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Page 18 of Bound by Wishes (Enchanted Deceptions #1)

I hated that Ranen’s simple compliment had me smiling like a lovesick schoolgirl. I tried to ignore him and his overbearing presence as the horses trotted across the desert. The sands shifted beneath the horses' hooves, but they seemed well-accustomed to the ever-changing terrain.

The heat was intense at this time of day, creating mirages that shimmered on the horizon. Had Razoul purposely chosen the hottest part of the day for our ride to further antagonize us? Not that I had to worry about him selecting me after I made him look like a fool by uncovering the sand spurs he’d placed under the horses’ saddles to make them unruly. I could’ve scratched his eyes out for putting those poor animals through such torture, and I had a good mind to still do it.

I shoved my anger down, trying to be on my best behavior. Just a little longer and this would all be over. I would find that book tonight and be back to my normal life in no time. I would never think of that aggravating gorgeous genie or the way his kiss made my body tingle all over ever again. The memory of it made heat rise to my face.

I tugged at the bodice of my tight dress, desperately trying to let in a bit of air. The heavy fabric clung to me, sticking to me like a sweaty second skin.

“A little warm, sayyida?” Ranen’s smoky voice whispered in my mind, causing goosebumps to erupt across my skin despite the heat.

I lowered my hand back to the pommel of the saddle. “Don’t concern yourself with me,” I quietly snarled.

“Believe me, I’m trying,” Ranen grumbled. His tone was coated with animosity and hints of anger, but his words stirred a different sensation within me.

I bit back my response when I noticed Razoul pull his horse’s reins, making the horse stall until I reached his side. His shift in position brought hostile glares from the other candidates in my direction.

Razoul glanced at me, and I swallowed my mounting nerves as his gaze ran down the length of my body. “That was clever of you to discover the burrs under the saddles,” he admitted.

I pressed my lips into a thin line to keep from calling him all the despicable names that were running through my mind. The effort it took to remain silent was almost unbearable, every muscle in my face taut. Razoul must have noticed because a sly grin spread across his face. He seemed to relish the power he held over me, enjoying my struggle to maintain composure .

“The woman I choose needs to be clever but also needs to know her place,” he continued with a subtle warning.

His words enticed my anger and loosened my tongue that I was trying so desperately to control. “It seems to me that you and the princess of Drakoria are a perfect match then,” I said, adding venom into my words. “She took your hoax in stride and said nothing.”

Razoul’s gaze darkened. “You do not wish to be the queen?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

Be smart. He’s a clever djinn and is setting a trap for you. Don’t say something stupid. But I didn’t heed my warning. "Of course I do" should have been my answer, but those weren't the words that tumbled from my lips. "Not if I can help it,” I hissed, nudging the mare in her sides, making her pick up the pace to put as much distance between Razoul and me as possible.

The air stirred around me, and it wasn't just the humid breeze. It shifted with a commanding presence that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Don’t you say a word,” I warned Ranen.

“I had no intention, sayyida,” he rumbled in my head.

My mare was the first to reach the top of a high dune, and I pulled her to a halt as I looked down over the horrid dig site. My stomach churned at the scene, a flood of emotions resurfacing. I had hoped never to lay eyes on this place again. Not unless I was coming to free them, which I was not.

The rest of the brigade joined me on the hill’s crest.

“It’s amazing,” the princess of Drakoria gasped.

“There is nothing amazing about tyranny,” I growled, trying not to choke on unshed tears. There had to be at least double the amount of workers than were here the last time.

Razoul stopped beside me. My grip on the reins tightened until my knuckles blanched white under the pressure. Every muscle in my body trembled with hot rage, and a fierce urge rose within me to leap on him and unleash my anger in a flurry of blows.

“What do you think, Princess Soraya?” he goaded me.

Hot tears streamed down my face, but I kept my head held high as I glanced over at him. “What are you digging for?” I asked, changing the subject before my emotions burst forth.

“Something very dear to me,” he answered vaguely.

My gaze swept across the hundreds of people below and their deplorable conditions. “Dear enough to treat these people this way?” I asked, no longer able to withhold my contempt.

Razoul leaned closer, the leather of his saddle squeaking as his weight shifted. “Their lives are nothing to me compared to what I am searching for.”

My hand, which had been resting on the saddle horn, drifted down to my dress, where the dagger Ranen had given me was strapped to my thigh. As my fingers brushed the hilt, I felt the once-cool metal, now warmed by the heat of my skin, through the fabric. The intensity of my anger scared me; it coursed through my veins, urging me to draw the blade and put an end to this man who had hurt so many. The thought of what I might do if I let my emotions take over sent a shiver down my spine.

An invisible weight pressed against my back, stalling my hand from pulling the blade. A hand slipped down the length of my thigh, fingers intertwining with mine, anchoring me in place. Ranen’s presence was all-consuming, pulling me back from the edge of my rage.

I was in a dangerous situation, with one brother at my side and the other at my back. Despite how it appeared, I leaned into Ranen’s strong chest, seeking his comfort and breathing deeply to gain control of my anger.

Razoul watched me. “Are you all right?” he asked, his brows wrinkled in confusion.

After several precious seconds ticked by, I turned to Razoul with a fake smile plastered on my face. “Fine, I’m just a little dizzy from the heat,” I lied.

Razoul stared forward, obviously content with my story, then got down from his horse, walked over to me, and held his arms out.

Ranen’s presence vanished, abandoning me to the clutches of this cur. The last thing I wanted was for Razoul to help me down from my horse, but when a king offered his help, I didn’t have much choice but to accept it.

With a huff of frustration, I placed my hands on his shoulders for support as his slimy hands banded around my waist, lifting me from the horse's back. To my horror, he didn’t lower me to the ground but instead tucked me close to his chest and began to descend the sandy dune. I could feel the heat of his body and the discomfort of being so intimately close, each step he took causing a mix of anger and panic to swell up within me.

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

“You can put me down now. I promise not to faint,” I said, 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 seemed to 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 voice carried 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 stay astride 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.

“Canaari,” I gasped. “You mean they just slaughtered their own people?”

“Yes,” he answered tightly.

A chill coursed through me, leaving a trail of icy dread. “Why?”

Razoul’s face turned stony, and I feared that he wouldn’t answer me. “They were trying to prevent me from uncovering what I’ve been searching for…by using any means necessary,” he answered, tightening his grip on me.

Even in my shock-induced state, I didn’t miss the word he used. “Trying?” I echoed.

A wicked smile spread across Razoul’s face. “They’re too late. I already have it in my grasp. It’s on the way to the palace as we speak.”

It was pointless to ask him again what that something was, so I saved my breath and closed my eyes to stop the world from spinning. I only opened them again when I felt the horse beneath me stop.

We were back inside the safety of the palace walls. A nearby guard rushed toward us, and Razoul passed me to him. I was already on the brink of a ballistic meltdown, and being touched by all these different men was not helping.

The guard carried me to my room with an entire brigade of servants and court officials following behind us. The guard placed me on my feet, and I swayed slightly, but I shoved his hand away when he tried to steady me.

“The king has sent for the physician,” Leon said as he entered my room.

“I just want to be left alone. I don’t need the physician.” I dismissed him.

“But princess, you have blood trickling down the front of your dress,” Leon argued, stepping forward with genuine concern on his face.

“I don’t need the physician,” I said with as much authority as I could muster at the moment. “The guards need him much more than I do.”

Leon bowed, signaling for everyone to leave my room. “As you wish,” he conceded.

Once the door closed, Ranen appeared before me, his hands gripping my face, forcing me to look up at him. “Are you all right?” he asked, his eyes wild with panic.

My voice constricted with unshed tears, preventing me from answering him. I shook my head. His hand ventured to my throat, and I felt the light brush of his magic as he wove my skin back together. If only he could heal the emotional wounds as easily as the physical.

My chest was so tight with tension, I feared it would cleave in two. I turned away from Ranen, my gaze falling absently to the marbled floor. The intricate patterns offered no distraction from the turmoil that raged within me.

Namir rose from his bed, a hungry gleam in his eyes. I gasped, my hand venturing to my bloodied blouse. Ranen’s smoky magic rose, creating a barrier between me and the tiger.

Ranen gripped my shoulders, his fingertips pressing into my skin. “You break if you have to, sayyida, but I’m going to hold you in my arms while you do.” His tone was firm and demanding but laced with a tenderness I’d never heard from him before.

I turned to him, and the look in his eyes undid the last of my resolve. I rushed into his arms, finding comfort in his strong embrace. He bent down, scooping me up as I broke down completely. He carried me to the bed and climbed in, pulling me close to his chest. I cried until the pool of my tears ran dry. My swollen, puffy eyes finally forced themselves closed as Ranen held me tight, his steady heartbeat a lullaby against my ear.