thepastelphoenix_
❝ 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞❞
"Azraq?" I arched a brow at the unfamiliar name, a flicker of challenge in my gaze. "As in the colour?"
"No." He leaned in just enough for his presence to press against mine. His gaze briefly flickering between my eyes.
"Azraq," he said quietly. "As in your sapphire-like jazibah eyes."
My breath hitched, just once, before defiance rose to claim its place. The audacity of it sent heat racing through my veins.
"Are you attempting to charm me?" I hissed.
A corner of his mouth curved, not a smile, not quite. Something darker that curled through the space between us.
"I don't charm, Azraq," he replied. "I conquer."
"That's enough." My hand slammed down on the wooden counter before I could stop myself. "First, that's not my name," I snapped. "It's Phoenix."
Then I leaned closer, fingers sliding to my waist, blade flashing as I drew my dagger just enough to promise intent. His gaze dipped, to my hand. To where my fingers hovered dangerously close to my dagger.
"And second," I added coldly, "if not for this bazaar, I'd show you exactly how lethal these jazibah eyes can be."
For the first time since we collided, something like amusement flickered across his face.
Not mockery. Interest.
A slow sneer curved his lips as his eyes lifted back to mine.
"Consider me intrigued," he murmured. Then, softer, almost reverent, "They already did."
***
❝ Bound by duty, consumed with passion, their fate was written in blood.
From Cairo's shadows to Damascus's throne,
𝐀𝐫𝐳𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐚𝐝𝐢 and 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱 𝐞𝐥 𝐙𝐢𝐚 are enemies by fate-and something far more dangerous by choice.
Because in a city built on veils,
loving the wrong person doesn't just break hearts.
It starts wars.❞