Page 39 of Obsidian Dream

She sighed, double-checking that she had everything she might need.

Packing and unpacking her bag hadn’t bought her enough time, and it hadn’t changed the fact that she and Talik were working together.And while she didn’t quite believe everything Sypha said, blatantly disagreeing with the seer was not something she wanted to risk.At the very least, Talik was just as invested in her living as she was in him.Neither of them had any plans to die young.Remembering why she had to stay away from Talik was all she needed.And to forget the way he was making her feel and question all the past events.

Chemistry had never been lacking between the two of them—but a strong relationship required trust and that had been broken when Sidra died.Grief could make people do foolish things.Make them do things they never would do under normal circumstances.But it could also show their true colors.For them, grief had not pushed them together but torn them apart, until they could no longer be in the same room as each other without destroying themselves and the other person.More than five hundred years later, and she still hadn’t quite forgiven herself or Talik for what had happened.

Boundaries.

It was her new mantra.And she would stick to it no matter what.

Chapter Sixteen

KHALIDA

“Talik.”

She knocked a second time, her patience wearing thin.

Laughter and voices in Italian, English, and Atlantean drifted up to her from the streets.It may be fall, and the weather was beginning to cool, but it didn’t stop the bustling tourists visiting Rome.

He was late.Not that she expected anything less.He’d always preferred dramatic entrances, while she despised tardiness that bordered on the obsessive.And he knew it.

The wooden door wasn’t that thick that he wouldn’t have heard her.

She filtered out the extraneous noise as she leaned against the door.The faint echo of running water was barely discernible above the music in the room.

Done waiting, she opened the door and stepped into the dark room before quietly closing it behind her.

Unlike her accommodations or the corridor, the room was plain, covered in muted grays and whites.It was also sparsely decorated.A silver table was flanked by a dark-green sofa that hid the nineteenth century ornate marble fireplace.It was as if the owner barely spent any time in the room or had not wanted to leave an impression of who they really were.It could have belonged to anyone.Except for the twin swords on the wall above the window.

Time had not been kind to the swords.The wrappings of the hilts were a faded black and had begun to unravel, the once red ribbon had faded to a pale pink.She ignored the way her backpack dug into her shoulders as if it had gained twenty pounds since she had seen the swords.

A memory she would rather forget flooded back.

“Teach me how to use the two swords,” Khalida demanded as she licked her dry lips.She tugged at her long shirt.It suddenly felt too tight and everything too warm.

In the distance, the tall eastern turrets of the Arx towered over the sand dunes.If she squinted, she could see the Atlantean guards scanning the markets, looking for something or someone.Likely her.She wasn’t supposed to venture this far outside the Arx, not without her guards.Out here, the humans and Atlanteans traded goods and shared some sort of common ground.It also had him.Watching him for the last three days, she finally mustered the courage to meet him in person.