Page 34 of Bound by Wishes (Enchanted Deceptions #1)

P anic gripped me like an icy hand, tightening around my chest and making it hard to breathe. My thoughts spiraled out of control, bouncing wildly from one fear to another, while my heart raced as if trying to outrun the terror flooding my senses. Had I truly just agreed to marry a man I barely knew and to become a queen to the people of Jalam? What had possessed me to make such a life-altering decision in such haste? It probably had something to do with the dangerously gorgeous king, offering me everything I’d ever wanted on a silver platter.

Arwa carefully wrapped my hair around a hot rod she had heated in the flames, creating soft, bouncy curls. Each strand hissed as it met the metal, and the scent of singed hair mixed with the fragrant oils she had applied filled the room. While she focused on transforming me into a vision of beauty, I struggled to keep my composure. The clash of fear and doubt waged within me, barely hidden beneath her handiwork.

Arwa gently helped me to my feet, my legs trembling beneath me, still unsteady after more than a week of unconsciousness. My senses felt muted, as if I were wandering through a dream I had yet to awaken from. She guided me behind the changing screen, helping me slip a dress over my head.

As the dress glided down my legs like a waterfall of emerald-green silk, I realized that this was now my life. The daring slit in the skirt revealed a hint of leg with each step, adding to the strange new reality I was stepping into. Was I any better off in this new life that I chose than I was before? Wasn’t I still being used as a tool in a man’s handy bag?

The bodice that hugged and accentuated my curves seemed to amplify that thought. Arwa busied herself with the final touches of my look, adding delicate jewelry and slippers that matched the golden threads in the gown.

I glanced in the mirror, unsure of the person staring back. She was regal, her bearing stronger than I’d ever thought possible. A quiet smile tugged at my lips. This was me, in all my splendor and vulnerability, woven together into someone I scarcely recognized. I wasn’t the same girl who had been overlooked for jobs and shoved into an office that used to be a closet. That version of me was gone. I was strong now, and with that strength came fierce pride.

But strength alone wasn’t enough. I refused to be just a symbol to the people. I would lead with purpose, improve their lives, and protect them from the djinns who had ruled this kingdom. They deserved more, and so did I .

A knock echoed through the room, and Arwa hurried to answer the door.

A servant stood there, bowing deeply. “The king wishes to see his bride,” he announced in a formal tone.

His bride—those words were like vinegar on my tongue, sour and unsettling. Making me second-guess that newfound strength I proclaimed to have. Worry crowded in. I knew nothing of ruling or proper etiquette, having spent most of my life playing in dirt, as Ranen had so adequately described it.

Ranen entered the room with an effortless grace, as if he were floating on air, his presence commanding instant respect from everyone. He was something straight out of a woman’s wildest fantasies, clad in sleek black pants and a matching sash that cinched his waist. His silken white shirt was adorned with a dizzying array of patterns that seemed to dance with his every movement. The shirt hung open, revealing glimpses of his powerful, sculpted muscles beneath. As I stood there, overwhelmed by his striking presence, I struggled to remember what I was just worrying about.

He stopped a few feet away from me. “You look better,” he mused.

“I suppose I do, compared to the zombie I was before,” I replied, hoping to ease the tension of the servants watching our every move. Something in Ranen’s demeanor had shifted. His eyes were hardened, as if he had no interest in the lightheartedness we once shared.

Mozenwrath entered the room seconds later, followed closely by the physician. The number of people in my bedroom added to the stress I was feeling .

“Shall we?” Ranen extended his arm as if the gathering audience had no effect on him at all.

I stepped forward, reaching for his arm, but the room tilted, a dizzying shift that made me stumble. I would have ended up sprawled across the floor if Ranen hadn't stepped forward, swiftly looping a strong arm around my waist and drawing me against his chest. The crowd in the room seemed to disappear as my hands braced against his firm torso, and his scent enveloped me.

“I don’t think the princess is well enough to make it to the dining hall, your Majesty,” the physician said, drawing my attention from the smoldering man who held me in his arms. “Might I suggest a tray be brought to her room so she can rest?”

“Do you want a tray brought to your room?” Ranen surprised me by asking what I wanted.

“I want to get out of this room for a while,” I replied honestly, only to be met with a disapproving scowl from the physician. “But I am feeling a bit dizzy.”

Ranen swept me up into his arms, the silk of my skirt billowing through the air before settling around my legs. Gasps of surprise, including my own, filled the room. He cradled me close to his chest as he strode confidently into the hallway.

“This is highly irregular,” Mozenwrath argued, quickening his steps to match Ranen’s stride. “Your Majesty, perhaps I should carry the princess?” he offered, his tone cautious but insistent.

A tremble coursed its way through me at the suggestion of being carried by another man .

Ranen froze in his tracks, leveling Mozenwrath with a spiteful glare.

“Then again, maybe not,” Mozenwrath stammered as Ranen continued down the hall.

A nagging headache pressed at my temples, and the hallway blurred into a haze of smooth marble and flickering lights as Ranen marched determinedly toward the dining hall. Each step he took seemed to echo in my mind, amplifying the pain, while the shifting shadows around us added to my disoriented state.

Blessedly, the dining hall came into view, offering a momentary distraction from the pounding in my head. But the relief was quickly overshadowed by the heat of embarrassment flooding my cheeks as Ranen paraded through the hall with me still cradled in his arms. We drew stares of shock from every corner, the murmurs of the servants barely audible over the thudding of my heart. Malik rose from his cushion at the table as we approached, his eyes wide with surprise. Ranen bent down, carefully placing me on the pillow closest to Malik.

Malik leaned over, wrapping his arms around me, and I instantly felt the warmth and comfort of his embrace. Tears pricked at my eyes as I clung to him, unable to shake the haunting image of him lying on the marbled floors with blood pooling around him.

“Remove your hands from the princess!” Mozenwrath’s harsh command cut through the moment, making me jump as my heart leaped into my throat. His rude interruption shattered the brief reunion between Malik and me.

“Stand down,” Ranen warned, his voice sharp like the crack of a whip, cutting through the air with an authority that demanded immediate obedience.

“But no man other than the king is permitted to touch her,” Mozenwrath insisted, his jaw ticking in frustration.

Anger flooded through my veins. Property. I was someone’s property.

Ranen’s face tightened, a flicker of aggravation crossing his features as if the need to explain anything to Mozenwrath was beneath him. “Caleena is a grown woman. I’m sure she is more than capable of deciding who gets to touch her and who does not,” Ranen stated, his gaze briefly locking with mine before returning to Mozenwrath’s. “If she protests to someone touching her, then you may squawk.”

My heart surged at Ranen’s words. Maybe I had made the right choice after all. No one at the museum had ever shown me that kind of respect.

Mozenwrath bowed at the waist, his posture stiff with reluctance, before retreating to a smaller table in the corner of the room. His scrutinizing gaze never wavered, watching our every movement with a piercing intensity that made my skin prickle.

“You really scared me, Cal,” Malik whispered, leaning closer. “I didn’t think you would ever wake up.” His concern touched me, and I smiled softly in response. “But I’m assuming you’re not feeling better, seeing as the king himself had to carry you in.” His tone shifted abruptly from tender to condescending, catching me off guard.

I could only imagine how upset he would be once he learned I had agreed to marry the very king that seemed to set his teeth on edge. Thankfully, the moment was interrupted as servants flooded into the room, carrying trays loaded with food, sparing me from having to break the news to him.

My stomach rumbled as the feast was laid out before us, the air thick with the scent of cumin, coriander, and garlic. A large platter of spiced chicken, lamb, and basmati rice was placed before me, making my mouth water. The kebabs, grilled to perfection over an open flame, looked juicy and tender.

Finally, my weakness arrived in the form of sweets. The syrupy richness of baklava layered with honey and nuts and soft dough balls soaked in rose-scented syrup beckoned to me. Platters of fresh fruit, dates, and figs provided a lightness to the rich desserts. I was tempted to dive into the desserts first, but I knew I needed my strength, so I motioned to the servant closest to me to fill my plate with meats and vegetables first.

The chattering in the room died down as people dove into the succulent dishes, their focus entirely on the feast before them. Soft music played in the background, the gentle melodies of stringed instruments adding a soothing rhythm to the clinking of utensils. I was tempted to marry Ranen for the food alone, it was that good.

Malik’s gaze kept drifting toward me, so I set down my fork with a soft smile. “Something’s wrong,” he said, taking a bite of the fluffy baklava. His lips glistened with honey, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I handed him a cloth napkin.

“We can go for a walk in the garden once we’re done eating,” I promised.

“I’m done,” Malik declared, standing abruptly.

I huffed, accepting his offered hand. As he pulled me to my feet, I quickly grabbed a flaky piece of baklava. Ranen glanced at me but remained silent, focused on finishing his meal. My nerves spiraled, and I tried to steady them by focusing on the pastry in my hand as Malik led me outside.

The cool night air nipped at my exposed skin as we stepped outside into the garden, where a blanket of stars stretched across the inky sky. Moonlight bathed the landscape in a silvery glow, forming soft shadows on the cobblestone paths that wound through lush greenery. The scent of jasmine and roses filled the air, mingling with the earthy smell of damp soil. Delicate lanterns hung from the branches of ancient trees, their gentle light flickering like fireflies. The garden seemed to come alive at night, with the rustling of leaves and the distant sound of a bubbling fountain.

“Well, out with it,” Malik demanded. I stuffed the rest of my pastry in my mouth, buying a few more seconds to figure out how to break the news.

“Ranen has asked me to marry him.” The words spilled from my lips before I could soften the blow. I coughed, nearly choking on my pastry as Malik’s eyes widened to the size of the full moon above us.

“He what?” Malik stammered. “What did you say?”

I swallowed the once-sweet pastry that now felt heavy in my throat. “I said yes.”

Malik’s expression hardened, and we settled into an uncomfortable silence. Finally, he asked, “Do you love him?”

Love is such an unnecessary word, Ranen had said, but I refused to repeat his harsh words. “No, but his offer was very tempting,” I explained. “He’s promised me the freedom to travel around the world and to fund my own dig sites. ”

“You truly believe he’s going to grant his queen that much freedom?” Malik’s eyebrow shot up in skepticism, his gaze sharp.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “But I can’t go back to my old life, rotting away in a dim room in the back of the museum. I want to learn more about my heritage and the people here.” I stepped closer, resting my hand gently on his arms, which were tightly crossed in a defiance. “Ranen said you could stay with me, that you’d have a place in the palace.”

Malik’s expression remained guarded, but I could see the conflict in his eyes. The garden’s soft glow and the distant babble of the fountain seemed to emphasize the gravity of our conversation. He looked away, staring at the twinkling stars as if seeking answers from above.

“It’s not just about freedom,” I continued, trying to convince him as much as I was myself. “It’s about a chance to start anew, to have a purpose beyond the darkness of my past.”

Malik’s silence was heavy, filled with the weight of unspoken doubts and concerns. He finally turned back to me. “I hope you’re right,” he said softly. “I hope this decision brings you what you’re seeking and that you're not just escaping one form of tyranny only to fall into another that could be even worse.”

He was right, but Malik hadn’t seen the tenderness Ranen had shown me, or the way he held me through my night terrors and promised that nothing or no one would hurt me. It might’ve been an empty promise, one he couldn’t keep, but after everything I had endured with Mathew, I craved the freedom to feel secure and respected more than anything else in this world.

“Will you stay with me?” I asked, my voice trembling as I looked up at Malik. The thought of facing this new life alone felt overwhelming. His presence had always been a source of strength.

As I waited for his response, the cool night air seemed to grow colder as Malik mulled over my request.

“Of course, Cal,” Malik conceded with a sigh. “I’ll always support you, even if I believe you’re making a deal with the devil.” His gaze softened, though the worry in his eyes remained.

I pulled him into a hug, feeling some of my worry blow away in the wind. “And here I thought you were only sticking around to keep me out of trouble,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Malik chuckled, tightening his arms around me. “That too,” he admitted with a wry smile. “I have to make sure you don’t do anything too crazy. Someone has to keep you in line, after all.”

He turned to face the palace, its gleaming towers sparkling like diamonds in the moonlight.

“I mean, I could’ve done worse, right?” I joked, following his gaze.

Malik exhaled deeply. “All that glitters is not always gold,” he warned. “I don’t know what you’re getting us into, and I’m crazy for following you, but we’ll face this together.”