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Zurvan watched the young woman and the emotions coloring her features.
She was magnificent with her tall, lithe body and long golden waves of hair. He did not know why she had dyed those beautiful locks that dreadful purple color and hacked it up in that ragged mess it had been before he fixed it. His body tightened as his gaze fell on the swell of her breasts, and he forced his gaze upwards to her face. With her cheeks stained crimson and her eyes blazing, she surpassed Atia herself in beauty.
But beneath the confident stance, he sensed her uneasiness. She was afraid of him.
He felt a lead weight deep in his belly. Why wouldn’t she be? He shouldn’t have directed his rage at her. Atia was the one who had imprisoned him, who had destroyed his life, making him little more than a slave. She was the one he hated, not this innocent young woman. It was Atia who had kept him imprisoned in her palace, forcing him to submit to her sexual whims, not this woman.
“Look, Ali Baba.” Her voice cut through his thoughts. “I want you to stop this right now,” she demanded.
“Stop what?” He kept his voice mild and non-threatening.
She glared at him and began counting her verbal points on her fingers.
“Stop controlling me. Stop intimidating me. And…” She seemed to struggle for words. “Stop acting like a jerk.”
He remembered all too clearly what it had been like to be dominated by someone with more power. The experience had torn away his dignity. It had left him outraged. That was why he had struck out at her, the first female mistress he had encountered since Atia imprisoned him in the stone. But this woman did not have the power of the Djinn. He had to remember that.
Just like a bully, he had frightened her, yet she did not quiver like a child. She held her head high, ready to fight back, even though it must be clear to her she had little chance of winning.
Here she stood, alone, facing a power she must know far outstripped anything she had ever encountered. Her loneliness and fear seeped through his awareness. As she watched him with eyes the blue of lapis lazuli, golden speckles glittering in their depths, he longed to hold her and murmur reassuring words. And yet he knew she would not welcome his touch.
She was right. He had been ajerk.He had never heard the word, but knowledge of colloquialisms was part of the magic. He bowed his head. “Your wish is my command.”
Her eyes narrowed. “It is? Just like that?”
“You made me realize my anger is for the one who imprisoned me, but I directed it at you, and for that I ask your forgiveness.”
“Oh.”
* * *
In only minutes, Celeste’s whole world had turned topsy-turvy. She couldn’t even think straight, so she paced and wrung her hands.
“If you’re a genie, you’ve got a funny way of showing it. Scaring me half to death like that. Changing how I look.” She ran her hand along her hair. “I thought you were supposed to grantmywishes, not your own.”
He bowed his head. “Again, I ask your forgiveness.”
“You really are a genie?”
“Yes. I am Zurvan, genie of the crystal.”
This was insane. If she hadn’t seen him grow to the size of a giant, hadn’t experienced what could only be explained by magic, she would have thought him crazy. But he must be what he claimed. It was the only thing that made sense… unless she was dreaming.
“This is not a dream,” Zurvan said.
She glared at him. How did he know what she’d been thinking?
“So I get three wishes? Anything I want?”
“Anything within my power. And you must make all three wishes within three days, or the wishes are forfeit.”
“And you must do anything I say?”
The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. The effect was like a feather stroking her insides.
“No, I didn’t say that. I must grant your wishes, but other than that, my actions are my own.”
He stared at her with probing, green eyes.
