Page 40 of Bound By Wishes

Once we reached the bottom, he still didn’t relinquish his hold.

“You can put me down now. I promise not to faint,” Isaid, trying to make my tone sound innocent and airy, but it came out as more of a frustrated growl.

Razoul’s hold on me tightened, his fingers digging into my skin. Bile burned the back of my throat as he glared down at me. “Are you telling me what to do, princess?” he demanded, his voice laced with menace.

I was gearing up to tell him exactly what he could do, but people dressed head to toe in black emerged from the hills, their howls echoing across the desert like souls in torment. Their war cries pierced the calm air, mingling with the thundering of hooves and the clatter of weapons as they surged down the hills.

The Canaari workers screamed and began to run for their lives. Razoul tossed me to the ground like a worthless sack of potatoes, drawing his sword as he quickly mounted his horse.

The dark figures, silhouetted against the fading light of the desert sun, gradually came into focus as they approached. Clad in flowing robes that billowed behind them like the wings of desert spirits, they moved swiftly and with purpose, their faces partially obscured by head coverings that shielded them from the blowing sand.

The sharp whiz of bullets sliced through the air, chased by the deafening boom of gunfire that echoed all around. Bullets rained down, each one sinking into the desert sand with a muted thud. The soft earth kicked up small clouds of dust as they struck, scattering grit and pebbles in every direction.

I scrambled to my feet, my breath lodging itself in my throat as they began to slaughter the workers, the guards, and anyone else who was in their way. Everything seemedto be moving in slow-motion, like a horrible nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from.

Razoul rode into battle, his sword a blur of motion as he cut down any who dared challenge him. He and the guards were greatly outnumbered but seemed to be holding them off for the time being.

Razoul was a djinn. Why didn’t he use his powers to stop the marauders? But judging by his skill with a sword, probably from centuries of training, he didn’t need powers. His movements were fluid, deadly, as if the blade itself was merely an extension of him.

A devastating explosion rocked the battlefield. It was a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very bones of the earth. For a moment, everything fell eerily silent, as if the desert itself was holding its breath. Then, with a deafening roar, the ground erupted.

A massive column of sand and debris shot skyward, propelled by the force of the blast. The shockwave spread outward, a powerful and invisible wave of energy that flattened everything in its path.

People and horses were thrown to the ground, their cries of alarm and pain drowned out by the thunderous explosion. I was catapulted through the air, the world whizzing by in a blur of motion. When I finally crashed down, the impact knocked the wind out of me, and the coarse sand scraped and embedded itself in my skin.

My ears rang and my temples pounded as I sat up. A towering figure wrapped in flowing black robes caught my attention, wielding a massive khopesh. The curved sickle-like blade cleaved through men and horses with sickening ease, each strike leaving a wake of death. His booming voicecarried over the commotion, rallying his warriors to press the attack.

I scrambled to my feet as I heard Princess Elenor scream. Spinning around, I saw one of the bandits yanking her up by her long auburn hair, her face twisted in pain. Desperation surged through me as I frantically glanced around for anything I could use as a weapon. My eyes locked onto a shovel half-buried in the sand.

Bullets continued to buzz past me like an angry swarm of bees as I grabbed it and rushed toward the bandit. My grip tightened on the handle as I closed the distance. Everything was a blur as he lifted a blade to her throat. I swung the shovel as hard as I could, the clang of metal meeting his skull vibrating down my arm.

The bandit's grip on Elenor loosened as he staggered, and I readied myself for another strike, determined to protect her at all costs. Relief flooded through me as he fell face down in the sand.

I quickly snatched Elenor to her feet, pulling her behind me as we rushed up a steep dune and as far away from the fighting as possible. The battle raged on below, the sands of the desert becoming stained with blood.

The battle seemed to rage on forever, neither side relenting or retreating. I glanced around, but all the horses had long fled the gruesome scene.

Elenor screamed, but before I could turn, someone grabbed the collar of my dress, the seams ripping as I was slammed to the ground. I didn’t even have time to cry out before a dark figure straddled me, pressing a cold blade to my neck. Something warm pooled in the hollow of my throat where he had punctured my skin.

The large man I had noticed earlier, the one who seemed to be leading the slaughter, stared down at me, his dark eyes boring into mine. His gaze was intense and unyielding, filled with a cold hate that chilled me to the bone.

“Because of your trespass, you will die,” he seethed, pressing the knife deeper into my throat.

Black smoke swirled around us, and the knife at my throat eased as the man glanced around in confusion. Tendrils of smoke wrapped around each of his arms, wrenching him from me and sending him flying across the sands. He landed with a loud thud, then tried to get back up but collapsed, the smoke dissipating as quickly as it had appeared.

A cry ripped from my throat as I glanced around to see the lifeless body of Elenor. The princess laid face up, her throat slit and her once-beautiful forest green eyes wide open in a frozen state of shock.

“Get up,” Ranen roared, but I couldn’t bring myself to stand. My body trembled all over from the sheer violence I had witnessed and the countless lives lost. Despite the intense heat, I felt cold all over as my body went into shock.

Horses thundered over the dune and I gasped, expecting it to be more of the desert bandits. For once, seeing Razoul and what was left of his guards was a relief. Most of them were maimed beyond repair, with missing limbs and blood seeping through their uniforms. Razoul jumped from his horse, rushed to me, and scooped me in his arms.

“Pick up the Princess of Aldori’s body,” he thundered as he situated us on his horse before rushing across the desert.

The last place I wanted to be right now was in the king’s arms, but at the moment, I highly doubted I could stayastride my horse. The speed at which we thundered across the desert made my stomach heave with each jolt of the horse. Desperately, I wished to be in someone else's arms—the one who had saved me moments ago. I couldn’t feel his presence at the moment, which only added to my torment.

I focused on Razoul’s face, my vision blurry. “Who were those people?” I asked in a raspy voice. I had to do something to get my mind off my queasy stomach.

He glanced down at me and then back on the horizon. “Canaari Medjai,” he stated plainly with no further explanation.

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