Dawn of Cobalt Shadows (Burning Empire Book 2)

Home > Other > Dawn of Cobalt Shadows (Burning Empire Book 2) > Page 28
Dawn of Cobalt Shadows (Burning Empire Book 2) Page 28

by Emma Hamm


  “That is the duty of the Qatal. We are forgotten as soon as the air leaves our lungs.”

  “I will not forget you. My children will not forget you. Their grandmother was a warrior who saved the kingdom countless times over. No child of mine will not know this.”

  Nahla’s lungs rattled as a breath wheezed out. “Good. That’s good, my son.”

  He drew her hand closer to his chest. Pressing her fingers against his skin in hopes that she might feel his heart beating strong there. Her legacy wouldn’t die with her. Nadir was still here, he was still strong, and he would save the kingdom as she’d wished. Perhaps not for her, but because of her.

  He didn’t know how long he knelt beside the cot. It didn’t matter that his knees ached as they pressed into the sand, nor that shivers danced down his spine as wind funneled through the hole in the top of the hut. Instead, he intently listened to her discomfort and waited for the moment when silence fell heavy around him.

  The passing of her soul was as quiet as a blanket of snow. It touched upon his shoulders in the sudden quiet. The last exhale from her body sang like the low tune of a flute before it disappeared from this world forever.

  Nadir should feel more of a loss than this. His heart ached for her, for the loss of a soul who had been taken too young. But it wasn’t that of a son who had lost his mother. For that, he regretted her actions for her. Perhaps, if they were given more time, he might have loved her as she deserved. As it was, he could only gift her with little more than clearing his throat and a quiet nod.

  “Rest easy, warrior,” he murmured. Leaning forward, he touched a finger to each of her eyes and gently closed them. “Your fight has ended.”

  Gods, this was his mother. The woman who had brought him into the world and she was gone.

  Now he would never know where he’d come from. What he’d looked like as a child… Nadir let out a slow sigh. It didn’t matter. None of that mattered, regardless of her capabilities to birth him. She’d given him up. That had to be enough, so his thoughts didn’t try to drown him.

  The tent flap stirred behind him. He knew it was Tahira.

  She let out a soft sound. “So she’s gone then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it—” she hesitated, then cleared her throat. “Was it painless?”

  “As far as I could tell.”

  “She wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know how weak she was,” Tahira replied. “It’s better if we tell people that she went out without a fight at all. That she was… peaceful. In the end.”

  He watched her throat bob with deep emotion that he couldn’t respond to. How did one let another person know that he wanted to be there? That he wanted to share the same feelings as her but couldn’t bring himself to think of this cold, dead woman beside him as anything other than the leader of the Alqatara?

  Nadir opened his mouth to reply with something, anything. The words didn’t want to come out, and they didn’t have to. His mind suddenly shook with the weight of another launching deep through his skull.

  The pain spread through the back of his head until he couldn’t think of anything else other than the words screaming inside his skull.

  “Nadir!”

  He’d waited so long to hear that voice. He didn’t want to hear it ring with anger or disappointment as it was now, but he’d take whatever he could with her. If she wanted to shout at him, to fight, it was still something. Anything was better than the near year of silence.

  “She’s here,” he muttered, standing swiftly and casting a glance at the woman who had birthed him. “I take it you’ll lead the ceremony?”

  “She would have wanted her own blood to lead that.”

  He was already striding toward the front of the hut. He paused beside Tahira and clapped a hand to her shoulder. “You’re more her family than I am. If she wanted someone who cared for her to help guide her into whatever afterlife you believe in, then you would be better at that than I.”

  The emotion in her gaze nearly sent him to his knees. He didn’t want to see the pain in those eyes. She was a strong woman, a warrior who had managed to break free from the Bymerian prisons. She shouldn’t have to suffer like this when there were so many more who deserved it.

  No words came to mind. Instead, Nadir nodded one more time and left the hut. The Alqatara would take care of each other, he was certain of that. There was no reason for him to be there.

  Sand blasted up as he strode through the huts. Sigrid wouldn’t land here. She didn’t like people to see her in the dragon form. Perhaps a bit of her mind rattled along their connection as well. He knew she was angry, nervous, and so tentative to come here after what she’d done.

  He felt the same. The Bymerian people were so close to liking her. They wanted to see something in her like a future that they could understand. Then, she’d taken that all away by destroying their capital city.

  He should be angrier about that too. He should hate her for what she had done, and all the things she stood for.

  And yet… he couldn’t. Nadir still felt as though she was the only person in the empire who could understand him. The only one who could look into his eyes and know what he felt.

  Did she feel the same?

  Somewhere between the hut where his mother’s body lay and the outskirts of the Alqatara village, he began to run. His lungs nearly burst with the effort, his muscles burning as he raced toward her. The pain didn’t matter. Physical pain was fleeting.

  Some of the assassins stared at him as he raced by. They were merely lucky he didn't change into the dragon and let the beast take over for a few moments. Gods knew it was screaming in his head, begging to be released so that it could race to the side of their mate. It knew she was here. It knew they were mere heartbeats away from seeing her again. After all this time.

  The gates to Falldell stood open. They remained so during the day in case any stragglers through the sands needed help. So few did, but the great snake heads stared out into the desert, waiting for someone.

  This time, he knew they were waiting for the same person he was. He ran like a dying man toward the everlasting oasis. His soul would find her, he knew it. Anywhere she went, he could feel her.

  Sand stirred on the horizon and a massive head lifted from the dunes. Opalescent and shimmering in the sunlight, she stood strong and proud. There were two figures next to her, but he didn’t care who they were. They could be here to kill him for all he knew. It didn’t matter.

  She was so close.

  Nadir slowed as he approached, stopping ten paces away from her and watching as the scales melted away. She changed back into the woman he knew, and yet… someone so much more than that.

  Her hair was longer, he realized. It had been bleached by the sun into a white gold that hurt his eyes to look at. She no longer wore it braided or twisted back from her face, but free hanging nearly to her waist now.

  Icy eyes stared at him with an anger that he felt deep in his soul, but a sadness that he didn’t understand. Her face had thinned as well. The square jaw he’d so admired many times was more pronounced. The curved edges of her cheeks, so childlike when he first saw her, had hardened into a more aggressive face.

  The mantle on her shoulders was made of fur. Leather armor covered her chest and what looked like a loincloth parted at the sides of her legs to reveal long lines of alabaster skin.

  He’d never seen so much of her at once. It was overwhelming.

  A smear of dirt marred her cheek, and he couldn’t help but look at it with fondness. She’d never cared very much for what she looked like. Even the elaborate gowns she wore were always ruined by the end of the day. He’d tried to get her to dress in the ways of his people, thinking she’d do less harm to silks if they were even more delicate. Now, he could see that was always a losing battle.

  Sigrid was a woman made of wild abandon and a desire to hear the wind in her ears. She couldn’t be tamed by castle walls. He’d been a fool to even try.

  Taking
one step forward, he reached out a hand and said a single word. “Wife.”

  Something snapped between them. He didn’t know if he was the first one to move or her. But within a heartbeat she was in his arms, and it felt so right.

  The earth stopped spinning because he could smell the biting mint of her hair, the chill of her flesh, and the strong grip of her arms around his waist.

  She was here and real in his arms. It wasn’t something out of a dream but she had come for him.

  Nadir curled his body around hers, drawing her closer to his chest. The feeling of her fingers splayed wide over his heart was right. He couldn’t think of a moment in his life when he’d felt this complete. So utterly enchanted by another person who he had missed for what felt like his entire life.

  He leaned down, breathed in her scent, and then rested his cheek against the top of her head.

  He’d let go of her soon. Had to. There was so much they needed to talk about. A war on her homeland, his people rebelling against him, what he’d done with his dragon… his plan to become a god.

  It could all wait. For a few more moments while he bathed in the feathered touch of her breath against his neck. The warmth of her fingers where she held his heartbeat close to his skin. The weight of her arms around him.

  “Husband,” she whispered.

  He tightened his hold around her shoulders. “It’s good to have you home.”

  27

  Sigrid

  She tucked her face into the crevice where his shoulder met his neck and willed her heart to stop beating so fast. He’d hear it. Then he’d know that she’d missed him just as much as he’d missed her, and then where would she be?

  They hadn’t seen each other in… was it a year now? Already?

  Somehow, he’d grown into a man. His shoulders were far broader, and she’d already thought him rather large a year ago. His waist had tapered, his arms stronger and hands capable of handling so much more weight.

  It was his face that disturbed her the most. The beard was one thing. She hadn’t even thought to enjoy facial hair on a man, but found his quite pleasing. There were fanned wrinkles at the corners of his eyes which hadn’t been there before, and a line directly in the center of his forehead that was clearly from stress.

  He’d aged. More than that, he’d grown into a man while she was gone.

  Sigrid wondered what he saw when he looked at her. A girl still? A young woman trying to pretend that she could lead a group of animals who didn’t want to listen to her? Or did he see a queen in the making, one who could take on both kingdoms if it meant that she could save her family?

  She blew out a breath, the chilled touch of her breath raising gooseflesh on his skin. She didn’t know what her own answer would be to the question. If she looked into a mirror, would she see the same woman as she wanted to? Or would she see a scared child still looking to find herself?

  Nadir pulled away just enough to see her face. He notched a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up to look at him.

  Her stomach burst into butterflies. She couldn’t think when he was looking at her like that. Like he’d missed her so much it was difficult to breathe now that she was here.

  Because she felt the same way.

  This wasn’t the same boy she’d known a year ago. And that scared her. Who was he now? Was she going to have to get to know him all over again? Would they even like these new versions of each other?

  Perhaps he wasn’t worried about it at all, because Nadir grinned so wide she worried his face might crack.

  “It’s so good to see you,” he said, his voice deep and rough. “I hadn’t thought to ever see you again.”

  “I don’t think either of us planned on it.” But that was a lie. She’d come to his room a year ago, hadn’t she? The very first Beastkin that she’d taken away from Bymere had come from him, after the battle. He’d been the one to start their secret plan to save their kind, and she had been the one to first reach out.

  Her fingers fisted in the fabric of his shirt. She didn’t want him to back away. Not yet, just a few more moments where she could touch him—know that he was alive and well—when all she’d done was destroy the things he’d tried so hard to build.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t think I ever said it. But I am.”

  “I know.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “Neither did I.” His hands curled tighter around her waist, drawing her closer to him and his warmth. Had she ever been this warm before? Sigrid wasn’t certain. The heat billowing off him in waves reached deep under her skin and warmed her to the very core. “I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you. It wasn’t right.”

  “You did what you had to do.”

  “So did you, and that didn’t stop you from apologizing.” He pressed his lips against her temple, and gods, if she didn’t let her eyes drift shut and enjoy the moment. If only for a few seconds. “I’m still sorry our lives can’t be just the two of us somewhere alone. Where we could figure out who each other is without the weight of responsibilities and kingdoms.”

  His words rang with a bitter pain that rocked her to the core. He was right. They would have gotten along very well if they weren’t from two separate worlds who hated each other.

  She might have even loved him if she’d been given the time and the space to do so. He was a good man in his core. One that was vain and arrogant, certainly, but there was something more in him no one else had ever encouraged. She’d learned that in her time at the palace.

  They couldn’t stand in the middle of the desert forever. Too many people relied on them to make a decision and stop what was happening between the two kingdoms. Far too many people’s lives rested on their shoulders.

  Someday, she vowed they would have the time to explore each other. Time where she could ask him what his favorite meal was. How many stars he thought were in the night sky. Whether or not he thought the sky was truly blue or if it was simply a reflection of all the water they couldn’t see.

  Still, that time wasn’t now. Reluctantly, she pulled away from him and stepped a few feet back.

  “I flew over your armies,” she muttered, wiping a hand over her brow to mask the mist of tears in her eyes. “They seemed quite interested to know I was still alive and heading straight back for the palace. Hopefully that will cause at least half of them to return here and defend the Red Palace.”

  “Smart thinking. It will give the Earthen folk a chance.”

  “They can fight in their own forests, Nadir. I was trying to save the lives of your people.” Did he really think she worried about Wildewyn? They’d been fighting in those forests their entire lives. Even the children knew how to hide in nooks and crannies the Bymerians wouldn’t dream of.

  Trees and forests were the domain of the Earthen folk.

  Nadir raised a brow. “Do you really think peasants are a match for an army who has trained their entire lives to kill?”

  “Your people have never seen a forest. They don’t know how to look up into the branches and pick out a person where they might only see leaves. The arrows which will rain down upon them will take lives.”

  “My men have been hunting in your forests much longer than you realize, Sultana.” He gave her a mock bow, the glint in his eyes one she recognized very well. “Or did you think I am so foolish I wouldn’t have assassins training in your kingdom? They’ve always been there.”

  She should be angry that he’d hidden people in the forests of her home. Instead, she felt a grin spread across her face. A feral look that meant she was proud of him, that she’d come to think he wasn’t quite capable of something like that.

  It was good to have someone prove her wrong again.

  Inclining her head, she stared into his yellow eyes and wondered why she’d ever thought to leave. “I’m glad to hear it, Sultan. But if they try to fight the Earthen folk, they’ll still lose.”

  “Are you willing to wager on that, Sultana
?”

  A voice interrupted them, slicing through the air like a blade. “I don’t know if this is some kind of twisted flirting, or if the two of you are really sick enough to wager on the lives of your own kingdoms.”

  Nadir’s brow lifted again. “You brought Camilla, I see.”

  “I don’t travel without her.”

  “It might be better next time if you travel on your own.” He straightened his shoulders and leaned to the side. “Hello again, Camilla. It’s a pleasure as always.”

  “I wish I could say the same.”

  “You could, if you tried hard enough.”

  Her sister shrugged a dark shoulder. “But that would be a lie. I make it a rule to tell the truth, especially to men who think they’re so much better than they really are.”

  A huff of breath expelled a small flicker of flame and curl of smoke from Nadir’s nose. “Care to test that theory?”

  She’d missed this. The banter between the three of them, the strange way they’d all managed to become a family even though they didn’t trust each other. A wry grin spread across her face and she rolled her eyes. “Enough, you two.”

  Camilla pointed at Nadir, jabbing her finger in the air. “He’s the reason we’re in this mess. It’s his army at our doorstep, and if he’s here then that means somehow, he’s shirking his duties. Again.”

  “Camilla.”

  “What’s he doing in the middle of the desert anyways? He’s out here playing house while the rest of the world is descending into madness. Why aren’t you blaming him for this?”

  “Camilla.” This time, Sigrid said it with a chuckle.

  “No! Don’t say my name like I’m the one who’s out of line here. There’s plenty of reasons to be angry with him and you’re just… hugging him! Like he’s an old friend.”

  Sigrid took one step closer to Nadir. The heat radiating from his body felt right, somehow. She couldn’t describe the way her dragon felt just being near him. It was like she hadn’t realized there was a thunderstorm raging in her head until the moment when silence fell. Just because he existed beside her.

 

‹ Prev