Still, he was right, and she hated it. She hated her weakness and him for calling it out. “Fine. Teach me how to hunt, then be on your way.”
He regarded her closely, gray eyes assessing her in a way that made her feel entirely too vulnerable.
“All right.”
Zar nearly took off Jamil’s fingers as he tried to feed him an apple. He scowled at the brown stallion. They had been traveling for two weeks now, and the grouchy horse never did that to Soraya. It was just after dawn, the sun’s first rays slowly waking up the world. Soraya was still asleep, though Hadiyah had risen about fifteen minutes ago and silently trudged off to relieve herself.
They were two days from Shahbaad. A strange sort of melancholy had taken hold in his chest these past few days.
Would he ever see Soraya again?He tried not to dwell on it, but the thought of never again hearing the lilting sound of her voice, never feeling the warmth of her bright smile, tore through the sinews of his heart.
He heard Hadiyah’s footsteps approaching. But instead of returning to her bedroll, her footsteps grew louder until she was right behind him.
He swallowed a sigh and faced her. Her features were stony, drawn tight as if it sullied her to even speak with him.
“You are not worthy of her.” Her voice was sharp, a serrated dagger eviscerating him. “Not even worthy of the filthy mud caking her boots.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” He kept a stoic mask, concealing the cutting pain beneath.
“Do you think me a fool?” she hissed, glancing at Soraya’s slumbering form. “I see the way you look at her when you think no one is watching.Iamalwayswatching. And I will die before I lose another daughter to the likes of you. Stay away from her.”
Hadiyah’s words rang through his skull the entire day of travel and long into the night when they made camp.
When Soraya left her place beside her sleeping mother and came to sit with him, even the warmth of her presence couldn’t dispel the chill left by Hadiyah’s icy words.
Not worthy of her.
The likes of you.
Stay away.
“Everything all right?” Soraya asked, jolting him out of his thoughts. “You’ve been quiet today. Well, you’re always quiet, but even more than usual.”
“Yes. Just planning out the journey after Shahbaad.”
She accepted his lie with a quiet hum.
“Why are you helping us?” she asked suddenly. Her dark brown eyes, the color of fresh, earthy soil, were fixed on him. Her gaze drifted to the long, white scar cutting the length of his face from cheekbone to jaw.
He flinched, and she averted her gaze, clearing her throat. “You’re risking your life to take us to Shahbaad. Why?” Her gaze remained fixed on the flames.
“For Zarian.” The half-truth left his lips easily enough. “He needed to get Layna to safety but was worried about leaving you behind.”
“Do you miss the Oasis?”
“No,” he said honestly, this time.
“Is there someone waiting for you? A lover or…?”
His eyes locked with hers, trying to discern the motive behind her question.
“No. I mean, I’ve taken lov—”
“That’s not what I meant,” she said quickly, her face flushing. Her rosy cheeks sent his blood rushing south, his rebellious mind imagining what else might make her blush. “I mean someone you love. Someone you want to get back home to after—after this is over.”
“No one,” he said quietly. “I’ve always taken my vows seriously. No entanglements of the heart.”
Until now.