Free Blood Passage (Dark Caravan Cycle #2) by Heather Demetrios Page A

collarbone, a thoughtful expression on his face as he looked down at her. “Did I tell you about my home in Arjinna?”
    She shook her head and he shifted to his side, propping himself up on an elbow. “It’s in the middle of a widr tree, built right into the branches, a little ways away from the other ludeen. There’s a pond nearby and honeysuckle grows beneath the windows year round. You’ll love it.”
    She tried to imagine it: waking up beside Raif every morning, smelling the sweet Arjinnan air. Falling asleep beside him eachnight. They’d never had time to discuss what would happen in Arjinna. There had simply been that promise, when they were still enemies: they wouldn’t kill one another when they reached their native land, and Nalia wouldn’t try to steal the ring, nor could Raif use it against her. That was all.
    But so much had changed since then.
    It hurt, this love he had for her. Soon it would be gone. Once he found out the truth, he’d never look at her like this again.
    â€œRaif—”
    He stopped her words with a soft kiss. “Just for the next few minutes, can we pretend we’re there already?” he said. “We have the rest of the day to deal with Malek and fight Ifrit and get to the cave. I want you to myself before I have to share you.”
    The space between hope and reality was growing wider, a chasm they wouldn’t be able to bridge for long. Anything but right now, this moment, felt like a hazy, half-remembered dream. She wanted to hold on to it a little longer before it wasn’t real anymore.
    â€œSo if we were in your ludeen , what would be doing?” she asked, suddenly distracted by his finger as it traveled down her neck and settled on the top button of her shirt. She stopped breathing, her entire being concentrating on where his finger rested.
    Raif smiled. “Relaxing.” He undid the button, his eyes never leaving hers. “Last night I was thinking about how worried you’ve been about everything, how you can never get out of your head.”
    Another button.
    â€œUh-huh,” she whispered.
    His eyes were filled with a secret kind of knowing. “And I thought maybe you’d feel better if you could just . . . let go.”
    Another button. His hair fell forward, brushing against her cheek, and her chiaan vibrated—she actually felt it tremble— as though Raif’s closeness had struck a chord inside her, one that kept playing the same sweet note over and over and over.
    â€œI . . . um . . . I’m not sure . . . let go?”
    Another button.
    Raif lay his palm against her stomach and Nalia felt his chiaan push through her skin, right into the knot he was unraveling inside her.
    â€œRight now,” he murmured, “there’s nothing in the whole world but you and me.”
    The last button.
    Nalia reached her hands up, her fingertips skimming the scarred surface of his chest, where Ifrit bullets and Shaitan whips had cut into his flesh. He closed his eyes as she touched him. Rays of sunlight peeked through a lattice screen, creating a golden pattern against his skin.
    He leaned down and brought his mouth to her chest, taking a leisurely path to her stomach. Her hands gripped his shoulders, his hair. Dust motes swirled around them, a motorcycle went by on the street below, someone in the hotel was playing Arabic love songs. Her breathing quickened the lower he got, and she could feel Raif smile against her belly. It was becoming impossible to hold the magic inside her, to keep herself in check. Control: it was all she knew, all she had.
    â€œJust let go,” he whispered.
    â€œRaif . . .”
    But it was a weak protest, her hands grasping his hair as his lips seared her skin. His fingers undid the drawstring of the loose-fitting pants she wore.
    â€œWhat?” he said, his lips turning up at the shocked expression on her face. “This isn’t how they do things at the