Page 66 of Bound By Wishes

I softened my tone, just a fraction. “I may not have seen what you have, but I’ve faced enough darkness to recognize it in others. She’s not broken, Malik, she’s forged. And that kind of strength, once tempered, is unbreakable.”

The air between us was tense and charged with testosterone. I didn’t know what Caleena had been through, but Malik’s protective anger told me it must have been something substantial. I had already deduced that it had something to do with a man by the way she shied away from them. My curiosity gnawed at me, and despite the tension, I couldn’t keep the question from slipping out. “What happened to her?”

“It’s not my place to tell you her business,” Malik replied. “Just know that if she’s placing even an ounce of trust in you, it means more than you can imagine.”

Something about his words made my chest buzz with an unexpected intensity. I had to resist the urge to lift my hand and press it to try and quell the disturbing feeling. Malik retreated to the other side of the tent without another word. He settled onto one of the pillows, making himself comfortable for the night, the tension between us settling into a quiet mutual dislike.

Caleena walked in a few moments later in the silken pajamas I had laid out for her. Her dark hair hung in damp tendrils around her shoulders, glistening with droplets of water that caught the soft moonlight. She chose a spot closest to the fire and made herself comfortable.

Caleena shifted, her gaze meeting mine. There was a hint of something unreadable in her eyes before she turnedback over. The brief contact left me unsettled. I was so in tune with her that I could sense something was troubling her. She sat up, biting her lower lip in that irresistibly innocent way.

“Can the Nightshade still invade my dreams, even without its powers?” she asked, her tone tinged in fear.

I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and cradle her until she fell asleep, but I leaned into my pillow instead, propping my hands behind my head with my fingers entwined so I could watch her all night. “Don’t worry, sayyida. No one is going to touch you in this world or in the land of dreams. Not while I’m around.”

Islept like a baby after Ranen had promised that nothing would touch me in either this world or the dream world. Easing up from my pillow, I wasn’t shocked to find Ranen’s dark magic swirling around the dome, weaving a barrier to protect us. The smoky currents moved with a hypnotizing grace, reinforcing the sanctuary he had promised.

Ranen’s dark gaze collided with mine and held it there for what felt like an eternity. It was as though the world around us faded, filled with unspoken words that needed to be said, but we were both too stubborn to yield. His mysterious eyes seemed to pierce through my very soul. I didn’t like that he could read me so easily, as if he could see the fears and doubts I tried to hide. It made me feel vulnerable, and that was a sensation I despised.

Malik stirred, breaking the trance that Ranen had me under, and I scrambled to my feet. Ranen stood and turnedhis back to me, stretching with a lethal grace that once again ensnared my attention. The muscles in his back rippled, each movement a silent display of power and control, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I swallowed hard, heat creeping up my neck as I realized I was staring. I needed a cold shower.

"What’s for breakfast, genie boy?" Malik taunted.

I froze, my heart flopping in my chest. Poking someone like Ranen was not wise, especially when I had witnessed him reduce people to piles of black sand in mere seconds. The air seemed to crackle with tension as I silently questioned Malik’s sanity. Why on earth was he jabbing the big, bad genie?

Ranen turned slowly, his gaze locking onto Malik’s with the force of a sledgehammer. Blood drained from my face as the tension thickened. Ranen’s lips curled into a wicked smile, revealing the sharp gleam of his white teeth. The malice in his eyes was unmistakable, and I braced myself for what might happen next.

I quickly stepped between the two of them, my pulse racing as Ranen’s intense gaze shifted to me. I silently pleaded with him, begging him not to hurt Malik. To my relief, the hard edge in Ranen’s eyes softened. Without a word, he turned his attention to the table, his smoky magic swirling around to cook up a delectable breakfast. My mouth watered as the air filled with the rich aroma of the meal.

“I hope this is to your liking,” Ranen growled, stepping out of the dome and into the bright morning sun.

I turned to Malik with a scowl. “Do you have a death wish?” I hissed, the irritation in my voice barely contained.

Malik shrugged innocently. “What? I don’t trust him. Have you seen the way he's been eyeing the staff?”

The way Ranen’s gaze lingered on the staff hadn’t escaped my attention, and it stirred a chill within me. But what would he gain from it, and what kind of powers did it truly have? I hated that I was questioning his intentions when everything he’d done so far had been trustworthy. He was simply a man wronged by his brother, wanting his kingdom back and his djinn powers restored. But something in his eyes made me hesitate, made me wonder if retrieving the staff had been the right choice. The Canaari Medjai certainly weren’t pleased. I wished I could sit down with them and find what they knew.

Worry gnawed at me from the inside, but I forced myself to focus on my breakfast. I helped myself to a bowl of creamy yogurt raita, its sweetness paired with dates and ripe fruit. A small smile tugged at my lips as I reached for the steaming cup of rich, dark coffee. Ranen definitely knew what I liked.

Once we finished our breakfast, Malik and I stepped outside to join Ranen. The desert in the early morning was calm, bathed in the soft, golden light of dawn. The cool air was crisp and refreshing, and the sand shifted beneath my bare feet. The sky above was a delicate blend of pastel colors, stretching endlessly and kissing the horizon. I exhaled, wishing that we could remain in this moment a little longer instead of facing what was ahead of us. Part of me wanted to run from it all, to forget this nightmare. But the Nightshade was loose in the world because of me, and it was my responsibility to make it right.

The dome we had slept in faded into the desertlandscape. Ranen turned to me, his silhouette outlined against the backdrop of the sunlit dunes. “Are you ready, sayyida?” he asked.

A persistent gnawing in my gut warned me that if I entered the palace again, I might not make it out in one piece, or at all. I swallowed hard, forcing the lump in my throat down. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, tightening my grip on the staff. “But I can’t go in silky pajamas.”

Ranen stepped back as he slowly scanned me from head to toe. The intense scrutiny made my cheeks flush with heat.

“I think you need to put me back in the same clothes I wore that day,” I suggested, shifting uneasily. “That way, Razoul might suspect I haven’t gotten very far.”

Ranen nodded in agreement as his magic surrounded me. It was both cool and comforting as it caressed my bare limbs, causing my breath to hitch. When it finally dissolved, I found myself dressed in the same ruby-red crop top and harem pants I had worn that day. But Ranen had added a touch of drama, with a few deliberate rips and smudges of dirt and dust, giving the outfit an even more disheveled look.

“And for you,” Ranen said, turning his attention to Malik. “A weary traveler will do nicely.” Malik was swallowed up by Ranen’s dark smoky magic. The force of it spun Malik around, the violent twisting very different from the calm transformation I had experienced.

Malik stumbled and fell to his hands and knees as Ranen’s magic released him. He took a moment to regain his balance, then slowly stood, brushing the sand from his palms with a frustrated growl.

Malik’s new attire perfectly suited a nomad with a loose,flowing tunic in earthy tones of beige and brown, cinched at the waist with a wide weathered belt. He wore sand-colored trousers that tapered at the ankles and sturdy leather sandals. A scarf wrapped around his head and neck, offering protection from the sun and sand along with a dark-brown cloak.

A horse appeared next, tossing its head and nickering as if it were agitated with being summoned. While it wasn’t as grand as the palace steeds I’d been riding recently, it had sturdy haunches well-suited for desert life.

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