Page 22 of Every Spiral of Fate (This Woven Kingdom #4)

Twenty-One

ALIZEH AWOKE WITH A START .

Her heart racing, she felt like oil in water, separating from sleep even as she bobbed within it.

She blinked, her head murky, thoughts congealed. She was snug and weightless, and she was realizing slowly that she was cradled in exquisite warmth.

She wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep.

Her head filled with an ambrosial fragrance that calmed her anxious heart, and she drew in a deep, contented breath, softly sighing as her dizzy mind sorted sounds and sensations.

She was still in motion, still rocked gently by movement, still soothed by curls of wind—except that sunlight had scoured the dark, the moon pushing out of contrast in the burgeoning rays of dawn.

Golden blue light unfurled across the heavens, an otherworldly radiance setting aflame the jagged edges of a mountain range.

Again, Alizeh blinked, as if emerging from a dream.

She was registering too slowly that she was no longer in-flight, seated in the skies.

Birds chirped softly in the distance; she thought she heard the sound of running water.

She was beginning to discern that the mountains here were unfathomable.

Staggering in breadth. Ice white and astonishing.

She craned her neck in an attempt to glimpse their zenith, and was rewarded by a sight so unexpected she gasped, her heart now hammering at a speed that frightened her.

Cyrus.

He was radiant in the blaze of morning light, the sharp lines of his face cast in glorious relief. His copper hair took on the tint of honey, his skin gleaming as if cast in gold.

He was carrying her.

Desperately, her mind filled in the blanks: she must’ve fallen asleep on her dragon; they had likely arrived at their destination; he’d no doubt discovered her in slumber and gathered her into his arms. This was the sequence that made the most sense, and yet she still had dozens of questions:

Had they made it to the military outpost? Where were the others? How was Deen? What were they walking toward?

She could not explain it, but she felt they might not have landed in the correct location.

In fact, she felt all kinds of things as her mind sharpened.

Her very bones felt different; the air felt different; rays of resonance hummed within her like plucked strings, as if she were an instrument being tuned.

Her heart wouldn’t stop racing.

“Cyrus?” she whispered.

She could see nothing beyond him but the colossal mountains and the newborn sun, and she was suddenly worried by the idea that he might put her down.

She didn’t want him to put her down. She felt a safety in his arms she’d never known in her life.

She wished she might fall asleep a thousand times in his presence if only it might inspire him to hold her like this.

His blue eyes settled briefly upon her face. “Good morning, angel,” he said quietly.

She marveled at this.

“Good morning,” she said, sounding breathless even to herself.

Her hands, she realized, were pressed between them, caught against his sweater, under which warmth blazed like a hearth.

She wondered, dimly, what had happened to his cloak, but this close to him, Alizeh could hardly remember her name.

She found herself staring at his throat, then the hint of his collarbone, which disappeared into his dark sweater.

He never allowed her to be this close to him, and she felt heady with wonder.

Hypnotized, she dared trail her hand down the firm, heated planes of his chest.

Cyrus came to a sudden and abrupt stop.

She felt his heart battering and she stiffened, shocked by her own impertinence.

“Forgive me,” she whispered.

He only looked at her, his hands tightening around her, his body straining for breath, and whispered her name as if in anguished prayer. Heat shot directly into her heart, then flooded her elsewhere, everywhere. Lower.

She felt suddenly faint.

He was all but begging her not to torture him. She knew this. She saw this in his eyes, and it did nothing to calm her; instead, she felt that strange, horrible compulsion to provoke him.

She wanted to know whether he had a limit.

She wanted to know what he might be like in the absence of utter control. Heaven help her, she wanted to see him unleashed. She wanted to know what it was he feared, for she wanted him to know that they might share the same fears.

She was nearly trembling at the thought.

“Do you feel steady enough to remain upright?” he said roughly, directing his eyes ahead. “I can put you down here.”

She wanted to lie. She was ashamed to admit she considered it. But in the end, her desire to be touched by him was far outweighed by her desire to spare him pain.

“Yes, you may put me down,” she said. “Thank you.”

Sighting something in the distance, Cyrus stiffened. He did not put her down.

She noted only then that they were wading through what looked like chest-high grass. She could see hardly anything beyond the shield of Cyrus’s arms. Mostly she saw the mountains fracturing the sky.

“I see you’ve arrived with your body parts all intact?” came the sound of an unfamiliar, feminine voice.

Then, the sound of boots thudding the ground, drawing nearer. “Cyrus,” said Hazan. “Could you—”

“I take that back,” said the stranger. “It’s clear enough now that one of you looks entirely out of sorts—”

“The perimeter is sealed,” said Cyrus, and Alizeh didn’t know what he was talking about. “I wouldn’t have brought her down otherwise.”

Hazan exhaled in what sounded like relief, though she couldn’t see his face, for Cyrus had yet to set her down.

“Good. Very good.” Hazan paused. His voice took on a note of worry when he added, “I was hoping we’d make it before sunrise, but I suppose we’ll have to make do.”

“It’s a miracle we managed to arrive at all,” said Cyrus.

“What does that mean?” said Alizeh, lifting her head above the citadel of Cyrus’s arms. “What are you talking about? Where is everyone?”

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” said Hazan, offering her a deferential nod. He looked rumpled and fatigued. “Huda and Omid and Deen and Kamran are just up ahead. You need not worry—we all arrived safely.”

Her eyes widened. “Was I supposed to worry? Did something happen on the journey?”

Hazan exchanged a look with Cyrus she couldn’t decipher, then said, stiffly, “I’ll explain everything as soon as we are settled.”

“But—”

“Ah, and this must be the young woman who’s captured my son’s rare and violent affections!”

Alizeh froze.

My son’s rare and violent affections.

The stranger’s voice certainly didn’t belong to Sarra, Cyrus’s mother, who remained back in Tulan. Nor could it have belonged to Hazan’s mother, who’d passed on years prior.

That left one other option.

Cyrus finally, gently lowered Alizeh to the ground, whereupon she shook out her skirts and cautiously looked up through the tall grass, weathering a brief head rush.

The world around her came into sudden, dizzying view, and with a cursory scan she made quick deductions: they were standing at the mouth of a wild valley forged between two stratospheric mountain ranges.

A long, snaking river bisected the endless meadow.

There appeared to be a cluster of small cabins in the far distance.

Alizeh had just turned to inspect the structures when she saw, for the first time, the shocking firework of a woman standing before them.

“Hello, Mother,” said Kamran quietly.