The Wrath and the Dawn

It was because I swore I would never say it, and a man is nothing if he can’t keep his promises.

So I write it to the sky—

I love you, a thousand times over. And I will never apologize for it.

Something is rare and desirable when it is made to seem so.

“You can’t foresee the future. And there’s nothing you can do about the past.”

“You’re wrong. I can learn from it . . .”

Love is a force unto itself, sayyidi. For love, people consider the unthinkable . . . and often achieve the impossible. I would not sneer at its power.

. “You must love her a great deal, Khalid-jan.”

After a beat, Khalid lowered his sword, his brow marred by pain and consternation. “Love is—a shade of what I feel.”

“You must love her a great deal, Khalid-jan.”

After a beat, Khalid lowered his sword, his brow marred by pain and consternation. “Love is—a shade of what I feel.”

“How right you are. You are not mine.” He dropped his palm from the door. “I am yours.”

“Is that kind of disrespect . . . normal?”

Shahrzad lifted a shoulder. “It’s not normal. But it’s not unexpected. It’s the curse of being a woman,” she joked in a morose manner.

“Shazi.”

A suggestion of a smile played across his lips.

“Shazi. It suits you.”

Khalid was beside her in a few long strides, pressing his hand to the ebony door. Preventing her from leaving.

“What do you want me to do?” he said in a low voice.

She did not look up, though her heart thrummed in her throat. “Prove that a real man doesn’t make a show of what’s his. It just is.”

“Is it? Are you mine?” Khalid asked with quiet solemnity.

Her conviction wavered further. “I told you; don’t try to own me.”

“I don’t want to own you.”

She swiveled her neck to meet his gaze. “Then never speak of sending me away again. I am not yours to do with as you will.”

Khalid’s features smoothed knowingly. “How right you are. You are not mine.” He dropped his palm from the door. “I am yours.”