The Bodyguard
Shahzadeh Dayyan grabbed my hand and nearly dragged me from the throne room.
The heels of my silver sandals scuffed across the floor.
The music started again as the doors closed behind us.
My heart pumped with more fear each step we took.
When we reached the hall that split away from the harem, he didn’t release me but strode on with determined purpose.
The prince swung a door at the end of the hall open.
The wood drifted inward with an ominous creak.
He stepped inside, and I had no choice but to follow.
He dropped my hand and turned to shut the door.
The lock twisted with a menacing click. Despite the sudden silence, my ears were blaring with noise—our heavy breaths filling the air between us, the rustling movements of my skirt.
That niggling fear that lurked in the back of my mind swept to the forefront, and my blood hummed in warning.
I tried to still my nerves, but a lump built in my throat at the sight of the enormous bed with sheer curtains tucked around it.
The fabric glittered, reminding me of stars—or the glint of a sharp blade.
A furtive glance over the rest of the chamber revealed we were the only souls present. Not a prisoner to be seen.
My relief was short-lived. That meant I was alone with the shah’s executioner.
I was attuned to his every movement. The thud of his boots as he removed them, the tinkling of water as he poured himself a glass.
I steeled myself, knowing I had to keep him in sight at all times.
I watched him tilt his head back as he drank the water, exposing his throat.
His long and vulnerable throat. I calculated the time it would take for me to launch forward and unsheathe one of his knives, slice the blade across his neck, and witness his wretched body fade.
Something told me he would stop me before I could even grasp the hilt.
There was only one way to catch him unaware. To seduce him. I nearly gagged at the thought and doubted I could accomplish such a feat. I would rather die than allow the shahzadeh to make me his wife in truth.
Shahzadeh Dayyan leaned over, placing his water down.
The glass clinked on a low table tucked between two long toshaks.
Then he rose to his full height and approached.
My pulse galloped with each step. He halted a mere foot before me.
My mind raced through ways I could escape what he no doubt expected.
I kept my gaze lowered, focusing on the black fabric stretching across his chest beneath the heavy robes settled on his broad shoulders.
He reached up and pulled my veil from my head.
The fabric slid off, brushing my skin on its journey to the ground between our feet.
His hand dangled there before taking a strand of my hair in his fingers.
My eyes shot up. He had removed his turban.
It was the first time I could see his hair—dark wavy locks that ended at his shoulders.
My eyes flitted to his, and I froze. Something simmered in his gaze as he stared at the hair he’d snared.
I trembled, and a haunting vision that never left me returned full force.
I peered over the blankets at the door creaking open.
The stars were shuttered by the curtain in the small chamber.
He entered with a smile that curdled my stomach.
The lock clicked, paralyzing me. Soft footsteps approached.
A shadow loomed over me. And then a hand came down to muffle the scream building in my throat.
“Shahdokht,” Shahzadeh Dayyan whispered. “You’re shaking.”
I looked down and realized he was right. My hands were trembling, but I couldn’t stop it any less than I could breathe. I stepped back, creating space between us in the candlelit chamber. His hand remained suspended in the air, but my hair slipped from his grasp as I took another pace back.
“Do not touch me,” I warned. Despite my strong stance and will, my voice contained a tremor, betraying my terror.
He lowered his hand and simply watched me, tilting his head with a contemplative look.
He closed the distance between us again, those cold eyes settling on me with fierce resolve.
My legs hit the bed frame, but I kept my gaze locked on him, refusing to let him out of my sight.
He reached for my arm, his fingers curving over the small buttons of my sleeve, unhooking the first before I shoved his chest.
“Stay away!”
But he didn’t heed my words, reaching for my sleeve again with calm purpose.
I scrambled onto the bed, my dress painting a river of blue over the white sheets.
I reached for a fluffed pillow as if it would protect me.
Shahzadeh Dayyan yanked it from my grasp and tossed it aside.
I gasped, reaching for another, but his firm fingers wound around my wrist and tugged me toward him.
He leaned over me, his lips pressed into a thin line, long strands of his hair brushing his cheekbones.
“This will be quick,” he said without remorse, renewing his effort of unbuttoning my sleeve.
His dark locks clashed with the blueness of his eyes. Horror filled me at the complete power he had over me. I cowered beneath him, my wrist entrapped in his hold. He could do anything he wanted. Tears burned my gaze. I couldn’t surrender. I couldn’t.
Sitarey koochaki mahn. My father’s voice echoed in my ears. My little star, never concede to the oppressors.
“Almighty aid me,” I whispered.
Something flitted across his features, but before I could better examine his curious expression, I wrenched him even closer, using my free hand to slam a fist into his face.
My knuckles stung when the blow connected.
The shahzadeh stumbled back, though he retained his hold on my wrist. He shook his head, appearing dazed and shocked as he glanced back at me. Blood oozed from the split in his lip.
“Release me,” I snarled.
I swung again, but this time he was ready. He caught my fist in his palm and hugged his fingers over mine. He forced me down, pressing me into the mattress. A tear slipped from my eye as I continued to battle him.
Muffled screams. Pain. The wicked smile.
“Stop fighting, woman.”
The shahzadeh swore as he managed to evade my vicious kicks and pin my wrists down with his shackle-like hands.
Our eyes locked as we stilled. The candles flickered about us.
I had attacked the Northern prince. This retaliation would expose my people to more punishment.
I blinked away the horrible image of the shahzadeh slaughtering the prisoners.
He had no trouble taking lives, stealing years from us Southerners.
I had to find a way to slay him before he could destroy more.
He released one of my wrists, and I grasped at his hip in desperation.
He got to it first. The rasp of a blade being drawn made my heart thunder in my ears.
He held a curved dagger in his fist, the gleaming metal reflecting like the sparks in his eyes.
“What are you doing?” I said in a terrified whisper.
My thoughts ran wild. Shahzadeh Dayyan was using other methods to silence me, to use me.
Just like he’d done.
But he stared at my features, brow furrowing as he seemed to reconsider and then withdrew instead.
The shahzadeh yanked his sleeve upward, revealing his strong forearm.
The next moment was so swift, so startling.
He sliced the dagger across his skin. Blood welled and descended in thick drops onto the bed.
He held his arm there, allowing the crimson to fall.
“For proof,” he said, using the dagger to cut through the sheet.
Proof of consummation. The torn white cloth was wet with fresh blood.
My cheeks flooded with heat. I stared at my half-unbuttoned sleeve and reevaluated what had happened.
Realization sank in. Why hadn’t he just told me his plan instead of being a brute?
He set the cloth aside and glanced at me.
Then he leaned in. His breath brushed my cheek, and his nose skimmed my ear.
“As I said before, I have no interest in being with a woman who doesn’t want me.”
I managed to inhale as he rose and walked away with a blanket that had been folded at the foot of the bed.
He stretched his form across the toshak, but the cushion was too small to accommodate him, leaving his legs dangling on the floor.
After a few moments, he stood and then settled onto the carpeted floor, tugging the blanket over himself and tucking the pillow he’d thrown before under his head.
The candles remained lit, and I had no wish to blow them out.
What, then, was the point of the marriage and saving my life?
What did he gain? Even with my racing confused thoughts, I let out a relieved sigh and sank onto the bed, promising myself to remain alert.
The hours slipped by. The candles waned.
My eyes darted every so often to the large form on the ground.
But he never moved. I wondered if he even breathed as still as he was.
I pinched my arm to remain conscious, but the pain couldn’t keep my eyes from sliding shut and allowing darkness to overtake me.