Running Wild

by Lucinda Betts

  “Capable?”

  “Yes, capable. What does the Sultan believe about his daughter, thanks to your rotten tongue? What do you know to be the truth?” The magician morphed into her male form. Her small breasts gave way to a wiry chest, and her face lost that soft look. Her long gold hair didn’t fall out, but it changed to short, dark stubble. And he smiled, something lascivious and threatening. “I granted your heart’s desire,” Badr said to the Raj. “Now you must grant mine.”

  “Yours?”

  “Yes,” Badr said, walking toward the Raj with all the coiled power of a tiger. Badr grabbed the Raj’s cock over his loose clothing. “You liked our trysts. You loved them.”

  “That’s not—” Tahir saw the abashed expression on the man’s face, and he realized this supposed ruler had sacrificed Shahrazad’s reputation to save his own. He would have seen Shahrazad’s head on the Pike Wall for his selfishness—just as Badra had predicted. “You’ll get me beheaded, you perverted creature. You were never my heart’s desire.”

  The magician looked down at the hardened cock. “And the people of your land name me the queen of lies.” She pushed him away. “You’re too weak to take my place.” Badr morphed back into feminine form. Tahir realized that this woman’s form must be the magician’s true form—if such a thing existed.

  Come to me, he heard in his mind. The voice was faint—but clear. And it sent that fear through him. What would happen if he killed the magician? Would the demons vanish with her? He didn’t think so.

  In fact, he was beginning to believe the words he’d read in the ancient tomes.

  “And you?” the magician demanded, pointing her finger at the Sultan. Like the Raj, invisible hands seemed to lift him, speed him toward his daughter, and dump him in the sand.

  “What rule did you break to get your tattoo, father?” Shahrazad asked. “I’ve been wondering since I learned of it. Have you done something that would land your head on the Pike Wall as I have? Did you seek forgiveness and understanding, or did you try to hide it? Did you earn that tattoo in a rush of selfishness, or did your heart long for—”

  “Silence, daughter!” The Sultan might have seemed more intimidating if fine grains of pale sand weren’t plastered to his forehead and his white turban wasn’t stained and askew. “You’ve no right to question your father!”

  “But she’s earned the privilege,” the magician said. “Every sacrifice she’s made, she’s made for you, for the Land of the Moon.”

  But the princess just shook her head. “I don’t want to know. It’s enough to know he has the tattoo. Not even he lives up to the perfection he expects in others.”

  “Sultan!” Badra demanded of the man. “Will you save this land you claim to love? Will you give your life for it?”

  The Sultan spat in the sand at the magician’s feet.

  “You reject me although you’ve been exposed to all your soldiers, to your daughter, to the rulers of the Land of the Sun, as a fraud, as a hypocrite?” The Sultan spat again.

  “How could either of you be worthy?” Badra said. “Neither of you volunteered for this; neither of you came willingly. Which brings me to Queen Kalila,” the magician said. “She has a snake on her skin, and she came to me willingly.” The magician nodded, the rising moon casting odd shadows across the planes of her cheeks. With a flip of her cape, Kalila flew through the air.

  She landed in the sand at her feet with a thump. At first Tahir thought his sister was dead, and his thoughts flew to his mother. Her heart would be broken.

  “Kalila,” he said, squatting to touch her shoulders. “Kalila!”

  But she lived. “Where am I?” she asked.

  “At the magician’s reckoning,” Shahrazad said.

  “Will you replace me?” the magician demanded of her, her voice ringing over the sand. “Among those here, you’re the one who knows my work the best. And you are a queen among manipulators—we can ask your mother about that.”

  “I—” Kalila started to say. Tahir knew she couldn’t agree to any leadership role, especially one that would last hundreds of years. Well, she might agree to it, but the world might live to regret her largess.

  “Stop.” Shahrazad spoke the word so softly that Tahir was surprised the magician heard. But she did.

  “Do you have something to say, Princess?”

  “Stop. You’re destroying these people, making them face the things they hate the most about themselves.” Her honeyed skin glowed in the moonbeams, and her expression was bleak. “I will do it. I will take your place. I will guard the land against the shitani when they next invade. I know them and loathe them. I will accept this task—if God will hold me in his eyes.”

  “You cannot do this, Princess Shahrazad,” the Sultan said in the most commanding voice Tahir had ever heard. “I forbid it absolutely.”

  But she just shook her head, pulling out the gold tips binding her braids. “I renounce you, father.”

  Never had a woman seemed more beautiful to him. And it wasn’t her hair or her skin or her breasts and thighs—although all those things delighted him. It was her courage that caught his heart and refused to let go. She shied away from no hard choice, even when it cost her.

  “Is it that easy for you, Princess Shahrazad of the Land of the Moon? To give up your life and walk away?” the Sultan asked, his voice gentler now. Tahir had never seen him appear more fatherly than he did now, but it was too little. And it was too late. The princess had needed a dependable father yesterday, and instead the Sultan had locked her away.

  Shahrazad looked at her father. “Yes.” Her voice was as bleak as her expression. “It is that easy.”

  “Daughter,” he said, his tone pleading. “Don’t do this.”

  “Shall I stay, then? Let my head join those of the other disobedient women on the Pike Wall?”

  “Perhaps I was too hasty. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

  Shahrazad walked toward him, took his hands in hers. “That may be, but there is no place for me in your life any longer. You’ve forsaken me.”

  “I forsake you no longer.” He turned toward the crowd. “I love my daughter.”

  “And I love you, but I must go.” She turned toward the magician without looking back. “Will you accept me?” she asked. “I’ll bring honor and truth to this role. No more tricks. No more manipulations to meet dark needs.” She looked at the magician, her face calm. “Will you accept me?”

  In that moment, Tahir realized that Shahrazad—his princess—was leaving. He’d thought…Well, he thought the Sultan would forbid her. But instead she’d followed her heart.

  Could he do less?

  “Princess Shahrazad,” he called to her back. “Princess!”

  She paused and turned toward him. A slight night breeze caught her purple silk and rippled it over her lush curves.

  “I’d accompany you, if you’d have me.”

  She looked at him like she’d never seen him before.

  “Let me share this burden,” he told her. “We’ll rule side by side, man and woman equally.”

  Queen Kalila stood, perhaps finally understanding the situation. “Mother and I will send you unwanted boy children.” She looked at the princess’s father and said, “And perhaps you could send your unwanted women to your daughter rather than decorating your Pike Wall with their heads.”

  Shahrazad looked to the magician. “Shall we go?”

  But the magician just threw back her head and laughed, the white moon gleaming off her long neck. “As if it is in my hands.”

  A dust devil blew into the corpse-ridden area. Inexorably it swirled toward the princess, who stood expressionless, accepting her fate.

  As the dust devil approached her, he heard his sister cry, “My snake!” In the pale light, Tahir didn’t quite trust his vision. A snake slithered over his sister’s forearm and tumbled into the sand. It squirmed away into the darkness. Next to him, the Raj and the Sultan were shouting and writhing as their tattoos came to life
and deserted them.

  Suddenly the tattoo on his face started to burn. Tahir realized the snake was coming to life. He looked toward his princess and realized she wasn’t struggling. Her snake, like the magician’s, remained in place. She was stepping calmly toward the dust devil.

  “No!” he cried, knowing the woman who completed his heart was leaving him behind. “No!”

  He vaulted toward the dust devil, damning the consequences. He would not remain behind, not without Shahrazad.

  But he was too late! Swirling sand coated his teeth as his arms reached for the maelstrom. He reached for her but felt nothing, nothing but sand.

  “No!” he called. “Shahrazad, no!”

  But the concentrated sandstorm sucked him into it—and thrashed him to oblivion.

  18

  He woke without moving; his eyes barely opened. But when they focused, they focused on her. She was sitting in a chair next to him, reading a book.

  Golden sunlight poured through an unfamiliar window and bathed her in its light. Her skin reminded him of the richest honey, and a nimbus of black hair billowed past her shoulders. When had she taken out her braids? Was it an act of defiance against her father?

  But it wasn’t defiance he saw on her expression now. Now he saw peace. Now he saw just how kissable her lips were, and how serious her rested expression was.

  This woman was not someone to take lightly.

  But he’d already known that.

  “You’re awake,” she said, turning those amber eyes toward him. Her thick dark lashes made him long to kiss her, feel their feathery texture under his lips.

  “I’m awake.” He looked around the bed in which he found himself. It was decadent and comfortable. Suddenly he realized he felt fantastic. His wounds were gone, his bruises vanished. He felt like he’d been fed a sumptuous feast, bathed, then curled up in the presence of the most outstanding beauty. “Where are we?” he asked. “Why do I feel so damned good?”

  She held up her book. “I’m just reading about that. It seems we’re in the abandoned palace that we flew over.”

  “That’s the—” He sat up. “Is that the book we sought in the library?”

  “It’s the missing spellbook. Badra gave it to me before she left.”

  She left? He wanted to know more about that, but a more urgent question presented itself. “And the shitani?”

  “Badra and I pushed them back into their caves.”

  “Without me?”

  “I needed to convince her that two would be more suitable to replace her than one.”

  He swallowed, understanding her implication. He’d won her heart. “Will…your spell hold them?” All he wanted to tell her, and that was the best he could come up with?

  “For a short period,” she said. Then she flashed him a grin. “We’ll have a chance to see how well we work together.”

  “Shahrazad,” he said, searching for the words to seduce her. Not her body, but her mind. “Shahrazad, I—”

  Suddenly the room hummed, and she smiled at him.

  His cock throbbed. “Do you feel that?” he asked. “What is that strange vitality?”

  “I feel it.” She nodded. “That is immortality—our immortality.”

  “It’s just us here, then?” he said with a roguish grin. “No husbands-to-be? No fathers?”

  “No queens to tell you whom to impregnate? No sisters who vanish when you need them most?” She looked at him, her amber eyes burning into his. “It’s just us.”

  He smiled then. “Are you ready to start this new world? One of justice and equality?”

  The tension she’d been holding in her shoulders vanished. A small smile curled her lips, and he realized her smile transformed her into the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “I am.”

  “Then might I suggest a place to start?” He reached for her and pulled her into the bed with him.

  “Are you going to order me to obey if I object?” she asked.

  Tahir leaned so close she could see the fall of his lashes against his cheek. The scales on his snake tattoo glittered in the sunlight, making him look dangerous…and delicious. The length of his dark hair threw his face into shadows. “I’d rather seduce you,” he said. And his husky voice made his intent all the more clear. “I’d rather seduce you, but I won’t.”

  Her heart paused for a minute. “What do you mean?”

  Tahir took her hand in his and stepped from the bed. “Princess Shahrazad,” he said, falling to one knee. “For your entire life, you’ve been forbidden to make important decisions, but I’m laying one at your feet.”

  “And what is that?” she asked, fear making her heart pound crazily.

  “Do you choose me? We have tens of lifetimes to spend together, but if you wish I will leave. If you crave freedom and independence, I will leave. Should you change your mind, find me, and I’m yours to command, but I refuse to be foisted upon you by the magician—or my own stubbornness. You are capable of living here without a male ruler.”

  “I’ve fought to bring you here,” she said. “Are you asking me if I want you?”

  He looked up at her, his dark eyes shining. “Yes, my princess, that is exactly what I’m asking you.”

  As his words heated her core, she looked up at the golden light pouring in the window. Now she understood something—she’d been made to yield to the Flower Taker; she was sent to her bed without being asked for an opinion. The Raj ir Adham had been foisted upon her, too. Even having Tahir here with her now had been foisted on her. When he’d flung himself into the dust devil, he would have died—if she hadn’t convinced the magician to use the last of her prana to bring him here.

  But now, she had a choice. And she knew what she wanted.

  “I want you,” she said. And she did. Her lips remembered the taste of his. Her tongue remembered the velvet of his, and she craved another lick, another nibble. “And if I want to seduce you?” she asked.

  “You already have. My heart and soul have been yours since before we met. In your hands I’m helpless. In the moonlight and in the sunlight, I am your slave.”

  She wanted him to touch her, to show her. She knew it was right. “You want me,” she said to Tahir. It wasn’t a question.

  “Your heart has captured me. Your loyalty to your family, your willingness to sacrifice.”

  Shahrazad realized that this man, this prince, saw her for who she truly was—and liked her. No, he loved her. He melted her very soul. She leaned toward his face, letting a wicked grin dance over her lips. “Then kiss me.”

  Tahir stood and gently pulled her body to his. Her arms met his, embraced him in return, pulling him toward her, feeling him along the length of her body.

  Where the Flower Taker’s body had been soft and giving, his was hard muscled and unyielding. His was strength itself.

  His eyes locked on hers, asking permission. Can I kiss you?

  Oh yes.

  He lightly touched his lips to hers, almost as softly as the Flower Taker had done. With a brush of tongue, he took her mouth with his. He tasted real—like strength and like truth. He paused his tongue on her lips.

  Tentatively, she touched him.

  Then, he sucked her in, sliding his tongue over hers. His kiss was truly as good, as enveloping, as she remembered. Her lips sought his, wanting to drink his strength. She gave her mouth to him. She caressed him with her tongue. She gave him her breasts, her nipples. Use me as you will, her body said to his, and his agreed.

  With deliberate hands, he unbuttoned her bodice, letting the backs of his fingers caress her midriff. Slipping his hand inside the silk, he brushed an erect nipple. With the side of his hand, he tantalized her areola. Then, sliding the bodice off her shoulders, he nuzzled his head between her breasts before grabbing a nipple between his teeth.

  She lost her ability to breathe. Who was this woman she’d become? Who had she been when she sought Tahir’s heat in the Flower Taker’s chamber? Shahrazad arched her back, offering him her b
reasts. Her heart.

  He traced her erect nipple, nibbling, and she moaned in pleasure. A direct connection existed between his tongue and her core. They pulsed in the same rhythm to the tempo of his tongue.

  Under his hands, the remainder of her clothing melted away, leaving her naked in the golden sunlight washing through the oversized window.

  For a moment, he looked at her, admiration clear in his expression. “You’re breathtaking.”

  “Come to me, then.”

  And he did, quick as lightning in the summer sky and just as hot. Their bodies pressed up hard against each other, their hips moving in tandem. Shahrazad sighed to feel his thickness through his clothes. His hardness and her wetness reflected the power of their desire for each other.

  Her night with the Flower Taker had given her confidence in her beauty, in her desirability. But she hadn’t been able to see his expression, covered as he’d been in demon spit. Now, when she saw the heat in his eyes, his consuming desire to have her, her confidence became unshakable.

  “Remove your clothes, Tahir.”

  “Already you order me around.” He laughed, but he unbuttoned his loose white shirt. “Are you secretly from the Land of the Sun?”

  “Perhaps.” She laughed. “But you can tell me to stop. You commanded the Warqueens and my father’s soldiers like you were born to it.”

  He stood and removed his trousers. Shahrazad sat back down on the bed, savoring the sight of his naked body gleaming in the sunbeams.

  He walked toward her and wrapped her in his arms. “I’ll never hurt you.”

  Shahrazad looked up at him, her prince, and drank in his features. The snake tattoo that marked him as the one of the two magicians suited him, warned that he was dangerous. His hawk eyes were kind now, not fierce, and the dark planes of his face begged to be traced by her lips.

  But it was the depth of his eyes that called to her—that won her heart.

  He brought his head down and kissed her. Not hungrily like his previous kisses. This kiss was loving, filled with promise.

  Against her stomach Shahrazad became aware of his throbbing erection. The tip of his cock glistened.

  “Every part of me wants you,” he said, following her gaze.