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The Lion tsked, studying him. “No one to protect you now, is there? Worry not, it’s almost time for our family reunion.”
Nasir’s every heavy inhale shook, every exhale trembled. He could not turn his face to look at her. Zafira. To see her pity. You are weak.
His vision wavered as he stared back at the Lion with as much indifference as he could muster. He had the Lion to thank for the mask he donned. “My father has suffered enough in your hands.”
“Ghameq?” the Lion mused. “Laa, laa. I was referring to your brother.”
Nasir only gritted his teeth, tasting copper on his tongue. “I have no brother.”
“I seem to recall you do.”
He was tired of being toyed with. Tired of being the mouse between the lion’s jaws.
“Eat your lies, Lion. Ghameq had only one son.” Nasir knew this for a fact, as certain as the wisps of darkness that spun from his fingers. As certain as the burn beneath his collarbone.
He was darkness. He was adrift in the desert, lost to himself.
“Perhaps.” The Lion tilted his head, enjoying this. “But your mother had two.”
Three forms stepped from the corridor. Two ifrit, one man. Blood oozed from the man’s lip. His muscled arms glistened with sweat, and his golden hair stood out like a blaze. Hair Nasir had never seen without a turban.
A turban that had obscured the elongated points of his ears.
He lifted a feeble smile, and Nasir’s heart faltered once more.
“Peace unto you, little brother,” said Altair.
CHAPTER 73
Zafira knew the prince was a killer. A murderer. Arawiya’s greatest hashashin.
She did not know he could cry.
She wanted to tear the Lion apart with her bare hands, but all she could do was beg. Promise him the Jawarat. Curse the shackles holding her in place.
And then it was done. The lapels of Nasir’s robes hung open, revealing his copper skin and a new scar across the expanse of his soul. Zafira stared at the wound, the blistering flesh. Her eyes burned with the wrath of a thousand storms.
Nasir lifted his head and spoke as he always did. But she saw the difference. In the crack of his voice, the tremble of his mouth, and the shatter of his gray gaze.
Altair looked from the Lion to the poker to Nasir’s open collar. Cold rage crossed his features, and she saw Arawiya’s prized general for the first time. Nasir’s brother. She had never thought they could share blood.
The Lion regarded Altair with an expression she couldn’t read. “Kill him.”
Nasir’s reaction was a wheeze. Zafira choked.
“Come now, Lion. We’ve only just met. Aren’t you going to offer me some torture, too?” Altair drawled, and Zafira wondered if this was how he dealt with emotion. The ifrit near him actually paused, bewildered, and the Lion gave a weary sigh.
Altair smiled. “I’m here for my damsel in distress. I’m not dying yet.”
“I am not your damsel and I am not in distress,” Zafira hissed.
She was surprised to feel a pang of emotion when he looked at her. She had missed him.
“Who said you’re my damsel?” he asked, tossing a wink at Nasir. Anger still crooked his mouth.
The prince didn’t react, but his eyes brightened and the corners of his lips twitched.
“Even more of a clown in person,” the Lion mused. “Yalla. Kill him.”
