One Night

Chapter Fifteen

Alara

My body is pulled against something hard and warm. Large arms wrap around me, holding me close against their body.

For a moment, I let myself melt into the warmth and comfort of having someone hold me. It is a scary feeling, to enjoy something temporary.

But when every day has felt like walking through a barren desert, this feels like finding an oasis.

The smell of him is intoxicating and familiar. It makes my knees buckle, causing him to hold me closer. Disoriented, I place a hand against his hard chest and look up. Familiar eyes, now shades darker under the stars, stare back at me. "Zayen?"

He holds me closer, one hand gently sliding down my arm. "You're okay now." His voice is so kind, it is alarming. I don't trust it.

His touch causes a strange feeling in my chest that I obstinately ignore. I saw him lose the fight. Why am I in his arms? "What is going on?"

He looks away. "Nawaz won." He doesn't seem happy to admit it.

"He saved me? Is he okay?" I check around for Nawaz or Akilah, but there is nobody around. There is still a sharp pain on my neck, where blood was drawn.

His eyebrows lower. The shift is barely noticeable, but it darkens his expression. "He's fine." The word he is holding back is unfortunately.

This night has to be a fever dream. Maybe I passed out from exhaustion while walking down the mountain and in a little while I'm going to wake up with my face in the dirt.

That seems more realistic than this.

"Why am I . . . ?" In your arms? Alive? Alone with you?

My eyes unwillingly trail along his shoulder, down his biceps which are wrapped tightly around me. It makes my heart shiver. His shirt hugs against his body. My cheeks are a thousand times warmer than necessary.

Noticing the way I am looking at him, he loosens his grip on me and takes a small step back, to let me breath. The warmth of his body stays on my skin. It felt good to be hugged, even by him. "Akilah and Nawaz asked me to stay here with you while they went to get supplies."

He doesn't explain why he was holding me or why I do not remember anything happening after seeing blood being drawn from Zayen's arm. All I knew in that instant was that it was over for me, and that I hated feeling like an object to be traded.

"How dare you agree to that deal?" A searing anger seeps into my veins, like lava slipping through the cracks of a mountain, making my cheeks red for an entirely different reason. "You chose a knife over me?"

Although I wouldn't have expected less. I would have bet that he would trade my life for much less than that.

"A dagger," he corrects.

I turn on my heel, because if I keep looking at him I'll do something idiotic. There's a tightness in my chest, making it hard to breathe or think.

It's a feeling I haven't felt in a long time. Every day of my life has been the same. I've accepted the fate that my parents brought me—that I was destined to live every day by the skin of my teeth, fighting.

Having my life suddenly placed in someone else's hands, for them to gamble on it and lose, makes me hate him more with every breath.

"I'm not something to be sold or traded." I tangle my shaking fingers together, trying to remember what it feels like to feel anything but hate and anger. A few of my curls fall forward, brushing against my cheek.