Chapter 32
AMEIRAH
By the time we flew across the wall around Red Manniston, I was exhausted and ready to collapse into bed.
We spent an hour scouring the cells beneath the market where the Legion of Fyrevein blast a hole in the medina floor and helped free the seven women we found locked down there—only women, and all with pointed ears and wings who spoke a language that was only familiar because of this afternoon.
I was surprised when Kamaal’s legion followed us, along with the three legions who’d answered Varidian’s call for help. Khalid’s allies, apparently. There was much I didn’t know about my cousin it seemed.
I’d ponder all that later, along with everything that happened in Riverren, and the fact no one had seen hair nor hide of Kaazhim and his gentry henchmen since.
Now, I slid down Raheema’s side to dismount, and smiled when Varidian’s hands bracketed my waist, his lips immediately finding my forehead, careless of the sweat there.
“Say it again,” he pleaded against my brow, his thumbs sweeping circles over my hipbones.
“I love you.” I’d taken one look at him, with his sleeves rolled up and jacket unzipped an inch as he toiled to remove rocks and debris from the dungeons, and blurted the words out.
He was so gentle speaking to the prisoners when we found a way to open their cells, his compassion enough to settle their fear at least temporarily.
It was impossible to keep those three words trapped in my chest; they gathered so much force, urgency, and emotion it hurt.
I looked at him now, gazed deep into his topaz eyes, and felt the last of my resentment float away, little more than dust on the wind. I’d make him grovel for sending me away, of course, but he didn’t need to know I looked into his pleading, adoring eyes and forgave him.
“I love you,” I repeated, and kissed him, the scent of oud, amber, and brimstone bathing my senses in warmth. “I love you more than anything.”
“You are the breath in my lungs and the blood that pumps through every vein in my body,” he said, utterly fanatic.
“Varidian,” I breathed, matching his tone as I stroked a lock of hair back from his face, “that’s really cliché.”
A laugh burst from him, the bright sound filling the lawn, filling my chest with pure light. “Harsh, menace.”
“Oh, you’re calling me menace again,” I observed. “Has the shine worn off our reunion already?”
“Not if you slap me again,” he replied, pulling me close and watching as his legion paused several feet away, giving us space. Shula grinned and mouthed give him hell to me. “That was insanely hot, Ameirah. I’m getting hard just thinking of it.”
I nipped his bottom lip. “Don’t be so filthy with our friends just over there.”
The look he gave me when I drew back could only be called incendiary.
“Look at the two of us,” he said casually, as if his voice wasn’t low and sinfully rough. “We’re covered in dust and dirt. And you need to clean the blood from your leg.”
I was slow to figure out his meaning; it took him catching the backs of my thighs and lifting me for me to catch on.
“Bad idea to keep all this dirt on us for so long, especially with open wounds,” I played along. “It’s just asking for trouble, especially when we have such private baths.”
His eyes darkened, bright topaz to shadowed blue. “Go help our new friends find places to stay,” he shouted to the legion. “Mak, take care of Raheema. Hiba will be here soon to check on her injuries.”
I’ll be fine, Raheema grumbled the moment I looked at her and opened my mouth. Go, mate.
My ears burned at the blunt encouragement, but I didn’t argue. Not when our injuries had already been patched by my cousin—and what a revelation that was—I knew she would heal. Plus, Varidian was giving me that dark, smoky look that made my toes curl.
I had a sudden interest in cleanliness.