Page 52 of Dalla's Royal Guards
Closing the lid, he pulled his hand away. He felt a wary unease, as if someone or something could emerge from the device. He pulled the electrical cord out of it before he rose and stepped back from the desk.
In his mind’s eye, he could still see the glimmering image of the woman from the video as she suddenly appeared—wings flickering behind her.
It had to be a trick of the light.
Had to be.
Fifteen
Dalla stared out of the window of the SUV as Musad pulled onto the highway, the vehicle’s tires crunching over gravel as they left the cave far behind. They had descended the trail again once it was light enough to see where they were going without breaking their necks. The men had transferred the contents of the chest into the backpacks they had brought.
The vehicle glided smoothly along the winding road. Morning light slanted across the desert in soft gold streaks, bathing the barren landscape in warmth that hadn’t yet chased away the night’s chill. Inside the vehicle, Dalla sat in the back seat, her eyes fixed on the ever-changing horizon.
Low hills rolled past, dotted with scrub brush and the occasional twisted acacia. In the distance, jagged cliffs rose like ancient sentinels watching over the land below. The rhythmic motion of the car lulled her, but her thoughts were anything but still.
She leaned her temple against the window, staring at her faint reflection in the glass, watching the ghost of herself flicker with the shifting light. A soft smile curled her lips, though it held a trace of sadness.
Last night had changed everything. She curled her fingers into fists under the cuffs of her long tunic as she thought about everything that had happened since she ‘awoke’ again.
The Previous Night:
It was long past midnight when she slipped out of the cavern, her movements quiet. The calming scent of juniper smoke from their fire clung to her clothing as she threaded her way up to the top of the cliff. The cool air caressed her heated flesh. Above, the stars shimmered like ancient eyes, watching, waiting.
She followed the trail that wound upward toward the ancient juniper grove. The path was steeper than she remembered, but her feet knew the way. When she reached the crest, she paused beneath the gnarled limbs of a majestic tree, its roots wrapped around stone like her memories wrapped around her.
Dalla lowered herself onto a flat rock, her gaze lifting to the heavens. The sky stretched wide, a canvas of ink and silver. A breeze stirred, soft as a whisper. Her fingers slid into the pocket of her coat, drawing out Harlem’s letter.
She traced the ink with her thumb. The paper differed from the parchment she remembered. His message was sharp in her mind.
“Call this number, and I will help you.”
She breathed deeply, releasing her stress, and stared upward at the constellations she had known since childhood, her lips parting in a silent plea.
“Please… not this time. Not now. Not after I’ve finally found something worth living for.”
A tear slid down her cheek, and she didn’t brush it away. The weight of all the lifetimes she had endured pressed against her chest. Loneliness had been her only companion for so long, but now… now she had felt something else. Tenderness. Connection. Desire.
Her skin still remembered the heat of Musad and Nasser’s hands, the press of their lips, the way their voices had spoken her name like a vow. They hadn’t looked at her like Gerold or Pascal had—full of wonder and suspicion, as if she were both a miracle and a curse. No. Nasser and Musad had touched her like she was real, theirs, like she belonged.
“Don’t let me die this time,” she whispered to the heavens. “Let me stay. Let me love. Let me find… peace.”
Her heart twisted with anguish when the sky remained silent. It was only the wind curling around her, warm and comforting, that gave her hope.
Gods, she wished Aesa was here.
Her breath caught, and she sat straighter as she suddenly remembered her sister’s vision.
“I did not see your death. I saw you… in a strange place, a place far from here. I saw two men. Strange men. They will be your guards. These are no ordinary men, Dalla. They live in a world where magical things exist.”
Her lips parted with a hiss.
Aesa had foretold her meeting Musad and Nasser. Wonder filled her. Could being with them break the curse? Had she simplybeen born in the wrong time and was always meant to belonghere—with the two men that she cared about?
A breathless laugh escaped her lips. Perhaps she wasn’t meant to die again, but live. Live a full life, aging as a mortal. Rising with a heart full of aching hope, she turned and made her way back to the men. Back to the warmth of their fire. Back to where she belonged.
The memory made her smile, and she studied the two men sitting in front of her. Her heart swelled as the car curved around a bend, revealing a sweeping view of the valley below. She blinked against the rising sunlight and reached for the dark glasses that Musad had given her this morning as she slid into the car.
It hadn’t been the only thing he had given her. The memory of his deep, passionate, possessive kiss sent a shiver of need through her. Her eyes locked with Musad’s in the rearview mirror. It was as if he heard her thoughts. Her breath caught at the heat in his eyes before he turned back to the road.
