Traitor to the Throne
‘You’d rather I’d stayed to watch you die?’ Jin’s jaw was tight.
‘I didn’t die.’
‘But you might have.’
‘And you might’ve died off spying on the Xichian!’ Silence dropped between us. But we didn’t move. Neither of us pulled away or forward. Jin’s fingers still explored my tender shoulder.
He finally spoke again. ‘It’s dislocated. But not broken.’ He was just above me now, so all I could see was his mouth and the shadow of stubble along his jaw. My shoulder braced between his two hands. ‘This part is going to hurt like hell. You ready?’
‘Well, when you put it that way, how could I say no?’ That slight curve to his mouth that always made me feel like we were in this together appeared. ‘I’m ready.’
‘All right.’ He shifted so we were face-to-face. ‘I’m going to pop your shoulder back in on three.’ I gritted my teeth and prepared myself. ‘One …’
I took a deep breath.
‘Two …’
Before I could tense in anticipation of ‘three’, Jin wrenched my arm out and up.
Pain stabbed from my elbow to my shoulder and tumbled out of my mouth violently. ‘Son of a bitch!’ Another curse ripped out after it in Xichian, then one in Jarpoorian that Jin had taught me while we crossed the desert, the pain drawing out every insult in every language that I knew. I was halfway through a colourful curse in Gallan when Jin kissed me.
Any more words I might have had died cataclysmically the second his mouth found mine. My thoughts fell to ruins right behind.
I’d almost forgotten what being kissed by Jin was like.
God, did he ever know how to kiss me.
He kissed me like it was the first time and the last time. Like we were both going to burn alive from it. And I folded into him like I didn’t care. The Rebellion might be falling apart around us, the whole desert even, but for now we were both still alive and we were together, and the anger between us had turned into a different fire that drew us both into the middle of it until I wasn’t sure which one of us was consuming the other one.
He pulled away with sudden, gut-wrenching speed, breaking us apart as quickly as we’d come together. My own ragged breathing filled the silence that followed. It was full dark now. All I could make out was the rise and fall of his shoulders and the paleness of his white shirt.
‘Why did you do that?’ It came out in a low breath. I was close enough that I saw the rise and fall of his throat when he swallowed. I had the sudden urge to rest my mouth there and taste whether his breath was as unsteady and as uncertain as mine.
But when Jin spoke, his voice was as steady as a rock. ‘To distract you. How’s the pain?’
I realised that the screaming pain in my arm had gone silent as the rest of my body came alive in answer to Jin’s kiss. He was right; it didn’t hurt half as bad as it had when he’d twisted it back into place.
He picked something up off the ground – my red sheema, I realised. It must’ve slipped off. Jin touched my arm again, but this time his hand was just flesh and blood on my elbow, not fire invading my skin. He tied the sheema around my arm and looped it over my neck like a sling, tying it behind my neck in one firm knot before pushing himself to his feet. ‘Besides …’ His voice was light, like it was all a joke and we were just two strangers flirting with each other before parting ways again. Not two people who were as tangled as we were. Who had crossed the desert together. Who had faced death together over and over. ‘Who could resist a mouth like that?’
He stole another kiss from me so whip quick that he was gone before I even fully felt it.
I sat in the dark long after he went, not rising even when I heard the sounds of a hastily thrown together meal being eaten outside. I wasn’t that hungry anyway. I felt raw. Burned out. Scorched earth. I distantly remembered that phrase – Shazad had taught it to me. It was something to do with war strategy. I wasn’t sure if Jin and I were at war or not.
I listened to the camp settle around me as everything ran through my head. Everything we had gone through. Everything left ahead of us. Everything that he wouldn’t say. The more silence fell over the camp, the more noise my anger made.
We were both as stubborn as hell, but one of us was going to have to crack eventually.
I was on my feet before I could think about it, tearing away the tent flap. The camp had gone completely silent now, everyone settled into their tents except whoever had been set to keep watch. I strode across the camp. I knew Jin’s tent on sight, red and patched on one side and set up straight across from mine. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do – shout at him or kiss him or something else entirely.
I’d decide when I saw him.
I was almost there – two paces from his tent – when something clamped over my mouth, hard. Panic spiked in my chest as a cloth covered my face like a gag, smelling sickly sweet, like spilled liquor.
Instinct took over. I drove my elbow backwards. A scream of pain tore through my injured shoulder. A mistake. My mouth opened in a gasp. I inhaled and the smell invaded my mouth, clinging to my tongue, my throat, all the way down to my lungs.
I was being poisoned.
The effects were instant. My legs buckled and the world tilted sideways.
The Sultan’s army had found us.
Why hadn’t we had warning? I could’ve done something. I could’ve raised the desert. I could’ve stopped them. Now I could barely fight. I thrashed helplessly, my fingers clawing at the hand on my mouth. I twisted to the side, struggling to throw my weight downwards. Mostly knowing it was already too late. As I fell I saw two bodies slumped in the sand, not moving.