Page 72 of Bound By Wishes

Malik glanced at me, and I shook my head, the motion making the world tilt around me. Malik exhaled before plunging ahead with the explanation that I would have rather kept secret. “Mathew Henderson is one of the biggest benefactors of our museums,” Malik explained without looking at me. Embarrassment burned my checks, or maybe it was the fever. “He attacked Cal one night when she was working late at the museum.”

“Did he violate her?” Ranen asked, his voice a thunderous growl, vibrating with raw, uncontainable rage.

I flinched at his question.

“No,” Malik answered. “But he would have if I hadn’t been there to stop him. He beat her up pretty badly.”

Ranen slowly walked toward me, his eyes softening as he bent down before me. “Can I pick you up?” he asked, his tone still saturated with anger.

I nodded once, and he scooped me up in his arms and placed me back on the bed. His fingers trailed gently down my cheek and across my jaw, his touch like ice against my feverish skin.

"I’m sorry, sayyida," he murmured, his voice so soft that it was barely more than a whisper. The quiet sorrow in his words lingered in the air. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there then to put an end to that man’s worthless life and sorry that I can’t save you from it now.”

“It’s okay,” I promised, though my voice cracked like broken glass. “I refuse to be scared. Not while you’re here.” With shaky determination, I pushed myself into a sitting position, needing to look into his dark, intense eyes. “If it comes to it,” I continued, “I’ll draw my last breath while kissing you.”

Ranen's brow arched, and that irresistible smirk I was becoming fond of tilted his lips. "Kissing me? I thought you told me never to do that again," he teased, a playful glint dancing in his eyes despite the grim situation.

I eased back into the fluffy pillows, the conversation draining the last of my energy. “Might as well go out with a bang,” I whispered, offering him a tired smile.

Ranen watched me for what felt like an eternity, a silent war raging in his eyes. Finally, he broke the drawn-outsilence. “I’ll kiss you, ya amar, but not until you’re better,” he said, his voice sharp like a double-edged sword.

His words confused me. He had just told me there was no getting better, not after the Nightshade had sunk her claws into me. But before I could ask for an explanation, he stood, gathered me into his arms, and held me against his chest as if I were his most precious possession. Without another word, he stormed toward the door.

“What are you doing?” Malik called out in a panic from behind us. “Where are you taking her?”

Ranen didn’t respond to Malik’s frantic calls. The world around me spun, and Ranen’s face twisted into Mathew’s. My muscles froze, a tremor running through me as fear gripped my body.

“Close your eyes, ya amar, and listen to the sound of my voice,” Ranen purred. I slammed my eyes closed, trying hard to fight the persuasion of the poison. “I am not him, nor will I ever be. You are safe with me.”

I took a deep breath, and Ranen’s masculine, smoky scent enveloped me. I peeked up at him, relieved to see that the image of Mathew had finally vanished. Ranen’s face was a mask of steely determination, his brow furrowed in a fierce scowl. With a powerful kick, he booted the door to my bedchamber open, the crash reverberating through the room and causing the walls to tremble.

Outside, the two guards sprang into action, drawing their swords. I flinched, bracing for the death blow, but Ranen’s dark magic erupted with unrelenting fury. It crackled in the air, a storm of smoke that surged toward the guards. In an instant, they were consumed by the darkmagic, reduced to nothing but heaps of charred black sand that swirled around the doorway and crunched beneath Ranen’s boots as he continued forward.

I clung to him, as though he were my only anchor in a raging storm, while he barreled down the corridor. More guards emerged from around the corner, each contorting to look like Mathew. I whimpered, my hold around Ranen’s neck tightening. One by one they fell, each struck by his magic and reduced to ashy grit that scattered across the white marble.

A deep fear gnawed at my insides. I had never seen Ranen like this. His fury was horrifying, a restless force of destruction that swept everything in his path aside. His eyes, usually so calm and controlled, now simmered with an intensity that made even the air around him seem to quiver.

I cast a worried glance over his shoulder and saw Malik struggling to keep up, his face a mask of horror as he navigated through the carnage. The hallway was a scene of chaos, the once orderly environment now littered with the remains of the guards and the eerie charge of dark magic that hissed through the air.

Fear swallowed me whole and spit me back out as Ranen stormed into the throne room. The guards inside recoiled, too intimidated to approach the relentless force that was Ranen. A fleeting expression of shock mingled with fear crossed Razoul’s face before he quickly composed himself, his expression hardening into a mask of calculated control.

“You are a constant thorn in my side, big brother,” Razoul sneered, sitting up straighter on his throne, his posture brimming with disdain. “I should have known that when she wished you back into that cave, her true intentionwas to set you free again.” His fingers absently played with the intricate patterns of his tunic as if he were bored. “But honestly,” he continued, his gaze icy, “I didn’t think she was that cunning.”

Ranen’s grip on me tightened painfully, a clear warning of the seething anger barely contained beneath his exterior. His voice was a low, dangerous growl as he demanded, “Where…is…she?” He spat out each word, as though each syllable was a bitter poison on his tongue. Every muscle of his rigid frame tightened with fury.

“Where’s who?” Razoul smirked, a trace of mocking playfulness in his voice that seemed absurdly out of place given the severity of Ranen’s anger.

Tendrils of Ranen’s smoky magic unfurled, brushing against my skin with a chilling, almost sensual touch. I froze, my breath catching as the dark wisps coiled and slithered through the room, filling the air with an eerie tension. “I will not ask you again,” Ranen warned.

Razoul stood, but before he could utter a word, the shadows along the walls converged into a nightmarish silhouette of skin and bones. The Nightshade emerged from the darkened folds, stepping into the light with a chilling grace.

Fear surged through my veins, making me tremble. Ranen tightened his hold, pulling me closer to his chest. “Cure her,” he demanded.

The Nightshade’s gaze swept over me before a menacing smile twisted across her decaying features. Shadows seemed to cling to her as she stepped closer, hinting at the evil that lurked behind her hollow eyes.

“You are lowering yourself before me, asking for the lifeof this filthy Canaari spawn to be spared?” she asked, her voice grating against my nerves like the rasp of iron on stone.

Ranen’s eyes remained locked on the Nightshade. Razoul shifted uneasily, the earlier smugness fading from his face.

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