Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Zarya marched through the streets, weaving through the crowds, consumed with guilt and regret and anger. Yasen caught up but said nothing as he kept pace with her furious strides.
“How dare she?” Zarya spat, the words bursting out of her. “How dare she speak to me like that? I was trying to help. I warned them. I said I would do my best!”
“She’s worried about Farida,” he said. “But you’re right; you didn’t deserve any of that.”
Zarya stopped and faced him, her gaze lingering in the direction they’d just come. The surging crowds enveloped them in the pulse and noise of the city.
“The things she said to me?—”
Tears built in her eyes, and Yasen shook his head as he blew out a breath. “I don’t think she really meant any of it.”
“Don’t you? Or were those things she’s been thinking all along and now felt free to say?”
Yasen closed his eyes and opened them. “I’m not sure.”
“I fucked up,” Zarya said. “I let my magic slip, but…”
“I know that, Zee. Give her some time to calm down.”
“What if Farida doesn’t wake up, Yas? Then what? I’m sure this is what I’m supposed to be doing, but it seems like I’m getting everything wrong.”
He tipped his head and considered her. “What if that’s not what those words meant?”
“What else could they mean?” she asked. “Who else is ‘caged by the stars’?”
He pulled a face. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It does seem pretty clear.”
She turned and kept walking while he followed at her side.
“Did they say anything after I left?”
He shrugged. “Not much. I think you shocked them into silence.”
Zarya huffed. “I bet that was a first for Rania.”
“Sorry, Zee,” he said. “That was hard to listen to.”
“Thanks for trying to stick up for me.”
“Hey, what are second-best friends for?”
Zarya found herself caving to a reluctant smile.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
“Let’s train,” she answered. “It’s been too long, and I need to burn off some energy.”
With a nod, he took her hand, and they shoved through the afternoon rush, finding themselves on the rooftop of their apartment building. They’d discovered early on that no one ever came up here, and it was the perfect place to spar. With the sun beating down, they fought with their blades clashing. Zarya wasn’t in the mood to talk, so she lost herself in the sway and the cadence of the fight.
When they finally stopped, the sun was setting, and they were both covered in sweat.
“Thank you,” she said, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. “I needed that.”
“You really did,” Yasen said. “Woo, you are rusty.”
She snorted. “Shut up.”
He grinned, and they sank down against the perimeter wall, their knees up and their shoulders pressed together.
“Feeling any better?” he asked.
“Not really. Do you think they’ll let me check on Farida tomorrow?”
“Maybe I should go and assess the mood first,” he said.
She picked at her bottom lip as she stared ahead. The sky was turning shades of pink and orange, and the stars were beginning to sparkle overhead.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“I need to try again,” she said. “But I’ll need a volunteer, and after what happened with Farida…”
“We’ll figure out something. I’m sure someone is willing, given the right price.”
She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “That hardly seems ethical.”
“We’re fighting evil, Zee. Sometimes, you must do things you’re not proud of and cross lines you might not normally consider.”
“Maybe.” She leaned down, resting her head on his shoulder, and wrapped a hand around his bicep. He placed his hand over hers, and they sat together quietly watching the stars.
She blinked and then sucked in a startled breath.
The scene around her had changed. She was somewhere else. Somewhere inside her dreams, but it wasn’t the forest.
This was something new.
She sat against a dark stone wall inside a large and opulent room. The floors were covered with ornate woven rugs threaded with gold. A fireplace roared along one side, and a giant black bed stood at another. It was massive. The other walls were covered in stuffed, dark wooden bookshelves.
But none of that mattered.
The only presence in this room that counted for anything waited in the center, watching her.
Rabin .
Dressed in leather armor with two swords strapped to his back, his eyes glittered like he was peering right into the middle of her soul.
She swallowed the knot swelling up her throat, trying to find her breath somewhere at her feet. The sight shocked her in ways she hadn’t expected. She wasn’t entirely ready for this. After all these months of wondering if she’d ever see him again, now he stood there, watching her expectantly like he hadn’t torn apart her life.
She studied him back, allowing the silence to shift and bend between them as she picked through several layers of emotion, experiencing a vast range of feelings, but mostly rage and betrayal. What she felt was the moment her heart had cracked when she’d begged him to tell her that Dhawan had been lying. What she felt was the way it had shattered into pieces when he couldn’t deny it.
These emotions she expected. But what she didn’t expect was a traitorous flare of sensation that veered a bit too close to…relief.
Pushing against the wall, she slowly stood, keeping her eyes on him. Around the room, large arched windows filtered in muted grey light. Tearing her gaze away, she glanced outside, shocked to see mountains and snow so close it felt like she could touch them. She’d never seen snow on the ground before. Her entire body went numb at the sight, premonition already signifying where she was.
“What’s going on?” she demanded, whipping around to face him. “What is this?”
“You’re in Andhera,” he said, confirming what she’d already suspected.
Andhera .
Turning away again, she gazed out the window at the arctic landscape and the massive range of jagged mountains spreading across the horizon. She placed her hand against the cold window and felt a deep twist in her chest.
Andhera .
The other half of herself. A place she hadn’t known she belonged to until Row had been forced to reveal it all.
The harsh and unforgiving landscape held a sort of clean, cold beauty that made her breath catch. It was so different from the shore and forests where she’d grown up with its icy, windswept mountains and foggy grey sky.
The weak sun filtered in pale light that she was sure would feel like nothing on her skin. She considered the bare trees with their spindly arms and the lush, green pines as the wind tore through their branches.
Gathering herself, she again turned to face Rabin, who stood with a hand gripped around the strap crossing his chest.
“What am I doing here? Why aren’t we in the forest?”
“I’ve been reading up on paramadhar,” he said. “I’ve learned how to control the visions.”
What . Shit why hadn’t she thought of that? She’d been too busy wallowing in the way he’d betrayed her, but this would have been a much better use of her time. If nothing, so she wouldn’t be prey to his mercy or his call.
The corner of her mouth curled up in a snarl, rage creeping to the surface. Who did he think he was?
“So you dragged me here? Against my will? What about the other night? Was that you, too?”
“It was.” The words were said simply. He wasn’t sorry. He wasn’t anything but confident.
“So, why didn’t you show yourself?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“I wasn’t sure if you were ready to see me, butI had to see you.”
Zarya narrowed her eyes. “You had no right to do that.”
He shrugged a shoulder. The insouciant gesture made her want to walk over there and wrap her hands around his neck. Except he’d probably like that. “You already hate me. What difference does it make?”
A growl built in her throat. “Because you lied to me. Remember that? I told you I didn’t want to see you.”
His hand tightened, tendons standing out on the surface, reminding her of the raw power contained within his massive frame. “I was planning to tell you everything, Zarya.”
“When? Before or after you delivered me to my father?”
His jaw clenched, his dark eyes flashing. “I was never planning to do that.”
She huffed. “You treated me like the plague for weeks. Then you turned around and wouldn’t stop pursuing me until I fucked you, all while you pretended to be someone else.”
He took a step forward, his shoulders curving towards her. “Why do you think I resisted you so hard?” he asked through clenched teeth. “That night, when I walked away from you, I was trying to do the honorable thing.”
She scoffed and shook her head. “So much for that.”
A muscle feathered in his clenched jaw. “Zarya. I swear to you that I had no idea who you were.”
She pressed herself against the window. “I don’t believe you.”
He spread his hands. “What was I supposed to say? Hey, no one really knows where I’ve been, but surprise, I was with your father, who apparently has been hunting you since before you were born?”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, that’s exactly what you should have done.”
He took another step towards her, his dark eyes burning, his chest rumbling with a deep sound reminiscent of a wild animal.
“And then what? You would have told everyone. You would never have trusted me.”
“You don’t know what I would have done,” she hissed. “And you proved that I didn’t have any reason to trust you.”
The growl in his throat vibrated in the air between them. She tried to read the truth in his words. Was he being sincere? Or were these just more lies?
She wanted to believe him, but she’d already fallen for his silver tongue once. It was obvious he was very good at hiding things.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, looking around the room, her gaze landing on the door as a hard pellet wedged between her ribs. Was her father there somewhere on the other side?
“Is this real?” she asked. “Where exactly are we?”
“It’s not real,” he said. “It’s a pocket dimension between worlds. One of us created the forest, and I created this.”
“I didn’t create the forest.”
“You may have done so without realizing. I’m not sure which of us it was. From what I’ve read, it was likely me. The paramadhar seeks out their masatara. They cannot help but be drawn to them.”
“Masatara?”
“I’m your paramadhar and you are my masatara.”
Zarya studied him, turning that over in her head. Masatara . Another shiver climbed over her scalp. They were connected no matter what he’d done. No matter how hard she fought.
“Why did you make this?” she asked, waving her hand in a circle.
“Because I wanted you to see where I was.”
Andhera. He was in Andhera. “So, you ran straight back to my father.”
“This is where I feel safe, Zarya.”
Her indignation wavered at the thread of rawness in his voice. He’d told her all the horrible things his own father had done. She knew why he couldn’t stay in Dharati. Where else was he supposed to go?
“Again, I ask, why did you bring me here?”
“I was hoping we could talk.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
But was that true? Was she the one lying now?
“Zarya, please?—”
“No!” She stood straighter, taking a step towards him. “I didn’t consent to being dragged here.”
As she passed a desk covered with books and papers, her attention snagged on a golden dagger, the hilt inlaid with violet jewels. She grabbed it and pointed it at him. “I want to go home.”
“Where is home?” he asked. “Where are you?”
She shook her head. “Oh no. We’re not doing this again. Why? So you can show up unannounced and tear my life apart one more time? I’m happy. I have a purpose. I’m where I’m supposed to be.”
But was any of that true anymore? The mistake she’d made with Farida was unforgivable. What if she never woke up? What if this wasn’t really her purpose, and she was involving herself in things that weren’t hers to meddle with, just as Rania had claimed?
“I’m glad you’re happy,” he said. “I want you to be happy, but I want you to be happy with me at your side.”
Zarya took a step closer, holding the dagger in front of her. “You betrayed me.”
“I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”
“But you did!” she shouted.
“I meant you no harm. Give me another chance. Let me prove it to you.”
His voice was so full of passion that she felt the dagger drop an inch.
She stared at him, tracing the hard lines of his face. The sharp angle of his jaw and the arch of his thick eyebrows. Her gaze drifted lower, over his wide shoulders and broad chest. The narrow taper of his waist and his strong thighs encased in supple leather. She looked at his hands hanging loosely at his sides, but she saw the way his fingers twitched as if he was an inch away from destroying everything around him with the pent-up energy boiling under his skin.
It would be so easy to give into everything she craved.
But he’d been very convincing last time, too.
She hoisted the dagger higher, pointing it at him.
“I want to leave,” she said.
“Fight me for it,” he said, and he had to be joking. Not this again. “Prove to me you hate me as much as you claim.”
“I do hate you,” she hissed.
His mouth twisted into a smug smile. “Then you should have nothing to fear, Spitfire.”
She gripped the dagger so tight it shook in her hand. “Do not call me that. You have no right.” The words tore out of her, and she did her best not to show how much they affected her. He’d hurt her so deeply she felt like she was bleeding out on the floor, exposing herself for the world to witness her pain.
He reached behind his head and pulled out both swords from his back.
“Catch,” he said, launching one of them in her direction. Taken by surprise, she nearly missed, snatching it out of the air before it clattered to the floor. The hilt had been crafted to look like the mouth of a dragon with lapis lazuli eyes, and the honed steel blade was engraved with curls of fire. It was stunning.
“They were a gift from your father,” he said, and she nearly dropped it like it had burned her palm.
“Is this supposed to be funny?” she demanded. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because you and I are destined.” Again, he said it with such unwavering conviction that it was impossible to argue. Almost.
“The paramadhar is not a romantic partner,” she said. “You are my servant .” She hurled the words at him, hoping they stung. “You would be bound to me. Destined to die when I die. You’d never have a life that’s yours. I would rule you in every way.”
The corner of his mouth twisted up in a cold smile, his dark, golden-flecked eyes chipped from the heart of a bottomless underground pit.
“I don’t care,” he snarled. “I’ll have you however you want.”
Anger boiled in her blood. He was so fucking sure of himself. She wanted to wipe that cocky smile off his face.
“I don’t want you,” she said, trying to infuse her voice with an arctic chill to rival the wind howling across the tundra. Her feelings weren’t quite so clear-cut, but she knew if she gave him an inch, he’d take it all. Her heart. Her body. Her spirit. And she wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to take them back again.
“Show me how much you despise me, Zarya.”
Without warning, he crossed the room in three long strides and lifted his sword, swinging down. She had no choice but to block the attack at the last second, the air ringing with their clashing blades.
“I’m keeping the dagger,” she said, noting he held no other weapons.
“I would expect nothing less,” he said, spinning around and arcing his sword overhead. Again, she blocked it at the last second, almost stumbling from the force. His face stretched into a feral smile, one of a self-assured predator.
That pissed her off, and she launched into the fight. This time, he was the one who stumbled as she swung with all of her strength and precision.
She regretted training so hard with Yasen this afternoon because even in this dream she could feel the effects, her muscles and joints protesting due to her lack of training over the last few months. But she would die before she let Rabin have the upper hand.
Pushing aside her weariness, she fought with fury as they moved around the study, using the furniture to get in each other’s way. She swung, and he ducked as her sword bit into a bookshelf, her blade sinking into the wood. She wrenched on it, hoping it would ruin this stupid sword from her father .
She spun around and faced him, crowding him against the desk. He bent nearly backward before he flipped over, landing on top in a crouch. Fuck, that was impressive. He hopped back, dropping to the other side as she followed him around before they circled each other, keeping the desk between them. He leaped over the back of a chair, and she kicked it away, shoving it against the wall.
“You seem a little tired,” he said. “Where is that fire, Zarya?”
“Fuck you,” she said. “Are you trying to kill me? Fight harder, Commander. Because I’m going to kill you .”
She launched again, and their blades became a whirl as they fought. She was thankful she was at least wearing her training leathers after falling asleep next to Yasen, but she was tiring quickly.
Rabin advanced, and he wasn’t going easy on her anymore. Could they kill each other in this alternate dimension?
She tripped over the edge of a rug, landing on the large divan in the center of the room. Before she could scramble off, Rabin pounced on top, his knees landing on either side of her hips and his weight pinning her to the cushions. He wrenched the dagger from her hand and then pressed it to her throat hard enough to draw blood.
“Didn’t think you’d go down so easy, Spitfire,” he hissed, his dark eyes flashing with bursts of fiery gold.
“Get off me!” she bit out, struggling against his bulk. Fuck, why was he so heavy?
She continued thrashing, then went entirely still as her body reacted in ways she was trying to ignore. Why did fighting with him always bring out that needy quiver between her thighs? This was so annoying.
She noticed the way his pupils spread, his nose flaring as her lips parted before she licked the bottom one. She hated that she wanted to kiss him. That she wanted him to kiss her. That kissing was only the first of many things on her mind. Why did she have to be drawn to him?
She sucked in a sharp breath, and his eyes dipped to her breasts before they zeroed in on her mouth. His grip on her wrist loosened as she slid her hand out and reached up, touching her fingertips to his lower lip.
He opened his mouth and nipped at them, sending a straight shot of desire below her navel. Her hand wandered lower, smoothing down the column of his throat, the prick of his stubble tickling her skin. He leaned forward, and she felt the evidence of his thick cock pressing against her stomach, causing another inconvenient flare of heat to climb up the back of her neck.
Oh, but this was almost too easy.
She moved lightning quick, grabbing him between the legs and twisting as she flipped him over so he landed on the floor with a thud. She fell on top of him, yanking the dagger from his hand, pressing it to his throat, and baring her teeth. His eyes swirled with anger, his jaw turning hard.
“I could kill you right now,” she hissed.
“Then do it,” he bit out. There was no fear in his eyes. Either he truly believed she wouldn’t, or he didn’t care. “End it. Without you, I am nothing.”
Her heart stuttered and tripped over itself at that impassioned declaration, but she tried to ignore it.
“Let me go,” she snarled.
“We aren’t done,” he said before the world blinked out.
Suddenly, she was back in Ishaan, sitting on the rooftop, leaning against Yasen, who slept with his head tipped back and his mouth hanging open.
Zarya sighed and rubbed a hand down her face, cycling through every emotion under the sun. Anger. Betrayal. The desire that was still pounding between her thighs. Fuck.
Paramadhar. Masatara .
It was time to find a library.