth, he was the perfect mate.
But what cat wasn’t?
She breathed out a sigh and turned in his arms. “A lot of things.”
“Why don’t you share?” He adjusted his grip, sliding his hands down her torso and into the dip of her waist. “I can take some of the burden.”
She shook her head, then pressed her face against his shoulder. The problem was that she couldn’t share anything with him. He didn’t need to know that Sigrid was alive, and as much as she trusted him, it wasn’t her secret to give away.
Sometimes, she wondered whether Sigrid had planned this all along. Had her sister somehow caught wind that she had finally, after all these years, found someone she could love? Had she wanted to tear her away from Najib’s arms and force her to become something like Sigrid?
All her life, she’d loved her sister. That didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of Sigrid’s flaws, and there were many. Her sister was cold. She avoided being around other people. She isolated herself, because she thought that was what she was supposed to do.
And Camilla understood being a dragon was different than being an owl. There were certain responsibilities with being matriarch. Personally, she’d never wanted them.
Camilla was the type to enjoy her freedom. She liked to leave whenever she wanted, drift through the winds and ripples in the air. Find her way to a tree and watch the world pass by. There was a quiet sort of peace in those moments.
Moments she didn’t get now that she was Matriarch of the Beastkin.
“Hey,” Najib murmured, pulling her back a little and staring down at her with a worried expression. “You can trust me.”
“I know I can.”
Just not with this. Not with something that wasn’t hers to give away. Camilla pulled back and stepped toward the window, looking out at the forest for the torchlight that would mean Jabbar and his men were home. “Where are they?” she asked.
“I don’t know. They didn't tell me where they were going this time. Apparently, they wanted to try and find new hunting grounds.”
“There's more than enough food.”
“And there are more people coming here every day. You cannot blame them for wanting to be prepared. Winter is coming faster. We can all feel it in the air. Bymerians aren’t prepared to handle the cold like you Earthen folk.”
Camilla made a face, eyes still trained on the forest. “That isn’t the reason why he left, and you know it. Don’t try to blow smoke in front of my eyes as he does with everyone else.”
Again, Najib pulled her back against his chest. “Camilla, if I knew anything—”
She waited when his words trailed off for the lie he would spin. Najib was a loyal man, and he’d been with Jabbar from the beginning. She’d never forget the rush of pride in her throat when she’d first heard the story of Jabbar saving Najib’s life. It was the first, and only, time she would like Jabbar.
Finally, when he didn’t say anything again, Camilla leaned her head back against his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I understand.”
He remained silent for a long while, watching the forest with her. She wondered what was going through his head. Would he tell her the truth? Would he lie more for the man whom he owed his life?
In the end, Najib proved himself more loyal to her than he was to his master. “He wouldn’t tell me where they were going, because they wanted to spy on some of the local human villages.”
“They are not ours to spy upon.”
“He thinks they might rise up and attack us.”
“Raheem already scouted that route. He said they weren’t interested in finding out anything of their new neighbors.” She trusted Raheem more than she trusted most people here. He was a good, reliable man. Unlike man of the Bymerian Beastkin whose eyes were still clouded by judgement and hatred.
“That doesn’t mean they won’t change their mind.” Najib bent at the knee, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Camilla? They want to make sure we’re safe, no matter what happens.”
“They’re going to make the humans fight with us if they’re skulking in the shadows.”
“They’ve done this before. We know how to be careful. How else could we survive in Bymere for as long as we did?”
She wanted to say it was because the Bymerians weren’t as used to hunting and tracking as the Earthen folk. That the Bymerians lived in a desert world where most animals were dangerous no matter what, but the Earthen folk knew that monsters tracked them from the shadows every day of their lives. That they knew what the Beastkin looked like, what they were capable of, and knew how to capture them.
But the Bymerians had proven they didn't want to listen to her or her sisters. They thought they knew how to take care of everyone and didn’t want to ask for help. That meant, no matter how badly she wanted to correct them, that she wouldn’t do it. Couldn’t.
They needed to learn these things on their own.
She blew out a breath and shook her head. “I don’t want to argue tonight, Najib.”
“Then we don’t have to argue.” He tugged her closer, his lips finding hers in a kiss that tasted like dark chocolate and coffee. “Come to bed with me, habib albi.”
Gods, the words were almost her end. He’d called her that for weeks now, and she’d only recently gotten him to admit in the common tongue what they meant.
Love of my heart.
She didn’t know how to tell him the same thing back. The Earthen folk were far more practical people. The Beastkin women were trained early on that they would be traded in a political alliance. She hadn’t thought love would ever be in the stars for her, let alone a man who took her breath away just by existing.
Camilla reached between them and traced a finger over his lips. Those b
eloved, bowed lips that always curved in a cat-like smile the moment he knew she was under his spell. He wanted her to tumble into bed with him and forget everything for a little bit longer.
She didn’t know how.
So many thoughts tangled in her mind, so many worries that made her want to scream. He didn’t understand how important this was that she do well. The Beastkin women weren’t just her people, they were her sisters. She’d grown up beside them, fighting with them, arguing with them until they were all blue in the face.
Disappointing them would be the greatest failure in her entire life. Worst of all, she didn’t think she could disappoint Sigrid like that.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “I have too much to do.”
“You always have something to do. Watching the forest for Jabbar and his people will only make you angrier. Let me take away all these thoughts for a little while.”
She was thoroughly tempted. He was tempting just by existing, but she knew this wasn’t the time or place. As much as she wanted to lose herself in him for a few hours, something was brewing in the air tonight. She didn’t know what it was or what it meant. The hairs on her arms hadn’t settled down in what felt like hours.
Something was coming. Something important, and she couldn’t be tangled up with a man when it happened.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, a knock on her door made her flinch. Camilla gestured for Najib to hide. No one knew about them yet, a fact she wanted to keep to herself.
The Wildewyn and Bymerian Beastkin still weren’t exactly friends. The loss of Sigrid had made that tension a little worse than it had been in a long time. They were all going to be walking on eggshells for a few more months before things settled down again.
She hoped Sigrid would return before that. But considering how many months she’d been gone…
Camilla didn’t want to think about that.
She rushed toward the door the moment Najib was hidden in the wooden wardrobe. Opening it, she cleared her throat and met the gaze of one of her sisters. This one turned into a goldfinch whenever she wished, a rather pretty but small other side of her soul.