Page 53 of A Fate in Flames

When she finished, she turned me to face her, her gentle hands settling lightly on my elbows.“Jasila will take you to him.”

I met her gaze with wide-eyes, fear tightening in my chest.She offered a small, fragile smile.

“Bow this time,” she whispered, squeezing my arms once before letting go.

She picked up bits of discarded material from the ground and moved toward the door.

It shut with a dull thud.

All of two seconds later it swung back open with enough force to bang against the wall.I couldn’t even get a minute alone to think, to at least call for Zaheera.Maybe she could’ve told me what to expect, or at least what to do.

Jasila entered, smug as ever.Her eyes gleamed with amusement as she took in my trembling hands and pale face.

She fed on fear.Thrived on it.

“I told you mortal…” Her lips stretched into a predatory smile.“Bow.”

I clenched my fists, nails digging hard enough to leave indentations.I wanted to throw something at her insufferable face—to wipe that smirk away with my own hands.

Jasila savoured every second of my misery.

“Come,” she said, turning on her heel, her dark waves swinging with the movement.“The king awaits.”

Every step I took felt like a challenge, my body physically resisting the path ahead like it understood what my mind refused to accept.

This was my end.

I’m about to die.

Jasila strode ahead, unbothered by my impending doom.If anything, she seemed pleased—her lips curved in anticipation of my suffering.

When we finally reached the imposing double doors, she faced me.That insufferable smirk never leaving her perfect face.

I narrowed my eyes.

I hated her.

Without a word, she pressed both palms flat against the heavy doors.They swung open with ease, revealing the throne room.With an infuriating tilt of her head, she motioned for me to enter.

I passed the threshold alone, my heartbeat a war drum in my chest.Behind me, the doors slammed shut with a thunderous crack that reverberated through the hall, through my body, and through my very soul.The echo chased itself around the chamber, announcing my arrival to its sole occupant.Sealing my fate like the closing of a tomb.

I took a single step forward and my legs buckled.A wave of energy pressed down—not just around me, butintome.

The throne room stretched impossibly large, sunlight streaming through the massive circular opening overhead.The floors gleamed like they had been polished by the weight of those who had knelt before him.

And there he was.

Seated upon his throne, bathed in golden light.The king of the Jinn.

There were no guards.No one to bear witness.

No one to protect me.

Dark, loose fabric was draped over his powerful form, the rich material doing little to conceal the sculpted muscle beneath.His legs were spread in a display of effortless dominance, one arm draped casually over the throne’s arm while his fingers tapped a slow, lazy rhythm.A sound that carried across the cavernous space, marking time like the countdown to my doom.

His eyes locked onto mine—dark as the abyss, boundless and ancient—and my heart raced uncontrollably.A flush crept up my neck as panic set in, heat blooming across my skin.

I didn’t know what to do—my mind fracturing into a thousand useless thoughts.