Embers of Passion

by Genna Love

  “Oh no, I'm not a lady.” Zarah tried to sound as convincing as possible as she handed the woman a silver coin.

  The woman glanced at Zarah’s hands. “You're too clean to be anything else. But don't worry, secret’s safe with me.” She winked before heading to the other side of the bar to take the order of two men who just sat down.

  Zarah discreetly watched the scene around her as she sipped her lemonade. The men grew handier with the prostitutes with each drink. On the far side of the room, a group of soldiers played some sort of drinking game. And the men down the bar talked to each other in hushed voices.

  Once Zarah had finished her drink, she set out an extra coin for the barmaid, and exited the inn. This was likely the last time she'd be able to visit before she left Lyria for who knew how long. Possibly forever.

  After she walked a few feet from the building, she looked back one last time. The roof was worn and in desperate need of mending, and one of the shutters was slightly crooked, but she’d miss it. As she was about to turn and make her way back to the tunnel, she saw the men from the other side of the bar step out from the inn.

  One looked right at her and smiled.

  Zarah’s heart quickened as a chill washed over her. It was as if she could sense the evil in him. It was stronger than any feeling she'd ever had.

  “Where are you going, pretty lady?”

  The tunnel entrance was just around the inn’s corner, but she couldn't risk them seeing her use it. Instead, she headed the opposite way, her steps quick. She’d always gone straight from the tunnel to the inn and back, so she didn’t know this area well. The last thing she needed was to find herself in a dead-end or wind up lost.

  “Don't run from us. You'll hurt our feelings.”

  She walked faster, paying attention to small things to help her find her way back. After she rounded a corner, she hurried down a dark alley, pressing her body against a wall in the shadows.

  Zarah held her breath as she heard their footsteps disappear in the distance. Her hands shook as fear she’d never felt bubbled in her center. Once enough time had passed, she walked back toward the street.

  When she turned toward the inn, she bumped into a large, armor-covered body.

  The man grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling backward. His clearly drunk eyes took her in. “What do we have here?”

  “Just hurrying home after tending to my sick grandma,” Zarah lied.

  “It’s a dangerous place for a pretty thing like you.” His grip on her arms tightened.

  “My father is expecting me home.” She wondered if she should scream. Or would that only make it worse? “I need to hurry or he will worry.”

  “A smart father wouldn't let his daughter out at this hour.”

  Zarah stared at his face. The moonlight highlighted the thick scar across his cheek. His hair was short, and he wore a red mark on his shoulder.

  He was part of the city guard.

  If she told him who she was, would he let her go?

  The man released her right arm, moving his fingers to her breast.

  She froze as panic consumed her. In two weeks, she was supposed to be wed, and that wedding would only happen if Prince Marius believed she was a virgin.

  It would be bad enough if this man violated her, but it would be far worse if the Cardasian Prince found out. It would jeopardize the alliance and endanger all the Lyrian people.

  “Please don't,” was the only thing Zarah could think to say.

  But it didn't help. As the guard’s hand trailed lower down her stomach, someone spoke.

  “Leave her alone,” a male said.

  The guard groaned, but pulled his hand from her stomach as he turned to the other man. “This is city business. Leave now or I'll have you arrested.”

  “Let. Her. Go,” the man said again.

  The guard shifted just enough for Zarah to see her protector. He was much younger than the guard. Older than Zarah, but not by much. Perhaps twenty-two, if she had to guess. His chestnut hair was short, but long enough to fall over his forehead. His green, worry-filled eyes looked at her.

  The guard laughed and reached for Zarah again. She saw the lust in his blood-shot eyes and knew he would rape her. As a smile formed on his dirty mouth, something struck him in the side of his face. Something bright.

  The guard cried out and pushed Zarah away from him. Her body flew into the brick of the building behind her, knocking the breath from her lungs as she dropped to the ground.

  The guard grabbed at his cheek, his flesh burned red.

  She watched, her body unmoving.

  The other man ran to her and reached out his hand, a faint orange glow absorbing into his skin. “You need to run.”

  Zarah snapped out of her panic, and reached for his fingers. As their skin touched, a jolt of heat filled her.

  When she was standing, he released her. “Go, now.”

  “Thank you,” she said before lifting her skirt and sprinting away as fast as her legs would carry her.

  If anyone saw her climb into the tunnel, she didn't care. All she knew was that she’d been lucky.

  When she was back in the safety of the castle, her heart rate slowed. She’d been so close to ruining everything. As much as she hated the idea of marrying Prince Marius, the idea of disappointing her family was worse.

  If the other man hadn’t been there…She shuddered at the thought. But how had he saved her?

  However he'd done it, she was grateful.

  She owed the stranger a great debt. One she didn’t know she’d ever get the chance to repay.

  Taariq

  Taariq was an idiot.

  A stupid. Fucking. Idiot.

  He’d lived ten years without using his magic in front of anyone. Stolen from bakers, soldiers, and high-borns alike without once resorting to his gift of fire when someone else might see.

  Now he'd gone and exposed himself. To a city guard, no less.

  While the armor-wearing fucker had been grabbing at his ugly face, Taariq had escaped. But the man had seen him, and unless Taariq planned to spend the rest of his days hiding in the room he rented, his life was now at risk.

  And paying rent would be hard to do if he couldn’t leave to steal any money.

  He could have just kept walking. He wasn't some chivalrous knight sworn to uphold honor, whatever it even was. He was a fucking thief, hardly a beacon of upstanding behavior.

  As he walked by unnoticed by both the woman and the guard, it was as if Taariq could feel her fear. Which was crazy, but something had made him hesitate and use the only weapon he had: fire.

  An ability that had been banned in the Kingdom of Lyria over two centuries ago. As a child, his father taught him about the family gift, always emphasizing the importance of its secrecy.

  Gift. What good was a power he couldn’t use anywhere outside of their house? Taariq might have complained to his father, but he never disobeyed him. Not once had he risked exposure.

  Until last night.

  He’d never felt such a strong sense of intuition, but when he saw the guard violating the woman, rage boiled his blood. Although he wasn’t the most upstanding citizen, he’d never once assaulted a woman. Nor would he ever. Anyone who did was nothing more than a coward.

  If he’d been thinking clearly and less consumed by fury, he could have found another way to save her. Taariq was quick, and if he’d have just provoked the guard, he might have been able to lure him away without exposing his magic. But his head had been anything but calm, and instead of considering the repercussions of his actions, he’d dived in headfirst, fire ablazing.

  One consolation was the burn he’d left on the fucker’s face. Maybe next time he’d think twice about harming an innocent woman on the street.

  The sun had already risen outside when Taariq awoke. Normally, he rose at sunrise, but he’d been so busy cursing himself until finally drifting into slumber, he’d slept in.

  His fire gift kept the blood in his vein
s hot, so he always slept in the nude. The only blanket on his bed was pushed into a pile at his feet. He kicked it away and swung his legs onto the cold, stone floor.

  Someone knocked on his door.

  Taariq slipped on a pair of pants before answering. If the guard had come to collect him, he might as well be clothed. Though, being dragged in as a naked prisoner might make a better show for the people.

  When he opened the door, his landlord Viktor stood outside. Had his belly gotten bigger since the last time he had seen him?

  “Your rent was due yesterday,” Viktor said in his gruffy voice. He always tried to sound mean when he came asking for money, but he couldn’t fool Taariq. Viktor was one of the nicest people he’d ever met, and on the day he’d moved into his room, he vowed never to steal from him no matter how desperate he got.

  “Is it that time already?” Taariq held onto the door and leaned his weight toward it. “I hadn’t realized…”

  Viktor sighed. “I need it by the end of the week. Not a day later.”

  “You’re the best.” Taariq reached out and gave Viktor’s hand a quick squeeze. “Is that a new shirt? It’s a good color on you.”

  “I…” He pulled his hand back and smoothed out the steel blue fabric of his shirt. “Thank you.” He swallowed and met Taariq’s eyes. “Rent by the end of the week.”

  “Maybe even earlier,” Taariq promised.

  He’d actually had all the money he needed to pay for his room until two nights ago when he had a few too many glasses of mead and found his way to the gambling house down the street. Feeling lucky, he hoped he could turn one month’s rent into three. Instead, he’d lost it all.

  Which meant he had a lot of work to do to make the deadline Viktor had given him.

  Zarah

  Visions of lust-filled eyes and flashes of bright orange filled Zarah’s dreams, offering her little sleep. She tossed and turned the entire night, reliving the horrific moment when she thought her innocence would be stolen from her.

  She’d been to that inn over thirty times in the last few years and not once had she come close to being assaulted. But now, with so much on the line, she nearly ruined everything her family had worked for.

  Peace.

  The Lyrians had been fighting the Cardasians for centuries. Brief periods of accord were laced between war after war, each trying to prove once and for all that it was the better kingdom and claim the fertile land north of the kingdoms as its own. No one ever won, not really.

  Lyria had claimed victory in the last major battle when Zarah’s grandfather was king. He’d allowed the Cardasians to use the land but for a cost. A section of the fertile ground would be theirs as long as they paid taxes to the Lyrian crown. Since most of the Cardasian lands were dry and barren, they had little choice but to agree if they wanted to eat. But the last decade had reignited the feud as the Cardasian people grew sick of giving money to rulers that weren’t their own.

  Zarah had spent countless hours studying the history of her people in the lower library, so she knew how important this chance for peace was.

  And if the man would have… She shuddered at the thought of his body in hers. Not only would she have been violated like never before, but if Prince Marius would have learned what her recklessness had caused, he could have called off the marriage.

  A knock on the door pulled Zarah from her thoughts. “Come in.”

  Her handmaiden, Mallory, entered the room, holding a tray of breakfast and tea. “Is everything well, M’lady?” She set the tray on a dresser and pulled open the curtains.

  The morning sun blared into the room, causing Zarah to squint. She hadn’t realized she’d slept in so late. “I’m just nervous for the wedding,” she lied. It was a reasonable feeling for anyone in her position.

  “You will be a beautiful bride.” Mallory picked up the tray and moved it to the seating area by the window. “Now come, eat. You don’t want to be too thin.”

  Zarah laughed as she pulled the blankets from over her legs. “You mean any thinner than I already am.”

  “You are lovely, M’lady.”

  Zarah was tall for a woman, with curves much leaner than the typical man desired. Her sister, on the other hand, was a prime candidate for the male fantasy. Just another reason Aerilyn would make a better bride to Prince Marius. But for once, Zarah was thankful to be the older sister.

  “Would you like me to bring you a dress?” Mallory asked.

  Zarah sipped the tea, inhaling its peppermint flavor. “Please. I’d like the black one with the lace.”

  “Black? Are you sure M’lady.”

  “I’m in mourning for my independence.” She tilted her head and raised her teacup in a toast.

  Her handmaiden resisted a grin. “Very well.”

  Mallory had become her handmaiden two years ago when her last one was with child and had requested to be transferred to the noble nursery. Zarah had been grateful for the change. Mallory was much younger and less serious than her predecessor, which gave Zarah the freedom to be herself. No matter what scandalous words left her mouth or how many dresses she’d torn from climbing trees or riding horses, her new handmaiden had never tattled on her to her mother.

  As Zarah ate a slice of fresh-made bread and jam, her mind drifted back to the previous night. She couldn’t figure out how the stranger had saved her. From what she could tell, he’d had no weapon. But perhaps he pulled out a hidden blade. If that were true, then why did she see the strange orange glow? When his hand had touched hers, her entire body had flooded with heat. A sensation she’d never felt before. Had he been ill with fever? No, that couldn’t be it. A fever that strong would surely have killed him already and it wouldn’t explain why she had experienced the rush of warmth.

  No matter how he’d done it, she wished she could find a way to thank him. He’d saved more than just her honor. She’d remember his green eyes forever, but leaving the castle to search for him was too risky.

  Her handmaiden returned with the dress she requested. “Best hurry, M’lady. Prince Marius is waiting for you in the courtyard with a surprise.”

  “A surprise?” Curiosity pulsed through Zarah. Had he brought her a gift? She never predicted that the prince possessed enough thoughtfulness to do something kind.

  She wouldn’t get her hopes up, but perhaps her mother was right. If Zarah gave him a chance, he might not be the disappointment she feared.

  Zarah lifted her dress as she walked out the front palace doors into the courtyard.

  Puffy white clouds filled the blue sky above as the scent of orange blossoms mingled with the air. Summer brought warm temperatures perfect for blooming, and Zarah always enjoyed the beautiful weather of that time of year. The cold winter months kept her inside too much, but during the summer, she went outside every chance she got, despite her mother’s disapproval.

  Prince Marius waited ahead, his hands folded in front of his torso and a smile on his face. “My princess.” He bowed.

  As Zarah approached, she took in everything behind him. A target had been set up to the side of the stone fountain. Next to the prince was a rack with bows and arrows.

  “Your father informed me of your love for archery. I thought you might enjoy some practice.” As always, he wore his land’s colors, a deep maroon doublet with the golden Cardasian emblem sewed on his chest. His blonde hair fell onto his forehead, shimmering in the sunlight.

  When Zarah reached him, she curtsied, smiling as their eyes met. She hadn’t used a bow in far too long. With the wedding preparations and her mother’s insistence she appear to be a proper lady, she hadn’t dared make the time for the hobby.

  “Please, go ahead.” Marius gestured to the table. “I had the bows shipped from Cardasia.”

  Zarah lifted the lightest-colored bow. The darker grain inside the tan wood was beautiful, accentuated by a perfect sanding. “It’s spectacular.”

  “It’s made from one of the finest elm trees in our kingdom.” Marius stepped toward
her and ran his finger across the wood. “And carved by our best bowyer.”

  He leaned over her, his mouth so close to her ear she could feel the warmth of his breath. Up close, she admired his perfect features. His dewy skin and white teeth would make any woman swoon, not to mention the vibrant color of his blue eyes. She searched his stare for a flicker of kindness, but sensed nothing.

  “Do you enjoy it?” Zarah asked. “Archery.” She tried her best to keep her voice steady, but his proximity caused her nerves to flutter. The last thing she wanted was for him to sense her attraction.

  “I haven’t done much shooting myself, to be honest. Most of my training has been focused on closer combat techniques. My older brother loves to hunt, and he’s done his best to convince me to join him, but I haven’t found the time. Perhaps you would enjoy accompanying him on one of his trips?”

  “I’ve never shot anything more than a target.” Zarah stepped away from the table with the bow she selected. The thought of killing an animal herself caused her stomach to sour. “Archery is a man’s sport here in Lyria, but father could only resist my begging so long and finally provided me with lessons as a child, but it’s only been a hobby.”

  “Women are less confined to social boundaries in Cardasia.” Marius gestured to his servant, who brought Zarah an arrow. “I know our kingdoms have been enemies our entire lives, but it doesn’t mean we have to be.”

  Was this a new side to the Cardasian Prince? His expression still held the arrogance Zarah had always seen, but perhaps there was more to him than she’d initially determined.

  The Cardasian Kingdom spoken of in the texts she read claimed them ruthless and immoral, but those were words of Lyrian history. She could only imagine how her kingdom was portrayed by their people.

  Zarah tilted her head and smiled. “Soon enough, I will see this spectacular place you speak of with my own eyes, won’t I? Then I can decide if your words are true.” She stepped to the side until she was lined up with the target. Carefully, she raised her right arm and aimed the bow. She focused ahead, and as she exhaled a deep breath, she released the arrow.